Night Four, 9:44 PM
Location: Central Fountain


Dean sighed, shifting his injured shoulder. He winced as a sharp pain shot through it - evidently, he'd moved it too far. It hurt worse than he'd ever thought something could hurt; sure, he'd been injured in training, but nothing quite this bad. They'd done their best to wrap it up, but Chiffon and Cecil weren't exactly doctors.

"Do you want a hand?" Chiffon asked, resting his chin on Dean's good shoulder.

"Yeah that'd be nice,"

Chiffon began nimbly adjusting the bandages, humming a quiet tune Dean didn't recognize as he worked. Dean sighed again, leaning against Chiffon as he surveyed the area. Cecil was curled up nearby on the ground in a sleeping bag, either fast asleep or doing a good job of faking it.

"There you go," Chiffon said as he sank down to sit next to Dean on the block of concrete.

"How's your face?" Dean asked, peering over at the cut on Chiffon's cheek. It didn't seem too bad, but Dean was worried it'd get infected or worsen.

"Fine enough," Chiffon laughed, leaning his temple against Dean's shoulder. "I just hope it doesn't scar."

"I don't think that's the biggest of your worries right now," Dean replied with a wry smile. At least they could laugh about it- there weren't many things to laugh at anymore.

"Maybe not, but it's still important to me! It's ruining my stunning looks."

"Chiffon, you're covered in blood and mud and who knows what else,"

"You didn't have to say that," Chiffon pouted. "My feelings are hurt!"

"Oh. Sorry."

Chiffon placed a hand in the middle of his back. "I'm not really offended, it's okay," Chiffon said softly.

"Oh," Dean blinked, shifting awkwardly. There was a long pause as they sat in silence for a few moments. Dean wasn't quite sure what to do or even what to say next. Fortunately, Chiffon fixed that problem.

"So we're going to the feast right?"

Dean blinked at his ally for a moment, unsure how to respond. He didn't know if it was worth the risk, especially considering Chiffon was injured. There was no way they would be the only people going, and Dean wasn't sure they were ready to face the other Careers in the state they were in. Sure, Mystic and Reign had retreated last time, but Dean knew there was no guarantee they could drive them off again. At the same time, they didn't have many other options. Between the three of them, they were quickly burning through whatever food they had; if they didn't go, they risked giving up potentially valuable supplies. Dean wasn't really sure what the right answer was.

"I don't know Chiffon," Dean replied, after a long moment of thinking. "I don't know if it's worth it."

"We can't just sit around here forever, twiddling our thumbs."

"I know that, but-"

"And we've barely found anybody on our patrols, much less killed anybody. This is a perfect chance to be real Careers!" Chiffon exclaimed, throwing his hands up in the air.

"I understand that," Dean affirmed. "But we need to be careful. I'm injured, and I don't want to slow you and Cecil down."

"But-"

"Keep it down!" Cecil called, rolling over to face the two from his spot on the ground. He looked decidedly displeased as he wiggled his way out of his sleeping bag, glaring at them. Chiffon muffled a laugh with his hand as Dean waved at the boy.

"Good morning," Dean greeted Cecil. "I hope you had a good nap."

"I didn't," Cecil sighed, padding his way over to where they sat. "What are we talking about?"

"Plans about going to the feast," Dean replied.

"Do you want to help us decide?" Chiffon asked. Cecil nodded, taking a seat to Dean's right. Dean blinked at Chiffon, who didn't seem to notice his surprise. Chiffon had never seemed particularly keen on including Cecil before, but somehow the dynamic of the group had shifted. Dean wasn't bothered about it- in fact, he was somewhat grateful for it. At the very least the two healthy, functional people were somewhat getting along.

The last thing Dean wanted was to drag them both down. To be a burden. He wasn't here to be carried; he was here to pull his own weight.

And what would he be if he couldn't even do that?

"So do we have any plans yet?" Cecil asked, cracking his knuckles loudly.

"Not exactly," Dean shook his head. "We probably need to go though."

"Hmm," Cecil hummed. "Well, I feel like everyone else is gonna go early, right?"

"Right." Chiffon nodded. "And?"

"Why don't we wait? There's no use in going early and picking a fight with somebody- it'd just tire us out, right?" Cecil asked. "We're more than equipped to take on most of the people in the Arena, but that doesn't mean that we have to."

The two Careers exchanged a glance before Chiffon responded. "That's a pretty smart idea, kid," Chiffon grinned. "I don't see why we can't wait. It's not like we're all that far away from the Cornucopia anyways."

"Yeah!" Cecil exclaimed, smiling toothily. The boy stood, stretching his arms far above his head as he padded off towards the fountain.

As soon as Cecil was out of earshot, Chiffon leaned over to whisper into Dean's ear. "That was odd."

"I think he got smarter," Dean shrugged.

"Maybe that's not such a bad thing." Chiffon got to his feet. "We should figure out who's taking watch tonight, it's getting dark."

"I can do it!" Cecil exclaimed, wandering back over from the fountain, his hair soaking wet.

"I won't say no to that," Chiffon laughed, offering Dean a hand. The two made their way towards the small clearing they'd set up camp in and settled in for the night As Chiffon got comfortable in his sleeping bag, he pushed his back up against Dean's, their chests rising and falling in unison. It was peaceful, the crickets and bugs buzzing quietly in the late evening, and Chiffon's back against his own was reassuring in a way Dean couldn't explain. Something told Dean this would be the final moment of peace they found.

Dean had no choice but to accept that.


Night Four, 1:08 AM
Location: Unknown


Pluto leaned against the tree, wrapping his arm securely around his legs and pulling his knees up to his chin. He tried to convince himself to sleep, that his dreams would be more pleasant than reality, but he didn't want to see something that he couldn't make real. His eyes would open, and he'd still be in the middle of this nightmare, far from everything he'd ever known.

Never had Pluto Valence felt more alone than he did sitting there in the dark.

He'd never been afraid of the dark as a kid. He didn't have that luxury; even if he went running to his parents in the middle of the night, he wouldn't have received any comfort. They were too busy with their lives, and so Pluto had to learn how to deal with his problems on his own. It wasn't like they didn't care- they cared so much that they wanted to provide him with a nice life and left Pluto without them. And now all of that work and care would be for nothing.

He wanted to go back to his parents and his friends. He didn't want to see more people die. He'd already lost his allies, the friends he'd been able to make, and now he was alone, useless as ever. What could he even accomplish on his own? Pluto doubted he could do much, especially in this pitiful state. Hot tears welled over in his eyes and spilled down his face. Did he want to go home? Want his friends back? Want things to be different?

It didn't matter what he wanted. Pluto was destined to die here alone.

Pluto rubbed the back of his hand along his face, dragging the tears along with it. As he did, he heard something curious through the quiet sounds of the night. A beeping noise- the same noise that had accompanied the gift he received a few days prior. Pluto craned his neck to look up; above him, steadily moving closer, was a small, blinking light.

He fumbled in the dark, making his way out from beneath the cover of the tree. Cold rain fell in droplets on his arms and face as he stood in the middle of the clearing, the package drifting down for him to grab. He carefully opened the box and pulled out a small, smooth stone, somehow glowing intensely. Wrapped around it was a slip of paper which Pluto unrolled, hunching over to read as to ensure none of the dripping water ruined it.

Tap the light to turn it on or off as you need.

I'm proud of you for getting this far. Remember your promise.

Pluto turned the paper over, seeing no signature, but he didn't need one to know who'd sent this. It was Revan- of course it was Revan.

"Remember my…" Pluto said softly to himself, as he turned the stone over in his hand. It illuminated the entire area around him- the tree he crouched beneath, the glint of water dripping from the leaves, distant branches waving in the wind. He didn't remember making a promise to Revan, or to anyone else. But, as he thought on it further, something just on the edge of his memory came to him.

"Don't say that, it sounds too much like a promise."

"Well then I promise!" Pluto murmured.

"You can't do that. I believe in you, if that means anything, but really there's no need to promise."

Gripping the stone like a lifeline in his hand, Pluto clambered to his feet. He couldn't give up that easily, couldn't keep sitting in the mud and rain doing nothing but pitying himself. Pluto couldn't - no wouldn't go back to that state of despair and pity. He had to try to be strong. Even if his chances of winning were slim, he still had a chance, and Pluto was determined to make the most of it.

Maybe Pluto Vallence wasn't quite as alone as he thought he was.


Day Five, 6:04 AM
Location: East Waterpark


Carter looked up, turning his knife over between his fingers. Their fire had gone out what felt like hours ago at this point. The rain had only intensified since he'd started watching it; itt was coming down in sheets now, pouring down harder than any rain Carter had ever seen. He knew it likely wasn't natural - some kind of play by the Gamemakers - but that didn't make it any less unnerving.

Humming to himself, Carter continued turning his knife over and over between his fingers. This was… certainly quite a situation he'd found himself in, but at least he wasn't entirely alone. He turned to check on Nugua's sleeping form nearby, barely makking out the dark outline of her back. She was a good enough ally, filling the time with all kinds of stories of her home and the people she grew up with, and Carter had just as many stories about his own siblings to exchange. It took his mind off everything in the present, but distractions only worked for so long.

Carter was still alive and fighting, sure, but Calvin Kadkhodaian was dead.

Carter was still trying to wrap his head around it. How was it fair that a kid with so much potential should just die, like he meant nothing? Year after year the same thing happened- twenty-three innocent kids died, and for what? For the Capitol's entertainment? Carter didn't understand it, but he knew one thing: he didn't want his struggles to be the amusement of the whole nation. Especially not while his siblings - his family - were watching.

He'd made up his mind. Carter would not play their games any longer.

With a heavy sigh, Carter let his knife fall from his hands. It clattered to the ground between his feet, and as it did, Nugua startled.

"Good mornin'," Carter said, turning towards his ally.

"You scared me," Nugua replied. "What's going on?"

"Nothin' just… thinking."

"Mm," Nugua hummed, as she stretched her arms far above her head. "We should get moving."

As Carter shook his hands out, he paused for a moment- they should leave, but doing so would play into what the Gamemakers wanted. He didn't want to leave Nugua yet, but he didn't want to go to the Feast either. There would only be more bloodshed, and Carter didn't want to be there to see it.

"I don't think I want to go," Carter said, softly.

"What?"

"I don't think I wanna go," Carter repeated. "We're not desperate for supplies right now. I don't think it's worth it."

"Hm." Nugua thought for a moment. "What if we go just to watch? I don't know about you, but I don't particularly want to deal with Careers. We can just wait and see what happens, and if there's supplies left at the end, we can take them."

"That sounds like an alright plan," Carter agreed.

"So we should get going then?"

"Yes ma'am," Carter nodded, smiling as he began packing up his bag. He was glad he and Nugua were on the same page; she didn't seem like much of a fighter herself, and Carter didn't want to fight unless he had to.

"Which way are we going?" Nugua asked, as she swung her bag over her shoulder.

"Hmm," Carter said, looking out over the horizon. They were in a field on the edge of the forest, off the path but near enough to not lose it. In the distance, Carter could see the remains of the building he'd left a few days before, and past that the slowly rising sun.

"Hey, look at this," Nugua called. Carter turned, making his way over to where she stood. The stones of the path were lit up, guiding them forwards. As Carter followed the lights, the ones under his feet disappeared, new ones lighting up in front of him.

"I suppose we should follow 'em," Carter said.

"Well that makes this a bit easier," Nugua laughed.

"It does. They want us to go."

"Of course."

"Well then?" Carter asked, gesturing to Nugua. She nodded as he continued to follow along the glowing path, towards the feast and its inevitable violence.

But Carter refused it. He wouldn't follow anymore; he would make his own path.


Revan Allerix, 18.
Victor of the 207th Hunger Games.


Revan tapped his foot impatiently. He'd been standing here waiting for the door to open for whatfelt like an eternity. There were a hundred better things he could be doing- he'd had to leave Pluto for this meeting, and he was still annoyed about that. He simply didn't understand what could be so important as to pull three mentors who still had kids in the Arena away from their stations.

Whatever they were being dragged here for, it better be worth his time- Pluto's time.

The door swung open; Northcroft stuck his head out into the hall, waving them in. Revan let Omega and Sarmiento go first, as they were engrossed in some kind of quiet conversation. Revan hadn't paid them much mind, not particularly wanting to eavesdrop on them- though they didn't seem keen on including him in the first place.

"Grab a seat Revan can you close the door?" Northcroft requested quietly as they all stepped into his office. Revan nodded, closing the door, letting Sarmiento and Omega take the chairs in front of the desk. He looked around, choosing to perch on a small table nearby.

"Thanks for coming on such short notice," Northcroft continued, shooting Revan an odd look.

"Did you figure out what's going on with the feast?" Omega asked.

"Is everything still okay with the plan?" Sarmiento chimed in.

"Plan?" Revan echoed. "What are we even doing?"

"Everything for our plan is good to go" Northcroft reported "and I did figure out what's going on with the feast. You guys probably know that Diesel, the kid from Six, is planning… something, given that he and his partner have been digging up the explosives around the pedestals the past day or so. The President wants to use whatever he's planning to… dispose of Ping and Reign. That's why they called the feast. "

"I was wondering why they called it so early," Omega commented. "But we don't know exactly what Six is gonna do… or when right?"

"Right. Well, more correctly, we have an idea of what he's going to do, but they're not sure it's going to work, or when he's going to execute his plan. If he succeeds, however, we think it'll result in a… rather large explosion.

"Of course," Northcroft continued, "the Gamemakers still have control over the explosives; it is their technology, after all. They could easily manually set them off though at whatever time is most likely to kill Reign and Ping, and that time is likely going to be the Feast."

"But what do you mean by that? What's going on?" Revan interjected into the conversation.

"So… the Gamemakers are gonna force the explosives to go off, without knowing what they're going to do?" Sarmiento processed.

"Yeah," Northcroft said. "Ping and Reign were sent in there to die, correct? The Gamemakers are going to do whatever it takes to kill them even if it means forcing the hand of Diesel."

Silence fell over the room for a few moments before Omega spoke up. "And we have to go in at the feast? There's no other way to do it?"

"Not really, no. If the Six boy succeeds in his plan of breaking down the wall of the Arena, then it's likely either one of them would die. Which would defeat the whole purpose of this entire plan. I know it's not great, I was hoping the feast would be later but… they called it early because of Six's plan, so we'll just have to make do."

"What fucking plan are you even talking about!" Revan exclaimed, loudly enough that hopefully somebody would finally answer his questions.

"Oh, yeah. Sorry about that. Let's get you up to speed.

"In every tribute's tracker is a small amount of poison, which is released into their bloodstream if they leave the Arena's boundaries without their tracker being deactivated. Releasing the poison fires their cannon immediately, but it actually takes about two minutes for the poison to take effect. Now, if we manually trigger the poison in Ping and Reign's trackers, two minutes would be just enough time to grab them in a hovercraft and administer the antidote. However, we can only get our hovercraft in there once, so we have one chance to get this right. Because of that, we need them to be close together, which is why we planned to do it at the feast."

"Oh," Revan exhaled.

"Sorry, we should've maybe told you sooner," Sarmiento grimaced. "We just- we're all so busy, and you seemed occupied with your tribute."

"It's whatever," Revan said waving his hands. All of this seemed practically insane to Revan, but he wasn't bothered by it all that much. It wasn't his idea or his plan; whatever was going to happen would be on Omega and Sarmiento, not him. He'd stay out of it, out of their way- they hadn't asked him to get involved yet, and Revan honestly hoped they wouldn't.

"So we're just… doing this all far sooner than we thought we'd have to, right? Is that going to cause any issues?" Omega confirmed.

"Hopefully not," Northcroft shrugged. "Everything should go smoothly as long as we get in there before whatever Six is doing happens."

"I see. And what do you have planned for all of us?"

"Well you are going in on the hovercraft to hopefully placate Reign when he wakes up. He can be… volatile, correct?"

"Correct," Omega affirmed.

"He broke my nose one time in a fight," Revan chimed in.

"That's why Riley is going in to keep an eye on that," Northcroft nodded. "Sarmiento, you're staying here, keeping an eye on things on this end. We didn't see much of a need to pull you away from everything."

"Wonderful," Sarmiento nodded.

"So what am I doing here?" Revan spoke up.

"Allerix, you're getting sent outside of the Arena, to a little encampment we have set up to keep an eye on things. Since we don't really know if Six's plan is going to work - we can't even be sure it'll even actually put a hole in the Arena- We need to be ready for anything that might happen," Northcroft continued, waving his hands around as he spoke. "You're the most capable one to have on the ground anyways if things do go wrong. I trust you can take care of anything that comes up."

"Outside the arena…?" Revan repeated. "Away from here?" Northcroft nodded.

Revan wasn't entirely sure what to think of the whole thing. On one hand, he didn't know if he wanted to be dragged into this whole plan- this wasn't what he was here to do. He wasn't here to fuck around and meddle with the Games like this. On the other hand, maybe getting involved wasn't such a bad thing. He'd be away from the Northcroft, from Snow from everything. Even better, it'd be a good way to stick it to Snow just a little bit more-

But it quickly dawned on him exactly what that meant.

"So I'd… have to leave Pluto?" Revan asked.

"Correct."

"I can't go then. I have to stay."

"I can assure you he'll be well looked after. Your mentor partner will keep an eye on him in your stead."

"No," Revan shook his head. "No it has to be me. I can't go."

"Even if you stay, do you really think Pluto can avoid trouble forever?" Northcroft said, leaning forward over his desk.

"What's that, a threat?" Revan laughed bitterly. "Fuck if I care, I don't want to hear it. I'm not leaving Pluto, and I'm not changing my mind, especially not after you fucked me over and left me to fend for myself. If you wanted my help, maybe you should've asked sooner."

Revan hopped off the table he sat on, storming off towards the door. Flinging it open with little thought, Revan pushed onward into the dark halls. They really expected him to leave his tribute? Leave his post like that? The boy was all alone in the Arena now, nobody to help him if he got himself into trouble again.

He'd just lost his ally. Pluto couldn't lose Revan too.

As he rounded the corner, Revan felt himself rapidly stop as something caught on the collar of his jacket.

"Hold on there, buddy," Sarmiento said,

Revan twisted himself out of the other mentor's grip. "What do you want?"

"I have an idea for you," Sarmiento offered. "Maybe we can find a place to sit and we can talk it over?"

"No. Just tell me," Revan shook his head.

"Okay, okay. I was thinking… maybe, if it made you feel better, I could keep an eye on your tribute. And um… I have lots of sponsorship money. If anything happened I'd be in a much better situation to fund him then you," Sarmiento suggested.

Revan blinked in shock. Money for Pluto's sponsorships was hard to come by; most of it was from Revan himself, and what resources he had were drying up - and drying up quickly at that. Both of the One tributes were still alive and Sarmiento was willing to just give up their sponsor money? To Pluto? Nobody had ever offered to help like this. It'd always been him on his own trying his best to keep his tributes alive- and it had never worked. Maybe Pluto could be different though- maybe this could be the difference between his life and his death. Revan didn't want his tribute - no, his friend to die.

All Revan wanted was somebody to stay. He didn't want to be alone anymore.

"Sponsor money? Isn't that meant for… your tributes though?" Revan asked. "What if they need it? You can't just… offer it like that."

"Well I can, and I am," Sarmiento shrugged. "They have more than enough, trust me, I wouldn't be offering if I wasn't sure."

"Oh." Revan exhaled. "Oh, okay."

Sarmiento placed a reassuring hand on Revan's shoulder, as he spoke. "I can understand your reluctance to leave, but it'll be okay. You don't have to do it all on your own."

Revan almost didn't want to push the other mentor's hand off. "Thank you?"

"Of course," Sarmiento nodded. "So what's the verdict?"

"I.. well, I guess I'll go," Revan sighed, placing his hand on Sarmiento's shoulder. "But if anything - and I mean anything - happens to Pluto I need you to make sure they recall me."

Sarmiento shook his head slightly. "I can't guarantee that, but… I can try."

Revan sighed. This was his best bet- the best option. It was likely they'd just force him to go no matter what he said, and Revan felt much better with Sarmiento keeping an eye on Pluto than anybody else.

"Fine," Revan agreed. "Please take good care of him."

"I'll do my best," Sarmiento nodded, with a wry smile. "Lets go… tell the others then?"

Revan nodded, letting Sarmiento steer him back towards the office, Revan couldn't help but feel a pit of dread opening in his stomach. Maybe this was all a mistake, maybe he shouldn't leave Pluto alone with Sarmiento. But he'd made his choice.

Revan could only hope he wouldn't come to regret it.