Bellmore Sergeyevich, 37

Capitol Activist, Fashion Designer


It was hard enough for Bellmore to get her model to stand still without the quarreling happening in the background that urged her to stick a pin into the girl she was fitting and join in on the conversation, taking place just a few feet away from her.

'Sorry, dear, but could you try to stand as still as possible so that I don't prick your pretty skin by accident?' Bell smiles venomously at Merope.

'It isn't my problem you're taking so long, is it?' Merope's lips shrivel a little as she stares Bellmore up and down in a rather condescending manner. Bell has grown to despise the models of the modern age. She recalls how during her youth, when she was at the peak of success, the young models would cower at the sight of her or at the sight of any titan in the fashion world for that matter. Back then, making a name for yourself as a designer was a big thing. You were considered to be at the top of the food chain. But as time passed more and more cover shoot girls with their big, bubbly eyes and their bony arms attracted the attention of the press, while the actual talent behind the impeccably crafted dresses was abandoned in a dusty, cobweb-covered corner

Bellmore doesn't bother responding; it's no use anyway. As Bellmore continues to tighten Merope's dress around the waist, taking slight pleasure whenever she'd hear the model wince, she overhears a word that immediately catches her attention.

The Essence.

Bell tries to tune into the conversation but between the sowing machines in the background and the other chatter going on around her, it's nearly impossible to make out what is being said over there.

'I'll be right back.' Bell removes her hands from Merope's glittery body.

'What the hell are you doing?' Once again Bellmore pretends not to have heard the girl, instead, joining in on the little talk that caught her attention.

'Bell! What a delight!' Tamith shouts out. 'We were just talking about this year's Games.'

'Oh, were you?' Bell enjoys letting other people guide her into the discussion. She doesn't want to seem too brash so she'll just let the two of them give her the information she needs.

'Yeah, Tamith over here is in love with the quell twist no matter how much I try to convince them that it simply isn't a good idea.' Jurius rolls his eyes, patting Tamith on the back.

'Don't be like that, Jurius. Just because some of us like to have fun doesn't mean you have to cover all of us in your grey, rainy cloud.' Tamith moves away from Jurius, turning to Bell and raising their eyebrows like they'd forgotten she was there in the first place. 'What do you think?'

'I think it's a horrible idea.' Well, that might have come out a little more blunt than she intended it to.

'Thank you!' Jurius calls.

'Wow, Bell, I didn't think you were going to be like one of them…' That sentence lit a fire under Bellmore's ass. She was about to unleash the phoenix on them.

'What exactly do you mean 'like one of them'? You mean like the only rational people in this insane fucking country?' Her face goes red.

'Oh, please. Since when are any of us rational here? Don't lie to me. Actually, don't lie to yourself, pretending like you're above us all.'

'It's not about being above anyone here, Tamith, but giving these children, who have been taught to hate us ever since they tumbled out of their mother's womb, lethal abilities is basically sealing our own demise.' Bellmore considers retreating back to her model. Knowing Tamith they won't go down so easily, however, before he gets the chance to fight back, another voice chimes in.

'Guys, I'm pretty sure the government has the situation under control. I mean, they're not going to put us in danger so I don't see the harm in exploring new innovations,' Valouria squeezes herself in between Jurius and Bell, dragging her silky, beige scarf behind her. The thick and repulsive smell of orchids takes over the space.

Jurius scoffs. 'And what comes afterward? Let's say everything works out just fine, do you really think the government is just going to drop a powerful weapon like the essence as if it ceased to exist in the first place?' Valouria raises her finger, ready to interject but the words fail to escape her mouth. 'Yeah I didn't think so,' Jurius says confidently.

'Alright, let's stop this!' Surprisingly enough Tamith is the one to halt the conflict. Bellmore would have never guessed. 'Personally, I'm just excited for a bombastic Quell and I bet all of you are as well. So let's worry about the logistics and the details later. What do you guys say?' Tamith scans his audience for approval. Jurius and Valouria make eye contact and shrug.

'You know what? You're right. This is going to be a fun year,' Jurius gives in. Oh how Capitol-like, living in pure, blissful ignorance and setting aside all worries to be 'looked at later.'

But Bellmore isn't like them. She's already crafted a plan together with none other than Anargi Fontana herself and if things go as planned there won't be a need to worry about things 'when the time comes' since this year's Games won't even be taking place...


Anargi Fontana, 31

Council Member


Her hands are trembling and she can't get them to stop. She tries to clench her fists but the tension just causes her limbs to shake even more frantically. This is so unlike her. The blood pulsating through her arteries, the adrenaline spreading through every fiber of her body, the empty void that grows and grows in the core of her abdomen; it's all becoming a little too unbearable.

'Mrs. Fontana, we're ready.' Anargi snaps out of her trans, turning her attention towards the head peacekeeper, wearing a pitch-black armor suit with a rouge cape-like structure attached to his back, covering his right shoulder.

Anargi sucks in as much air as she can and exhales it with one extensive puff. 'Let's head on in.' The head peacekeeper signs for his fellow men and women to break open the glass gate. Aside from the Head Gamemaker himself and the mentors, only avoxes and people involved in the administrative business of the Hunger Games are allowed access into the training halls. But Anargi doesn't have time to be stealthy.

As the thick glass shatters, sprawling elegantly across the smooth floor of the training center, all eyes are on her. And yet none of the tributes seem to be reacting; none of them try to make a run for it, not even the girl from Five who had previously attempted to escape. It just makes it so much harder for Anargi to commit to the plan.

She'll have to pull herself together and make the necessary decisions to ensure the wellbeing of her country otherwise she'll never be able to take her father's place as President of Panem. 'Get them,' she says.

On command, the peacekeepers swarm out. Only then does the first tribute react. The girl from Twelve surrounds herself in a ring of fire, her eyes glowing like embers. This is what her sick brother did to them. He's turned them into monsters.

One by one the peacekeepers shackle the tributes, sending shock waves soring through their bodies and bringing them to their knees in screams of relentless agony. Some try to run but it's no use; the peacekeepers will always be faster. Everyone has been asked to evacuate so that they can confine the tributes in one big space.

The only tribute remaining, the girl from Twelve, spews fire from her hands at one of the troopers, causing his suit to melt and stick to his burned flesh. The peacekeeper squeals in his own bloody mess but there's nothing any of them can do about it now. The girl takes a few steps back, her jaw wide open in shock.

'Now!' the head peacekeeper shouts. One of his men puts the collar around her neck and presses the electrocution button, filling the air with another series of painful screams.

Once all the children are put into one row, facing Anargi, she begins to speak. 'What is about to happen has nothing to do with any of you.' She tries to keep her voice as solid as steel. 'None of you are at fault here, I promise you.' her voice starts to shake a bit but she bites the inside of her lip, pushing the emotions down under. 'I… we have come to the conclusion that this year's Games will not be taking place.'

The tributes look at each other in surprise. Anargi catches a few smiles coming from the younger ones who seem excited over the news. 'So does this mean we get to go a home?!' the boy from Nine asks hopefully, unable to hide his glee.

Anargi shuts her eyes. The tears mustn't begin to flow. She shakes her head slowly. 'As always we will be faithful to the system. Twenty-three of you will die as a result of your rebellion.' Silence befalls the training center. Anargi doesn't dare to look at the younger children whose hope has just been robbed mercilessly.

'And in order to decide who gets to live, we have installed a random name generator. The name left on the screen after the shuffling will be the lucky tribute whose life is spared. Again, I am sorry that this is the way things are but for the common good of our society, we politely ask you to accept this decision with gracefulness and dignity. Your sacrifice will not be forgotten because-'

'Are you seriously trying to make us feel better right now?' the girl from Nine interrupts.

'Watch it, brat,' the peacekeeper behind her says firmly.

'This is some real bullshit!' one of the careers raises his voice. 'This isn't what I fucking signed up for!' he gets to his feet but with a simple press of a button a synchrony of screeches is conducted.

'Please, do not resist. It just makes it harder.' Anargi buttons up her rosy coat, walking over to the head peacekeeper who hands her a tablet. 'Your deaths will be quick and painless, I promise.' Anargi brushes her hair to the side, still avoiding eye contact with any of the children.

'I will now activate the name generator…' Anargi scans her index finger on the screen, activating the device. Once the name shuffling begins she turns the tablet towards the tributes and waits nervously. She can feel her hands start to shake again. Everyone always told her she's too emotional, including her father. But Himeko thought the opposite. Himeko always told Anargi that she can be far too cold. So which one is it?

The shifting names on the screen begin to slow down until only one name remains…

Alpha Mail

The boy from Three gets up from his knees, covering his mouth with both of his hands. 'I made it… I-I won!' he laughs, completely disregarding the other children who are about to face death. The rest of them stay silent. Anargi catches a bit of sniffing and swallowing here and there but no one dares to speak. Well, except for Alpha.

'I won the Hunger Games!'

'Would you shut up already?!'

The boy freezes, arms still raised, but his eyebrows sink. Anargi is taken aback by her sudden outburst. 'Get him out of the room,' she commands.

'And for the rest of you I'm sorry but this is where-'

'What the hell is going on here?!' Anargi looks back at the shattered glass gate. Her brother, together with their father, tiptoe around the glass shards. Cynthio seems oddly calm but by the looks of it he'll just hide behind their father's wrath and watch everything unfold the way he always likes to do. Pathetic.

'Father, please do not get involved.'

'What do you mean I shouldn't get involved? Are you completely out of your mind?'

'I-'

'Escort her away from here!' And just like that all of Anargi's peacekeepers turn on her, abandoning their initial plan.

'I'm so sorry about all of this.' she catches Cynthio tell the tributes before they whisk her away from the training center.


Professor Myriad Dane, 58

Head of the Panemian Scientific Institute


14:33 pm

'You should have seen the look on her face, Myriad! It was priceless!' Cynthio chants away in his fitted lab coat. Apparently Anargi Fontana's status as council member had just been taken away from her. Word barely got around and yet everyone's talking about it, even the news.

'I bet it was,' Myriad agrees. The fact is, he doesn't really care. Sure, the quarreling of the Fontana siblings is entertaining from time to time. It's not like the whole country isn't following their unspoken competition and taking sides. But, in the end, Myriad needs to make sure that his co-worker is in it for the right reasons.

'But let us focus on what's important, Myriad, we shouldn't get off track.' Cynthio tells him as if he'd been the one singing his song of victory. 'Update me on the new subjects.'

'Of course.' Myriad leads Cynthio into one of the observatories, the latter making himself comfortable on the lounge chair, crossing his legs.

'Test subject B-725, correct?' Cynthio asks. 'She's the one with the dissociative identity disorder who murdered a bunch of people.' Cynthio takes a sip from his lukewarm coffee.

'Exactly, subject B-725, also known as Lystra Hollows was convicted of mass murder at the Palmavera Mall after butchering thirty-two individuals with a machete.' Myriad types away at his computer, checking for any new uploaded data. 'And it seems like not much has changed…'

'What do you mean?' Cynthio sets down his coffee, leaning against Myriad's desk.

'Her ability still involves some sort of telekinesis but we're still unsure of how it works. The subject doesn't fully have control of her powers yet so-'

'Fill her up with more essence,' Cynthio says.

'But… are you sure. If something goes wrong and the president finds out that we've gone behind his back then-'

'Listen, Myriad, I have something to prove. We need to master the essence. We need to make it more efficient. I didn't come here to play games. If things end up working out, we can use the essence not only for Quarter Quells but for regular Games as well. Just think about how many more people will start to invest in the Games… and think about the fame and glory.' Cynthio gives Myriad a wink.

'I suppose you're right…'

23:56 pm

Myriad slides his special access key across the scanner, opening the gate that leads to the underground floor. Only he has access to this area and he likes to consider it his special haven where he can escape whenever things are getting a little too much for him.

But today he's meeting someone very special.

'Inez, glad you made it!' The council member gets up from the chair and shakes Myriad's hand. 'And I see you've brought them just as we agreed.' Behind Inez stand twenty men and women, waiting patiently to be told what to do.

'Of course, twenty prisoners, just as you asked.' Myriad gives her a certain look and Inez understands immediately. 'And don't worry, they're all sane and eager to take part, am I right?' she looks back at her little troop.

'Yes, ma'am,' they all say together rather ghoulishly.

'You know, Myriad, I always took you for a weakling, hiding behind Cynthio's shadow but boy was I wrong.' Inez laughs. 'You've got so much more packed into that aged body of yours.' Myriad considers pointing out that he is in fact younger than her but decides to drop it since pointless bickering won't get them anywhere.

'You see the thing is, and I think we can both agree, Cynthio isn't thinking big enough.' Inez nods. 'He's so focused on his pride and sucking up to his father that he doesn't even understand the limitlessness of my invention.' Myriad corrects his tie.

'You uttering these words just brings me so much joy,' Inez squeals. 'Forget the Hunger Games… this is big... really big.'

'Of course it is.' Myriad turns his attention towards the prisoners behind the councilwoman who continue to stand there like statues, not attempting to make a run for it and seek freedom. 'And with these young people behind you, we will take over.'

'That's why I brought them. They know about the plan. They know about everything and they want to be a part of this. I promised them power and glory and wealth and that's what they'll get.' Inez claps her hands together.

'Then what are we waiting for? Let us begin right now,' Myriad says.


Yay! Subplot time!

First of all, I hope everyone is doing well and staying safe. I know there are a lot of ways in which we can view the current situation in a negative light but let's make the most of our time at home! Let's have fun and do the things we never really got to or usually don't have time for. Well, that's what I'm doing anyway lol.

But I hope you enjoyed this little subplot chapter. Do you think Anargi's approach was correct? Did you expect Myriad and Inez to come together? And what might they be planning?

Don't worry, next chapter we will start with the examination period which I am very excited about. It will be split into three parts: Combat Trials, Survival Trials, and Essence Trials. Each tribute will be put to the test to see if they've learned anything from their stay in the Capitol. Who will prevail and who will crumble under the pressure? Find out next time...

See ya soon!