A/N: Hey y'all, coming at you with prologue #2. Submissions are still open for 2 more weeks, so be sure to send your tributes in! I've gotten a ton of amazing characters already, so keep them coming! In the meantime, here's an introduction to the mentors in this universe!
(also I put Talon as the victor for the 102nd as a "placeholder" because he's one of mine so he isn't going to win. Whenever I get a victor from that story I'll slide them into this verse as the victor of some different Games)
Audra Lee. District Five.
It feels strange to be back in the Capitol. Ever since I was thirteen years old I've been making yearly trips to the shining city of Panem, and each has been with the same purpose. For six years after my victory I came here with two kids, and then made the lonely trip back without them. The first few years I had Caleb with me at least, but now the trip is made without any other passengers. Yet here I am, back in the Capitol, but without anxiety for my tributes or regret over their loss.
The city is still cleaning up from the previous day's celebration as Riven Leicester's victory tour comes to a close, and there's an eerie quietness to it all. I don't think I've ever seen the Capitol so calm, so uneventful. They made the necessary precautions to keep the victors' visit to the Capitol secret, and I can't help but be grateful for that.
It seems like I'm one of the last ones to arrive, a dozen cars with tinted windows already waiting outside the meeting hall. I'm quickly led into the hall, two men in suits obscuring any pedestrian's from spotting a look at one of Panem's most famous celebrities.
The room is alive with chatter as I step in, and it looks like I really am the last to arrive. Almost every single one of the victors is present, just a few of the Careers and the victors who have passed on being absent.
"Audra!" Tristan calls out my name and walks towards me, the woman from Twelve wrapping me in a tight hug. She pulls back and smiles, looking me over. "Look at you, practically an adult now."
"You'll be drinking yourself to an early grave with the rest of us in no time," Brendon chimes in, walking (or closer to stumbling, really) over to the two of us with drinks in his hands and Atlas and Kyle by his side.
Tristan swats him across the chest. "Shush now," she says sternly. "We have enough alcoholics in our group as it is."
Atlas slaps Brendon on the shoulder with his free hand while he downs a drink held in his other. "One of these years the Careers will finally lose and we'll find someone to fill Caleb's shoes."
"Yeah, because another Caleb is just what we've been missing," I say, rolling my eyes as Brendon slams back another glass. "Do any of you happen to know what this is about?"
Tristan nods her head, waving her hand as she leads us back to the table that the four had set themselves up at. Unsurprisingly, empty glasses and half-empty bottles of liquor are sprawled across it.
The only other person to spend any time chatting with our group, Melody, is with the rest of the District One team at a nearby table, while the half of the District Two and Four victors that are present all stand together by the exit. Mira and Dalton are missing, as usual, and there's nobody else still left. It's striking, really, seeing just how few of us there are. Nine years of me being the only non-Career victor doesn't help with diversity, I guess.
"It's about the rule changes, supposedly," Tristan says once we're all seated and I've pushed away enough glasses and bottles to make room for my arms to rest on the table. "It's probably a big change this year that they want to let us know about."
"What's up with that, anyways?" Brendon asks. "It's like they can't make up their minds, either. First they say there'll be quells every year, then they change it to every five, and now it's every ten. Then they say the ages will be from eight to twenty-two, and a year later it's back to normal. Now all of a sudden gender restrictions are gone and it's just two kids per district period. I'm all for changes but it feels like they're just switching things up for the sake of it."
"Maybe ratings are dropping," I offer up.
"Hope so," Kyle says. "Maybe soon they'll just cancel the whole thing altogether,"
"Hello," Head Gamemaker Tali Choice's voice booms through a microphone before any of us can respond to that. She's standing at the front of the meeting room, flanked by a few other Gamemakers and a half-dozen Peacekeepers. "It's great to see that most of you were able to make the trip. I hope you had a pleasant journey. We've gathered all of you hear to have a discussion about the Hunger Games. As you know, there have been some rule changes over the past few years, and we wanted to hear from the most knowledgeable Hunger Games experts themselves on what they think of the changes, and hear any suggestions they may have for how to improve the Games."
"There's only one way to make the Games better," Kyle says darkly, not waiting for permission to speak. "Get rid of them."
Tali looks uncomfortable, and a few murmurs and chuckles come from the Two and Four victors. "Well, I'm afraid that isn't much of a likely possibility," she says delicately.
"Then change them," he says, unwilling to back down. "Make it so only volunteers go in."
"We have discussed that, actually. However, until a majority of districts have a training academy that consistently produces two volunteers that won't be an option."
Brendon is quick to respond. "We're not gonna brainwash our kids into volunteering."
Tristan gives me an uncomfortable look, and I shift in my seat, my eyes glancing over to the Careers in the room and waiting for the storm that's sure to come.
"It's not brainwashing, it's preparing," Galavant jumps in, quickly leaping into the conversation before a less cool head is given the chance to respond. He speaks slowly and calmly as he looks to defuse the situation. "I'd rather send in thrill-seeking eighteen-year-olds than helpless little kids."
"So that your thrill-seekers can taunt, torture, and murder our kids." I look over at Atlas, surprised to hear him speaking up. There's hurt in his voice, though, and I can't blame him. The past five years it seems like he's constantly gotten kids that deserve better than the Games gave them.
Galavant doesn't so much as blink, keeping his tone neutral. "If that's the way you look at it you should be glad we're sending them in to the Games, no big loss after all."
"Yeah," Kyle spits out. "Except all too often one of them crawls out of the arena."
That's more than enough to cause the room to tip into chaos. Garen and Achilles both step forward, shouting out insults that Kyle and Brendon are more than happy to lob back. Atlas stays quiet, but also doesn't attempt to defuse things, continuing to glare at the Careers. Tristan and I share a helpless glance, and I watch Melody punch Galavant in the shoulder when he begins to laugh.
"That's enough!" Tali's voice booms through the microphone, the feedback screeching as all of us instinctively reach for our ears. It's enough to quiet the room for a moment, and Tali quickly continues speaking, not giving the fighting a chance to resume. "I didn't call this meeting to hear you bicker. I came to hear actionable ideas. This is your one chance you'll get for the foreseeable future to change the way the Games are run. I'd suggest you take it seriously."
Hesitantly, the Careers return back to their wall near the exit, and the men back down too, Kyle and Brendon falling back into their seats while Atlas breaks off his gaze.
"You want a good, easy change?" Galavant asks, breaking the silence. "Then stop with the bullshit quell twists. The 100th and 101st both never should've happened, and we shouldn't be having another one five years from now."
That's something that the entire room seems to be able to agree upon, murmurs of agreement coming from all corners. I find myself more in favor of it than anyone else, memories of the two most recent quells still fresh in my mind. In any normal year Levi, Sigma, and Armie wouldn't have been sent into the arena. The regular visits I force myself to make to their family and friends are enough to stop me from forgetting that.
Tali seems passive towards the idea. "Interesting thoughts from the district that won both the quells. Do our two victors from those years have any opinions they'd like to share on that matter?"
All eyes shift to the two District One victors, Prestige and Glory both slinking back into their seats as the attention comes to them. Neither of the two leap at the opportunity, but Glory eventually pushes herself a bit higher in her chair and weighs in. "The quells don't have to be worse, do they?" Glory asks timidly. "Instead of double the tributes, you could do half. Or something like that, I don't know."
Tali nods her head approvingly, then turns away. "Not a bad preposition. Sadly, our audiences tend to desire the more dramatic, more numerous, and greater bloodshed that quells tend to bring."
"And this is what it's really about, right?" A voice comes from the back of the room, and Talon Olympus steps forward, the victor of the 102nd Games wearing his trademark smirk while he stuffed his hands into his jacket pockets. "Not making this better, or more fair, just better ratings."
"Partially." Tali shrugs. "And if better ratings and higher approval ratings coincide with things that you see as improvements, I see no reasons why we shouldn't attempt to find places our interests align."
"People are bored 'cause Careers won't stop winning." Another District Two victor speaks up, Riven picking at her nails and not even looking up as she talks. "Hell, I was in the arena last year and even I was kind of hoping one of those scrawny underdogs from the outer districts would win." She shrugs.
"If only there were some way you could have helped," Kyle drawls, his voice dripping with enough sarcasm that it stopped being a joke and left me worried the room was about to erupt into fighting again.
Riven doesn't seem to care though, unfazed as ever. "Hey, they gotta earn it. I'm not just gonna toss it to 'em."
"And besides," Talon adds in. "Even if they did win, so what? What good will another alcoholic outer district victor who drinks themselves to death within a few years do."
Kyle and Brendon are right back on their feet again, but Atlas holds a hand out towards them, and Talon continues uninterrupted, though the three keep a harsh glare trained on the man. Tristan squeezes me on the shoulder, and I place a hand on hers, returning the reassurance.
"It's been, what, seven years since the last outer district victor?" He continues, a casual, nonchalant tone attached to his voice. "And Audra hardly counts, she just ran for so long the other Careers got bored and killed each other." I try to not react to that. The truthfulness of it doesn't make it any easier. "Hell, the only real victor that you have is Tristan. She's the only one that won because of skill, not luck, and keeps herself sober so she can actually pass on what she knows to her kids." Talon almost seems angry now, showing some sort of emotion besides detached and nonchalant for what seems like the first time. He laughs, but there's no humor to it. "And it doesn't even matter, because she's from District Twelve! All she gets is scrawny, malnourished kids with miner's lungs."
Tristan is the one to protest this time, and the rest are quick to back her up, but I still remain quietly seated, watching as the rest of the room descends into chaos.
"What?" He shouts over the commotion. "Am I wrong? Tell me I'm wrong. You want Careers to stop winning, then you need to throw them a bone. Hell, it's so bad Melody was out there last year mentoring for District Nine because they don't even have a victor." Tristan and the others go quiet for a moment at that, giving Talon enough time to finish his thought. "How about you give those districts a replacement victor? Then maybe give them some resources to make sure their victors don't all kill themselves with booze and morphine." I reach out to Atlas and give his hand a squeeze. He doesn't seem to notice.
"You wanna know why we're winning every year?" He turns, looking around the room and waiting for an answer that nobody offers up. "Because sure, our kids are trained, and they form a big alliance together, but we've been doing that forever but you didn't see us winning six years in a row back in the old days. You wanna know why we keep on coming back? Because our kids have mentors. Your kids get useless drunkards who don't know how to help them, or maybe if they're lucky a mute little girl instead."
This time, everyone looks ready to do more than just exchange words. My whole table is up on their feet, Atlas checking on me while the other three are moving towards the Careers shouting out challenges that the other group is glad to accept.
"Stop," I say, so quietly that I'm not sure if even Atlas hears me. "Stop," I say louder, but still nobody seems to notice. I stand up on my chair and suck in my breath.
"Stop!" I scream, my voice cracking as I go as loud as my vocal chords can manage. The room goes silent, everyone turning towards me, sleeves halfway rolled down already. People seem less concerned or focused and more surprised, but I'll take whatever attention I can get.
"He's right." I sigh. "He's an assshole," I bite down on my lip, swallowing my pride and reluctantly adding, "but he's right. It isn't fair to our kids, and that's why they keep dying. We didn't get trained for this, we didn't go to an academy. We got lucky, and now we're supposed to teach these kids how to survive when I don't even know how I got out in the first place. We need help. I don't know what that means, but. . . we just do."
"Well," Tali says, and I remember that she's been in the room this whole time. It may be my imagination, but I swear I can see a smile curling at the edge of her lips. "An intelligent, passionate group like this? I'm sure we can come up with some sort of solution. So, any ideas?"
I look over towards the small band of misfits that have become the only friends I've got, but none of them return the gaze, all of them avoiding eye-contact as they don't make a move to return to our table.
At the District One table, Prestige hesitantly climbs to her feet, looking unsure of herself as she glances around the room. "Yeah," she says. "I think I have an idea."
A/N: Hope you enjoyed this chapter with Audra and the rest of these misfits. For those of you who are new to my stories I hope this was a good introduction to this dysfunctional group of victors.
You guys have two more weeks so be sure to submit! Next prologue will most likely be the tribute list reveal!