District Eight

Training (II)

Cairo Hemmings (16)

i'm the new blue blood
i'm the great white hope

mr. november — the national

Cairo squinted around, pushed his glasses up and let out a quiet sigh before approaching the two tributes that he had been eyeing for the past few days, deciding that he had sulked around for too long. His father would have told him to pucker up by now, and his mother would sweetly encourage him to make some friends, because they may come in handy in the near future. Cairo was a difficult person, and he found it extremely hard to feel understood by those around him, but his parents had supported him through and through, and he didn't want to let them down by acting like the odd tribute out. He had to find a way he could fit in, and the only plan that he could come up with after four or five days of extensive analysis was approaching the two kids who had caught his attention during their Reapings. The girl seemed awkward and a little odd, but ultimately reliable; the boy, on the other hand, looked like the average tribute from a farming district that had spent half of their lives slaughtering cows and sheep and could therefore come in handy during an ambush.

Yes, Cairo told himself as he approached them, they had to be his allies. And they would want to be his allies if they knew what was best for them. Cairo might not have been a physically strong young man — he was a bit bulky and by no means scrawny, but he was practically nothing compared to the boys from Ten or Eleven in that sense — but he was strong-willed and determined, two traits that he had always been extremely proud of. People always valued a mentally strong leader or companion, he told himself quietly.

"Hey," he said, raising his hand in an awkwardly amiable gesture; he wasn't exactly used to being polite towards his peers, since he had spent a large part of his childhood considering most children around him inferior and even somewhat brutish in comparison to his refined tastes and hobbies. "How do you do?"

Kyle raised an eyebrow at him, but Caylyn immediately offered him an identical awkward smile and stuck her hand out for a shake.

"You're Cairo, right?" She questioned. Cairo immediately sensed that she was a genuinely reserved human being, which made him feel a lot easier around her — she would definitely understand the courage that he had had to muster in order to walk up to them, even if it had been a good four or five days after they arrived at the Capitol. Cairo wasn't exactly shy, but he generally struggled at connecting with other people due to his rather stormy nature. "I'm Caylyn — the girl from Seven. And this is Kyle, from Ten."

"Hey." Kyle merely acknowledged his presence by nodding his head before going back to his machete, eyeing Caylyn briefly. "What should we do now?"

"I, uh," coughed Cairo, before pushing his specs up yet again. "I just wanted to check in case you guys were looking for a third ally?"

"Why would we?" Kylo replied, perhaps a little too curtly, but softened at Caylyn's half-glare. "I mean — I don't really believe in big alliances, honestly."

"Three's a crowd, I guess," Cairo offered quietly, trying not to look too sore about it. They probably weren't even worth it, he told himself miserably, and being rejected was one of his biggest pet peeves, after all.

"No, of course it isn't!" Caylyn replied quickly, shaking her head. She nudged Kyle, then added in a softer tone, "I mean, feel free to join us for a bit, and we'll see how it goes."

Kyle eyed him with an unsure expression, but ultimately let out a quiet sigh before grabbing his machete again. Caylyn offered Cairo something that vaguely resembled an amiable smile and awkwardly offered him the set of knives that she had picked up from the table earlier that morning. Cairo, silently thanking the girl's open attitude towards him, offered her a small smile and grabbed one of the knives before admitting that he didn't really know how to use one, making Kyle chuckle behind them.

"Oh, that's all right," Caylyn replied, waving her hand in a dismissive gesture. "What can you do?"

Cairo clicked his tongue in a pensive gesture. He was an excellent designer, and his sewing skills were extraordinary even for someone from District Eight, but he couldn't really see how those skills could come in handy in the Arena.

"I can sew," he admitted finally, shrugging his shoulders. "I could patch up a wound or two if it came to it. I can also use wire, or perhaps even wool or some sort of garrotte, to try and strangle someone in their sleep." His eyes darted back to Kyle, who scowled quietly at him, a pleased expression appearing on his lips as he realised that he had managed to pique the boy's curiosity. "Of course, I could always sew your clothes if you ever needed me to, but I gather that's not exactly a top priority right now."

"I mean, who knows?" Caylyn offered, in a somewhat sympathetic tone, then placed a hand on Cairo's shoulder. The girl was a year older than him, but Cairo was a good five inches taller than her. "Come on, let's try and see what you can do with those dummies over there."

Cairo offered Kyle a mocking grin before nodding his head at Caylyn's offer. "Sure! Let's go check those out."

He couldn't help but chuckle when Kyle's expression changed to a deeply annoyed one, his bulky shoulders relaxing once he tossed his machete at a dummy and hit it square on the chest.

Nala Henderson (18)

so keep your time, keep your mind, keep humble
start a life in the middle of the jungle

young blood — noah kahan

Nala didn't know what to do, or even what to think. She had always been an effortlessly extroverted human being, and she loved the idea of meeting new people and getting to know them better — but she didn't exactly feel up to it when she realised that she would probably have to kill them if she wanted to make it back to District Eight alive.

She had tried to talk herself into forming an alliance with Cairo at first, but he was everything but an easy person and their personalities had clashed from the very beginning. Nala was a working girl who had dropped out of school to work in retail at the age of fourteen, whereas Cairo was the only son of the most prominent fashion designer in their District and a former supermodel — she would never let the boy know about it, but she had adored his mother's designs from a very early age, and she had looked up to her while growing up. She wanted what Cairo had — a family that understood her passion for fashion design and that would encourage her like Cairo's parents did. But she didn't, because her parents and siblings had passed away when she was only ten years old, making her an orphan and essentially a pariah to the eyes of someone like Cairo.

He hadn't outright disrespected her, of course. He was too subtle for that. But there was a perpetual expression on his face that told her he thought himself better than her, that he deserved to win the Games more than she did simply because of who his parents were. He had quickly become one of the year's Capitol darlings, with girls wooing him and sponsors already wanting to shower him with gifts, and she knew that he intended to exploit his parents' fame during the interviews, and she couldn't help but feel as though she had nothing to offer in comparison to her District partner's distinguished lineage.

"Hey, are you all right?"

She inevitably raised her eyebrows when she realised that a small boy with curly blond hair was looking up at her with a curious expression. She knew him, of course — he was the boy from Seven, and the youngest tribute in their batch. He's scrawny, gap-toothed and a little too tiny for his age — he could have easily passed for a ten-year-old, Nala told herself with a sad smile — but what he lacked in physical maturity he made up for in the sternness of his expression. Nala couldn't help but think that she had never seen such a somber gesture in a twelve-year-old's face — even all those kids who headed towards their first Reaping hid a hint of naïvety, a genuine hopefulness that had completely vanished from the boy's face.

Nala offered him a smile and shook her head a little. "Oh, no, I'm fine. Do you need anything?"

"No." The boy bit the inside of his cheek thoughtfully, then blurted out, "I'm friends with the girl from Ten and the two tributes from Three, and they thought you could come in handy for us in case you were looking for an alliance. Araceli's really awesome, and so is Violetta — they've treated me splendidly. Turing's pretty nice too, but he's a little more reserved, or at least that's what Violetta says..." The boy offered her what could be interpreted like a smile, and then stuck his hand out. "I'm Jennings, by the way. Would you like to join us?"

Nala couldn't help but laugh, but shook his hand in an amiable way nevertheless. "Oh, Jennings, it's a pleasure to meet you. You weren't at the party earlier this week, were you?" Jennings shook his head stiffly. No, of course he hadn't been; he was twelve and there had been plenty of alcohol and strange adults who kept asking them all sorts of odd questions. Still, she offered him a smile and nodded her head in approval. "Well done. Parties are a waste of time anyway. So you're telling me you're allies with the girl from Ten and the kids from Three, right?" Jennings nodded his head again, and Nala tapped her chin pensively for a second. Three and Ten had never been her first choices — she had hoped to try and join the group that had been formed by the tributes from Four and Six, but they had barely interacted with anyone outside their small group — but she guessed she could work with that. Three was known for its brainy, witty tributes, and the girl from Ten looked as though she knew what she was doing; she quickly resolved that it would do her good to accept Jennings's offer and join them, at least until (and if) she found a better alliance.

"So?" Jennings questioned expectantly. "You in?"

Nala did one of her bold smiles, like the ones she used while addressing the wealthier customers that dropped by the shop, and nodded as she shook Jennings's hand.

"Of course I'm in."

The boy grinned, and for a briefest of seconds she saw the twelve-year-old that he truly was, which made her feel a little better. The boy took her hand in his and, in an almost comically decided manner, he pulled her arm towards a more secluded area of the Training Centre.

"Come on! Violetta and Turing and Araceli are waiting for us," he explained breathlessly.

Nala just laughed, following him closely, and resolved right there and then that she would protect that little, gap-toothed boy for as long as she could.

Ahhh I just love every single tribute in this story SO MUCH rip. Anyway — hope you enjoyed this chapter! I really can't wait for you guys to meet the rest of the ensemble and for you to see what's in store for them, ehehe. I'm not exactly pleased with how this chapter came out for some reason — it's a bit too short, I think, but I've been juggling my writing with submitting essays and preparing for my finals and I just really wanted you guys to know that I fully intend to keep up with this story no matter what. There's plenty of twists and reckless ideas in store and I really can't wait to see what you guys think of them! :]

Also — have you guys read the new Hunger Games book yet? I'm currently halfway through it so no spoilers please! But I really want to know what you guys think of it because I was a little wary of it at first but I'm really enjoying it so far tbh!

So yeah, please stay safe! Everything's gotten a little crazy as of lately and I just wanted you guys to know that I'm here in case any of you need someone to talk to. I also wanted to give a massive shoutout to any possible black/POC readers out there — you guys really do matter, and I feel beyond enraged by what has been happening in the US as of lately. Again, feel free to drop me a PM if you ever need anything, and please stay safe!

Phew! That was a long A/N.

Up next — District 9 + Gamemakers Session!