Bloodbath? Not yet, that's next chapter! We're so close it's insane, but hey, here we go.
Welcome to the launch.
Thanks to Remus98 who reviewed, and symphorophilia for his lovely comments!
Disclaimer: I don't own the Hunger Games in any way shape or form. I only own the arena I have created.
"I don't fight without being prepared, even when I lose." ~Lyoto Machida
Leila Caréton, Twenty, District Three, Victor of the 77th Hunger Games
The walk down to the airship is silent.
It's an agonising journey that I've had to make every single year. It's the final send-off, the goodbye that leaves my mouth in a state of perpetual sordidity. Yet, I must make this journey, even with Parker's quiet whispering about kissing and Naydene's air of optimism. These two tributes are flesh and blood, but it may be a matter of days, or even hours before they are dropped into the snake pit to succumb to its poison.
I don't doubt my abilities as a mentor, but there was never a rulebook. I never had someone to show me the ropes. As District Three's only living mentor, I had to use my mind to strategise the best I could to advise my tributes in the way that I could. I've failed so many times now that I expect this entire experience to be a numb one, but every year I'm reminded of my continuous failures. My own brother, twelve years old, died quickly in the 78th Hunger Games, and since then I question my worth as someone who holds children's lives in the palms of my hands.
Probably the only reason I'm not blind drunk is because of Nate.
We won back to back Games and met each other in my first year mentoring. There was a connection between the two of us and we've hit it off ever since then. I know the Capitol are all about their gossip, but Nate and I aren't together…at least not yet. I can tell he's interested, and I am too. But then there's living in different Districts, with different expectations and living different lives. Could long-distance really work for the two of us? I don't know, but Nate's always been my rock, my shoulder to cry on. I love him, regardless of context or societal speculation. I don't think either of us knows how to describe it.
I shake my head with a small smile, which draws a questioning look from Naydene that I don't respond to. Before I know it, I'm handing my tributes over and they're boarding the airship, strapping into their chairs amongst a small sea of mixed reactions. I turn away before my heart reminds itself of Lou.
When you lose someone, it never really goes away.
That's why, when I won my Games, I was a fool to think that I could experience any more pain. In a cruel twist of fate, Lou was reaped for the 78th and he died in that arena. I did everything I could; including moving all of my sponsor money to help him, but he didn't last much longer than the bloodbath.
I cried for about three days after that.
I board a separate airship to Parker and Naydene, sandwiched between the mentors from Two and Four. They're all chatting amongst themselves, and while I don't participate, I can't exactly drown them out.
"So, we want to make sure our focus is on whoever performs better at the bloodbath, be it Vanity or Landon," Helena is saying, her messy bun a cover for her sharp eyes and angular features. "Then we'll focus on who shows the most growth and potential."
Ava and Kian, both newer mentors like myself, listen to Helena attentively, although Ava looks bored and Kian more thoughtful. Helena won the 60th Games, and she played everyone because of how underestimated she was. She's not exactly the taller, leaner, well-built type of victor you'd expect from a model Career tribute. Ava and Kian won their Games in completely different ways; Ava's was bloody and violent, while Kian, while still racking up five kills, was stealthier and played a quieter game. I shudder at the thought of going into an arena with them, and to think, if I'd won the Games a few years before, I could have done. The 75th Hunger Games was no more a disaster as it was a slaughter for victors. Not to mention, of course, the slaughter of all but twelve remaining victors after that.
It's disgusting, hearing the Career mentors talk about their tributes like one of them has to be prioritised over the other. Okay, fine, I can admit that the strategy of focusing on the Career who seems the most competent is a smart idea if you want someone to survive. But that doesn't deny the reason why the other tribute shouldn't get any attention. Both tributes are yours to mentor and develop. There's a magic to discovering untapped potential, and while the Games is the worst way to do it, there's still something there. Parker's smart, Naydene doesn't give up. That might not count for a lot, but it does count for something. I've seen tributes win with less.
I'd never condone the Hunger Games, but that's beside the point. Since this is currently my reality, I have to focus on doing what I'm supposed to do. I don't think Panem can summon another rebellion, and so I've ended up with this life...and Nate.
The airship finally lands, and I'm whisked off the rumbling machine and towards the tribute deposit centre, where I'm going to have to say goodbye. Waiting for the tributes to have their trackers installed takes its time, and I'm left watching the TV nearby as I wait for the confirmation to meet with Parker and Naydene for what may be the last time.
Dallas Cornwall is discussing this year's tributes and describing them in great detail, recapping what we already know. I settle down and boredly watch a few strands of hair threatening to fall out of place, teetering on his silvery head. Ah, Capitol fashions. They get old so fast.
Finally, a knock of the door draws my attention, and a Peacekeeper walks in.
"Miss Caréton," he greets me. "You may see your tributes now."
It's time to say goodbye.
Chive Hart, Forty-Three, District Eleven, Victor of the 54th Hunger Games
So long, farewell.
Cleve and Morgana, both adept tributes, both with different alliances.
I've been edgy around the Career mentors, but I've had to liaise with them since Morgana's decided that she wants to jump in with them. Outlier tributes allying with Careers isn't unknown, but it's not overly common either, and often ends badly for the outlier tribute/s. Cleve has also got himself an alliance with the strong boy from Nine, and two younger tributes; the girl from Nine and the boy from Six. I don't see the Six boy lasting long, but the Nine girl's score during training was enough for me to know that Cleve should be in safe hands for the time being.
It would be a lie to say that I'm confident. It's been so long since I've had tributes who showed potential that I've almost forgotten what it felt like. Then again, living for a long-dead rebellion is also a faded dream and a foolish memory. Visiting both of my tributes is going to be tough.
I go to Morgana first, knowing that she'll probably be confident and ready for what's to come. As soon as I'm through the door, she's on me, hugging me.
"I'm shitting myself," she mutters, letting out a breathy laugh.
"So you should be," I tell her. "There's no point in hiding it. Be ready, be prepared. Or as prepared as you can be."
Morgana nods at this and looks over at her tube.
"I expect the arena could be anything," I suggest, only seeing the windproof, waterproof jacket she has on, decorated in a kaleidoscope of colours, complete with an '11' on her shoulder. "But I wouldn't doubt anyone out there for a second. Even the younger tributes got decent scores."
"I'm more focused on the Careers," Morgana explains honestly. "Sure, there's younger tributes and other alliances, but tracking them down shouldn't be a problem. It's the other Careers who I'm watching out for. I don't want anyone to backstab me."
"Well that's a fair plan," I acknowledge. "Just don't count the others out."
Morgana lets out a nervous sigh and straightens up.
"I don't want to be mean but you're actually making me more nervous?" she laughs. "But thank you. For everything."
Taking this as my cue to leave, I hug the girl once more and send her a small smile before stepping out of the door. I expected Morgana to psyche herself up, I just hope she doesn't dabble too much in paranoia. Career or not, she'll need them to survive.
I follow the black marble tiles around in a curve until I finally reach Cleve's door. I nod to a couple of mentors as a pass, but I don't say a word; I don't have the time for chit chat and pleasantries right now.
As I sidle into the room, Cleve is there rifling through several clothes bags, getting ready to go. He pauses at the sight of me and offers me a solemn smile. I give him a brief hug before taking a look over the clothes. Cleve doesn't like to be babied, so I try to give him his space and independence, even if his youth is deceiving of his mature nature. Unzipping the bags, I discover a thick multi-coloured bodysuit, with lightly tinted goggles, and that thick coat Morgana was wearing before. With thermals added on top, I raise an eyebrow at the final item; a small, but lightweight parachute, multi-coloured like the rest of the attire.
"You'll be high up," I notice immediately. "Somewhere where you might fall. Judging by these parachutes though, they'll only cover short-distance falls, not long ones. Yes, I definitely think you'll be high up somewhere."
Cleve nods at this as if he expected for a twist to be thrown in by the Gamemakers.
"Do you think there'll be bombs like last year?" he asks simply. "That would be useful."
I chuckle at his words, but with a shake of my head, I help him put the coat on and the goggles on his head.
"Somehow, I think the Gamemakers found that unsustainable last year," I explain. "At least you won't be attacked by those kinds of weapons this year."
"I'll probably be attacked by some other weapon though."
"Yes, you will," I don't sugarcoat it. I have no reason to. "But you have strong allies to protect you and teach you some new skills. You've got a chance of surviving all of this, y'know. You're no average thirteen-year-old."
Cleve smiles at that, grateful for the recognition.
"That's right," he admits. "But I'm realistic enough to know how hard this will be to win."
"In that case then, I'm looking forward to you succeeding."
Cleveland Garfield. Please step on to the tribute podium. You have sixty seconds.
The cool, clinical voice moves Cleve from his spot. Before he leaves though, he grabs my hand and squeezes it.
"I know it's not easy…all of this," he sighs. "I know it's hard for us too, but you do this every year. If I don't come back, keep going Chive. Don't give up."
I smile slightly at his words. It's touching, his concern for me, even though I know I'm as 'fine' as a mentor can be.
"Thanks, Cleve," I answer. "Now, you go out there and show Panem what District Eleven is made of."
Cleve laughs, but his grin quickly vanishes as he steps on to his podium and the glass tube slams down on either side of him. I give him one last thumbs up before his podium slowly begins to rise, waiting until he can no longer see me before I dart out of the door and back down the corridor towards the airship. I'll be able to watch live events in the lounge here before we're taken back to the main hub of the Capitol, so hopefully, District Eleven will really show up this year.
Even so, I'm not excited, I'm prepared.
Prepared to fight once again, for two children I barely know, but truly love.
Royce, Mona, Leila, Chive and Luke (who you met Ch8).
That wraps up my five main mentors for Picking Up The Pieces - they're the focus of this story before the other characters of the Fawkes Verse come out to play. I'm just waiting for the victor of this story to come along and join them~
More of the subplot will come later, but for now let's get ready for the bloodbath, because oh yes, we're SO ready to go. Hm, how long should I make you wait? I'm kidding, see you on the 2nd December for that!
Leila's poor brother died in the Games, and yet she still fights. How did you find her?
Chive's tributes are fierce and on the inside, so is she. What did you think of the arena outfit and her POV?
Any arena predictions? Bloodbath predictions?
Stay safe and well, support those who need it, and most of all, kill tributes!
Over and out!
~Mental