Chariots: Karneval
-Orpheus Harper, 17, District 4-
My dream was finally becoming tangible. I could see it and feel it, and even reach out and touch it. I was going into the Games and I was going to fulfill Calliope's wish.
I stepped off the train behind Valencia, to a see of flashes and excited screams. I had seen glimpses of the Capitol on TV but nothing could have prepared me for the sheer amount of people lined up to catch a glimpse of me or Valencia.
My mentor, Reyna, leaned down to my ear to make sure she was heard. "Just keep going and follow the Avoxes, I'll keep my hand on your shoulder, alright?" The sheer sensory overload made the noise and colors all blur together, so I focused on Valencia and Reyna's hand on me and kept moving forward one step at a time until we entered a blindingly white building.
"Mr. Harper! We need to do a quick medical check-up before you see your stylist. Right this way," said a girl who bafflingly resembled a moth, down to the antennae. She wore a luxuriously furry-looking scarf that didn't seem fitting for a doctor's office but sure helped that moth aesthetic.
"We'll see you after, Orpheus, shouldn't be too long." Reyna gave me a short nod and was off on her way with Salvador, Valencia's mentor, already hopping into a conversation with him. I turned and followed moth-girl into the most professional doctor's office I had ever seen. It was certainly a far cry from the homely little apothecary I visited so often at home. The nurse had wing-like protrusions flowing from her hips that brushed both sides of the doorway. I think they left some kind of residue behind, just like real moth wings.
Still a little perturbed moth-girl hadn't introduced herself, I absentmindedly followed her instructions to take my height, weight, blood pressure, and then answer questions about my medical history.
"How long have you had that eye condition?" she turned to me with her antenna furrowing down with her brow.
"Um, I think about five years ago? It just started happening with one of my sickly periods." the absolute silence stood out, as she completely froze, not typing into her computer nor saying a word. "I thought it was just something with being albino," I offered nervously, "That's what my apoth-...doctor said back home."
"Well the doctor will be in to see you shortly! I'm sure it's fine, don't worry," she laughed nervously. She darted out before I could ask her anything else.
A quick knock and in came the most normal looking person I'd ever seen from the capitol. "Hello, Orpheus! I'm Dr. Strix!" She had brown hair, pulled back into a bun, and a lab coat over a blue blouse and dress pants. The complete lack of bombastic, eye-assaulting color and alien style was baffling in itself. I think she must have noticed my jaw touching the floor because she laughed and said, "Do I really look that surprising? A medical workspace is no place for cosmetic luxuries. It's a hazard you know!"
"That makes sense," I laughed. "U-um so is everything okay with me?" She stared intently at my medical chart for a brief second and frowned.
"I'm really surprised you bounced back from that plague sweeping your district three years ago...I wish I had the time to ask you to volunteer for research trials for a vaccine for that but you don't have much," she sighed wistfully, "Certainly not with the Games fast approaching-"
"You want to work on a vaccine?" I blurted out. She looked taken aback but recovered quickly.
"Well...I'd like to, but the interest and money just isn't there," Dr. Strix grumbled. "People's priorities here aren't what they should be, that's for sure."
I fell silent. She kept talking, unperturbed. "I want to put you through some tests to be absolutely sure you're fine before the Games. It's going to take up a lot of your limited spare time, I'm sorry. But I want to be absolutely sure the nystagmus you have isn't a symptom of a bigger problem."
"The what I have?" I felt anxiety rooting in my stomach.
"Oh it's your eye condition. Which, by the way, I'd like to get you some contacts. They'll work much better for you than glasses. I originally was assigned to you to evaluate your candidacy for surgery to fix that, but I don't want to cause you more problems than you already have. So we'll be running some tests, okay?" I nodded. Her warm rationality balmed any worries I had about the situation. "But, you've barely got extra time today so off you go, Orpheus! I'll be rooting for you at chariots, alright?" Dr. Strix smiled reassuringly. And before I knew it I was being swept away by moth-girl again and back to Reyna.
"How'd it go?" she asked as we walked across a catwalk to another building. She rubbed the smooth silver band on her left hand. She got engaged just a year ago, it had been all over the news, of course.
"Um, okay I think. Dr. Strix wants to run some tests before doing any kind of eye surgery on me," I reported. I tried not to think about the implications of what more tests could mean and focus on just today; on what was at hand.
Reyna nodded. "That's good. I was worried they were gonna turn up something weird since you're albino. Which by the way, the people here are gonna eat up. A District citizen, with white hair and pale eyes? You're already halfway there to the picture of 'fashion' here," she snickered. I was really glad I got Reyna as my mentor. She's definitely a more recent one, having won the 23rd Games, and her easygoing down-to-earth nature made her really easy to talk to. She made me feel like I had a chance. For Calliope.
We stopped suddenly and entered a room with people wearing enough colors to make up for the room's lack thereof.
"Oh look at you! They didn't tell us about this beautiful white hair!" a guy with a purple topknot and deep blue sparkly eyeshadow and lipstick exclaimed, turning gold cat's eyes towards me. "I'm one of your stylists, Mako. Our head stylist will be here shortly, she's running late. But in the meantime, let's get you freshened up!"
"I'll be leaving," Reyna turned and waved without looking behind her. Suppressing a laugh, she called back, "Good luck, Orpheus!" I had heard whispered stories of stylist sessions being worse than the Games themselves and could only hope it was only exaggeration.
"We're going to be starting with a full-body wax," Mako smiled with a terrifying glee. Wait…
"My body hair is completely white, w-why is that necessary," I cried, my voice cracking embarrassingly.
Mako tsk'ed at me. "It's just protocol, buddy. Now, hold still…"
Instead of zoning out and trying to forget the searing pain, I tried to meditate and focus, to remember my purpose for being here.
"Calli, why do you have to go train every night? Can't you take a break?" I whined. "One night won't kill you!" She stopped on the front steps of our porch and spun around. The cool salty wind whipped past us; a warning of storms on the way.
"I could, but I won't be learning a completely unorthodox method of sword combat that way! I've gotta shock those District 1 and 2 careers out of their skins, y'know," she winked. "They'll shit themselves when I clock them holding a sword by the blade!"
As exciting as that sounded, I couldn't muster the enthusiasm like normal. It seemed odd to think, but I really missed my sister. This alone was the most we had spoken in at least two weeks. The carefree grin on Calli's face faded. "Hey," she said quietly, "I'm sorry. It's not like I'm close to the trainers choosing a volunteer, there's no reason to go at it as hard as I have."
"I understand, Calli. You want to be the be the best so you can volunteer, I get it, but…" I struggled to say the words that came to mind, "I miss spending time with you. Even if it isn't cool to spend time with my big sis anymore." Calli's shoulders sagged and the dark circles under her eyes and the wan, sickly pallor to her face stood out even more.
"I'm so sorry Orpheus...I...I think a night off would be nice." she smiled weakly. The transformation from how strong she had seemed seconds ago to how bone-deep exhausted and frail she appeared now was terrifying. I could only hope something like that wouldn't happen to her in the Games. God I could only hope, there was nothing I could do to help her but try to convince her to rest when she could.
Calli...
"Alright, you're ready to go! Lycaenidae will be here any minute now," Mako cracked his knuckles expectantly looking at the door. As if on cue, it opened and moth girl had returned.
"Was something wrong with what Dr. Strix said to me? Do I need to get a test done right away?" I asked, starting to panic.
"No, I'm actually your stylist. Though it is pretty funny I had to take you to the doctor while on my second job I have to say," she laughed. "I never properly introduced myself. Call me Lycaen."
"Okay," I promptly sagged in relief. But it didn't last too long before dread returned. "What...what's the plan for our outfits?"
"Be glad there aren't nets involved, Miss Voleur's special request she sent all the stylists should keep anyone from looking stupid tonight," Lycaen circled around me, gauging my build and features. "That being said...you and Valencia are going to be fish."
"But I thought you said no one is going to look stupid tonight," I protested in a small voice, hoping deep down that Lycaen had something up her sleeve.
She showed me what she came up with and I had to say, I was not going to look stupid after all. If that was the standard for tonight, the chariots ceremony tonight would be far from a joke, that's for certain.
-Conrad Horowitz - Capitol-
I cracked each of my knuckles as the final preparations were being made.
"I hate that sound, you know," Robin grumbled next to me. He slipped his sweater off and turned to a stylist to touch up his makeup.
"I crack my knuckles before every time I'm on the air, you would think you would be used to it by now," I answered mildly. Truth be told, I was excited to see what the stylists were going to come up with under Ariettey's orders. No dumb outfits this year, nothing avant garde, just something classy. Just like her, in a way.
"Your dress looks nice though, Horowitz. Never imagined you could make a sweetheart neckline work," Robin commented.
"I'm not sure whether to take the compliment or be offended, Sarabande," I laughed dryly. "You ready for this?"
"I'm certainly interested in how that special request is going to affect what we see out there," he admitted, shuffling his notes into a neat pile in front of him. "I hope Arrietty knows what she's doing."
I was the only one outside the Gamemaker Headquarters who knew what was down the pipeline. I had to be careful not to give away that I had that knowledge. "Oh, I think she does. I've know Ari long enough to believe in her."
"Starting in 10 seconds, everyone! Be ready!" a director called from behind the cameras, too short to be seen.
Ten seconds were just long enough to take two deep breaths. I closed my eyes and when I opened them, we were rolling.
"Hello everyone, welcome to the Chariots Ceremony coverage! I'm your host and Head Interviewer, Conrad Horowitz, and this is-"
"Not going to let me introduce myself, Horowitz? How rude," Robin feigned looking aghast, the exchange completely planned in advance. "I'm Robin Sarabande and I'm your Announcer for this year's 27th annual Hunger Games!"
"We'd best direct our attention to the chariots, they're just starting to move!" On cue the light above the cameras indicating we were on the air dimmed. We were no longer on camera. Robin visibly relaxed.
"District 1 is looking beautiful this year, don't you think?" I asked Robin. The silver and gold-lined chariot led by a beautiful pair of white horses held two careers sparkling just like the gemstones of their district. The girl's blonde hair cascaded over her shoulder and a pink gold flower tucked behind the ear opposite of it was stunning to say the least. Her aquamarine colored dress was a mermaid style that darkened towards the hem. "That golden embroidery really makes Cadenza shine, don't you think?"
"I think Cerulean looks just as bright, look at his hair!" Robin exclaimed. It was streaked with silver, which brought out the silver of his tie. His suit was that purple-blue shade that he was named for. He smiled amicably at the throng of people watching and his eyes found a camera. The crowd went nuts.
"Ah, but here comes District 2, let's see what they have to show, shall we?" I smoothly asked to transition to the next chariot. Pulled by two black horses was a granite chariot shining like graphite. The boy was tall this year, and sharp didn't begin to cut it. The outfit was clearly inspired by the decorative Peacekeeper's uniform, a dark grey lined with black and white. The white lines down his legs were straight lines. I half expected the kid to salute. Billowing out behind him was a granite-colored cape emblazoned with the emblem of the Capitol in pure gold.
"Our boy from District 2 this year is quite the odd story, isn't he?" I asked, another planned exchange. Robin nodded.
"Though at the Reapings he called himself Jack when he volunteered, that is not his real name. I wonder if we'll get the story on that?" my co-host replied. Jack raised a white gloved hand and did a two fingered wave at the audience. That single sharp movement brought more cheer from the crowds than District 1 did combined.
"I certainly plan to ask about that at the Interviews," I answered with a chuckle. But my attention was on his district partner now. Not to be outdone, she raised her fake sword and scales in hand to rally the crowds she faced on the opposite side of the road. The creamy marble dress, the blindfold-it was obvious she was to look the spitting image of Lady Justice. She evoked quite the cheer from crowds on her side as well. "You know, with the crowd this riled up and we're only two districts in, the Careers are going to be quite a force to be reckoned with this year!"
"Oh, for sure," Robin agreed. "I'm excited to see Miss Latika in action myself. But onward to District 3!" Right on cue, the Chariot pulled into view. The shine on the girl's dark silver, form-fitting floor-length dress easily made wires come to mind. Her dark hair was in an elegant updo,and a single braid fell to her shoulder. Clasped at the base of her throat was a translucent shawl. She smiled at the crowd. She was the one drawing attention,after all. The boy was in a dark silver dress shirt with short sleeves and dark pants. His tie appeared to be black, until all of a sudden both her shawl and his tie were lit with moving, gently pulsating light, much like a circuit board. The crowd collectively ooh'd in admiration.
"Robin, I think I need to look into getting one of those shawls myself. Just look at it!" I laughed.
"I dunno, I'm pretty sure Hazuki down there is wearing it better than you could," he retorted good-naturedly. He ran a hand through his slicked back, currently green hair. "What do you think of Oberyn down there? He's just staring and scowling."
"If he's trying to intimidate, it's working," I quipped, "I am quite intimidated."
"Well," Robin scoffed, "It doesn't really take much to intimidate you, Horowitz." I gasped in mock horror.
"How dare you! Moving on," I sniffed, "Let's take a look at District 4!" Their girl was just as stunning as the other careers this year. The halter style highlighted her curves, and the contrast between the bright silvery fabric and her caramel colored skin worked in her benefit. The dress style's deep V-cut also worked in her favor, if the crowd's response was any indicator. She had a silver-streaked, satin scarf swept over her shoulder, and a delicate fin behind each ear. Her district partner in contrast, was fairly simply dressed. He wore a navy vest striped with silver with navy pants. Aside from the shock of white hair, sunglasses he wore, and fake sword he held, his outfit was dwarfed by hers. "I believe they're supposed to be fish, what do you think, Robin?"
"Ah, that would explain the sword," he nodded in understanding, "A swordfish! I don't know what kind of fish Valencia is, but she's certainly the fairer fish."
"Orpheus has a coolness about him though! Look how calm he is, waving to the crowds," I said, not realizing I was pointing despite not being on camera. Oops. Robin's smug look meant he definitely saw that, too.
"But what's that off in the distance?" Robin asked, thankfully skipping the chance to poke fun at me on national television. "It's so bright it could be another sun!"
"I believe...that's Rai Raines of District 5," I answered, still in disbelief myself. You could barely look at her from afar. As she came closer, it was easier to make out the details. She and her district partner both wore sunglasses to protect their vision. The mid-thigh length dress was a cute, spunky cut. But it glowed yellow with the brightness of lightning. Oh, lightning! "I also believe that she's supposed to be the lightning to Lars's lightning rod!"
"What a creative way to tie in District 5's industry," Robin commented with admiration. Lars's outfit was dull by comparison, a black tux with a dark grey dress shirt underneath. But for sake of the theme, the two worked well together.
Before long, District 6 was coming into view. The pair looked pretty happy to be there for outer district tributes, and their identical matching outfits were adorable. Black satin vests, long-sleeved white dress shirts and gloves, and stout little hats-they were train conductors!
"If these two were the conductors of the train for my daily commute, I would be ecstatic," I remarked.
"Maybe Rook, but Felix is a little young to be conducting trains, don't you think?" my co-host chuckled.
"Maybe someday he'll get to, who knows," I shrugged. "Onward to District 7!" The girl, Melanie, looked a little nervous but put on a smile for the crowds. Her dress was a snug fit with horizontal lines to make it look like stained cherrywood. The boy, however, could not look more nervous. He was in a mahogany-stained vest that honestly appeared to be made of the commodity so prized from District 7. A white dress shirt was rolled to his elbows. It was a simple, sharp combination that would have inspired confidence in just about anyone. But why not him? I made a mental note to keep it in mind.
Robin clearly noticed as well. "Colton down there looks like he's being forced to eat one of those scorpions-in-a-lollipop. How could he make such a face in our beautiful Capitol? It can't be that mortifying to be down there!"
"Calm down, Robin, I'm pretty sure you made a face like that when Claudia got you to ride the Canary's Coalmine at Panemland," I said, not without amusement. "Or were those pictures she sent me not of you?"
"D-don't bring her into this," he hissed. "Or those pictures. L-let's look at District 8!" As the chariot drew near, the dun horses moving at an easy trot, the pair came into view. The boy wore tweed pants and a tweed jacket over a white collared shirt, but the shirt was sprayed in blues, greens, and purples in a splattering of dye. Garrett looked thrilled to be there, unable to soak in enough of his surroundings. Tessa wore a flannel patchwork quilt over her shoulders like a shawl. It had flaws, but they were endearing flaws integral to it, like Panemite folk art. Her dress was high waisted and a quilted pattern as well. The bodice and arms of the dress were a light, white, flowing cotton. She was definitely the warmest tribute tonight. Her hair was done up with two bangles artlessly falling to frame her face. And of course, Tessa's reservedness made the crowd interested in a different way than Garrett's did.
"Just look at them! They could be in Panem's next fashion show," I praised the designs of both. The restrictions Ari gave them really forced the stylists to create something fresh and new, and it paid off thus far. "I'll have to ask about that quiltwork. Do you know how long those used to take to make in the old days? Hundreds of hours!"
"It's unbelievable how far technology has come," Robin said, shaking his head. "What does District 9 have in store for us?"
The pair from Nine were quite young, and short, this year. Nora, the girl, had a beige jumper on, and a blue bucket hat. Streaming from the hat was a plume that looked just like a stalk of wheat. And she had black and white striped knee-socks that made her cute as a button to behold. Her district partner, however, was a different story. He regarded the crowd with cold aloofness from behind completely unnecessary sunglasses. His shirt looked like a plain white t-shirt at first, but as the chariot came closer you could see it was a black shirt crusted in salt. His white khaki shorts completed the ensemble. Scott-erm, Scotty G. was going to be a character, all right.
The District 10 chariot was riding so close to Nine's that we didn't have time to fit a few quips in before it rode up.
"You know, no one is certain which District 10 tribute is our male and female," Robin began, "Which I was going to investigate-"
"But I stopped you, because there's no need to figure that out. They're our District 10 tributes! And look how happy they are to be here!" I finished for Robin.
Scout was dressed in full western equestrian gear, and looked quite cheery for the crowds. This late in the ceremony, the crowd ate it up. Koda wore a zipped up light grey vest over a white short sleeved dress shirt. At that moment Koda chose to draw the vest's hood up over their head to show the bunny ears attached to it. Their dark grey pants had a little bunny tail attached.
District 11 rode up quickly. After all, the chariots were spaced so the earlier career districts had more time in between them and the outer district tributes had less time in between them. The careers tended to be crowd favorites after all. The hulking enormous male tribute this year was dressed in an almost gaudy orange tux, brown undershirt, and brown pants with a green tie. The girl this year, dwarfed by Dmitri, wore a cute yellow summer dress accented with a warm brown scarf.
"You're going to have to help me out with these two, Robin," I confessed, unable to ascertain what abstract thing the Eleven tributes were themed after.
"Dmitri is a pumpkin and Cecily is a squash, easy," he snorted. "You sure you're cut out for this?"
"Give me a break," I grumbled. "We've got one last chariot, folks!" District 12's chariot came cruising along, and the outfits were really quite nice. Maverick was in a black cocktail party dress with an inner part with a short hem at mid-thigh length, and an outer, flowing darker nylon part draping down to her knees. The outer part was filled with something that glittered like coal. She had a confidence that went beyond her petite build. Glenn was in a dark grey vest with a white long sleeved dress shirt rolled to ¾ length sleeves. His bowtie was checkered red and black, and the top hat he wore spoke to the old wealthy families of District 12.
Before we could say anything, the first glitch in the plan of the Games this year sprung up.
The cameras jumped towards the end of the road, where the chariots were supposed to gather in a cul-de-sac in front of the Presidential Mansion. None of the Chariots were there yet, but District 1 was closing in.
"What in the hell is…?" Robin muttered under his breath. I was stunned and could barely watch what was happening. I could only hope that none of our tributes were going to be shot before the Games even started.
-Lars McKinley, 18, District 5-
There were too many thoughts in my head to count. They were still there, all of them happening so quickly I could never really figure out what they meant. I could think them, but it was far too much to process.
Dammit Lars, pull it together, I chided myself. You're in control. You can handle this. You're just going to win the Games. But if you keep being a fucking weakling, you're never going to win, you're going to die, die, die, die, like a fucking weakling, then all your brothers and your mother will laugh and feel satisfied, they'll be glad you're gone.
I clenched my fists and took a deep breath. I couldn't let anything show. I couldn't let anyone know what I was thinking, or else they would know me. Nobody can know me in the Games. I wasn't here to make friends.
I had been in denial the entire train ride here. I had met a Capitolite that herded me and Rai around like sheep. My oldest brother came to apologize because he knew I would likely be coming back in a coffin. Fuck him, fuck anyone who thinks I'm going to die here. I'm going to show them once and for all that I am not a runt or a weakling, I am strong! I am strong and I am going to win! I'm not going to give them the satisfaction of seeing me dead. Hell no, I thought, keeping my fists clenched tightly. I just couldn't help but get angry thinking about it. I spent most of my time angry, it seemed.
Up until this point, this all felt like some kind of crazy dream. Surely something would go wacky soon and I would wake up to my mother's voice and some breakfast for reaping day. That was what I told myself. Now I realized how wrong I was. This was reality. I was really here, and I was really in danger.
Great. It only took being dressed up like a fucking pole, ready to be displayed in front of the entire nation looking fucking ridiculous, like a dress-up doll or some kind of fucking trophy: to realize that I was in real fucking danger. Not that I wasn't always in real danger back home, but this was different. This was a place where the others' reputation wouldn't decline if my injuries showed.
Now, as I climbed up in the chariot next to my fucking blinding District partner, I realized that I had two choices: either I could wither away and give up, or I could step up and be the tribute everyone out there wanted to see. Maybe I had no one back home waiting for me. Maybe everyone in the nation, including (and especially) my own damn family wanted me to die. But I was fighting for something more important than them: me. I had always wanted to be in control of my own destiny, but crippled out of fear. I never acted because I was afraid I was too young, too inexperienced, too afraid of being beat down. Now, though, I could control my own fate. I could get out of here, and then I would be set: enough money to live, a house to get away from everyone. I would finally be able to stand alone, Lars McKinley, away from everyone who had ever done me wrong.
The Games were more than a little intimidating, but as our chariot lurched forward, I was actually smiling a little. I liked the sound of that.
I tried to see Rai's face, to try and gauge how she was feeling, but her outfit was so goddamn bright I couldn't even see her face. Even with sunglasses, it was unbearably bright. I hated being from this stupid District, with the same stupid light outfits every year. At least this was something different. I had seen District Five tributes covered in lightbulbs that were so tacky they looked like bubble wrap. I didn't appreciate being dressed up, but at least I was in a nice suit.
Unfortunately, next to the fucking shooting star beside me, not many people were going to give a damn about me. And I certainly wasn't going to smile and wave to the crowd like a fucking idiot. I wasn't here to charm them. I was here to prove to them that I was a fucking Victor.
The noise was deafening. It was probably the loudest thing I'd ever heard in my entire life. If I wasn't being watched by the entire nation, waiting for me to fuck up, I would have covered my ears and yelled at them all to shut the hell up. But I knew that I couldn't. I thought about my brothers, each of them, smirking victoriously after winning over me. Casimir, laughing after holding me down and groping me. God, I wouldn't let them win. I'm going to wipe those smirks right off of every single one of their stupid faces. I'm not going to fuck this up.
We rolled forward, and I could barely see the crowd. Then again, I didn't look for them. I stared straight ahead, just able to see the back of the District Four chariot. The sunglasses kept the crowd from seeing the seriousness and fire in my eyes, but I stood tall, trying to appear tough. I was going to prove them all the fuck wrong. The chariot stopped and I kept my balance. I wasn't about to look like a klutz in front of everyone. They weren't going to count me out.
I squinted up at the balcony, trying to see the President, but I saw nothing. Instead, the crowd started to gasp and yelp. The President didn't start talking before there was a wild laugh that seemed to boom across the tense and empty square. There was a clamouring of hooves on the ground that made the crowd exclaim. I had no idea what was happening, but I did my best to remain looking cool and tough. Nothing was going to catch me off guard. I was going to prove that I could handle anything.
I was really caught off guard when the giant-ass black horse came galloping in front of our chariot. On its back- its bare back, nonetheless- was the boy from District Two, laughing and whooping like he was having the time of his life. He had volunteered for this, so he probably was.
Of course he was smirking as he turned around and looped past, just so that all the rest of us would see him on top of the fucking world. God I wish he would be on top of me. I watched the horse tear away, looping up towards the Presidential Mansion. His smirk stuck in my mind, though. He was so smug. He knew he was causing a giant-ass disruption. He knew what he was doing, but dammit, he was going to do it anyways. He was going to make the world stop for him.
I was only admiring him because I was jealous, that was all. I was just wishing I could be that confident, like that, taking control of an event in the Hunger Games without a single apology. I wish I had balls like him. He was so hot. Brave, he was so brave! He was so brave. So brash. Confident. God, he was smug. He was a ham. He was winning over the crowds because he was showing them he was a wildcard. Nobody would take the spotlight from him. I was so jealous. And so aroused. No, not aroused, just impressed. Impressed that he would do that. It was ballsy. It was brave. It was everything I'd ever wanted to be. I wanted to be around that guy, and learn from him.
The President was talking, seeing as Jack had returned his horse to its chariot and the crowd had gone nuts, but I was paying no attention to the words he was saying. After the show that had just happened, nobody was. God, Lars, don't be stupid. He's from District Two, he was trained to kill people from shit Districts like you. Allying with that guy is a death wish.
I still didn't stop thinking about him as the horses turned around, and the crowd was subdued due to shock, and using up all their voices screaming for the Career who had, for some reason, chosen to go bareback riding on a horse. I was impressed. Rai's outfit didn't shine so bright now.
The chariots pulled in and stopped. Rai climbed out and I followed.
"I'm going to bed," she grumbled, hanging her head and looking uncomfortable at all the tributes staring at her as she went. It was hard to not look up with a fucking blazing comet tearing past you. I just thankfully took off my sunglasses. It didn't take long to adjust to the light. From there, I scoped out the other tributes. All of them were buzzing, trying to figure out how the boy from Two managed to hijack a horse, how he even knew how to ride it, let alone bareback, and if he would be punished for disrupting the Capitol like that.
Looking at all the outer District tributes that had stuck around to talk to each other, I wasn't very impressed. Each and everyone of them had an obvious drawback that ruled out allying with them. They were either too small and young, too happy and smiley, or sticking close to one of the tributes that was. I wasn't really in the mood to talk to any of those chipper bastards. They were trying to cope by making friends, and I wasn't here for that.
I was about to go to bed, until my eyes fell on the six tributes that would form the Career alliance. The boy from Two was there, of course, it was hard for my eyes to not be drawn to him after what he did. And because of his red hair. And because of his muscles. He was smirking unapologetically at his District partner, who looked pissed. The District One tributes were both laughing, grinning, probably proud of their prospective ally. The Four tributes seemed more awkward than the rest, but were still smiling. Obviously, they were the cream of the crop, and they all knew it. They were the strongest tributes there, and like myself, they were there to win.
Something in my head said, talk to them. After all, what would shock my brothers more than seeing me allied with the strongest tributes in the Games? The boy from Two seemed to look at me as he rode past, maybe that was a good sign. Maybe he was interested. Or maybe he was just sizing me up. Maybe he was just trying to establish his dominance over me and everyone else. Not in the perverted way (sadly). He was hard to decode.
I would love to prove my brothers wrong. They always called me weak and beat me into submission, to feed some misplaced jealousy that I got all the love from our mother. Love that I never even wanted. Love that is taken away just as quickly as it is given. If they saw me being apart of the strongest alliance in the Games, maybe they would think twice about me. Go talk to them. Prove them wrong. Show them that you are strong.
Then again, there were some obvious cautions to take. First of all, they probably wouldn't even entertain the idea of me, a boy from District Five, joining their pack. I hadn't trained with weapons, though I had trained with weights and cardio. I couldn't convince them of my skill here. I didn't look very impressive, after all. Compared to them, I was the least impressive. I would be the runt of the Careers, and I would risk being a scapegoat if something went wrong. Not to mention how embarrassing it would be to be rejected by them here, in front of everyone.
Do as the District Two boy did. Take a risk. Do something outrageous. Do it. Talk to them. Right now! I swallowed a nervous lump in my throat. It was a big risk. I clenched my fists, steeled myself, and started walking towards them.
The closer I got, the more I started to doubt myself, though. The boy from Two himself locked eyes with me and raised his eyebrows. The second his District partner glanced over, I changed my course to head straight to the elevator, which would take me back up to my floor. I just couldn't do it. The fear of humiliation was just too much for me. I had to be cautious. I had to make good decisions.
I knew I was pulling the same damn shit that I always had. The same damn shit I had just said I was going to stop pulling. But I couldn't overcome the fear that consumed me. I had no courage, and I hated it, but I had no source. I had spent so long being afraid that I'd just learned how to cope with it and keep going. Now was no exception.
The entire time I showered and prepared for bed, I couldn't stop thinking about his face as he galloped fast. He was so free. He was so brave. He was so… He was so… Confident. I couldn't stop thinking about him. How much I wished that just a little of that could rub off on me. I hated that I couldn't be brave. I hated that I couldn't escape this fear that was consuming me. I hated being a coward, but I just couldn't be brave.
His face never left my mind, even after I had climbed to bed and closed my eyes. I wished I could smile like that. I wished I could laugh like that. The more I thought about him, the more I realized how much I needed to learn from him.
As I saw him bouncing his eyebrows at me, I realized that if I wanted to control my own destiny, I would have to jump on a bare horse. Just like he did.
A/N: If you're still reading this we thank you from the bottom of our hearts and hope thirsty Lars is suitable reparation for the long droughts between updates XD Reviews are always appreciated and good motivators.
See you next time around! (We would say soon but don't want to be too hopeful here)
