T/W for a lot of swearing in Phoenix's PoV (the 2nd one)
Soren Sinclair
District 5 Male
Age 18
Welcome Party
Soren shrinks backward, trying to completely disappear. He watches the boy from Three curiously and cautiously approach Soren's table. Arobyn's soft, grey eyes drink in his frame, which makes Soren's stomach feel uneasy.
Sitting in the very back of a crowded room typically means 'avoid me' but it's clear this kid is either blind or he's picked out Soren from the reaping and wants to talk.
Three glances back nervously, gazing at his blonde District partner who gives him two thumbs up and a wide grin. He shakes his head in response but turns back to Soren, offering a nervous smile.
"Hey…" he starts, standing on the other side of Soren's table.
"Hey," Soren responds in a rather maladroit manner, raising a dark eyebrow towards the ceiling.
"My name is Arobyn," the boy introduces, obviously uncomfortable (even though he'd been the one to start the conversation).
"Soren." He nods, his responses mono-word in the hopes the boy will just leave him alone. Soren is not looking for an ally, he knows he'll be much better off by himself.
"Nice to meet you, Soren," the boy says, way too formally for his liking.
"Mhm," Soren tilts his head, rolling his eyes.
Arobyn doesn't seem to get the hint but is just as socially awkward as Soren so the two sit in silence for a solid minute, eyes scanning the other tributes. Most of them casually chat with one another, a mere few flanking the sides.
"So.. uh.. District Five, right?" Arobyn asks, nervously tugging at the sleeve of his button-down.
Soren nods, "Yeah. District Three?" he asks, already knowing the answer.
He has watched the reapings many times over and already has memorized all of the names and Districts. Like, he looks around, the girl from Eleven, Azalea, who is trying to start a conversation with the stoic girl from Ten, Calista. Or the boy from Eight, Wells, who takes a small shot of some alcoholic drink and cringes.
"Yep," Arobyn says, still tugging on his shirt.
Soren sighs, he really wants to tell the boy to go away but is that being too mean? He sure as heck doesn't want to make any enemies, even if it is the shy boy from Three who will probably die in the bloodbath. You never know, like last year the boy from Eight (who as many thought would be a bloodbath) clawed his way into the finale. So anticipate anything, watch out for everything.
"Ok… I'm gonna go get some punch, you want any?" Arobyn asks, obviously wanting to get away from the awkward conversation he'd started as well.
"No I'm good," Soren replies, wanting the same, "thank you though,"
He watches the boy turn around and leave, striding to the non-alcoholic punch bowl. Arobyn slowly gets himself a glass. The bright red liquid swirls in the crystal cup, shaking slightly in his tight grip. The boy takes a sip, eyes on Arnau from Ten- maybe he can make an ally with him?
Soren sighs, turning away from the scene but whips back when he sees the boy from Eight trip over a disco ball cord. He tries to shout out to Arobyn but it's too late, the pair collide and clumsily fall to the ground.
The punch Arobyn had been holding, now stains both of their outfits and matches the bright color of Three's face. He profusely apologizes, offering a small smile as the pair get to their feet.
Soren turns away, eyes falling on the careers who seem to be bickering amongst themselves. Typical careers. Who can blame them? That's what happens when you put a bunch of alpha personalities together and expect them to work as a unit.
He signs, shifting his gaze across the room to the pair from Six who dance to the beat pounding from a blaring speaker. They smile, enjoying the party- and the free drinks. Both seem to be intoxicated but that isn't stopping them in the slightest. Idiots. Don't they know sponsors are watching? Like Soren wants to have fun but to that extent? Definitely not…
"No," he whispers to himself, nodding to confirm the idea.
He rolls his eyes, chuckling slightly as Azalea gives up on her talk with Calista. Her shoulders slump for a second in defeat but as she spots another target, her bubbly self comes right back. Lapis is just minding her business, chatting lightly with Avery, Azalea's District partner but smiles as Azalea approaches.
Avery and Azalea fist bump, grinning in an already set friendship.
Damnit, Soren sometimes wishes Clara was not Clara and could be something more from home. A good District partner. Not platonically, of course, just something that isn't an emotionless pyromaniac.
She scares the absolute crap outta Soren, and he's not afraid to admit it. She is terrifying to everyone.
He remembers seeing her around the District and in school often. But that was all before her parents' factory fire deaths…
Factory fire? Factory FIRE. That girl killed her fucking parents, what the hell, no wonder she's so messed up. How did she? Why did she?
Soren can't help but feel his eyes go wide with fear. What's to say she won't try to kill him as well? Yes, Capital people don't like when tributes fight but there have been deaths in the pregames before… holy shit. That could be him.
He blinks, trying to erase the thought but it doesn't budge. All he can picture is her lighting his body on fire while he screams out in crippling pain.
Well fuck, he's screwed, bad.
So, so bad.
Phoenix Robinson
District 4 Male
Age 18
Welcome Party
Phoenix can't help but let out a throaty sigh, leaning his frame against the party room's back wall. The decorative, colorful banner stabs into his back and he scrunches his eyelids. Even the stupid 'welcome tributes' shit is against him, could this party get any fucking worse?
He hasn't even been here that long but exhaustion has marked its place. Why does his mentor want him to socialize with everyone anyway?
It's not like Dylan has anything good to say, so why should Phoenix be forced to listen to him? He's already driven Phoenix to near insanity, him and that little prick of a District partner. He doesn't think he can make it another week with those fuckers but-
"Hey. Phoenix, right?" a smooth, masculine voice asks, interrupting Phoenix's thoughts.
He rolls his eyes, no way in hell he wants to deal with another infuriating bitch at this stupid fucking party but he still shifts his body to see the voice's figure.
The boy's chestnut brown hair curls softly around his ears, framing icy blue eyes and a wide, oddly charismatic smile. "Not a people-person?" he suggests, the corners of his lips unturning in a toothy grin.
He leans up against the wall and Phoenix scowls at him, "I'm done with all these idiots," he grunts dryly.
"Oh no. I'm sorry, maybe you can go back to the fourth floor?" he offers, shrugging, still smiling as he speaks.
"Can't."
"Sponsors?" the boy questions, waving at his district partner from across the room; she just scowls at him.
"I hate them, I don't need sponsors to win, I have my skills," Phoenix says offhandedly, "and that'll be what helps me in the end. It's fucking stupid."
"I know right. It's so stupid, I hate these games," he laughs lightly.
Phoenix stands blinking for a moment, unresponsive.
"What?" he hisses after a second, "what did you just say?"
"I was agreeing with you. The Hunger Games are stupid?" he queries, confusion lacing his features.
"That is not what I said," Phoenix's tone quickly angering, "you think these games are stupid?"
"Yeah… you ok man? You look really upset." He says, stating the annoyingly obvious. His stupid, cheeky smile wipes itself off clean his face, the realization hitting him like a pound of bricks.
"These games are my life, is that stupid to you?" Phoenix demands, his voice a powerful shout now.
He narrows his dark eyes, staring dead-set into Laurent's. Without shifting his gaze, Phoenix knows some of the other tributes are already watching the pair, but he couldn't care less.
Red, hot rage boils in his veins, brain practically steaming as Laurent's face starts to turn a shade of light pink. He stands his ground but doesn't respond back, eyes locked on Phoenix's.
Phoenix takes a confident step backward, raising his fist slightly.
BAM.
His knuckles burn as they contact Laurent's jaw.
The boy lets out a gasp. Confused.
Laurent staggers backward, eyes not enraging but questioning.
He doesn't retaliate, just stands there, jaw already turning a light shade of purple. Laurent inhales deeply, about to say something but stops when a figure steps out from the crowd gathering before the pair.
"Don't you touch him again," he says, blonde hair popping into Phoenix's view.
"Whatcha gonna do if I just," he taunts in a low growl, "bam, punch him?"
The boy reaches Phoenix in exactly two strides and within a second, he holds both of his arms, "stop you,"
"You don't scare me one bit,"
"I'm not trying to scare you," the second boy says, placing his frame between Phoenix and Laurent.
"Then let me go, asshole."
The blonde from Two obliges but stays in front of Laurent.
Phoenix pushes his hands against the boy's chest, trying to push him away but he doesn't budge. Two stands in his way, eyes at least five inches over Phoenix's head.
"Oh, pretty boy needs someone to stand up for him, can't even fight his own battles." Phoenix mocks as the boy, (what's his name again?) just stands there, motionless like a stone wall.
None of the other tributes move an inch, watching them like hawks.
"No I don't," Laurent says, trying to push past the tall boy.
"Dude, he's just trying to get on your nerves, don't stoop to his level," the boy says, turning to face Laurent.
"Harry!" a girl says, pushing her way into the scene from the back of the crowd.
That's his name, Harry, gross.
"Oxanna, I'm fine, don't worry," he smiles at her, but she wraps her arms around Phoenix anyway, pulling him away. Her arms are muscular and surprisingly strong for a stupid fucking girl.
"HEY! I leave for one second and shit happens, I said no fighting on the premises." someone says (probably Dylan) and Phoenix knows everything is going downhill from here. He takes a deep breath and stops fighting against Oxanna's grip.
Dylan yells some more and other mentors shout back.
All of the other tributes are confused
If his head wasn't such a mess, Phoenix would have smiled thinking of all the panic and chaos he caused-
The next thing he knows, he's being dragged back to his room on the fourth floor. Take that, stupid sponsors, ha! That's what he wanted in the first place.
Phoenix sighs, smiling as Dylan leads him back to his quarters.
"Why did you do that?" he demands, brow furrowing.
Phoenix thinks for a moment but doesn't respond.
He hates the boy from One's guts. Laurent has no place in the career pack and never will with his mindset. Phoenix is going to make sure he doesn't. Laurent made him look like an idiot, and for that, he'll pay dearly. Both him and Harry.
Wells Bobbin
District 8 Male
Age 17
Welcome Party
"I'm so so sorry," the boy apologizes for the fourth time since he and Wells had stood up.
"Nah. Don't be, I didn't like this suit much anyway, it was too bland and needed some sorta color." Wells says, "I was too scared to add it myself, so thanks."
"I'm still sorry though."
"Don't be, it's really no big deal," he smiles softly.
"Really?"
"Yes," Wells nods and the boy extends his hand out for a formal handshake.
"The name's Arobyn," he introduces.
"Wells," he laughs lightly, hi-fiving Arobyn's outstretched hand with a grin.
"Oh…" Arobyn looks taken aback for a second and Wells can't help but let out another chuckle.
"Handshakes aren't necessarily my thing, hi-fives though, much more exciting."
"Yeah," Arobyn replies softly as the music shifts to a slower, soft beat.
"You're from District 3?" Wells asks, trying to keep the conversation alive.
"Yeah," he nods, shifting his eyes away from Wells.
Arobyn nervously plays with the collar of his cream, now stained, button-down. Wells can't help but watch the boy for a moment, the feeling of remembrance smacking him hard in the chest.
Warp, his brother, often found himself anxious in loud, social settings.
"Hey," Wells says, inhaling deeply, "you wanna blow this popsicle joint?"
"This what?" Arobyn questions, raising a bushy, brown eyebrow.
Wells sighs, "let's get outta here."
That's what his brother would have wanted him to say.
"It's too stuffy," he lies, knowing he is fine in here. He's willing to take the fall or whatever because it's clear Arobyn's uncomfortable.
Warp felt awkward in most places like this and it was always Wells's job to rescue him and maybe… maybe Arobyn needs the same?
He doesn't even know if you're allowed to skip something like this but who cares? They'll both probably be dead sometime in the next few weeks anyway.
"What?"
"Do you want to get outta here, probably just go outside?"
"Can we do that?"
"Who knows," Wells grins, "only one way to find out." He lightly wraps his fingers around Arobyn's wrist. He doesn't dare push him farther, just meets Arobyn's worried gaze. He looks very unsure for a moment before an adventurous look settles in his grey irises.
"I-" he stutters but stops and just gives Wells a half-smile followed by a nod. "My shirt is already sticky, screw it," he says softly.
"Trust me, it'll be fun," Wells chuckles, grabbing tighter onto Arobyn's arm as the pair weave through bodies packed tightly across the tables and dance floor. They slip out the double doors quietly, making not to disturb any of the mentors.
Wells smiles, looking into Arobyn's now torn eyes.
"Loosen up, dude, com'on," Wells says, dragging Arobyn out of the long hallway and into the cold night. Snowflakes fall upon Well's frame and he can't help but grin. His punch-stained shirt sticks to his frame but he doesn't even notice.
Unsure, Arobyn looks back at the party hall for a moment, hesitating.
"If you want to go back, we totally can." Wells offers, letting go of the boy's arm.
He just shakes his head quickly, "anywhere but there." He squeaks, brows lowering in light-hearted submission.
"Then let's explore!" Wells cries into the streetlamp-lit snowbanks.
"Yeah," Arobyn says, a little less enthusiastic but his gaze meets Wells's. "Yes!" he repeats, worries melting from his eyes.
Wells can't help but chuckle as he gathers a handful of snow. He gently throws it at Arobyn, who, for a moment looks genuinely confused before a small grin overtakes his features, "oh it's on." He says, compacting a snowball and tossing it at Wells, who dodges.
"Missed me," he laughs.
Arobyn grins wider, "Only by a little,"
"That's what you think."
"'Cause it's the truth, big guy," Arobyn says, eyes lively and adventurous once again. He attempts to shove Wells's face into a small pile of snow and Wells lets him, knowing he's much stronger and could easily destroy the boy.
"HA, didn't miss that time," Arobyn cackles, voice cracking loudly. Wells freezes for a moment, looking at Arobyn whose face turns beet red, before both start dying of laughter.
The awkwardness from the spilled punch slowly slips into the night as they laugh, hitting each other with clumps of the white flakes. Wells knows he trusts too easily but suddenly he feels at home and comfortable with Arobyn; the two just click, and that kinda scares Wells.
But fuck it. If they're all gonna die soon, why not have fun when they can?
"Got you!" Arobyn laughs, surprising Wells with an attack from behind. The boy dumps snow down Wells shirt and he can't help but hiccup in shock. Arobyn smiles at Wells's taken aback face.
"Ah-aa fuck," he curses, which makes Arobyn giggle even louder. Wells smirks, untucking his shirt to let the slushy snow fall onto the ground. He bends down quickly, grabbing a heap of snow and hitting a still-cackling Arobyn in the face.
He slips to the ground, laughing in a mess of tangled limbs. Wells grins, falling down onto the white beside him, the both of them cackling their heads off.
Arobyn laughs, but it's not exactly like what is normally thought of with a chuckle. His laugh, instead, stems from his eyes, his face beaming into a vision of calm amusement.
Yet. It isn't simply just in his face, it's his whole demeanor. A hidden demeanor, yes, but it's there.
Just being around him for a few minutes was better than a whole day of self-absorbed pampering by Capital shit. Just the sound of his giggles is enough to steal Wells away from his worries and stress.
And that's terrifying.
Absolutely terrifying.
The pair lay there for a while, chatting about the stupidest things, before Amora, Arobyn's mentor, comes out of the Party Hall to bust the pair of 'em. Neither can help but grin as she drags them both back to the stuffy, noisy party room.
Wells feels glad to have made a friend, even if it's just for just the desperate time they're going to be in the Capital.
Lapis Jademoore
District 12 Female
Age 16
Welcome Party
"They are seriously crazy," Azalea motions to the pair from Six, noticing Lapis's gaze.
Lapis takes a casual sip of her drink, "I don't know… they're just having fun."
Azalea nods, raising her eyebrow slightly. Lapis looks back at her, studying the girl who had taken a liking to standing beside Lapis's table. Azalea's dark hair sits, beautifully plaited down her back and tied with two red ribbons. Her stunning, bronze skin shimmers under the flashing lights, coupled with a pair of wide, curious eyes.
If the pair hadn't been sent to their death, Lapis probably would have tried her shot with the girl. But that's not the case and so, Lapis finds herself needing to focus on what matters. She has obligations back in Twelve and has to make it home, no matter what. So many people are relying on her to win, she can't have any distractions… but having fun isn't the same as being distracted?
She wants, much more than she'd like to admit, to join the pair from Six and forget all her responsibilities. But she can't… sponsors are watching her every move and doing something like that could make them erase her name from their potential gifting list.
"Lapis? You ok?" Azalea asks, worry ringing through her voice.
"Yeah, I'm fine." Lapis sighs, shaking her expression away from longing (which Azalea had undoubtedly seen).
"You want to join them, don't you?"
She's right on the money.
So, Lapis doesn't respond for a moment, eyes set on the boys from Eight and Three who chat naturally, to avoid eye contact with Azalea, "Yeah, maybe."
"Go on then, do it, these games SUCK, might as well have a little fun when you can."
"But sponsors…" Lapis starts but Azalea already is pushing her towards the dance floor.
"Fuck sponsors," Azalea grins, "I'll be here afterward."
Lapis grins, lips turning into the first actual smile she had made since the day of the reaping. "Fuck them." She nods, slipping past bodies of mentors and tributes alike and onto the dance floor.
The girl from Six looks at her for a moment, stopping her dancing. She narrows her dark eyes, auburn hair tied behind her head in a ponytail. Lexus, the girl, looks at her District partner, shrugging.
"I'm Lapis," she smiles.
"Like the gem?" Talyn asks.
"You know it," Lapis laughs and he nods.
"You can call me Tal," he grins, running a hand through his dark hair before returning to his drink-
Which is red, punch; non-alcoholic.
He hasn't been drinking? Tal smiles at her, head-bobbing to the beat chiming from across the room. "Nice to meet you," he says, eyes set on his district partner.
Lapis smiles at him, turning back to the girl who stays staring at her. Her expression looks broken and foggy; clearly, she's drunk. "Hie," she slurs, nodding.
If he's sober… did he stay sober to make sure she didn't do anything stupid? That's why he won't leave her side… that or... Lapis shutters. No definitely not, he seems too nice for that. They were too close, chatting and laughing before the party had even started, no way.
Lapis looks between Tal and Lexus, sighing. "Hey, can I take Lexus back to the penthouse?" she asks, as much as she'd love to party- this girl did not look good. She isn't her responsibility but something in Lapis's brain kicks into action, having taken care of her parents several times while they were intoxicated.
"Actually, that would be awesome, I didn't want to leave her to do something bad, or stupid when she's drunk," he says honestly, "but I need to talk to the boy from Eleven," he chuckles, grinning, "I'd love it if you could but if you can't that's alright."
"Of course." Lapis grits her teeth, why should she help them? This is a game for one- she shouldn't have to care for a girl she just met but something in her chest burned at the idea of leaving them.
"Lapisssss." The girl smiles, pronouncing her name wrong and making the 's' way too drawn out.
"Com'on." Lapis grabs her shoulders lightly, "you've had enough for tonight,"
She starts to protest but stops when Tal shoots her a look. "Ok," she nods, bouncing her head once more.
Lapis drags the girl through the crowd, smiling at Azalea before leaving, heading out of the doors and into the snow. It's dark but bright, auburn streetlights lead a path up to the tribute penthouse.
The pair take a few steps towards the tall tower before Lexus slips through Lapis's arms and into the snow, groaning. Her dress is instantly soaked by the wet and icy ground, which makes her utter a series of uncomfortable grunts.
Lapis quickly adjusts her grip on her shoulders, helping Lexus gently to her feet. "Com'on-n," she says through chattering teeth.
The walk to the penthouse isn't easy but Lapis has done it so many times, she's just used to having to deal with drunk people. Lexus doesn't seem to want to go up to her floor, digging her heels into the ground as Lapis drags her through the tribute lobby. "Lexus," she says softly, "you need rest, just a little farther,"
"Nononono-o," she stutters, her words swaying together.
"Why not?"
"Ijustsayuhweum,"
"You haven't had any alcohol before, have you? Took too much, com'on, you need to sleep."
Lexus doesn't say anything, just watches Lapis push the big 6 on the golden elevator panel. Lapis can't help but roll her eyes, people back in Twelve are starving to death, yet, the Capital has enough money for golden elevators. She hates it so god damn much.
Ding!
The elevator sounds, doors opening to reveal the girl from Eight, her brunette curls blowing gently in a small draft. She holds a dark red book in her right hand and a mysterious look in her eyes.
"Don't tell anyone you saw me, please? Amora will kill me,"
"Never saw a thing." Lapis chuckles, leading Lexus into the elevator as the girl steps out. She disappears to the left of the lobby as the golden doors shut.
The golden shaft spins up in the blink of an eye and quickly they are on the sixth floor.
Lapis sighs, dragging the intoxicated girl to the bathroom, nodding as Lexus pukes up her entire dinner in the toilet.
This is gonna be a long night, fuck.
A/N: Annnnnd I'm back again, part two to the double halloween update :)
I'm going to kill all your tributes in the pre games, fight me, and also have a good day/night/afternoon.
Bye for now (again),
Marie.