A/N
We are back to our trip to the Capitol, and I apologise for the unannounced delay. Life is very busy right now, but I'm trying my best to write when I can! That being said, I had been greatly looking forward to this chapter and it was so much fun to write. I hope you have your best outfit on because it's party time! (that sounds far more embarrassing read out loud)
Olivette 'Livvy' Beauchêne, 16, District Seven Female
"That little girl in the olive tree, bet she's got no family."
"Someone ought to take her in. Poor little tree spirit. Olivette."
Livvy had moved far from the little girl hiding in the branches of the olive tree, her bare grubby toes brushing against the knotted bark and her lips mindlessly closed around a piece of candy she had scored from the clumsy droppings of a richer child. She was almost a woman now, forced towards maturity sooner than she should have, but no sooner than she had needed. The deep emerald dress that clung to her tall, slender figure made her seem even older than her modest sixteen years –perhaps a glimpse into the future. A future she may not live to see.
Sighing to herself, Livvy tucked a strand of hair behind her ears, debating whether to scrub off the makeup that had been applied to her virgin skin. It was unnerving how even handful of cosmetic products could change someone's appearance so much that they became almost unrecognisable. Livvy did not wish to disguise herself, nor did she wish to forget who she really was. She was Olivette; the little girl in the olive tree. She was also Livvy; the girl in the toyshop.
Who would she be when she stepped off the platform? And who would she be when it was over; whatever her ending was?
"Oh."
Livvy turned around, hearing Cameron's quiet gasp behind her.
"What is it?" asked Livvy, tugging at the material that gripped her hips. "I look silly, don't I? All this –it's too much."
Cameron shook his head, his hands thrust into the pockets of his smart trousers. "No, y-you actually look really nice."
Livvy felt her cheeks blush beneath the shimmery powder that sat upon them.
"I'd much rather be in my own clothes without this silly rubbish on my face," she confessed. "But thank you. You look really nice too."
Cameron's eyes widened as he shuffled on his feet. "Oh erm…"
"Come on then," Livvy strode forwards, linking her arm around Cameron's, which was a little awkward due to the height difference between them, but not something Livvy paid much attention to. "We'd better get to this party and pretend that every bit of fancy food tastes like poo!"
That earned a laugh from Cameron, whose tense body seemed to relax a little as they walked together, though soon became rigid again as they broke from the safety of their own little bubble in the District Seven apartment.
They were taken in a small vehicle through the streets of the Capitol, seemingly towards the river where they had experienced the anxieties of the tribute parade barely an hour or two earlier. The city was still busy; the air almost electrified as Livvy and Cameron followed behind their escort.
The building that hosted the welcome party was unlike anything Livvy had seen before. A narrow base held a large, circular glass sphere, which glowed in a multitude of colours that reflected off the surface of the river below. The Glass Ballroom, it was called, according to their insightful escort; supposedly one of the most exclusive venues in the Capitol.
The Capitol really were showing the tributes what life was like outside of the Districts and what their lives could be if they played by their rules and killed enough people to reach it. The excessive wealth that oozed from every inch of the place made Livvy sick to her stomach, as she thought about all the starving families in both her own District and the others in Panem. Just one meal to a Capitolite would feed a whole family for a month, it seemed, and yet that thought didn't appear to have even crossed the minds of those who walked the city beneath their elaborate clothing.
"Cameron Alcatraz and Olivette Beauchêne, District Seven," an older looking man greeted them at the entrance to the party. "Welcome to the Glass Ballroom. Please enjoy the celebrations."
Cameron opened his mouth to mumble a polite response, but Livvy kept her lips firmly sealed as she refused to appear grateful for the situation she found herself in. No matter what luxuries the Capitol threw at her, it would never be enough to disregard the cruelty that lay ahead.
With their arms still looped together, Livvy and Cameron made their way further into the ballroom. The music held a strong beat, vibrations echoing beneath Livvy's ribs as her eyes wandered around the elegantly decorated room. She could tell why they called it the Glass Ballroom, and not simply because it was sat within a circular sphere built from glass; everything in the building appeared to be crafted from glass. The floor was glass, the tables and chairs were glass; even the most intricate decorations seemed to be carefully carved from the opaque material. It made Livvy glad that she wasn't particularly clumsy, though a passing thought worried for Cameron as he seemed unsure of his footing beside her.
Livvy could sense Cameron's anxieties increasing as the sight of several other tributes came into view. Having watched the Reapings on the train, Livvy instantly recognised the pairs from One and Two, who were engaged in a casual conversation. The two from One were dressed in a matching ensemble of pale pink; the girl with teases of her smooth skin on show between the daring cuts in her dress, and the boy looking charmingly elegant in a ruffled shirt with flowing sleeves. The pair from Two were almost stark opposites; both their clothes and their attitudes many shades darker. The girl from Two had her arms folded across her chest, an unamused expression on her face as the other female chatted away with enthusiasm. Her male counterpart, whose shorter sleeved shirt revealed an abundance of tattoos that covered his pale skin, seemed incredibly serious as his eyes took in the other Careers in front of him.
Even without weapons in their hands, the Careers aired a threatening aura, and Livvy felt herself begin to dread the days ahead even more.
But Livvy was not one to succumb to fears so easily, and even in the darkest of places, one could always find some light.
"Hey, why don't we get something to eat?" Livvy suggested as a distraction, spotting a large tower of cupcakes nearby.
Cameron agreed, nodding as his eyes darted from side to side, taking in as many details as he could in such little time.
Beside the tower, Livvy reached out and took two cakes, handing one to Cameron. She refused to be grateful for the treats bestowed upon her, but that didn't mean that she wouldn't at least enjoy tasting something sweet.
Sinking her teeth through the fluffy, whipped buttercream and moist but light sponge, Livvy felt a ripple of pleasure dancing on her tongue as she savoured the unique flavour. It was far sweeter than the cookies Cameron had baked for her once, perhaps a little too sweet. But sugar wasn't often something Livvy got to taste, and even if it was somewhat of a bribe she still enjoyed every mouthful.
"Oh, you have a little something on your, erm, your cheek there," Cameron pointed out shyly.
"Oops," Livvy giggled, making a swipe at her cheek. "Is it gone?"
"No, not quite," replied Cameron, reaching out a hesitant hand. Livvy stood still, allowing him to brush the small speck of cream from her face. When his hands brushed across her skin she could feel a clamminess in them, as though his body was soaked with nerves.
"Hey, you ok?" she asked with light concern.
Cameron bit his lip, looking around at the other tributes scattered around the ballroom.
"Ignore them," Livvy told him. "They can't do anything to you here; we're safe."
The adam's apple at the front of Cameron's neck moved as he swallowed. It seemed that cake and words of encouragement wouldn't be enough to settle his nerves, and then feeling a ripple of anxiety in her own stomach, Livvy realised that they may not be enough for hers either.
Looking around the room, Livvy's eyes searched across the scattered bodies of tributes and those of the performers that were displaying various talents in a gest of entertainment. A short distance away she noticed a raised area, where a flash of red caught her eye. It was one of the tributes, and her bright hair swished in a high ponytail behind her as she swung her body around. She was dancing, Livvy quickly realised, her hips wiggling in time to the upbeat music as she moved across the dancefloor. There seemed to be nobody else around her, except a boy with curled hair who she seemed to be beckoning to join her.
Livvy's memory remained fairly sharp, and she soon recalled that the redheaded girl was from Five, and the boy was her District partner. Their names she couldn't quite remember yet, but the two of them appeared far less intimidating than that of the Careers or a handful of other tributes Livvy's eyes had caught.
"Hey, come on," Livvy grabbed Cameron's hand without warning, pulling him towards the dancefloor. His eyes grew wide with fear as he stepped onto the glittering floor, the grip on Livvy's hand tightening.
"W-what are we doing?" he whispered to Livvy as they passed the dancing girl from Five.
"We're going to dance," Livvy told him, taking his other hand.
"Dance?" Cameron seemed visibly horrified. "I can't dance."
Livvy shook her head, laughing. "Everyone can dance. Here, just follow my steps."
She stepped from side to side in time with the beat, watching as Cameron stepped with her, just a half second off the beat. He glanced nervously around them.
"Don't look at them," said Livvy, squeezing his hands. "Look at me. Pretend it's just us."
Cameron seemed sceptical at first, but as he tried to keep his eyes focussed on Livvy, she felt his grip begin to relax and his chest steady. It wasn't long before he began to find his own rhythm, moving his body, still somewhat awkwardly, along with Livvy.
After a while, even to Livvy it felt as though it was just the two of them enjoying the music and each other's company.
They were two friends, at a party, and they were having fun. If only that was all there was to it.
Accel Hayes, 18, District Six Male
Contains minor sexual references.
Accel could see his reflection in the glass; his eyes, the same colour as the liquid it held, felt lost in the amber sea of regret. Holding it between his thumb and index finger, Accel contemplated how something as simple as a drink had signed along the dotted line of his own death warrant.
He didn't wish to drink the alcohol that he had ordered at the glass bar. He could still taste the bitterness of the whiskey at the back of his throat from the morning of the Reaping, no matter how many cream cakes and flavoured teas he had consumed since arriving in the Capitol. But even if he could mask the taste, or remove it forever, he would still be left facing the consequences, and he knew there was no hiding from that. The best he could do now was try to make a bad situation a little less bad.
Though there remained a wisp of doubt in the back of his mind; the demon that had pitched its tent in the darkest depths of his sub-conscious was lighting its campfire. If Accel was going to die anyway, why not enjoy life's few pleasures whilst he could?
Bringing the drink towards his lips, Accel pressed the cold surface to his mouth, seeing his breath fog up the glass. The smell was enticing, yet it also sickened him. He despised it, and yet he craved it so.
"Now there's a conundrum if I ever saw one," an animated voice startled him.
Placing the glass on the top of the bar, Accel spun around on the stool to see another tribute leaning against the bar, the hot pink sparkles of their blazer catching the clear glass around them, which threw pink rays in a scattered array across the party.
"Ah, sobriety," the extravagantly dressed tribute, who appeared in many ways like a Capitolite themselves, held a hand against their chest. "An enemy if I ever had one."
Accel swallowed through his dry throat. "Do you –erm, did you, have a problem with alcohol too?"
The tribute looked as though Accel had just smacked them in the face.
"Oh, I'm sorry if I offended you…" Accel began to apologise.
"You did in fact offend my fine self. I would never associate with something as standard as alcohol! Give me some credit, you insolent fool," exclaimed the peculiar tribute, before snapping their fingers. "On your knees, peasant! Grovel for my forgiveness!"
Accel was stunned at the request, but the whole situation appeared rather humorous to him, so he decided to play along. After all, his performance at the reapings required a lot of making up and if he could gain favour with an odd few tributes then that would be something, right?
"Oh, your graciousness," Accel fell to his knees. "I beg for your forgiveness, oh kind and generous one."
The tribute pondered, their finger tapping on their lip before they shrugged.
"Well ok then, but whilst you're down there you might as well blow me."
Gasping, Accel immediately flung himself backwards and away from the glittery crotch, smacking his head against one of the stools with a painful thud.
"Fuck," he mumbled under his breath, rubbing the back of his head where he was certain he'd develop another bruise to match the rest of the ones on his body that he had gained from his drunken fall at the reapings.
As he struggled to find his feet, Accel felt a delicate hand resting on his arm. "Here, let me help you."
Looking beside him, Accel felt his lips part as his eyes drank in the sight of the girl who had come to aid him. Her skin, like a rich honey, glistened in the party lights; tickled by the gentle waves of dark hair that lay against it. Her eyes were darker than anything Accel had seen before, as though he could wander within their gaze for an eternity, slowly getting further away from himself until he became fully absorbed by her. In that moment he wanted to be absorbed by her, and he found himself allowing the unnamed beauty to help him to his feet as though he had lost all control of his own limbs.
"Th-thank you," Accel stumbled over his words, hoping that the girl's touch would never leave his skin. "I'm Accel, and you are…?"
"Interrupting my speech!" exclaimed the provocative tribute who had just moments ago made an indecent proposal to Accel. "Ahem, step aside, Miss, you are getting in the way of our moment."
"Oh yes, it certainly looked like a moment," commented the girl, with a sly smirk that sent heatwaves through Accel's body. "A bit of a god complex, I see."
The brightly dressed tribute rolled their eyes. "I can see why you would look at me and believe me to be a god. But I assure you, sugar muffin, I am but a mere mortal, made from the most supple and tender flesh one could ever taste."
The girl raised an eyebrow.
"Want a taste?" they closed the gap between the two of them.
"I think I'll stick to drinking, thank you," the girl smoothly avoided contact, delicately swiping up Accel's drink and pouring it down her throat with one simple gulp.
The other tribute tutted with disappointment. "Alcohol is so dull. You want to party? I can show you a real party."
Accel's eyes widened with curiosity as he watched them reach into their blazer and retrieve a small bag of coloured pills. Seeming very pleased with themselves, they dropped a few pills onto the palm of their hand and held them out in offering.
When the girl did not appear to refuse the offer, Accel decided to step forward, reaching out and closing the hand of the tribute.
"We're good, thanks," he said with a quick smile. "But you know who needs to loosen up a little? That guy over there, loitering in the corner. See, the one with the long hair and the evil-looking stare?"
The tribute squinted their eyes in the direction Accel was gesturing to.
"You're right," they agreed, which took Accel by surprise. "He does look awfully depressing. So I shall leave you be –but please, do drop by my apartment later tonight –I'm on the fourth apartment from the top. We can finish off what we started."
Leaving Accel in silence, the tribute sauntered off on their mission to deal drugs, quickly becoming distracted along the way by a tall, skinny girl who very closely resembled them in appearance.
"So, are you?"
Accel looked back to the bar where the girl had slid herself onto a barstool, an elbow resting casually against the bar as her fingers twirled a strand of curled hair.
"Am I what?" he asked, taking the seat beside her.
"Going to drop by their apartment later?" she asked with a devilish grin.
Accel snorted with humour. "Absolutely not!"
"That is good to know," commented the girl with a casual flippancy as she beckoned over the bartender.
"It is?" queried Accel, shaking his head when the bartender asked if he wished for a cocktail as well.
The girl simply nodded, accepting her cocktail graciously, holding the glass so perfectly between her fingers as if it were made to fit.
Ninety percent sure the girl was flirting with him, Accel leant a little closer towards her.
"Why exactly is me not going to their apartment a good thing for you?" he placed his best smoulder onto his face.
"Well," the girl matched his movement, so close that he could easily smell the fresh fragrance that was soaked into her skin. "If you were in their apartment that would mean that you wouldn't be in mine."
Accel felt his heartrate triple.
"Would you…" Accel lowered his voice, "like me to be in your apartment tonight?"
He felt a bare leg brushing against the side of his trousers.
"How ungentlemanly of you," she teased. "Inviting yourself around to a girl's apartment just minutes after you've met her, before even asking her name or buying her a drink. Were you raised in a barn?"
"Well, uh, I'm actually from Six so we don't have any barns," Accel ran a hand through his tousled hair. "We have lots of garages though?"
The girl tossed her hair back, releasing a gentle chuckle.
"You're funny, Accel Hayes."
"You know my name?" Accel seemed surprised.
"Well, after the way you announced yourself at the reapings, how could I not?"
Accel felt himself retreat into regurgitated embarrassment.
"I'm mortified by that," Accel admitted. "I can't bring myself to re-watch it in case I just decide to kill myself before we even reach the arena."
"Well that would be a waste," said the girl, sipping on her cocktail with pouted lips.
"If you say so," Accel laughed dryly. "Oh shit, yeah, you forgot to tell me your name."
The girl smiled. "It's Anise."
"Lovely to meet you, Anise," Accel held out his hand.
Anise swatted his offering aside, rolling her eyes. "Just because I told you my name, doesn't mean you have to suddenly become so polite and boring. Where did that presumptuous boy who invited himself to my apartment disappear to?"
"Oh him?" Accel leant against the bar with a roguish grin. "He prefers to conduct his business out of the spotlight and away from other wandering eyes."
He felt an eager hand resting on top of his. "Let's go find him then."
For the second time that night, Accel allowed himself to be guided by Anise, this time moving away from the bar and towards the edges of the ballroom. They skirted past a handful of other tributes, Anise directing them as though she had been in the building before. Accel of course did not question her navigation skills, simply following her as she took them away from the party and into a large bathroom, where she promptly locked the door behind them.
"Now I'm the kind of girl who doesn't bring boys home with me on the first date," Anise pressed her body against Accel's, his back pinned against the bathroom door as he swallowed with both nervousness and excitement.
"But…" Anise's fingers danced across Accel's chest. "This technically isn't home, is it?"
"Technically not…" Accel's voice was faint as he tried to process what was happening. In such little time he had gone from contemplating his life's regrets to being affectionately touched by the most beautiful girl he had ever seen in the fanciest bathroom he had ever been in.
Perhaps volunteering for the Games had its perks after all.
Valak Vatican, 18, District Ten Male
"Are you sorry for what you have done, Valak?"
Valak shook his head, his eyes dropping to his feet to avoid the disappointed expression that he knew hung on his mother's face.
"You nearly killed someone, Valak!"
"But you…" his fingers knotted together, crunching his knuckles as though they were paper. "You taught me how to fight."
"We taught you how to defend yourself!" his mother retorted. "Your hands belong to God; how dare you use them in vain?"
"I…" the anger inside Valak hung back, desperately fizzing at the tip of his tongue. He wanted to shout, wanted to scream. He wanted to summon the courage to stand up for himself, but all he could manage was a meek response. "I won't do it again, mother."
"No, you won't."
Valak stared down at his hands. His skin was fractured, scars running through it like cracks in a weathered pavement. Each scar spoke a different story, but each story featured a similar plot. Anger, greed, power. In a dark genre, his life was set. And the pages kept on turning.
Your hands belong to God.
That was a lie; Valak's hands belonged only to himself. They did his own bidding, not the bidding of a false pretence created to force subjugation. He was done with God, as God was done with him. The two of them were mutually exclusive.
Are you sorry for what you have done?
Valak was only sorry for what he hadn't done.
Drawing in a slow breath, Valak cracked his knuckles, his eyes strolling curiously around the ballroom. The party had been rather uneventful so far; the most dramatic event to have occurred seemed to have been the drunken boy from Six scrambling to his knees before one of the Careers, then being swept away by the wealthy girl from Eleven more than likely to engage in heated activities.
The majority of the tributes seemed to be wary of their first night in the Capitol; many of them sticking in pairs and avoiding close contact with others. An expected reaction, Valak supposed; the real fun would begin in the morning when training commenced. That would be when the competition could really be assessed; for now it was simply a shallow glimpse.
Valak himself had paid little attention to Lunete Vinter, the girl who had been reaped from his own District before he had volunteered. His first impressions of the girl screamed 'lamb to slaughter' and he believed her not to possess any potential use to serve him other than as dead weight he could toss in the way of an enemy. Lunete seemed afraid of him anyway, seeming to keep as much distance between them as possible; her wide eyes always alert as though she expected him to kill her before they even reached the arena. Whilst Valak would feel no remorse for taking the life of the nervous girl, he had no desire to quench his thirst prematurely. As with a fine wine, the taste and quality came with time.
But as Valak's eyes drifted from tribute to tribute, they continued to settle on the same dainty figure time and time again.
She smiled politely as she accepted a drink from a bartender, screwing her nose up in displeasure at the taste but continuing to graciously sip from the glass even so. She nodded with honesty as she listened to the words of her district partner, though his words seemed few and far between. With each step she took, she seemed glide across the floor as though she were weightless; her limbs lifted with a grace of almost royalty.
Where Valak was darkness, she was light.
Turning his head to follow her steps, his view was suddenly blocked by another. Dressed in a garment the colour of blood, an unfamiliar girl held two drinks in her hands, one of which she lifted towards Valak.
"You seem like you could do with a drink," she assumed, and Valak found himself accepting the offer. "Angora Winchester, Eight. A penny for your thoughts?"
"Not even the wealth of the Capitol could afford what is inside my head," Valak said, in both truth and somewhat in warning. He took a large gulp of the alcoholic beverage, unaffected by the burning sensation that ran down his throat.
"I can imagine so," said Angora, stepping closer to Valak so that her bare shoulder brushed against his arm. "I would be fascinated to know what happens in the mind of a volunteer from District Ten."
"I can imagine so," Valak imitated her words, his focus remaining on the girl from across the room, who was standing a short distance away from the dancefloor, watching as two pairs of tributes danced like the teenagers they were.
Beside him, Angora continued to speak words, but Valak paid her little attention as he found his feet shifting beneath him.
Abandoning the girl from Eight, Valak moved across the room, placing his glass down without a care; his curiosity having taken control. In his mindlessness, he crashed into a boy a few inches taller than him, with striking brown eyes and pristinely styled hair. The boy swore at him, but Valak ignored it, having no time or desire to engage in petty squabbles.
The girl remained at the side of the dancefloor, just a few steps within reach as Valak strode towards her. But as he opened his mouth to speak, she took the hand of a spirited girl with red hair, who pulled her into a bouncing jig alongside her and a boy of a similar age.
Valak immediately halted.
Looking towards the dancefloor, he watched the girl as she span in circles, a ribbon of gentle laughter escaping her lips, which wove through the humid air and caressed Valak's ears.
He froze.
"Wow, look at the butterfly!" she exclaimed with glee, her childish fingers pointing towards the winged creature that had landed on the cracked windowsill.
"Should we pull its wings off?" Valak suggested wickedly.
"Don't be silly," she giggled, shaking her head towards him. "It wouldn't be able to fly without them. Then it would only be a butter, and not a butterfly!"
That laugh; it was faint, yet so familiar…
Valak took a step backwards, feeling something crashing into his back. Startled, he pushed himself away from the small glass table, retreating away from the dancefloor as his mind began to flood with memories he thought he had long forgotten.
"Look what I made," she announced with pride, holding up a necklace made by looping daisies together. "It's for you."
Valak took the circlet of flowers, the pollen brushing off onto his hands and smearing a bold yellow across his broken skin. In response, Valak screwed up his nose and tore the necklace apart, dropping the daisies onto the floor where he began to crush them into the ground beneath his shoes.
He felt a sudden sting across his face as the matron's palm collided with his cheek.
"Valak! Must you destroy everything? Why can't you be gentle, like your sister?"
His sister.
Valak felt a burning in the back of his throat as his dry eyes stared towards the girl in the middle of the dancefloor.
Our female tribute for District Nine is Cathedrite Zhuang.
Cathedrite Zhuang. Cathedrite Vatican. Cathy.
The room spun.
"Cathy, my dear, come along to my office," spoke the wretched voice of the matron. "I have two people who would like to meet you."
Cathy looked towards Valak with excitement, her fingers wriggling in between his own.
"Have we got a new mummy and daddy?" asked Cathy, her angelic face basking in joy.
The matron nodded, her expression darkening as her gaze moved towards Valak.
"You have, little Cathy," she explained. "But they only have room for one and they couldn't resist when I told them how lovely you were."
Valak's heart sank.
"What about me?" he asked, looking up at the tall structure of the forbidding woman.
Bending down to his childish height, the matron lowered her voice.
"No one will ever want you. You're too close to the devil."
Valak had been drawn to the girl from Nine since the moment he had watched her reaping from the train. There had been something almost magnetic about her; something that Valak was unable to ignore. Every time he looked to focus on something else, his mind went back to her. He had not known why until now.
Cathy was his sister; his twin, in fact.
Valak had always known he'd had a twin. They had been young when they had been taken to the orphanage in Nine, too young to remember their real parents and too young to really remember each other. Valak had been adopted some years later, and his new parents had told him that he'd had a sister who had been adopted barely weeks into arriving at the orphanage. They knew of her first name and not of her whereabouts, but Valak had never really cared. What was the point in talking about a sister he could barely remember, who could be anywhere in the world as he was taken along to District Ten by a couple who wished to settle their roots in a new location?
His sister had played no part in his life as he grew up, and his mind had long sewn over any memories he may have had.
Until the thread had come loose right before his eyes.
Not just memories seeped from the tear in his mind, but also seeped feelings of hatred. Cathy was always the golden child, crafted from goodness and light. She had been gifted with so much light that there had been none left to spare for Valak, and so he had been born and swaddled in darkness.
It was her fault that he had become the monster he was. And he would not allow her to distract him from seeking the power he had craved when he had volunteered for the Games.
Cathedrite Zhuang was just another tribute, a body in the way of his victory. He would cut her down like he would cut down the rest of them. He was Valak Vatican, his hands belonged to himself, and he would not be sorry for what he was about to do.
A/N
Three rather different, but fun, POVs there to think about. I'd love to know your thoughts!
Livvy and Cameron seem to be sticking together, as we suspected after Cameron's POV during the train ride. Livvy is still desperate to remain herself, and in her efforts is continuing to help others when she can. Will she be able to keep hold of herself, or will the arena seek to change her? Will her alliance with Cameron prove strong, and can she hold the both of them up alone?
Accel is coming to terms with his actions, and whilst he is regretful, he knows he has a lot to make up for. After a bizarre encounter with Cephus, he is rescued by Anise, who we last saw lashing out towards Logan. What are her motives? Will getting close to the Capitolite singer prove valuable to Accel, and will he be able to show his worth after his previous drunken actions?
Valak's existential crisis appears to only be worsening. We discover that he volunteered in order to quell the hunger for power he possesses, but he too makes a discovery. In a perhaps surprising turn of events (or unsurprising if anyone had any inkling beforehand!) he realises that Cathy may in fact be his twin sister he was separated from at a young age. Will Valak succeed in cutting Cathy down like any other tribute? Is Cathy aware of who he is? And what are Angora's intentions?
Thank you to you all for your continued patience and support! I'm enjoying pregames so much already and there is so much more to come that I'm very excited about! We will be jumping into training next, with three chapters dedicated to it! Expect a lot more interaction and alliances forming! Any predictions so far?
As for the poll results, I shall be closing the poll now and releasing the results in the next chapter so keep an eye out! I also hope to update the blog this week, so watch this space...
Until next time!
Firefly