XXXVIII. GLUTTONY

And he to me: "Thy city, which is full
Of envy so that now the sack runs over,
Held me within it in the life serene.

Greed can be a habit, that much is true.

And gluttony? That's almost the same.

But more-so, gluttony means overindulgence. It means, taking the luxuries of life for granted as you're filled to the brim with so much wealth you practically pop.

It's more than just eating, or overeating. It's taking what you have and not sharing it with others, those who need it more.

To be a glutton is to be selfish. To be a glutton is to be overzealous until you've no choice to be anything but.

Crista Cray. 42.
Victor of The 27th Hunger Games.
Tribute Apartments. 1:50.

Lord she loves Sapphira Starlett more than anything and everything but even Crista has to admit this is a handful. Part of her pities her wife, all cold and wrapped in blankets in bed, her eyes half open as she tries to doze off for the night, but Crista's equally horrified of and for her lover. She's not well, and she's not the girl Crista fell in love with either anymore. No, Sapphira's aloof, she's stoic like ice and she's lost her mind. And she'd be naive if she actually thought she could help her wife through this herself… yet she wonders what her options are.

Maybe part of the reasoning behind Crista's terror is the fact she didn't know comfort until she met Sapphira. She's no clue who her parents are, and now that she's past forty she doesn't really care, but still her upbringings were as rocky as the shores in Four that shaped her into the woman she is today. The orphanage was… a bit of a mess. While the other kids didn't necessarily pick on Crista personally, she still lived in fear that they'd pull her hair in her sleep or steal her belongings or do anything to terrorize her. So she didn't sleep for long ever and there were bags under her eyes before she was even a teenager and the owner of the orphanage said it was time for her to leave.

The streets weren't much better either… for one they were cold even if Four was known for it's immaculate weather, and she was constantly running away from older men in fear they'd prostitute her or beat her to death. All Crista knew for fourteen years was despair, solitude even in a room for a people. She learned to fend for herself, yes, but she shouldn't have had to. She should've been able to run free with the winds and just… be a kid or something. Just enjoy the life that had been so graciously granted to her, but Crista wasn't so lucky.

And somehow it only got worse from there, Shane Odeen and Lana Lotus finding her tucked between two trash dumpsters, a handmade candle from wax on the ground her only source of comfort, and they tricked her. They told Crista, "Join us, we're going to help you. We'll make you feel so free." What she didn't know then was that Shane and Lana's definition of freedom was running through the sands along the water fully nude with seaweed draped on her shoulders. They asked her too, "Don't you feel like you're a part of something?"

Oddly enough, Crista did. Looking back at it, the people of the Collective were all sorts of cruel, especially with Lana at the helm, but that didn't mean Crista didn't appreciate them. She never knew family, not for fourteen years yet when this tall girl with the ocean in her eyes approached her, maybe it meant that Crista could finally be at home. So she followed Lana, blind as a bat, hope on her mind, thinking, I finally have something to believe in, I'm finally part of something bigger than myself. I finally see the world. And even though Lana's "world" was one filled with ritualistic vomit and casting people to the tides, Crista cherished every moment. It was like… Lana cast a spell on her somehow, and in a way, Crista did owe her her life since without the girl she'd be stranded on the streets, so that's perhaps another reason she was so eager to give in.

She loved Lana Lotus too, more than she ever thought she was capable of loving another person. There was this way to her, this domineering and brooding pride that Crista was enchanted by, eager to explore. They had good times together too, Lana taking Crista's virginity when she was just fifteen and a half. But Lana never said anything personal to her, all the "I love you's" going unreciprocated as Crista tried harder and harder to win the heart of her savior.

So Crista was ecstatic when Lana told her she was in charge while she went off to the Capitol to fight in the Games. It was proof that maybe a part of Lana did love her, yet she'd never know. Instead she was forced to watch her first love get devoured by a beast off the side of a cliff like she was absolutely nothing. Crista still swears she saw Lana's soul leave her body, and at times it feels like she's still with her in every step she takes.

Crista tries to cast that aside.

She's doing so much better now, or at least that's what she thinks, but still she knew nothing of comfort when she was with Lana and nothing of it when she tried to reform the Collective.

But then Sapphira comes in, and Crista thinks, She's my savior… because she's a fan of her movies and she's just as much of a star in person, but Sapphira refuses to be that knight in shining armor for Crista. She just wants to be her lover, and she wants a relationship where everything is normal and they might as well not even be in Panem.

It's like… for once, Crista's actually enough for someone and she doesn't have to care about violent outbursts and feelings of inadequacy, because she's supposed to be in love and she's supposed to be happy.

And part of her still is, even if Sapphira's gone off her rocker because as sad as it is, at least she's not Lana. At least she loves Crista fully and isn't going to trade her for the next person she sees as soon as she sees them. But then again, maybe the issue is that Sapphira loves her so fully. Because it makes Crista worry that she and Cressida are the only thing she has to live for any any wrong move could cause her to shatter like glass all over the ground, nobody left to pick up her pieces.

Loving Sapphira's been hard at times too, because it's always been her who lamented about she's not good enough and she'll never be, and Crista still isn't sure she likes this role reversal of her relationships from the past.

But what's she to do now?

She strokes her wife's cheek, whispers softly in her ear, "It's going to be okay, somehow. You're going to be okay."

"Why are you still here?" Instead, Sapphira mumbles in frustration, in refusal to even let Crista help her, "Why don't you just take Cressida and leave?"

At times, Crista wonders the same thing. It would be so easy to just run with her daughter and not worry about Peacekeepers catching up to them and being complicit in the murder of an innocent, yet that's not who she is. And she knows her wife better than she knows herself, and Sapphira's not a vicious beast either. She's a lifetime companion, and she'll follow Crista to the end of time if she can. That's what Sapphira's said over and over.

And maybe Crista's lost her mind if she's still in love with Sapphira after all this, after a potential relapse and a definite murder. Maybe she's the villain for being so steadfast for her when she doesn't have to be.

"I love you," Crista mutters, her voice gentle, "We're going to get through this, somehow, okay?"

But Sapphira's so stubborn at times and she refuses to give in so she says, "We won't. We're screwed, Crista, why can't you just accept that?"

But in Crista's mind, they're not. They're a time, and Crista's going to help Sapphira fix this mess if it's the last thing she does. And then she'll get her wife to a professional, somebody who can help heal her mind because Sapphira needs peace. And Crista's going to give it to her.

"We've both always been too stubborn for our own good, haven't we?" Crista chuckles and wraps her hand around Sapphira's waist, pulling her close so they can get some much needed rest.

Crista's made a living in running against the tides, and she'll just have to teach Sapphira to do the same.

Cyra Terranova. 18.
District Two Female.
Forrest of Food, Center. 4:15.

She's sat next to a rock with her left ankle elevated as Magnificence keeps her hands squeezed around it. It's somewhat quiet as the boys sleep besides her, but Cyra doesn't particularly mind all that much. Mainly because she don't need to deal with Hesson's squabbling when she can't get up and kick him in the ass. It seemed like such a weird accident too, Cyra was just… doing her best to run when the fire of the arena began to chase them for the second time of their arena adventure and she had to run down a mountain to safety. And Cyra's always been a fast one. It's what the evaluators at Springridge claimed her biggest strength to be even when she was just seven years old, yet she tripped somehow… maybe she was going too fast but she tripped as she was running and she heard the bones in her ankle pop and crack yet adrenaline carried her through as she rushed into a forrest with spaghetti on trees and crackers on the ground, only to finally feel the pain once she sat down.

There'd be no sleeping for Cyra that night. She's smart enough that she knows what to do in case of an injury, just sit with the leg elevated so that it'll heal properly, but she's worried that she's just permanently screwed herself over.

"Does it still hurt?" Magnificence asks her after some time, and her tone is naturally gentle and soothing, "And if so, can I get you something?"

Cyra lowers her leg so she can see for herself, yet there's a numbness once it hits the ground which is… just lovely, "Well I don't feel anything anymore, so maybe that's a good sign?"

"It is, it is," The District One girl sighs. And Cyra's noticed that she's been off lately… well, more off then she usually is since Magnificence isn't exactly known for being the most present of individuals, which is fine, honestly. At least she's not causing a ruckus and ruining everything like Hesson. Truth be told, nothing could be worse than him.

So Cyra asks, "Are you alright?" And there's a sense of desperation in her eyes, like she's trying to say something but there's simply not enough words that can come out of her mouth. She repeats, "M, are you with me? Is everything okay?"

Cyra swears she sees a tear dwell in Magnificence's eye, but she swiftly ignores it and laughs, "I'm great… well, as great as I can be in the Hunger Games but I feel fine."

She doesn't buy it, "You sure?" Cyra knew Magnificence was rather torn up from killing the Twelve boy in the bloodbath, and Cyra can sympathize too in a way. She brutalized his District Partner, and she isn't quite sure what compelled her to be so… morbid with it. Sure, she didn't have the worst kill of the day, that went to Meridian and the Three boy, but she couldn't shake the fact that she'd done something so terribly wrong. Cyra's killed before too, and she's supposed to be used to it by now, there's just something different about killing an innocent as opposed to people that rebelled against Two or those who hurt Ludo.

"…Why?" Magnificence is flustered, "I just told you I'm fine, okay?"

Cyra's unsure what to do… and part of her thinks she should ask her again because she's so sure that Magnificence is the furthest thing from okay but at the same time, she doesn't need conflict and she doesn't think that she should keep repeating herself, I mean, I'd be annoyed if somebody kept asking me if I'm okay or not when I clearly don't want to talk about it.

"Noted," Cyra nods, trying to get up and take a step but finding herself devastatingly unable to do so, "Fuck… yeah this thing doesn't work."

"Give it time," Magnificence stammers, almost like she's oddly frustrated by Cyra's ankle and the fact she can't do anything about it. Cyra doesn't really get it though, it's not her business and it's supposed to be every person for themselves in here, well every person and their best friend they were banned from seeing for themselves, but that's besides the point. Yet, there's something about Magnificence and it's that she cares, even if she doesn't particularly know how to express it, "It'll be better in a few hours, Cyra. You're allowed to rest."

True… and Cyra Terranova's the exact type of person who needs the concept of rest explained to her it seems. Seriously, even when that punk Alistair was talking shit about how he could take her in a fight because she was just a small little girl at one of the tournaments, Cyra didn't let it go, take him on fairly. That wasn't enough and his words hurt too much that shoving him down the stormdrain seemed to be the only viable option. She'd never rest a day in her life if that was allowed, or at least that's what her mother had instilled in her, "No resting until you take down that Sheng boy, Cyra."

She wonders what Aquila's thinking now. She saw her daughter tear the Twelve girl to shreds (albeit far too dramatically) with Ludo at her side, and she probably scoffed at it too, said something like, "Stupid Sheng boy won't even let my Cyra get the first kill for herself. Had to take it away from her just like his family took away—"

And then she probably ranted to the family about how Ludo's family deserves to perish and how she'll be "oh so very displeased" unless Cyra kills him. She probably thought Cyra was bitter too that Ludo "stole the kill" from her hoping now that her daughter finally understands, "why we need to take out that filthy family."

Cyra's far too familiar with the insults her mother throws at Ludo's family and she can only imagine they've gotten worse as the days go by, everyone sitting at their screens and wondering "Why hasn't she killed them yet."

They've got to think something is up by now, they have to think there's more than what meets the eye with Cyra and Ludo. Do they think they're friends though, Cyra isn't too sure, but they haven't been too shy with each other, not really avoiding cameras when they want to talk, and then there was the whole flower crown incident from yesterday. Maybe Cyra's stupid for not being careful around Ludo, but at the same time, only one of them is getting out alive maximum and she doesn't want her last few days with her soulmate to be spent pretending she doesn't know him.

Aquila can't be capable of actually doing something to kill him, right? Cyra assumes that with the whole mess of the two previous Head Gamemakers tripping and falling and dying and the fact that their replacement looks like she'd tear the head off a baby and without showing a single expression there's not really time to be bribed by a neurotic old hag from Two.

But if something happens to Ludo she can't even do anything because of her stupid fucking leg, and sure she's being so fucking dramatic right now considering the fact that said leg will probably be healed in just a few hours if she doesn't move but hey maybe Cyra's a bit afraid of not moving around the arena. She doesn't think she'll get the chance to ever be stagnant if the arena keeps folding in on itself, so she might as well just accept it and get moving to wherever it'll break into next… but again, she can't.

And the expression on her face must be gnarly because Magnificence checks up on her with a, "Cyra, it's not that big of a deal."

To her it is though, because for so long, hell for her entire life Cyra Terranova's sworn herself to not getting hurt, to being stronger than the teenage angst bullshit swirling around in her head so she can do her best to be somewhat liked by her mother, do her best to figure out a way to get away to Ludo, and for what? Why's it fucking matter if they're now both stuck here and they did it on purpose and fuck— she's going to have to deal with him dying at some point unless she dies first herself, which also isn't very ideal. She's spent so long, grinding and training for this thing, pushing Ludo aside and the idea they'd be here together because she'd deal with that later. Well guess what Cyra? It's finally later, are you ready to deal with the fact that the only person you've had a genuine connection with since you were seven is going to fucking die? Are you ready for it, or are you going to die instead? Would that be better Cyra, tell me, would it?

Are you willing to die for him, Cyra?

(Always.)

She has to push it down again. She has to be strong, not just because her mother could be watching and if she cries she's fucked, but for him.

(And for herself, too.)

Lobo Kallenbach. 18.
District Ten Male.
Forrest of Food, South. 8:05.

He reckons his face hasn't become less red in the last however many hours it's been since he left those fuckin' traitors, but to be honest, Lobo doesn't mind. He's pissed at those assholes, and rightfully so. Sure, he shouldn't have talked to the mutt and tried to be it's friend, but did he actually think it was going to go and attack everybody? Of course not, otherwise he wouldn't have done it, he's not a moron and he loves his friends (well, now foes) more than anything. He'd never actually endanger them for fuck's sake and he just… doesn't … get … why … they … don't fucking understand.

There's crumbs of some sort of chip or cracker on the ground and Lobo crunches them under the heel of his boot. It smells odd in the new forest area he was sent down to, the fire burning through the arena just as it did the night before, and Lobo's suspicious of the place, even if it's covered in food, pasta on trees and large burgers instead of rock. And it looks appetizing too, sort of similar to the soap on the train, but as hungry as Lobo feels himself becoming, he doesn't give in to the temptation to chow down on his surroundings. That soap surely wasn't going to kill him, but he doesn't know about the food around him.

And maybe that's because of spite too, his anger's enough fuel to keep his head held high, because again, Lobo has every right to be angry. It was almost too quick to process… how quickly his life, or at least the past week of it had shattered right before his eyes, and now glass was on the ground and he could feel it tearing the metaphorical flesh off the soles of his feet… damnit.

He… he trusted these people and well, part of him wants to trust them again but he sure as hell isn't going to go find them. He's better off without them… except the fact that he doesn't have food, or water, or a weapon, or… fuck…

But he's not going to find them again!

He doesn't need to find Silvana because she's so fucking angry and obsessed with herself and she thinks that she's the smartest person in the world when she's just a feisty piece of shit who's probably going to die because she thinks she's unstoppable when spoiler alert, she's moral just like everybody else, fucking hell.

And Lobo doesn't need to find Hennessy who's probably better off drunk off his ass because then he wouldn't be conscious enough to play devil's advocate about everything like he's some superior extraterrestrial being who's been through the worst possible things and now he's some mystic sage and just knows everything.

It hurts most to admit, but Lobo doesn't need to find Danika. She's… a new kind of betrayal, and she's not the girl he thought she was. She was so understanding and caring to him that first day on the train, yet now she's just as fucking bad as the other too. She's like a leech, using their words and pretending they're her own. Pretending she hates Lobo too when deep down inside, he knows she's soft and she's pretending to be stoic and cool because it'll get people to like her more.

And together they're all just a fucking nightmare. An ego-ridden depressive nightmare that Lobo wishes he never associated with to begin with because… oh, he should have known that they would break them. He should have known never to trust anybody outside his tight knit family of friends back in Ten… and at least he has some solace knowing they were probably rooting for him in that fight and they probably knew that he had pure intentions with the mutt. But these bitches? They might as well not know shit.

There's rustling in the leaves around him but Lobo can hardly pay attention to it. His mind is set on one thing and one thing only and that's finding a way to win this thing so that he can prove to the others that he wasn't a coward after all. He's not a weakling and he's not a pussy or a little bitch, he's a grown ass man and he can handle this shit.

But again, he's hungry, which should be well, expected in an event called the Hunger Games, and maybe he's overdramatizing too, since surely there's people in this thing who haven't eaten at all and it's been maybe twelve hours for Lobo… Shit, I'm losing my sense of time here. But a man's got to eat, and again he's not moronic enough to eat the food laying on the ground.

The rustling continues so Lobo looks behind him and sees the same brown head of hair that he saw the previous night, the same figure he followed for a while until he lost him when the fires went off. Boy from Five… He tries to remember what he knows about the guy, Allied with Three and Twelve until he didn't, I think… But if they're not allying it could be due to the fact that they're dead now… He was one of the few people I didn't see at the Cornucopia on the first day though… Pretty decent training score too.

Should I? No— it's too risky.

If he knows anything else about Five it's that he seemed to have a whimsical look on his face whenever he was practically prancing around the Capitol. He seemed friendly enough, which once again raised the question of why he either didn't have allies by the time the Games started or if he left them in the dust to die. Lobo scoffs, If the latter's the case then I know some people he'll get along with just fine…

But no, Lobo can't sick Five on his formal allies, because unlike them he's actually a decent human being and he's not going to put them in a situation where they could easily get their asses beat. And that would be three on one as well, Five would be the one who gets his shit rocked. And that would also require talking to him and if he's really the sort to abandon his allies to die, who's to say he won't just take out Lobo? He's a tall little thing, at least a foot taller than Lobo, so does he really have a change?

He could be volatile… though that's a given in the arena. Everyone's either reached their wit's end or they're getting mighty close, and Lobo's determined to not let that happen to him. There's something in the air here, he's sure of it. There's something angry in the air and it's making people act different than the way they were… His friends, or former friends rather aren't the people he initial met. Something's happening, he just doesn't know if it's the results of being trapped in a death pageant or if there's something particular about this arena that's messing with their heads, bringing out their worst traits even.

(That would explain why Lobo was so eager to befriend the mutt… He's always been a friendly guy, but then looking back at it, why would he do that?)

And there's a part of him that wonders what good there even is to being stuck here if people are only going to get worse, climb down even lower from humanities ladder. Is he going to get worse too? Is he going to try to befriend another thing that tries to get him killed? Lobo certainly hopes not.

Because he's better than this… He's able to break free from these mental handcuffs if he just shakes hard enough. He knows so much better than to let the people in his life who try to destroy him get to him. He's unique after all, has been his whole life and will continue to be until the day he dies which is as far as he's concerned, not at all going to be soon.

So he won't change. He won't let the Capitol fuck with his head until he becomes a shadow of the man he once was. He still is that man and he'll be damned before he changes who he is for some flamboyant creeps who watch children all day and call it "entertainment."

Lobo Kallenbach's lasted this long by going against the grain of life, and he's not going to change directions at anybody's hands.

Luminosity "Lumi" Abrixus. 16.
District Three Female.
Forrest of Food, East. 10:50

Bonnie's face was in the sky last night and it didn't take Lumi more than a few minutes to figure out who caused her blood to spill.

Sable.

It has to have been her who caused the screaming cannon followed by the projection of her sinister smile in the air. Seriously, that was just about the only option. While Luminosity isn't tracking everybody, she knows that Bonnie and Sable went off together when the gong rang and she can only assume they stuck together throughout the remainder of that day and then the next because why would Sable leave her if she's either sickeningly in love with her for some reason or just a human doormat.

And if they were caught up by something else, why was there only one cannon that day. Whatever it was should have killed both of them. If it was another Tribute, why the hell did they not kill Sable too? And it can't be, because Sable could have fought back and killed their attacker but she didn't. Could be a mutt, but Lumi knows those are scary enough that they'd snap of Sable's head first and not Bonnie's. Either that or she'd sacrifice herself (or be forced to).

It's just… unrealistic to think that anything besides Bonnie being slaughtered by Sable occurred.

Lumi always knew she was too bitter for her own good, too salty and spiteful towards the world, so jealous over a relationship that didn't last longer than a week. Pathetic. Though, Lumi does wonder how on Panem Sable Hayashi could actually be a killer… Lord, there's got to be something wrong with that girl if she killed the person she loved after kicking Sable out because she wanted her all to herself. If there's one thing Lumi hates more than people who kill out of self indulgence, it's people who kill because they're "trying to prove a point" when in reality they don't have anything valid to prove. Seriously, what was Sable's logic, "If I kill Bonnie will it show the world that I'm just her bitch?"

Did she think, "If I love somebody so much I'm willing to hurt others and betray them because of it should I just kill that person so it doesn't hurt when somebody else kills her?"

Is Sable really so fucking jealous of everyone that comes near Bonnie that she's willing to kill her before anyone else does? Because she wanted to be the last thing Bonnie saw? Lumi rolls her eyes, Bet she even wrote a poem about it too. How she misses her dead girlfriend even though she's the one who killed her.

Anger's a rare emotion for Lumi, especially after the incident in Twelve drained all the life and emotional highs right out of her to the point where the only thing she knows is melancholy and dreariness. Yet she feels it now as she crunches the crackers she grabbed a while back in her hands, not having had one in a while because they're stale and disgusting and she's waiting for a true emergency before she eats them.

And she's not too sure what she's even angry about at this point? The fact Sable killed Bonnie just because she could? The fact everyone in the Capitol probably hates her and the fact she's doing just about nothing but wallow probably isn't helping. She doubts the cameras have even been on her all that much because again, she's nothing close to entertaining.

But her goal coming here was sort of clearing her name was it not? Her goal was to prove to the Capitolites that she's not the horrid girl who killed thousands, to give them a show and make them like her again. Yet… she's done nothing.

But she sees a dark head of hair just meters away from her, an oblivious dark head of hair walking in a straight line past the trees of licorice and marshmallows, and Lumi wonders, Can I actually do something?

Well, first off, it depends on just who it is that she's seeing… because if it's a Career or just about anybody else, well she's shit out of luck.

She gets closer though, and that's not who she sees. No, she seems semi-tan skin with freckles splattered on her face, and she sees a nervous expression darting backwards and forwards. But she doesn't think she's being seen herself. Which is good considering the girl she sees has blood splatters on her pants and red stains on her arms and shit, Is that a knife in her hand?

But again, Sable doesn't see her. Probably too cocky after killing Bonnie. She probably thinks that she can do anything now, shit.

Lumi tiptoes, she's angry but she's careful. Sable doesn't see her. She's angry… careful. Why is she so angry again? Why? Over… her?

She is… angry, though. She hasn't known anger for a long time yet it's creeping back now as a terrible reminder.

(And the back of her mind is terrified of whatever she'll do next.)

Sable flinches and drops the knife once Luminosity steps on her foot, and she gasps, "Lumi?"

The District Three girl just furrows her brow, "Sable." She tries to crouch down with such subtlety that she can get the knife for herself.

(Bonnie's blood is an even deeper red up close.)

And there's a tear in her eye, "Lumi, I'm so glad too see you," Her rapid heartbeat is nearly audible, "I just… there's been a misunderstanding. I—"

"You killed Bonnie?" Lumi cuts her off and looks up and down her body, "I know Sable, it's pretty obvious that you'd kill her because you were jealous."

A pause, "No?"

Lumi pushes again, the sole of her foot pressing deep and Sable's seemingly too paralyzed by her presence to move, "Well then who killed her?"

"Unimportant," Sable's eyes aren't even moving, she's practically dead just the same, "What I was going to say was that I never wanted you out of our alliance. I get the whole interview nerves thing, I was dreading it too, but Bonnie's the one who wanted you out. She said you were an embarrassment and we're better off without you."

Lord, she's pathetic. And just as awful as a liar as Bonnie was, "Right, because that makes so much sense. Bonnie wouldn't want strength in numbers and you're totally not too bitter about the fact that she doesn't love you to keep others near her. You're totally not her murderer for the sole purpose of being the last thing she sees before she dies."

"Yeah…"

Lumi's finally low enough to the ground that the knife's handle is grazing her finger tips and she's able to pull it into her hand and squeeze, "Are you sure, Sable?"

She looks down, notices the knife in Lumi's hand and shrieks, "Okay fine, I did kill her."

That's all Lumi needs to here before piercing the flesh of Sable's upper chest with the blade, crimson immediately staining her vest as she collapses to the ground.

Sable's panting now, and Lumi's doing the same. And the knife's deep in Sable's chest but when she tries to twist it to pull it out, all that happens is more blood spewing out and more whimpering, "I killed her because she ruined my life, Lumi?"

To take her out of her misery, Lumi grabs onto the handle and pushes it in deeper, yet Sable's still talking, "I did it because she lied to me. She treated me like I was just some worthless, useless pig, Lumi. And I didn't even want to do it at first but then… this lady came and she got Bonnie all bloodied then told me I should finish the job. Could I have said no? Yes, holy shit and I should've said no, Lumi… but I wanted her gone, she ruined me and I wanted her gone. Is that too much to ask for. Is it too much that in a game of life in death I chose for somebody who hurt me to get hurt instead."

"If I say anything I'll be a hypocrite," Lumi grunts, pulling out the blade and wiping the still-wet fluid on Sable's pants, "I… almost understand Sable. But you didn't have to."

"I did," Sable pleads, "I wanted to live… Don't you want to live too? Isn't that why you're killing me?"

"I've done worse, Sable," Lumi inhales, holding back her own tears.

Sure, her body's writhing against the ground but her neck's not covered.

It's just a quick strike.

And then a cannon.

Lumi turns away and takes a deep breath, Do I even want to live?

And the knife's still wet and Sable's eyes are still open like she's judging Lumi post mortem for what she did. Not just this, but everything.

She's still angry.

And with one hand on Sable's wrist she realizes she's misplaced her crackers.

It's an emergency.

Chandler Whitt. 18.
District Eleven Male.
Digestion Pond. 11:35.

For the first time in days there's no longer blood and dirt on his hands. It's because of a pond he and Calathea somehow found when they were walking around earlier that day and Chandler was finally able to dip his hands in the green-tinted water that definitely wasn't drinkable but sure worked for cleaning up. They had their own water, of course, but they both agreed to save it for when they were thirsty, not when they were just pissed about the fact they were covered in sticky and uncomfortable blood. Actually a good move on their part, and the constant movements of the arena made it so neither of them were as stirr crazy as they thought they would become as the days progressed.

Then again, they are both painfully used to staying in the same place for a long ass time, but a break from that is nice, actually. It means less delirium as a result of no new scenery and just repetition day in and day out. It's different here though… every day's a bit of an adventure, even if the last day was just spent hunting down a deer and eating it over a fire. Probably better than anything the Careers could do though, or at least that's what Calathea said several times.

He's once again found himself growing closer to her. Maybe it's just because he's hardly seen anybody else in days, but at the same time those conversations under the never-fading stars with her about how much they both can't stand Eleven but they'll just deal with it anyways because what else are they going to do, anyways makes him see something in her. She's no longer a goddess to Chandler, not that she ever really was, but she's certainly closer to reality than he ever thought she would become.

Maybe she's always been this way, lowkey horrified of the world around her but too trapped in her facade of power to admit it, she just never let Chandler see that part of her.

(Or there's always the chance that Calathea's just trying to manipulate him by appearing sympathetic. But he doubts it. Why would she kill the one person who literally signed his life away to protect her?)

But after hours by the lake taking quick breaks to sleep in shifts, Chandler's bored, well not bored bored, but he doesn't want to sit around all day and do nothing in an environment where he's supposed to be always doing something.

He asks Calathea, "Do we have plans to do something today?"

And she looks at him with fury in her eyes. It's her natural expression when she speaks yet it still frightens him whenever he sees it. It's the same way she looked when she tortured the girl from Five, brutalized the girl from Four, and part of him's worried it'll be the look he gets if she kills him next, but he pushes down that fear because again, Chandler wants to trust her just for his own sanity's sake. And he's seen her kill even before two days ago. And those people in Eleven were supposedly just as innocent as the kids in the arena since they were just "lazy" and weren't fellow competitors in a place where every death mattered. And when she does answer Chandler's question, her voice is lower than usual, more husky almost, "I mean… we did tell One that we'd be back for him eventually."

It takes everything in Chandler not to laugh at that. It's been their joke for the past day or so, "Oh I'm bored, I guess we should just get our promise to One out of the way and beat his ass." Because yes, it turns out turns out that Calathea Matheny is actually capable of being funny if she wants to be. Makes sense though, Chandler's certain she's capable of just about anything if she puts her mind to it.

"We did," Chandler smirks, his arms folded neatly in his lap, "I mean, I'm not saying that I'm not not down."

He understands Calathea's disgust towards the One boy. He's just about everything she's been told to stand against. Angry, lazy, a terrible leader, so absorbed in himself that he doesn't care about others. In hindsight, a lot of those traits could be descriptive of Calathea's father, but Chandler would never say that, even if he gets the feeling that she's not the most fond of him. One is a mockery though, that's hard to deny. And while Chandler isn't aggressively excited to help torture and kill him and do lord know's what with the body, he'd rather it be One then anybody else in that arena. He definitely deserves it most.

Maybe that's what Calathea means when she says that some people deserve to die. Sure, Chandler's against playing the judge, jury, and executioner in a life besides his own, but if he absolutely has to then it might as well be against a defendant with a case so rough not even the fanciest lawyers could get him free. And that's One. It's unfortunate for him, but what can Chandler do if it means he'll get to see the light (err, darkness since it's never light here) of another day when all's said and done.

"Well…" Calathea raises her brow, grabbing one of the knives besides her, "Do you have any idea where they might've wandered off to?"

"I haven't heard violent yelling lately, so no," He shrugs, reminiscing on simpler times back in the Capitol when One would yell about whatever it was he felt the need to yell about, "Do you think the canon we just heard an hour ago was for him by any chance? Do you think they were that sick of him"

It's a mere thought, not a hypothesis but nevertheless something to consider, not that Chandler thinks the rest of the pack is ballsy enough to kill one of their own this early in the Games, with… now fourteen people left, especially since Four's gone too. But then again, they are objectively morons.

And he wonders too what happened to the Nine girl yesterday, not that it's a terrible loss considering he was shocked at the fact she made it out of the bloodbath at all. Probably the Careers getting bored or Nine being a ditz and stumbling into the wrong place at the wrong time while her girl toy was probably miserable.

"Doubt it," Calathea presses her lips together, "They may be dumb, but they're not stupid."

"That's the same thing," Chandler nearly rolls his eyes but he doesn't want to push it, "Could be the one big alliance though."

"As if the other Careers wouldn't put them all down thirty seconds later," Calathea stands from the ground and stretches her arms, "It's probably one of the loner girls, Seven, Eight, or Three. But there's no use guessing, we've got somebody to find."

"Right," He nods, raising himself as well, "Though I wonder, should we kill him? They don't seem to like him all that much so we wouldn't really ruin his dynamic."

"Please," Calathea stretches her legs next, almost like a lion about to pounce, "The whole point is we don't take somebody they care about so they don't go back and get revenge for it. And please, tell me with your whole chest that his screams won't be the funniest to hear."

Chandler inhales and then exhales wondering again, "What's the point in torturing somebody if we're going to kill them anyways."

"It'll put on a show," She nods, "The Capitol loves this shit, and if we entertain them in the right way, they won't set mutts out on us. We're already at a disadvantage because we're not outliers so we need to do something to let them know we're serious."

Serious about what? About winning? Chandler's certain that Calathea's more than aware only one of them is going to make it out alive and it's going to be her because that's how it's supposed to be. He's bound to be collateral damage eventually to one of her ways of entertainment even if that's in the finale.

His pause is long enough that Calathea notices, "You know… serious about one of us getting out of here. Well, me, but you get it. I can't have the Capitol trying to kill my favorite bodyguard."

Chandler laughs, "I'm your only bodyguard."

"Precisely," She nearly produces a happy smile, "So I'll need you for as long as possible." Calathea starts to walk in the direction Chandler thinks is east, "Also, I've grown quite fond of you lately, if I have to lose you I don't want it to be so soon."

He's not sure if the compliment's back-handed or genuine, but it's the closest thing Calathea's ever said to something kind about him so he accepts it, "I'd hate to lose you too."

And part of Chandler wants to say more, as these lighthearted conversations with Calathea are typically far and few between, but being her friend isn't her job. He has to protect her now and that means going out and finding One.

Angel by Sarah McLachlan

15th Place: Sable Hayashi, District Seven - Killed by Luminosity "Lumi" Abrixus