Morgana Foster

District 7 Female, 18
Chariot preparation

I see Logan distancing himself from me, and I feel bad about this entire situation. I'm not a terrible person, objectively. I just… I guess I've always just wanted something more out of life. And I can't start going soft at the first opportunity these Games throw at me. He's a nice kid, but I know he'd slow me down. In the end, only one of us can win this and I need it to be me. I've trained for this since I was twelve, so by all means, I'm as much of a Career as anyone.

What I told Logan is true, I don't have anyone out there for me. No living family to grieve my actions once this hell-show gets on the road. I don't have any friends either, and that might be because I've had too much on my plate ever since I knew how to write my name, or maybe I just suck. I don't have any significant connections, and the ones I do are always fleeting in the grand scheme of things.

Sunhdit, our mentor, has been the one person that believed in my potential, and I guess it was the same for me. We were both rejects, chewed right through and spat out by a District that wanted nothing to do with us. For her, it was because she straight-up plunged off the deep end a few years after her victory, and I'm not too sure what caused it, but I never bothered to ask. For me, it was due to the fact that I was too small and too angry and too stupid to realize when to stop, when it came to breaking into households and stealing shit.

The truth of the matter is that I couldn't keep it in my pants when it came to food. I've always been obsessed with eating and food, maybe because I never had enough of it in my formative years. The starvation, the gut-destroying hunger… those are the memories that stick with me the most from the war and the awful community-home bouncing that came afterwards. Maybe it's a testament to how fucked up I truly am, but the fact of the matter is that I crave proper and reliable sustenance harder than I crave a sense of belonging, a family or glory. For me, food is the real fucking deal when it comes to getting enjoyment out of life.

It sucks and I'm pretty ashamed of it, and that's why I'm awkwardly hovering way too far from the tables loaded with plates. I should get a move on, I know that. All of the kids who come from Career districts and that one girl from District 3 are all there, so if I ever want to showcase my skills, I need to get on with the program. I need to act normal.

I see dishes I've never even dreamt of before, let alone tasted, and somehow that ratchets up my anxiety higher than this upcoming stupid chariot ride ever could. As I survey these tiny delectable fishes on crackers, sandwiches, strawberries and other tiny fruits I had no idea actually existed, there's a part of me that can't stop going back to the day when Sunhdit caught me, rummaging her fridge. I was all elbows, crooked knees and starving feral eyes when she barged in on me stealing from her house.

I remember trying to hit her, and she was so drunk and high that she let me. I dislocated my thumb because I had no idea how to punch back then, and she just laughed in my face. I cried a lot that night, because I had felt so helpless. Without even trylng, she just immobilized me there, inebriated out of her mind, and kept telling me I couldn't beat her even if I tried. Without letting go of my arms, she took me to her living room and sat down on her sofa. She started telling me a story about a child she lost that made zero sense and I don't exactly remember what happened, but she fell asleep with me pinned down awkwardly in that chair.

I don't know if it's the potential promise of food hanging in the air, or the fact that she held me like her own child in an embrace that could only be described as heartbreaking and only a little bit creepy, but I ended up staying. Her vice-like grip on my arms was also incentive enough.

When she woke up, she had a wicked hangover and I remember helping her to the bathroom as she promised to make me breakfast if I stayed with her for a little while longer. She kept calling me Aleyah. It was worth it in the end because she fed me, and asked me who I actually was. Back then, I was bouncing from orphanage to foster home to community center and so on. I kind of hung out around her place after that, when shit got tough. She didn't let me settle at her house permanently, far from it, but she didn't try to ring my neck every time I showed up, and I hollered at the Peacekeeper medics every time she overdosed or hit her head too hard when she lost track of what's up and down. I saved her ass just as many times as she saved mine. So overall, I feel like we had a pretty sweet deal going on.

When I watched the Games at the community center, I realized that's where I belonged. Even now, staring at all these other kids who are competing with me, I think it was the right decision. I asked Sunhdit to train me and she did, in the best way she could. I think she saw something in me, or maybe she just had nothing better to do. We fought a lot, but I took care of her when she got up to no good, and she offered her house as a training ground and her advice to a kid that literally had more pent up anger than anyone she knew.

It worked out, because I'm here now, right? And as far as I know, training centers in the Career districts only popped up about six or seven years ago and I'm right there with them.

I survey the area once more. When we boarded the train, Logan was so petrified he locked himself in his room before Sunhdit even had the chance to talk to him. Better for me, since I got to watch the recaps with her and hear her opinion about most of the people that are slowly trickling into this room. The District 4 tributes aren't hear yet, and neither are the District 11s and 12s. The rest are awkwardly standing around, some are making small talk and others looking extra-defensive, daring anyone to come close. I know most of the alliances are formed once we start our three days of training, so I have plenty of time to establish myself as part of the Careers, but there's no harm in setting the right foot forward at this little gathering.

But then I glance back to the food and it's so tantalizing. Who knew food could give off such sexy vibes…

The Careers are right there too, but they're all just hovering there, taking a few bite-sized snacks here and there and my stomach growls because holy shit do these people act privileged. I remind myself I'm gonna have to be part of that squad if I want to have a chance to survive this. There's no harm in making my presence known right now.

I eye the tiny pieces of bread and meat and my stomach decides this for me.

Fuck it, I'm going in, and they're gonna fucking like it.

I approach the table confidently, keeping my shoulders straight and my eyes neutral. I don't want to look too antagonistic, but I also don't want them to count me out on account of looking scared or uneasy.

It kind of feels like I'm in one of those low-tier spy movies I've watched with Sunhdit once or twice, where the hero has that zoom-and-enhance feature when a specific target appears. I could almost imagine myself walking in slow motion, eyes on the prize. My target? The crackers with little brown mysterious blobs and little decorative red and white flakes on top. I try one uncertainly, and swallow. It's fishy, but it's great.

I shove the fishy bites into my mouth, stuffing myself with this greasy amazing goodness and momentarily forget where I am. I could stay here all fucking day, and I don't even care if I burst out of these stupid pants from overeating, this experience is already worth it.

In between mouthfuls of a spread I don't even know the name of, I notice another pair of hands grabbing at the small bread squares near my left hand.

I look up, and a pair of large expressive dark brown eyes stare right back at me.

I maintain eye contact as the girl staring directly into my face comes closer. At first, it's a weird fucking game of asserting dominance and I feel deep internalized embarrassment at my sloppy lack of restraint, but I keep at it. At the orphanage, being the 'alpha' was kind of a big deal, and after training, I would be lying if I said I wasn't the alpha-est bitch in the place. I know it's different here, I'm among people who are trained killers, for fuck's sake, but still.

A few seconds pass and the awkwardness gradually goes away. The girl has a smile tugging at her lips and I can't help but smile back.

"Somehow, I never figured that the food would be the best part of this whole thing, eh?" the girl asks, mirroring exactly what I'm thinking.

"Right?" I answer, as I shove a richly stuffed bun directly into my mouth. The shame at my behavior dissipates, because I somehow feel deep down in my heart that this girl gets it. She picks out an especially delicious looking bun identical to mine in everything but color and also tastes it. Her movements are confident, easy-going and exude Career-like vibes without the crappy arrogance that often comes with, you know, being a Career.

"All of the guys are there talking and getting to know each other, but I think the real opportunists are found near the food," the girl remarks, and I find myself nodding along, chewing.

I see the other Careers politely interacting, the boy from District 1 laughing politely at something the boy from District 2 said. They're getting along nicely, I think. Yeah, I think I'm going to fit right in, if they let me.

"I'm Seeva, District 2," the girl adds, extending her right arm in a friendly manner. She laughs as I struggle to transfer the contents of my right hand into my left so I can shake her hand. My face heats up, only slightly.

"I'm Morgana, District 7," I reply. I already know her name, but it's good to, you know, introduce yourself like a real human being. I'm one hundred percent certain she knows my name and district as well, seeing as I volunteered, but I still felt the need to clarify, to add at least an ounce of normalcy to this interaction.

"So, enjoying your stay so far?" she asks, chewing with her mouth open which is decidedly something a Career who was apprehensive or threatened by my presence would never do. She seems to stay calm around an outsider like me, so I take that as a good sign.

"Yeah the food's to die for," I deadpan, and we both chuckle.

"A woman after my own heart," she says and winks at me and we laugh wholeheartedly, attracting the attention of the others momentarily.

"It's weird how my first genuine interaction is about food, of all things," she says as she passes a hand through her curly short hair.

"Yeah, if the arena's anything like the one from three years ago, I might just declare that my token is a fully-stocked fridge and bring that shit into the arena," I say, internally weirded out at how many words are pouring out of my mouth even though I've only met this person twenty seconds ago.

"You talk like an expert, no wonder you volunteered," Seeva says appraisingly, adding quickly "stocking up is a great idea, not gonna lie."

I've got pockets in my pants, I realize, and we both get the same idea. We look around and notice protein bars in packets nearby. We both reach for one bar, then two, and pull them into our costumes. She gives me a conspiratorial look and shoves some more protein bars into her cleavage, as I smuggle some packets into the large pockets of my cargo pants. We grin in synchrony like two mischievous children and look around, but no one is paying attention to us, too stressed out by the upcoming parade or too focused on appearing tough to care.

The last of the tributes enter the room, looking extra confused, and a weird electronic noise makes all of us turn our heads to the source, an old-looking intercom on the wall.

"Two minutes until showtime. I repeat two minutes until showtime," a static voice succinctly announces and most of the teenagers around me stand up straighter, eyes wide, stress levels rising, no doubt.

"Good luck on the chariots," she says, mimicking shit falling out of her pockets in an exaggerated manner. "I'll see you around!"

I laugh back, "You too!". I actually feel a lot better about all of this, going in.

While I keep my face perfectly constructed into a mask of easy-going contentment, I'm internally whooping from joy. I fucking did it! I talked to a Career and they didn't totally reject my ass right off the bat! Hell! Fucking! Yes!

A Capitolite enters the room and the tension goes up by about fifty percent as we all stare at his face expectantly. He rudely interrupts my internal congratulations of my own refined abilities of not fucking up during a social interaction, but that's just the way these things go, don't they?

"The Chariots Parade is about to begin! Please take your designated places and you will be led to your horses. Don't loiter around longer than necessary," he exclaims loudly, and we all instinctively form a line.

"This isn't school, children! Make your way to the hangar, quickly! Quickly!"

We are rushed to what could only be referred to as stables, and a crazy-looking woman with a huge number seven plastered on her front comes careening towards me. She already has Logan by the arm, and she grabs hold of mine and drags me to a carriage.

Our horses are a deep beautiful chestnut color and I marvel at the sight.

"Wow, these are majestic," Logan mutters under his breath and smiles as I look at him. He's really a nice kid.

"The horses look better than we do," I mutter, and Logan nods at me all while smiling and once again, I get a pang of guilt at rejecting him earlier.

"Hey, you gonna be okay?" I ask him.

"Yeah, I think we just need to hold onto the railing, and we won't fall off," he starts, talking about the Chariot Parade. That's not at all what I'm talking about.

"No, I mean like, in the Games. Did you talk to anyone in there?" I prod, aware of the fact that it's approximately none of my business whatsoever.

"Yeah don't worry about it, I'll be fine," he says smiling lightly, and I see his eyes flicker to the District 9 boy. Geoff. He volunteered too, even though he's younger than me. Older than Logan.

I assess him as a fairly decent competitor and nod in approval, even though Logan didn't confirm or deny his interaction with the boy.

I turn around, and see Seeva smile brightly at me all the way from the front. Her district partner, Luther narrows his eyes at me, but also smiles and waves in what could only be described as the most psychopathic handwave of all time. There's even the classic slow blink as the cherry on the cake. He's probably a chill guy.

Logan notices immediately, this guy is way too observant for his own good, and claps me lightly on the back. I struggle to not flinch away from the unwanted physical contact.

"I see you're making progress already," he says conversationally, and I'm simultaneously pissed off that I'm so transparent, proud that my plan is clearly working if others are noticing and guilty that I'm not including the one person who is the closest to me in the arena in this plan.

"Yeah," I reply helpfully, and he clearly sees this as a sign to drop the matter.

"Even though you're not allying with me, it doesn't mean we have to look like scary uncommunicating cardboard cut-outs, when we roll out for all of the Capitol to see," he remarks, and I nod along.

"Even though our costumes look like crap, I'm sure we'll dazzle them with our natural looks."

He giggles, looking so young and innocent in that moment.

"Now I'm really regretting not eating on the train and back there in that room. The worst thing about being reaped is the social anxiety that comes along," he mutters under his breath as he pales when he hears the roar of the crowd somewhere above us.

"Hey, I signed up for this crap and I'm still shitting myself when it comes to human interaction," I reply eloquently, because sometimes there's nothing like colorful language to really drive the point home. I'm fucking awkward, is the point, and I think he sees that, but he's hungry and I came prepared.

I pull out a protein bar out of my pocket, and his eyes light up when I offer it to him.

"I got more where that came from, so if you ever need a snack mid-parade, let me know," I tell him, as he scarfs it down.

"You tell anyone about my secret infinite stash of food in these miracle pants and I swear I'll kill you," I deadpan, but the transparent fear in his eyes makes me specify that I'm just kidding. Tough crowd.

I clap him on the shoulder, giving him a reassuring smile and he loosens up a little bit, smiling at me once again.

"You ready for this?"

"Born ready," I answer but I mimic falling off the cart, reminding myself of Seeva's own clowning gestures during our previous conversation.

"Ladies and gentlemen, please give a warm welcome to the tributes of the thirteenth Hunger Gaaaaaames!"

Our chariot starts moving right after the District 6 chariot, pulled by white horses. Both tributes look terrified, the girl scratching compulsively at her arms and wildly gnashing her jaws out of fear. Another volunteer, Daisy. She didn't look good at the reaping, and she looks almost worse now. The boy, although I only see the back of his head, seems to radiate that specific energy that comes with being completely resigned to one's fate.

It only takes a few seconds for us to reach the lip of the stables, leading us to the huge Parade track above.

The noise is deafening, and the lights burn my retinas, leaving me momentarily blinded, but I wave, trying to appear strong and resolute. That's the angle I'm going for.

I acknowledge Logan, who is playing a goofier, funnier and more excited character, and I'm glad he's got his trope figured out.

While I knew exactly what I was signing up for, after years of training, the full experience hits me in the face as we race on the track, for all of Panem to see.

Even though I'll do my very best to sway the outcome in my favor, no matter what happens, this is going to be one hell of a ride.

Notes: You guys, here's Morgana, the beautiful strong and reliably cringe-lady from District 7! Let me know what you think of this gal, because I love her dearly. Also, can we all give a round of applause to yours truly, who has been writing these chapters at the speed of light? Hell yes, I'm proud of myself for this tiny achievement. I'm just joking…I just hope you all are enjoying the chapters so far and I've got lots of cool stuff planned out for the future chapters.

Let me know your thoughts, and next up, the parade will be in full swing with Jean from District 8. If I don't get eaten by sharks in the ocean of the East Coast that is...dun dun dun.

Peace and love.