A/N: We're inching closer and closer to the Games! 5 chapters left after this one I believe! I'm so dearly sorry about the wait. Summer has taken me away to lala land and I haven't done much of anything, but with cross country and band practices starting within the week, I'm finally getting my butt into gear. Today we're visiting two Mentors whose POVs will be heavily focused on their tributes. They are Scylas Ondino of District Two and Eris Glasshine of District Twelve. Please enjoy! :D
Trigger warnings: Profanity
Eris's song is Our Own House by MisterWives, while Scylas's song is Broken Clocks by SZA.
Came in like the breeze,
I felt it in my knees
Never will it leave
Each day it is retrieved
Seems like yesterday
Your eyes craved this way
Into my soul you stared
And bored down every fear
Eris Glasshine, 24
District Twelve Mentor
My eyelids are heavy with tiredness as I croon over little Filippo. Carmen was sleepy beyond belief and passed out several hours ago, so I took the baby from his slumbering mother just to make sure he was doing alright. The boy mewls occasionally but does little else, mostly napping or curling himself up in my arms. I'm seated in one of the chairs at the dining room table, and it's mostly dark, with a few streaks of dawn flickering over the horizon. No one else is up yet. The only noises are my breathing, the on and off soft noises from the baby, and the far off clatter of the Avoxes preparing the day's breakfast spread.
Soon enough Filippo falls into another bout of deep slumber, and I tentatively pull up the holo news report, slowly leaning forward across the dining room table to press the button that releases the hologram. Clutching Filippo tight to my chest with one arm, I swipe through the pages until I get to the front page. I have my preferences shifted to show politics and movies first, so I have to bypass those to hit the rest of the paper in chronological order.
The headlines, as expected, are Games related. Several links to articles further in the report are about political shenanigans, but the rest of it is about the Games. They have the beginnings of two summaries of the interviews from two different writers for those unable to watch last night, which is exactly no one in the nation, or anyone who wants to relive them. There's also a box containing the odds for each tribute and how they're rising or falling based on betting, and how the betting odds compare to the odds given by the Gamemakers. The biggest title on the page, however, is the one I knew would be there. It reads:
PREGNANT TRIBUTE GIVES BIRTH TO BABY BOY: AN ARTICLE BY JUBILEE LAUDS.
I scan through the article. It's pretty routine for something of this nature, and I'm happy about it. If this report was a tabloid like most of the others, they would be discussing crazy hypotheses and things about the baby and Carmen that have no basis in truth. This article however is very short for an article to be fully on the front page, and details are limited. Jubilee is usually a much better writer than this. That tips me off that something is not quite right, but it's still to early to look too deep into things.
Over the next hour, the sun starts to truly rise. An Avox delivers me a coffee with two sugars and cream, the way I like it, while the others lay out the breakfast options. Soon after they do that, Carmen is the first to emerge, still looking tired but a little worried, probably because Filippo wasn't in her arms when she awoke. She spots her bundle of joy wrapped in my arms, and she visibly relaxes.
"I was worried that they had already come to take him," Carmen whispers, and she takes her infant son from me and swaddles him close. He begins to kick happily upon entering his mother's arms, and she goes back to her room for a little to do something, probably to either nurse or go to the bathroom. Carmen peeks out a minute or two later, and an Avox scuttles over. She asks for diapers, and the Avox gets them in no time. Carmen is back out in a minute or so, Filippo outfitted in a new cloth diaper.
I almost make a remark about how good she is at this for being a seventeen year old mother, but then I remember she already, crazily, has three other kids. I knew things were rough, and people start families very early in Twelve in case they won't be around long, but Carmen started early early. I don't really judge, and it's interesting that the father is still around and invested in the family. At least there's hope for them.
"I wanted to talk to you about something," Carmen sighs. She swallows heavily and looks up at me. "I...we know that I'm not making it back. I'll try my darnedest, but we both know that even if I'd showed up without the baby, I probably would've only scored a 3 or 4. This isn't going to be easy, and my allies aren't going to help me much. They'll just mostly hinder me. I know I should probably leave them, but they're so nice-"
"You want me to know if I'll take care of your family as much as I can if you don't make it out," I finish gently, cutting off her anxious rambling. "You know I have it covered Carmen. Just relax, and enjoy your day with Filippo. If you need anything, I'm right here."
Carmen smiles at me, tears shimmering in her eyes, but they recede. She looks as if she wants to hug me, but she has to keep her hands on Filippo. So she just grins wider and nods her head in wordless thanks, too grateful to put together a sane sentence in thanks. I get it. She gets up after eating some croissants and slices of peach, walking out to the balcony. One of the Avoxes opens the door for her, and she strides out onto the balcony, disappearing from my view to go sit in one of the seats outside. I turn back to see that my holo report has faded, and I grab a piece of bacon, nibbling at it.
I'm not worried about supporting Carmen's family, at least for a time. I may not be rich by Capitol standards, but I have more than enough money, and I don't spend most of it on the endless froufrou clothing and makeup since I have a more District-like look. What I'm worried about is the promises that will stack up, the years and years of watching more kids die and having to give money to more families to ease the spirits of the tributes I failed. I already send enough money to the families of all my dead tributes to keep each family fed out of custom. While one family was too proud to accept such donations, the others graciously took them. My bank account doesn't look that much worse for wear, but if I keep up at this job in twenty years, I'll be sucked dry, and not just of money. My soul's already gaunt as it is from doing this job for a few meager years. I could never go back to the partying teen who valued liquor above a relationship and compassion that I was, that most Capitolites still are. I'll be just skin and bones emotionally if I keep watching all these kids die, if I have to write forty odd checks a month to the dead families as my tears taint the sorry gifts that are not enough to erase the loss of a child. I wish I could do more, but sometimes I selfishly wish I could recede and not have to do this any longer.
I really hope one of my kids wins this year, and takes over. I would be sad to lose my spot, but more relieved than anything to unburden myself, selfish as it sounds. I'm only 24. I'm not ready to keel over and become a broken backed woman without a nice bone in my body after watching so much carnage as a Mentor. I'll stick with this job to the bitter end, but I sorely hope that the end for me is nearer than farther.
All I got is these broken clocks
I ain't got no time
Just burning daylight
Still up still up
Its still love its
Still love still love still loving still love
Nothing but love for you
Scylas Ondino, 25
District Two Mentor
The Pre-Games are nearing their end. Interviews are over, and the last thing left for today is the Fun Day, where the tributes get to have their last hurrah, stuffing themselves to the brim with sugars and fats and going on so many roller coasters that they puke it all back up. It's a great experience for the Outer District kids who have never even heard of the multitude of different soda brands the Capitol offers, and its a way for the Pack to bond and let off some steam before the Games begin. For the Mentors, it's also our last day off before we're stuck in the Mentoring hot seat for a couple of weeks, barely sleeping or eating, eyes always glued to our giant monitors, watching our tributes intensely and sending help and advice when possible.
While this day is usually spent by most Mentors eating, napping, and visiting friends in the Capitol, the Careers never are fully at rest. As Tyberios and Ardin put on normal clothes to go explore the upper regions of the Tribute Center with the rest of their Pack, Serephina and I gather some paperwork and get ready to depart. While our tributes will be having fun today, Serephina and I will be plotting, planning, and negotiating with the other Career Mentors.
It's something we always do on this day in the Games. We meet at the same cafe near the Tribute Center called Marvalli's, a place that Clay, our District's first Victor, put into the spotlight by eating there every time he comes to the Capitol. It's a hot spot for celebrities, and they have a special back room reserved for any stray Victor that is open 24/7. They especially favor Career Victors however, and they graciously host our Pack discussions on this day every year.
We part with our tributes with a few quick nods, and we step onto elevator as Tyberios and Ardin finish eating their breakfasts at the table with Cretta. The doors snap closed, and the elevator carries us down to the lobby. None of the other four Mentors attending the brunch are down here, either walking to the restaurant or coming down from their rooms, which leaves Serephina and I alone to have a preparatory conversation.
"So we're not negotiating for Ardin to lead the pack, correct?" I ask as the two of us stride confidently out of the revolving doors that lead in and out of the Tribute Center. The moment we hit the sidewalks Capitolites are all around gasping and giggling and snapping pictures. An armed guard of four Peacekeepers wordlessly surrounds us to escort us to Marvalli's. It's not that we can't take care of ourselves; they want people to leave us alone, and they don't want their beloved Victors to have to become violent or rude to their public while they're heading to a brunch.
"No. It's in her best interests and in favor of her angle to fade back and let Oisin's boy take the reigns. She shouldn't have even squabbled about it in the first place. Ardin is a good liar, but she struggles to fit into a box and a single definition. She doesn't like to pretend that she's something less than she is," Serephina replies, clucking her tongue. "At least she's trying harder than Venia would've been. That girl would've been so unapologetically domineering that Oisin's boy would've probably clipped her at the Bloodbath with the approval of the rest of the Pack. She would've thrived as a loner however."
"Better to not get hung up on the bygones," I mutter lightly.
"Oh yes, you just know I took personal interest in both of those girls," Serephina sighs. "It's rough to squash one of their dreams. But yes, Ardin will bow down from the fight and will take the position of follower in the beginning. Letting her be leader would backfire, and I feel that's what Oisin would like. Set us up for failure. His boy is too vicious to be swayed to any of his logic, however. We're lucky he has such a cocky one this time."
"And sponsor funds? Tyberios's medicine will be expensive. There has been possibilities of pooling Trinity and Tyberios's funds to afford him medicine since they seem to be a duo that will later break off from the Pack at the split. It may not be necessary, however. We'll have to see sponsorship turnout fully for Tyberios," I inform.
"I hope that boy understands that his partner isn't just another dumb blonde, although she isn't trying to play up that act," Serephina murmurs. "She's heartless enough to fuck him over before he fucks her over. However, it's probably the best choice for him, as Ardin would like to be alone after the breakup, Chavez is too unpredictable, and the other two seem to have already paired."
"So it's confirmed that the Reaped girl is in it?" I inquire, looking over to Serephina. She's about three or four inches shorter than me, but her heels make her the same height, maybe even a little taller. It's nice to feel equal to the woman that was my superior for so long; it's still an adjustment to call her Serephina instead of Headmistress, even after almost seven years since my Victory, when I earned the right.
"She's in, although we'll have to formally agree at the brunch," Serephina replies, keeping her eyes focused ahead. We turn a corner, and Marvalli's appears on the horizon. Serephina smiles softly as we make the short rest of our trip to the restaurant. The Peacekeepers remain outside with several others who probably escorted the others here. It's okay for us to be the last ones here. As the biggest power players in the Pack, the others would never verbally disrespect a tardy arrival in fear of us siccing our tributes on them. It's a little arrogant, but it's the truth.
A nicely dressed hostess leads us back through the open air cafe to the secluded table a great distance from the others, guarded by one way mirrors; everyone in the restaurant just sees their reflections, while we can see out. The vain citizens of the Capitol are happy to get to look at themselves and forget to have a fangasm over the fact that there's probably Victors inside of those glass walls. There's always a guard, imported from Two and handpicked from the Academy by Clay, that keeps guard of the restaurant and the Victors' lounge when there are Victors occupying it. I smile at the man after he unlocks the door to the lounge and lets us in.
Esquiria, Kenyan, Oisin, and Mags all sit around the beautiful, sculpted metal, glass, and wood table. Esquiria sits prim and proper in her seat, looking as passive and disinterested as ever as she inspects her nails, a pale blue cocktail sitting in front of her. Kenyan and Oisin are talking and whooping with heavy laughter, sipping at their beers. Mags straightens when I enter the room, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear and slurping at her whiskey rather obnoxiously. I sit down next to her anyway, while Serephina sits between myself and Esquiria. The board is complete.
The meeting buzzes past in a blur. Serephina does most of the negotiating and discussing as the definite leader of all things diplomatic and political that has to deal with our District in the Games, and I get to mainly focus on enjoying the rich brunch supplied and chatting with Mags. We both add our own points and supplement the statements of our superiors, but we're the most insignificant people in the room. Serephina and Oisin steer the ships for our Districts. Meanwhile, while Esquiria and Kenyan are very opposite in terms of personality, they have a great working relationship, and are effective as a duo. Mags and I are there just to complete the board and add in comments, but we're not here to do much else but eat french toast and interject.
I guess I drink one too many bloody marys, because when the meeting is adjourned around noon, I find myself sitting alone in the Victor's room with a similarly tipsy Mags. The One crew had embarked to attend to sponsorship forms with their escort, and Serephina left soon after to go visit an old friend in the poorer southern streets of the Capitol. Note that poor means that those Capitolites can only afford to buy six couture gowns a season, as opposed to the twelve-odd that the upper crust usually purchase. Oisin can take many beers and seemed as if he was going to stay around to party, but something motivated him to leave. I can't really remember. I'm just in a haze right now, and the waiter has stopped coming in with more whiskeys for Mags and bloody marys for myself.
The door is locked. No one can see inside. And Mags is giggling. And sitting close to me. Really close. Like so close she can probably feel the short, shallow exhales from my nostrils now that I've realized out proximity. Mags has a sly smile on her face, but it's not the sarcastic one that she makes fun of me with. It's something I've never seen before, and it's as if someone's shattered the glazed over look on her eyes that hides everything. They sparkle in the lights of the lounge, and when our lips connect I know that we've both been waiting for this moment for a while. Sexual tension is sweetest when it's finally relieved.
We don't fuck or do anything but kiss, and it sweet, sitting there for a long while, lost in a half-drunken blur, kissing the woman I would never admit that I had a thing for. Mags Flanagan seems untouchable, but I guess I probably seemed untouchable to her as well. Insecurities just made us torture ourselves for a couple years longer than necessary, but the influx of buildup just makes the moment sweeter.
When we finally part, we fix ourselves up and part with light smiles. There are no signs of what just happened; the columnists won't be chattering in their tabloids about a hickey on her neck or some of her lipstick smeared on my cheek. If they do, it'll be all lies. We don't speak or touch as we walk back to the Tribute Center, as if nothing has changed and we're just two Mentors in a perfunctory work relationship. We don't crack demeaning jokes either, however, and her eyes are still sparkling when we part ways.
Well, I just kissed Mags Flanagan. The repercussions of this are going to be...interesting, to say the least.
A/N: That was a fun update I hope, and I liked writing these two. Scylas and Mags (Scyags? Maglas?!) has been in the back of my mind for a while now. Next chapter will be the Fun Day, and then the Last Night, Last Morning, and then Into the Tubes and the Countdown. And then I'll start murdering your darlings :/ We're really getting close!
What did you think of these two POVs? I hope they were enjoyable :D Also, what's up with y'all? I haven't gotten to post or talk to people a lot, so if you have anything going on, I'd be happy to chat for a little :)
Trivia:
Eris (1 pt.) - What is the name of the journalist who wrote the bare bones article about Filippo's birth?
Scylas (1 pt.) - What is the name of the restaurant?
Until Next Time (probably soon I hope),
Tracee