Day 5:

Clair Ivory, 17
District 12 Female

Clair didn't sleep well at all last night.

They fucking hated those cannons. Not like loud noises made them skittish or anything, but God. They could be next! How were they supposed to feel about that!? Why couldn't the Gamemakers do something nicer for the fallen tributes, like stop all the action and bloodshed for a proper mourning period? Where was the humanity? The dignity? The respect?

Ha, fat chance at getting any of that. Clair would be lucky if they even got a coffin back in 12.

Now back to being their district's only hope and...well...not exactly doing a good job of it.

How the hell had it only been five days? Yes, five days, not even a week. To Clair, it felt like an eternity. When you spent hours on guard, the smallest of seconds could easily be stretched into a lifetime fuelled by paranoia. Praying for the sensation to pass over, so they could actually fucking sleep at night.

The first order of the day? Find food. If they didn't eat today, they were screwed.

Clair knew what it was like to go hungry. It was a terrible feeling, one they absolutely hated and couldn't bring themself to wish upon their worst enemy. But in 12, there was always scraps to steal, or people to beg from. Here, they were the only person watching their back. Nobody would be dumb enough to share supplies with them, assuming nobody's first response was to throw a weapon at them or something.

At least if they were dead, they wouldn't starve. But then again, dead. Hardly an improvement.

They barely had enough energy to get up and look for any food, should there somehow be something edible lying about.

Times like these, Clair felt completely alone.

Like, alone alone. With a pit in their already aching stomach, realizing they truly had no shoulders to lean on, nobody to comfort them whenever they were feeling down. Before, the word "alone" was just nestled in the back of their head. Like, Clair recognized they lived a life of solitude but they never delved any deeper into that depressing thought. They knew they could do everything for themself, so why did it hurt so much? Why did they sometimes feel like curling up and crying?

They missed their parents so much. Parents would clearly didn't miss them back.

Hope could anybody cope with that?

"F-food?" Clair gasped; the word felt like ash in their parched and dry throat. They could feel their hands tremble as they raised their water to their lips and took a long sip, nearly choking as the water almost went down the wrong way. "Food? Please? J-just...something..."

They had to appeal to a sponsor somehow. But by doing what? Lying on their side wasn't enough. But holy shit, were they in no position to take anybody on. Fuck, fuck, fuck! What now? They wanted to straight up yank their hair out, but they didn't have the energy for that. Plus, at this rate, their hair probably wouldn't even grow back.

"S-someone? I just...just need s-some food..."

Beep.

A sponsor.

Clair had to crane their neck to watch the silver parachute, almost blending in with the clouds and the sky, drift towards them. A lumpy package hung from its strings. They let the package reach the ground, then slowly began to unwrap. There had to be something good inside, but they didn't want to get their hopes too high, just in case. Realistic expectations were a good key to survival.

But in their current state, it was hard not to be excited over a lump of bread.

Finally.

It was still warm as Clair tore off a chunk and nearly burned the roof of their mouth. But the bread had been cooked to perfection. A crackly crust, but very soft and chewy on the inside. A simple meal, but holy shit did it taste like literal heaven.

They had to peace themself, though. They were extremely careful to chew their food up, just because it would make it last longer and they'd feel more full as a result. Honestly, they were just glad to finally have something to eat. They had been so worried about today potentially being their last...

But now they could keep going forward.

To what? Yeah, Clair had no idea what would await them next. With so much open space, one would think they'd be able to spot anything, or anyone, coming their way. It was like they were practically waiting for a sign at this point.

Yeah...they didn't think the bread had been it.

But it was a start? Clair was not a naturally positive person. Things had gone south for them so much that it was near impossible to have hope. But they were still alive, after all these years, so they were living right. Somehow, they stumbled in all the proper directions.

Heh. Imagine that. They could just bumblefuck their way out of the arena if they really tried.

"Realistic expectations," Clair grumbled. Why the hell did they say that out loud; now all of Panem was going to think they lost it. "No way in hell that will ever happen."

Veles Dragomir, 17
District 7 Male

The sponsors seemed to really like him. Good.

The ready-to-eat meal he had received was a welcome change of pace. Veles slurped up the pasta, as careful as possibly to avoid sending sauce flying everywhere. The sausage inside was great too; finally, some meat that wasn't dried up and designed for storage.

It was amazing how a good meal could really boost his spirits. He felt a bit better now. Able to concentrate and think about his next plan of action. And about how he still had a fighting chance left after all.

He had made it to the halfway mark. And...well...whatever. What was he supposed to do about that? It wasn't over until it was over and there were still plenty of other kids standing in his way. No time for half-assed celebrations.

Veles finished the last of his meal, the tin sitting idly in his hands. Eventually, he just tossed it to the side. Time to get a move on.

He had to pack up all the sponsor gifts too; Veles had discarded the parachutes because they were way too tiny to be of any use to him. The rest of the stuff wasn't. A rain poncho, which provided him a little extra bit of warmth. A first aid kit, which was always appreciated.

He took his sweet time moving, constantly looking over his shoulder...just in case. There was no hurry to get anywhere and it wouldn't hurt him to be extra careful. He was used to it, after all. Peacekeepers, despite their blinding white uniforms, could easily catch him off guard if he wasn't paying attention.

Thankfully, the attentiveness paid off when he spotted someone coming towards him.

The tribute jumped when they saw him, turning to run in the opposite direction. Veles didn't even hesitate. He unsheathed his dagger and took off running, over the bridges, across the stone. His legs were aching, begging him to conserve his energy, but he couldn't even bring himself to give a damn. He was acting out on an instinct; he wasn't sure why, but it was telling him to catch this bitch.

The tribute's foot slipped, and they came tumbling down. It was much too easy to for Veles to casually walk on up behind them. The tribute revealed a dagger of their own, but before Veles could stab them, they blocked his blade with their own and held the dagger up to his throat. Veles did the same.

It was now a stand-off, both of them threatening to cut the other's neck into a fatal red smile.

Amelia sniffed and Veles realized that her tears had been completely fake. "Go ahead. Kill me. I'm such a weak fragile little girl, aren't I?"
Veles didn't respond.

"What's stopping you? You have me pinned. I might land a hit on you, but I'll be dead at your hands first. You'll probably be fine."
Veles dug the blade further into Amelia's skin; not enough to hurt her, only to cause some discomfort.

It worked. Amelia's eyes widened, large enough for Veles to see genuine panic in the young girl's face. Then Amelia gulped and continued.

"You slammed my ally's head into the ground. Killed him. I had to watch. He was so young too. I think we were the same age. Would you really be so mean to such a young kid?"

Veles could feel his hand shake a little. "Shut up. What's done is done and you can't change it."
"I know. But it makes me so sad. Are you gonna slaughter me too? As messily and painfully as you did to him? You'll be known as that guy. That guy who killed two innocent kids. What would your family think of you?"

Now, he was really tempted to slit her throat. But Veles's hands were shaking so much, he could only manage a small cut just below her collarbone. Amelia gasped in shock, before giving him a pleading look. Yeah, not so funny now. Was it?

"So be that villain. But I can kill you here. Once I'm dead, you'll slowly be bleeding out, because of me. No chance to redeem yourself, because in their eyes, you'll have deserved it. For doing such unspeakable things. Do you really want that?"

She was toying with him. For some reason, she thought this was an actual game. Oh, she was scared, no doubt. And no amount of words could keep him from sinking that blade even deeper into her flesh...

He noticed something cool and sharp and shiny against his chest. Right. She was just waiting for her moment. She wanted to stab him, while he couldn't. Kill him while he took the moral ground. This girl was probably more of a killer, a villain, than he realized.

So Veles stepped off her. He grabbed Amelia by the front of her shirt, able to hoist her about two or so inches off the ground. "Listen, I don't know what the hell you think you're doing, but I don't care. I want nothing to do with you. Get out of my sight."

Amelia coughed as she was dropped to the ground. She stumbled to her feet, before turning around and shooting Veles an icy glare. "You sure? You could be making a mistake."
"If you don't leave in the next five seconds, I'm going to throw this dagger into your back."

He was probably messing up by letting her get away. He didn't care. She'd be somebody else's problem now.

Twill Chintz, 16
District 8 Male

All the parents in Panem were probably cringing at the sight of Claodis and Twill finishing off their ice cream as their dinner. But holy crap, they had so much of it. It would need to go at some point, before it all melted into an unsatisfying sugary goo sitting at the bottom of their bags.

Claodis giggled, plucking a banana from the sundae. It had to be the healthiest part of the whole treat. "Twillllll, does this remind you of anything?"
"M-hm. Real mature of you, dear."

Claodis broke the banana in half. "Want some? It's fruit. Fruit is good for you."
"Sure, why not? Cheers."

Finally, all the ice cream was gone. Twill was perfectly fine with that. As a matter of fact, he didn't want to see ice cream for at least another month. Thankfully, they still had some packs of dried meat and tuna left, so it wasn't like they were completely out of food.

Claodis giggled. "That was fun, wasn't it? I like our sponsors! They can be so silly!"
"I think our sponsors are on something."
"Like what?"
"Drugs?"

Claodis made a face as Twill just shrugged. "Or maybe it's Sliver. Eight years of mentoring probably fried his brains. Come on Claodis, let's get a move on."

There was not much point in moving, but Twill wanted to keep him and Claodis from being easy pickings for any tributes nearby. In a sense, him being the older tribute meant it was his job to protect her. It was a district loyalty thing, obviously. But it was also something else. She was like him, a street kid just trying to get by.

It was going to be them, all the way up until the very end.

"How you holding up there?" He asked her. "You good? Don't need to rest or anything?"
"Nope! I feel fine."
"No sugar buzz?"

"Nu-uh! By the way, I can't believe you had like, nothing of the cheese ice cream. It was really delicious."
"It wasn't really my thing, sorry."
Claodis stuck her tongue out. "Boring. But that meant for me, so ha!"

After a couple more minutes, they stopped to do some...business. Twill snickered to himself at the banana comment earlier as he finished up, then he and Claodis pulled their canteens out to have some water. It always felt so good to relieve his parched throat.

"Hold on a sec." Claodis handed him her canteen to pack up. "I gotta fix my sandal."

Twill just nodded. He was a bit distracted by the view. The Sun was starting to set, painting the sky like a canvas. It was a beautiful and breathtaking sight, one he rarely got to appreciate in District 8 thanks to all the smog.

So he supposed he was lucky to end up with a rather stunning arena.

"Well, would you look at that. You can see the Sun set all the way down. That's lovely, isn't it?"
"Twill?"
"The sky's awfully red tonight. And pink. Not a bad colour combination-"

"Twill!"

Claodis was practically screaming his name. Twill snapped to attention and turned around to face his district partner.

And the blood dripping from her stomach where a knife had been shoved all the way through her.

Twill grabbed his sword, the one weapon he had lying unpacked, and swung it. Stravos ducked and cursed loudly, attempting to pull the knife from Claodis's back, where he had rammed it in her as hard as he could.

"Let go of her, you bastard!"
Stravos snarled, before kicking Claodis into Twill. The two of them crashed against the ground and Twill felt his own sword slice open his cheek. He struggled to get up, just in time to watch Stravos run off. He needed to catch up to that snake and give Stravos a taste of his own medicine.

But Claodis was right next to him, slowly bleeding out with a huge wound going through her body. Twill changed his mind. He didn't need revenge. She needed him right now. He had to stay here, maybe he could find a way to save her...

"Claodis! Holy shit...are you okay?"

Claodis coughed loudly, a huge sticky glob of blood trembling from her lips before spilling down her cheek. Twill gently cradled her in his arms. Fuck, fuck, fuck! What the hell was that!? He hadn't been paying attention for one and second and...and...

"Claodis, I am so sorry. It's my fault. I got distracted. I should've done something about it."
"It's...okay..."
"No, it's not! Fuck, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I-"

Claodis weakly raised one arm to her stomach, dabbing her fingers into her own blood. "He...coming for you...so I..."
"You mean, he wanted to kill me? And you stopped him? You gave up your life...for me..."
"...yeah..."

Claodis was still staring up at him, but the life had gone from her eyes. She had given herself up to let him have another chance. Twill felt even worse. He should've been the dead one. Now here he was, holding her body. Alone. The sky was completely dark now, and it felt like one hundred invisible weights pressing down on his back. It wasn't right. It just wasn't!

"I am so sorry..."

12th place: Claodis Omicron, District 8. Run through by Stravos.

This death genuinely hurt to write. Claodis was such a spunky little tribute, from her ventriloquism, to her upbeat attitude. Her and Twill's alliance was on of my favourites because they were just so kind to each other, with no ulterior motives. Also, they had tons of sponsors shenanigans too. Unfortunately, no happy endings for this pair and Claodis's story ends here. Thank you so much for her, Plat! She was a joy to have!

Alliances:

The Careers, I Guess: Elise, Bellona

The Other Two: Darra, Weller

The only wholesome alliance left: Zilla, Red

Loners: Stravos, Amelia, Veles, Twill, Clair

Kills:

Stravos: 3 (Haruhi, Claodis, Lily)

Toren: 2 (Charles, Argen)

Bellona: 2 (Corbyn, Acacia)

Amelia: 1 (Stryker)

Veles: 1 (Cleveland)

Darra: 1 (Gear)

Weller: 2 (Toren, Adella)

Stryker: 1 (Astrid)

A couple of tributes have some close calls with death in this chapter, and one loses their life for real. The Hunger Games are not very forgiving, folks.

As per usual, sponsoring is still open, so you can still send your gifts in! I've decided that once we reach the Final 8, everyone will only be allowed to send one gift per chapter, rather than two. So, if you want to cause some chaos, better do it soon! :3

See you all next chapter!

-Vr