Pamela 'Pam' Chrysanth, 16
District Nine Female
Pamela can't say she doesn't enjoy having all these eyes peering at her from afar, enclosed behind a sheet of glass. Were they scared of her? Of what she might do to them when she erupts? She liked to humor that idea. There was nothing much to do for now except to wait for the gamemakers call but she's starting to grow rather impatient as she nibbles on her fingertips. She glances back at the head gamemaker, Cyntho Fontana, with his little sidekick, Professor Myriad Dane. The two of them seem to be exchanging notes, peeking over at each other's tablets.
'Alright, we're ready for, Pamela.' Cynthio starts, lifting his notebook a little. 'It seems like there's quite a bit to unpack with you,' he says with a sinister smile as he sets his notes away. 'But it should be fun.' He claps his hands together ceremoniously. 'We're going to start with something simple…' Pamela flinches a little as the doors in front of her part to the side and an avox steps out. He's young, probably a few years older than her but not much more. It might be the customer-friendly side of her coming out, but part of her wants to ask the boy for his name, forgetting that his tongue has been sliced off.
'Release your toxin, Pamela.' a small shiver crawls over her body. It's clear that the boy is here for one purpose and one purpose only and the miserable expression on his face makes that ever so clear. Pamela can recall countless times in all the books she's read when the hero would stand up to injustice, fighting for what they thought was right. If only Pamela was a hero. But she's not. She'd never been what you'd traditionally call good and she never will be. She's manipulated people into buying and consuming her drugs, she's spat into the drinks of particularly nasty customers, she wasn't able to woman-up and take care of her sister. She's never been good and she won't change now.
'I'm sorry…' she whispers to the boy as she throws her head back, opening her mouth slightly and letting the intoxicatingly colourful gas take over the space around her. The mesmerizing cloud-like bodies warp out of her throat in unison, swallowing everything in their path. When Pamela cocks her head back she notices a large monitor with four empty spaces light up at the wall to her left.
'The boy carries the code,' Cynthio speaks up flatly. Pamela rolls her eyes slightly, groaning at the thought of what she has to do. Pam shifts through the gas swiftly, spotting the avox boy dangling around on his feet, barely able to keep his balance. There's a large smile plastered across his youthful face. His eyes seem lost… like they want to be lost. This is probably the best feeling he's had in ages.
She puts her hand on his shoulder, gaining his attention immediately which is surprising given his drunken state. 'Oh… you're pretty.' he says, the words almost melting together.
'You think so?' she snickers. She slides her hand into his and pulls him a little closer into the viper's pit. She wets her lips with her tongue. She can tell that the boy is trying to get even closer to her maybe even trying to lean in for a kiss. She ducks backslightly but runs her hand through his hair.
'Do you wanna… uh… like...' his words fade and Pam catches some saliva, dripping down from the corner of his mouth. Oh god. She needs to make this quick.
'We can do whatever you wanna do.' She gets closer again. 'But you need to help me first.'
'I'll do whatever you want me to do.' he bows his head a little.
She cups his cheeks, lifting him back up as his legs seem to be on the verge of imploding. 'Good, then you wouldn't mind passing me the code, right?' she smiles softly, shutting her eyes and pressing him against her. She can feel his heart beating rapidly without signs of slowing down. He's getting heavier in her arms to the point where she has to push him back a little. The avox boy's head dangles helplessly. He raises his head with difficulty, staring right into her eyes, the dreaminess in his gaze having vanished and replaced by a fatigued and dreary expression. The colour from his eyes has been drained completely.
'Help…' he wheezes, his legs going numb and giving in completely. He hits the floor hard.
'Oh no…' Pamela takes a few steps back, her hands beginning to shake frantically now. The avox boy tries to get up, his right hand clawing at his chest. His complexion begins to go paler than his eyes. With every attempt to lift himself, he just crashes back even harder. Pam abandons her fears and rushes to his side, heaving him onto her lap. When she touches his skin she feels the piercing coldness radiating off of him.
'S-somebody needs to help him!' she screams. She tries to reach out for his hand but it seems to be permanently clawed to his flesh. This has never happened before… none of this has happened before. When she tested her abilities on Colin, they never came across any side effects so why the fuck is this happening now?
'I… c-c-c-can't br-' he tries to choke out these last words, his now blue hands moving up to his throat and gripping it with all his might. Pamela slides away from him, getting to her feet.
'He's fucking dying!' she screeches at Cynthio who seems to be enjoying this more than he should. Myriad shuffles a little closer to him and whispers something in his ear to which he simply nods, turning his attention back to the furious District Nine girl. 'For fuck's sake!' she runs back to the boy, lifting up his head and wrapping her arms around it. 'I'm sorry… I'm so sorry.' She rocks back and forth with him in her arms as the grip around his throat loosens up until his hands fall to the side lifelessly. 'monsters…' Pamela hisses under her breath. 'Monsters.'
The dead silence is interrupted through clapping coming from the intercom. 'Very well done, Pamela Chrysanth of District 9. You have exceeded our expectations.' Cyntho calls out blatantly, looking almost maniacal as he glances at Myriad's tablet with a giddy smile. 'You may leave now. We'll take care of the body.'
Her mind goes blank, the dead boy still wrapped in her arms. She notices how the corners of her eyes seem to be getting darker and yet she can't stop it from letting it consume her. Perhaps sinking is the only way now; the only way to kill this pain she's never felt before.
Yes, darkness kills the pain.
Voxel Phong, 13
District Three Female
Something didn't seem right. Given the constant positive reinforcement, she's been receiving from the head gamemaker and the professor she should be acing this trial which, yes, does give her a boost of confidence but it feels like she's rushing through things. It's not the way Voxel does her job when she's in her little studio and able to take time with her creations, thinking carefully about each step, each process. It's never a matter of how fast she can get things done but with how much precision, how much accuracy. Voxel was always aware of the fact that she was a rather slow person and didn't do things brashly. However, she's found herself experiencing more joy when her projects turn out the way she wants them to.
Standing in the centre of the trial room, the haunting emptiness of the chamber swallowing her whole subtly reminds her of when she'd first put on her virtual reality headset in the early morning. It was a wonderful feeling; one she can't describe. It's like entering a whole other world, except there were endless possibilities; no constraints, no rules, no outside intervention. The emptiness was her playing field and it was up to her to create a scene. Voxel was the concept designer, executive producer, and marketer.
However, that freedom had been taken away from her at the very moment as she's been tasked with turning a cube into various shapes. It started of easier: cylinder, sphere, cone, torus and then they got to the more difficult and complex shapes: tetrahedron with four equilateral triangle faces, dodecahedron with twelve pentagon faces, and a rhombicosidodecahedron with 12 regular triangular faces, 30 square faces, 12 regular pentagonal faces, 60 vertices, and 120 edges. But Voxel knew how to operate through all these complex shapes. In fact, back at home, she'd calculate the volume and surface area of such shapes with her parents as a pastime activity, her father preparing fresh cookies that they'd dish on as they went about solving their equations and comparing them, teasing each other about their mistakes. Just the thought of it puts a smile on Voxels face as she races through her task.
'Wow! That's amazing!' Cynthio calls out as he leans forward. Voxel notices his fingers gripping the arms of his chair tightly. 'Well, Voxel, we've already been watching you during training and we've seen how you were able to replicate every single one of our weapon models. You're quite a diligent one, aren't you?' Voxel smiles, unsure if the question was meant to be answered. She hesitates for a second before opening her mouth to answer. 'So, I don't think you need to show us anything in that field…' Cynthio fills the gap that Voxel felt obliged to fill herself. 'I have an idea.' the gamemaker raises a finger. 'I'll let you decide.'
And just like that, Voxel feels a certain warmth forming in her core. A warmth that quickly develops into a rush of excitement, a certain giddiness that she can't see, to rid herself of. She takes a deep breath and lets her fantasies take control of her actions. The white and hollow space around her begins to develop some colour as patches of grass grow at her feet. She twists her hand to the right causing an explosion of floral patterns. She shoots out her other hand to the left cause trees, double her size, to protrude from the ground, towering above her. She's the composer and the essence flowing through her body, almost oozing out at that point, is her orchestra. The plants move around her body in synchrony with her movements. She's breathing her creations and they're breathing through her, becoming a part of her and living through her. As the closing act, Voxel raises both her hands, that same big old smile plastered onto her, causing the flowers and trees to rid themselves of their leaves and petals, creating a halestorm of colourful flora.
Of course, the plants aren't real. After all, Voxel doesn't know the biological and chemical composition of most of her creations in this room. It would have definitely taken her more than a few days to create a functioning organism that developed without a mind of its own. As far as Voxel knows, she can't create people or animals because that would require her to pass on logic and self-consciousness which she is unable to do. If she worked hard, she could create a replica of a human being but it would very likely wind up as hollow and abandoned as an empty cocoon with the other shell left behind. However, it wasn't Voxel's intention to create biologically functioning flora but to show the gamemakers the holographic landscapes she's able to create on a whim. She's giving them a part of her and by the look on both the professor's and Cynthio's face she did not disappoint; even she could read that off of their faces.
'That was amazing, Voxel!' the head gamemakers shouts out before turning his attention to the professor whose movements seem a little unresting. The professor beckons for Cynthio to approach, whispering something in his ears while Voxel makes her holographic images disappear as not to seem like she's being impolite and trying to eavesdrop on their conversation.
'Yes, definitely, definitely…' she catches the head gamemakers nodding. 'Alright, Voxel, if it is alright with you, we'll have you complete one more task; a quick one, I promise.' he beams warmly. Voxel answers with a simple thumbs-up. It's been a lot of fun showing them what she can do and she certainly doesn't mind showboating for a little longer. She'd never call herself an arrogant person - not at all - but it felt nice having an audience that appreciated her, especially after having felt so alone for the past couple of days. 'Our assistant here is going to hand you a glass bowl,' the game maker says as a woman dressed in all-white from head to toe, her face covered with a see-through sheet, enters the chamber, holding a foldable table in one hand and a glass bowl in the other. She sets the bowl on the table in front of Voxel and hurries out the room just as swiftly as she had appeared.
'I need you to fill this bowl with water,' he tells her. Voxel looks up at the two men, tilting her head a little as she pushes her glasses up. Surprisingly enough the thought of creating an inorganic compound never crossed her mind. But if it's something that Voxel adores then it's a good old fashioned experiment. She lifts her hands, palms hovering over the bowl. It was all about logic. It had always been about logic. If she knew what water was made of then surely she would be able to create it and everyone knew the chemical composition of water. And just like that an orb of pure H2O began to grow at her hands. She sets her fingers apart to drop the orb into the bowl causing it to splash to the side a little. Voxel jumps up in excitement, dropping her walker and falling to the side. A pair of avoxes rush to her aid and pick her up again as she chuckles quietly to herself. Cynthio doesn't say a word, instead, looking over at the professor with a satisfied smile as the avoxes escort Voxel outside.
Dirk Latimer, 18
District Twelve Male
Dirk enters the examination chamber with a certain confidence trailing closely behind him. 'Welcome, welcome!' Cynthio shouts through the intercom, legs crossed behind the glass frame. 'Make yourself comfortable… but not too comfortable,' he laughs to which Dirk rolls his eyes briefly. 'So your ability is wind manipulation, huh?'
'It is indeed.' Dirk answers with a quick nod. He wants to keep things short and not waste time. This is his last day to get some proper training in before the festivities of the upcoming two days.
'I've heard that you've been training on your ability diligently. How's it going?' Cynthio rests his chin on the palm of his hand. Something about the head gamemakers unsettles Dirk. It feels nearly impossible to read Cyntho even though that damn taunting smile is stuck to his face 24/7.
'Good, I suppose. I guess it's all about practice after-' Dirk starts before feeling a cold breeze near the back of his neck. He turns around as his reflexes kick in, sending a shockwave of air that pushes the soaring arrow away from him. His heart begins to beat rapidly at the realization of the situation or how things could have ended had his sense not alerted him on time. 'What the hell man?!' he shouts. 'That could have fucking killed me!' he balls his fists, the blood rushing to his face.
'Oh, trust me, Dirk, there's a lot more that can kill you in the arena.' Cynthio sighs. 'But it seems like your hard work has paid off.' Just as Dirk rests his shoulder, he hears another arrow approaching from behind him; this time at a higher velocity so that a simple defensive gust won't do the trick. He uses his arm to model a quick cut that he drags across his chest, summoning a sharp breeze that cuts through the arrow. Slightly out of breath, he furrows his eyebrows at the gamemaker.
'How many more you want to send my way?' Dirk asks, a slight smirk perched on his lips.
'As many as it takes,' Cynthio responds rather coldly and Dirk can tell that he doesn't find his burst of confidence amusing. However, before Dirk has the opportunity to recollect himself he catches several cracks on the ceiling opening up, probably functioning as passageways for the arrows to shoot through. He notices another few in the corners of the trial room. Dirk smiles fully now, waiting for the right moment. It's all about timing. 'Actually…' Cynthio speaks up, the formed cracks closing up again. 'Let's try something different, shall we?' Dirk scratches his head, eyes following the gamemaker closely. Cynthio gestures to one of the peacekeepers guarding the observatory. A few moments of awkward silence combined with staring contests between Dirk and Cynthio pass before a woman with silky black hair that reaches down to her pelvis moves into the chamber quietly. Dirk presumes that she's an avox given her red uniform. Probably another delusional rebel who thought that she could cause change. Dirk scoffs to himself. If people weren't so obsessed with changing how things are the whole time then maybe all of this could have been avoided in the first place… Of course the Capitol was going to defend itself and, at the end of the day, any kind of punishment is justified be it the Hunger Games or any other kind of torment. It's because of people like her that he's suffering from collateral damage.
However, Dirk's calm demeanor takes a hit once the woman pulls out a knife. She doesn't seem happy at all, in fact, rather miserable. Dirk's eyes widen as he glances up to the observation space and quickly catches on to what Cynthio is expecting of him. 'I want to see what you're able to do in a combat situation. Show me your wrath, Dirk.'
There was absolutely no way that Dirk was going to hurt this woman. Sure, she's a rebel and her punishment is absolutely justified but she's not a plaything. A punishment isn't supposed to dehumanize and ridicule someone, it is supposed to form a foundation on which self-improvement is possible. This… this is just sick. 'Forget it,' he says firmly with a clear tone. 'That's not what I'm here to do. I'm here to serve a sentence for the stubbornness and impulsiveness of the people before me. I'm not here to kill an innocent woman for your entertainment.' Dirk bites the inside of his lip.
The head gamemaker laughs. 'But, Dirk, how is that any different from having you kill other kids in the arena?' Cynthio asks, voicing faux-innocence.
'The Hunger Games serve as penance for the rebellious actions of the Districts. They are the agreed upon punishment. They're here to make us learn… to make us improve and teach us to appreciate what we already have. No one enjoys the Games.' Dirk offers a quick glance to the avox woman who's awkwardly fumbling with the knife in her hand. 'However, forcing me to kill this woman as part of my private session; well, that's not what was agreed upon and I can tell that I would be doing it solely for your entertainment.' As Dirk's speech comes to a close, he realizes that this is probably the longest time he's spoken without interruption since he arrived in the Capitol.
'Oh, Dirk… you… you... ' Cynthio laughs, unable to form a complete sentence. 'You think we don't do this for-' The gamemaker is interrupted by a firm grip of professor Myriad to which Cynthio's smile drops. 'Alright, no worries… no worries. Then I think we're done here!' Cynthio gestures for Dirk to leave.
Dirk still fails to understand what was so amusing about his speech. He was actually quite proud of himself for maintaining his moral compass and standing up to injustice. It's what he was taught to do by his family and what he will keep on doing for the rest of his life. Caught in his thoughts, Dirk fails to catch Diana in time as he walks out of the trial chamber, bumping into the fiery girl.
'Watch it, idiot.' she shoves her shoulder into his side, pushing her way through.
'What's your problem?' Dirk usually isn't one to lose his cool but something just irked him about his district partner this time.
'Is that a serious question?' she stops in her tracks, turning towards him. He feels the weight of her steps causing ripples to form across the ground.
'I know you don't like me, Diana, and I don't necessarily like you either but if we want this alliance to work we need to put our differences aside and learn to cope with each other.' Dirk feels the heat radiating off of her body causing him to sweat a little.
'Listen, boy, the only reason I'm even acknowledging your existence is that for some reason beyond my comprehension Sev feels safer with you in our alliance.' Diana puts her scorching fingers on his shoulder. Dirk slaps her hand away with a quick wince. 'I'm just going to sit silently and wait for the moment when Sev finally realizes that we don't need you...'
She smiles wickedly and walks back. '...and when she does, I'll plunge my dagger into your traitorous heart.'
Severin 'Sev' Neferet, 17
District Eleven Female
leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he rubs his forehead. 'Can you just tell me how I could have done things differently?' Severin catches a certain glimmer in his eyes. It seems like they've reached the climax of their session. This is usually the part where Severin has tread extra carefully.
'Charles, I know you're a good man. That's why I married you after all…' she scooches closer next to him, setting her hand gently on his broad back. 'It was difficult for both of us and I feel like sometimes you forgot that.'
lifts his head, facing Severin and staring into the eyes of his deceased wife. 'What do you mean?' he sniffles a little, the orbs of salt dripping down his face. Working for Helpout could get a little unsettling sometimes and in these moments, Severin had to make sure to stay in character to deliver the full experience. She's met many helpers who couldn't take the pressure and the sadness that came with their job. Perhaps it was because they weren't as desperate as she was for a stable income. Well, at the moment her family's income is anything but stable especially with her mother's inability to leave her bed.
'I just think that you always took responsibility for everything. You carried that guilt all by yourself and it isolated you,' she responds. 'I guess part of me didn't know how to cope with that, how to make you feel better about yourself.'
'But then why-' he starts and Severin feels the breakdown that's about to take place.
'Charles.' he freezes. 'I drove away that night because I loved you and it hurt me to watch you in pain. You weren't the one who caused my death that night… it was my own inability to cope with my feelings.'
And before she could think of what else to say, wrapped Severin in a hug. 'Thank you,' he whispers. She puts her bony arms around his shoulders, thinking about what she wanted to prepare for dinner. She might have to pass by the farmer's market on the way home. She needs to keep some money for savings so a warm vegetable soup sounds like a viable option.
When the two of them switch back to reality and Severin cuts her facade loose, her client hands her the money before she gives him one last parting hug in the hopes that he might give her an extra tip. When he leaves without tipping, Sev groans a little, making her way to the bus station.
Once she's home, she opens the door quietly in case her mother is sleeping. 'Sev, darling?' her mother coughs, pushing herself upright. The light is dim in their small apartment, making it hard to clearly decipher anything.
'I'm back from work, momma.' she places the grocery bags on the table, grabbing one of the chairs and setting it next to her mother's bed for her to sit on. 'How are you?' she asks gently, moving over her mother's head with her palm. 'Oh gosh, you're warm. Do you have a fever? Should I get you a towel? Or tea?' Severin pushes the chair back.
'I'm fine, sweetheart. Don't worry about me,' she says. 'Tell me about your day.' her mother smiles weakly.
'It was just a normal day at the grocery store, you know how it is.' Sev would never tell her mother about her actual line of work. She was a simple woman, after all, and she'd call what Severin does prostitution, not therapy. 'I'm going to prepare some soup for you but then I have to get to my night shift.'
'I'm sorry.'
'What?' Severin drops the vegetables on the kitchen table. 'What are you apologizing for?'
'You… you're only seventeen… you should be having fun… m-meeting new people and-' her mother breaks into tears.
'No, no,' Sev says, her voice now shaky too. 'Momma, listen to me.' She takes her mother's hands. 'I need you to look at me, momma.' Realizing that her mother wasn't doing so well, Sev slips under the covers, hugging her mother and resting her head on her shoulder.
The vegetable soup could wait for now.
The private session she had with Cynthio and Myriad felt extremely awkward. She was tasked with summoning her two alter egos. Sev didn't really like her essence ability. It involved summoning two identical copies of herself who had contrasting personalities. It didn't take long for Sev to realize what they represented respectively. The first one, Sevvy - the way she liked to call her clone - was sweet and charming and socially very adaptable. She was also a bit of a flirt which made Severin rather uncomfortable since it was a very strange feeling to flirt with herself. Sevvy reminded her a lot of how she'd act late at night at the bar events, fishing for some tips after her singing performance. She didn't exactly know what to do with Sevvy so it was better to just keep her out of the way for now.
The second one, Rin, was more quiet and didn't like to make eye contact. What Severin noticed in the private training chamber was that Rin was extremely agile and fast. She had no problem climbing walls or swinging from bar to bar. She also had a way of simply sneaking up on someone without them noticing. It happened a few times, once with the boy from Five, Pavlov, who ended up smiling awkwardly. From that moment on, Sev has tried to avoid him as often as possible. So while Sevvy was extroverted and social, Rin was quiet and sneaky. Putting two and two together wasn't hard. Her two clones represented her two identities, one of which she displays outwardly, the other with its kleptomaniac tendencies she prefers to keep to herself. It was a little bit in your face if Severin had to admit.
During the essence trial, there was a moment when Severin was under the impression that professor Myriad Dane had figured out that she stole the wallet at the post-parade-party after having taken excessive time to observe Rin. Sev spent the whole trial, hiding her hands behind her back so none of them would catch on to her nervousness. It felt like an eternity as Myriad poked her two clones and asked them seemingly random questions as he took his notes.
Now, all she wants to do is take a nice warm bath with some soothing essential oils. The capitol lifestyle was luxurious to say the absolute least. The avoxes were there to do whatever she wanted them to do. Once, she'd even asked one of them to massage her head as another scrubbed her feet. It was nice to be in control. She's been doing stuff for other people all her life so she deserved this. However, regardless of the luxury, she's been presented with on a silver platter she must not forget her main purpose. She needs to survive. Survive, survive, survive. That's all that matters.
'Yoo-hoo!' Sev catches a smooth high-pitched voice calling after her. She turns around to see a young woman, swallowed by her puffy white fur-coat, click-clacking after her excruciatingly painful-looking heels and yet she manages to chase Severin down to hallways in an utmost graceful fashion.
Sev stops in her tracks as she waits for the now seemingly short woman to arrive. She bends down to catch her breath before introducing herself. 'Hyia! Fluffette Volakis, District 1 escort,' she extends her hand in a way that makes Severin feel like she's supposed to kiss it. Instead, she awkwardly takes Fluffette's hand from below and shakes it. What on earth does One's escort want from her?
'Listen, I'll make it quick cause I don't want anyone catching us talking.' Sev huddles in closer. 'I saw you perform at that party and… wow, that was the most beautiful thing I've heard in a long time,' Fluffette says between deep breaths of exhaustion from her short sprint
'O-Oh, uh, thanks,' Severin smiles shily, trying hard not to blush.
'So, yeah, you're amazing and… uh, I need you to perform in front of a live audience.' she says hastily as if trying to get the words out as fast as possible.
'Wait, what? I-I can't-'
'Yes, you can. Listen, no one needs to find out about this but everyone, and I mean everyone, is talking about you right now. You're a star, honey. Just imagine all the sponsors you'll get. You're the Capitol's sweetheart and you need to shower in the glory!' Fluffette grabs Severin's shoulders, shaking the speechless girl. 'Pleaaaase say yes.'
There are too many thoughts rushing through Sev's head right now and she can't seem to get any of them in line. '...yeah, why not,' she answers almost absentmindedly.
'That's what I like to hear! This is gonna be sooo much fun, girl! Okay I gotta go but I'll catch you tomorrow.' she squeals before trotting away.
'Hold up,' Severin calls, catching the escort's attention. 'What's in it for you?'
She smiles coyly. 'They call me the Songbird and it never hurts to be associated with talent,' she says with a wink and walks away.
A live audience… well, if there's something Severin knows how to do then it's how to wrap others around her finger. And perhaps she can use this newfound fame as leverage over Dirk when the time is right.
The longer she thinks about it the more it makes sense. Yes, Severin might have a plan.
We're entering the homestretch of the pre-games now! So these were the essence trials which I hope you guys enjoyed. Sadly we couldn't see every tribute's essence trial since they are held privately so the tribute's essence abilities can be kept private from the other tributes. The last cycle is approaching where we're going to have a free day, the interviews/score reveal, and the night before and trust me when I tell you that this last trio of chapters is where it will all set the stage for what is to come in the games. I've never been so close to reaching the games and I'm so freaking pumped, let's go!
Big thanks to everyone who's reviewing frequently! You guys are pushing me and motivating me and I love listening to your feedback.
Since school started again I'm not completely sure when I can update with the next chapter but I hope sooner rather than later.
Let me know what you thought of this chapter in the reviews and I'll see everyone next time!
Cya!
