The Hotel: Duels

A/N: The Hotel finale coming at you. Fair warning: this is the first time in my entire life I've cried while writing something. So. Yeah. Enjoy!

~When it gets dark outside

In you I confide

You help me face my demons

I won't hide, hide~

River

There were three times River had run, the air rushing by her ears, her feet carrying her as fast as she possibly could go. The first time she had been just nine. She was tracking a deer and when she reached the end of the trail she had found that a lone wolf had gotten to it first. It locked eyes with her and growled. River ran, and didn't realize until ten minutes later that the wolf had never started chasing after her.

The second time was when the metal birds had come and rained fire from the sky. The forest was ablaze, the village was chaos, screaming and loud explosions. She ran through the woods, dodging through burning bushes and grass, searching for Wanderer. She never found him. As hard as River tried, she couldn't remember herself ever stopping running. She just remembered her feet hitting against grass, the smell of smoke in the air, screams ringing out all around her.

The third time was through a flooded basement, a towering animal unlike anything she had ever seen before chasing after her while she stumbled through sludge and around crumbling walls.

The noise seemed to attract other attention, and more of the animals came, the same ones that had been in her forest on the first day, the ones that almost looked like people. They were the shy ones though, the ones that hunted, and they stayed out of her way, or maybe more likely the big animal's way.

She reached a wall that had just a narrow gap in it that had been busted open, and she slid her backpack off, letting it drop to the floor abandoned as she shimmied through, clutching tightly to her bow and quiver.

Her foot got caught on something, and she had to yank it free, a muted scream coming from her as a sharp piece of metal cut across her ankle. But it was through, and she stumbled backwards, splashing into water that was up to her knees now. The animal came crashing into the wall, and the entire thing nearly fell as it did so, but it held sturdy. River stood up and took a moment to take in her situation.

She couldn't fight something like that. But it was like the animals from the forest. It was blind. And it seemed less attuned to its senses than the smaller ones, throwing punches at the wall as it roared yet again.

River slid through the water as quietly as she could, wincing as her ankle dipped into the brown sludge water, bringing a sharp sting. She limped forward, soft on her feet, sure not to make any splashes.

One of the animals was just ahead of her, barely visible in the dim light, crouched down and looking ready to attack. Slowly she placed an arrow in her string, nokked it back, and released.

The arrow split the animal, going through its eye and dropping it into the water. The big animal roared, and that roar was followed by a quieter chatter of screams and splashing footsteps that came from all around her. It rushed toward the spot of the one that River had killed, though, and she took the distraction to slink her way closer to the light where she had dropped.

With more light, she could take in her bearings more effectively. There was a staircase, just the same as the one she had used on the floor above, it was just on the other side of the room, the giant creature waiting in between her and escape.

Footsteps continued to splash through the water around her, and the big animal roared out at the noise, and did something strange. It brought its hand to its gut, ripped out a piece of its flesh, and threw it toward a clump of smaller animals that were crawling through the water and screeching. The chunk of flesh detonated as it landed, a puff of fumes launching into the air that had River backing away, not wanting to breathe in anything that came from an animal like that.

She heard splashing footsteps behind her, and she quickly drew and spun around, releasing an arrow as she did. The animal lashed out at her, but the arrow sent it launching backward, its hand swiping out just inches from her face as it fell into the water.

River started running again. She got halfway across the room before she went to a full stop and froze, being as still as possible. The big animal was still investigating the spot that the smaller one had been killed, spinning around as it roared viciously.

She steadied herself, and counted her arrows. Just three left. There was no way she could get all the way to the door. The animals were almost all over there, scrambling around just in front of the exit. She had to find a way to distract them.

With the big animal still distracted, she took the time to sneak into the room that was nearby, sliding through the much larger gap and frantically looking around the room for anything that might make noise.

Her eyes landed on a bottle, and she almost let out a relieved sigh, quickly picking it up. But there was something strange about it. It wasn't empty, for starters, but there was also a rag tied to the front, covering it. She took in a whiff, and even over the stench of sewer water and acid and death, she could still smell the burn of alcohol. Right next to the bottle on the table was something else she recognized from her time in the Capitol.

A lighter.

She took a moment to examine the two objects. Just throwing a bottle would distract them for a moment, but would it be enough to get them all away from the door? And even if it was, with that many of them, not all of them would run to the sound of a bottle breaking. Some would stay behind. She had to make a distraction big enough for all of them.

A memory flashed through her head. The night that she had run from the wolf that didn't chase her, Wanderer had spoken to her at the fire.

"Silly girl. Wolf runs much faster than your small feet."

'What do I do?' She had signed back to him, unable to think of the words to express the idea.

"You must make wolf afraid. More afraid of you, then you are of it. No thing hunts a thing it fears."

The small flame lit up the room in a faint glow as she flicked it on, and she held it up to the rag that was damp with the same alcohol that filled the bottle. She took them both in her hand, and hurried back outside, her hands shaking as she held onto them.

The big animal roared as she ran out into the main room, her footsteps pounding as loud as her heart. It turned towards her and seemed ready to run at her. Behind it, a group of the smaller creatures all scurried in the shadows. As if they were afraid of the light.

River flicked the lighter back on, lit the rag, and threw the bottle as hard as she could muster. It sailed through the air, illuminating the darkness as it cast a light on the scaly flesh of the big animal just as it started stomping toward her.

The glass smashed against its chest, and flames came alive in the darkness.

A horrible screeching came from the animal as it thrashed around, stumbling back and forth as it swung wildly. The smaller animals joined in the screeching, and she lost sight of them as they ran away from the main room and the light and the fire.

Her heart was beating faster than it ever had before, but she held herself steady and for the fourth time in her life, forced herself to run as fast as her small feet would carry her. The animal didn't even seem to notice her as it began to stumble to the ground, and she made sure to keep away from it, dodging as far into the shadows as she dared while she continued her dash to the door.

She could hear screeching behind her, footsteps and splashing water all around, but she just kept running. She reached the door and shoved it open, but didn't stop even as the door slammed shut behind her and left her alone. She just kept on running, not imagining herself ever stopping.

Marquise Clifton

Marquise seemed to always be one step behind. Every time that something happened, he wasn't there to see it through. It was like he was walking through disasters. It had been five days spent wandering the arena, and since the first night he hadn't run into a single other living thing. Frustration wasn't the right descriptor, but it was something close.

But this would have to be it. Everyone would be headed to the hotel, and there would be conflict there. He was unsure how the boy from Ten had managed to survive so long with his allies, and the same went for the quiet girl from Twelve. Regardless, there was soon to be a fight in this place, and this time he would be ready to fight for those who couldn't.

The dining hall was empty, but it was clear that it hadn't been for long. One of the fruit bowls was nearly empty, a few loaves of bread and an entire platter all missing from where they seemed to belong. At least one tribute had been there already, most likely more than that. He was surprised to see that nobody was waiting there, particularly one of the Career duos left in the arena that were doubtless searching for a fight.

Marquise wondered for a while if it would be a good idea to just wait and see who came. He sat at the table, folding a napkin over his lap as he quenched his appetite with a few rolls of bread and some sticky rice. It was a half-hour by the time he finished his meal, and still nobody had arrived. If it weren't for the massive display of fresh, warm food, he would have started to doubt that he was in the right place.

He decided to go for a different approach. He had tried his best to be approachable and unthreatening during training, but the arena had a way of putting people on edge. Maybe some of them had arrived, and left when they saw Marquise sitting obliviously inside the dining hall.

For that reason Marquise packed up and left, making sure to take a few loaves of bread for the road as he left the feast behind. The hotel had a few fire exits, but only one way to enter that he knew of, a massive lobby with swinging double doors. Marquise would wait in the lobby, and it wouldn't take long for someone to come by.

At least that's what he had told himself six hours ago. Marquise thought himself a patient person, but he was wearing thin. To make matters worse, an hour earlier a canon had gone off, and there was no telling who it had been.

He had tried to use the time to reflect. He needed to be focused, so he couldn't meditate, slipping away from his senses. But he had plenty of time to think. About the path his life had taken him in. About the people who had led him to become the person who he was today. Most of all, he thought of what he had done with his final days.

Marquise had done good back in District Eleven, of that he was certain. Enough to outweigh the bad he had done? Who was he to say for sure, but he would hesitate to think he was even close. But it was still something. But in the Capitol what had he done?

He was friendly to others, and had tried to make others feel comfortable with where they were, and where they were headed. He had even spent some time trying to teach the two kids from District Six to meditate. And now they were both dead.

That thought was enough to finally shatter his patience, and he stood up, taking hold of his bo-staff and heading toward the staircase. He wasn't sure where it was he was headed, but he needed to go somewhere. The dining hall on the second floor was still empty, so he went wandering through the halls, trying to find some sort of sign.

He was just about ready to give up when he heard what sounded like sobbing coming from behind one of the doors as he passed by it. He leaned in closer, and confirmed what he was hearing. It was somebody crying.

Marquise carefully slid the door open, making sure to do it as slowly as possible. He knocked softly on the door for good measure as he slowly slid it open, not wanting to scare or shock whoever was inside.

The door creaked open, and Jamie Curie barely peered up at him from where he was lying on the ground, tears streaming down his cheeks, his entire body shaking as he held tightly to his shoulders, his skin a sickly pale.

And on the ground beside him was the boy from Three, a dagger in his heart. Marquise followed the blood to Jamie's hands, arms, and neck. More than all of that, Marquise saw Jamie's wrist, the unmistakable sign of a bite leaving its mark. It wasn't hard to connect the dots from there. Marquise had seen more of the creatures and seen them closely. They used to be human, and they all had one thing in common, from the most infected and overgrown of them to the ones that were so close to human they could almost be mistaken for one.

They all had a bite mark on them.

Marquise approached Jamie, kicking away the dagger subtly as he sat next to the boy who still barely seemed to notice his presence, curled into a ball while violent shudders jerked through his body.

He sat next to him for a while in silence, knowing what he had to do but unable to build up the courage. Unwilling, maybe. That was always the true root of inability. But this was something that he should find himself unwilling to do. That should be a good thing.

"I don't know why I killed him," Jamie said, breaking the silence. His words came intermixed with sobs, his head shaking as the words spilled out. "I didn't want to. I just did and-and-"

He broke into more sobs with that, unable to let any further words out as he buried himself deep into his knees, his body continuing to twitch all the while.

"You know," Marquise said, his voice was gentle and quiet, distant almost as he looked back in his mind. "I did some truly terrible things in my past. Not that long ago. Not really, even if it feels like it sometimes." He paused, looking down at his hands as he forced himself to relive the memory of his next words. "I killed a man. It wasn't my own two hands, but it was my judgement, my decision. He tried to escape with a satchel of jewelry and other valuables. He got caught, and my father asked me what he should do with the man. I was sixteen years old, and my father said whatever I decided would be the judgement. It was a test."

Silence filled the air for a while, and Marquise let in a deep breath through his nose, sighing as he closed his eyes and shook his head. "Sometimes, we do terrible, terrible things. To ourselves and to others. But we're more than just our worst moments. No matter how bad those moments may be. You aren't evil Jamie, or a monster. I just need you to understand that."

Jamie seemed like he wanted to say something to that, but he just continued to choke out more sobs, continuing to bury his head into his lap, his hands raking through his hair.

"Sometimes we do things that go against everything we are, everything we believe. Not because we want to, but because we have to. Because despite how much it hurts you to do it, no matter how much it stains your very soul, it's what has to be done. It's the right thing to do. The weight of our souls and ease of our consciences aren't more important than doing what's right. You're a good person, Jamie. People will remember that."

He still remembered the movement, the subtle flick of the wrist that his father had taught him with the intention of harm. The dagger went into the back of his neck, severing the spinal cord just above the scapula. Instant and painless. His sobs cut off abruptly. The canon went off before his body could even slump forward to the ground.

Tears stained Marquise's cheeks, and he shakily set the dagger to the ground, slowly climbed to his feet, and slid both of the boys' eyelids shut.

Troy Magnison

It was getting too close to the end for Troy's comfort. He had wanted to stay and wait in the dining hall on the second floor, but Vivian had fought strongly against the idea, eventually winning him over. They brought up fair points, he trusted Talon Olympus to not pull tricks even if Vivian did not, but he didn't wish to scare off any others from the feast. He would not be the reason that the others that were still alive would go hungry for the day.

Although, it was getting to the point where there weren't many others left. It was just five others, and until the faces appeared in the sky there would be no way to know who had fallen. Troy could only hope that it had not been Talon. If he weren't to give him a worthy fight, who would?

So instead they waited outside. It was once a building, where they waited, but it had been torn apart and no longer had even a ceiling, and was missing an entire wall. Inside was almost entirely empty with concrete flooring, perfect for a battle.

Vivian seemed keenly aware of Troy's impatience as he continued to stare up at the sky in worry as darkness slowly overtook the day. They were content, scouting out the area as they held their bow, ready at a moment's notice.

"He's still alive, I guarantee it," Vivian said. "They want you two to fight, so they aren't gonna take him out with mutts, and who else that's left would kill him?"

"Perhaps," he said, trying to not let his worry be visible. "But waiting was never a talent that I learned. I wish for this fight to come."

Vivian paused, looking up from their bow. "You really can't wait, huh?" They asked, and there was something in their voice that told him that wasn't a question of curiosity.

"It is all I've wanted for so long," he said, and he smiled but even in this moment, so close to that dream, he felt closer to sadness than joy. "And now it's finally within my reach."

"So you'll die, and then what?" They held up a finger before he could speak. "I don't mean for you."

Troy was silent for a while, while Vivian stared down at their bow, fiddling with an arrow, sharpening the point. "You're a fierce warrior. I have no doubt that you'll succeed with what you want just as well as I will. You will win."

"Yeah, great," they said, tossing down their arrow in frustration. They seemed to barely be holding something in, bottling it within them so that it was ready to burst.

"I'm. . . sorry, I don't understand. I thought that victory was all that you wanted?"

"It was," they said, sighing as they picked up the arrow and continued sharpening the arrowhead. "It was the only thing I cared about, because I couldn't trust in anything, or anyone, but myself. And it was a way to prove that I was still strong but-" they cut themselves short of saying something else, stopping with their mouth hanging open. They shook their head. "I should've just known that trusting someone, thinking someone would actually care, was a mistake."

"You mean me?" Troy asked.

They threw down the arrow again in frustration. This time they didn't bother to pick it back up. "Figure it out."

Troy nodded his head somberly, looking down to the ground from the stump he sat on. "You truly think I don't care about you?" He asked, and he tried to not sound as hurt as he felt.

"Well, you can't wait to go and get yourself killed, and leave me alone, so don't act like you really care that much."

"If it were goodbye of course I would be sad," Troy said, standing up and looking at her with a bemused expression. "I wouldn't be speaking of excitement and dreams, and I certainly wouldn't be wishing to fight before I would last see you." He paused, shaking his head as he took a step toward her. "But it will not be goodbye, just merely a parting of ways. I will save a seat for you beside me in Valhalla, and one day you'll join me, and we will speak of every single thing that we have done since we last parted. There's nothing I look forward to more."

"And what if it doesn't happen?" They asked, and tears were threatening to spill from their eyes. "What if you're wrong? What if this fairy-tale that you've told yourself is just that. A story. What if there is no Valhalla? What if you die and that's just it? What then?"

He thought deeply about that for a moment, then just smiled sadly. "Then I would be wrong, and it would not be a problem I would need to worry about any further."

"Doesn't that just scare you though?" They demanded. "Why would you do something like that? Why throw everything away for something that might not even be real?"

Troy took a step back, and he looked at Vivian in their eyes that were shimmering and threatened to spill over into tears. "I simply choose to believe," he said. "Nothing is certain. We choose to believe every day. And in the same way that I choose to believe in you every day, I choose to believe that my death will not be the end."

Vivian went quiet for a moment, their eyes trained on the ground. Then, they took a confident step forward, their eyes shooting up to meet Troy's as their mouth opened. They never got the chance to speak.

"Troy Magnison!"

Troy spun around at the voice of Talon Olympus, and saw the man himself standing in front of him, approaching the pair with a smile and open hands that he held freely in the air. A sword was strapped to his side, but otherwise he had no possessions with him.

"Talon Olympus!" Troy greeted amiably. He picked up his battle-axe with one arm and smiled widely. Before he could say anything else, he sent up a prayer to the Allfather.

Watch me now. Allow me to prove myself worthy of Valhalla, and dine with all warriors before and after me, until Ragnarok itself. Mother, father. Idun, I will see you again soon.

Talon Olympus

"Talon Olympus!" Troy shouted, and he looked excited as he grabbed hold of his battle-axe. Finally ready for a fight. Behind him Vivian had a bow trained on him, and he flashed a smile at them before turning his attention back to Troy.

"It's been too long, Troy. It's good to see you still in fighting shape."

"And you as well, friend," Troy shouted warmly, his whole body shaking with excitement.

Talon shrugged, still wearing an easy smile. "I've seen better days," he said, gesturing to his ankle. "But I've seen worse too, so don't worry too much about it. Regardless, Vivian Ostera, you really ought to stop pointing that bow at me."

"Give me one good reason," they said quietly, squinting at him harshly.

Talon laughed, and again shrugged. "I can think of one."

On queue, Lana leapt out of the shadows, slashing at Vivian's drawing arm. The blade cut straight across their bicep, and Vivian screamed out as they shoved Lana down to the floor. Lana dropped the dagger as she fell roughly to the floor, and with great struggle Vivian drew an arrow and trained it at her.

"Stop!" Talon shouted out, drawing his revolver and making sure that Vivian saw it aimed directly at Troy Magnison's forehead. He pulled back the hammer. "Right. There."

Vivian switched targets, scampering away from Lana as they trained their sights on Talon, still keeping an eye on Lana as they did so. She wasn't going anywhere though, holding tightly to her gut as she struggled to stand.

"In case you're thinking that you can test my reactions," Talon said calmly. "I've pulled back the hammer. If you do shoot me, even if I don't react in time, when I die I'll release the hammer, and the single bullet will enter right into your friend here's head." He turned to Troy. "Tell me, do they still let you into Valhalla if you get dropped dead without even drawing a weapon?"

"You shoot him, you're dead," Vivian threatened.

"And you shoot me, he's dead," Talon said simply. "A pretty ugly situation, huh? No winners there. Just losers all around."

"So let's not then," Troy said.

"Agreed," Talon replied, smiling. "Let's not. I have a simple proposal. Me against you, one on one. No help, no tricks, just the two of us. In return for me letting that happen instead of just shooting you in the head, you two will let Lana leave here, and you won't try to follow her. She leaves here tonight alive, no matter what happens."

Vivian looked ready to complain, but Troy got there first. "You have my word, friend."

"Good," Talon said, nodding his head. He looked over to Lana, who was barely managing to stop herself from falling over. "Lana, get out of here."

"No, I-" She said, wincing with pain as she attempted to walk over to him.

"I said get out of here," he repeated harshly. "This isn't a debate. Go back to where we talked about earlier and wait there until the faces show up in the sky." He turned away from her. "You'll know what happened by then."

He didn't have it in him to look at Lana, but she went along with what he said, staggering away and toward the hotel. She would be safe, and that injury to Vivian would have her unable to shoot any arrows for the rest of the arena. Regardless of what happened, she would have a chance.

Slowly, he set down his revolver, drew his sword, and stepped toward Troy. He did the same with his battle-axe, and his smile turned to a determined expression.

"I have much respect for you, Talon Olympus," he said. "I wish you the best in all battles to come." He held the battle-axe up in the air.

"Yeah," Talon said, twirling the sword in his hand. "Good luck."

The battle began.

Troy charged into him headfirst, and Talon feinted forward, getting him into a defensive stance as Talon backed away, out of the long reach of the battle-axe as it swung through the empty air ahead of him.

Talon took his opportunity to close the gap, stepping forward and attacking with tempo. He struck at his center, forcing Troy to block with the handle. His ankle threatened to give out with every step, and he tried to keep the battle stationary, slashing out and then retreating and attacking again, not giving the man any room for counterattack.

He wasn't getting any closer to striking the man, either, though. He wasn't just a brute, and his command of his weapon was good. Better than Talon's, probably. But as long as he could keep the man from getting the room he needed to rear up a lumberjack swing, he could keep himself safe. All he needed was one slip-up. One minor distraction, a call to Valhalla that had him leaving his defenses more open than they needed to be.

But nothing was coming. Sweat slicked from Talon's forehead as he pressed forward, grappling with Troy for a moment as they locked with one another. Talon was able to push forward just an inch before the man counter-attacked, shoving him back with all his might. Talon staggered back a full foot, barely catching himself from falling to the ground, his ankle nearly giving out underneath him.

Now Troy had the space he needed to let loose. He came with speed this time, swinging wildly and crudely, nowhere near Talon, but it was enough to get him to back up, forcing him to continue to retreat. Troy closed the gap again, and this time his swing was on target. Talon brought up his sword to deflect, and the force sent shockwaves through his hand, nearly causing him to lose his grip as he narrowly deflected the battle-axe away from his side.

It was Talon's turn to slash out this time, and he did so desperately, sending a wild one-armed swing towards Troy's head that the man easily sidestepped. Talon pushed forward again, jabbing forward at the man's gut.

He was ready for the attack. Troy sidestepped, brought down his battle-axe onto Talon's sword, and this time he was unable to keep hold as it went clattering to the floor. Talon's hands went to his belt, and he quickly pulled out his dagger, and stabbed out at Troy.

Troy seemed taken off-guard, and Talon got just an inch from the man's throat before the battle-axe found its way into his gut.

Troy yanked the blade back, and Talon took a single staggered step toward the man, the dagger slipping through his grip and rattling against the ground. "Oh," he said breathlessly, looking up at the man. "Well done."

His ankle finally gave out, and he fell to his knees, barely stopping himself from falling further as one hand planted itself on the ground, the other taking hold of his stomach. He looked down at the wound, and winced, letting out a short, pained laugh. "No, yeah. You got me."

Troy knelt down to meet him eye to eye. He looked almost sad, and Talon thought he could laugh again, but the first one had hurt his gut so much he decided to suppress it.

"Do you wish me to finish it, or leave you be?" He asked earnestly.

This time Talon did laugh, pain be damned as his chuckles turned into coughs that nearly sent him all the way to the ground. "No, it's fine," he said, waving him off. "I'll have plenty of time to be dead real soon. I'll take the pain a little longer."

Troy just nodded his head. "Are you afraid?" He asked.

Talon smiled at that, and tapped his head. "Can't be."

"That's good to hear, friend," Troy said sadly, clamping a hand on his shoulder. "You are a worthy foe, a true warrior. I will see you one day in the halls of Valhalla. Soon we will meet again, not as enemies, but as friends, and we will drink and laugh together."

"That doesn't sound half bad," Talon said, and the man seemed happy at that.

"I will be sad to see you go, this arena is running low on warriors," Troy said sadly, he turned around toward his ally, and Talon took the initiative. From beside him, Talon took hold of the dagger, and drove it into the bicep of his dominant arm.

The effort brought Talon back down to his hands and knees, and he wasn't able to see the response, only hear a brief yell of pain. Talon laughed, though it quickly turned to a coughing fit. "There," he said, looking up at Troy and smiling. "That'll make it more even."

Troy gripped tightly to his arm in pain, but he nodded his head, and even managed to chance a smile as he reached out his uninjured arm toward Talon and grabbed him by the forearm. It sapped all the energy out of him, but Talon returned the gesture.

"You're a good man, Talon Olympus," he said.

Talon just nodded his head. "Go ahead, I've said my piece. I've got a few more things I'd like to say to some people, before I go."

Troy released Talon's arm, and nodded his head. "Until we meet again, friend."

With that he walked away, and Talon watched as the District One pair both walked away, both of them sporting freshly bleeding fighting arms. He'd done all he could. It might not end up being enough. But he had tried. It wasn't in his hands any more. How oddly relieving that thought felt to him.

He forced himself to rise back up to his knees, and look into the camera that he had spotted out before. "Irelia," he said painfully. He could feel himself weakening, the pain so excruciating that he could barely bring himself to speak. But he forced himself to continue. "I know you'll make me proud. Just keep on being you. It's enough." His knees gave out, and he fell in a heap to the cement. "It's enough," he repeated in a murmur.

Things faded in and out. Brief flashes of pain brought him back awake, before soothing peace drew his eyes back closed, where he thought he would slip away into nothingness. And then he jolted awake again. And this time he didn't just see the night sky.

Lana stood above him, looking down with an expression that Talon didn't have the energy to decipher. She was still for a while, rigid and stiff. Then, she dropped quietly down to her knees, and reached out, placing a hand on his heart with one hand, while her other held firmly to her own.

Talon allowed himself to smile one final time as his chest slowly rose and fell, his heartbeat slowing as his eyes drifted closed.

A/N: I just got done writing this whole chapter in one sitting and personally cannot deal, so I'ma skip anything aside from saying that next chapter will be a Mentor Room check-in before the final day of the Games and go to the eulogies.

8th: Jamie Curie. Jamie was such a fascinating idea, from the very concept of him, to the idea of not having any intro chapter. It probably would've worked a lot better if I actually did the long pre-games I had planned, so I'm sorry I couldn't make that happen and really let it reach its full potential. Jamie was such an interesting character though, he was a twist on the "manipulative/evil little kid" trope in that. . . he wasn't really evil? Like he did good things, made people feel good, etc, and all he wanted was to be remembered as a good person. While he had a dark road in the Games, I'm glad that at least the very end could be peaceful for him. CC, you already know how much I adore every character you create, and thank you for sending me another lovely one in Jamie. RIP

7th: Talon Olympus. Be still my beating heart. Talon is one of my favorite characters ever. He's the perfect Career, and is designed in the way that he's just built to be the perfect victor. The combination of being analytical and manipulative while also being fearless and moral made him such a fun character to delve into, and he might be the easiest, most natural character to write I've ever had. He was someone I contemplated with as victor, but in the end it just didn't feel right. His relationship with Lana was just everything to me though, and is a big chunk of why these Games have been able to flow so quickly. Their relationship will always be one of my very favorites, and while this death gutted the hell out of me, I'm glad that he died at peace.

Trivia(1 point): I've asked this a lot, but now that there's only 6, and a lot has changed since I last asked, I'll ask once again for your predictions/hopes for victor. It's down to just Troy, Vivian, Lana, River, Marquise, and Sparrow now, so let me know your thoughts!

I'll be posting the mentor-room chapter later today in order to make up for the lack of an update on Christmas day, so we should be back on track to finish this story before the year ends! See you all then!