A/N: This took a while, but I was focusing on 500 Years of Penance since I've been lagging on that story for a while, and so laser focused on this one. I also went through a several day slump where I didn't really want to continue but that's just because of personal stuff, school, sports, and other stuff, so no worries everyone :) I have a four day weekend due to Easter and all that, and I might try to get another chapter out in this long weekend if I can. Today we have the Showstoppers Alliance, made up of Fuji LaMac, Millard Vaith, Ivy Cross, and Omri Plower! What a group! xD Enjoy!
Trigger warnings: Sexual references and profanity
And I could never say that I hate you
I mean I guess I could, but it ain't true
I swear it's me, not you
Please don't tell me you want me
Please don't say you do
Honestly, it's not you it's me
I just have trust issues
Fuji LaMac, 17
District Three Female
I tug at my wild hair weakly as Millard and I ride down to the Training Center in the elevator along with Takami and his little friend, Emma. She actually came out of their room last night and shyly introduced herself. She seems a little familiar, but I don't know from where. She's his companion, apparently. I don't know if that means that they're cousins or friends, or if that means that they're crazy sex animals copulating hourly, or if that means that they're in a forever relationship without a ring and a legal document. I didn't ask, and neither did Millard. It wasn't our place to. We sat there in silence and ate our food, making chat only when necessary. Takami's a decent Mentor; he keeps the balance between friendly and business well. But since neither myself nor Millard have that much technical experience, he seems to be at a loss of how to tell us to win besides hoping for the best and arming ourselves. I bet he usually tells kids to find a power source and a way to kill other tributes with it; tons of Three kids who survive the Bloodbath at least try to do it. But the only things I do at the factory are eroding my lungs and make sure the machines don't break down; the mechanics are the ones that fix them. And Millard hasn't had a smidge of grease on him in his entire life, so he's useless at it to. But Takami's trying, and that's all you can really ask for, right?
"Why are you coming down with us?" Millard speaks up. He looks as rough as I do; bags under his eyes, his hair a mess, and his body tired and sagging. We've marathoned four of the nine JB:TFGRCBD,TSH,SVGSABN volumes over the course of the past two nights. Volume Four, the one we started on, was a lull in the series's arc. The others are actually rather engaging. Takami made us stop halfway through Volume Six last night so we'd get at least a scrap of sleep. We didn't even have enough time to fix ourselves up; we woke up, threw on our training clothes and ate a quick breakfast. The definition of a quick breakfast is eating a piece of toast while pulling on your almost-too-tight black stretchy pants that you have to wear for training. I tried to convince Takami to let us stay in our room all day and watch the rest of the movies, but he refused to.
"Emma's not feeling the best, and there's a good physician on the Training Room floor of this building that no one ever visits until they have to right before Private Sessions. So why not utilize him?" Takami replies, cracking his knuckles before reaching back to take Emma's hand. She seems a little worried to see his hand entwined in hers. So maybe they're not crazy sex animals. Or maybe that's only when they're alone. I know I'm not one for PDA.
Thoughts of PDA and crazy wild sex bring be back to thoughts of Cartenya. I quickly push her away, not even a moment's time spent on her. Today is time for training. I need to perfect the trap I've been trying to learn to build (one of us has to at least seem to be the stereotypical smart Three kid for the audience's enjoyment), and I need to focus on strengthening myself as well. And I also need to navigate alliance waters; Millard and I seem to have an pretty solid one that hasn't quite been fully established? Only sort of partially kinda? We've been fraternizing with the Seven girl, Ivy, and the Eleven boy, Omri, who've already made a silent pact of their own. Maybe we'll make another silent pact interconnecting all of us. Although I don't know if I want that many people in an alliance. Millard is easy to keeps tabs of; I love the kid, but I don't see him backstabbing me. Now Ivy and Omri? They seem like the strong type that would discard me once we hit one of the Tops in tributes left. As the old adage says; keep your friends close, and your enemies closer. They're some of the most lethal Outliers in the Games, so it'll be beneficial to keep stronger targets around me so I'm not the focal point if we ever get attacked by another tribute or group.
The elevator opens with a short ping, revealing one of the entrances into the Training Center. Takami and Emma stay in the elevator to ride down to the floor below, where the physician's office is located along with mostly unused offices for the trainers and staff managers on the Fun Floors, along with storage. Millard and I accidentally rode down there on the first day, and we got shooed out by a petite woman slurring rushed words at us in a thick accent. Takami explained it to be some sort of Capitol accent that the richest of the rich have, but I don't remember much about it. It doesn't really matter which stupid Capitol accent comes from which neighborhood here when I'm fighting for my survival, now does it?
Takami would counter with the fact that knowing where a possible sponsor is from based on their voice could help me make a connection and save me later in the Games, and Millard would quietly support him after a silent minute of thought. Emma would lurk in the room, never coming out except to eat, and Luizy would make some anecdote that doesn't fit to teach me a convoluted life lesson. Already I know the dynamic of our little group, and it's a little disheartening to know that the sound of a few wind chimes and at least one cannon is going to tear it all to shreds.
Millard and I stride down the sleek hallway and into the training center, chatting in subdued tones about what might happen in the next Volume and chuckling a little as we do so. Millard holds open the door for me, and I step through, thanking him in a voice mocking that of the woman who yelled at us yesterday. I get the weird Capitol accent, the...Saroque? Yes, Saroque, accent wrong, mucking it up, and Millard's chuckles are throatier like they always are when he's really amused.
"Calm down, Mr. Giggles," I snort with a small smile on my face. "Let's find Ivy and Omri."
"Present!" a feminine voice calls, and I turn to the left to see Ivy bounding forward towards us, Omri walking normally a few paces behind her. Ivy grins genially once she reaches us, and she opens her mouth to say something but closes it, instead waiting for her partner in crime. Omri comes to a halt next to her moments later, and we all stand there for several moments, unsure of how to continue with the day.
"So we're doing this," I mutter after some time. I'm met with three slowly nodding heads. "Okay."
"Should we do a meet and greet?" Omri suggests meekly, his gaze sweeping across the other three of us. "You know, name, age, all that good stuff."
"What are we at, an alcoholic's seminar?" Ivy guffaws, grinning. "I think we just spend the day together and get to know each other as we train."
"Well, we can't travel as a quartet," Millard inserts, clasping his hands behind his back. "They only let three people at a station at once."
"Then we split into pairs?" I comment, cocking my head a little.
"I'll go with Fuji," the Eleven boy tells us. I'm a little surprised by his choice. "We can talk about all the injustices our people face."
"Who? Blacks?" Ivy quips. "Sorry if you find that word offensive. In my little snow white town, they don't teach us another word."
"Nope, not our skin color," Omri replies, his mouth spreading into an eager smile. "Those of us who are too tired to listen to Ivy chatter incessantly."
"I don't-" Ivy begins, and then she sighs. "Sorry. I just get this way when I'm excited. You should see me at home. I'm a lot more fun there." She rolls her eyes, and Omri's laugh is hollow. I don't need to know, nor do I want to.
Within minutes, Omri and I are heading off to whichever station strikes our fancy first, while Ivy takes Millard to hatchets to try and help him learn how to handle one properly along with the instructor. Omri's tall, and strong, and pretty handsome. By the looks of him, he was born and raised in the fields probably. I feel like a little sprite next to him, even though he's just a little taller and muscular. He must've been pretty popular back home by the looks of him.
"So you miss your hometown?" I inquire as we stand in between stations, unsure of where to go.
"Not at all," Omri chortles weakly. "I'm almost happy that I'm here in a sense, to be away from them all. Not all of them, but most of them."
"Ditto," I sigh, looking at the ground. "I think that's why we're all magnetized to one another."
"Maybe," Omri murmurs. "Maybe." I can't even think of a reply.
You know my type
Tightrope across the table
Mmhmm, uh huh, I can't keep holding my breath
New wave, no time
Red velvet under pressure
Blah blah, green eyes
I never leave it unsaid
Why can't I leave it unsaid?
You know I talk too much
Ivy Cross, 16
District Seven Female
"So I take it that you've never done manual labor in your life?" I inquire, resisting the urge to snigger as his arms struggle to lift the heavy axe. Millard brushes me off with a simple eye roll, a maneuver he's plainly mastered just as well as I have.
"So I take it that you're an entitled little girl?" he shoots back with a small smile creeping onto his lips. His retort is almost tentative, like he's testing the waters to make sure I'm fine with this joking and prodding. That's nice of him. Luckily for him, I love to kid around. Unluckily for him, I sometimes like to take my joking to the next level.
"What did you just say?" I whisper, forcing my eyes bug out. Millard immediately straightens, fully on alert.
"Ohmygosh, Ivy honey, I'm sorry, I don't want to open old wounds if I did, I have enough of them myself, and I really need you as an ally so please-" he begins, his words flowing fast and thick. But they're concise and understandable, and he has an almost calming tone. Really nice.
"Honey?! What are you, my boyfriend?!" I shriek, crossing my arms. The trainer is looking at me skeptically; I trained here yesterday, so he knows me a bit, and doesn't seem to understand why I'm doing what I'm doing. That makes me want to laugh, the perplexed expression on his face, but I keep the giggles at bay. Millard is just staring at me open mouthed, and I can almost hear his thoughts.
"Fuji is so not going to be happy with me," Millard murmurs under his breath, not thinking I can hear him. I had a feeling he was thinking about what she'd think. They already seem close, really close, after only a couple of days, and they assume Omri and I are the same. We're pretty good buds, but we're nowhere near as close as the Threes. And their closeness frightens me just a little. Who isn't worried about a good, old fashioned, trusting District partner duo?
"All you worry about is Fuji! What about little old ME!" I fake fainting, swooning a little bit. I stagger off of the mat and fall onto my butt. I let myself plummet backwards as I brandish my hand in an airy fashion across my forehead. My back smacks into the sweaty mat, and I'm staring up into Millard's glistening eyes. I pretend to sob as I say, "The pain! THE PAIN! THE PAAAAIN!" I can't help myself; I'm laughing after the third pain, and Millard's worried grimace turns into a little smile. He rolls his eyes again and helps me to his feet, shaking his head slowly.
"The little entitled girl can act," Millard chuckles.
"She can also pick up an axe. Something someone cough cough Millard here cough cough can't seem to figure out," I fire back, sniggering.
"Well, what about hatchets?" Millard almost whines in a way. "They look lighter."
"Alright, wimp," I reply with a toothy grin. "Hey, Serge, hatchets please?"
The trainer, Sergio, nods curtly. He unlocks the small rack of weapons standing beside him, and he draws out two hatchets, one in each hand. Lightweight and metallic, they're the type of Seven-esque weapon I prefer. Axes can do more damage, but hatchets are easier to carry and maneuver. And while I have enough brawn to lift an axe, it gets tiring after a little bit; hatchets are by far the easier thing to deal out blows with.
I grab both hatchets before turning to Millard. "Sure you can hold it?"
"Oh shut up," Millard snaps, tugging the hatchet out of my hand.
"Careful. These are sharp weapons," Sergio reminds us in a clipped, reserved tone. One not paying attention would peg it to sound bored, but really it just sounds calm.
"Sorry sir," Millard replies, stiffening almost immediately. He straightens to his full height again, his back ramrod straight, and I look up at him quizzically for a moment before moving on. The past means nothing here unless it's related to how well you can kill or survive. I don't want to know what the hell happened to him in the smoggy streets of Three, and I doubt he wants to know what happened to me among the towering conifers of Seven.
"Spar?" I inquire.
"Excuse me?" Millard questions, cocking his head at me.
"Fight?" I say with an involuntarily forceful tone. Millard chews on his lip and glances at the ever-watching sentry named Sergio.
"I think I need to learn how first," he tells me, and I nod in silent agreement. Sergio nabs another hatchet of his own and strides to Millard's side in two steps. In moments the muscular, balding man is showing Millard how to wield the weapon properly. A grin creeps onto Millard's face as the rather handsome man adjusts his footing and arms, and I narrow my eyes for a moment before turning away, shaking my head. I don't want to know, really.
I find a dummy to massacre standing several feet from the mats. I set down my hatchet and drag the heavy thing over to the mat. It weighs as much as I do, and I'm winded by the time I get it standing on its own on the left side of the large mat. Millard is going through a basic exercise now, stepping in a circle and hacking and slashing with Sergio watching carefully, walking around the circle with him and dropping advice.
I turn to my dummy and slash my hatchet forward. It easily buries itself in the space between the neck and the shoulder, skidding along the collarbone and burying itself in the inner base of the neck. Blue liquid oozes forth, and when I withdraw the weapon, everything stitches itself back together. I go for the knees this time, slashing both open. The dummy sags to the ground, and I attack the face, slicing off the nose and flaying skin from the forehead as the knees fix themselves. By the time I've made the eyes soggy, liquidy pits of nothingness, the nose is already whole once again. I almost wish that they would stay apart for a little longer, so Sergio could give me pointers on how to be more efficient and all that. He said that my biggest weakness when fighting is lacking finesse. I like to hack anything that I can more than going for a single delicate region and ending it in a single sweep of my weapon.
After about a half hour of me demolishing the dummy, the dummy stitching itself back together, and Millard being trained relentlessly by the placid Sergio, Millard calls for a break. He goes to get water and returns a couple of minutes later, and I'm there waiting for him, hand outstretched to shake.
"Ready to fight, Mr. Can't Lift An Axe?" I quip.
"If I get to beat your ass, Miss Likes To Make People Feel Bad So She Throws Fake Tantrums To Embarrass Them," Millard breathes in response.
"Too long of an insult. It lost its burn," I comment. "And then let's go, honey."
"You can't fight each other," Sergio breaks through, ending our possible sparring session. "It's in the rule book."
"Damn rule book," I mutter. "I'll go against you first, Serge, show Millard here how it's done." I wink back at him, and he starts to laugh.
Sergio and I start at opposite ends of the mat. We both have new hatchets, blunt ones made for sparring. Millard claps his hands to signal the start of the match. Sergio quickly takes the offensive, lunging forward and sweeping his hatchet through the air. I barely dodge it, and I slash at his kneecap. He dances out of the way. He darts forward and swings, missing purposefully. I lean backwards too far and fall to the ground. Moments later, Sergio is towering over me, hatchet raised, and I see my father and hear my mother's screams and everything is crashing down around me. The cold glass windows and the lonely starry nights and pressing ice to the bruises and the sleek black casket and the everything, I won't think about it, but it's coming at me and it won't stop, his fist won't stop-
"DON'T TOUCH ME!" I yell, curling up in a ball, shaking. Sergio drops his weapon and kneels by my side, asking me if I'm alright. I freeze, having no clue of what just happened. I feel blank. I clear my throat, staggering my feet, saying that I'm fine while everything knits itself back together in my mind. I've never had a panic attack like that before, and I can't even remember what I just thought about, it was just a blurry slur of events. I look up at Millard's eyes, and he looks scared almost. I know he wants to ask. But he doesn't. It's better not to know. Nothing matters here but survival. Knowing just weighs you down. And I can't be weighed down. I have to be free, free like a little birdie, free enough to run for my life and maybe run all the way back to my cold little home in Seven. We all know how to run already, I'm sure. I see the look in their eyes. I might not know exact things, but I know something happened to each of us. A stinging fist, a broken heart, an empty stomach, a fake smile. We all know how to run; we have before, too many times before. Now it'll all be about who can run the fastest.
Take me where you want to be
We would burn in the summer rain
Now take me back to that summer day
Tell me how you took ahold of me
It feels like yesterday
Now take me back to that summer day
The young still have their ways
Foolish and fumbling through their days
Until the winter of their summer love
But without you a colorless pane
Stretches past what my eyes can strain
Cold again, I think of when you arrived on a summer day
Omri Plower, 18
District Eleven Male
It's a little strange, working alongside Fuji at the water station. It's not uncomfortable but any means, and we have little time to talk, since this is more of an instruction station, not a hands on station, and Priscilla doesn't like when we chatter over her. But the two of us are more serious, and there's Millard and Ivy dancing around the axes and hatchets station like it's their birthdays, laughing and screaming and joking with each other. Fuji's sense of humor's a little more bitter, a little more refined, and I like that well enough. It's nice to have a break from Ivy. She's a nice girl, but sometimes she doesn't realize how consuming her personality can become, with all of her talking and joking and socializing, etc. And, anyway, it's better to know how to treat your water than how to fling a hatchet in my opinion.
"Water naturally drains to lower areas, like valleys. Always look there for water, and the Gamemakers will reward you for your knowledge and strong memory most times, from my experience," Priscilla informs us in her clipped tone. Her voice carries a tangy accent that Fuji begrudgingly mentions is from some Capitol neighborhood under her breath. She's older than most of the trainers, with coppery red hair that must be dyed and a rotund figure. She's serious and concise, informative and clear. It's helpful to listen to her prattle on about water; hopefully some of it will stick.
"What do you do if the arena is entirely flat?" Fuji interjects.
"That seldom happens, dear. There'll never be a perfectly flat arena, I'd bet my life on it. But if you are in a large, flat area, follow signs of life. Everything needs water for survival. Look for lush patches of vegetation; they get their nourishment from nearby bodies of water most times. Animals, like insects and birds, are usually found near water sources. Find animal tracks, and they often times converge near a water source. There are many signs; look for all of them while you're searching for water. Besides avoiding anything imminently about to kill you, finding water is the most important thing you can do in the arena. It's sad that most tributes skip over this station; I have to watch gruesome dehydration deaths many years, because they didn't come to me."
I nod along, trying to be nice as Priscilla delves further into which types of vegetation most need water, and thus are almost exclusively found near sites containing water. At least she has emotions and sympathy for those who are ensnared by the Games, but her people force us to come here, to train for a gruesome fight to the death. She wouldn't have to watch those deaths if they fixed this entire crooked system, but it's too late for that, too late for me. I have to fight my way out of this now that I'm in it. You can't put fruit back on the branch after it's been picked. It's irreversible, so now I have to get through it all.
"Omri?" Fuji says, elbowing me. I perk up, looking at the other two. Fuji is unreadable, and Priscilla is looking at me with her head cocked, trying to keep the disappointment out of her bronze-flecked-with-silver eyes.
"Yeah?" I reply weakly, repositioning myself on the ground of the station so I'm less comfortable. Therefore, I'll pay more attention I hope.
"She was just asking us a question to review about finding water in flat areas," Fuji murmurs, looking down at her hands after she speaks. She becomes suddenly interested in the tiny lines etched into her darker skin as Priscilla's metallic eyes bore into me.
"Well, let's continue," Priscilla announces in a hard voice. "Now that you know about how to find water, it's time to know how to treat it. No water will be fully safe anywhere in the wilderness, and the same goes for water in the arena. Some of it you can drink without much problem, but in the Games the risk of drinking polluted or diseased water is ever higher due to the Gamemakers wanting to stir things up. It is imperative that you only drink unpurified water if you are literally on the brink of dying from dehydration. Never drink water before treating it if you can go longer without it, or if you can wait to purify it in some fashion."
"How do you purify it?" I inquire, trying to seem involved. This is important stuff, I just can't get myself to pay attention. My mind keeps wanting to drift off as she talks. She sounds a lot like my freshman teacher, Mrs. Holtzman, although Priscilla is much better fed than that scrap of a woman was.
"Preferably, use iodine," Priscilla answers, picking up a small brownish bottle from the ground beside her, where different filters and models of water sources are strewn. She unscrews the cap and pours out a couple of small circular tablets. They're a murky forest green color, and seem a little bit grainy. She grabs a jug of water that seems mostly clean and plops a few of the capsules into the water.
"This water might seem clean, but it's pumped full of bacteria and other things that can kill you in a matter of days and/or hurt you, like making you ill with diarrhea, which is not fun to have in the arena," Priscilla informs. "All iodine tablets in the arena take a half hour to finish their job. If you drink before that, it's not safe and it might not be fully clean."
"So iodine can take out all that disgusting algae and everything?" Fuji asks.
"Not necessarily. It's a smart idea to sift or strain your water if you can to get rid of bigger debris like plant or animal matter, like algae or insects." Priscilla picks up a dirty jug of water, an empty container, an a thin mesh piece of netting. She pours the polluted water over the strainer, and it catches the small twigs, clumps of algae, and other things. The water is murky when it comes through the filter, and it still needs to be purified, but it's free of bigger pollutants.
"Another way to clean your water is to boil it," Priscilla adds. "This is risky, as a fire can attract others to you, but if you're desperate and have the means to do so, it can be an easy way to get clean water. Water is the most important survival skill aspect for the Games, especially in wilderness arenas, and is one of the most important aspects overall. I have some review sheets you can take with you to study for the rest of this pre-Games period." Priscilla hands us each a small booklet that she had written by hand in her legible cursive. She scanned the notes and then printed them up by the dozens just for tributes like us.
"Thank you," Fuji and I chime together, and we really mean it. I won't remember half of what she said today, but she tried and she truly seemed to care, and that's more than I can say about a lot of people that are involved with myself and the Games.
"You're welcome," Priscilla mutters with a small smile as we stand. "Good luck to the two of you. I'll be rooting for you."
"Thank you," I whisper again under my breath as we walk away from the station.
"That was informative," Fuji sighs. "Too bad I suck at memorization. Maybe I should trade in my promise ring so I can bring this pamphlet into the arena as my token." Her laugh is hollow, and I can tell she hates the joke the moment it's out of her mouth. She tucks the booklet under her arm and starts to play with the ring on her finger absentmindedly. During the station, she wasn't looking at her hands; she was looking at the ring.
Suddenly a chorus of wind chimes sings through the air; lunch has somehow already arrived. It ends with a loud ringing noise, and I can see a few tributes already making their way over there. Fuji curses under her breath as we walk over to the edible insects station, where Ivy and Millard are shutting down the memorization matching game they've been playing for the past twenty minutes.
"We need to go to snares for the second half; I need to work on a trap I've been learning to build," Fuji comments, and I nod my head. It would be helpful to know how to put together a basic snare so I can catch some food when I'm inevitably on my own towards the end of the Games. We walk in silence until we reach Millard and Ivy. The two are laughing about something, and I look at them, a little shocked. They seem to be getting along so well. Fuji and I, we get along, but we don't have an instant connection that these two seem to have. Fuji suddenly looks on edge, and I understand why. I'm close to Ivy and Millard is close to Ivy now. She might seem, at least to Fuji, to control a majority of the group, leaving her further on the outskirts.
"Hey, Mill, how was your time with the little wood fairy?" Fuji jokes in a non-joking voice. Neither Ivy nor Millard seems to realize her sudden change of mood, and Millard just laughs some more, commenting on how it's been great, blah blah blah. The conversation continues, mostly between Ivy and Millard. I make a few jokes as we all stride to the lunch room. I'm usually more upbeat than this, more like Ivy, but something's struck a chord with me. Seeing Fuji already calculating her odds and everything has made me realize that I need to do that as well, that I need to start truly thinking about what's happening and what will happen. And that means that I might have to be less comical and friendly than I have been in the past couple of days with Ivy and others.
It's like the gong's already rang, and I'm not even on my pedestal yet. I've got some serious catching up to do.
I feel it coming out my throat
Guess I better wash my mouth out with soap
God, I wish I never spoke
Now I gotta wash my mouth out with soap
Think I got myself in trouble
So I fill the bath with bubbles
Then I'll put the towels all away
Should've never said the word "love"
Threw a toaster in the bathtub
I'm sick of all the games I have to play
I'm tired of being careful, tiptoe, trying to keep the water warm
Let me under your skin
Uh-oh, there it goes, I said too much, it overflowed
Why do I always spill?
Millard Vaith, 18
District Three Male
We get into the lunch line without much trouble. Ivy begins to chatter about her time in the lumberyards after I mention about how she seemed pretty experienced with the axes and hatchets. She and Omri, the other outdoor laborer, quickly pick up a line of jokes and empathetic comments about what it's like to work daily shifts under the sun, and I'm out of the conversation. I don't want to sound stuck up and say, "One time my aunt made me help her in her garden for twenty minutes and it was weird to feel dirt under my fingernails?" or "I once had to move furniture with my friends from the Party Gals group chat and I had to carry an ottoman and a lamp down two flights of stairs." I don't fit into the conversation, so I'll stay out of it.
Fuji could leap in, I guess. While she can't relate to the dirt under her fingernails like myself, she can empathize with the sore, aching limbs and the low wages and the creaking, rusted machinery. But she doesn't speak, watching the other two with barely-hidden contempt.
"What's wrong, girl?" I ask. We're at the start of the line, and as it moves forward, we pass the stack of trays. I grab one for myself, and a second for Fuji. I hand it to her, and she sighs, taking it from me and smiling at me in thanks.
"Well, I..." Fuji trails off. "I don't trust them." She whispers the last sentence, her voice low and husky so almost no one else besides the scrawny Eight boy behind us, who isn't paying attention, can hear her.
"I know it's sudden-" I begin.
"Millard, they scare me. Especially Ivy," she says, her voice steely when she says the Seven girl's name.
"Did I hear my name?" Ivy pipes from a couple people in front of us, where she's getting mashed potatoes plopped onto her plate by a skinny Avox.
"We were talking about you making fun of me at the axes station!" I holler back swiftly, and Ivy just chuckles, moving forward in line to receive more food.
"Nice recovery," Fuji murmurs.
"Oh come on girl, they're fine," I sigh. "I know they seem a little finicky at times, especially Ivy, but we'll be okay. We at least go through the Bloodbath with them, split the supplies, and go our separate ways from them if things aren't working out."
"She scares me," is Fuji's only reply, and I just bite my lip and keep my emotions at bay. Ivy is funny and Omri is nice, but Fuji is my friend. We've formed an extraordinary bond over the course of only a handful of days, and I wouldn't jeopardize that for anything. Ivy and Omri are sociable and strong and would be great to have in the arena, but if my closest ally doesn't want them to stick around, then they won't stick around. I hope she feels just as close to me, because we'll need each other that much if either of us is going to have any chance in hell.
We go through the line pretty fast, and we both pile our trays to the brim with food. One of Takami's focal pieces of advice was to bulk up as much as humanly possible, so we're carb-loading and sugar-loading and vegetable-loading and even water-loading, getting ourselves packed with nutrients and all of that so we have a little more to live off of in the arena. Omri and Ivy also have pretty loaded trays, and we all just simply eat and drink for a little while, the only sound at our table chewing and slurping.
"So, icebreaker," Omri finally speaks up. "Fuji, I just have to ask; where the heck did Fujitsa come from?"
Fuji's laugh is bitter and breviary, and she sort of smiles at Omri. "It was quite the riddle for me, but I think I finally figured it out last year. They have this thing in Three's schools called 'Technological History'. Of course, it seemed like an easy class. Not an easy class. But since it seemed easy, I took it. Turns out, Fujitsu was a tech company from a really long time ago. Like before-our-great-grandfathers-were-even-conceived ago. So I'm guessing that must be where it came from. My parents did meet in their Technological History class I found out not soon after, so that might be why."
"That's interesting, like seriously," Omri laughs. "Mine's boring. It means 'my sheaf'. When I was born, my dad wanted to name me something related to the District. He wanted to name me Asparagus and call me Gus. Thankfully, my mom managed to convince him to settle with Omri because it's District related but isn't too weird like Asparagus. I would've died if I was named Asparagus Plower." I smile and Ivy is chuckling loudly.
"No way. No way," Ivy giggles. "There is no way that your father was going to name you Asparagus. Does he raise asparagus or something?"
"He was born on a farm where they harvested asparagus among other things," Omri mentions, suddenly gloomy looking. "And it was his favorite vegetable."
The silence that falls over the table for the next twenty seconds is nearly unbearable, and I'm about to break the silence when Ivy shatters it.
"My name's origin is controversial," Ivy tells us. "My mom told me she wanted to name me Ivy when I was little because she wanted me to grow up like ivy grows up a wall. My one brother tells me it's because I'm poisonous and a bitch, and my father told me he named me Ivy because it was the only Seven-like name he could think of that, and I quote, 'didn't sound like the name of some whore at a brothel.' As you can see, everything in my family's pretty contested."
"Millard, what about your name? It's pretty interesting for Three," Omri says once Ivy's done. I just stare at them blankly, and a realization dawns on me.
"I don't know."
"What do you mean you don't know?" Ivy jeers, crossing her arms. "Come on, your parents have had to have told you why you were named Millard."
"I really don't know," I reply, my voice gaining an edge. I don't know because my parents never told me. It just reminds me of how damn distant they were and all of that crap, and I don't want to think about any of that period, so it's getting on my nerves that way Ivy keeps pushing the issue.
"I don't care if it's embarrassing or something, like come on, mine is pretty awful, just tell-"
"He doesn't know, Ivy," Fuji snaps, sounding almost furious. "And even if he did, when someone obviously doesn't want to talk about something you don't press it."
Everything falls silent, and Ivy is trying not scowl at a half mortified, half satisfied Fuji while Omri and I look on, both a little shocked I guess. I clear my throat and eyeball Fuji as hard as I can, trying to communicate one thing with my intense stare and waggling eyebrows and firm set mouth: Apologize to her now or we're both dead weight and we won't stand a damn chance, and I'm not ruining my chance to be in a strong alliance because you can't keep your trap shut honey.
She gets it, and quietly she murmurs, "I'm sorry. It's just intense here and I'm having...trouble dealing with the pressure of this new environment and everything that's going on, you know?" I can see her wince a little as she tells the lie. If anything, Fuji is the most assimilated to the Games way of thinking of our quartet thus far. She's starting to adapt easily while the rest of us are still disjointedly stumbling along in most respects. Ivy just nods genuinely however; she seems to have bought it, which is a relief. No matter if we like it or not, we both need this alliance to propel us a little farther into the Games. They'll help us get through the Bloodbath, they'll help us get through the first week, and then we can split from them when the Games really get kicking.
The rest of lunch is eaten with mild talking, and then when the lunch break is over, we return to our usual pairs. Ivy and Omri head off to work on the agility course, while Fuji and I head to the snares station. The trainer, a lithe looking man named Iodus, greets us with a simple smile from where he is crouched on the ground, helping the Nine girl put together a simple twitch snare. Fuji and I sit down next to the half finished trap she was working on yesterday. She was recreating it from a model that Iodus built. It's not exactly a conventional trap. A miniature catapult, rustic and basic and squeaky but workable, it should be a good defense to accentuate our alliance's strength with mostly short range weapons, like axes and swords and daggers.
"I'm sorry," Fuji mentions after a little bit. She's become focused on building her catapult, and I'm watching Iodus help...Sage I think her name is? build a twitch snare and recreating it so I know how to make one myself. I turn to her and the entire twitch snare falls apart, but I don't really care.
"It's alright," I sigh. "Just know it's you and me to the end girl, no matter what. You're Penelopee Elsannam's Unnamed Sidekick Girl to my Frippery Tubman's James Bond."
Fuji chuckles. "Still can't believe they haven't given her a name. And why am I the sidekick?!"
"Who do you think is more like a flamboyant gay rodeo cowboy, me or you?"
"Touche."
A/N: Finally I am so sorry this took forever! I've just been busy, and I also have devoted all of my writing time to 500 Years of Penance, which I've become really obsessed over. However, these four great characters pulled me back in, and it was great to write them all again! :D
By the way, my new dog is 4 years old. Her name is Abby and she is a black lab. I also have a 6 year old black lab named Shady, also a girl. They both send their love as they lay on my living room carpet, snoring obnoxiously XD Track is also going well! I've gotten my 400 down to 69 seconds, which is an accomplishment for someone like me XD
Who did you like the most here? Who did you like the least? How many kids do you think I might be killing off in the Bloodbath?
Thanks again for waiting, and I hope you're all still there to read! :D
Trivia:
Fuji (1 pt.): What is the weird Capitol accent called?
Ivy (1 pt.): What is the hatchet/axe trainer's name?
Omri (1 pt.): What is one way to find water in an entirely flat arena?
Millard (1 pt.): What did Omri's father want to name him?
Until Next Time,
Tracee