A/N: Where are the reviews yet? Seriously, as of the time I'm writing this, only Indium has reviewed. Also, this story got into a Community- Popular Stories on Fanfiction, aka a Community for stories with an overload of reviews/follows/favorites. I'm slightly confused as to why it's there, as only about two, three-ish people review regularly, but I appreciate it all the same. Also, I've created a forum for the games! Here's the link to my forums- I couldn't get the link to the forum itself, but I only have one forum, so it shouldn't exactly be hard to find. Also, I've changed my name! It's SparkALeah now. myforums/SparkALeah/6792668/
Warning: Mood whiplash and creepy imagery
Cajsa Varis, District 8 Female
I stare at the dagger, limpid hands trembling. The sharp blade could be linked to my fate. If I fail at using it, my own life could slip through my finger.
The dummy leers at me, painted smile burning through every layer of my soul, unwrapping me, examining me, searing into my crisped skin. My fingers shake harder and I take a few clumsy steps towards the grotesquely smiling dummy. I stab cautiously at it with my dull dagger.
It barely makes a dent in the dummy's taut leather skin.
"Heh..." A poisonous whisper in my ear. A voice- a terrifying voice. All I want to do is whip around and bury my dagger into supple flesh and watch as skin tears and blood sprays like a broken faucet. But I don't do it. Because I know that I'd only get a single strike in before the person behind me whips me around and buries a fat blade into the flesh of my stomach, ripping my skin and cleaving my bones and marrow in two. "It'll be easy to kill you, little girl. You can't handle that knife to save your life, and the games will prove it." This time, I can't help but emit a terrified squeak and he laughs sourly, his breath venom on my bare cheek.
I twist around.
It isn't a Career. Far from it, actually. It's the boy from nine, the one with the wide smile and the unhinged gaze. I tremble, shaking like a leaf. I can't remember being more scared.
Wait- I can. When my mother died, when I was reaped, when Ronja was up on the factory roof…
But this is hands-on fear, when something terrible is happening to you RIGHT NOW, whether a fire or a flood or a psychopath's silky, bloody words echoing in your eardrums. I've never suffered from hands-on fear as potent as this, when your knees clack together and your teeth chatter and your soul buzzes with adrenaline telling you to run run go GO run RABBIT RUN.
"Why are you quivering?" He laughs. "I'm not dangerous, promise!" I stare at him in response, transfixed by horror. "I guess I'm going for you in the bloodbath the-"
He blinks then, and shudders, his whole body quivering like pure electricity is running through his veins. And then he stops. He stares at me, and his eyes are cold and blank. If anything, this scares me far, far more then him from before. Before, he was obviously obsessed with sewing pain. Now? He's escaped all emotion, leaving him cold-eyed and empty. He stares at me for another panic-fueled second, before turning around and walking away.
Shit. Shit shit shit. I'm going to cry in front of everyone. My vision blurs and I can feel the sloppy tears gathering in the corners of my eyes. I need to run. To go. Far, far away from here.
I spin around, my vision muddled and burst out the door. I run down the velvet corridor, my feet thumping dully on the ground, full-fledged sobs shaking me. I'm a coward. I'm such a coward. Ronja's sure to see the tapes, and then what? Will she just assume I've given up?
I blunder into the wall, my hips and shoulders slamming into flat marble. I welcome the stinging pain and slide down, curling myself into a ball and letting the tears take me. Everyone always says crying makes you feel better, but every tear reminds me of his hot breath and alternating sadistic and cold glances.
"Are you okay?"
I pull my head up from between my knees and rub furiously at my eyes. The girl from ten towers over me, expression transfixed by horror, pity, and worry. "Not really." I hiccup. Without warning, she plops down beside me, eyes gentle. "That guy's just a bully. He doesn't know anything at all. I, personally, was impressed by your knifework." I laugh dryly. "I barely made a dent in that dummy!" "Better then I would have done." She jokes, and grabs my elbow. She dries my tears gently and I feel a strange, jelly-like sensation in my legs. "Let's go back to the training room, shall we?" She says. I nod, and we head back to the training room, laughing all the way.
Futura Light, District 3 Female
I used to think I was a smart person, but now I'm not so sure.
Take a look at the damning evidence.
First, I volunteer for the Hunger Games, an obviously idiotic move. The mark of a genius is not, shockingly, flinging yourself into a teenage death match. Nice job, me! Enjoy being dead.
It was an intelligent decision on my part to go into damage control by making allies, I'll admit.
But it is not a smart decision to even consider allying with the friendliest girls in the room!
Honestly, sometimes I don't know why I bother trying to act rationally. The stupid lump of organ in my chest is in control at all times. Me being here is living- soon to be dead- proof of that.
UGH.
Crystaille Alexander and Casja Varis are unacceptable choices for allies. They're spineless. Cajsa ran out of the room in tears after a five-second conversation with the boy from nine. They don't know how to do anything but smile. They've formed a friendship disregarding the infinitely important fact that they are supposed to kill each other.
And yet I still want to ally with them!
Stupid heart. Stupid brain. Stupid Futura.
"EVERYTHING'S STUPID!"
Nobody hears me. Everyone's engrossed in their own little worlds in their stations. One of the Career's shoots me a scathing look, but he's the only one. Everyone else remains hopelessly oblivious. Including Crystaille and Cajsa, who're flirting by the snares station.
Before I know it, my stupid, traitorous feet are striding across the room, towards Crystaille and Cajsa, away from my home the electronic station. I plant myself in front of them, cursing my mouth and feet and heart and wanting while simultaneously talking.
"Uh… hi?"
Stupid Futura! If you're actually talking to them, try not to sound like an ingrate!
"Err, sorry. Uh, I'm Futura. Do you… uh, that's to say, um, would you, well, consider, uh, maybe, well, sorta, kinda… alling with me?
You totally ruined it. They're going to chuck a snare at your head and then you won't have any allies.
Cajsa and Crystaille shoot each other bewildered glances, and then Crystaille shrugs. "Sure!" She says brightly.
"Um, what?"
Well slap the horse and… shoot the horse? Something the horse and slap me silly. Wow, Futura, you're bad at sayings.
I know, shut up!
Crystaille Alexander, District 10 Female
Futura's proven herself to be a valuable asset so far. She's pretty good with snares and a wizard with electronics, nearly killing the lights at one point. Now that I think about it, though, I doubt she intended to cut the lights, so maybe she's not as good at it as I think…
There's a thought troubling me even as we mull over snares and I think about Futura's actions so far. I'm not dull enough the think I can win these Games without a weapon, but I don't know if I could touch a blade without, I dunno, fainting or something. Cajsa is at least practicing with her dagger, and Futura his been trying with easy-make tasers and knives both. Futura is far more adapt at her weapon then Cajsa, but at least the both of them are trying. That's more then I'm doing.
I breathe in, deeply. How am I going to protect my allies if I don't have a weapon? I'll just need to suck it up and find something to fight with.
I wander away from Cajsa and Futura to the weapons station. The girl from four has forced her allies to the edible plants station, so I'm all alone at the table, with the exception of the trainer.
I fiddle around with the weapons for a few minutes, flipping blades and feeling knives. Everything just feels so wrong. The blades are cold, the spikes on the maces cruel, the clubs unfamiliar.
And then I spot it.
The lasso.
I'm from Ten, the animal District, so I have a lot of practice lassoing creatures. The lasso is like an extension of my arm. But lassoing people and lassoing animals are bound to be somewhat different. Nevertheless, it's the only thing I have to work with. I grab the rope and immediately feel a flush of pleasure run through my veins. After the unfamiliarity of the other weapons, my familiar lasso feels like heaven on my hands. I turn and face a disgusting, grinning dummy.
I extend the long, thin rope and watch it whistle through the air. It falls perfectly around the dummy's neck and I jerk it forwards, far rougher then I would with any animal. I haul the dummy towards me, fasten my fingers around it's neck, and squeeze, imagining tendons beneath me fingers, a desperate pulse and throbbing blood, gurgles…
Shocked at the images in my mind, I stumble backwards. My fingers disconnect and the flood of feeling ebbs, leaving me on the ground, rough rope rubbing against my palms.
A/N: If you haven't guessed, I think of Futura as very Peridot-y, and write her as such.