Tranquila Fenix (Head Gamemaker)
This is it. This is the moment I've been waiting for. The one I've been praying for.
It's the first honest-to-good watchable action since the bloodbath. And it's between two of the most popular tributes in this year's games, no less.
We need ... we need to get this on every screen in Panem. NOW!
"I want every camera in that square focused on this fight!" I scream, my body acting on instinct as a jolt of adrenaline courses through my body and sends my heart racing as the room explodes into action around me.
The next few seconds seem to drag on forever, and I'm not just saying that because I'm terrified that the fight will be over before my staff gets it up on the screen.
That's a big part of it, and I'd be lying if I said it wasn't. But it's not the only thing I'm worried about.
I'm also worried the fight will be short and pointless. Which would honestly be worse than missing it altogether. After all, bad action is worse than no action.
For example, the fight between Bennett, Asuka, Leandra, and Oz was so bad we would have been better off skipping the shit show and broadcasting dead air.
But that's not going to happen here. Not with a tribute as competent as Bellatrix and one as bloodthirsty as Shirley. It's just not possible for the two of them to have a bad fight. Is it?
"Excuse me, ma'am?"
"Yes, Serina?"
"I need your authorization code."
"Why?"
"Because we can't preempt Andromeda's interview with the President without it."
"Oh, of course," I mumble, my heart pounding in my ears as I quickly punch in my code before I have the chance to second-guess myself. "There you go."
"Thank you, ma'am," she says, her voice curt and professional, her face a mask of calm indifference despite the chaos consuming the room around us. "We're ready to cut over on your go."
"Alright," I mumble, my eyes glued to my feet as I stand here and fight back the urge to vomit while my team races to put the finishing touches on our cutover. "Let's do it."
"Yes, ma'am.
"Ok, people. We're live in Five ... Four ... Three ... Two ... One — oh, shit."
"Let me guess," I mumble, my voice low and laced with disgust, my eyes clouded with tears as I force myself to look up from my feet and down at the sea of stunned faces on the floor below me. "It's over. Isn't it?"
She doesn't answer me, but his silence tells me everything I need to know. I knew I shouldn't have gotten my hopes up.
FUCK!
"Who won?"
"Shimmer."
"Of course he did.
"Did Bellatrix at least make him work for it?" I ask, my voice low and weary, my words dripping with exhaustion as I stand here with tears of frustration rolling down my cheeks and fight back the urge to scream.
"That depends," she mumbles. "Do you consider telegraphing your attack before being thrown face-first into a wall and getting one of your pigtails ripped out of your head when Shimmer yanks you back into a choke hold working for it?"
I don't ... I don't know how to respond to that. And I can't believe that Bellatrix could possibly be that stupid.
Seriously? How can an eighteen-year-old legacy tribute possibly be that stupid?!
What the fuck was she thinking?!
I ... I ...
"FUCK!" I scream, my frustration getting the better of me as I slam my fist down on the railing of my perch so hard that I snap clean through the highly polished wood with a thunderous crack.
"What the hell was that?"
"Nothing," I sneer.
"It didn't look like nothing," she whispers, her voice low and commanding, her eyes burning with anger and concern as she grabs me by the arm and tries to lead me off my perch so an avox can fix the railing I destroyed.
"Well, it is," I growl, my voice low and menacing as I rip my arm out of her hand and glare down at the avox until he scurries away with his tail between his legs.
"No, it's not.
"Look, I know you're upset, and the last thing you need is a scolding from one of your underlings. But you have to calm down.
"You're the Head Gamemaker. You need to act like it!"
"And what if I don't want to calm down?"
"What you want is irrelevant, ma'am. You have to do it. We need you to lead."
She's right. I hate to admit it, but she is.
I'm acting like a jackass right now. And that's not helping anyone.
"You're right," I admit bitterly.
"Apollo, are Bellatrix and Cornelia still alive?" I ask, my voice taking on a commanding tone as it knifes through the low, uneasy din resonating off the walls as I stroll down off my perch and into the mass of people on the control room floor.
"They are, ma'am."
"And is the cutaway still primed?"
"It is. But —"
"Alright, go ahead and execute it.
"Octavia. Get a pair of cannons ready.
"Let's see if we can salvage something of value from this shitshow of a morning."
"I don't think that's a good idea, ma'am."
"Why not?" I ask, my eyes fixed on his disgustingly calm and tranquil face as my head throbs in step with the pounding of my heart. God, I really want to break something else right now.
"Because I don't think we want anyone seeing what Shimmer's going to do to them," he mumbles, his eyes glued to the live feed as I dart across the room to see what's going on.
And I'm rewarded with the sight of Shimmer dragging his beaten, bloody, and unconscious former allies into an empty warehouse with a disturbing smile on his lips and a blood-chilling twinkle in his eye.
"What the fuck is he doing?
"Do we have cameras in the logging warehouse, Apollo?"
"A few."
"Get the feed up on the screen."
And he does. And after a few seconds of waiting, we're treated to the sight of Shimmer binding and gagging his former allies before using the logging chains we'd hidden in the warehouse to string them up by their wrists in the middle of the room.
"What the fuck is he doing?" I mumble, my stomach churning as I stand here and watch Shimmer prep his former allies for something terrible.
"What was that, ma'am?"
"Nothing," I lie, my stomach twisting itself into knots as I stand here and stare at Shimmer while he leers at Bellatrix and Cornelia.
"Octavia, are any of the other tributes awake yet?"
"Liz and Pallas are, ma'am."
"Fantastic. Cut us over to them."
"Are you sure? They're not really doing anything."
"I don't care," I mumble, my stomach dropping through the floor as Shimmer uses Bellatrix's sword to cut her tunic to shreds before doing the same with Cornelia's.
"Just cut us over to their feed, and transfer this garbage to Apollo's personal station.
"I don't want it on my fucking screen."
Lizbeth "Liz" Tulle-17 (District 8 Female)
"I wish we could stay like this forever," I whisper, my voice soft and dreamy, my eyes closed tight as I lie here with my head in Pallas's lap.
"Well, why can't we?" she asks, her voice tinged with playful curiosity as she sits here and caresses my cheek softly.
"Because the gamemakers won't let us," I sigh, a disappointed groan slipping past my lips as I reluctantly roll my head out of her lap before forcing myself to open my eyes and sit up. "We haven't done anything since the bloodbath, and you know they're not going to let us get away with that for much longer."
"I suppose you're right," she moans, her voice dripping with disappointment as she quickly pops back to her feet before offering me her hand and pulling me back up to mine. "I hate to admit it, but you are."
"Well, duh," I tease, a mischievous twinkle in my eye as I run my fingers up her arm before wrapping my hand around her elbow and pulling her into a soft, tender little kiss. "I'm always right."
"You keep telling yourself that, Liz," she giggles, her eyes bleeding hunger as she leans in and captures my lips in a deep, needy kiss. "Maybe one day I'll believe it."
"I could make you believe it now if you'd like," I say, my voice deep and needy, my body acting on instinct as I run my hands up her sides to the back of her head before pulling her in and smashing her lips into mine. "Just say the word."
"We've talked about this, Liz," she says, her words coming out in short, ragged little bursts as she fights a losing battle with her more primal needs and desires. "I can't do it. I want to, but I can't.
"Not with the whole world watching."
"I understand," I whisper, my voice thick with playful disappointment as I lean in and place a chaste, playful little kiss on her nose before pulling her head into my chest and wrapping my arms around her. "You don't have to do anything you're not ready to do, Pallas."
"I know," she mumbles, her voice trembling as she wraps her arms around my back, buries her face in my neck, and starts to sob.
And since I don't know what to say to make her feel better, I do the only thing I can think of. I hold her while she cries.
~THIRTY MINUTES LATER~
"I still can't get over how big this place is," she mumbles, her eyes, still red and puffy from crying, lighting up with wonder and awe as we slowly make our way through the cavernous halls of the palace. "It just goes on forever."
I can't help but giggle at that. And not just because seeing Pallas smile gives me butterflies.
That's part of it, as silly as that might seem to the handful of people who actually know me, but it's not the only part.
"What's so funny, Liz?"
"Nothing," I giggle, my voice light and playful as I try and fail to keep the smile on my lips from seeping through into my answer.
"I just can't get over how cute you are."
"You think I'm cute?" she mumbles, the playful excitement and wonder from a few seconds ago draining out of her face as she quickly drops her eyes to the floor to hide just how uncomfortable what I said makes her.
But I do notice. And it takes everything I have not to let Pallas see how much it hurts me that she reacted negatively to what everyone knows is the kind of comment you're supposed to give to your girlfriend.
But I find a way not to let her see my pain.
Because I understand why she reacted that way.
The shit she went through with Garron alone is a good enough reason to react that way. And he's apparently not the only person she's had that issue with.
She hasn't told me the whole story yet, but she's told me enough.
So I get it. I do.
But that doesn't make it any easier for me to deal with.
"I'm sorry, Liz."
"You don't have to apologize to me, Pallas," I say, my voice dropping to a whisper, my hands trembling in step with the pounding of my heart as I reach out and lace my fingers through hers before cupping her cheek with my free hand and gently guiding her face up to mine.
"Look, I know this is new for you. It's new for me too.
"I know I'm not the best at sharing my real feelings. Years of forcing myself to hide who I am to make my parents happy has left me an emotional mess."
"Liz, you're not —"
"Please, Pallas. Just let me finish.
"I've always had to hide who I am, but I don't have to do that with you. I don't have to pretend that I'm someone I'm not. And I don't know how to do that.
"I don't know how to not pretend because I've never had to."
"Liz, I —"
"I'm not trying to compare traumas. I just —"
"Liz," she sighs, her body trembling as she reaches up to cup my cheek before leaning in and capturing my lips in a soft, hesitant little kiss. A kiss unlike any of the dozen or so others we've shared in the past few hours. A kiss that snakes its way into the depths of my heart and sets my soul on fire. A real kiss.
And as I stand here and slowly melt into her arms, I feel the soft tickle of her breath on my ear as she pulls away from our kiss for a second and smiles before whispering, "You talk too much."
Sentri Baroslav-16 (District 9 Male)
This is starting to get ridiculous. I know Leandra is upset about what happened to Oz — and in a perfect world, she would be able to take all the time she needs to work through her emotions and come to terms with killing him just seconds before the sponsor gift that could have saved him arrived.
She would be free to have her emotional breakdown in peace, Dana would be free to baby her all she wants, and I would be free to go about my life as if nothing had ever happened.
But we don't live in a perfect world; we live in this one. And in this world, we're stuck in the Hunger Games.
And this is neither the time nor the place for her to have a complete mental come apart. Especially when it puts my life in danger.
Seriously, I haven't made it this far into the games to get eaten by a mutt or jumped by a career because Leandra needs her personal space to deal with what she did to Oz.
If I was smart, I'd bail now while I have the chance and leave Dana and Leandra to their fates.
But I'm not gonna do that. I can't. Not until I know for sure that Leandra is a lost cause.
And there's only one way for me to figure that out.
"Hey, Dana, can we talk for a second?"
"That depends. What do you want to talk about?"
"You already know the answer to that question, and we both know it."
"Then no, you can't talk to me."
"Why not?"
"Because we have nothing to talk about.
"I already told you she's not ready, Sentri. We need to give her more time."
"We can't do that, Dana. We're out of time, and you know it."
"Of course, I do, Sentri! I'm not stupid.
"Neither is Leandra."
"I didn't say you were," I groan, my voice low and annoyed as I do my best to stay calm.
But it's not working, and we both know it.
"Bullshit."
"I'm serious. I didn't — You know what, I don't want to fight about this. We've got more important things to do, and arguing with you gives me a headache."
"Then maybe you shouldn't do it."
"I'm trying not to," I growl through gritted teeth.
"Well, you're not very good at it. And I'm not continuing this conversation until you apologize for calling me an idiot."
"But I didn't — fine. I'm sorry. Ok?" I growl, my hand clenched in a fist as I bury my teeth into the inside of my cheek to stop myself from coming unglued on her childish ass.
Seriously, why does she have to be such a spoiled little brat about this?!
"Don't apologize to me, Sentri."
"But you just told me to —"
"Save it. I don't care what you have to say.
"But Leandra might."
"Fine," I mumble, my patience hanging by a thread as I let out a long sigh and roll my eyes in annoyance before starting toward Leandra's little hidey-hole so I can apologize for insulting her.
"Where the hell do you think you're going?"
"To talk to Leandra."
"The hell you are."
"What?"
"You heard me. I'm not letting you anywhere near Leandra until you stop acting like a selfish little prick."
"Then how am I supposed to apologize for —"
"You can't. Not until you lose the attitude."
"But I don't have an —"
"Yes, you do.
"And even if you didn't, it wouldn't matter. I still wouldn't let you talk to her, Sentri."
"Why not?!"
"Because I don't have to."
"Fine; then you go talk to her!"
"I will," she coos, a triumphant little smirk on her face as she rolls her eyes at me before heading off to check on Leandra.
"Thank you, Dana!
"Fuck you, Sentri!"
"What a bitch," I mumble, my words falling on deaf ears as I throw my hands up in frustration before plopping down on the little rock on the far side of the square as Dana disappears into the darkened confines of the one-room shack Leandra's been sulking in.
I'm not expecting much from this. Leandra has been acting like a baby for the better part of a day now, and Dana — the spoiled little brat — is in no hurry to make her snap out of it.
And since I'm apparently forbidden to talk to my ally, I have to accept that. I don't want to, but I don't have a choice.
Not yet, at least.
~FORTY-FIVE MINUTES LATER~
"Finally. You guys were in there forever. What the heck took you so long?!"
"None of your business," growls Dana, her voice hard and angry despite the puffy red circles under her bloodshot eyes.
Has she been crying?
"Dana, don't be rude," mumbles Leandra, her cheeks wet with tears, her face and eyes just as red and puffy as Dana's. "It's not his fault."
"The hell it's not. All he had to do was —"
"That's enough, Dana."
"But —"
"But nothing," she groans, the sadness draining from her face as she turns towards Dana and grabs her by the hand as I stand here and try to make sense of things.
"Look, I know you're trying to help, but this isn't the way."
"But it's the only way I can help you."
"I know that, Dana. And I know you're trying your hardest here, but I need you to remember what we talked about. You promised me."
"I know that. But —"
"No butts. Just do it. Ok?"
"Fine."
"Will someone please tell me what's going on?" I ask, my eyes glued to Leandra's face expectantly, my voice tinged with annoyed confusion.
"It's nothing, Sentri," she coos, her voice soft and sad with just a hint of defensiveness as she turns towards Dana with a gentle little smile on her lips and a dusting of tears sparkling in her eyes. "It's just ... it's just sister stuff. Right, Dana?"
"Right," she says, the disappointed glint in her eyes making it painfully obvious that she wants to push this but isn't willing to cross Leandra to do it.
And neither am I. Not yet, at least.
Sarah Beth Fullberg-17 (District 10 Female)
"Are you sure this is a good idea?" I ask, my voice low and tired, my eyes heavy and glued to my feet as I stand here and fidget with my my new stun baton. "Wouldn't it make more sense to stop for the night and make camp and then continue our hunt in the morning?"
"No, it wouldn't," growls Alfonso, his voice low and condescending as he lets out a small sigh before pushing himself back to his feet with an annoyed huff.
"Why not?"
"Because we're careers, SB. And it's time for us to start acting like it."
"What does being a career have to do with wandering around in the dark like morons?" I ask, genuinely confused as to why being a career means we should go wander around in the dark looking for trouble.
And I know I'm not the only one in our group who feels that way. Both Helena and Ariadne have to have issues with Alfonso's plan. Why else would he be trying so hard to get me to change my mind?
He has to have convinced himself that if he can talk me into going along with his plan, we'll be able to team up and talk Helena and Ariadne into it too.
And to be honest, it's not like it's bad a plan. It's just not gonna work.
"We wouldn't be wandering around in the dark like morons; we'd be hunting the other tributes. And that has everything to do with being a career, SB.
"You would understand that if you were a real one."
"She is a real career, Alfonso," says Helena, her voice clipped and curt, her left hand resting lazily on the hilt of her machete, her right hand trembling as she walks towards us with a passive look plastered on her perfect face.
"That's not the way I see it."
"Then it's a good thing no one asked you. Isn't it?" coos Ariadne, her voice calm and clear with just a hint of smugness as it knifes its way effortlessly through the humid early evening air. "And for the record, SB's a real career because we say she is.
"She's also the only one of us with a kill. Remember?"
"Don't remind me," he mumbles, his words giving life to my thoughts as I glance back down at the child killing weapon clenched tightly in my hands and choke back the urge to throw up. "I'm never gonna be able to live that down."
"Live what down?" asks Ariadne, her voice dripping with smug satisfaction that couldn't be more at odds with the playful smile on her face if it tried. "The fact that we're three days into the games, and you still don't have a kill? Or that you tried to flex on SB and got put in your place because she has a kill and you don't?"
"Both. And why are you ganging up on me?"
"Because you opened your mouth and a wave of stupid came tumbling out of it."
"That's ok, Ariadne," I whisper, my composure slowly returning as I force myself to think about Viv instead of what I did to Shirley. Killing him saved her life, and I have to remember that. Or, at least it was supposed to. "He didn't offend me."
"Well, he offended me."
"Everyone offends you. That's not Alfonso's fault."
"Whose side are you on, Helena?!"
"In this particular instance, I'm on his side. Because — and I can't believe I'm saying this — he's right."
"Excuse me?!" we say in unison. Our words hang thick in the air as we turn to stare at Helena like she's lost her mind while she stands there and stares back with a blank look plastered on her face.
"Please don't make me say it again," she jokes, a disgusted look creeping across her face as she lets out a dramatic little sigh. "I won't be able to keep my dinner down if you do."
Did ... did Helena just tell a joke? Like, an actual joke? Seriously?!
Her agreeing with Alfonso was surprising enough, but then she went and told a joke on top of that.
I don't ... I don't know what to say. But I do like this side of Helena.
"That's not funny, Helena."
"It's not supposed to be, Ariadne," she says, her voice curt and clipped with just a hint of discomfort as she stands there and squirms for half a second while trying to decide how to explain this to us.
"Look, I know Alfonso's reasons for wanting to do this are shallow and selfish, but that doesn't mean he's wrong.
"We haven't been acting like careers, and it's only a matter of time before the gamemakers decide to correct that. And I don't know about you guys, but I'd much rather do that on my terms instead of theirs."
"She's right, Ariadne," I mumble, my voice cracking for a fraction of a second in the beginning as I pour every ounce of confidence and strength I can muster into what I'm saying. "I wish she wasn't, but she is.
"We're gonna have to do this sooner or later. So let's just do it now and get it over with."
"Fine," she growls reluctantly. "I don't like this. But if everyone else does, I won't stand in the way. I'll grab my stuff."
A/N: Hello all, and welcome back to Echoes of the Future! It's been a little while since I've been able to update — who knew having a full time job and newborn twins could be so time consuming — but I hope the wait was worth it. This is also a small early birthday gift to myself, so I hope you all enjoy it!