A/N: The last one! :D We're here in District Twelve for our last G&T chapter, revisiting Gaylord "Lord" Parthenia and Carmen Ionique-Astron. Quite a mouthful, eh? xD Good thing I like names that are mouthfuls! ;)
Enjoy your reading!
P.S. I got out of hand with Gaylord. Like REALLY out of hand. His POV is around 2,000 words. Sorry. XD You'll see why, I guess. Also, Carmen gets a goodbye and train ride, because I needed her to have some goodbye time to explain her better. This is the second longest G&T chapter, like only 10-20 words behind the Ten chapter.
Trigger Warnings: Profanity and mentions of sexual intercourse/suggestive language
It's my own design
It's my own remorse
Help me to decide
Help me make the most
Of freedom and of pleasure
Nothing ever lasts forever
Everybody wants to rule the world
There's a room where the light won't find you
Holding hands while the walls come tumbling down
When they do I'll be right behind you
So glad we've almost made it
So sad they had to fade it
Everybody wants to rule the world
Lord Parthenia, 16
District Twelve Male
My hand is entwined with the hand of my newest catch, Angelica. She's skinny like a twig and has bug eyes, but she has a good nose, mouth, and teeth and always speaks in a soft, sultry tone. She's also had the hots for me apparently since she started coming to the bar three weeks ago. I've just never really noticed her until two weeks ago when she asked me out. She might sound sexy, but she "wants to go slow" and wants to wait for sex until we're married and all that jazz. That's okay with me. I haven't cheated on her and haven't pressured her. Sex is great, but love is better. Just imagine, Angelica Parthenia. It sounds like a name made in heaven! I'll give it a couple of months, I hope it lasts. Girls usually don't stick this long around me. She's kept me on my best behavior so far. I've only passed out drunk once and the last time I hooked up with a girl was when I got involved with that Peyton girl two months ago. She was gone the moment I woke up; Cressilda said she got up around two and scurried out of there. Haven't seen her since. Girls have been scant around the bar lately. I was lucky to get Angelica. Sometimes I wonder if she can change me, like in the fairy tales, and then I laugh. Angelica might be a good girl, but those are always the girls in the movies who go sour and dark. Good thing sour and dark girls are right up my alley. I wonder if she loves me. I wonder if she thinks about me.
Well, do I love her? Girls are beautiful specimens. I enjoy their company, their laughs, their minds, their bodies, their fantasies, their eyes, everything about them. I get involved and heartbroken easily. It's just my way. You'd think I'd learn, but the stupid schools of Twelve never taught me how in the few years I actually attended full time before I had to start working at the bar to support myself. I don't like to think about the time before that, so I won't.
Anyway, Angelica looks like an absolute babe in a charcoal dress that goes a little past her knees. Her dark brown hair is smoothed out and she's dusted the littlest bit of golden makeup on her olive skinned face, probably filched from somewhere by her older sister knowing her family's financial status. I press a feathery light kiss on her lips, and when we part she looks down shyly at the dusty ground, red tinting her smooth cheeks.
As we walk into the short line to get into our pens (we're a little early, upon her insistence), I tickle her ear with my nose and breathe, "You look so beautiful in that dress, Angelica, just like you always do." I press a small kiss on her cheek, just next to her earlobe and a little up, and she giggles. She's so pure and shy and intelligent unlike many of the sluts I fall for, the scummy hoes who haunt bars and strip clubs and give boys a ride for a little extra money. I don't necessarily detest that, you gotta do what you gotta do to survive, but they're always the ones that break my heart. Fuck them, eh?
Angelica and I get our fingers pricked, and then we split. She heads to the 17 year old girl's section; yeah, I scored a girl a year older than me. I do look older than 16, and most people think I'm 18 plus because of my muscles that they assume are from working in the mines. Push ups and curl ups in the barren, empty hours between the bar opening and closing and sleep really build stamina and strength pretty easily. And girls do love to see a muscular guy who can do knuckle push ups or a hundred sit ups in a row. I used to be a stringy little kid, but I worked at it. I still have the scars on my knuckles from when I first tried knuckle push ups on the rough cement sidewalk outside of the bar with Thor watching. I smile as I enter my pen. I feel introspective today, maybe because of Angelica.
I start to get a little impatient as I stand there, waiting. We got here pretty early, and Twelve is notoriously late at things, such as, say, getting a Victor. A large, dark front of storm clouds is sprouting in the east, looming behind the Justice Building ominously, and I really don't want it to rain. That means the ceiling of the bar gets all drippy. I cross my fingers out of stupid superstition Cressilda taught me as the Justice Building's doors bang open and the Mayor, what's-his-face, strides out, fidgeting, alongside the serene, elegant Edna Trinket. Even I have to respect her class; she's escorted for 22 years straight, since the beginning, and has yet to get a Victor. Hard workers, even if they're pompous Capitolites, get brownie points with me.
The Mayor, named Haroldus Akite, obviously an incompetent Capitolite bloke, stutters and staggers and spits through his speech, and then Edna glides to the microphone and saves the day. Dressed in modest pastel greens and yellows, she looks rather pretty, for a sixty-something year old woman at least. After she shows the video, which I half sleep through, she strides over to the girl's bowl. I wonder who she'll pick. Maybe one of my ex's. Sheila? Ember? Jacinta? Caroly-
"Carmen Ionique-Astron!" Edna declares firmly, in a no frills way. Everyone gapes as a man screams, "NO! Not my...not my wife!" All thoughts of my naughty ex girlfriends and kissing Angelica are wiped from my mind as a girl waddles out of the seventeen year old section, trying not to cry, trying to smile, and failing miserably. I look down to her stomach...and see the swollen baby bump. I suck in a raspy breath. This...this can't be legal. Won't someone volunteer? Of course not! What was I even thinking? It's Twelve. There's lots of pregnant girls, but none of them have ever gotten Reaped. I hear a child crying, and my eyes open wider. Does she have more? She has a husband and a baby on the way at seventeen; girls like that usually get started in their early teens, fourteen or fifteen, in Twelve. I hope she doesn't have more children, and that it's just some worried, frightened twelve year old having a meltdown. That's just cruel, a mother torn away from her family.
As Carmen stands next to Edna, Edna looks at her with pure pity, the most human emotion I've ever seen out of a Capitolite to date. Everyone knows Edna is the least...fashionable Mentor, if you want to put it in Capitolite terms, but our people like it that way. Edna picks out the male's name quietly.
"Gaylord Parthenia!"
I smirk as I climb onto the stage as the catcalls echo around me, trying not to let them see the fear lurking beneath my mask. I look out into the crowd and see Angelica's blank face and over a dozen girls sniggering. One girl from the eighteen year old section, damn Sheila Eastin!, screams, "WHORE!" A nearby Peacekeeper draws out his thick black iron baton and Sheila quiets down, but the damage has already been done to my image.
Despite that, I smile as wide as I can, trying to keep a cool head, and I flex my arms to the crowd, grinning like a maniac probably. I can see some girls rolling their eyes and others smiling shyly like Angelica does whenever I call her beautiful. Edna announces our names once more to the crowd, and I take weeping Carmen's hand and squeeze it, trying to be reassuring, but she doesn't even react, and I have to fight out of her grasp. Edna guides us into the Justice Building as I hear Sheila's voice rising up once again behind me, and then there's the crack of a baton and the snap of a bone, and I feel equal parts disgusted and satisfied.
The Peacekeepers escort me down the hallways of the Justice Building, not making a single sound beside the squeak of their plasticky combat boot soles against the recently waxed floors of the Justice Building. I'm guessing the only time they clean is Reaping season, when Capitolite dignitaries ride in with Edna to check out how everything is running. That's also probably why they crushed one of Sheila's bones, to show that they aren't afraid to use some force. If it wasn't Reaping day, if the Capitolites weren't running amok, checking this and that, Sheila wouldn't even have gotten a warning. They wouldn't have even batted an eye.
They open a door to a seemingly random room and drop me inside before letting it slam closed behind me. There's the small wooden bench, which looks so old and unsteady that placing a grain of sand on it would make it collapse. There's also the grimy porthole that lets greasy dark light stream through. Water droplets splatter across it's surface; it seems that the heavens have opened up now that the Reaping is over.
The door opens, and Cressilda and Thor tumble in. Cressilda gives me an awkward hug and Thor shakes my hand really hard. We stand there for a moment, staring at one another. Then Thor nods, Cressilda murmurs, "Good luck, Lord," and then they're gone. We've always had a weird friendship, and they're weird too. Cressilda rarely speaks, tragically a prostitute at such a young age just to feed her two brothers and parents, and Thor lost his parents when he was little to illness and ever since he's drank more than he's spoken. I should be happy that one of them even said anything, I guess.
The door opens again, and a stern looking Angelica, flanked by three of my ex's, walks in. There's Jacinta and Ember as expected, and then one of my very first, the girl I lost my virginity too, Gwendolynne. They all look angry, and why isn't Angelica crying?
"You told me you were a virgin," Angelica murmurs, and she starts to cry, and they're angry tears, not sad tears. "You-you said I was the only girl for you! And yet, you've...you've fucked all these sluts behind me, you asshole!" She snorts, snot dribbling down her face.
"Hey, hey, hey, who you callin' a slut?" Jacinta drawls. "I bet you've been enjoying that admittedly hot body for some time now, Angie."
"It's Angelica, and no, never!" she shrieks. My heart shrivels as she glares at me. I guess I won't be coming back to her love.
"You've definitely thought about it!" Ember hisses, and an all out cat fight erupts. I tip toe around them, and crack open the door. I tap the Peacekeeper stationed outside of the door on the shoulder, smiling shyly as he whips around to look at me, his hand going to his hip for his baton.
"Hey, sorry to scare you sir, could you get these girls outta here? Never seen them before in my life," I say, looking at my shoes innocently. The man nods gruffly, puts on his Peacekeeper helmet, and storms into the room, extracting each girl one by one as they kick and scream. Angelica is the last out, and she goes quietly, following the man out and glaring at me. As she steps out of the door, she says something.
"Rot in hell, Gaylord Parthenia," she sniggers, wiping the tears from her bony face. She looks so tattered and flat now.
"Don't bet on it, dear!" I chuckle as the door snaps closed behind her.
There is a house built out of stone
Wooden floors, walls and window sills
Tables and chairs worn by all of the dust
This is a place where I don't feel alone
This is a place where I feel at home.
And I built a home
for you
for me
Until it disappeared
from me
from you
And now, it's time to leave and turn to dust...
Carmen Ionique-Astron, 17
District Twelve Female
I'm sobbing as they drag my children away from me. Aris looks like he wants to fight against the Peacekeeper, but he's holding Bonnie and he can't do anything. Aramis clings to Aris's leg and stares at the ground blankly, but Cobalt is throwing a tantrum, spasming in the other Peacekeeper's strong barrel arms. I shush him and calm him down enough so he stops thrashing. He begins to cry quietly.
"Say goodbye to Mommy," Aris whispers, his eyes brimming with tears, and I collapse on the floor, sobbing, as my children mewl out their adoration for me. I try to put on a brave face and a smile for them, but it's impossible. I can't see anything through my tears, and when I finally manage to wipe them out of my eyes, they're all gone. Aristotle, Bonnie, Aramis, Cobalt. My family is gone. Every last one of them.
Well, not all of them. My hand instinctively flashes to my stomach, bulging under my loose white dress with a pink floral print on it. I sigh, and lean my head back against the wall. The door cracks open and someone steps inside, and I look up, and I smile sadly at Cape Estrella.
Cape is an older man who sometimes takes care of the kids for us. He's a...midhusband? The male equivalent of a midwife. I met him out on the streets after my Aunt Marni passed away and I was left homeless, singing for a few bits of pocket change or a handful of crumbs so I wouldn't starve to death. He liked my voice, and would walk past me every day and give me the crusts of his peanut butter and jelly sandwich, saying he didn't like them. It was all he could give. When I met Aris and I got pregnant with Cobalt at such a young age, Cape took care of his birth free of charge. I still nearly died, and I would have if Cape hadn't been there. Aramis's birth was better, but Bonnie came a month premature. She's okay now, just a little small, but she nearly died. If it weren't for Cape, I would be dead, and none of my children would exist except maybe Cobalt, and I don't even want to know what sort of shape Aris would be in without us.
I think of my children as Cape hobbles over and holds me for a minute. I think of how frail, how starved, they look. I make delusions for myself, telling myself that we're a happy, well fed family, that Aris's job is some heaven sent occupation that somehow makes enough to support five, soon to be six, mouths. I let myself cry again as Cape holds me. He's the closest thing I have left to family outside of Aris and the kids.
"Take care, Carmen," Cape whispers as he pulls away, the Peacekeepers waiting impatiently at the door. "At least the baby will be delivered flawlessly in the Capitol, darling. It'll be perfectly healthy, I know it sweetie." The Peacekeepers move to grab Cape my his arms, but he raises his cane defensively and staggers out, leaning heavily on his cane, without another word. Then the Peacekeepers seize me gently by my arms and walk me out into the hallway. Cape turns down one hall and disappears while we head in a different direction. Soon we reach a set of swinging doors, and we walk out into a muddy patch of yellowed, dead grass. The rain splutters from the sky and patters against everything; it's coming down pretty hard. An unreadable Gaylord waits on the platform, his hair and nice outfit wet. I'd guess he's wealthy, if it weren't for the catcalls during the Reaping. I might have been sobbing, but I heard the words they called him.
I move as fast as I can, a pitiful, awkward waddle, through the puddles towards the platform. The Peacekeepers lift me onto the platform, and I shiver, sopping wet. I hug myself, and look over at Gaylord, who is staring at me. Not in a perverted way as one might suspect someone that others call...foul names...but in a deadpan, saddened way. He just shakes his head slightly and rakes his hand through his damp hair. He looks pretty handsome, I guess.
A train squeals out of nowhere like the lightning rumbling above. A bolt of lightning cracks soon after the train stops next to the platform. Gaylord opens the door and helps me step inside like a real gentleman, smirking kindheartedly. He walks in behind me, and we find ourselves in a dining room.
Edna Trinket and our Mentor, Eris Glasshine, sit at the stately mahogany table in the dining car. Edna has her hands clasped on the table, back ramrod straight, looking very presentable and respectable. She reminds me a bit of Cape. Eris, meanwhile, is young; she could pass for Reaping age. Unlike most Capitolites, she looks drab and District-like, and she's swirling a glass of scotch around, the ice cubes clinking against the glass. When she sees us however, she sets down the glass, tactfully hiding it behind a pile of pastries, and she grins widely. It's no secret that Eris craves a Victor and can be a little overbearing.
We sit down at the table, and there's silence for a moment. Then Edna clears her throat.
"I'm so sorry, Carmen," she murmurs, looking right into my eyes and boring into my soul. "I didn't mean for this to happen."
"I get it, I know that it's random," I sniff, trying to be happy and get my head screwed back on straight. "Don't feel guilty. The baby is due any day now anyway, he or she will probably come before we even get to the interviews," I say lightly. Edna tries to smile to reaffirm me that she's alright, but she gives a longing look at the glass of scotch Eris is trying to hide. Eris looks a little queasy, and I have a feeling she's not a drinker. I hope I didn't cause her to have some alcohol.
"Can I by any chance have some of that scotch? It's...Midas 09, right?" Gaylord speaks up suddenly, eyeing Eris's glass.
"Midas 10. But how did you know that? And no! You're sorely underage!" Eris snaps back. "Sorry. I need my tributes to have their head in the right mindset."
"I'm a bartender. I can drink more shots in an hour than you can in your whole life without puking. Give me the scotch."
"No," Eris mutters firmly.
"Hey, Avox girl? You look super pretty in that red cocktail dress!" The Avox blushes. "Care to fetch me some Midas 10 scotch, pretty pretty please with a cherry on top?" The Avox looks uneasily at Eris, but she cannot avoid direct orders from a tribute, and she scurries out of the car.
"I hope this is a one time occasion," Eris sighs. "If the Capitol found out you drank..."
"Aww, cheer up Ms. Glasshine!" Gaylord chuckles. "It's just one glass of scotch!"
I look at him like he's a bad taste in my mouth. Alcohol?! I've never tasted a drop of it in my life. I guess that's mostly because I pretty much skipped my teenage years. I went from 0 to 60, from hapless 13 year old orphan to mother overnight.
"So, Ms. Glasshine," I speak up, cutting through the tension filled air permeating throughout the room. "Is there anything I have to know related to the Games that will effect my little baby?" My hand shoots to my stomach out of habit, and I rub a small circle, comforting the baby almost.
Eris pauses for a moment, her words getting caught in her throat. She looks at me with worried, wild eyes, and she grabs her glass of scotch and takes a quick sip before turning to me and smiling brightly. "Don't worry about that right now, dear, everything will be perfectly fine."
"Oh great!" I reply with a smile, and I grab an eclair and munch on it thoughtfully, actually feeling happy right now. My baby will be born in the Capitol, but at least it will be a safe birth. I'll have Capitol doctors at my beck and call during the birth, and my baby will have the best life if he or she ends up staying in the Capitol. I hope they'll return my baby back to Twelve, even if without me Aris will be miserable and he'll struggle to take care of the kids. I don't want my one child to be stuck in the Capitol, no matter how much of a good life they'd have. I want my family to be united after I'm gone. Let's be honest. I'm not making it home; my chances are pretty terrible, even if I wasn't pregnant. You don't recover overnight from childbirth; you're tired and wrecked for days afterward. Even if I had the baby in ten minutes, I'd still be too tired to even jog to the Cornucopia. At least, that was how it was back in Twelve. Maybe it'll be different in the Capitol.
I rub my stomach again, smiling, as Edna, Eris, and Gaylord talking quietly about strategy that I don't pay much attention to even though I should. This little baby boy or girl is almost ready to leave my stomach. I was scared that this fourth birth would lead to complications; Cape was honest with me and told me I had a 50/50 shot of surviving this birth, that it could go bad or good easily. My body's beat up from three natural births. Even if I die, at least the baby inside me, the little human that Aristotle and I created one fateful night, will survive, no questions asked. It's all a mother could ask for.
A/N: AAAAAAAND we are done with Goodbyes and Trains! I love doing these, but I think we're all ready to move on to the Pre-Games! :D I was going to take a break and I probably won't have an update later today, but I'll probably end up writing the Pre Parade chapter by Monday or something because I'm just really into this story right now XD
I'm posting a new poll. The Top 2 vote getters will get a bonus POV during the Pre-Games. So this isn't necessarily for your favorite, but the two tributes you'd like to see getting on the hovercraft and walking down to the tubes. I'll post a poll after the interviews just about for popularity again.
Who did you like better here, Gaylord or Carmen? Have your thoughts on them changed?
Lord (1 pt.): Name 3 of his ex's. xD
Carmen (1 pt.): What is Cape's occupation?
Until Next Time,
Tracee