Day 3:

Amelia Williams, 13
District 5 Female

Did she regret what she did?

Amelia didn't know. She couldn't even sleep, getting up while it was still dark and watching the stars drift over her head. That was probably gonna come back round to bite her in the ass, but she didn't care. Honestly, it was amazed she stayed asleep for as long as she did.

Because how could she rest easy knowing she had killed someone?

It had been surprisingly easy.

Too easy.

The Sun was slowly coming up, bringing light to the arena and marking the start of a new days. She hadn't even been in the arena that long, and she was tired of looking at the sunrise. In 5, where factories were squished side by side on each street and the air was constantly layered with fog, watching the Sun would've been a beautiful treat. Not so much here.

Did she miss home?

Amelia had been way too busy lately to think about that. Busy surviving, washing literal and metaphorical blood from her hands. Home was a distant memory in the back of her head, something she had yet to properly entertain. Maybe she did miss her mother and brother...

She wondered if she had freaked them out. Then she decided that winning the Games was her biggest priority, not worrying about her reputation. She had no time left to care. After all, heroes don't win the Hunger Games. Stryker was never gonna get anywhere by being the altruistic saint ey were.

You had to lie, betray, backstab, cheat, and steal to make it anywhere in this God forsaken game.

Okay, maybe that was a bit of an exaggeration, because she hadn't really done any of those things yet. Hell, she had no clue why that cliche popped into her head, because she wasn't a drama queen in the slightest. Plus, the people watching her every move couldn't hear her thoughts anyways.

After a quick bathroom break and breakfast, she was now ready to move.

Amelia was not afraid of heights, but she hated these rickety bridges so much. If they tipped too far to one side, she could easily plummet to her death. That almost happened already and it was a scary feeling. She was perfectly fine never repeating that again.

Think about it Amelia. Why are you still alive? Who saved you?

"Oh, for crying out loud. Can it, me. I'm not going insane three days in."

You said it.

Shit, she should've taken her medication with her. She didn't have any. Fuck, fuck, fuck...what was gonna happen now? Did she need it? Did she really need it because a doctor said so? Just to make him feel like he did something to help her?

Okay...she'd manage for now. It wasn't going to kill her. That was all she could do anyways.

The stone islands would be so easy to slip right off of, so Amelia was praying the Gamemakers held off on the rain. Especially in these skimpy clothes. Actually, rain would be most welcome, because she wouldn't be able to find more water otherwise. So, a little drizzle or downpour was fine. As long as it didn't kill her.

Amelia remembered being about seven or eight years old, and the bright and sunny day that should've made a little girl like her happy. She had come home an emotional mess, after the stuck-up girls at school laughed at her, pulled her hair, spit on her, then kicked her and her bookbag into a pit of mud.

Claire gasped and dropped everything she was doing. Amelia didn't remembered if it had been important or not because all Claire seemed to care about was making sure her daughter was okay. She helped Amelia out of her dirty clothes and drew her a warm bubble bath. She pushed a rubber ducky around in the soapy water to get Amelia to cheer up. Then, once Amelia was tucked into bed, Claire sang to her a very old song that you weren't allowed to mention, because it contained references to a mythical figure of higher authority than the President and a country that no longer existed.

She's a good girl, loves her mama. Loves Jesus, and America too.

She had a soft spot for that song. Amelia didn't sing, but she still knew all the words by heart. About free falling into nothing. How ironic. She never knew what the lyrical nonsense was about anyways.

And Amelia definitely wasn't no good girl now, huh Mom?

It was funny how the arena truly changed people.

Claodis Omicron, 16
District 8 Female

"Is it true that if we stay up here for too long, we'll run out of oxygen and slowly suffocate?"
"What the fuck, Claodis."
"Wellllll?"

Twill shrugged. "Probably not, because then you and I would both be dead by now. Nobody can go days without oxygen."
"Oh yeah."
"And if you ask me, I don't think we're that high...never mind."

"What was that?"
"Nothing that I think we should be talking about."

"Oh." Claodis didn't see the problem. He was gonna say something about the arena and it wasn't like the Gamemakers would kill either of them for that. They clearly were no rebels. just a pair of district partners trying to have as good of a time as possible.

"You mind if we take a quick break?" Twill shifted from foot to foot awkwardly. "I need to take a leak."
"Wait does that...oh. Yeah sure, I need to rest anyways." Claodis gave him a thumbs up.

After happily letting their gear sit on the ground, Twill handed Claodis one of their two daggers. "Here. Just in case we get ambushed, I want you to protect yourself, alright?"
"Oh, okay."

After a few minutes of nothing happening, the two of them sat cross-legged across from each other. They passed around a pack of dried tuna and some canteens of water. Claodis chewed slowly, a tactic she always used to savour her food for longer and feel more full.

Beep.

Twill jumped. "What was that?"
Claodis glanced up, where some silver parachutes slowly glided down towards them. "Twill, I think we got a sponsor gift!"
"Wait, really?"

Before the gifts could land on the ground, Claodis had already caught them. She opened them up to reveal two tubs of orange ice cream, each with two spoons attached. One appeared to be cheese-flavoured while the other was mango-flavoured. There was a note included on top of the mango ice cream. Claodis plucked it off and read it out loud.

"Have a treat. And stay safe. From Sliver."

Twill examined the ice cream. "Well, can't say I was expecting that. But...cheese flavour?"
"Does it taste like cheese?"
"Why don't you try it then?"

Claodis opened the tub and used one of the spoons to dig a small bit of ice cream out. She licked her lips. "Wow...it's...it's really good!"
"Huh. Seriously?"
"Yeah! It's nice and a cold and kind of salty. But in a good way."

They switched flavours and Claodis had to admit, as much as she liked the mango, it was pretty hard to top the cheese ice cream. She giggled as Twill made a face. "Oh wow, that is just...I mean, it's okay, but I can't get past the cheese part, sorry. Ow! Ow, ow, ow..."
"What? What happened?"
"Brain freeze. Owwww."

Claodis let out a small cackle.

Twill rubbed at his temples and blinked a few times. "Oof! Okay, okay, okay. I'm good now. I'm good."
"Feel better?"
"A little. I think I'm done with the ice cream, though."

"Me too." Claodis laughed as she licked off their spoon. But it was time to get moving. She was starting to feel a little discouraged by how flat and barren the arena was, but she supposed eventually, their hard work would pay off. And she wasn't alone. That was important.

She may have been forced to leave all her friends behind, but she had Twill beside her and she was grateful for it.

"Hey Twill, you think our ice cream will melt?"
"Dear God, I hope not."
"Oh?"

Twill made a face. "Then it's gonna leak into our bags and make a big mess."
"We ate enough of it, so it really shouldn't happen."
"True."

Beep.

"Again?" Twill stared up at the sky as a bigger gift slowly floated down. It took two parachutes to carry the giant ice cream sundae and set it in front of the two tributes. Claodis didn't know whether to laugh or vomit; it looked so appetizing, but she just ate her fair share of ice cream for the today.

Plus, it was starting to melt.

Veles Dragomir, 17
District 7 Male

He hadn't gotten any sleep in almost 24 hours.

The emptiness of the arena was taunting him, filling his dreams with nightmares. Closing his eyes brought them flooding back in a sea of terror. He didn't feel strong enough to fight back, but he didn't want to just lie there.

So, despite his clear exhaustion, he shouldered on.

His steps were heavy. His arms, limp. His eyes, tired. Everything drained him of all his energy. But Veles was not a quitter. He was not going to give up, just because it felt much too difficult to deal with everything going on around him.

He had to remember the Perun and Harrion were at home, probably hiding from the Peacekeepers and egging him on. Shit, Veles couldn't believe he actually left them in that situation. By the Reaping, 7 had been a little more relaxed, but he had no doubt that the Capitol had done a background check on him and they probably wouldn't be too impressed.

For fuck's sake. How was being here accomplishing anything? He was no closer to solving his sister's murder than he was a week ago. He had been pursuing the crime for two years and he was likely doomed to die here, leaving the mystery unsolved.

"I know," Veles said to nobody in particular. "I know. But I just can't focus on it right now."

The clouds around him reminded him of the sheep he'd see on TV, because there weren't any in District 7. Too bad counting sheep never made Veles tired. Now, if he had to name all the shit he'd deal with in a single day...that would put him to bed faster than he could say "goodnight."

His hands were wrinkled and sweaty. There was dried blood caked under his nails and on top that he had forgotten to scrub off. Like a blood manicure of sorts, not that he kenw what one felt like. Yeah, he didn't really have to slam that kid's head so hard against the ground, did he? But he did. Veles didn't feel anything about it. He had killed before. It got easier, physically, and that was about it.

Veles still had some sense of morality and honour, after all. He wasn't like others in his social circle, one who got some sort of sick and twisted joy out of all this dirty work they did just for fun. Yes, murder was dirty. A necessary evil in the Games? Oh, for sure. It was inevitable.

At least it happened quick. The poor kid didn't have to suffer.

Veles stood at the edge of the flat and barren stone island and peered over it into the abyss. Where did the sky end and air meet the ground? How far would he have to fall, if he did? Or maybe, he'd be dead before he even touched whatever lay beneath the floating arena. It didn't sound like a very peaceful way to go, full of tormented last moments, fearing an inevitable collision with nothing.

He tugged at the poncho he had been sponsored a few days ago. So far, it hadn't rained, but a little extra clothing could help. He definitely wouldn't complain about that. Plus, he had an extra pair of sandals in his bag, which would certainly come in handy. Though his current ones were still holding up fine.

Now would be a good time for a quick water break.

And he had so much water. But hey, you wouldn't hear Veles complain. After all, the human body could only live so long without water afterwards. Like maybe...three days? Four? Somebody had explained it to him once and he was too exhausted to remember correctly.

The water was no longer cold anymore, but damn, it felt so refreshing, especially given how dry and parched his throat was. Veles had to pace himself, as he took a large gulp of water and nearly coughed it all out back out when it went down the wrong way. He wiped the drops from his lips.

He shoved the water back into his bag, along with his other three full canteens, a box of matches, some bandages...and a stuffed fox. He wasn't sure why he had been sponsored it. He was 17 years old, for crying out loud, not a little kid. He didn't need a stuffed animal to cuddle with at night.

Capitolites. Always sending dumb gifts for shits and giggles. Maybe he could give the fox to Perun once he got out of here.

Hopefully, it wouldn't be too hard. Or, harder than it was already. Tributes were dropping like flies, and Veles didn't even have to do anything about it. They were all just that eager to off each other. Morbid, but Veles wasn't here to make friends with the other tributes and scold them for acting too naughty. They wanted to set a kill record? Fine. Less enemies in his way.

There had to be a catch though. He didn't trust the Gamemakers to let him coast on by. Veles had been pretty lucky to avoid running into any tributes so far, but that kind of luck just couldn't last forever. Eventually, there'd be a conflict, a fight. The real luck if it was a single tribute, someone Veles could cleanly take down without causing the tribute too much suffering. It he came across an alliance, he'd be screwed and he knew it.

But for now?

Who knew?

It was silent and peaceful. He'd take it over fighting for his life any day.

He'd still keep himself alert and on guard, just in case. Veles wanted to rest, but that was much too risky. If he were really stubborn about it, he'd tell the world at the top of his lungs that he would rest once he was dead. Literally.

Current Alliances:

The Careers: Elise, Bellona

How Do We Bounce Back From Here? Darra, Weller

Team Sugar Buzz: Twill, Claodis

The Other Duo: Zilla, Red

Villains Always Have More Fun: Amelia

A Blood Manicure Sounds Pretty Metal Tho: Veles

Doing Acacia Things: Acacia

Doing Stravos Things: Stravos

Can You Tell Vr Ran Out Of Creative Titles: Clair

Kills:

Stravos: 2 (Hrauhi, Lily)

Toren: 2 (Charles, Argen)

Bellona: 1 (Corbyn)

Amelia: 1 (Stryker)

Veles: 1 (Cleveland)

Weller: 2 (Toren, Adella)

Stryker: 1 (Astrid)

A bit of a chill chapter, with no deaths yet. Hey look, I figure the tributes could use a break or something before I start slaughtering them all again.

Not much to add except sponsoring! Yep, don't be afraid to have fun with your gifts.

See you all next chapter,

-Vr