Sidney Fawkes, 16, District Two Male
He gasps as the boy from Eleven explodes with the rest of the supplies, causing a cannon to ring out among the dark night and light to drown him as the wave of fire hits. He's knocked off of his feet, flying through the air until he crashes into the dry soil of the arena.
His head rings with the sound of the explosives that he had detonated by accident only seconds before as he struggles to get back up, blinking his eyes slowly and coughing out the dust that he had swallowed in his fall. As he stands, a sharp pain in his left leg causes him to stumble once more, favouring his right leg as he regains his footing. It better not be broken. He can't handle a broken limb in the arena, even with explosives. He'd die, hands down.
And speaking of death, he can hear the panicked alliance that had taken over the cornucopia before leaving running back to it, the girl from Seven yelling at the rest to check for any tributes.
To check for tributes!
He hobbles to the cornucopia, the burning supplies creating a blast of hot air that seems to broil his skin. But he soon is protecting by the golden metal of the cornucopia, and he grimly clenches a handhold to pull himself up. On top of the cornucopia is the only place they won't check. Mother and Father have always reminded him that people never seem to look up high when they search for people. Looking up is the least natural movement for a head, and unless one of them hears him, they won't spot him on top of there.
He continues to move up the metal, the warmth of the fires making him wince as he pulls himself up. But he soon tumbles onto the top of the cornucopia, and instantly holds his breath as he hears the metallic clatter from his arrival on the roof. But seconds later, there's no replying sound from the alliance, and he sighs silently in relief. He's safe. Unless one of the girls has the idea to look on the roof. Then he's screwed.
He can hear the girls searching around the cornucopia, their hunt accentuated with cries of disappointment as they presumably find ruined supplies. There's a male down there as well, his voice mingling in with the rest of the girls. Have they let someone else into their alliance?
The alliance keeps searching, a cry of disgust from the male as he finds the remains of the District Eleven Male. The rest soon find the boy as well, and a heavy sigh from the girl from Two drifts up to Sidney. What's their problem? It's the Hunger Games. They have to bury their emotions to survive. There's only room for apathy in yourself when you fight others. Emotions cloud actions, and therefore the mind. It's best to cut them out altogether.
But he remembers the mangled corpse of the tribute, and he fights a rising taste of bile from his throat. He's not going to puke if he can help it.
The group soon seem to give up the hunt after the discovery of the corpse, likely accepting that the boy from Eleven had set the explosions. But Sidney can still hear little cries of disgust from the girl from Seven, disappointing that they've lost most of the supplies. The alliance will likely fold soon; any group that took command of the cornucopia in the last few games - only two others, and both in the same games to begin with - broke up after they started to lose supplies. With little of the supplies that had kept the alliance together to begin with, they'd likely be breaking up soon, optimally with a few deaths. And then the loners in the Games would have a chance…
But he can't think of the future when he has to focus on the present. What Sidney needs to do is get away from the alliance altogether, away from any chance of death. The supplies that he had been scavenging through when he had set off the explosives had likely been blown to smithereens, as he had idiotically ran from the beeping with his hands empty, and what little of what was little would be certainly taken by the group. He has to leave, and he can't do that until they decide to leave or sleep.
Leaving would be his best chance of escape, as sleep would bring up the potential to wake them up in his escape. Even if only one remained, he could manage to fight them off with the knife he had grabbed from the cornucopia. He'd win; there was no way even the most seasoned of the alliance could fend off a knife in the dark. The arena made for almost no light to be seen other than those infernal blinking lights on the hotel, leaving him nearly invisible. He just had to wait.
He's soon rewarded for his patience as the girls of the group start to walk away, leaving behind the boy to wait by the cornucopia as they presumably searched for a place to sleep. He bites back a peal of laughter as he remembers that lions usually let the females hunt, leaving the lone males to sleep or guard the camp. The alliance - no, the pride - were too predictable for their own good.
He slips off of the cornucopia, taking care not to bang the silver blade in his hand against the metal. He doesn't need to fight the male. But he doesn't, and he quickly hobbles away and to the hotel. Maybe he'll find refuge in the lone building in the arena. Who knows, maybe there'll even be a map of the arena in there!
He quickly gets to the door with no sign of pursuit from the boy, and he starts to turn the knob to find that it's jammed. Damn.
He keeps jiggling it, hoping that it's just a sticky lock, but nothing moves. He nods resignedly, grabbing a thin metal strip from his navy blue suit and attacking the lock. His years of lockpicking sessions pay off as the lock clicks, letting him open the door and step into the hotel. He quickly locks the door behind him - he doesn't want any of the pride following him into this oasis - and looks around to see a lit-up foyer. The game makers haven't held back any expenses in the decoration of the room, with diamond chandeliers and golden door-knobs adorning the room.
But he can't stop to gawk at the lights, he has to keep moving. He needs food and water, first and foremost, and a reliable exit out of the hotel. He doesn't need to be trapped by any attacks from tributes who had made their way into the hotel.
He heads in the direction of what seems to be a room made of metal, soon proving to be a kitchen. He grabs a bowl and fills it quickly with still-steaming grilled chicken set out on the counters before grabbing water bottles stored inside of containers. He then eats some of his findings, ravenously ripping off the meat from the bone and chugging down the water before he satisfies his thirst. And when he does, he keeps gathering food, only stopping to grab one of the knives on the table. From what he can tell, three others have been taken by tributes. That's more than enough proof that he's not alone in here.
Suddenly feeling nervous, Sidney spots the door out of the kitchen and walks through it, back out into the cool air of the arena and into the neck-length grass that covers this side of the hotel. He makes his way through part of the field before lying down, closing his eyes and waiting for sleep to come. He'll be safe here. The pride won't find him in this field.
But the Capitol anthem jerks him awake, quickly running through the militaristic symphony before starting to show the faces in the sky. It's the District One Male who first shows up, causing Sidney to nod. He expected the young boy to go soon. He must have died in the bloodbath; there was no way he had been that cannon close to the end of the day. He wasn't strong enough to make it out alive.
The District One Female is next, and Sidney gasps in surprise. She was a strong one, a girl who had seemed to carry a maturity about her that few others had held. It was a surprise she had died. Maybe she had been the cannon towards the end of the day. She had seemed to antagonize the pride simply through not acknowledging them, and her score would have made her a threat to take care of.
The District Four Male shows up next, grinning weakly from his portrait. Sidney nods again, he remembers the boy being sick during training. He must have been ill before the reapings, and it had carried through to the games. It was rather a shame, he seemed like he could have been rather strong if he hadn't been burdened by his illness. But he had died, and all the better for Sidney. There were only twelve tributes left to die before he could go home. Only twelve.
The Five Female lights up the sky right after the sick kid, showing a simper as she gazes down onto Sidney. He hadn't seen her all of the training, neither her partner. She was just a blank face in the sky, someone who he'd never know again.
The next few faces come through in rapid succession - the Six Female, the Seven Male, the Eight Male - all quickly show themselves to Sidney for the last time before they vanish into the night. He hadn't known them, and they hadn't known him. They were just kids who had died in the bloodbath.
And what difference did it make if they had died or not? It was numbers, not humans that he was truly fighting against. It was so much easier to think of the remaining twelve as targets. It kept some… anonymity to the fact that he was trying to kill them. Mother and Father had taught him that. They had anticipated that the technique would be used for assassinations, not the Hunger Games, but he'd gladly use it in the arena. He needed his sanity.
The Nine Male and the Ten Female show up next, causing Sidney to gasp in surprise. He didn't expect the girl to die, not with her score. She had been one of his top targets, and now she was just… gone. What happened to her?
But he doesn't reflect on the matter as the Eleven Male and Female show up in the sky, gazing down on Sidney. He squirms slightly when he sees the Eleven Male; he hadn't seen him hiding in the cornucopia until he had heard his cannon boom. It had been a nasty surprise, but it was beneficial to Sidney. His death had raised Sidney's odds from one in thirteen to one in twelve.
The anthem plays once more before finishing, and the arena turns silent once more. Eleven down. Twelve to go.
He smiles as he realizes that his parents must be watching the games together; not even missions granted anyone the privilege of skipping the mandatory viewing of the Games. Funny that his almost-death sentence was bringing them closer together, even if they didn't want to be. If he died, would they apply for a divorce from the Capitol, or would they stay together? He suspected that the first option would be the case; from his eavesdropping on them, they despised each other.
But at least they kept the facade of love up for him, even if he knew better.
He smiles as he drifts off to sleep for the benefit of the cameras, then yawns widely. The day's been long. He's got to go to sleep, even if sleep brought death.
And if he was given a chance, he'd be able to fight off death any day.
Another update! Am I starting to make up for my absence? XD
Well, hope you enjoyed the chapter! I sure did, and now we're onto Day Two! That means we'll be seeing the pride once more, as anyone who paid enough attention might have realized that the povs go loner-pride-loner-pride and so forth. Get excited for that big chapter, as it may lead to the death of another main character…
I'm hoping that I can continue my streak and I've already churned out 1k of the next chapter, but, realistically, we're probably getting the next chapter sometime in the next week. If you want to sponsor and have the points, DO SO! I'm perfectly willing to do it ;))))
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I've only got eight more days of work left, so I hope I can start working on my other syots and stories! Hopefully, I can, and keep going with this writing streak! Until next time, TheAmazingJAJ
