Chapter Twelve.
Tribute House, Part Three.
Ozias Evermoor, 18 years old;
Sector Five Male.
You are a failure.
Chosen one, don't make me laugh. Atop a mountain, grey clouds painting a picture of prominence; it is a sham. You are nothing but an up-jumped sycophant, preaching to a choir of dullards. No one is really listening. Your voice is nothing but a silent breeze.
You are nothing.
Ozias bolted upright from his bed, his face dripping with a shivering sweat. He wiped it clean with the back of his hand, his breath coming out in heavy puffs, in and out, in and out. The clock to his side told him that it was early morning – early enough that it was still dark, not even the orangey tones of a beautiful sunrise.
I am not nothing. Ozias took a moment to recollect his thoughts. His dreams were inconsequential background noise, a by-product of the stresses of being here, of carrying so much on his shoulders. It was natural to feel so burdened and for that burden to manifest into something that was trying to make him believe otherwise. I am not nothing.
He smiled to himself and shook his hair free from his shoulders. So far, things had gone pleasant enough, the wheel rotating rather placidly yet concretely towards his set goal. There was plenty of noise here and there, distractions dancing on the peripheral, but distractions were easy to ignore for someone like Ozias who had trained his mind and body to fix themselves on the path in front of him.
It was what he told his friends and followers atop the mountain. Picture a pathway free from rocks and obstacles, and always keep one foot in front of the other, never stepping backwards. Eventually, the destination would be reached.
His chest had calmed down now, his heart no longer lodged well in his throat. Deciding to grab himself a glass of water, he threw the duvet sheet from his body and slipped silently out of bed, his eyes quickly scanning around the room he had been given. All were asleep – Valdis Solgren snoring deeply, earning a smile from Ozias, except for one lone bed.
Tavius Otho.
He hadn't really noticed the huge, hulking brute of a tribute around so far. Which was ironic, considering his size. Ozias had his priorities elsewhere. So far, Vinicius was clearly on his side, though sadly he'd lost Palatine to the bubbling mess of a group of girls who prayed to hair straighteners and the goddess of vodka. If he could get just one more reaped tribute on his side, the pieces would start to come together for him.
He'd promised his followers, those cast out by academies, left to the gutters and garbage of Two, that he would win for those that were left to nothing. If he could come back from Two having helped the unfortunate, with a victor by his side that had defied all odds, a name pulled from the bowl without a volunteer to take their place, then it would reinvigorate his cause even further.
He was doing it for the right reasons. A reaped tribute deserved to win alongside him.
Outside his room, hovering by the cupboards, Tavius smiled as Ozias' feet gently pattered towards the sink. Instinctively, Ozias became aware, his senses heightening, always focusing on what was around him and what might happen.
He grabbed himself a glass and nodded warmly in the direction of Tavius. Though Ozias was tall, he was a toothpick in comparison. "Morning."
"Looks more like night-time," Tavius said. "Although I think the sun is coming up. It's nice."
For someone that looked like a dense brick, Tavius seemed to wear something of a smile that made Ozias relax ever so slightly. He was never scared of anyone – Ozias refused to ever allow those sorts of emotions to plague him – but he was no fool either. Watching Tavius' eyes reflect the slithers of sunlight that were now beginning to rip through the darkness, it relaxed Ozias enough to take a sip of his water and lean against the sink, crossing the bottom of his left leg over the other.
"Adjusting to this?" Ozias asked.
"Hm?" Tavius said, not quite looking at Ozias.
"This house, with everyone else, crammed in like sardines."
Tavius laughed. "Oh yeah. That. I think I like it. I get to scope out who is who. Potential… well, y'know."
Ozias yawned, placing the glass onto the counter with a delicate tap, and stretched his arms out, nodding in agreement. "I know what you mean. Anyway. Good luck to you."
When Ozias stepped forwards, he saw it, imperceptible to someone who hadn't trained his mind to see it, but it was there clear as the morning sun now creeping behind clouds. A flicker in Tavius' smile, a glimpse of falsity, a nastiness in his eyes.
Tavius stepped forwards, closer to Ozias than he cared to feel, and in his chest, he began to notice his heart hammer like it had done when he'd woken up. It made him feel suddenly trapped and Ozias did not respond well to those sorts of sensations. The lack of control was deafening.
"I don't need luck," Tavius whispered, ever so quietly into Ozias' ear, voice laced with malice that did not match the boy that had been gazing at the sky moments ago. "I'd watch your back. I could snap you like a twig."
Cliché, but true. Ozias gulped and stepped backwards, brushing a strand of hair from his face, feeling his body start to vibrate with sudden rage. He did not like being put down – no one did. But those words came back. You are a failure. You are nothing. Laughable. Indistinguishable. Living a lie.
Ozias' fingers clenched into a fist but Tavius was far too quick. His hand smashed into Ozias' cheek and with a laugh, he watched gleefully as Ozias fell to the side, a splatter of blood dancing across the glass half-full of water he'd just had a sip from.
Footsteps.
Tavius took another step forwards, but Ozias controlled himself in that moment, quickly and forcefully, smothering the embers of fury. He knew how he had to come across. He knew his purpose. He knew the pathway in front of him.
And luck was on his side. Because the boy that barrelled into Tavius, throwing him sideways, was Vinicius Grecco. A boy that had, perhaps even unwillingly, latched himself to every single word Ozias had said to him since the day they'd arrived in the Capitol. It was amazing what one could get done in such a short space of time.
"Don't touch him," Vinicius said, teeth gritted together, hands almost pitifully forming fists that were nothing in comparison to Tavius'. "I – I – I don't think you should be doing that here."
He's devoted and he doesn't even know it.
Ozias heard more footsteps this time and as the sun finally rose, tributes flooded out from their rooms, yawning, stretching, chatting, mindlessly blustering their way to the kitchen and the couches. Tavius grimaced and then smiled the same smile of the boy that had looked out the window, disappearing back into his room.
"Are you okay?" Vinicius asked, turning to Ozias.
It didn't really hurt, but he clasped his cheek, nodding with a pained grin. "Yeah. Yeah I'll be fine."
"Are you sure, I can—"
"Jeez, what happened to you?"
Both Ozias and Vinicius looked up. In front of them was Juliet Romero, towel over his bare shoulder, eyes slightly wide though he appeared almost amused at the sight before him.
"Nothing," Ozias said, shaking his head. Vinicius is reaped, Juliet is a volunteer. They are different species entirely. "I suppose it's only natural. All of us bunched up together, almost caged, sometimes people have to express themselves in different ways."
"And by expression, you mean a fist to the face?" Juliet said, arching an eyebrow. "Cool, cool. Whatever works for some people."
Ozias couldn't completely work out Juliet, but then again he hadn't really spent any time focusing on him at all. He'd spoken to Vinicius, though, yesterday evening. He wanted another reaped tribute, but he also wanted someone on his side that represented a bit more of what Two typically embodied. If only for the short-time aid in a fight, but also the long-term benefit of seeing someone like Vinicius step over those who had wanted to be here right from the off.
Ozias already knew, right now, he needed himself and Vinicius to win.
But he wasn't stupid. When he looked at Vinicius and raised his own eyebrow in a silent question, the nod he received, though sullen and almost hesitant, cemented the idea clear into his head.
We need fighters. Ozias was trained, but even he knew his limitations, and though his cause was just, sometimes a sharp mind needed a little bit of extra help along the way.
"You should join us for breakfast," Ozias suggested, smiling at Juliet. "Vinicius and I have already made the decision to support each other in the Games. I don't see why we can't at least discuss the potential idea of adding someone else to that."
Juliet looked between Ozias and Vinicius, as if he couldn't decide who they really were, if there was anything hidden, or what the motive was. Ozias could understand that. Though Vinicius was loyal to Ozias, he knew he couldn't have that from everyone. Not right away. With a little bit of work, perhaps their muscle could soon enough find his way to see Ozias in the same light.
"I'd have to ask Briel, but I'm sure she won't say no to some breakfast."
Ah. "Sure," Ozias said, refusing to allow the opportunity to walk away. "Let's meet here in, say, twenty minutes?"
Juliet nodded and headed off towards the shower room. Vinicius glanced at Ozias worriedly. "Are you sure we should accept two more? What about finding someone else who was reaped?"
"Right now, I need some ice for my face. Let's talk about this later."
Vinicius nodded, dropping the idea immediately.
Good.
The puzzle was forming together nicely.
I am not a failure.
I am not nothing.
This – this is what I came here to do.
My path is set.
Svanna Hyland, 18 years old;
Sector One Female.
"Why don't you try a smaller spear? Or something short-range and close-combat?"
Svanna huffed impatiently. "No. I want to continue with this spear. Are you someone employed by the Capitol to actually assist us with our training, or is that fancy name badge just for show?"
"You don't have to be rude."
This time, rather than huff, she chuckled amusedly. "I'm not being rude, I'm just asking you to do your job."
The trainer quietened at that and helped Svanna correct her grip around the spear. Svanna wasn't a hopeless trainee – in fact she was quite the opposite. But during her years of preparing for a life that had never been set before her, she'd fallen into a niche of weaponry that she was determined to work her way out of. There was nothing wrong with having a speciality, but if she was actually going to make use of the time she had in the Capitol, she wanted to learn something and embrace the opportunity to sharpen her skills.
Yes, occasionally she was happy to be in the centre of all the noise and drama within the house, but other times she preferred her own company. After all – despite her enjoyment of what was going on amongst the throngs of her fellow competitors, she was here to win, not to drink, swim in the pool and pretend otherwise.
Her mind was set on that crown.
"—lean back, imagine the spear is an extension of your arm, and think before you throw. In the heat of battle, your thinking time will be limited, but that doesn't mean you shouldn't always envisage where you want the spear to end up. Throwing blindly will likely result in you missing."
Svanna nodded her head and this time wasn't rude about it. "Thank you. I appreciate your help."
The trainer seemed pleased with this and nodded her head, letting go of Svanna and watching her spread her feet apart, twist her hips slightly, and extend the spear out in front of her. "Yes, well, as you said, I am here to help. I suppose coming from District Two, I didn't expect many of you to actually want our help. You're the first person to ask me for anything other than another weapon."
Svanna didn't quite want her life story, there was enough misery in Panem without some privileged Capitolite moaning about her usefulness within this gymnasium. Still, she wasn't exactly doing anything wrong, and Svanna was starting to feel quite pleased with herself in comparison to what she'd witnessed elsewhere with the other tributes.
If she was the first person to actually ask for help training, then maybe that was actually going to help her in the long run. If she was the only one taking this seriously enough, maybe turning away from her family had been the right decision this whole time. No longer did she have to suffocate under the mantle of the Hyland name.
She'd made that pretty clear to Reyan the first time she'd met him. She thought maybe he'd understand the difficulties of carrying a legacy on one's shoulders at their young age. His reaction was the complete opposite to what she'd expected.
She'd then made the decision that she didn't like him at all. There was something odd about him. Something to watch out for.
"Okay, and…"
Svanna threw the spear carefully and precisely. It wasn't her first time with spears, but her technique was clumsy, which was the point of her being here. This time, however, rather than scrape the arm of the dummy, it skewered the poor fella right in the abdomen, straw erupting from its flimsy torso.
"Perfect," the trainer said with a satisfactory nod. "I'll leave you to it. It appears you have company."
What-?
"Svanna Hyland."
She'd heard that voice around the house before. Whenever she was getting herself a coffee, there was the laughter of a group of girls that seemed to split the air in two. Whenever she was in this hall, training in the far corners, the group of girls seemed to haunt the shadows with their ear-piercing conversation.
"Hello," Svanna said, turning her heels on the spot, meeting eye to eye with Callisto Rius. "What a pleasure."
Callisto's lips quirked upwards into a half grin, smugness oozing from her horrific expression. "Is that the first one you've actually managed to land?"
"First one, maybe," Svanna said, not the type to lie for the amusement of some transparent bitch. "First of many, I'm sure."
"We'll see."
"Are you here to speak in mean-girl clichés, or did you actually want something?"
Svanna had spent a long time growing up fluttering her eyelashes, patting down crinkles in pretty little dresses, and doing everything it took to be the perfect princess for her mother. It had been her brothers' job, the role of men, to have a go at training for the Games. And at first, Svanna had known nothing but bitches like Callisto and how to act prim and proper around them. Snakes in the grass.
Only, watching her brothers from a distance and seeing the underhandedness of what her parents had done to secure such a legacy, meant that Svanna had wanted nothing more to break free from the metaphorical handcuffs around her wrists.
It was bizarre really. Here she was, full circle, face to face with a girl pretending she was anything more than melting ice.
"I'm sure you think you have it all set, coming from where you are, beloved daughter of the Hyland empire. But that doesn't matter, anymore. You're one of a few. Nalara, Eldridge. It's meaningless."
Svanna scoffed, loud, not subtle in the slightest, painting the sheer stupidity of the situation on her face so Callisto could see it bright as day. "You're the one licking the ass of a Tyriage. Don't preach to me, Callisto, about the people here. You're see-through. Obvious. And if I'm completely honest, incredibly dull."
"Why you—"
"Now if you don't mind, I'm going to train a bit more, and use my time here wisely instead of marching up to random people thinking you can intimidate them, when really you're failing epically each time. Say hello to Gormlaith for me. Don't presume to think that went unseen yesterday."
Before Callisto could take a step towards Svanna, she saw over her shoulder three figures arrive, though they'd been obvious right from the get-go what they were up to, skulking in the shadows. Either Svanna was more perceptive of people than she thought, or they were just a lot more painstakingly obvious in their intentions than they'd like to admit.
She wasn't sure which way the scales tipped.
"Callisto, Callisto, Callisto. That's not the way to speak to someone like Svanna Hyland."
The degrading voice belonged to Bex Redgrave. She strutted around like a Queen Bee who actually had the sting to match her stripes. Unlike Callisto. Behind her, Syrella offered a small yet confident wave. And next to her, a weird addition that Svanna wasn't expecting.
"Pet nerd?" Svanna asked, pointing her spear towards Palatine.
"Call it broadening our horizons. Something our friend Callisto doesn't seem to understand just yet."
Rather than argue with Bex, Callisto took a step back towards their group, leaving space for Bex to flourish and spread her wings. She was rather entertaining so Svanna allowed her some of her attention. The rest of her attention was focused on the way Palatine was stood very close to Syrella, nervously biting his lip, whilst Syrella couldn't break her gaze from Svanna's own eyes.
Interesting.
"I think we've got off on the wrong foot. I'm sure Callisto didn't mean to offend."
"But you told me to come over here and—"
"—talk to Svanna, not scare her away."
Ah. So they sent her over here because they find her just as amusing as I do. Svanna snorted and laughed because even in the face of someone that was surprisingly quite intimidating like Bex, Svanna had sworn to herself that she would never bend over for anyone. She was here as the Svanna she'd always wanted to be. Not the Svanna that others expected of her.
Stuff that up your skirt, Mother.
"I think what Bex is trying to say in a rather round-a-bout way, Svanna, is that we want to offer you the final place in our alliance. I think it's very admirable of you to actually use your time wisely and that caught our eye. If anything, we could learn from your diligence."
Syrella's voice was composed and seemed actually genuine which was why when Svanna met her eyes, she did so without any hostility, a smile dancing across her face.
Svanna could see multiple reasons as to why she should say yes, and little reasons to say no. There could only be two victors, sure, but that dilemma would probably naturally sort itself out anyway as numbers dwindled. Syrella was capable, and though she'd joked about Palatine, he had a quiet sort of strength hovering around him. Bex was definitely a force to be reckoned with and Callisto made Svanna laugh, which was always a positive.
"To be honest," Bex started, nudging Syrella with her elbow, "the Tyriage and Hyland money-pot combined might be quite the thing for our little team."
Callisto bit her lip and met Svanna's amused expression with a thunderous narrowing of her eyes. The irony of thinking that she had been sent over to intimidate Svanna, prattle on about how stupid it was to cling to a family fund, and for that to be the hook, line and sinker of a done deal.
As Svanna said yes, she mentioned nothing about the fact her parents had disowned her the moment she'd stood on that stage. How as all the tributes said their goodbyes to family, she was left all alone, grinning at the door, happy to finally be in a room she'd chosen to enter.
"Fantastic," Bex said, wrapping an arm around Svanna's shoulders. "Now, show us how to throw a spear."
"Why not use the trainers. The one who showed me is rather good," Svanna said, smiling over at the woman from only moments ago, a woman that seemed ever so pleased to now have an audience. "Thank you for your help."
The trainer nodded, held the spear in front, and Svanna slipped to the background, nestling herself up close to where Callisto continued to silently bristle, leaning into her icy hair.
"They think you're a fool, love. Nothing more, nothing less."
Callisto said nothing.
Svanna did love a fireworks show. Eventually, the colours would be beautiful.
Tavius Otho, 18 years old;
Sector Eleven Male.
Nestled casually amongst the grass, three members of the group had their backs to Tavius, but the one he had his eye on was facing him, occasionally glancing up to meet Tavius' stare.
Ozias was sat with his allies – the one who had pushed him earlier, and two new ones, both bulkier than the former, volunteers and clearly trained. Underneath the resentment that Tavius felt at how things had gone earlier, he could sense a silent envy, and anger at that jealousy like a pit of snakes in his stomach.
He bit into his sandwich and ripped the bread and meat in one go, swallowing it down and forcing himself to his feet, ignoring the smug little grin that Ozias gave him, the subtle nod of his head as Tavius turned away and headed back inside the house.
His fingers clenched into unwitting fists, opening and closing against his side. He flashed a confident smile at a girl that walked past him, Kasiani or Viorica or one of the girls in the middle that had all blended into one, and sat down in the armchair, opposite another group of tributes.
It wasn't like him to be feeling this unsettled about things. In fact, it was the complete opposite of the trajectory he was hoping to be on, coming into this house, where social wiles and the skills of working a crowd had always been his forte. He'd expected to be thriving, and yet he was alone, as more and more tributes were coming together, finding common ground that he seemed to be failing at.
Ozias had a group of tributes that were clearly enamoured by him. His own sector partner, River, had found a rather meek looking girl, yet stunningly pretty by the name of Damali. The trio of girls had only grown by two members. Here and there, dotted around the house, pockets of tributes were starting to match up and formalise their strategies for the way ahead.
And Tavius was alone. He hated being alone, left to his own thoughts, forced into the background. On too many occasions already, Tavius had imagined vicious deaths for several of the people that had irritated him since arriving. Whether or not they came true, he wasn't too bothered, but the thought gave him momentary pleasure. He wasn't exactly in this for the ruthless killing, but he wasn't opposed to the idea either.
Anything to get to the finish line.
"—and I think that's why when the gong sounds, we all rush in quickly, gather what we can, and flee immediately. No point risking our necks."
Tavius' ears perked up at the sound of a strategy being discussed so openly. It was one of the members of the alliance sat around the couches in front of him, yet another group that had come together over whatever shared reason they'd managed to convince themselves an alliance was the best way forwards.
His insecure thoughts were grossing Tavius out. If Cole was around, he'd be laughing at him and pinching his cheek in a silly, though adorable fashion. Tavius grimaced and then smiled as a pair of eyes landed on him. It was a manoeuvre of emotions he'd mastered years ago. The only way to survive in a cutthroat district like Two.
"Can we help you?"
Tavius shuffled forwards in his chair and met the inquisitive eyes of Reyan Nalara. "No, no. Sorry. I didn't mean to eavesdrop."
"It's fine, but I think we'd rather you didn't listen in, if that's alright with you?"
Don't, Tavius. He didn't like being spoken to in that way, it was why he'd thought having a little bit of premature fun with Ozias, someone he'd never thought of teaming up with in a million years, might have been a good idea. And it had only bitten him in the ass. He was doing his best to learn harsher restraints. So instead, he nodded his head at Reyan, but didn't make any moves to stand up either.
"I am sorry. May I ask, are you all volunteers?" He knew the answer, though asking questions was usually the way into a group of people. They liked to talk about themselves. A Nalara definitely liked to talk about himself.
"I am," Aurelian said with a nod.
"We all are," Manfred followed with.
"Look – Tavius, is it?" Reyan asked, to which Tavius then nodded. "I don't wish to be an ass about things, and if you really want to sit here, that's fine we can move. But Sterling advised us on this alliance, and he also advised us to be careful of the others. That includes you."
"You don't think I could possibly—"
"No," Reyan said, this time firmer, with a hint of something in his eyes that Tavius knew all too well. He'd seen it in his own reflection a million times. Ah, a kindred spirit. The others have no idea the plague hovering like a shroud over their shoulders. "No. Sorry."
It took all of Tavius' innate strength to not punch him in his smarmy face. Instead, he nodded his head in concession, and wiggling his fingers to stop himself from clenching them into fists, he stood up and moved back towards the glass doors.
Behind him, their conversation immediately resumed, though quieter than before, and the blossom of jealousy once more infected him on the inside. If he didn't do something quick, then his entire plan of finding a group of people he could use for his own benefits would fall apart.
Shattered fragments of a strategy on the pavement. He couldn't let it happen.
He paused to glance at himself in the mirror. Everyone knew that just by looking at his size that he was clearly a threat in these Games. Maybe that was why some stayed away. Being forced into a social setting made it easier to ignore the reality they were in. If it had been an ordinary Games, his place as top of the ladder would have been all but agreed upon by every tribute.
Here, he was but a small fish, swimming in a larger, more dangerous pool of water.
"—do you really think that?"
"Yeah. That one with his baton out hasn't actually moved I swear since we got here."
Two voices caught his attention as they slid the doors open and disappeared in the garden. He watched as River and Damali sat upon the patch of verdant green grass he'd just been resting on moments ago. His mind jumped to the unsatisfactory conclusion before his own hands moved for the door handle.
River and Damali had both trained, that was a given. Damali looked about as strong-willed as a wet blanket and River, though in a weird way intimidating physically, had a gentler disposition but also seemed to confuse easily. As if she wasn't totally well put together up there. It wasn't a perfect choice, but it was one of his last remaining options, and he refused to be left in the dust.
Alone, maybe he would be a threat. But alone would also make him easy pickings. The idea of dying hadn't even crossed his mind when he'd volunteered. So many people had flooded him with praise for his actions that it had only solidified his own strong sense of self as he'd left Two and headed for his new life.
Before he knew it, Tavius was standing in front of the duo, awkwardly staring down at them with a half-baked smile. He quickly cleared his throat and rid his mind of any uncertainty. This was his way in.
"Afternoon, girls."
"Hey, Tavius. You okay?" River asked.
Damali almost seemed to suddenly accept that she was third-wheel to the two of them conversing but didn't appear bothered by it either. Tavius sat down, bringing his knees to his chest, wrapping his arms around his legs and nodding his head with a smile.
"It's beautiful out here."
"I know right. Fancy spoiling us a few days before we head into the Games. Sometimes, I forget we're actually headed there."
Stupid girl. "I know what you mean. Even though we volunteered for this, I don't think we expected it to be this way."
River didn't say anything in response to that. With a nod, it was clear to Tavius that she was waiting for him to get to the point, and he knew that if he didn't, he might never.
"If I'm honest with you, I've been waiting until today to muster up the courage to ask you something."
Muster up the courage. Pfft. He wanted to vomit in his own mouth. It sounded pathetic, but endearing to the type of girl he'd come to realise River, and definitely Damali, was.
"Go on," River said kindly.
"I don't know where you stand on accepting anyone else into your alliance. And I could go about it by bigging myself up and saying why you should accept me because I'm strong, and I've spent ages training, but so have you two I'm sure and appearance isn't everything when so many people look the same," Tavius said, going on in a way that he hoped came across the right way, rather than simply desperate. "I'm not meaning to stand in-between you two because it's clear you've bonded, but I suppose I'm asking if you might accept just one more? I promise not to be a burden."
Eventually, one of the two girls would have to die. He'd made his decision right now that it would have to be Damali. Not because he had any sense of loyalty to River, but it would be easier to work the whole sector loyalty angle during the Arena. Plus, he was sure the Capitol would love it.
Damali looked at River and nudged her with her knee, silently exchanging a simple answer with just a look. River nodded her head and then turned back to face Tavius. He knew it was a yes before her lips even parted.
"Yes," River said. "We'd love to have you."
"Fantastic," Tavius said enthusiastically.
Once again, his eyes met Ozias', and then his mind flitted away to Reyan sat inside, discussing with his group what their plan was for the Games.
There was something about the two of them he did not like at all. Not in the slightest. But sooner or later, they would both have to fall, and he would rise above it. A cunning mind to infect devotion into an alliance. Lies, fluttering eyelashes and silky-sweet smiles. He knew all the tricks in the book but eventually none of that would matter.
The Games were a test of strength and he stood head and shoulders above the rest.
Soon, none of this pretence would matter anymore.
As they fell into conversation, Tavius making sure he was not the third-wheel to their already established friendship, he knew what was to come and how he would play it.
Damali and River were close, but that would not change anything. The Games drove wedges between even the friendliest of tributes. Bonds shattered. Kindness meant a knife to the back.
And I'm so excited to see it.
At this point, I don't really mind updating whenever I can. Anything to get as much of this story posted before work starts in 4 weeks.
Confirmed alliances:
Ozias + Juliet + Briel + Vinicius
Svanna + Syrella + Bex + Palatine + Callisto
Damali + Tavius + River
This marks the halfway point of the Capitol! Well, the halfway point of the tribute POVs. I'll do what I used to do for launch and make it like an overall omniscient chapter. I'm debating what style to write for the Games – will see how that goes when I get there. I'm leaning towards it obviously being third person, but making it more like the POVs I have right now where it focuses on one tribute each time. Idk.
To all my readers, thank you ever so much. And to those few reviewing, an extra special thanks. Love you all!