The night before:

Lily Baudilair, 15
District 9 Female

The fluffy pink bathrobe she was wearing practically swallowed her up. Lily wasn't exactly short, but who was she to complain? It was cozy and that was what mattered.

Though for some reason, she couldn't sleep. She was well out of adrenaline by now, and felt way too exhausted to be her usual energetic self. Lily stood out on the balcony, just listening to the hustle and bustle of the Capitolites beneath her, those little colourful ants. Heh. It was like she could just squish them from here. But she was way too tired to find that thought funny.

Because reality had just hit her, and it hit her hard.

Tomorrow, she could die.

Lily could easily spend training frolicking about with her allies, pretending to be blissfully unaware of the situation at hand. After all, there was so much else to do! She had to practice with weapons, prepare for interviews, hang out with Astrid as Acacia just shook her head. That was all done and well behind her.

Why the hell did she volunteer...

Lily blinked back tears, leaning on the railing. It was not worth it, so not worth it. A dare was a dare, but it never should have come this far. What did she expect!? So what her friends would make fun of her, they'd all certainly move on! She should've known better! But no, she just had to let her pride get in the way of rationality and now she was paying the price. She had dug her own grave, and there was a good chance she'd have to lie in it.

Lily's voice got caught in her throat and she let out a mangled laugh. What a way to go.

"Hey..." a small voice said behind her. "Um...are you busy?"
"Nope."
"Mind if I come out then?"

Lily shrugged. In her opinion, Paisley was not the...err...most sociable of mentors. The rumours about her being an absolute nutjob weren't exactly true, but the woman definitely had a few screws loose ever since she emerged from the Games. Plus, this was one of the rare times Paisley was not busy calling her fiance. Lily tried her damn best to be nice, but when it was beyond clear that her mentor couldn't comprehend the situation, there was only so much she was willing to take.

"You look nervous," Paisley said quietly.
"What? Nope! I'm fine!"
"Are you sure?"

"Oh yeah, I've never felt more excited in my life."
"I wouldn't be excited if I were you."

Lily's grip on the railing was suddenly very sweaty. "Well...can you blame me?"
"Are you certain you're okay?"
"Yes!"

Except she wasn't. She was so scared and uncertain and so unlike Lily Baudilair she didn't know what to do with herself. Except fake it until she made it.

No take-backs my ass.

Paisley's shaking hands were holding a mug of tea. "Okay...but just know that I'm your mentor and I want to help you...you can come to me, right? If you're scared? We can talk and I know that...um...I haven't really been around but if you need anything...just...ask?"
"Fine. I'll ask when I want to."

"Okay..." Paisley was quiet again, as usual. "Um...do you want to talk strategy?"
"We already know I'm gonna run in, grab a bunch of shit for my alliance, then book it out."
"And Astrid and Acacia know that, right?"

"If they don't they will soon."

"You're also gonna have to kill," Paisley noted. "I know it might be hard...and scary, but..."
"I can do it."
"Really?"

No. That was a lie. And a very risky thing to say. but Lily knew she'd have to take it. She got into this game with a risky move and that was the one way she'd get herself out. If it came down to her having to kill another tribute, how hard could it truly be? A simple knife throw would be enough. Or maybe her allies would do the dirty work for her and she could walk away with clean hands.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a phone ringing from back inside. Paisley turned red. "That might be my fiance."
"Why is he always calling you? Can't he keep himself busy for five minutes?"
"He just misses me."

Lily rolled her eyes. "That or he's clingy as fuck. He can wait another five minutes, right?"
For a brief moment, Paisley went pale, but the colour slowly seeped back into her cheeks. "Yeah, I guess..."

Secretly, Lily didn't want to be alone tonight, But she'd never say that out loud. "See? We have it all planned out and I just gotta stick to it. Which I will. District 9 is gonna get another Victor these Games, and one hundred percent it will be me!"
"I hope you know what you're doing."

Lily hoped so too.

Amelia Williams, 13
District 5 Female

She wanted to laugh. "Really? You're gonna spend your last night alive reading?"
Corbyn simply flipped to another page. "I want to keep my mind sharp and do something productive. Plus, you don't know what happens to me tomorrow."
"Oh yeah, everybody fears the guy with the book."
"Do you think you could leave me alone, please?"

Fine by her. She didn't hate her district partner or anything. Well, she tried not to. They were just way too different to work together. Which was a shame because some days Amelia genuinely wanted to talk to him and others, she would've laughed in his face now if something were to suddenly happen to him. He had his alliance that consisted of what he wanted, she had hers, and that was that. They were district partners and nothing more.

Stryker had invited them all up to eir floor for a last-minute get together and Amelia had to decline. She liked her alliance a lot; they were all super sweet kids and sometimes, she felt like a normal little girl around them. Except it was also stupid. They were a bunch of children, protected by a tiny 15 year-old. Nobody would ever root for them.

They were all dead men walking, weren't they.

Amelia was more than happy to change out of her suit and hop into the shower. She scrubbed off whatever smelly body lotions her prep team had coated her in, rinsed her hair of its gel, covered herself in some bubbly soaps, then washed it all away. She ran a hand through her tangled hair and suddenly she felt much more herself.

Changing into a pair of silk pyjamas, she flopped backwards onto her bed and felt her head sink into the pillows, leaving behind a clear indent. She stared up at the ceiling. It was a boring white colour, all smooth and plain and lacking any personality whatsoever. Nothing ever like her bedroom at home, which was full of her stuff that said a lot about her. This boring room had one purpose; to serve the eight girls that came before her, and many more afterwards. Probably.

Did she stand a chance? Pffffffft. Maybe tomorrow, if she was feeling much better and managed to survive the initial carnage, Amelia would entertain that possibility a little. But come on! She was thirteen years old. In a game that heavily relied on a bunch of teenagers killing each other. Hell, there were some who even volunteered for this shit! Were the odds any way in her favour?

Ha! Fat chance!

If she stayed quiet enough, she could just briefly hear Corbyn flip another page of his book. Then another. And another. And another one.

Then there was a knock on the door.

"Hey Amelia?"
"Go away."
"We'd like to do one last examination."

God, ever since she arrived in the Capitol, these stupid doctors and therapists and whatnot would not leave her alone. They just wanted to check up on her, maybe her last diagnosis was wrong, blah, blah, blah, blah! Oh yeah, they totally cared for her! They wanted to help! Didn't she want help!

She wanted help from people who cared. From her mother and brother. Who would offer it when they knew she wanted it. Not some strange man with blue hair in a white coat and coasted glasses that wouldn't let her see his eyes.

Why did they even care anyways? Because she was a tribute? Where were the "professionals" when she was an eleven year-old girl?

"Come on, it's our job to help-"
"I asked you to leave me alone."
"But-"

Amelia stormed into the bathroom, slammed the door behind her, then flushed the toilet, pulling the lever down as hard as she possibly could. She also made sure to flip on the fan, and sudden noise drowning out the voices outside her door until eventually, they all went away.

Amelia sat down on the soft bathroom mat, curling her knees as close as she could to her chest. The toilet finally stopped and after a few minutes, she had to turn off the fan, it was just...too much. Loud. Made it hard to think.

Maybe she just needed to sleep. Even if tomorrow was not going to be a good day for anyone involved, it was inevitable after all. It wouldn't hurt to get a few extra hours of rest because who knew when she'd have a good night sleep again? Besides, she wasn't doing herself any favours here, hanging out in a bathroom.

Amelia finally stood up and opened the door. Nobody was there.

Haruhi Maki, 18
District 4 Male

"Should we go over strategy one more time?" Dell asked. "You know, to make sure we don't forget?"
"You didn't forget already, did you?"
"Of course not. Double checking never hurt anyone."

Haruhi shrugged, leaning back on one of the throw pillows that decorated the couch. "If we keep reviewing the plans, we'll just make ourselves more nervous. I trust you and I know you're not just gonna blindly throw yourself into a risky situation."
"I'm not gonna do that."
Exactly."

"Okay then," Dell yawned. "Wow, I'm tired. Aren't you?"
"Not really."

"Oh..." Dell yawned again, but didn't move from her spot across from Haruhi. "Maybe we should to bed soon."
"Eventually. When I feel like it."
"Fjord probably wouldn't want us staying up too late."

"Are you nervous?" Haruhi suddenly asked. "For some strange reason, I actually don't feel that nervous."
"Of course I'm nervous. I'm scared. And worried. But you're not?"
"Not to the level I should be."

Dell seemed confused so Haruhi decided to try and explain it, hoping it sounded better than the way it did in his head. "We know our fates by now. We've had ample time to prepare and get used to it. Obviously, we're not just gonna roll over and die. But what more can we do?"
"Other than try our best? I wanna see my dad again."

Haruhi wanted to see his family too. And Clare. He missed her, but way more than he missed their relationship. That was done and over with and they were still friends, at least. He had already moved on. And there was tons of other girls for him to hang out with. They weren't Clare, but they were different, in a good way of course! No two girls were the same. He had a different relationship with each of them?

Maybe, if he did manage to win, he could give romance one last try? Clare probably wouldn't mind, would he?

"Shouldn't you two be asleep?" Fjord was back. "Well, I know that tomorrow is going to be really scary, but when you're on your guard all the time, you'll be surprised at how much you took sleep for granted. Trust me."

Haruhi shrugged. "We were just talking."
"About what?"
"Strategy and the like."
"I see."

"Well, I'm going to bed." Dell stood up. "Goodnight."
"Goodnight, Dell."

Fjord watched her go, then turn back to Haruhi. "Do you want to talk to me or something? About whatever on your mind?"
"I'm just thinking about home, mainly. That's pretty much it. Any last advice?"

"What kind of advice, aside from the ever typical 'don't get yourself killed' and 'don't get too attached to your ally' and the like? Oh, and the sponsors. Yeah, I guess don't piss them off. Or else they won't send me the money I need to keep you alive."
"Is the whole not getting attached thing really such a big deal? Dell and I work great together."

Fjord coughed and for a split second, Haruhi saw a light red tinge to his cheeks. "Yeah, you'd be surprised. Teenage me was not very good at following my own advice. Still isn't to this day. Damn flawed coping mechanisms."

Haruhi laughed. "Flawed coping mechanisms; that's funny. Well, alrighty. I think I got this. So don't piss anybody off and keep yourself alive. I can do that." He finally got up as one of the pillows tumbled off the couch behind him.
"See you tomorrow then, Haruhi."
"Yeah. See you tomorrow."

Zilla Odbody, 16
District 6 Female

Charles had gone off to go talk to his allies, leaving Zilla by herself. Maybe she could go find Corbyn, but she didn't really have anything important to tell him. Besides, she'd be seeing him again tomorrow in the arena.

Now that was rather morbid.

Did she hate that she was in this situation? Oh yes, more than it showed. She was beyond terrified and worried for tomorrow, because so much could go wrong is so little time. Even if, like most dire situations, it didn't show on her face.

Sometimes, that made her feel like her emotions were less valid. She didn't cry and scream like her mother or sister at the Reaping, even though it hurt her to accept this fate. She felt bad for her family, but what more could she do?

Sometimes, getting upset got nobody anywhere. Zilla wouldn't be able to think straight and rationally otherwise.

Then there was that whole interview fiasco; Zilla's mentor had made it pretty clear that she had more or less fucked up. Harsh, but she didn't get the point. Zilla had been asked about her opinion of the Capitol and she provided one. Ask a stupid question, get a stupid answer. What exactly was she supposed to do? Lie through her teeth?

"Consider yourself very lucky if you stay alive for the next 24 hours, girl," her stylist had told her when helping her get changed out of her interview outfit. "Because you just made some really powerful enemies with those words."

Yeah, that didn't help.

A door slammed and Zilla glanced up to see Charles pull off his suit jacket and run a hand through his sweaty hair, messing it all up. "Oh. Hey Zilla."
"Hello Charles."
"You don't want to chat with your ally?"

"I have nothing to say to him that can't be said another time." Zilla sat back down on the couch, hands holding across her lap. Charles was pretty nice, although he was often off doing his own thing while she did hers. That being said, she had picked up a few poison dart tips from him and hopefully his allies would leave her alone come the arena.

But if it really came down to it, she'd easily leave him hanging to save her own skin. Cold and harsh, but a necessary evil. She already knew that for her to win, she'd have to let him and everyone else die. And she wanted that victory, not for the title but for the prize of actually surviving and going back home. That was just the way the Games went, despite how disgusting of a truth it was.

Could she kill him herself? On purpose? Ah...well...she'd cross that bridge if she ever stumbled upon it. That was a question for another time.

"What did you and your allies talk about?"
Charles shrugged. "It's not that important. Why?"
"I'm just attempting small talk."

"I see. Is it fair that I don't really want to share?"
"I suppose so."

Charles raised an eyebrow. Very expressive, Zilla thought. She could probably do that, but it just looked very silly and would accomplish nothing. She plucked some lint off of her light grey pyjama shirt, finally glad to be out of that tight skirt and stupid frilly blouse. Ugh. Formal clothing was just so impractical. What was even the point?

Her district partner just nodded towards her. "I'm gonna go to sleep. Goodnight Zilla." His voice was slightly shakier than normal.
Zilla didn't respond and just watched him go. Eventually, she got up as well.

She didn't really like her bedroom; it lacked the familiarity of home. The bed was just too soft and too big. It practically swallowed her whole. She missed the firmness of her mattress back in 6, the occasional dust in the air when she'd wake up to find Koia next to her, back when the girls actually seemed to get along.

Did Koia miss her?

Did she want her big sister back?

Would she even refer to Zilla as her sister, or just as a robot, too numb to comprehend everything and everyone else?

Zilla just lay still, listening to her soft breathing, the creaking of the floorboards and the distant noises that penetrated through the glass of her window. A small tear slipped out of her eye and rolled down the side of her face before leaving behind a tiny stain on the pillowcase.

Angst time owo

I thought I had addressed sponsoring prior to this, but I guess not so I'll do it here. Yes, there is sponsoring open for this story, both for submitters and readers who have no tribute. I don't have a very rigid system, but come the arena, you're allowed to send a maximum of two gifts per chapter through PM or DM on Discord. Each gift can only be sent to one tribute and depending on what you send, it may count as multiple gifts if it's either a really big item, or something that is extremely valuable and might end up turning the tides of the arena. Sponsoring will open in two chapters, after the Bloodbath.

We have one more chapter after this before the big day finally arrives! So if you haven't sent your check-ins yet, please get them to me soon! The check-in questions can be found in Chapter 15 and Chapter 22.

See you all next chapter!

-Vr