Chapter 15:
The Banquet Part One
Fox Durham, Survivor of the Sixth Quarter Quell
Fox is filled with a little bit of dread as he enters the banquet hall with his team. Not from them, but from seeing his friends…which is an unusual feeling for him. He just doesn't know if he has the energy to pretend to them that everything is going alright with him right now. Part of him is almost glad to be mentoring. If he just throws himself into it and focuses entirely on Shams, well, he can maybe forget about missing his children and his seemingly inevitable divorce.
Mentoring, a divorce, and having three kids all before the age of twenty. Certainly not the life he envisioned for himself years ago when he asked Paloma to marry him. But she's not here and his life doesn't matter right now. What matters is making sure he does everything possible to get Shams or Cimmer home alive.
"You doing alright with everything?" Fox asks Shams quietly as Roo leads them over to a table marked for District Ten. As they get closer, he winces a little at the fact that they're sitting with Amelia. She's always the hardest for him to lie to about how he's holding up.
Shams looks surprised at him asking about herself and even looks around, verifying that he isn't talking to someone else. When she turns back to him, she looks a little flustered as she looks down at her fiddling hands. "I'll be alright. But might need a drink."
Fox lets out a laugh at that and puts a hand on her shoulder to guide her to their seats, feeling himself starting to relax a little. "I'll join you for that drink," he tells her as Roo gestures at their table. "And what do you say we both do our best to forget that we're at a party for the Hunger Games tonight?"
"Okay so I've been told the dining is casual and you can get food whenever you want," Roo tells them, doing his absolute most for them. "The table markers are just to make sure everyone has a guaranteed spot they can sit if they want it, but Head Gamemaker Lukianas told us to encourage you to sit wherever and socialize!"
"He wants us to make friends," Fox leans over to whisper to Shams, before giving a shrug when she looks up at him. He moves away and smiles encouragingly at Roo, aware of how much the escort is doing for them. "Thank you, Roo. You've been so helpful."
"Oh it's no problem at all," Roo answers, looking a little frazzled at the praise. When someone calls for him across the room, he looks around, flushing at the pair of escorts waving at him across the room. Sloan and Mord wave him over and Roo shakes his head, turning back to his team and looking embarrassed at the thought of him shrinking from his duty. "Don't mind them."
"Are they your friends?" Johan asks him gently and Roo gives a small shrug, his cheeks a tint of pink under that bandaid he wears over his nose. "Then you should go see them."
"But you need me!" Roo protests right away.
"We can handle ourselves for a little bit on our own," Fox tells him, giving him an encouraging smile before gently nudging him in the direction of the other escorts. "Go on, set an example for the team by having fun."
"Okay but only for a few minutes," Roo protests as he heads over to the group, shaking his head at their excitement over him approaching.
Fox is grinning at the escorts, happy to see Roo have friends among them, as he turns back to Shams, but it falters when he sees her looking unsure. "If you figure out how to forget we're here for the Games, please let me know how," Shams tells him quietly.
"Well how about that drink?" Fox offers, holding out his arm to her. Shams stares at it for a moment before hesitantly taking it and letting him lead her over to the bar, where Anastacia is already leaving with a drink in hand.
"I don't do well with people," Shams says quietly, looking around longingly at the tributes with their mentors.
"You're doing fine with me," Fox points out to her with a grin. "That's something."
"You're different," Shams answers, her cheeks flushing a little. "You're one of the kindest people I've ever met."
"So are you, Shams," Fox tells her softly, truly meaning it. She pulls him to a stop and he looks down at her curiously, finding her shaking her head in disbelief. "I'm serious, Shams. You've been one of the easiest people for me to talk to in a long time and…you don't know how much of a relief that is."
"Oh…" she says, looking away from him and around at the rest of the tributes and mentors. "You'll find I'm boring soon enough…"
"I highly doubt that," he answers as he gently pulls her along again. She doesn't say anything else as he gets two drinks for them and she fiddles with the small straw in her glass for a moment until he holds up his glass to her. "Well, cheers to avoiding talking to people," he tells her and she smiles a little as she clinks her glass with his.
Fox downs half his drink quickly, needing a bit of the liquid courage as he looks around the room. Amelia catches his gaze and he gives a small wave at her, before turning back to look at Shams, who stares down at her untouched drink. "Who are you avoiding talking to?" she asks curiously, looking up to meet his gaze.
"Just my friends," he answers with a casual shrug. He takes a sip of his drink before continuing, needing to explain himself after the curious look she gives him. "I don't want their concern tonight. Things back home are…messy, to say the least." She starts frowning at that statement so he gently bumps her shoulder with his elbow, trying to change the subject. "But what about you? Anyone in particular you're trying to avoid talking to?"
"I'm not actively avoiding them," Shams answers quietly, taking a sip of her drink as she looks around the room. "Just…shy."
"Well, we can always talk to them later together," Fox offers to her and she nods her head a little, drinking some more. They stand together in slightly awkward silence, looking around the room and sipping their drinks. "Who are you thinking?"
"Who are you thinking?" Shams asks in return and Fox can only shrug, not having any suggestions for her. She should ally with who she wants, simple as that. She sighs and shakes her head before answering him, "I guess…I don't know, whoever talks to me first."
"That's fair," Fox answers, but he knows he'll try to help her talk to some of the other tributes tonight. Having an ally saved his life, so he's going to try to save hers as well. He catches sight of Amelia heading their way and he downs the rest of his drink, only feeling a little guilty for actively avoiding his friend. He sets the glass aside before motioning for her half-finished drink. She hands it to him with a little confusion until he gives her a grin. "Well if we're not going to talk to people," he says, taking her hand and starting to walk backwards to the dance floor. "How about some dancing instead?"
"Oh no, I can't do that," Shams says, shaking her head and pulling slightly on his hand, yet she still lets him lead her out to the dance floor. "I don't – I've never-"
"Never danced?" Fox asks teasingly, watching her get all flustered by it. "Now I find that hard to believe. Come on, you can't be worse than me."
"I'm not sure about that," Shams answers as he takes both of her hands and gives her a spin, getting a small laugh from her.
"I'll just dance extra awful to make you look better," Fox tells her, laughing when he knows that won't be hard for him to do. He gestures with his head over to where Jory and Emilio are also dancing, "And ultimately we can't be worse than them."
Shams lets out another laugh at that and quickly covers her mouth, looking embarrassed by the action. But Fox just wants to get her laughing more. "Guess you'll have to just show me."
Fox gives her a big twirl, getting her laughing again, and he grins more than he has in months as he starts dancing with her. For once he's able to just forget about everything that's been going on and just…have fun in the moment. And it seems like Shams is having just as much fun as he is.
But of course, the moment doesn't last long.
"Excuse me," a voice says and they stop dancing to look over at the Capitolite standing beside them. He offers his hand with a big flourish of feathers on his jacket and smiles at Shams, but something about him unsettles Fox. But he quickly brushes the feeling aside, knowing Seraphim wouldn't let someone be here if they weren't trustworthy. "Mind if I cut in to dance with the pretty lady?"
Shams gives Fox a nervous look and he gives her an encouraging smile and nods his head. This is good, very good for her to have the attention of a Capitolite. Never know who might be a sponsor. "Okay," Shams says softly before taking his hand, letting him twirl her away from Fox.
Fox smiles at the sight of Shams dancing and seemingly having fun, but the smile soon fades away when Amelia waves him over, standing with a group of mentors. He holds back a small sigh, knowing he can't avoid her now, but knowing she at least won't ask too many personal questions when they're around the others. He puts on a smile as he approaches the group, surprised to see more than their typical group from the Quell. Misha isn't a surprise at all, but Cal, Pinova, and Clark being included is a surprise. "Hey, how's it going?"
Clark gives a shrug with a sneer in Odyssey's direction, but Cal gives him a handshake and pat on the back while Pinova speaks up, "Good, good! I had an idea I wanted to talk to all of you about."
"Why us?" Odyssey asks curiously, clearly wondering why them and not some of the older mentors.
"Well, Seraphim wants us to get everyone socializing," Pinova explains and a few of them glance over in the Head Gamemaker's direction. "I think if us younger mentors get the tributes to come hang out with us in the evening, it could do a lot of good getting the Districts talking to each other. And I'm sure Ain could get some of the escorts to help us out too!"
"Part of me doubts tributes like yours will want to hang out with careers," Anastacia answers with a casual shrug.
"Come on, we like hanging out with you and Odyssey," Amelia teases her and gives her shoulder a bump.
"We're an exception," Anastacia shrugs once more. "We're cool careers," she continues, getting a snort from Odyssey at that. "It's yet to be determined if I can say the same about this year's group."
Fox can see Pinova looking upset at the lack of immediate agreement to her plan and he clears his throat, bringing all of their attention to him. "I think it's a great idea," he tells them, watching Pinova start smiling immediately. "We have to at least give it a shot."
"Maybe some of us don't want to be buddies with the person who murdered their tribute!" Clark snaps at them, glaring at Odyssey for a few seconds, before turning and leaving without a word.
They watch him storm off back to where Astrid stands with Rhiannon, Kazu, and Iris, and the older women all give a glare in their direction for upsetting Clark.
"Ouch, tough crowd," Cal says, trying to break the awkward tension now in the group.
Odyssey gives a loud sigh and Misha tries to rub his shoulder in comfort, "No, he's right. I deserve him being upset with me."
None of them know what to say to that as Misha whispers something to him, so Fox clears his throat. "Well we can start with us and work on getting more involved," he tells them, getting a few nods of agreement, but all of them are a bit more reluctant to agree. He can't help but wonder how they're supposed to get their tributes to get along when all the mentors can't even get along?
Fox looks around the room and immediately grows concerned when he notices Shams heading his way, looking quite upset about something. "Excuse me," Fox tells the group without looking back at them, heading right over to his tribute. "Hey, what's wrong?" he asks Shams right away, grabbing her arm gently to steady her.
Shams shakes her head at him before glancing back over her shoulder, and Fox follows her gaze to that weird Capitolite that danced with her. "It's…nothing."
"Doesn't seem like nothing to me," Fox says, focusing on her. "Who was he?" he asks gently, aware of how upset she seems.
She shakes her head, looking away from him to follow the man as he walks over to the next person he seems intent on talking to. "I was going to ask you that. He felt…dangerous."
Fox stops moving immediately at that, using his hands in Shams to stop her too. Fear roots him in place and he lets go of her hands so she can't notice them shaking. If someone dangerous is here… "Do I need to talk to Seraphim?"
"No, please don't do something because of me!" Shams answers quickly, shaking her head as her cheeks flush in embarrassment. "I don't think dangerous was the right word. He just, I don't know, was unsettling with the way he was staring and asking questions about…"
"About what?" Fox asks when she falls silent for a few seconds, looking away from him. She shakes her head and he can tell she's afraid to tell him. "You can trust me, I promise."
"I don't deserve you caring about me," she whispers, still looking away from him, but he can see her eyes beginning to shine with tears. She blinks them away quickly as his heart breaks for her, wishing he could do something to make her realize she does deserve him looking out for her. "I'm not a good person, Fox," she finally says, meeting his gaze. "I…I've done something I regret…"
"That doesn't matter to me," Fox answers right away, feeling the truth of it. "And to the others. You're on our team now and I – we – are going to protect you and get you out of that arena. And once you're out of there, we'll be your new family. I promise."
Shams smiles sadly and shakes her head at that. "No one keeps their promises to me. I don't deserve it."
"You do, and I'm keeping mine," Fox gives her a gentle smile before taking her hands again. "Now come on, we're supposed to be having fun tonight. What do you say we go find Roo and drag him out onto the dance floor?"
The thought of their young and professional escort dancing with them brings a genuine smile to her, one that makes Fox smile more in return. "That sounds good to me."
Bezel Dorsey, 18, Capitol
For being at a party hosted by the Capitol, Bez really expected…more. The music was stuffy, the clothes were tacky, and the people. Ugh, they're all so boring gray. This isn't the Capitol that Bez has come to know and love in their short time studying here.
That kid from Three who volunteered with the least conviction ever is at least trying to lighten up the mood with his music. Some are trying to dance, a small group being led by Fox. All of the District Ten team were out there, even their stuck up escort, who can't do much aside from awkwardly shuffling in place. The escort's involvement got some of the other escorts out there, with Mord and Sloan being chaotic together as Roo watches on with a flash of jealousy.
But it was not doing anything for Bez. How are they supposed to feel the spark of color they need for their art with a party like this? They needed…the neon colors of the clubs in the Capitol. Yeah, that would get these scared pussies to loosen up and have some fun. And clearly it's up to them to do it since no one else is willing to do anything.
Bez is on their way over to that scrawny kid playing music to demand he play something better when Vulcan calls them over. They let out a loud sigh as they pause, staring over at the music station, before turning to face the group of careers. They don't exactly want to be with the toxic green of training that the careers all just ooze but…well, it's something for them to do. They'll at least hear them out.
Bez saunters over to the group, hips swinging and taking their time, knowing they're all looking at them as the last one to arrive. They use the time to study all of them and quite frankly…they're not impressed. Mercy and Chantelle are so bland looking and they can't be bothered to learn the difference between their two very similar looks. At least Valletta's height makes her a standout, but Bez can just tell she oozes basic career energy. Like come on Four, get it together.
Then there's Adonis and Vulcan, who seem all but ready to have a dick measuring contest to prove their masculinity. Ugh, makes them want to barf. That alone almost makes Bez turn away from them, but the last two make them stay because they'll admit, they're a little curious. Juno just screams mysterious gray, with his streak of white in his hair covering one eye while the other looks Bez up and down. And Ardent, well, everyone in One knows his story and Bez wants to know the real tea about him.
"Are you all finally ready to get this party started?" Bez asks them, putting their hands on their hips as they stare down the group. They aren't quite sure they want to be with them, their whole vibe is just making them bleak gray and dulling them, just like their parents did to them in training.
"We're here to talk alliances," Vulcan says, puffing out his chest and reminding them too much of Adonis trying so hard on his appearance in the few hours of knowing him.
"Ugh you can smell all the toxic masculinity from a mile away," Bez says, waving their hand in front of their face as if they could actually fan it away. It's making them feel shit brown, no thanks. "I thought I escaped that when I left One. Nah, we're here to party, strategy can wait until tomorrow. Come on, streaky, let's dance."
Juno raises an eyebrow at them calling him streaky, but soon gives them a smirk. "I'm down for some fun," he tells them, taking their outstretched hand and letting Bez lead him to the dance floor. "But if you want me to streak, you just have to ask, you know."
Bez opens their mouth to give a response, but promptly closes it, putting their hands on their hips as they look him over. There are certainly worse options for them…a lot worse. When their gaze returns to Juno's, he's waiting with an amused glint in his eyes. "Five minutes of dancing with me and your pants will be hitting the floor."
"Hmm, I doubt the Gamemakers would like that… It sounds scandalous," Juno says, flirting hint in his voice as he follows them out to the dance floor.
"You want scandalous? You've come to the right person," Bez tells him, turning around to face him. They give him a wink, "Come on, let's show these stuffy pricks how to dance."
The music isn't ideal for the dancing they want, but Bez didn't earn their reputation at the parties they went to by being unable to twerk to any song. They back their booty right up to Juno, waiting to see how he reacts, and they grin when he starts dancing with them immediately. Now here is someone from the careers they could see themself actually having fun with. They can see some of the people nearby looking mortified at their dancing, which just encourages them to get even more into it.
When Mord and Sloan catch sight of them dancing, the escort from Nine lets out a whoop and pulls them over to the pair. "Yooo twerk off! Let's go!"
"Fuck yeah, that's what I'm talking about!" Bez yells out and moves to stand next to Mord, both of them getting low to shake their butts, while Sloan and Juno cheer them on. Now why couldn't they have a fun escort like these two instead of old Zan?
"No, you're not doing it right!" Sloan yells at Mord and tries to show him how he's doing it wrong.
Bez raises an eyebrow at Juno as the two stop to watch Sloan. "Come on, let's see you shake that fine ass!"
"If you insist," Juno answers in a teasing tone before showing Sloan how it's done, with Bez cheering him on and giving his ass a smack.
"No, dude, I am way better!" Mord insists, twerking even more and Bez has to join in as well. They find themself laughing loudly as they dance with these three, feeling neon purple and just…having a good time for the first time at this party so far.
But of course, the prissy bitches have to ruin all of their fun. The two escorts get stopped when Roo is the biggest party downer ever and drags the two escorts away. "What a nerd," Bez says, shaking their head as they watch the escorts leave. "And I was finally starting to have fun too!"
"Oh?" Juno asks, raising an eyebrow at them. "Were you not having fun with me?"
Bez turns to face him, wiggling both of their eyebrows and grinning at him. "Oh you're the most fun one here. Which is why I can't possibly understand why you want to be with those stuck up fools," they point over their shoulder in the direction of the other careers, watching his reaction. "If you ride with me, I can show you a whole world of color."
"I have no doubt about it," Juno answers with a deep laugh that makes Bez feel a flash of navy lust. "You and I, we're different than them. We won't settle for just…ordinary." He reaches out, twirling one of the strands of their hair around his finger and barely brushing against their cheek. Oh yeah, he's making them feel all sorts of colors. "I can tell you won't waste your time with them, so let me have a little fun, play the field and learn their secrets."
"Why do I feel like you're going to share everyone's secrets but your own?" Bez asks him and Juno immediately flashes them a grin that tells them that they are completely correct with that. And that would normally make them crimson red, but they still have that navy in them – not the angry lustful cobalt towards Levi, but just pure navy lust. "You're a tease, Juno Ladair. There's only enough room for one of us here."
"Guess we'll have to find a way to settle who is the bigger tease then," Juno gives a tug on the strand of hair before stepping back with a wink. "We'll talk more at a later time."
"Oh we most definitely will," Bez tells him, watching his tight ass as he walks away from them. They have missed what training does to physiques. And he better talk to them another time and do a lot more than talking.
Oh the things they could paint right now with these emotions… They certainly wouldn't mind painting Juno and suspect he'd be down for some nude modeling. But for now… Bez storms over to where Adonis is chatting away with Odyssey and Misha, hip checking him out of the way mid-sentence. "Move it, ass kisser, I need my mentor."
"Excuse you, I was talking to him," Adonis gives them a not too gentle shove in return, but he's barely able to make them budge, much to his annoyance.
"Yeah well, go suck your own mentor's dick," Bez answers with a shrug before turning back to Odyssey, who is pinching his nose. When he moves his hand, Bez gives him an innocent flutter of their eyelashes, knowing they're about to send him on a goose chase for art supplies.
"Bez, what can I do for you?" Odyssey asks, doing his very best to give them a welcoming smile, but his eyes show how stressed he is.
"I need painting supplies asap while I have these," they wave their hand in front of their chest, searching for all the colors in them. "These colors in me."
"Yes because now is the time to be painting," Adonis says, rolling his eyes at them. "Talk about a waste of time."
"Someone's jealous I'm getting some ass before them," Bez says in a singsong voice and his eyes narrow, proving their point. They look at their nails, not giving him the satisfaction of addressing him directly, "I bet I can get with Juno by the end of the night. And if not him, definitely Ardent."
"Please, like either of them would settle for you when they could have me instead," Adonis answers with a scoff and Bez slowly drags their gaze up to him, one eyebrow raised at the fact that they're clearly getting under his skin.
"People don't like whiney little boys like you," Bez replies with a casual shrug, turning back to Odyssey before Adonis can give a response. Their mentor watches on with a bewildered look as Misha stands beside him, trying to hold back an amused look. "So painting supplies? Tonight would be nice but if not, well," they give a shrug. "I can find other ways to spend my time." They turn to leave, giving Adonis a condescending pat on the shoulder as they walk past him. "Watch and learn how it's done."
Bez searches the room for either of their two targets and finds one of them returning from the food table, small plate in hand stacked up with desserts only. Ah, finally, a moment when his mentors aren't hovering over him. They aren't in the mood for Anastacia's condescending tone and better-than-thou attitude tonight. "Ardent!" Bez calls over to the boy from One as they approach, waving their hand when he looks around for who called his name.
Ardent looks a bit nervous as he gives them a small wave of acknowledgment, which is all they need to approach him. "Bez," he says in greeting, taking in their appearance. "Didn't expect to see you in the Games after…everything."
Bez doesn't let their smile falter at the mention of the fallout they had at the training academy before going to the Capitol, instead giving him a shrug. "I've had a change of heart," they say, giving him a flirty smile, jutting out their hip a little and puffing up their chest. They tilt their head to the side a little, staring at him and wiggling their eyebrows a little at him. "Seems like I haven't been the only one who has been…busy since I left One."
"Busy is not how I would describe it, Bez," Ardent replies uncomfortably.
"Fine, we'll call it what it was of potentially murdering a cheating bitch," Bez responds casually with a wave of their hand. "Lemme tell ya, you're way better off without her. The rumors in the locker room of her – homegirl got around."
Ardent looks pained at the way Bez talks about his ex and looks away from them, struggling to compose himself. "I came here to get freedom from that, not talk about it some more."
"We can talk about something else then," Bez tells him, shrugging when he turns back to look at them. "How about you and me?"
"What about you and me?" Ardent asks, looking a little nervous at their directness. Perfect.
Bez rests their hand gently on his arm, watching his cheeks turn a little pink at the contact. "Come on, you can't tell me you really want to spend your newly earned freedom with that stuffy group of careers. Let me paint your world with all the colors the Capitol can offer you now."
"I…" he swallows nervously and Bez uses every ounce of patience they have – which isn't much – to keep up their slow flirting. "Anastacia says I should keep options open."
"Well my option is wide open," Bez answers him with a wink. "Any time you want your world rocked the Bez Dorsey way, you know where to find me."
With that, they trail their fingers down his arm, letting their nails gently scratch him, before stepping back with a wink. They turn away from him, swaying their hips as they head off, knowing he'll be watching them. They'll all be watching them by the time these Games start.
And do they love the colors this party is finally making them feel.
Rhiannon Collier, 18, District Eight
She knows she should be trying to talk to someone here, but how is she supposed to do that when she sees the judgement in all of their eyes? She's not naïve – prison destroyed whatever innocence was left in her – and she knows all they see is the murderer, not the girl desperately trying to save her brothers. They might all be free now but they still are looking down on those that volunteered with cuffs on their wrists. She rubs at her raw wrists, still able to feel the weight of them after they were on for so long. They can dress her up fancy and do her hair, but it doesn't hide the fact that she's a murderer. They all know it and have avoided her.
Except for Clark.
He shouldn't be wasting his time on someone like her… Yet he's barely left her side since the Reaping and keeps talking, giving her ideas and strategy that she is just overwhelmed by. Soon enough he'll realize she's a lost cause and focus on Kazu with Astrid and give District Eight a better shot at winning than she can give them.
But most of all, she hates that he reminds her so much of her brothers and that she wants to open up to him so badly. But she can't. What will even be left of her if she lets herself breakdown? Will there even be pieces left to put back together? No, she doesn't think there will be, so it's best she just keeps it all inside still. No matter how much he reminds her of a brother. She has to protect him from the pain inside her.
She puts her head in her hands, feeling the tears that want to fall but holding them back, finally getting a moment alone at the party – but only because Clark had to use the bathroom. Once he's back, she's sure he won't leave her side again… So she can't let herself fall apart yet, not in front of all these people. She hasn't cried once since it all happened, refusing to let them see her breakdown, and she isn't going to start doing that tonight. So as hard as it is, she forces her head back up and blinks back any tears, before looking around the room to see if anyone noticed her slip up.
But no one is paying attention to her and why would they? She's not the careers, all shiny and exciting with potential in front of them as they laugh and dance together. But even the other non-career tributes have already started talking to each other, like the boys from Seven and Nine, or the girl from Eleven making herself known as her District partner follows her around, looking angry at this whole situation. Not even Rhiannon's own District partner has wanted to really talk to her…someone from home… She's going to die alone in that arena, isn't she? Is that better than rotting away in prison for a few decades? At home she might at least get the chance to see her brothers again but now…
What has she done?
She scrambles to her feet, keeping her head down as she starts heading over to the bathroom quickly, needing to get away from all the prying eyes. But of course she's not fast enough and runs right into Clark, spilling the glasses of water in his hands all over them. "I'm so sorry," she mumbles quickly, her throat scratching from using the muscles for something other than screaming into a pillow, feeling guilt that she can't even do this right. At this rate, he's going to hate her before she even gets into the Games and just leave her to die…
"It's alright – wait you…" Clark trails off and Rhiannon meets his eyes, realizing too what she had done. She covers her mouth with her hand and shakes her head, before stepping past him and trying to keep going to the bathroom where she can sit in a stall and hide from these people. "Wait! Please, let me help you!"
Rhiannon desperately wants his help, but can't do that when she knows she'll just be giving him the power to hurt her the moment he stops caring. Yet he gently grabs her arm, pulling her to a stop and turning her to face him. She avoids looking at him, his eyes almost the same level as hers, and she shakes her head as she stares down at the ground. "I don't…" she clears her throat, suddenly wishing she hadn't spilled those cups of water. "Deserve it…"
"Well you don't get to decide if I help you or not, so you're stuck with it," Clark tells her, crossing his arms stubbornly as he stares at her. She slowly meets his gaze, wrapping her arms around herself to protect herself, and shakes her head again. She doesn't understand why he is so determined to help her. She's not a good person and doesn't deserve it. "Look, I'm sticking by your side through all of this, no matter what. I chose to be your mentor and I'm not going back on that." He sighs and runs a hand through his hair, thoroughly messing it up and Rhiannon has to fight the urge to smooth it out like she would when her younger brothers would do the same. He's not her brother, he's her mentor, despite being two years younger than her. She's certain he doesn't want to get babied by his tribute. "I'm aware I don't really know what I'm doing here, but I'm trying. I just…could use some help from you. I need to know what I can do to help you."
Rhiannon gives a small shrug at him, balling her hands into fists at her sides and digging her nails into her palms to fight back the urge to break down to him. She can't here. Everyone would really not want to be her ally if she had a full meltdown at the banquet.
"Do you want me to talk to mentors?" Clark offers, looking around the room at the others. "Because I can – just please don't say Odyssey because it will be less talking and more yelling."
The thought of Clark going up to a full fledged career victor and yelling at him gets a small laugh out of her, surprising both of them. She covers her mouth again with her hand, feeling embarrassed by the sound, yet it just seems to encourage him more. "I know I suck at the whole talking about feelings things but…" he looks across the room for a few seconds before finally sighing and turning back to her. "But I know Letha is good at that. She's like…a mom to everyone, no matter who you are or where you're from."
It's been so many years of foster homes and then prison that she barely even remembers anymore what it's like to have a mom… She thought she was fine without parents after so many years defending herself, but with the thought of having something like that…she finds herself nodding her head in agreement.
Clark immediately lights up at that and she gives a tentative smile in return, which only seems to encourage him even more. "Okay, yeah, let me go get her! I'll be right back so don't go anywhere."
He hurries off to go get the victor, leaving Rhiannon to her thoughts that don't take long to start spiraling. She should have said no, she's going to be bothering Letha with this when she has her own tribute to be looking after. A tribute who is just like her…no, it's foolish to think Ciana would want to ally with another murderer. She's here to earn freedom and associating with Rhiannon is a death sentence.
Yet all she can do is watch as Clark storms up to Letha and Ciana, interrupting their conversation to talk to the older victor animatedly, gesturing over in Rhiannon's direction a few times. She finds herself frozen in her spot, even though she'd love to run away from here, especially when Letha turns and starts making her way over, smile never fading from her face.
"Hello dear, I'm Letha," the victor says before shocking Rhiannon by greeting her with a hug. She stays stiff in Letha's arms until she steps back, still smiling at the girl. "Clark said he needed some help because he's, and I quote, inept at talking about feelings." That gets a tiny snort of laughter from Rhiannon, which just seems to encourage Letha. "How about we get something to drink, maybe some snacks, and we can sit somewhere a bit quieter?"
Rhiannon nods her head and Letha gently takes her hand, leading her around the crowd of people to get them some water and a plate of food, before heading to an unoccupied table in the corner.
"We don't have to talk about anything in the past right now if you don't want to," Letha says as they sit down at an empty table and Rhiannon just feels relief at that. She isn't ready to unbox everything that happened just yet. "So how are you doing right now?"
Rhiannon lets out a sigh as she runs a finger through the condensation on the side of her glass, drawing swirls in it as she bites her lip and thinks of her response. "Overwhelmed."
"Yes, that's a very understandable feeling," Letha responds with an encouraging smile. "A party is a lot to get thrown into first thing upon arrival in the Capitol, but believe me, better this than the chariots." She shakes her head and chuckles to herself, thinking about tomorrow's event, while Rhiannon is just petrified by the thought. Letha notices right away and reaches over to take her hand, giving it a comforting squeeze. "I mean the prep part of it. They rip out so much hair! The actual chariots themselves aren't too bad and really…it doesn't matter in the long term what impression you make."
Rhiannon sits back in her chair and takes a sip of her water, her hand shaking the whole time and she worries she's going to spill her drink. She hadn't put much thought into the chariots yet, but now that Letha mentioned it, she can't help but worry about the loud noise and being in the spotlight. "I'm scared."
"You have no reason to be," Letha tells her, giving another squeeze of her hand and an encouraging smile. "But we don't have to keep talking about that. Have you talked to any of the other tributes yet?"
Rhiannon shakes her head at that and from the sad look in Letha's eyes, the victor already knew this answer. She's barely even talked to her own mentor, let alone any other tributes…she's barely spoken since her conviction… Yet sitting with Letha and having Clark hovering, she's starting to realize she doesn't want to be alone. She's been so alone since she was put in her cold jail cell and now that she's free, she doesn't want to stay alone. But who will actually accept her?
"Would you like to meet Ciana?" Letha asks gently and Rhiannon gives a small shrug, really not sure about that. "She's like you…she didn't do the thing she was committed for."
"But I did," Rhiannon says softly, pain in her voice for just admitting it out loud. "I murdered him when…"
"After he had attacked your brothers and killed one of them," Letha says gently, putting a hand soothingly on Rhiannon's shoulder. She blinks in surprise at the victor knowing this, before frowning a bit. Of course they have already broadcast her trial to the whole nation. "I asked the Gamemakers for some more info on potential allies for Ciana. And I just have to say…I don't believe someone like you would do something like that without good reason."
"You barely know me," Rhiannon answers quietly, shaking her head in disbelief. "I'm guilty."
"You acted in self-defense," Letha corrects her and Rhiannon can just shrug. "I can see you have a good heart already. Otherwise you wouldn't be feeling the way you do. So dear, I think you should talk to Ciana. I think it would be good for you." Rhiannon can't really find it in her to say no to Letha, not when she's been nothing but kind to her. Yet the thought of talking to another tribute scares her… The victor seems to realize this and gives her a gentle smile. "I'll stay with you the whole time."
It takes a few seconds for Rhiannon to finally nod her head and let Letha start leading her through the crowd once more. "Oh!" Letha says in surprise and Rhiannon looks past her, starting to pull on her hand to stop at the sight of Ciana talking to Shams and Fox. "Looks like we'll be talking to Shams too. I promise, any tribute that Fox is mentoring must be nice."
Rhiannon finds that hard to believe, but she doesn't have much choice but to go along with it. Surely they're just going to think she's a monster and want nothing to do with her…she's wasting Letha's time here.
"Letha!" Fox says cheerfully as the pair approaches, giving her a grin followed by a hug. "We saw Ciana over here on her own and I thought we'd go and chat with her. I was wondering where you were."
"Yes, I was talking to Rhiannon here," Letha says, putting a gentle hand on Rhiannon's shoulder as she introduces her to the others. "I was bringing her over to introduce her to Ciana but here you are. I say the more the merrier."
"Hi there," Ciana answers somewhat timidly and offers out her hand, which Rhiannon takes for a brief second to shake. Rhiannon barely makes eye contact with her, finding the other girl doing the same, but she catches a fire in her eyes that Rhiannon lacks. "Nice to meet you."
"You too," Rhiannon says quietly, before glancing over at Shams. The girl from Ten is lingering next to Fox, partially standing behind him in protection, and Rhiannon finds herself relating to her. "Shams, right?"
She nods her head and gives a tentative smile, stepping forward to shake her hand as well. "Yes, that's me."
Rhiannon nervously smiles at Shams and Ciana, just waiting for them to accuse her of being a murderer, but it doesn't come. And maybe it won't… There's something in both of them that she finds herself relating to, making her feel just a little bit relaxed with them. She can tell they're broken girls, just like her. And there's something comforting about not being the only one.
She glances over at where Clark sits with Astrid and when he sees her looking, he gives her a thumbs up and an encouraging smile, which she tries to return before turning back to the two girls in front of her. He's so excited at the sight of her talking to others…she doesn't want to let him down. So maybe she can at least try to stick around them, even if she's not talking much.
That could be enough, right?
Julian Avis, Head of Capitol Muttation Research
The old him would have loathed being at a party like this, surrounded by people, being forced to keep up meaningless conversations with them to earn their favor. But now, Julian doesn't have to keep up an appearance – well, he does, but not in that way – and he can just be his normal self that unsettles the people around him. And that fact has liberated him, allowing him to enjoy walking among the groups, talking to all of the tributes with his parrot Fucker on his shoulder.
What personal growth he's had over the years.
It's a bummer that the rest of the Gamemaker team wasn't invited aside from Seraphim and Zephyr – but probably for the best because he would have spent all his time talking to Magnus about the mutts for the arena. He isn't here to have fun with his partner, he has an important job to do, given to him directly by his good friend who also just happens to be the person in charge of their security. No, not Theodosius, even though he'd claim that responsibility. Julian glances across the room, finding Kostas talking quietly with a few guards, no doubt getting a status update from them. Her eyes are constantly scanning the room and when she notices Julian looking her way with his head tilted and gaze studying everything, she grins and gives him a brief nod of acknowledgement before turning back to her task. She's the only one who doesn't flinch from his sharp gaze, having worked closely with him over the last fourteen years, never forgetting him as she rose up the ranks of the Security department.
"So like, what's your deal dude? You really like birds? That's dope."
Julian slowly turns his head to look at the person interrupting him, already knowing who to expect from hearing him shouting the whole time about 'parkour' and other dumb things that Julian doesn't comprehend. "None of your business," Julian tells Mord in a monotone, hoping the escort will get the hint to leave him alone already.
Fucker squawks on his shoulder and repeats what he said – something they've been working on to get her to blend in more – and Julian reaches into his pocket to reward her with a treat. But this only serves to further interest Mord. "Oh sweet bird, dude! Can I pet – ow!"
Julian turns back to Mord at his high pitched scream from Fucker biting on his finger. He studies him as the young escort holds his finger in his mouth, trying to stop the bleeding. "No one touches her," he says casually, reaching up to give her a scratch for biting him. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have a job to do."
Mord yells something after him but Julian ignores him, moving Fucker to his hand so he can hold her closer to his chest as he starts maneuvering the crowd for his next target. Theodosius had passed him a list of tributes to talk to and he still had a few to get through, airing on the side of caution and talking to others to not draw suspicion that they're being watched. He did loath having to talk to the Capitol pair – he really did not appreciate Bezel telling him his hair was tacky or Adonis flirting with him, which was as effective as flirting with a blank wall. But the rest were a lot of kids that didn't seem like they were awful people, despite volunteering for the Games. Just kids trying to fight for better lives for themselves or their families – like Riley, Sonya, and Cimmer.
Tributes that weren't too different from how he was fourteen years ago. Although he suspects that most of them hadn't participated in Capitol research and murdered people before now. Eh, minor details.
Now the ones who had committed murder – or at least were convicted of it – those were the ones he is responsible for tonight. And, as he had already started to find out, some who had potentially committed murder and weren't caught. The only problem is all three of the ones he wants to talk to have mentors attached to their hips most of the time. Julian has to choose which he wants to face the least.
He gets his opportunity when Bez leaves Ardent, clearly not done with him from the way they trail their fingers down his arm and wink as they leave him, but hopefully they'll stay away until Julian is done with him. "Alright Fucker, let's see what he has to say."
"Ardent Sterling," Julian calls out as he approaches and the boy looks around at his name, prompting Julian to give a wave when he doesn't realize who said his name. The tribute looks a little uneasy at his approach and he looks for his mentors, but it's too late to escape. "Mind if we have a little chat?"
Ardent forces a smile, playing the part of a good little career who will do his best to make Capitolite's happy if it means earning their sponsorship. No harm in just omitting the fact that Julian is forbidden from it on the claim that it's not fair since his mutt research can influence things. "I've seen you chatting with the others," Ardent says, keeping his tone polite, but guarded. "Didn't know if you would settle for someone like me." His words linger, but they both know what he means. Settle for a criminal.
"Our past President was a fair one," Julian points out, but neglects the fact that he killed someone volunteering just like Ardent in his Games. "And so you have a fair shot towards victory. I just want to see how you feel about all of this."
Does he regret it or think there was nothing wrong with it?
Ardent's face falls and he turns away, but not before Julian catches his frown and guilt in his eyes. "It's…overwhelming. And a little frustrating…"
"What's frustrating?" Julian prompts, pushing him towards the topic on his own.
Ardent sighs and runs a hand through his hair. He shakes his head before answering Julian, "You say our past President was a fair one, yet everyone still judges me being here and free, for a crime I don't even know if I did. I just…" he sighs once more and turns his face to the floor, mulling it over before meeting Julian's gaze, his eyes silently pleading for acceptance. "I want to live again and be past it."
To Ardent's credit, he hasn't lied at all to Julian. He tilts his head as he studies the tribute for a moment, before determining that he is far from being like some of the volunteered criminals of the past. "I see," he answers quietly, mentally cataloging his response for his report later. "Do you think you did-"
"Ardent!"
Julian sighs loudly and rolls his eyes at one of the boy's mentors interrupting him, before forcing a pleasant smile as he turns to face them. Elias is following after Anastacia, clearly trying to stop her, but there's nothing he can do to stop that woman when she's on a mission.
"Hello Anastacia," Ardent says to her, allowing her to pinpoint his location. She slows as she approaches and Elias grabs her arm to gently stop her before she can bump into him. "What's up?"
"Is this man bothering you?" Anastacia asks him, putting her hands on her hips and not caring about saying this right in front of Julian. "Elias said you looked uncomfortable."
"He's fine," Julian says before Ardent gets the chance to speak, bringing her attention over to him. "We were just having a little chat and-"
"I don't know who you are and frankly don't care to learn who you are either," Anastacia says and much to Julian's disdain, Fucker doesn't squawk at her, revealing she's being brutally honest. She puts her hands on her hips, managing to fix him with a glare directed almost exactly at him. Next to her, Elias puts his hand on her shoulder, clearly trying to get her to back off, but he isn't going to be able to stop her. "But you first made Fox's tribute uncomfortable and now mine, so back off. If not," she manages to give a casual shrug at him, "Well, I don't care that we're at a party, I'll still fight you."
Julian gives a loud laugh at her threat and fights the urge to take a cautionary step back from her, knowing from Fucker's silence that she means it. "Oh you District One tributes are always so quick to anger and ready for a fight," he tells her, moving Fucker from his shoulder and taking a step back to give a dramatic bow that is wasted on her. When he straightens up, he fixes Ardent with his sharp look, watching him get uncomfortable. "Excellent chat, Ardent. Now if you'll excuse me, I have others to go talk to."
Julian turns with a twirl of his feathered sleeves and heads back into the crowd, but not before Anastacia calls after him to have the last word. "I'm watching you, bud! Well, not actually watching, but you know what I mean!"
Julian lets himself laugh at that, a few tributes nearby flinching at the sound. Oh let her think that she can keep a metaphorical eye on him. He's worked with Theodosius for fourteen years. Anastacia doesn't scare him at all. "Whatever you say, dear," he calls back over his shoulder at her, not bothering to watch her undoubtedly annoyed reaction. Instead, he turns his focused gaze to the room around them, watching the tributes and trying to figure out who he should talk to next. Part of him wants to go find more of the careers and watch them get unsettled by him, but he catches Theodosius's eye and restrains from any past pettiness.
When Theodosius turns away, he gives a roll of his eyes at the incessant observation. As if he would actually do anything to risk his life after fourteen years of this. He enjoys his new life and won't risk it. But he certainly will enjoy the perks of being a Capitolite. And why not stir up some drama in the process?
He struts across the room to where one of the District Two mentors is currently sulking as he glares over at his fellow victor. "Well, well, well, what do we have here?" Julian asks as he approaches Drazen, getting a small sneer from him before the victor realizes he shouldn't be acting that way towards him, and instead changing to a small scowl. "Come on, party boy, I thought you enjoy being the center of attention."
"How do you – oh fuck off," he mumbles the curse under his breath, but Julian still hears him – thank you Capitol surgery for more bird like hearing. Julian leans against the wall next to Drazen, following the victor's glare to where Misha and Odyssey dance together. "Like usual, everyone only cares about him."
"Well he did win last year's Quell," Julian points out, earning a scoff in return.
"No, not him," Drazen answers, prompting Julian to turn to look at him head on. "The precious golden boy among the victors. Sweet boy who helps everyone out. Fucking Misha. No, you're not good enough if you just help your sick twin through your victory, you have to also help out the whole damn District."
Julian really needs to get out more because he should not be this interested in the drama between victors. "Yet you were talking to his tribute earlier," Julian points out, making Drazen's scowl deepen. He shrugs at the victor and turns to scan the crowd for Adonis, finding him schmoozing his way in with the traditional careers. "But I suppose you would want to talk to your tribute's potential allies. And yet, I didn't see you talk to the other careers. Interesting."
"What do you want?" Drazen asks, crossing his arms and turning to glare head on at Julian. "You should mind your own business."
"My business is everyone's business," Julian answers with a shrug, tilting his head as he studies Drazen. "So why talk to Misha's tribute?"
"No reason," Drazen answers quickly – too quickly – and Julian doesn't even need the squawk from Fucker to tell he's lying.
Julian clicks his tongue and shakes his head in disapproval, thoroughly amused at the way Drazen's feathers are getting all ruffled. "There's always a reason. So what's yours, Drazen?"
"Nothing, so fuck off," Drazen says before shoving off the wall and storming away from him, glancing back and subtly flipping Julian off when he notices him staring after him. He lets the victor leave, but watches him as he disappears into the crowd. He'll find out Drazen's reasons. After all, his task is to learn everyone's motivations.
"The victors are so delightful," Julian says to himself before scoffing at his comment. Always so arrogant, just like the victor from his own year. Perhaps it's just a District Two trait. He pushes off from the wall and shakes out his feathered hair, setting his target on the next tribute to question. He scratches the top of Fucker's head, grinning as he starts moving through the crowd.
Who needs reality television when he can just ruffle the feathers of everyone involved in the Games? Theodosius should have known better than to expect him to just do his job without having at least a little bit of fun with it. After all, they are at a party.
Well hello there. That's right, my hiatus with this is over and it's time to get back into Renegades! Thank you all for being understanding of this break while I worked on Legacy - it was the right move to make and now I'm back and excited to get to work on the pre-Games for this!
I'm not even gonna apologize for the length of this chapter (and the next two lol). There's a lot of stuff to happen in these chapters and I have been having fun writing them. Also if you didn't read Legacy and you're wondering who the hell the weird bird man (Julian) is, well, he has some things in common with Calisto (and I'd recommend reading the last epilogue of that story if you're curious about him or PM me and I can explain lol). So we have the start of a handful of things getting set up! Safe to say the careers aren't going to be very functional this year lol, if they even all stick together, and I'm excited for the chaos I have planned. And we also have the start of the Broken Girls Club (TM) which just makes me emo.
Also I'm gonna be quite frank here for a moment and if you've read this far into a 10k+ chapter and the A/N, well kuddos to you lol. I'm just gonna say this once and that's it. So if you submitted a tribute, I need to see some effort from you with reading, otherwise I can't guarantee I'm going to write more of your tribute beyond the bare minimum needed for their POV. At this point, I just can't put the same amount of effort into a tribute from a submitter who isn't following the story at all compared to someone reviewing every chapter. I have tried for the last four SYOTs to be okay with writing tributes whose submitters aren't active but I just can't. It makes it so hard to write their POVs when it seems like the submitters don't even care, because if they don't care, why should I?
This is most likely my last SYOT and I just want to write tributes I enjoy and know their submitters are still around and excited to read what I write. I'm still going to give everyone a POV in the pre-Games, but the length and quality just will not be at the same level. And once the bloodbath rolls around... *shrug*. Sorry if you don't like that, but that's the reality of how it's going to be from now on. I'm not asking for full blown reviews every single chapter, but some actual feedback and comments here and there would be appreciated so I know you're still around. And like, I get it that life happens. Truly, I do - life has not been easy for any of us in the last year. I've fallen behind on stories before so I'm not one to judge there. But I've always gotten caught up on them and made sure the author knew I was still around. All I'm asking is a little bit of the same. There's some submitters who I haven't heard from ever on this story, not even to comment about their tribute being accepted or on their intro, and I'll be frank, that hurts. I've put a lot of time and effort into giving all of the tributes equal time in the intros to get nothing in return. How am I supposed to care for a tribute when their submitter doesn't even show the same? So from now on, I'm going to put more effort into the ones I know people want to see and the ones I like. Like I said, everyone is going to get a pre-Games POV, but if you ain't reading, then they won't be same quality and length, and might not be in as many other POVs. Them's the breaks.
*Deep breath* Okay, now that I've gotten that off my chest, let's have some fun with the RQ. No more being a downer on a fun banquet chapter.
RQ #15: Fav moment from this chapter?
Alrighty, we're on track for weekly updates of this since I have the banquet all fully written at the time of posting this! So that gives me a nice cushion of three weeks to work on the next stuff and I fully anticipate getting a nice little stockpile for this going. So I will see you next week with part 2 of the banquet!