XXXIX. Twin Flame Bruise

So likewise this Intelligence diffuses
Its virtue multiplied among the stars.
Itself revolving on its unity.

Atlantis Seasbane came into this world like a perfect storm.

Two parents who never loved one another, much less her, and a twin brother who she could never possibly be better then. Why did she ever bother?

She doesn't know how or why she was able to make it to eighteen years, 'cause she was always meant to sink instead of swim.

If anything, she's destined to sail away from a world which would be better off forgetting about her. If anything, the world should've never known her at all.

Yet everyone in Four knows her name anyway, and everyone in Panem knows her face during times of dread, leaving Atlantis to wonder, how the hell did any of this happen?

Calsin's brought her over to a field of flowers. He's picking at the petals of one in a vibrant purple hue as he looks over her tired, wretched, body. One that never should've been hers in the first place.

"Are you sure you don't want anything to eat?" He offers for the third time in the past hour, holding a sleeve of crackers up to her mouth.

Atlantis nods. "I'm fine."

"Are you sure?" Calsin presses. "You said that you haven't had anything to eat since yesterday."

"That's true," she says with a sigh. "In case you haven't noticed, I'm kind of content with starving to death over here."

He frowns. "It takes at least a few weeks for the average person to starve to death. Based on the way things are going 'round here, you'll be murdered before you get the chance."

"That's a really odd way of telling me that you're going to kill me," Atlantis spurts out with a hint of sarcasm.

"I've already made it clear that I'm not going to kill you," he quickly responds. "Can you at the very least trust me on that?"

"Fuck no," is what she wants to say, but when she moves her lips, no words come out. That's because, in spite of what she's believed for her entire life, in spite of everything that's ever been true, she does trust Calsin. Well, maybe trust's a strong word for it; she still hardly knows the guy, but at the current moment, she wholeheartedly believes that he has no intention to kill her.

So instead, Atlantis says, "I trust you!"

"Hell yeah!"A satisfied smile springs on his lips. "Does that mean that you're going to eat now? Because you just said it, you trust me..."

"I've already told you, I'm fine," she refuses him, but the unsettling gurgle of her stomach betrays her.

"You're not fine." Calsin hands her one of the crackers. "I fuckin' knew it."

"What gave it away?" She rolls her eyes as she takes her first bite. It tastes unbelievably stale, but that's oddly a nice change of pace compared to all the fancy food in the Capitol, so rich in flavor she has trouble digesting it.

"Physically? That was your stomach making a noise that nearly convinced me somebody just died." He lightly giggles. "Mentally? Well, you've said no less than a dozen times that you want to die within the past two hours."

"That was a rhetorical question," Atlantis sneers, though her tone indicates that she's not actually upset with him. "You think you're hilarious, don't you?"

"I don't think I'm hilarious, I know I am," he responds, a loud burp nearly cutting off his voice.

"I'm glad one of us thinks so," she deadpans. Without thinking, her hands gravitate towards the package of crackers as she removes one and sticks it between her teeth.

"I was right, you were hungry," Calsin enthuses. "You know, there's no law which says you have to disagree with me about everything, especially now that we don't want each other dead."

"How do you know I'm not planning on killing you as soon as I finish eating this blissfully mediocre unsalted cracker?" She jests, nearly unable to take herself seriously.

"That goes back to what I was saying," he responds. "You're way too busy saying that you want to die to kill me, isn't that right?"

"I still do," Atlantis admits, her voice suddenly softening.

There's hardly been a time where she didn't desperately want herself dead. Even as a child, Atlantis would fantasize about what it's like to be six feet under and playing poker with the devil. The idea of leaving the world she was so utterly cursed to be born into has always been tempting, especially when her days were filled with her mother berating her 'cause acts looks too similar to the man who failed to love her.

(She wishes she could say that her mother's the one who turned her into this monster. She wishes she could say it's her father, or Shane, even. She wishes she could say it was anybody besides herself.)

Not being alive is the relief Atlantis craves (though does not deserve). Why is it so hard for people to see that? You'd think that with the amount of time I've spent telling people they deserve to die, it'd be more obvious that I'm so desperate to be the next to go.

(It's funny how people place such little value on the lives of others until it's time for them to end.)

"Why's that?" Calsin matches her somber tone. "I mean, obviously you don't have to tell me, but there's not much else for you to do. I can't really help you if I don't know what's going on."

"I don't want your help," she mutters. "I thought you were smart enough to realize that by now."

"Doesn't mean you don't need it," he quickly retaliates. "I'm not saying that you need to dump all of your trauma on me. In fact, you probably shouldn't do that, but still talking about how you feel can be helpful."

"Who taught you that?" Atlantis scoffs. "Aren't you supposed to be an edgy asshole?"

"My boyfr—" He stops himself from continuing, which makes her chuckle. "A good friend of mine."

"You just said boyfriend," she teases him. "I didn't know somebody was capable of committing to putting up with you to that degree."

"He's just a friend, I swear," Calsin says, but his eyes reveal that he wishes they were more. "You're doing a damn good job at avoiding your problems, by the way."

"Why thank you, it's my specialty!" She pops another cracker into her mouth and laughs.

"I can tell," he sarcastically groans. "Would it be more helpful if I started with my life?"

"Knock yourself out." Atlantis rolls her eyes, not wanting to admit that she somewhat cares about whatever grand and miserable tale he's about to say.

"Well, it all started when I was born on November 2nd—"

"You're fucking kidding me." Before he Calsin can say anything else, Atlantis interrupts him.

"I'm not?" He replies, raising his brow in confusion. "Why would I kid about when I was born?"

"That's my birthday," she says.

"Congratulations," Calsin deadpans. "You know, two people can have the same birthday."

"I know," she snaps back. "I have a twin brother."

"Whoah there!" He holds up his hands frantically. "Suddenly I'm your twin brother?"

"You've literally met Talquin." Atlantis sighs.

"Sure did," he says with a smile. "He's hot, by the way."

"His girlfriends think the same thing," she deadpans.

"Multiple?" Calsin's jaw drop. "That's insane of him. I respect a straight man with a good hustle."

"He's bi." She corrects him, though she's not sure why since he clearly has his own love interest back at home. "What's it matter to you?"

"It doesn't." He smirks, "I'm just getting you to share."

If he's manipulating me right now, he's sure being a lot nicer about it than Icarus was, Atlantis thinks. Unfortunately, or maybe it's fortunately, she knows he isn't. Even though this is the most the two of them have talked to one another in their entire lives, she feels like she already knows him.

"Good work," she says. "But get back to the time you copied me and decided to be born on November 2nd."

"I'm the youngest of five kids," Calsin continues. "Or in other words, I'm probably an accident."

"So was I," she admits. "Or at least I like to think that I was. My parents really aren't the sort of people who should've had kids."

"Neither are mine," he says. "Actually, they were good enough to my two eldest brothers as well as my sister, but they all have sticks up their asses, so maybe that's why they got along."

"What about you and the other brother?" Atlantis hates that she's actually somewhat interested in what he's saying. "I take it they weren't fond of little shits?"

"Nope!" Calsin awkwardly blurts out. "But that's fine; everything is fine!"

"No, it isn't," she says, mimicking his voice from earlier when she refused to eat. "What happened to you and your youngest older brother?"

"Touché." He nods his head. "It wasn't one event in particular per say, but rather consistent clashing of our attitudes and theirs."

"You're being too vague for me to get what you're putting down," Atlantis admits. "If they're abusive, you can just say that."

"Well, congrats, they were." Again, Calsin sounds far too enthusiastic, almost like he's mocking his own despair. "They were real big fans of all the whale bullshit that Shane Odeen would go on and on about, and expected Sev and I to be just the same."

Shane.

Just his name makes Atlantis uncomfortable. To think, she actually was sure that somebody believed in her. How fucking idiotic.

"I never quite understood his hyper-fixation with whales." She looks down and realizes that she's finished all of the crackers. Calsin doesn't seem to mind.

He widens his face in shock. "You mean to say, Shane never told you?"

"No?" Atlantis twitches.

"Yet he expected you to be the messiah?" Calsin says with a disbelieving and distrusting tone. "Lord, he's more of a clown than I thought he was."

"Yeah," she replies. "He sort of is the worst."

"You think I don't know that?" He laughs at her. "The only reason I'm here is because Shane is convinced that you need to prove yourself a worthy savior."

Her heart nearly stops.

She's had a growing feeling that her existence was the only reason Calsin's in the Games considering he left the Academy when he was fifteen or so and he's never had the same ruthless energy as the other trained kids. Atlantis figured that Shane also had something to do with it, because again, Calsin clearly has never wanted to be here. Listening to him confirm what she had so desperately hoped wasn't true is enough to break her heart.

Atlantis assumed that Shane had every intention for Calsin to die, but she never considered that he wanted her to be the one who killed her. She now feels even worse for being so vile to him in the Capitol.

"Yeah, it sucks doesn't it?" Calsin notices her silence and decides to continue talking. "And that's why I was so afraid of you at first, and was also kind of an asshole. I was convinced that you were going to kill me the second we stepped foot in that arena. Or at least I was until you screamed the night before, and then I began to think that maybe there's something going on with you. Well… I didn't think it at first because I was being a little shit, but then I realized maybe you have depth and aren't just angry all of the time."

"Thank you?" She's not exactly sure how she's supposed to respond to him. His concerns are definitely valid, as was his response. She reckons she'd do the same thing in his shoes. "Also, I'm sorry for somewhat tormenting you. I mean it."

"I appreciate that." Calsin nods. "I'm sorry for not listening when you first apologized. I was just really angry."

"And that's completely understandable!" Atlantis affirms him. "I'd be a nightmare if I was forced to go into a death match with the sole purpose of being killed by me."

There's a moment's pause before Calsin speaks again. "If you don't mind me asking, what exactly was it that was bothering you that last night?"

Atlantis takes in a deep breath. How much do I tell him? She rolls back the left sleeve of her shirt, trying her best to do it out of his line of sight. Her scabs have fallen off for the most part, but there's still pale lines on her wrists.

"I didn't really love the idea of Shane using me." She exhales. "I know you telling me that was more of a backhanded remark and not something meant to send me into a full-scaled panic, but it did anyway. Long story short, I overreacted until Crista came in and stopped me, and I'm still not sure I regret my decisions from that night."

"Oh my… Fuck. I'm so sorry." Despite her efforts, Calsin catches a glance at her wrist. "I didn't think that what I said would lead to—"

"Don't apologize," Atlantis interjects. "What I did to myself wasn't your fault, and besides, it's nice that I knew one way or another. I don't think Crista would've told me as directly as she did, had you not had your yelling fit beforehand."

"I still feel bad." He makes a disgusted look on his face, like he's unfamiliar with the feeling of owning his guilt. "I'm glad Crista was able to calm you down somewhat. She's a real sweetheart."

"Agreed, and yeah somewhat is the key word here," she clarifies. "I still did some things in the arena that I'm not too proud of. There's no excuse, but I think I just let my anger and vitriol towards the situation get the best of me. I somewhat made a fool out of myself, and I was convinced you still hated me which made me feel even worse. Because I figured, if I make it out, I won't have Shane anymore, and I feared your disgust for me represented a general consensus in Four."

Calsin nods, though she's not completely sure he understands. "I did things that I regret too."

Again, they fall into silence.

The arena's practically silent, nothing but the sound of the wind ruffling through the flowers to remind them that they're still alive.

For once, Atlantis doesn't particularly mind not being dead, even if she still deserves it.

"I'll tell you what I did if you tell me what you did," Calsin finally offers.

Atlantis smiles. "That's alright with me."

She never thought it would be by Calsin Verrillo's side, but at long last, Atlantis Seasbane is ready to come undone.

The aura between the two of them is inexplicably surreal.

Or maybe, maybe, surreal isn't the right word here because Calsin wants to, and does believe that everything he's saying and hearing is actually happening. He just never thought that he'd live to experience this moment of absolute clarity. Granted, that's also 'cause he never thought he'd be forced into this situation in general. Perhaps now it's not as awful as it could've been.

"I killed Ellie," Calsin admits to Atlantis, his entire body tense with nerves.

Strangely, the expression on her face doesn't change, making him somewhat worried for whatever "awful thing" she did was.

"You don't have any response to that?" Calsin eggs her on. "I was expecting you to at the very least, call me a little bitch for that."

Atlantis chuckles. "I should've realized you were into degradation by now."

"I am-fucking-not!" He gasps, pretending to be offended. "Though based on the way you talk about yourself, you really can't be one to judge."

"Shut the fuck up," she shouts.

"Maybe I would if you had a response to me telling you that I killed my own ally that doesn't involve kink-shaming me." He smirks, because he's not really mad. In fact, Calsin enjoys the way Atlantis is able to keep up with him in bouts of quick-witted banter, even if her perfectly timed insults come from an extremely toxic past.

Just as rapidly as everything else she's said today, Atlantis fires back with, "So you're admitting you have a degradation kink then?"

Calsin arches his back and laughs, his head in his hands. While his time with Ellie was without a doubt fun, their connection can already be considered surface level in comparison to what he's no found with Atlantis. He and the Two girl were only really able to joke about sex and drugs, but with Atlantis, Calsin is able to make fun of all the horrors he's experienced as a consequence of being alive, because he knows she's experienced either similar or the same, hence why she laughs too.

Though he's previously only seen himself in Atlantis Seasbane when it comes to his flaws, being with her now has allowed Calsin to see himself just as clearly in the brighter parts of her typically jet-black soul. He'd be lying if he said that he wasn't grateful that the Games managed to force a connection between him and his perfectly imperfect mirror.

"I'm sorry that you killed Ellie?" Atlantis cuts through their brief silence in a confused tone. "If you want, we can talk about it—" she pauses and laughs, "Oh my fuck; I sound like you."

"You sure do," Calsin nods. "But anyway— I still feel awful about the whole thing. "I didn't want to kill her, you know?"

"I actually didn't know that," Atlantis interjects. "But carry on."

"Right." He sighs. "So, there was this lake that she fell into and then it erased her memories so she was acting all weird, especially 'cause I was covered in the blood of this sea monster lookin' motherfucker we'd fought earlier, and maybe that's scary, I don't know. Anyway! She saw me all bloody and shit and she attacked me, and well… I was given no other choice."

That entire afternoon still feels like a blur to him. It's amazing and absurd that in less than half an hour, nearly everything could change. Here he was, so worried about sneaking away from Ellie 'cause he knew she was a liability, and then she up and gave him a reason to kill her.

(Her giving him a reason doesn't give him an excuse to have thought of killing her beforehand.)

"The Games are about survival above all else," Atlantis explains in an effort to reassure him. "You did what had to be done, and I don't blame you for not wanting to die that early on."

"It's not even that I killed her though," Calsin begrudgingly elaborates. "Even before Ellie attacked me, I was strongly considering getting up and letting her go. I realize this sounds so fucked up of me, but I've known from the moment I met her that I could easily take her in a fight. I could've, and almost did leave her alone in the middle of the night, because I knew she'd either fuck up on her own and get herself killed, or come at me, and I'd have cut her down just the same."

"Well, damn." Atlantis' eyes widen. "I hope you know that I'd kick your ass if you tried to pull that shit with me."

He nods. "You know I wouldn't."

"I do," she agrees. "Why did you want to leave Ellie in the first place?"

"I don't want to say." He sighs. "I mean, I will say it. It's just, mean. I don't want to sound like—"

"Like me?" Atlantis stammers, her tone an unclear indicator of whether or not she's actually offended.

"Yeah… Sorry…"

She balls her fingers into a fist and starts rapidly breathing. "Calm down… It's okay…" She whispers to herself.

"I didn't mean to offend you," Calsin offers.

"I know." Atlantis sighs. "Back to you. Why didn't you like Ellie?"

"I did like her," he insists. "She was just very lighthearted about the Games and everything, and she was honestly way better as a friend then as a companion in a killing match. It's not that she was incapable, but—"

"She was," Atlantis cuts him off. "She got a Four in training…"

"Because she peed herself, yeah." Calsin closes his eyes and shakes his head. "Okay, maybe she was incapable. But that's not the point; the point is… she's a way better friend then ally, but even then our conversations weren't too deep or anything. We'd sort of just joke around together."

"You know, you impress me," Atlantis says after pause. "You were able to talk about why you don't like somebody without completely ripping them to shreds and making them feel like shit about themselves if they were here. How do you do that?"

"I know you're not asking me of all people for tips when it comes to communication skills." He laughs. "I learned from my friend, if you have to know."

"The same friend you're dating but also not dating?" She asks, getting a kick out of the bright shade of red Calsin's face shifts into.

"You know it!" He answers, combatting his flustered expression.

Calsin wonders, is Adrian watching this right now? He's got no idea what else is going on in the arena, but with now only seven Tributes left, there's a good chance that he and Atlantis' conversation has gotten at least some screen time. The arena microphones have never been perfect in the past Games that he's watched, but surely a few fragments of their conversation has been broadcast across the nation.

(He's horrified about what the Collective is thinking right now. Surely Shane's parading around in his office, cursing Calsin's name for daring to speak ill of him, worse, tell Atlantis the reason of his presence in these Games. The fact that he's dead no matter what he does in this arena is daunting, and something he'd rather not think about.)

He hopes at the very least, that Adrian's proud of him. Calsin's always been prideful when necessary, so his friend's validation means more than his own. If there's not a chance in this world that he'll ever make Sevilin proud to be his older brother, Calsin would be more than happy to settle for being the subject of Adrian's musings as he walks around town.

(Or maybe he's already moved on. Maybe Adrian knows there's no point in staying loyal for somebody who's doomed to die eventually. If only I'd told him…)

There's no point in dwelling in "ifs." That's another thing Adrian taught him. Once again, he promises to himself, the first thing doing if I get somehow back and don't immediately die is telling him that I love him.

"I'll try that then," Atlantis says. "The whole, being more constructive if I have something to say about somebody."

"Yeah." Calsin shrugs. "I really recommend it."

They sit and stare at one another for a moment before he realizes, "You never told me what you did, you sly fuckin' fox."

She sighs. "That's true. I was honestly hoping you'd forget, 'cause—"

"Is it really that bad?" Once again, he's scared of whatever the fuck it is that she did. "I mean, maybe don't tell me if you think it's for the best and you really don't want to."

"I promised you." Atlantis replies. "Besides, the first step for atoning for your sins is to admit them to somebody else out loud. That's what Shane used to say at least when I fucked up during training."

"That's shockingly good advice for him," Calsin says with a laugh. "I'll sit down and listen to you if you're willing to share then."

"So when you found me, I was locked up in that guillotine chamber back at the cathedral," she begins. "I don't think it takes a genius to realize that it was Icarus who put me in there."

"Yeah, I'm fucking pissed at him for that," Calsin buts in. "I know you said you deserved to die in there, but that's just unbelievably cruel."

"I stand by what I said," she insists, not giving him any time to object again. "Because… not only did I help Icarus build the guillotine back when we were allies, I also took part in using it to kill somebody."

"Shit," he stammers through gritted teeth. "I mean, I'll do the same thing you did and say that people are supposed to kill people in here, but that's rough, I agree."

"It's rough, and it gets worse." Atlantis takes a deep breath. "Before I killed him, killed Beowulf, Ellie's partner, I tortured him. Not physically, though maybe that would've been better, because what I did do, was I joined Icarus in berating him for at least twelve hours. We pinpointed every single one of that poor boy's insecurities, and then when I tried to help at the very end, Icarus killed him without even thinking twice about it. He'd have done the same thing to me if it weren't for you. He already was doing a great job at the psychological warfare thing. Beowulf was an angel. He didn't deserve anything that I helped do to him, and I wholeheartedly believe that I deserve to die because of it. When I apologized to him, he told me that what I did was unforgivable, and he's right."

Calsin can tell that Atlantis is sincere in her confession. Her worlds are marred by self-loathing and an apologetic tone, though Beowulf is definitely right when he says that she can't be forgiven for what she's done. It almost shocks Calsin to see Atlantis of all people so incredibly condolent of a wrongdoing, and the old him would've said something sarcastic like, "serves her right," but now, he genuinely does hurt for her.

Maybe he shouldn't express compassion for somebody he hated two weeks ago, but from what he's heard, he gets the feeling that Icarus manipulated her into helping out with his twisted fantasies, because surely he knew it would get her to break.

Calsin doesn't want him to be right.

"First off, thank you for telling me all of that," he says after a sigh. "I never would've thought I'd see you apologizing for berating somebody, so you should be proud of yourself. I thought that you liked being a bitch, but you don't, don't you?"

"I really don't," Atlantis confesses. "It's just, all that I know. It's what my parents taught me and the only reason Shane took interest in me for all these years probably, and he definitely also manipulated me. It used to make me feel good when I watched somebody crumble because of what I said, but now I just feel awful about it. I don't want to be the villain in anybody's life, yet sometimes I get this urge to just lash out, and I can't fucking control it, so as a result, I snap, and then I hate myself after the fact. Over half of the shit I say about people nowadays isn't even true. I insult others because I'm too much of a fuckin' coward to admit that I'm the one who deserves to insult people and— holy shit I never thought I'd be admitting this to another person, what the fuck?"

Calsin should've honestly seen that coming. Every little piece of Atlantis Seasbane that he's collected over the years has pointed to signs of toxicity of a coping mechanism, but he was too stubborn about being on the receiving end of such venom to help her solve these problems that are so clearly ingrained in her soul.

"Wow," he says, a smile wide on his face. "I am so fucking happy you were able to tell me that."

"Is it bad if I say it's because talking to you feels like I'm talking to myself?" Atlantis asks, desperation in her eyes. "I don't know what it is about you, but I feel like I knew you in another life, and I spent too much time fighting that to actually open up and realize how well we could get along."

"It's not at all bad; I was thinking the exact same thing," Calsin replies. "Hell, I'm glad you feel this way, because all of this being one-sided would really fucking suck. I'm happy that I went with my gut and saved you. I knew there was something painful behind all of your bitterness, and I'm glad that you showed it to me before I could go down your same negative spiral."

"Of course. I wouldn't wish this mess of my mind on anybody." She smirks. "And hey, I think that I'm really grateful you saved me and didn't leave me to die."

That means more to him than he ever thought it would. There's no way to explain the sensation that burns in Calsin's stomach besides describing it as though he's on top of the fuckin' world, for once in his damned life.

A whistling noise sounds through the air, followed by a large silver package dropping down to their feet. Calsin catches it in his hands and asks Atlantis, "Do you want to open it?"

"Sure!" She grabs the package and begins tearing through the opening. The first thing she removes from the wrapping is a note, which she reads to Calsin out loud. "Kids, I am so proud of you for getting along. I'm shocked this has happened, but I'm really not complaining. Enjoy a nice meal, and then tomorrow, I look forwards to seeing this exciting new team in action. All the love, Crista."

Atlantis pulls out a picnic blanket and a large sandwich from the package. "She is so fucking nice, like holy shit."

"It's really something special," Calsin says, helping Atlantis lay the blanket over the flowers. He reaches inside the package and grabs a sandwich of his own, and then two large knives, which he lets fall on the ground.

He fiddles with one of the knives. "You know, I have a fun idea for what you and I can do tomorrow."

When she said she wanted action, this wasn't what she meant.

Granted, Hedy doubts that anybody actually wants to be wake up in a powder-blue room in the middle of fuck-knows-where, only to find out that not only are they strapped down in their chair, but they're also next to their least favorite person that isn't their physically abusive father.

At least the chair spins a bit, much like Hedy's desk chair did back in Three.

Ah, who's she kidding? There's absolutely zero silver lining to this new iteration of hell she's been forced to endure.

The first thing she does after waking up and taking in her new and unbearable surroundings is scream, as anyone would do if they were in her situation. Nothing that she says is at all comprehensible, but the disgusted grin on Verdigris' face makes her efforts feel fruitful.

"Can you please, for the love of all things unholy, shut the fuck up?" A tall woman with dark hair, says from the corner of the room. Upon looking at her more closely, Hedy identifies her to be the girl from District Six.

Hedy tries to cross her arms, but is unable to do to the whole being bound thing. "If you tell me where the hell I am and why I'm sitting next to this gremlin, I'll consider it." She looks over to see Verdigris rolling their eyes in exasperation. "What? Aren't you curious too?"

Her former ally remains silent, much like the elongated rat boy, from Six like the black-haired girl. It's odd though. While Verdigris' silence is exactly what the word implies, a complete lack absence of sound, their pathetic existence nearly fading, the Six boy's presence is somehow infuriating without him saying a single word. While the girl looks imposing in every single way, he's playing with a rubber ball and flashing a wicked smile to Hedy and Verdigris whenever it hits the ceiling.

"You're in the arena," the Six girl explains, talking down to Hedy as if she's a pathetic, craven child.

She pouts her lips. "Yeah, I've figured that one out. Thanks so much."

The girl glances over to her District partner and watches as he moves his lips, seemingly speaking his own language to her. She gives him an affirming nod, then whispers, "I don't know who she thinks she is either."

"You shouldn't talk about somebody behind their back if they're still close enough to hear you," Hedy says, her brow furrowing.

She hears Verdigris whisper, "Are you trying to get us both killed?"

Hedy tilts her head towards them and responds, "It involves us both dying, so maybe."

"You think we're going to kill you both in one foul swoop?" The Six girl says with a caustic laugh. "Why the hell would we do that?"

"Because that's sort of the whole point of the Hunger Games?" She questions her, even more fed-up than she thought was possible.

The boy taps her on the shoulder, Hedy noticing that he only has two fingers (and wishing she didn't notice) as he again, mouths something to his partner, who then announces, "Malin says that killing you both at the same time is boring."

Hedy sighs. "You know what? I'm not going to argue with you wastes of space. Either kill me or don't. I'm tired of this bullshit."

"Well, I'm not," the Six girl proclaims. "There's actually a really fun game that we've set up for you and Five to play today. Yes, that's right, a game within the Games!"

"Woo-hoo," she deadpans. "Does it involve me getting to kill them?"

"Stop saying you're going to kill me," Verdigris mutters, their voice clearly full of exhaustion. "Just do what they want us to do, and maybe then we'll be let out and you can do whatever you want on your own turns. Or, at the very least… just be less annoying until one of us is dead and I don't have to hear it."

Again, the boy mouths something. The Six girl ruffles his hair and pats him on the back, a sinister grin painted onto her face. "Yes, I agree, making the two of them fight to the death would be extremely boring. What do you say I introduce these two ladies to the main event of the afternoon?"

He nods eagerly, prompting the girl to walk over to one of the curtains on the wall. She gathered the cloth in a fistful and pulls it down to reveal a two giant charts of the human body with Hedy and Verdigris' faces crudely drawn over the heads.

"Would I be right in assuming that you two don't particularly like one another?" She asks the two of them, though it's clear that she's being rhetorical. When neither Hedy nor Verdigris answer, she continues. "Ah! I thought so. Well, luckily… Malin and I invented a fun little activity while you were getting your beauty rest. They wanted to force you two to play charades, but I thought it would be a whole lot more fun if we had some target practice."

"What the actual fuck do you mean?" Hedy asks, but she wishes she didn't as soon as the Six girl reaches into a supply cabinet to pull out a dozen or so throwing darts. She knows by now that there's no way in hell Six is going to have them throw the darts directly at one another. There's clearly something more twisted behind her cold black eyes, but maybe it would be for the better if Hedy never found out what that something was.

She isn't that lucky.

"I was hoping you would ask me that," the Six girl enthuses. "The way this game works is… you and your little not-friend are going to take turns throwing darts at the picture of one another. Whichever one of you makes contact with the most vital organs on your opponent's drawing wins a special surprise. Or rather, the privilege of watching us perform a special surprise."

Hedy doubts that she'll like whatever the fuck Six's definition of a surprise is. Unamused, she continues to pester the taller girl. "What's preventing me from throwing the darts at either them or one of you two idiots?"

The boy smiles, the walks over to Hedy's chair and wraps his hands around the back. He wheels her over to the front of the room and whips out a small knife, which he then holds to Hedy's throat.

The Six girl laughs. "Well, I wouldn't do that if I were you. If you even try to hit one of us, or your friend instead of hitting the target like our rules stipulated, well let's just say it'll be game over really quickly.

"It's hard for me to aim with his head in my face," Hedy grunts.

Six shrugs. "Did you hear me ask?"

"No, I did not," she admits with a sigh.

Despite all of this being set up to destroy either her or Verdigris, Hedy Lovelace has bigger plans. She has a feeling that one way or another, this little activity isn't going to be as fair as is being advertised. If they're almost certainly going to play unfairly, what's preventing her from doing the same?

(Perhaps, the fact she's on their territory and it's their game, not hers. Perhaps, the fact that she has a limited range of motion and one wrong move could end with her head falling off her neck. Call her gusty all you want, but perhaps Hedy no longer cares.)

Her pride just may be the death of her, but she'd rather try to do something to alter what could already be a predestined chain of events than sit idly by and wait to die. She sat and did nothing for twelve years as her father wreaked havoc over her childhood, and look where it got her? After all, Hedy never makes the same mistake twice.

"So," the Six girl drawls. "Which one of you two would like to throw the first dart?"

Hedy exchanges a glance with Verdigris, practically dominating them with just her eyes.

"She can go first," they speak up, their breath shaky.

The Six boy hands Hedy a dart and positions her a bit further away from the drawings, his knife still nearly cutting through the skin on her neck.

"I trust you know better than to not play by our rules," his partner asks Hedy.

She nods. "Of course."

Hedy lifts the dart by her ear and muses, Neither of them said anything prohibiting me from making up my own rules…

She watches as the Sixes stare at one another, schemes swirling in her mind as she comes up with the best angle to take with what she'll do next.

Hedy Lovelace may be tied down. She may be without a blade and on the verge of being headless, but she still has the one thing she needs to be successful.

As long as she's able to speak, there's nothing in this whole arena that's capable of stopping her.

"Wait, before I start, I have a question for you!" Mozi sighs as the Three girl shrieks from her chair. "I don't mean to bug you, but I just really could use some clarification."

She glances down at Malin who rolls their eyes and mouths, "Why is she so annoying? That's my job!"

"You could never annoy me," she whispers to her ally, then looks Three dead in the eyes. "What is it this time?"

"I was just wondering," the girl begins, her eyes far more wide and eager than they were mere moments ago. "Why did you really decide to turn this whole kidnapping thing into a game?"

Mozi remembers when she was far younger and just like Three. She'd spend hours in her father's father, asking him question after question until she wasn't sure whether or not she was actually interested in learning about surgery or just wanted to annoy him.

"Why do you break people's noses before you fix them? That sounds counter-intuitive, don't you think."

"Is it really safe to stick a wad of silicone under somebody's skin? If it pops, that wouldn't be very good, now would it?"

"How does the stuff in that syringe prevent people from getting wrinkles? What would happen if I put it in my armpit?"

While at first, Xunzi Hongqi seemed ecstatic to answer his daughter's questions, soon she could tell that she was grating on him, a feeling she loathed. But of course, Mozi couldn't help being so darned curious, so again and again she'd ask question after question, hoping that someday she'd be smart enough to follow in her father's footsteps, or even become a better plastic surgeon than him.

At some point, he seemed to also think that one day she'd surpass him, and that of course did not make the man very happy.

She thought she was going to once again watch him operate on a client the day he smashed her nose in with a hammer.

"Don't worry Mozi," her father had said, a gleeful look on his face despite the fact he was torturing a thirteen-year-old child. "I'm going to fix it right up, and you can watch too."

She watched in horror as her father reconstructed her nose, only to break it again a week later and force her to sit through the same thing.

Liezi, that sick fuck, was jealous too. She begged father, "How come I don't get to be operated on like Mozi."

"That's because you're perfect just the way you are," he had told her. "If you want though, you can help me make your sister just as perfect as you are!"

Needles under her flesh and bruises all over her body, Mozi's father and sister destroyed her again and again, just so that they could fix her up again and claim to be her savior. It was only a matter of time before she had enough for it. Curiosity may kill the cat, but Mozi Hongqi was determined to become a lioness instead.

Her only regret is not running sooner.

She sighs, bothered by Three's question. Why did her and Malin come up with their silly little dart game again? Was it boredom from waiting for her and Five to wake up? Now that she thinks of it, Mozi's pretty sure the initial plan was to have the two girls slowly torture one another. She's not sure why at some point it just randomly became a game.

"I already said, because it's more fun this way." Mozi rolls her eyes at the girl for what seems like the billionth time that day. She hates that she can't hate her because she sees so much of herself in her, long before she was corrupted by society's demons.

Three sighs, unsatisfied. "Yeah that just… still makes no sense to me. I'd think you'd want to kill as many people as quickly as possible."

"Well, I knew I was going to kill you anyway, so I figured I'd have some fun with it," Mozi fires back.

The tone in her voice when she said the word "fun" is familiar to her.

"Oh, fixing up Mozi will be so much fun!"

"Oh Mozi, what I have planned for you today is going to be so much fun!"

"Don't worry Mozi. You're the one who's curious about so much. This is going to be fun!"

Fuck.

Maybe she was right when she initially thought it was too late for her after all and there was never a chance in hell that she wouldn't fall victim to her father's most hideous vices.

"It wasn't your idea, was it?" The Three girl nearly taunts her.

"What wasn't?" Mozi raises a brow.

Three just smiles. "Playing a game. I know you wanted to just get to the killing immediately. It was him who wanted to make a game out of all of this?"

The girl's blue eyes glare daggers at Malin.

How the hell did she figure that out? She thinks as she watches them mouth something.

"Yeah it was me, so what?" Malin moves their lips. "I just wanted to make everything more fun."

"What does it matter if it was their idea or mine?" Mozi stands her ground. "Malin and I are a united front."

"Are you sure?" Three asks. "You seem a lot more serious than he is. You don't really want all of this nonsense, do you? You just want to go home as quickly as possible when push comes to shove. You're just trying to live. You're wasting your time with these mini-games, and you know it too."

She sighs. Why is she right?

Mozi's nearly embarrassed as she considers Rangani's thoughts throughout this. She can't help but think that she's let her lover down by turning to entertainment instead of productivity. She promised her after all, she'd be no-nonsense until she returned back to Six. She'd make an impact with the Kadenza's body during private sessions, but that would be the end of her tomfoolery. She swore that Rangani was her priority, so why now has that suddenly changed?

Why now is she doing things for fun when she should be doing things to get back to safety?

Malin.

Is she really doing all of this for them? Is she really borderline confirming that she's her father's daughter just to appease somebody she's hardly known for two weeks?

This isn't like her, and she knows it too.

"Why aren't you saying anything?" Three continues egging her on. "Is it because I'm right, maybe?"

"Give me time to think," Mozi hisses. Her vision goes red as she pulls at her hair in frustration. What the actual fuck is happening to me? Why don't I know who I am anymore?

Why did she give into schadenfreudic fantasies at the worst possible time? Mozi knew early on that she was falling into a hole, so why the hell did she keep fucking digging?

(Because beneath it all, she's still a child. She's still young, broken, and terrified, because she doesn't want to be the subject of her father's terrors for another night. She doesn't want her suffering to be the reason a sick bastard like him feels joy. She just wants to be a kid again. She just wants to have ownership of the word "fun" without being worried her eyes will be ripped from their sockets for the sake of entertainment.)

Now was not the time for her to give into her repressed inner-child, and she should've realized it sooner.

"You're wrong, by the way," Mozi sneers at the Three girl. "I'm doing this because I want to. I'm playing this game because I think it's fun, and that's enough for me."

All of the bullshit she's spewing makes her feel sick. She's not a child, and she doesn't deserve to have fun anymore when the only fun she's ever known has just been a code word for her immense pain and suffering.

She lives for herself and Rangani. It's just the two of them against the world, and nobody else deserves to interfere. How stupid was she to think that she could widen her heart to fit one more person inside.

(Maybe Malin's just like father, and their definition of fun will end with her blood on their hands if she continues to give in to their unbridled chaos. Maybe Judas was right when he said that Malin was no good for her.)

No. Fuck.

I can't do this!

The bullshit ends now. It has to end now.

Mozi unleashes a guttural scream, scaring Malin enough that their entire body shakes.

She sighs as they mouth, "What are you doing?"

Tears dwell in her eyes but Mozi Hongqi can't bring herself to fully cry, nor can she bring herself to apologize to them before tearing the knife out of their hand and plunging it deep into their stomach.

Haha… Ha… ha ha ha…

I um… had a long AN in my head, but I conveniently forgot it so I guess you will all have to cope with this cliffhanger.

Fuck this shit, I'm out,
Linds