Train Rides

Everette Hastings (18) D1M

One thing that both impressed and surprised Everette Hastings was the energy that Ivory Borg seemed to give off.

It wasn't the vibe a regular Career tended to have, no it was soft but powerful. It was an aura that did not try to intimidate but tried to attract. It was friendly, contrary to the common hostility Careers radiated. Everette was only upset that she was too young to actually have a chance in the arena. And if she did have a chance, it would mean that it would be more probable that he would lose, which was again not a good thought. He kind of wished Ivory was mean, simply so that he could despise her. It would be easier to kill her then, but he had already taken a liking to the younger girl.

Ivory was sitting cross legged on the purple velvet carpet that was laid on the train of the floor. The train was about to start, but she had already expressed her delight at the many paintings and the design of the interior of the train. In a normal situation, Everette wouldn't notice, but even as she described the scene in those paintings, he found himself looking at it very differently. There was a particular piece of Art, in which a hunter had shot a deer. But when Ivory presented her views on it, Everette wondered whether the hunter saw what he saw: the tiger hiding in the bushes. Would the hunter be able to escape? Could he kill it? The hunter appeared to be ridiculously close to the deer and Everette saw no evidence of his skill.

"The tiger will eat him up," Ivory declared aloud, throwing her head back with a big grin.

"I feel so too," Everette said, sliding down next to her in a cross-legged position as well. He felt weird sitting on the floor despite the availability of extremely comfortable seats, but he also felt weird sitting on the chair while the girl was on the floor.

"Exactly! I mean, look at that guy! Look at how close he is to his prey! That kind of archery will doom him."

"Indeed."

Looking at his District Partner, Everette wondered what could have forced her to volunteer for a death match. She didn't look as prepared as most girls did. In fact, her behaviour was more childish than she could afford to have at a time like this. Her imaginative power also implied that she was somebody who simply loved life and Art and Literature. He wondered if she had a story like his. Could she be here for redemption too? Was she here for respect? It could be possible.

Just as he had started to relax on the comfortable carpet, Ivory got up. Turning around, she looked down at his handsome face and beamed, her eyes twinkling. Everette had enough experience to know what a smile indicated, but he was a man. And men usually are left in the dark by imaginative and strong women. So he continued to look at her, hoping for some kind of enlightenment, but the young girl, with a spring in her step, almost skipped to the nearby table and brought with her a bowl of sweets.

Just as dramatically as she had gotten to her feet, she plopped down on the carpet.

"Ta-da!" she said with a laugh, "I've heard they've got good sweets! But I won't know until I try out, right?"

And with that, as Everette watched as one does when observing some worldly secrets, Ivory pop sweet after sweet in her mouth, her eyes closed as she simply relished the unique taste of the Capitol delicacy. Her head seemed to wobble a bit as she ate, a 'mhmm' sound vibrating continuously as she continued on this arduous task. It was maybe after five minutes that she opened her eyes suddenly.

"What happened?" Everette asked, secretly glad that she was out of her sweet-eating stupor. It was, after all, a pain to watch someone else eating delicious food that you yourself want to try out.

"I'm sorry mate! I forgot to ask you! Come on man Everette, don't be shy! Have some!"

Everette laughed as he saw the startled look on his District Partner's pretty face. Shaking his head, he said, "Thanks Ivory, but I'm fine."

Which was a lie. Those sweets looked incredibly appetising… What if he was a Career? They had tongues too. Not that he'd show that side. He was here for a purpose. He couldn't be soft. But then, could friendly interaction be called softness?

"Come on Everette! I bet you, you haven't tried something like this before! Especially this yellow one. It's yum."

He laughed lightly again, before thanking her and taking the yellow sweet that she was pointing at. It was circular in shape with a hue of banana. On touching it, it gave the most spongy feeling that he could relate with sweets. After looking at it critically for a few seconds, with Ivory watching him impatiently, he popped it in his mouth.

She was right.

A strange mix of flavours exploded in his mouth as the juice filled up. It was fruity in taste, and he could taste banana, watermelon, oranges and some other fruits he knew nothing about. Along with that there was a very slight chocolatey taste that just made it even more unique. He did not want to swallow it, and soon he had his eyes shut too, enjoying the flavours.

Once he had finished with it, he looked at Ivory, who was watching him eagerly, possibly waiting for some kind of reaction.

Everette cleared his throat.

"Well, the train will start in some time," he said, trying to keep his face blank, "And we'll definitely not be eating immediately."

"True. I don't see our mentors and escort needing these."

"Yeah," Everette said, "They're health conscious anyway. These will go to waste."

"We can't afford that," Ivory added solemnly.

The two looked at each other for a second, and after that, within five minutes, the bowl was completely empty.

Ari Bell (17) D11F

It was strange how humans thought about consequences after taking rash decisions.

Human mind was very complex and only a magician could unearth the true meaning and intention behind a thought or an action. Usually, that magician was the said person itself, but sometimes their magic worked a little late.

Ari did not regret her decision to volunteer. No, her brother meant the most to her and it was a small price to pay for his well-being. Maybe not many people would relate to her thought or action but in her heart, she felt what she did was right. However, there were always two sides to a coin. Her decision, driven by love and care, seemed right to her then, but right now, it suddenly dawned on her that Rocco was all alone with their mother… a fate she had condemned him to. She was certain that her mother wouldn't kill her… hopefully… but what about care? Who would take care of him? What if needed to go to the washroom or needed to eat? What then?

She wished she had foreseen those circumstances before volunteering.

But now, there was nothing to do other than hope. Hope for the best and hope that at least their mother would give him food and help him move around when necessary. That was too much to ask for, but there was nothing that could be done now. The only way to counter the disaster she had caused was to win.

"Ari. ARI!"

The girl's head snapped upwards, looking at the beautiful Elsa, a concerned look on her face. Ha! The mastery these Capitolites had in faking emotions! Why would she be concerned anyway? Wasn't she just hoping for some kids to drop down dead? A part of Ari's intelligent brain told her to be fake like Elsa, but faking emotions were not her forte. So instead of the beaming smile she needed to give, a death glare was all she could offer.

"Sam asked for you both. He has to talk," Elsa said dryly as she sensed the hostility. This just proved Ari's point; the Capitolites only pretended to be concerned. To be good. To be human.

Without a word, Ari got to her feet and walked past Elsa, her shoulder brushing against the woman's. from his chair, Maurice stood up hesitantly, his eyes on the carpeted floor, his movements slow and jerky. Ari frowned as she observed the extremely shy boy. He looked very different from most other people she had seen. She could say he was a freckled beauty, and wondered if that's what made Maurice so unconfident. However, this reason seemed trivial to the intelligent girl. She had seen pretty unattractive people brimming with confidence. No… this nervousness, this anxiety… this was for some other reason.

She'd have to stop worrying about him.

After all, only one person was going to come out alive. And if his nervousness was what would give her an advantage, so be it.

She held the door open as he came forward. The boy spared her a quick glance, and was rooted to the spot. It was as if he had seen a ghost. If poor Ari knew what Maurice was thinking at that point of time and what his history with females was, her good heart wouldn't have allowed her to stay in his company for even a second. But now, even as she saw the fiery hatred in his eyes for that second when he did look up at her, she couldn't fathom what caused it. The look had been so hostile that Ari was momentarily stunned, and in that span of time Maurice was through the door. In fact, even the person for whom Ari would never hold the door passed by her, brushing her shoulder against the tribute. Elsa, as was the way of the rich cultured Capitolites, smiled politely at Ari before thanking her.

However, if someone took advantage of your quietness, it was only right to teach them a lesson for life. For the young girl from Eleven, this seemed to be the most annoying and frankly frustrating moment of the day save for the Reapings. With a huff, she slammed the door just when Elsa's back was turned. This small move shook Elsa temporarily, and soon the beautiful Capitol woman was on the floor, with pain coursing through her body. Smirking to herself, Ari opened the door and stepped in as well, taking her time to indulge in the satisfaction of seeing the cause of her annoyance on the floor. With a smile that rivalled Elsa's, Ari continued to move forward and found Sam sitting on the bluish green velvet couch.

This room was on another level of extravagance. The golden lighting momentarily perplexed young Ari as it flashed in front of her eyes. She shut them hastily, but the stars were adamant to not leave her sight. Slowly, her mind prepared for the flashy lighting, she opened them again. It stung certainly but when the mind knows what to expect, the pain becomes less.

The marble floor was beautiful. She didn't get how a train would have a marble floor or the mirrors against each wall, making the room even more dazzling. This room in particularly felt out of the world to her. It was just not what anyone in District Eleven could even imagine. Plus, it wasn't easy to get even one small mirror back home. These people had so many giant ones in one single room.

It was abrupt. The emotions that Ari felt as she saw how lavish the room in a train was were something that could not be obstructed except for her own rational thinking. They had spent an unimaginable amount of wealth to construct this beauty. It was admirable, yes, but the money was what made Ari clench her fists. Her lips quivered as she saw Sam on the couch, trying to make a talk with Maurice. If she had this money, if the Capitol used even this much money on healthcare, maybe she could help her brother without taking this foolish step. Rocco was unable to move, leading a life of paralysis. And here, all that money was spent on decorating a train.

She wanted to scream. She wanted to break things. She wanted to curse. Her heart seemed to be on the verge of exploding. Her blood boiled at the horrendous sight in front of her.

But when a person is about to have a date with death, they have to make their moves wisely. And that's what flashed in her mind. Therefore, instead of doing any of the things she desperately wanted to, she just settled herself on a chair.

Her thoughts had to be tamed for now. Even if she had to fight internal battles to do so.

Shama Grasswhistle (13) D7F

Little Shama sat by the window, her nose pressed against the cold glass as it rested on her hands.

The silence in the train was unnerving. Neither Aspen nor Mariam knew exactly how to handle this utterly uncomfortable situation that had arisen between their two tributes. Not that Shama cared about what they were thinking. The problem was that she was Reaped and she had watched enough Games to know that mentors and escorts could never help District Seven. It was with a valiant effort that she had managed to keep her tears at bay during the Reapings but once she had boarded, the tears flooded endlessly. Sit was only three minutes ago, when she had tired herself out by crying did she sit by the window to stare.

"Shama- Shama we need to talk…" Aspen said rather meekly, which was definitely not expected of a victor. But the recent outburst from the young girl had scared both mentor and escort.

"Yeah Shama, we need to discuss strategy," Mariam said kindly, or as kindly as she could.

With a huge grin on her face, Shama turned towards the two adults. She jumped on her feet and smiled again. However, the smile was more ferocious than her snarl.

"Of course! We need to discuss strategy. You guys have a wonderful record of victors, don't you? We certainly need advice to get out of the arena alive. In fact, you guys are so talented that you bring back both tributes every year! I'm honoured to be Reaped."

"You should be honoured!" Mariam said sourly, "You're representing your District in the Games."

"You're so right, Mariam! In fact, I'm elated. But you know what, I'm young. I've a lot of time to achieve glory. Why don't you go in my place? It will be such a big honour, right? Let's do one thing. You go in my place, and you Aspen, dress up as a man and replace Dwayne. Simple!"

At her statement Mariam turned a violent shade of red, something of the likeness of a beetroot. After all, it was always easier for a wise person to advise and state their important opinions but harder to reflect on them. Hence, she opened her mouth to reply but closed it again in imitation of a fish, before turning away from the girl.

Just when Shama thought that the matter was settled and that she had made her point crystal clear, a loud laugh from the corner of the room alarmed her. Maybe it was the suddenness of it or maybe it was the frustration, but Shama Grasswhistle wanted to slap Dwayne Wildflower on his handsome face. Who was he to laugh? He had burst into tears on the stage itself. At least Shama handled herself with more grace.

"I understand there's a sitcom going on Dwayne. It explains your soft laughter."

"Yeah, there is a sitcom going on Ms. Grasswhistle. A show of death that's about to commence. And you'll play a part in it. I'll be only for your own good if you heed Aspen's advice. Or at least, listen to her."

"Wildflower, I suppose you don't have the right to say much after the fact that I got Reaped when you interviewed me."

"Grasswhistle, I suppose you don't have the right to say much after the fact that I got Reaped after interviewing you."

"It's really impressive how you-"

"Shut up! Both of you!" Aspen screamed at the top of her voice. The two tributes, although furious, didn't push the matter further. Young Shama settled down on the leather sofa, her smile back on her face while Dwayne leaned against the door, his arms folded across his chest. The young man tried to not let his eyes get wet, but when potential death stared at you in the face… it felt only right to cry. However, as of now, he wasn't going to do that. His chances had been spoilt by his emotional breakdown during the Reapings.

Maybe Shama realised that too as well. The younger girl looked up at him with a sad face. It was a wonder how eyes expressed every emotion in a human. An understanding passed between the two tributes and Shama sighed just as Aspen started speaking.

"Okay, firstly I don't care what you have to say about the current number of victors, Shama, but if this will be your attitude then I can assure you that you will not add to the list."

"Why?" Shama asked coldly, "The previous tributes also had the same attitude?"

Aspen grabbed a glass and threw it at Shama's feet. The glass, on contact with the marble floor, seemed to inhale he very air from the surroundings and exploded like he deadliest explosive on earth. Shama jumped back and onto the sofa, unable to believe the intensity at which the glass was thrown. Her frightened eyes met Aspen's angry ones and in between electricity moved.

"What the ***?!" Dwayne yelled, coming over to Shama's side, "What the hell was that for?!"

"Shut up, both of you! One more word and I'll send a knife through your eye."

Shama's breath seemed to be restrained. It was so slow and so shallow. It felt as if the air had been sucked and all that was left was vacuum. Her young and wild heart suddenly was wilder than ever before an was valiant in its attempt to break through her ribcage. It wasn't due to the broken glass; that was only a part of it. It was the look that Aspen spared her, the realisation was that it was real. She was going to die. She was going to die. She was going to die…

Her hand clamped over her mouth, she sank into the sofa. Tears started cascading down her cheeks once more; these were her last days…

A strong hand rested on her shoulder and squeezed it gently. Shama looked up fearfully, her gaze finding Dwayne standing beside her, his eyes glaring back at Aspen. Gingerly, Shama reached out for his hand and squeezed it back.

Taking a very deep breath even as Mariam watched the drama unfold with clinical interest, Aspen let her shoulders slump. She sighed deeply and then asked, "We need to decide how you'll be trained. Together or separately? Will you ally or not? Tell me."

Before Dwayne could open his mouth to form a reply, Shama spoke up, her voice shaky and broken. However, it hid a determination and confidence, a firmness that was desired in circumstances as such.

"Yes, we will."

Hello! So, I'm here with the first pregames chapter! There were initially going to be four POVs but then… I don't know. It's midnight and I don't think I'll have time to write further for a few days so yeah.

Some of you mentioned that the blog isn't working but when in checked, it was. I'll put the address here again- eclipse91sthg. blogspot. Com

You also said that a few tributes weren't as easy to connect with because of the third person writing. I'll keep that in mind when writing future POVs for the said tributes.

Okay! So, what were your thoughts on these children here? Something new you felt for them? For their District Partners? Anything?

And now, let's talk about… languages. What language would you really like to learn? Like really want to learn? I'd like to learn Sign Language. XD Okay, okay, other than that, I think I'll go for Mandarin. It looks very hard but I'd like to try. I would if I weren't as busy because it just sounds so nice. I also like Russian. I don't understand Russian but it just sounds so beautiful, you know?

… The truth is, I'm too lazy and foolish to learn any new languages. That's just wishful thinking. I think I'll have to stick with the languages I know.

Anyway, hope you enjoyed this chapter. Also, if you haven't, please vote in the poll. I'm really surprised with the person who's leading right now.

Have a great day!