Disclaimer: I do not own the Hunger Games. They belong to Suzanne Collins.
Note: Another chapter, another Games full of all kinds of blood and chaos! If any of you have read Born to Die, written by TheConsultingMaurader, then you'll know exactly who this boy is and what he did to outsmart the Capitol. Much like Lammy I had to increase his age due to the whole 'no victors aged twelve or thirteen in canon' thing, but he's still the same boy you may remember. Hope you guys enjoy!
Katniss and Peeta looked down at Tag's face, as if appraising him.
"He doesn't look like much," Katniss said, thoughtful. "But, maybe I'm underestimating him. Perhaps people within his arena did just the same."
"Seems possible. A lot of times the older tributes don't give the young ones enough credit," Peeta added. "Good on Tag for surviving the arena. Hard for anybody to do, no matter what their age is. It's hell."
"Sure is," Katniss agreed, a dark look in her eyes.
Katniss and Peeta held a moment of silence for Tag Nylon, both knowing little about him.
It made sense. After all… Tag Nylon had never been in the arena in the first place. His identical twin brother, Spool Nylon, had been the one to brave the arena in his place. The scant few who knew the truth would go as far as to call it the greatest story never told.
42nd Annual Hunger Games
Name: Spool Nylon
Gender: Male
District: 8
Age: 14
Kills: 4
District Eight wasn't quite the cesspit it had been in the aftermath of the Dark Days and around the time Woof had emerged as a victor. While far from anything resembling homely, it had admittedly come a long way from its once desecrated state. Businesses were getting by – more or less – and the quality of life was at least above that seen in districts Six, Eleven and Twelve.
All the same, life was pretty shit and that was not about to change. Not for a long time. Survival was now in the realm of 'possible', but it still took plenty of work to pull off.
Work that Spool Nylon was ready, willing and able to pull off.
At the age of fourteen Spool had already carved a name for himself in Town 57 within District Eight. His silver tongue was the stuff of seeming legend, forever helping him sell all manner of goods and services to those who lived around him. Fabric that factories threw out, sock puppet shows, drainage cleaning, car washing and even a single case of removing a tracker-jacker hive. It wasn't quite the same pay as what an official job would bring in, but it paid well enough.
Spool wasn't alone in his efforts. He was, in fact, the leader of a gang of boys that collectively called themselves the Sock Knights. A group of four boys from the same housing block his own family lived in – Stretch, Buckle, Mitten and Aglet – as well as his endlessly trustworthy right hand man, his own twin brother Tag. It was almost like they were local celebrities of some sort.
Celebrities who made decent money. Thanks to their efforts not a single one of them nor their family had needed to take out any tesserae since their first reaping at the time of the Fortieth Hunger Games. They were as safe as they could possibly be.
Of course, being as safe as possible does not mean totally safe. In Panem it basically meant 'still in the crosshairs of disaster'.
That was why, with a mere three slips in the reaping bowl, Tag Nylon was reaped to be District Eight's male tribute for the Games. He approached the stage with all the enthusiasm of a corpse, something he felt certain he would become in the coming days.
Weak tributes had won before, but it often involved a bit of luck. Something Tag, being scared of numerous things and having bad asthma, was sure he lacked. Indeed, as he stood on the reaping stage beside the escort – this year dressed as a shopping trolley, obviously – he was already starting to undergo an asthma attack.
Spool did not hesitate to act once the few seconds of shock had passed. He opened his mouth, ready to put his life on the line and trade places with his dear twin.
It was also the exact moment a passing fly chose to go right up to his mouth as he opened it to speak.
Spool choked and wheezed, hacking and writhing until he managed to spit the fly out. Due to this, however, the chance for volunteers had passed by. Indeed, Tag and the girl who had been reaped – a lanky sixteen year old from one of the dye factories - were already being taken into the judgement building by the peacekeepers.
Spool was never one to admit defeat and just allow for something bad to happen. The game had changed a little, but the end result was still going to be the same.
All it took was asking his parents if he could have a few minutes alone with his brother.
"Switch clothes with me."
These were four words that kicked off the biggest scandal that the nation would ever see and not know of until many, many years later.
Tag wiped away his many tears and stared at Spool, bewildered.
"What… what do you mean?" he asked, quiet as a mouse.
"They want Tag Nylon in the arena. If we swap clothes then I can be Tag Nylon for a few weeks," Spool explained, already taking off his hoodie. "You trust me, don't you Tag?"
"I do, I do. But if they catch us… we're both dead," Tag winced, glancing to the door. "Are you sure…?"
"It's now or never," Spool paused, taking a deep breath. "I know it's dangerous, I know I could die… but that's just it, I could die. We both know you will."
"Can't argue that," Tag admitted, folding quickly. "Ok, but what if they tell us apart?"
"We look the same. They only got a good look at us today, they won't know the difference. Just be sure to let nothing slip once the family interviews arrive," Spool said, taking his shirt off. "C'mon, we have about three minutes."
The twins changed quickly, soon wearing each other's outfits. Tag wiped away his tears while Spool poked himself in the eye a few times to force out some tears. To anybody aside their own parents there would be no possible way to tell the pair apart. They were, for all intents and purposes, identical. The Capitol would have no way of knowing they'd gotten the wrong twin.
"I guess I'll… see you soon?" Tag said, forcing a smile.
"You will. Trust me brother, I'll be back in two weeks tops. You'll see," Spool offered his brother a fist bump, one quickly taken. "You may even see me sooner. I have a feeling I'm gonna be on TV in a week."
With a final laugh the Nylon brothers parted ways. Tag walked out the doors to freedom while Spool relaxed upon the sofa within the reaping room.
No alarms went up. Nobody came running. Nobody came by to take a look at him.
It had gone off without a hitch.
The Capitol thought that Tag Nylon had boarded the tribute train not long after that, heading towards certain death after his weak showing upon the reaping stage.
Spool had no intent of correcting them. He played his part well, keeping under the radar as much as possible. He had little intent to cause any trouble until he'd seen his opponents and worked out a game plan.
Still, if the chance arose he might cause a little trouble. He was, after all, Spool Nylon.
"What are you doing, Tag?"
Spool glanced up from his spot by the TV late at night. His mentor, Paige, looked down at him curiously. A glance between the reaping recaps and his rather filled notebook gave her a decent idea on what her tribute was up to.
"Exactly what it looks like. Making notes on who I'm up against," Spool replied. "Seems like a strong group this year. The boy from One seems like a real monster."
"Not as much as that girl from last year," Paige shuddered, a little green in her cheeks at the thought of the dead victor. "…Feel scared? Worried? Is there anything I can do to help?"
"Well… I'd love some cookies right about now," Spool said, grinning cheekily.
Paige paused, looking at her tribute with a puzzled sort of expression.
"What? Something on my face?" Spool asked, smirking.
"…You don't seem as scared as you did on the reaping stage," Paige said, bemused. "It's… you've pulled quite a turn from what I'd been expecting."
"Oh, the crying? The 'asthma'? That was all just an act," Spool replied, turning back to the recaps. "I just wanted the careers to think I'm not any kind of a threat to them. I don't want a target on my back, not like the boy from Five."
It was a fact, the boy from Five was likely to become a major threat. If not for his confidence on how he would be able to win the Games in under a week then perhaps for the simple fact he was another convict sentenced to death who used the reaping to escape his fate.
"Are you a threat though?" Paige asked, sitting herself down beside Spool. "You're just fourteen, Tag."
"Paige, by the time these Games come to an end Panem is gonna see exactly why the name Tag Nylon is one to be remembered," Spool replied, his eyes gleaming with confidence. "I think I've got everything under control."
"Well… I believe you. I was weaker, and I won…" Paige trailed off for a moment, almost zoning out. "Well, anyway, if I can be of any help – for something besides fetching you snack food – let me know."
"Will do," Spool replied, playfully saluting his mentor. "I think we're gonna be a great team, you and I."
Paige smiled, leaving to grab some cookies for Spool – and, perhaps, one for herself – while Spool went back to making all the notes he could think of about his fellow tributes.
Confident as he acted, he wasn't a fool. He knew that he had a very serious problem on his hands this time around. One that was more apparent now than in any other year.
The tributes were huge and he was the only one under the age of fifteen.
After a rather embarrassing parade where he was forced to dress up like a baby blue oven mitt Spool was ready to get stuck into training. People skills were his forte, but not fighting skills. He knew he needed to get cracking soon or he'd be left behind quickly.
But first, survival skills. Living in an urban environment like Eight hadn't gifted him with survival knowledge like tributes from places such as District Seven or Nine would most likely know.
"Not many tributes come here right off the bat," the trainer at the edible plants training station remarked.
"Yeah, and I bet most of those that never come here end up dying," Spool replied briskly. "I'd rather avoid that if I can help it."
The morning passed by slowly as Spool learnt everything he could about edible plants, finding safe water and even what bugs were edible just in case he became that level of desperate. After two hours Spool moved on from survival training to learning about knife fighting. They were the most common weapon in most arenas, so it was merely a matter of common sense.
Nobody paid the smallest tribute any mind at all as the training went by. It suited Spool fine, as it gave him the chance to observe the other tributes as they went about their own training and planning.
As expected the pairs from One, Two and, once again, Four had allied up into one mighty looking career pack. All eighteen, all burly, all of them over six feet tall and not one of them looking like anything less than a pure sadist. The other tributes – most of whom had some muscle on them - were scared shitless of them.
All except the boy from Five and the girl from Seven, of course. The gung-ho and peppy attitude the former had towards murder got him quickly accepted into the pack while the latter's particularly strong survival skills had her accepted as well. Why waste time with training on survival skills if they just had an ally who did it all for them?
It was bad news for Spool, the boy knowing that an eight member career pack would be suicidal to try and take on face to face, He'd have to fight smarter, not harder.
He puzzled over this, wondering how he'd be able to pull it off.
He was no closer to his answer by the end of the first training day, only learning that the scrawny, weak kids from Eleven and Twelve had formed their own alliance.
Spool went to bed thinking, and thinking hard.
Trouble broke out shortly after lunch on the second day of training. The morning had been a quiet, sordid affair with the eight member career pack training with the most terrifying weapons and making plans for the bloodbath, plans Spool hadn't been close enough to overhear. It had also been when the boy from Three sprained his ankle on the obstacle course.
The afternoon kicked off with the careers, as many packs before them had done, taking the time to start mocking and tormenting the weaker tributes. Spool had wisely climbed up into the rope and net course upon the ceiling to evade them and avoid making himself a target. He knew he'd be unable to resist saying something right back at them.
He was unable to hold back when he saw all eight of them cornering his district partner, Jemma, and starting to mock her.
"Did the baby lose her bottle?" Midas, the ferocious boy from One, jeered.
"Why don't we give her one in the arena?" Shine, the girl from One, teasingly added. "I've always wanted to see somebody swallow a glass bottle."
"Sounds like a great idea to me," Midas remarked, laughing loudly.
There was an applause, but not the one any of the pack had particularly wanted. Rather than a cheering crowd or some impressed gamemakers it was a mere slow clapping they received.
A sarcastic, slow sort of clapping.
"Whoa, you're picking on somebody who can't fight back and with eight to one numbers too. You must feel really good about yourselves" Spool remarked, a dull frown adoring his face.
Midas snickered, more amused than anything else. The rest of the pack snickered likewise, the girl from Seven being the last to join when Shipwreck from Four lightly elbowed her.
"Oh, and who might you be?" Midas asked, not remotely bothered.
"Tag Nylon," Spool replied. "So hey, you and your career friends have been training for, say… all your lives, right?"
"Pretty much since we were all five, yeah," Midas said, shrugging. "What of it?"
"Were you so scared at the idea of going head to head with somebody like my district partner that you had to train up for years and form a massive alliance to stand a chance?" Spool let out a cheeky laugh. "That's pretty pathetic."
Midas quickly lost his bored expression, now looking particularly pissed off. His alliance similarly looked offended by the accusation of cowardice.
"Say that again," Midas said, his eyes darkening.
"I said you're cowards. Problem?" Spool asked, turning to casually walk away from the pack. "Just saying, needing eight people to mock one tribute? That's… pretty lame guys."
In all the shouting that followed the initial mockery Jemma was able to quickly scamper off unseen and hid herself in one of the artificial bushes where she remained for much of the day. Spool, meanwhile, had no such escape as the eight members of the pack switched their focus towards him.
He trained hard throughout the day, favouring knives and the crossbow while taking time at the medical training station. On the one hand he hated all the vicious, cruel threats he was receiving.
On the other hand he rather liked being the one and only thing the pack were focusing on for the second half of the day. They appeared blind to anything but the chance to intimidate him. True enough, Spool was rather unnerved by some of their more 'creative' threats, but he'd achieved what he had wanted… and it wasn't just helping Jemma.
"Hey, guys?" Spool said just as training was coming to an ending. "I love a pack of fans following me around just like the next guy, but… you do realise you just wasted half a day of training right?"
A stunned silence confirmed the pack had not, in fact, realised this. At that point it seemed the only logical thing to do was increase the threats cast against Spool and add methods of torture involving knee tendons to the overall list, but Spool was already making his way over towards the elevator to head back to his floor of the training centre. Between listening to threats and having some peace to read a good book he'd pick the latter each time.
He was joined in the elevator by Midas and the career was not happy. On the contrary, he was more than a little pissed off at the younger tribute.
"You have some nerve," Midas hissed, looming over Spool with bulging muscles. "I'd think you'd want to be more careful Tag, given how tiny and weak you are."
"Hey, you should be grateful," Spool forced a look of confidence, trying to not let any kind of anxiety slip. "I just got us a spot in the story."
"The story?" Midas asked, dry.
"Yeah, each Games has a story to be told doesn't it? You know, when they put it on TV for reruns. They have to pack it into three hours, yeah?" Spool, with practised ease, switched into his salesman voice. "Picture this, a massive rivalry breaks out before the Games even start and the desire for a kill is mutual on both ends. Who will win? The leader of an eight person career pack where betrayal is inevitable? Or the shrewd, sly underdog from the textile district? The sponsors eat that kind of stuff up. Don't they tell careers about the showbiz side of the Games?"
Midas paused upon hearing this, mulling it over in his head. He rather liked the idea of having the edge on his alliance when it came to sponsors. With thoughts of fame and stardom increasing his already considerable greed he was quick to shake Spool's hand, almost crushing it in the process.
"Alright, I'm in, let's make a show out of it," Midas snickered at the sight of Spool holding his rather sore hand. "Nobody's gonna forget about me when these Games are done. Sweet dreams 'rival'."
"Sweet dreams," Spool muttered as Midas left the elevator.
Once Midas was gone Spool let out a chuckle. Despite the throbbing of his hand he felt rather satisfied by all that had transpired. Indeed, he seemed smug!
"Oh Midas, all that glitters is not gold. Let's see how quickly you learn that."
Spool's score of eight would have been pretty decent in most years, but this year was a particularly strong one. Only three tributes, Jemma included, scored below a six, the pair from Eleven achieved sixes and the rest all scored anywhere from seven to eleven. Midas was one of the lattermost scorers alongside Asterix and Getafix, the boy and girl from Two, and made certain to brag about it in his interview.
"Obviously I knew that I was going to score high. Problem was that I expected a twelve," Midas gave a mock sigh. "As if that wasn't bad enough, Tag only scored an eight."
"Oh, you have a little something with Tag?" Caesar asked, rather curious. "An alliance perhaps?"
"Quite the opposite," Midas said, snickering. "More of a rivalry. He mocked me a lot in training and I did not like it. Not one bit. I intend to show him that my alliance is strong and how we're not a pack of 'cowards' as he put it."
"I like that ferocity, I love it!" Caesar exclaimed. "Think your rivalry will be settled tomorrow or do you see it playing out for longer?"
"Hard to say for sure. Tag's a tricky one, but it's just a matter of time. When we clash blood will be spilt," Midas vowed.
The interviews kept passing by, much of the careers making similar curses towards Spool or threats towards other outliers. Shipwreck in particular was more than ready to get on with gutting Jemma and the pair from Twelve. The audience ate up all the threats and the attempts of the outliers to look tough, like the boy from Seven talking about his time in wrestling club and the girl from Six mentioned a few bar fights she won.
They were all forgotten when Spool took to the stage, sauntering on and waving to the crowd. He played them with ease as he took his seat beside Caesar, most of the audience starting to believe 'his' reaction on the reaping stage had been a mere act.
"Oh, yeah, I may have implied Midas and his crew were a pack of cowards. But I'm fourteen and apparently that means I just cannot keep my mouth shut. Teenagers are pretty reckless, so they say," Spool relaxed in his chair, hands behind his head.
The audience loved it all. From Spool's tales about his desires to be the ultimate businessman within District Eight, his fondness of old medieval stories of great knights and his relaxed confidence and charisma he displayed with such ease it all added to him being one of the Capitol's favourites.
"So tell us Tag, anybody back home you're winning this for? A little lady perhaps?" Caesar asked, as if slyly asking a secret of a trusted friend.
"Nah, no time for girls when there's work to be done," Spool replied, unphased. "If I can win the Games then my family won't ever want for anything again, same for my friends. I'm doing this for my parents and my brother Spool, who is awesome by the way."
Spool turned towards the audience and let out a loud 'psssst' sound.
"Guys, spoiler alert, bet on me!" Spool stage whispered. "Tag Nylon, your next victor."
Spool left the stage to a thunderous applause, whispers of his brother's name filling the audience throughout the girl from Nine's interview. The poor girl got hardly any coverage.
Spool pitied her, but knew only one was getting out alive. He'd laid out the groundwork for his spot in the narrative and learnt all the skills he could manage. He'd sold himself to the audience with all the charisma he had.
All that remained was fighting his way to the top, hard as it would be.
On the District Eight floor of the tribute building that night Spool leaned towards Jemma's ear as they quietly sat down to watch TV.
"Allies?" Spool offered her.
Jemma sobbed and sniffled, but nonetheless gave Spool a weak nod.
Spool was launched into the arena the next morning and, after taking a quick glance at the arena, let out an unimpressed sigh.
"I really wanted some kind of desert or maybe a city," Spool said, shaking his head.
The arena of the Forty Second Hunger Games was a grand, dark forest. The sky and the ground were all tinted a sickly, poisonous shade of green while the bark of all the trees was a charbroiled tone of black. Rivers were easily visible from the forest clearing that housed the silver cornucopia, all of them noxiously green and horribly acidic. All the large roots of trees that grew into them were horrifically gnarled and burnt.
The countdown began before Spool could really put together a quick plan. He smiled when he spotted Jemma on the pedestal directly to his right, but his smile vanished when he saw Getafix two spots down from Jemma, Shipwreck directly to his left and Midas just beyond Shipwreck. It was one of the worst starting formations possible.
Midas glanced at Spool for a moment. He smirked.
Spool tried to return the smirk, directing his focus towards a large pack about thirty yards from where Midas was standing. He readied himself to run.
The gong rang sooner than later and the Games began with all of the tributes staying by the cornucopia to battle it out. Midas easily reached the pack before Spool could come anywhere close to it. His triumphant grin turned into fury when he realised he'd been duped; Spool had never planned on going for the pack, merely gazing at it to fake him out.
He watched as, beyond Shipwreck slitting the boy from Seven's throat wide open, Spool had grabbed an entirely different pack and was trying to get Jemma to move off her pedestal and flee with him. The girl was in the midst of a breakdown, crying hysterically and remaining immobile on her launch plate as Spool tugged on her arm.
"Jemma, come on! We've gotta get out of here!"
Spool barely dodged the spear that was sent his way by Asterix. Seeing that Midas was coming at him, knife in hand, he made the first of many hard decisions. With a last, sympathetic look at Jemma he tore off into the overgrowth of the forest.
As annoyed as Midas was that the annoying kid from Eight had managed to evade him for now, he soon shrugged to himself. Plenty more killing to be done until he could track down his little adversary. With a casual strut he approached Jemma and drove his knife right into her throat, twisting the blade to ensure extra pain.
"Yeah! See that sponsors?" Midas asked, letting Jemma's body fall upon her launch plate. "Tag's gonna get triple what I just did!"
A laugh rang through the air. Vuller from Five casually chopped of the fingers of the screaming boy from Eleven, whistling a fond tune as he did so.
"Oh boy, I just love killing!" Vuller exclaimed, sounding outright pleasant. "Young, old, human, animal, doesn't matter! I just gotta kill, haha!"
Midas shook his head, slightly disturbed at the sight of this.
"Hey, Vuller! If you like killing so much try to stop people from getting away!" Midas barked, turning his attention to the tiny boy from Six who'd been sneaking away with a small sack of bread.
Vuller did as he was asked and sped off after the fleeing form of the boy from Twelve. The miner boy was skinny and half-starved, but he wasn't slow. Against all odds he managed to outrun the murderer from the power district in short order.
Vuller did, however, manage to spot Spool hauling his way up a steep, muddy bank not far from where he was. Ignoring the way Spool was cautiously looking above him Vuller charged onwards, knife in hand.
"Oh boy, here I go killing again!" Vuller exclaimed with a laugh.
Spool didn't panic, instead working to reach the top of the bank before Vuller reached him. He and the maniac locked eyes for a brief moment.
No words were spoken. Spool threw his bag of supplies high into the air and ran off with only a knife to his name. The bag struck something in the trees, landing in Vuller's hands a moment later.
"Finders keepers!" the boy said, laughing.
A moment later a nest of disturbed, furious tracker jackers fell down onto his head. Vuller's screams were loud, but the buzzing was much louder. He died with little fanfare and tons of agony.
The bloodbath ended with the death of the chubby boy from Three at the sharp end up Midas' sword. Eleven cannons fired out while the remaining tributes began to either arm up in the case of the now seven strong career pack, or spread out as far away as possible in the case of the outliers.
Midas and Spool got the bulk of the screen time. Their rivalry was the pre-game focus and the fact both were alive and unharmed had all the Capitol citizens on the edges of their seats.
The careers soon left to hunt through the acidic forest in the general direction that Spool had ran. They were soon treated to the sight of Vuller's bloated corpse.
"This is Tag's handiwork alright. We're on his trial," Midas said, ever confident.
They hadn't realised that Spool had already taken to the trees and doubled back through the thick branches and long vines. The large pack vanished into the rising mist, giving Spool the chance to return to the cornucopia and start ransacking several of the supplies.
He wasn't alone for long.
Spool watched as the boy from Twelve, Orinoco, approached him from the mist. The fast boy had stayed close enough to watch Vuller to taken out and the pack leave. For a short time all was silent as the boys warily surveyed each other, separately working to gather up equipment.
Spool had a backpack of water, food, knives and held a short sword in his hand. Orinoco had much the same in his own bag but instead held a hatchet and stood as the only one left of his planned alliance. The elevens and his district partner had been brutally killed by the Twos.
"…Allies?" Spool suggested. "I think we're the youngest tributes left. Might as well team up if we're gonna topple the older, stronger troubles."
"I like the way you think," Orinoco agreed, relaxing slightly. "Allies it is."
With a light tap of sword against hatchet a new alliance was formed.
The second day was no better than the first. The acid water was proving to be incredibly hard for the tributes to find safe ways to cross, owing to the notable lack of any bridges. But more than that, it was proving itself to be undrinkable. It was a mistake that the girl from Five would not make a second time. She'd survived, but not without scorching all of her mouth and throat ever so badly.
Spool took a nice gulp from one of his own water bottles, thankfully filled with safe and clean water, and glanced towards his ally as they crossed a fallen tree over an acidic pond.
"Our water won't last forever," Spool said, capping his bottle. "We can't just go back to the cornucopia any time we need more."
"I guess not. How're we getting more then?" Orinoco gestured to the pond, shaking his head. "I'm not desperate enough to drink that shit."
"Got that right. The gamemakers won't have made it impossible to find water…" Spool paused, tapping his chin. "There has to be more. It's just… hidden."
"Hidden where?" Orinoco asked. "Just dirt, acid and trees for miles."
"Hmmm, true, it is just that… so it must be hidden within them!" Spool snapped his fingers, inspired. He approached a nearby tree, surveying it up and down. "Ok, let's see here…"
"What is it?" Orinoco asked, curious.
A cannon boomed throughout the arena. The boys were silent for a moment, listening carefully. A hovercraft descended around five miles to the north of them, barely audible.
"Well, it's the final twelve. Halfway towards home," Spool remarked. "But also, I think the water might be in the trees."
Spool struck the tree with his sword. The weapon, being hardly the sort of thing to be used on trees, hardly did a thing. But, what little it did caused droplets of water to leak out from within the bark. Orinoco approached the tree with a grin.
"Smart thinking Tag," Orinoco said, smashing his axe at the tree. Water gushed out a moment later. "Think the careers will work this one out?"
"If we're lucky then they'll be stupid," Spool said, letting some of the water trickle into his bottle. "If any of them are going to work it out it'll be the girl from Seven. The survivalist."
The pair were quiet for a while as they refilled their water bottles. Both were starting to think of the same thing, it was just a matter of who would say it first.
"…She'd not figure it out if she was dead," Orinoco muttered.
"Indeed not," Spool said as he and his ally continued walking. "The dead don't tend to think much of anything."
Both knew what they had to do if their idea of depriving the careers of water was to have any feasible way of working.
They'd have to track down the pack and kill the girl from Seven who walked amongst them.
Most of the time outliers would avoid the careers like the plague, at least until several of them were already dead. Seeking out a seven member pack was suicide, plain and simple. And yet, that was exactly what Spool and Orinoco were doing throughout the next few days in the arena. With their knowledge of how to quickly acquire more water time was not of the essence, though that didn't cause them to relax.
One didn't need charisma to know that relaxing within the arena was a particularly bad idea.
The pack's lack of need for any amount of stealth helped Spool and Orinoco track them down midway through the afternoon of the fifth day. The cries of their latest victim also helped.
Spool split up from his ally for the time being and moved through the upper branches, ever careful to avoid any weak branches or the danger of losing his footing. He soon sat himself in the upper canopy, flinching from the sight of the careers kicking around the girl from Nine. The poor girl was already beaten and bloody, hardly able to move after all the pain the pack had inflicted upon her.
"Where's your mentor now?" Midas asked, chuckling as he struck the girl with his sword. He practically basked in the boom of the cannon.
"Not bad," Asterix said, cracking his knuckles. "They all going to be that easy?"
"Seems like it. I expected better. I thought all of the tributes still alive scored an eight or better," Midas shook his head, annoyed. "Shame really. Didn't want it being too easy. Not enough glorious battles."
"Maybe try taking them on single handed? Fighting six against one is pretty pathetic," Spool remarked from his spot up in the forest canopy. "I guess I was right, you guys are cowards. Scared?"
The career pack looked up to where Spool was gazing down at them. Getafix readied herself to toss a knife towards him, only for Midas to hold up a hand and shake his head.
"The leaves and branches. They'd get in the way," Midas said, frowning up at Spool. "So, finally showing your face Tag? I was wondering where you'd gotten off to. Having fun climbing around like an animal?"
"Oh sure, tons. It's a lot better than walking around like a mule on the ground," Spool replied, dramatically stretching out. "Can't have been much fun for you guys, seeing that you're already two members down. What happened to the Four girl?"
"Starboard tripped into an acid river and lost most of her skin," Shipwreck spat on the ground, irritated. "Getafix put her out of her misery after that."
Spool couldn't hold back a loud snort.
"Getafix?" Spool asked. "Like, getting a fix of beer or-."
"No you halfwit. It was the name of a Gaul druid!" Getafix said, scowling. "What do you want? No tribute seeks out the careers for no reason."
"Yeah, most of the time they run away screaming. What are you up to?" Shine from One asked.
"Let me answer that with three questions," Spool replied, moving himself slightly higher up within the canopy. "Firstly, have you seen the crocodiles swimming around in the acid? How do you think they're not ending up like Starboard did?"
"Because they're made to be strong." Midas said, shrugging. "It's not something anybody in here needs to ask about."
"Fair," Spool said, shrugging. He suddenly let out a few loud, exaggerated coughs. "Sorry, fly in my throat. Anyway, question two, how are you guys doing for water? Feeling thirsty?"
The pack didn't respond with words, only angry glares. Midas crossed his arms, his muscles bulging as he let out a deep growl.
"I'll take that to mean you're getting lower on water. I guess your outlier recruit can find it for you," Spool mused. "Oh hey, that reminds me, final question… why has your ally from Seven not said anything for a while?"
A cannon fired a moment later. The five careers turned to their ally, only to see she was laying crumpled upon her side, a hatchet buried deeply into the back of her neck. One that had been thrown from a decent distance away.
They turned back to the trees, ready to start trying to attack Spool, but the wily boy had already vanished from sight.
"Spread out! Find him! But when we do, I'll be the one killing him!" Midas barked, pointing his sword towards the overgrowth.
The pack of five thundered off towards the depths of the acidic forest and soon enough were out of sight and hearing range. A few minutes after that Spool let himself drop down to the ground and headed to where Orinoco had hidden himself behind a large tree. He looked like he was a world away.
"Feeling ok?" Spool asked him.
"…No," Orinoco said, shuddering. "I didn't enjoy that Tag."
"I didn't enjoy watching it," Spool agreed. "It's my fault too, I covered up the sound of the hatchet. We did what we had to do."
The boys left the area, trying to keep on telling themselves that. They hoped they'd end up believing it, whether it was true or not.
As Petal's corpse was lifted out by the hovercraft Spool knew that, if nothing else, her skills died with her and the careers had lost all knowledge Petal could've given them the moment she died. In time the effects of this would surely begin to show.
The water had started to rise little by little.
A week had gone by and ten tributes were still alive. The five member career pack, Spool and Orinoco, the girl from Five with the scorched mouth and the pair from Ten. The audience had been hooked on the personalities of the tributes, the one thing that had kept the gamemakers from pressing the flood button for so long.
The audience within the Capitol were simply entranced by Midas' role as the baddie of the arena, the complete trust and teamwork of the Twos, the salty banter and bickering shared between Shine and Shipwreck, the slow burn romance that has ever so slightly started to unfold between the Tens and, of course, the funny noises the barely aware girl from Five made.
Most of all however, they couldn't look away from Spool and Orinoco as they made their way around the arena, using guile rather than gutting to keep surviving day after day. Whether it was crossing an acidic swampland across logs, working hard to set up a log shelter or even trapping a dear for dinner the pair were able to keep on surviving by their own simple philosophy.
'What do I have, what do I want and how can I use the former to get the latter'.
This and their genuine friendship kept the hearts of the Capitol going out towards them. The way the two boys, one fourteen and one only just fifteen, got along so well and started to play out the roles of valiant knights to fill up the long days made it impossible to not like them. Tag and Orinoco were names that everybody was speaking.
None of the Hunger Games fans realised for a moment that Tag Nylon had never left District Eight in the first place.
But even the way the boys entertained the Capitol did not keep the acidic waters at low level forever. On the tenth day the order was passed to start seriously flooding the arena and force the tributes closer together.
The acid moving three meters higher was all that was needed for forty percent of the arena to become impassable and for Uranium from Five to have her legs horrifically scorched by the acid to the point she could not walk anymore. It was almost a blessing for Uranium when the careers found her and Midas added another kill to his overall score.
It was, however, no blessing for Spool. It was just his alliance against the career pack and the Tens. His options were to attack the Tens, ally with the Tens against the careers or to ignore the Tens and find a way to break apart the pack.
He and Orinoco, hidden high up the top of one of the tallest trees of the arena, stayed up late to try and work out what they could do about the dead end they had started to get backed into.
"Well, Sir Nylon, we cannot simply walk up and fight them. We'd be ever so butchered," Orinoco said, a hand to his chin. "Your squire lacks ideas."
"Fret not squire, your knight lacks a plan as well," Spool replied, gazing up at the starry sky. "We can't fight them. Even one on one would be quite the bother right now."
"So, pray tell, we have to somehow defeat them without fighting?" Orinoco asked, sceptical.
"Aye, it appears that way. The pen is mightier than the sword," Spool said, nodding. "Or, the brain? Whatever, you know what I meant."
The pair stargazed together for a while, occasionally making up constellations within the fake sky. Midnight went by and soon Orinoco sighed, tired and sad.
"I miss home," Orinoco said, lamely. "My parents… my aunt… my twin brother, Ozzy. It's like there's a world away. Just thinking about them hurts."
"I know the feeling," Spool closed his eyes, letting out a sombre sigh of his own. "Mom and dad are probably worried sick about me. I have a twin too you know. I bet T… T…um…"
"What?" Orinoco asked, curious.
Spool paused to rub his tired eyes, forcing a yawn.
"Sorry, kinda just lost my train of thought there. I'm tired," Spool said, swiftly recovering. "As I was saying, I bet that right about now Spool is freaking out about me. He was always the coolest kid on the block, the strong one. He'd know what to do."
"You think?" Orinoco asked.
"I know," Spool replied. "I guess our best plan is… wait for the pack to break apart."
"Can we really wait that long?" Orinoco sighed, pausing to take a swig of his water bottle. "I mean, seriously, can we?"
"I don't think we can," Spool said, his expression hardening. "We may have to find the pack again and nudge them along towards breaking."
It was just after the midnight that signalled the start of the twelfth day that Spool and Orinoco managed to track down the careers. They were all camped out at the cornucopia, dozing within the silver horn in the comfort of blankets and sleeping bags. Spool and Orinoco peered at them carefully, trying to spot if there was a guard on duty or if anybody was missing.
"If only we had a ranged weapon," Spool said, shaking his head.
Orinoco helped up his hatchet in response to this, only for Spool to shake his head.
"I mean like a crossbow or something," Spool replied. "Guess we'll have to get in closer. We can't kill from a range."
After a few minutes of watching the sleeping careers – during which time it became clear that the guard, whoever it had been, had fallen asleep on duty – Spool made his way out of the overgrowth and started to sneak towards the cornucopia.
"Keep an eye out for the Tens," Spool whispered. "Stay out of sight, this is gonna be deadly."
Orinoco saluted and sunk away into the shadows. The nation watched as Spool carefully made his way towards the sleeping pack of killers, each step silent as the footsteps of a common ant. Soon enough Spool had reached his goal.
He worked incredibly fast.
With time of the essence Spool covered a knife upon the ground in the blood of a wild rabbit he'd hunted for dinner earlier in the day. He didn't dare breath as he placed the dagger within Getafix's hand.
After that he used his own knife to stab Shipwreck, the one sleeping nearest to the exit of the cornucopia, through the throat. He finished his plan by tossing a pebble at Getafix and fleeing into the night, grabbing a metal container of water along the way.
As the cannon boomed Spool and Orinoco were quick to run away, the screams of agony coming from Getafix filling up the night. She'd been the first to awaken and with a knife in her hand. With the cannon waking up the others to the sight of Shipwreck's bloody corpse it had been all too easy for her allies, mainly Midas, to jump to conclusions.
"Two careers down, three to go," Spool whispered.
"And now we're both murderers," Orinoco added. "…Let's just keep walking."
Spool didn't say it out loud, but he was glad Orinoco didn't congratulate him for what he had done. It was done out of pure necessity, not thrills or fun.
On the fourteenth day the cannon fired for the boy from Ten. After he and his district partner barely evaded an angry crocodile mutt they ended up crossing paths with the careers. The girl managed to escape with her life over a series of logs across a wide acid lake while her district partner was killed by Midas' ever more bloodsoaked sword.
But not before leaving Shine with a broken nose, three broken ribs and a badly bleeding left hand. Asterix hadn't walked away unscathed either, having ended up being partly knocked into the acid water midway through the messy battle. The careers were getting very low on water by this point and it was affecting their ability to fight.
At the time of the fight Spool and Orinoco had been four miles away setting down traps to catch wild animals in for food, and perhaps other tributes too. They took a break from their work, collecting water from the trees to rehydrate themselves. Survival within an acidic forest was thirsty work.
"Water's rising again m'lord," Orinoco said, gesturing to a nearby pool of water. "Another meter higher to my count."
"At this rate we'll have less than half the arena left to explore," Spool replied, finishing off the water within the metal container. "Squire, how lethal would you say the acid is?"
"Hm… particularly lethal and then some, m'lord," the miner boy replied. "Only a fool would touch it with their bare hands."
"…And yet, perhaps a smarter man could try and make use of it," Spool said, starting to pace around. "It's like we said, 'what we do have, what do we want and how can we use the former to get the latter'. Right now what we have is craploads of acid."
"What, you thinking of using the acid?" Orinoco paused, looking doubtful. "Really?"
"Really. I can see it being useful if we, you know, weaponize it," Spool said, optimistic. "Although how to scoop some of it up is the question…"
For once Spool lacked a clear idea on what to do. He wasn't going to be able to touch the stuff and the plastic water bottles were likely to dissolve from the sheer corrosive effects of the acid.
"Why not use the metal water bottle?" Orinoco suggested.
"…Orinoco, you're a genius," Spool said with a genuine grin.
Spool carefully used the metal bottle to scoop up half a litre of the acid and capped it. He and Orinoco observed the bottle containing the most potent mixture of the arena.
"What should we do with it Tag?" Orinoco asked.
"Throw it at somebody, I reckon," Spool replied, carefully pocketing the bottle. "Let's not seek them out. Let them come to us this time."
They arrived during the early morning of the sixteenth day. One moment the boys had been walking through a particularly thick part of the forest. The next moment the Ones had burst out of the bushes with murderous intent.
It was a small mercy that Asterix had split from the pack and was wandering miles away. Small indeed with how many times the Ones nearly hit the boys with their blades in the first minute of fighting alone.
Spool ordered a retreat towards somewhere else, anywhere else where they'd have more of an advantageous position. To his credit the ensuring chase led to Midas getting himself tangled up within vines and bushes, bellowing out a vicious string of curses and threats to his fleeing prey.
"I'll kill you! I'll be in the nightmares of kids from Eight for generations!" Midas roared.
But soon he was out of the chase and only Shine remained to be faced off against. The brawl was fast, messy and brutal as the trio fought in a dark glade of the toxic forest. Spool duelled for his life and Orinoco tried to his to bring Shine to the ground.
Spool lost an ear, Shine lost an eye but Orinoco lost the most of all. With two well aimed knives from Shine he ended up losing his life. Spool had no chance to say a farewell to his brotherly ally, having been punched down to the ground. He had only a moment to watch as the light faded from Orinoco's eyes, two knives buried deeply into his chest. The cannon boomed and his temper was lost.
"Heh… needed years of training to take down somebody three years… younger than you?" Spool asked, spitting out some blood.
"I've had enough of your attitude," Shine said, brandishing her knives. "I'm gonna enjoy shutting you up."
Spool fumbled to take the metal water bottle from his jacket pocket and rapidly unscrew the lid before it became too late.
"I'll enjoy making you do just the opposite," Spool replied.
Shine lunged, but Spool acted faster. The knife was dropped to the dirt when a half-litre of acid splashed across Shine's face. One second passed with her shouting in simple annoyance.
Another second passed with her screaming in the most awful wail of agony, with the seconds afterwards continuing to be much the same. Spool scrambled backwards to avoid Shine falling upon him, her face melting away to reveal her skull underneath. Even as her facial muscles burnt away her screaming didn't cease.
Spool gasped and wheezed as his breath slowly came back to him. He wasted no time in pillaging her of what little she'd had within her duffel bag and moving over to knee by Orinoco's body.
"You were a valiant knight… my best mate. A sock knight to the end," Spool whispered, crossing Orinoco's arms and shutting his eyes. "I'll make them pay."
He never did specify he didn't exactly mean the remaining careers. But, he'd never been honest with the Capitol from the very start, so why start telling the truth now? Even if it took his whole life he'd play a part in making the grand city burn.
But until then, there was a Games to be won.
Spool left the area before Midas could finally catch up and make a claim on his life. As he passes through the ever deeper acidic swamplands he received a sponsor parachute containing what he needed most.
A crossbow.
The next two days dragged by as the last four tributes wandered around the arena without any destinations in mind. The cameras barely gave Mare from Ten any screentime, the tall cowgirl having become the most forgettable of the final four, albeit not forgettable enough for the gamemakers to resort to mutts. Asterix had his own fans rooting for him, but the fact remained that the bulky boy wasn't doing much aside fighting mutts here and there as he speared his way through the forest.
The cameras mainly focused on Spool and Midas, the knight and the dragon as they were becoming known as. Spool kept himself fed through his own resourcefulness and quick thinking, keeping the audience invested with plans of future businesses he'd be creating once he won the Games. Midas, meanwhile, embraced his role as a monster of the arena and worked hard to track down his last few opponents, keeping a special eye out for Spool. He was more than happy to tell the cameras of his plans to cut off Spool's arms and legs.
He had no idea he didn't even know the name of his rival.
The gamemakers kept raising the acid bit by bit and working to slowly move the tributes together. Mare and Asterix were still a distance apart deeper in the forest, while the clash between Spool and Midas was coming ever closer. With every passing hour they got nearer and nearer.
They met at sunset of the eighteenth day.
"Ready to die?" Midas asked, readying his sword.
"Ready to lose?" Spool replied, balling his fists.
"Not as much as your miner friend was," Midas replied, snickering. "Did Shine make it hurt? Did she butcher him? Did he cry like a slaughtered pig?"
Spool did not rise to the bait, simply waiting for Midas to make his move. The career boy soon grew tired of mocking Spool when it became clear that provoking him into making a mistake was not going to work.
"You're no fun Tag. Whatever, let's do this," Midas got himself in the battle stance he'd perfected over many years. "On your guard!"
Tag responded by whipping out his crossbow and firing an arrow right into Midas' left arm. The career snarled, but wasn't out of the fight by any means.
"Ranged fighting? Coward!" Midas barked.
"Fight smarter, not harder Midas," Spool replied, backing away to a nearby tree as he loaded in another arrow.
Midas surged forwards, much faster than Spool had expected him to. Spool dodged out of the way of what would've been a lethal sword swing, dropping his crossbow. He scrambled up, arming himself with his sword sword, and watched as Midas tore his sword free of the tree's bark. Water cascaded from within, briefly stumping Midas.
"…The water was in the trees," Midas whispered, stunned.
"I worked it out weeks ago," Spool replied, making a few fancy movements with his short sword. "If it's a hand to hand fight you want, it's one you'll get."
"How generous of you," Midas replied, sneering.
Blade clashed against blade, sparks flying every time a bladelock ensued. Sometimes Spool would force Midas back, other times Midas would sent Spool stumbling. Both were soon sporting non-fatal wounds and a look of tiredness in their eyes. With Spool's smaller size and Midas' considerable dehydration they were practically equal in their combat abilities.
Eventually, though, Midas managed a nasty slash across Spool's chest. Any deeper and it would surely have been a mortal wound. Spool staggered in agony while Midas panted in triumph and exhaustion.
"Not bad," Midas said, taking a step backwards from his almost beaten rival. "Not bad at all. Ha, the strongest boy from Eight in years failed to kill me. I'll be a monster in the minds of your district's kids for years! None of them will forget what comes next."
Midas readied himself for the final killing blow.
"Gonna run Tag?" Midas asked, smirking. "Fourth isn't that good, you know."
"Oh, I know," Spool said, wheezing. He narrowed his eyes. "…But first is better."
Before Midas could react Spool had barrelled at him elbow first with the last of his energy. Midas had expected his wounded opponent to try and run away, not to keep fighting despite how reckless and foolish such an action was. Midas was sent backwards for a full two meters… exactly enough for him to fall backwards on a muddy bank and into the acidic river that they'd duelled beside.
Spool grabbed up Midas' fallen bag as the career screamed and thrashed around in immense agony. He was able to bandage himself up and apply some wound sealer with Midas' gear before the career, now horribly scorched and losing some of his skin, got back onto dry land. He was hardly able to crawl along after his terrible dunking.
"It ends now," Spool said, picking his short sword back up.
"I'm ok with that," Midas said, spitting out blood. "If you kill me, it'll be a glorious battle that'll never be forgotten. Whether you win or lose we'll never be forgotten! I'll never be forgotten! My name will go down as the most powerful career of these Games, the one who slaughtered so many tributes on the way! My name will be like that of the grim reaper within Eight. Go on, kill me… start a legend…"
Spool paused for a moment. He narrowed his eyes again as he approached Midas. The beaten career smirked to himself, seeming assured that he'd go down as a glorious warrior.
He was stumped when Spool dropped his bag of supplies in front of him.
"What?" Midas said, lost.
"You're no rival of mine. You're no ferocious beast either. Certainly not some dragon that fought a knight," Spool said, already turning to leave. "You were just some thug who tried to mug me early on in my life, one with an attitude problem. One that needed years of training to be able to kill innocent people, like my poor district partner whose only crime was crying because she was scared. Goodbye Midas, I'm sure your sponsors will restore you. I'm not gonna end you; you're not worth killing."
Spool left the area with Midas' indignant, furious screaming and shouting echoing behind him. After how much the boy's arrogance and sadism had annoyed him he felt this was a suitable way of messing with him. Simply act like Midas truly did not matter at all to him. What better way was there to mess with the most arrogant of men?
"Better head to the cornucopia," Spool muttered to himself. "Nameless thug did a number on me."
The tribute headcount was down to three as the nineteenth day arrived in the arena. Midas had ended up dying the most forgettable death of the entire Games, a random and pointless loss against a crocodile mutt, and already the Capitol citizens hardly had anything much to recall about him. He was old news.
All eyes were on the last three tributes, especially Spool. While wounded, the small boy had managed to reach the silver horn and use what little was left to get himself back into more or less stable-ish shape. He was limping, but alive.
The journey within the arena came to an end towards sunset of the nineteenth day. Spool had been walking through the forest, keeping an ear out for his last two opponents, when noise entered his remaining ear.
Shouting and yelling.
Spool limped off in the direction of the noises as best as his wounded body could manage. He arrived just in time to see Mare landing a brutal punch to Asterix's throat and then upper cutting the boy into the acidic water. It didn't take long for him to die after that.
It didn't take long for Mare to die either. Spool took his chance to fire an arrow from his crossbow right towards her before she even knew he was there. The arrow pierced her throat easily. Spool flinched as Mare dropped to the ground choking and gasping, her body going very still mere seconds later.
The cannon boomed and the trumpets rang out. Spool sighed in sheer relief as he casually tossed away his weapons down towards the ground.
"I said I'd be back home in two weeks brother. Seems like I was wrong," Spool said, leaning against a tree for some support. "But I wasn't wrong when I said I'd be home. I'll see you soon."
The interview with Caesar after his victory went fine for Spool. In fact, it was deemed as one of the most successful interviews performed by a victor. The Capitol loved how their newest victor 'Tag' had such natural charisma, easily able to play to a crowd.
Similarly, the after-party at Snow's mansion went off without a hitch. Spool pressed nobody's buttons and managed to remain chill and polite for the entire night, as much as he wanted to curse the Capitol citizens for their use of 'vomit cola' to ensure they could keep eating.
It was during his final night before going home that something came up. But it wasn't the Capitol who discovered Spool's twin switch secret – they'd remain in the dark for many, many years yet to come – nor was it anybody who would pose him any kind of harm nor risk.
It was an old acquaintance of his.
Spool had been relaxing in his room at the tribute building, almost ready to call it a night and call his whole scam against the Capitol a complete success. But then, there was a knock at his door.
"Who could that be? I thought everybody was sleeping," Spool said to himself as he approached the door.
He opened the door, finding himself surprised to see one of the victors from a different district looking back at him. Her short height, her long ginger hair, her freckles… it was hard not to recognise Lammy Phyronix.
"Good evening," Lammy said, absentmindedly wringing her shirt. "Congratulations on your victory Tag."
"Oh, thanks Lammy," Spool said, already relaxing. "You're not, uh… furious I killed your tribute?"
"Not happy, but not angry. You did what you needed to… same as me when it was my time in the arena," Lammy said, glancing to the side. "I'm gonna make it a yearly thing, congratulating the victor. I was gonna do it last year, but…"
"Mascara was too scary?" Spool guessed.
"Oh my goodness, yes!" Lammy exclaimed, her eyes wide. "Now she's dead, and… um… I don't know…"
Spool soon invited Lammy into his room so they could talk without risk of waking up the other victors from Eight. It started off slow, simple discussion about their young lives and remembering the fallen tributes who had died along the way that year, but before long Spool made his one mistake.
He relaxed.
"It's good to see you again Lammy," Spool said, smiling at his new friend. "Been too long since we last saw each other."
"Hm, when did we meet?" Lammy paused, thinking hard. "Wait, do you mean the victory tour? Tag, I don't remember seeing you there."
"No, before that. When you were eleven and I was nine. You and your dad came to District Eight for some trapping job. Nasty dogs were on the loose and the peacekeepers couldn't handle it. You came to watch one of the puppet shows my gang put on," Spool smiled at the memory from a relatively simpler time. "We spoke after the show while the other boys put the puppets away."
Lammy's eyes lightened up, the memory coming back to her. She couldn't help but smile at her fellow victor.
"Aww, that's right. That was a lovely afternoon. I never though I'd see you again… wait… no, hang on…" Lammy trailed off, starting to look confused and then looking at Spool in sheer amazement.
"What? What is it?" Spool glanced behind him. "…Something on my face? Is it the dyed fringe being too much?"
"No, it's just… Tag, you never spoke to me. You stood back because you were shy. Spool was the twin who took the chance to say hello," Lammy gazed into Spool's eyes, the pieces all coming together. "…You're not Tag at all, are you? You're Spool."
"Ssshhhh!" Spool frantically gestured for Lammy to be quiet. "Ssshh! Lammy, if they hear that-!"
"Don't worry, I don't think the tribute bedrooms have anything in them. They did a bit of renovating while you were in the arena and I don't think the avoxes got around to bugging the place," Lammy paused, looking at Spool in awe. "…You tricked the Capitol."
"I did, and they'll never know about it," Spool insisted. "The best scams are the ones nobody realised were pulled on them. I guess I was foolish to let my guard down… but you won't tell anybody, will you?"
Lammy observed the younger victor in front of her, now looking very nervous indeed. The trapper girl warmly smiled, patting him on the back.
"It'll be our little secret," Lammy promised. "I won't tell anybody. Not Stallion, not any tributes I mentor or victors I bring back. Nobody."
"Thank you Lammy," Spool said, weakly chuckling. "I owe you one."
"Oh, you do? Well in that case…" Lammy gave Spool a cheeky look. "Your victor stipend will have gone through now. Order us some takeout will you? I'm starving."
Spool couldn't help but laugh alongside his new favourite victor.
"I'll do you one better, I'll buy us some drinks too," Spool said, snickering. "A toast to me, the magnificent boy who tricked the Capitol."
"I'll drink to that," Lammy agreed with a soft giggle.
Spool returned home victorious to District Eight the very next day. The train pulled into the station under the light of the setting sun where a massive crowd gathered to meet him with loud applause.
Of course, Spool only had eyes for one person at the moment of his arrival. The real Tag Nylon.
Spool leapt off the station's platform and out into the crowd the moment his brother called to him. The twins, finally reunited, embraced tightly.
"Told you I had it all under control, 'Spool'," Spool whispered.
"I knew you had it in you 'Tag'," Tag whispered.
With that, the celebrations began. Street parties, loud singing, even a few peacekeepers got in on the action and got themselves a bit tipsy on duty. It made it much easier for them to be bribed to allow the partying to continue all throughout the night.
Spool, meanwhile, was content to relax upon the balcony of the new mansion he'd won for himself and his family as part of his victory. He stood beside Tag, leaning on the railings and gazing out at the district beyond the Victor Village. It was full of life and joy, for now at least.
"So…" Spool began.
"So…" Tag continued.
"Are we gonna have to swap names now?" Spool asked. "They healed up all of my injuries, no scars or anything left, so there's no way they can tell us apart."
"I don't mind swapping. I mean, we're still us no matter what we're called. We're the Nylon brothers to the end," Tag said, smiling. "I just… bro, you tricked them. You scammed the Capitol."
"Don't forget that I got away with it as well," Spool said, smirking smugly. "But what else was I gonna do? Let my brother die? Not happening."
"Thanks Spool," Tag smiles, tears welling up in his eyes. "I owe you my life."
"Are you crying?" Spool asked.
"No way, just dust," Tag lied.
"You're crying," Spool said, shaking his head.
"Am not!" Tag huffed.
"Not too late for me to pretend not to know you," Spool teased.
The twins laughed, fist bumping over the job well done. The Games were won, the Capitol remained in the dark and life would go on. The only issue… Tag's name was out of the reaping bowl and Spool's name remained within.
"If your name comes out… what do we do?" Tag asked. "Should I take your place like you did for me? If it worked once, it could work again."
Spool shook his head. He gave Tag one of his winning smirks, the kind he always put on when he was ever so sure of an idea working out.
"I won the Games once, I can win them again," Spool said, confident as could be. "Just you watch… I mean, if the worst happens."
"You're a legend bro," Tag said, smiling.
The twins became silent, watching the fireworks that filled up the starry night. For a while, all was peaceful. All seemed perfect.
"By the way, mom and dad realised as soon as we got home from the reaping that we swapped places. They knew it was me within an hour," Tag gave Spool a sheepish look. "You're grounded for a month."
"Dammit!" Spool cursed, lightly smacking his hand on the balcony. "Seriously?"
Katniss and Peeta soon finished holding a silence for Spool, or rather 'Tag', and continued their slow walk down the long street hand in hand.
They soon came to the face of another boy imprinted into the sidewalk. He had long, shaggy hair that went past his shoulders, wide eyes that gleamed with life and an almost devilish looking smirk plastered across his face.
Katniss and Peeta exchanged a glance.
"Wasn't he the last victor District Nine ever had?" Katniss asked.
"I think so, yeah," Peeta said, looking particularly unease. "He was the one who tried to drown me… I had to… had to…"
Katniss put a hand upon Peeta's shoulder comfortingly.
"You did what you had to do, not what you wanted to do," Katniss said, gently.
"Yeah… thanks," Peeta took a deep breath. "Of all victors for me to end up killing first… I never thought it'd be Tabbock the magician."
And there we are, District Eight's third victor! I always found the idea of twins pulling a switch to trick the Capitol as a novel sort of idea that had potential to it. If they had never known of the twins in any particular detail before the Games, they'd surely fail to recognise if they had the wrong one, right? After all, from a glance twins tend to be rather… identical. I really enjoyed writing Spool and his charismatic way of playing the Games. As Scrooge McDuck would say, fight smarter not harder! District Three may have all the book smarts, but who says Eight doesn't have some street smarts? Hope you guys found Spool's victory fun to read. Stay tuned for more! The tale of the District Nine Male from Catching Fire looms very near.
Stats
District 1: Peridot Gaudy (8th Games), Crystal McCree (14th Games), Bronze Marley (19th Games), Crown Martins (24th Games), Dollar Dettwieller (32nd Games), Mascara Court (41st Games)
District 2: Baron Overwhill (4th Games), Runa Peace (7th Games), Olga Machete (10th Games), Rook Valiant (17th Games), Boulder Atherston (20th Games), Vercingetorix Carnby (25th Games), Dragon Batofel (27th Games), Rhyder Overwhill (39th Games)
District 3: Honorius Perthshire (5th Games), Pi Orbit (22nd Games), Beetee Latier (37th Games)
District 4: Museida Selkirk (3rd Games), Mags Flanagan (11th Games), Tide Luther (23rd Games), Librae Ogilvy (35th Games)
District 5: Shunt Gaspar (12th Games), Isobel Sparks (18th Games), Crimson Flanders (29th Games), Porter Tripp (38th Games)
District 6: Chassis Macalister (31st Games)
District 7: Pliny Aransio (2nd Games), Fir Buzz (9th Games), Jack Tylos (21st Games), Snag Nakamura (34th Games)
District 8: Woof Casino (16th Games), Paige Murphy (30th Games), Spool Nylon (42nd Games)
District 9: Mizar Aldjoy (1st Games), Gwenith Rosebud (13th Games), Teff Withers (28th Games), Laurel Flamsteel (36th Games)
District 10: Stallion March (26th Games), Lammy Phyronix (40th Games)
District 11: Bear Redfoot (15th Games), Seeder Howell (33rd Games)
District 12: Duke Saint-Rose (6th Games)