Hello, everyone! I am thrilled to see that a couple of you have chosen to follow this story! It really does wonders for my abandonment issues (by which I mean my tendency to quit a story...) In fact, you could say that I'm still writing purely for those of you who continue to read (though isn't that always the way...?)
Anyway, here's the next little installment! I hope you're still enjoying the fic! Let me know? Cause even though follows are the best thing ever, reviews can be more helpful...
Officially edited.
Well, enjoy!
"I told you heels were a bad idea," I whisper nervously to Flux as we enter the chariot loading dock. I am wobbly, to say the least, in the three-inch, clear, strappy heels he has forced me to wear. He wraps an arm firmly across my back, holds onto my arm with the other to balance me without calling attention to my general wobbliness. Anything to keep the other tributes from noticing…and they're all here. My eyes scan the crowd, latch on to the vibrantly dressed tributes from 1, the roman gladiator look of 2, the otherworldly techno suits of 3…the odd black suits for 12.
"The heels are necessary," Flux is whispering to me. "You're small—you don't want the other tributes to figure out exactly how small yet." I nod absently—my eyes have locked onto the boy from district 2, and my heart rate has tripled. He's giant, broad shouldered and covered in rippling muscles. I gulp—I don't want to run into him…ever, actually. Let alone on the arena. And yet. His eyes are blue...
"Take a breath, Tobi," a light voice advises from behind me. I turn, wobble for only a moment, and my eyes land on Oscar. I'm flabbergasted. Not only is this one of the first times he's ever actually spoken to me of his own accord, he looks utterly dashing. He's dressed in a teal half-toga, chest bare, netting much like my own around his shoulders, his coppery hair smoothed into waves around his face. On his head is a golden crown, and he holds a trident in one hand, face lit with a smile.
"Oscar, you look great," I tell him. He smiles, shuffles his sandals shyly.
"You think it'll help? You know…with the sponsors and stuff…" he asks. Flux grins, pats the boy on the shoulder.
"They'd be stupid not to sponsor you two," he promises. "You look like beings straight out of some magical tale."
The space explodes into a sudden clamor as suddenly everyone is ushered into their chariots. "Come on, Tobi, Oscar," Flux calls, leads us to our chariots. I hurry after him…only to slam into something hard.
I stumble backward, almost go all the way down thanks to my obnoxious heels, and blink rapidly before staring up at the face of the district 2 boy. He stares back down at me, face an odd mix of fury and amusement. Regardless, the end result is a scowl.
"Watch where you're going, 4," he growls. I sigh—I hate confrontations like this.
"Of course, your royal Careerness," I curtsy, voice tired. I meet his gaze unflinchingly, and he quirks an eyebrow. After a moment of silent staring, I affect a similar position. "Do you mind?" I ask. "You're sort of standing between me and my chariot." I point behind him. He merely smirks, and before I can react he's reached forward, grabbed my shoulders, and physically moved me to the right to clear his own path. I roll my eyes.
"Good luck with those land legs, 4," he calls over his shoulder, tone nasty. I freeze for a moment, Hiram's face flitting through my mind, and stare after 2. He only made the comment because district 4 is a fishing district…that's it. There's no way it's connected to Hiram at all. And I know that, but my heart still clenches painfully.
"Tobi! Get over here!" Blye calls from where she stands beside the chariot. I shuffle over as fast as I can in the heels, reach the chariot just in time, and Oscar reaches down to pull me up beside him.
"Alright, you two," Flux says, hands draped over the side of the chariot as he leans in. "Work the crowd." He winks at me before another, tanner hand reaches over to clasp mine firmly. I lock eyes with Finnick O'daire, his face more serious than I've ever seen it.
"This is the start," he says softly, looks between me and Oscar. "This is the first time they will see you, and it's imperative that you make a good impression." I nod, see Oscar do the same out of the corner of my eye.
Then we're off. The chariot jumps forward, and I clamp my hands onto the railings…only to discover there's no need. The chariot moves rather like a boat, and I find it's much easier to stand here than on solid ground with my heels.
The crowd goes wild at each new chariot, and I feel a soft smile decorate my face. Oscar looks positively ecstatic, waves at the crowd vigorously, much to their delight. I follow his lead, glancing around, catching a few tossed flowers, until my eyes lock on one of the large screens hanging out over the runway. At first, I can't see past my own face, glowing like a pearl framed with moonlight hair, eyes rimmed in black. I look like something…mystical, and Oscar looks like Neptune, himself, beside me. Then something behind my head appears on the screen, and within seconds I struggle to retain my smile.
District 12 has pulled out all the stops. All of them. They roll out in their tight black uniforms…and wings of fire sprout behind them. We are pursued by angels of destruction. From then to the end of the parade, and all the way through President Snow's annual speech, my eyes are glued to them along with everyone else's. They lock hands, wave to the crowd, intense and dangerous. My heart sinks. There go all my sponsors…
It turns out I'm not the only one upset by the display. As we all pull back into the chariot dock, I catch a glimpse of the careers as they dismount. Every single one of them is livid, but none so much as the boy from 2. His face is actually quite smooth, but his eyes burn as he glares toward the girl from 12. I flinch on her behalf before I'm distracted by a solid hug from Flux, who has come up behind me.
"Well done, both of you!" Finnick voices from behind him. I offer a weak smile.
"You think we made an impression?" Oscar asks eagerly. I cast my gaze toward the district 12 tributes.
"Not enough of one," I murmur, even as Finnick, Flux and Blye assure us otherwise. Finnick walks up to me, places his hands on my shoulders.
"Now, you listen here, Tobi Silverside," he says. "don't pay any attention to the other tributes for right now—you and Oscar were amazing tonight, and tomorrow we start your training. You need to focus, not be distracted by what you think the sponsors are thinking." I nod absently, and we head off toward the elevator. Unfortunately, my distractions are far from over. As we approach, another group appears near the elevator, as well. My heart sinks—it's district 2.
"Flux," one of their handlers greets with a nod. Flux offers a wane smile that leads me to wonder how many dead tributes lie in the rift between the two crew members.
"Neon." From there we lapse into silence. Oscar looks pointedly at the floor, while I recline against the wall of the elevator, attempting to look coolly casual. The girl from 2 smirks; there's something mean in her face. I imagine she will quite enjoy her killings during the games. The boy, on the other hand, remains still, expressionless. Every once in a while, we share a glance, and a smirk almost reaches his eyes before it disappears. The elevator rise lasts an eternity. The boy makes a point to knock my shoulder as he sweeps out of the elevator, and I can't hold up against his superior weight. I stumble, and Finnick rights me with a fierce glare at the boy. He responds with one last smirk over his shoulder before the doors close, and we're spirited up to the fourth floor.
Dinner is…interesting. The food is heavy, rich, and I can't stomach very much of it, though I try my best. There's a bizarre soup, and I can taste a bit of clam somewhere in it, so I mostly eat that. The other dishes are too bright…too covered in sauce for me to brave.
"Well, you had all better get some sleep," Blye advises as we finish. I stare at my almost full plate with a sigh. I miss the salt and oil of seafood…
"Tomorrow's a big day," Finnick agrees. "You both head down to the training box tomorrow. Now," he leans forward, gaze serious. "Don't go for the weapon you're most confident in. Find something you're decent with, and practice at that. Spend most of your time at the survival stations. Don't show anyone everything you can do." I nod, but my heart quails. Confident? With a weapon? I share a glance with Oscar, and it appears his thoughts are similar to my own. Neither of us have any experience with weapons.
Tomorrow will be an interesting day.
Sorry-a little bit of a short chapter, and it didn't really tell you much of anything you didn't know. But we're moving closer to the actual games, yes? And Tobi has already had some interesting run-ins with Cato...also, I will warn you in advance, there will be some interesting twists coming up regarding Tobi's reactions to the games. So yeah-be prepared, yo. Haha. And for returners, let me know if you approve of my little edits, if you catch them. Mostly they're little one-liners; just touch-ups, really.
TTFN!