Sorry guys but I probably won't be updating for a while, I was planning on finishing up to the pre-Games chapter before now so I could leave you all on a massive cliff hanger.
Clearly I failed.
As such, I'll try to update but around Christmas we have family and friends and stuff so I won't be able to write even if I don't edit a chapter at all.
I will try though. I'll try and still give you a nice blood bath cliff hanger but I might fail because the actual Games get me much more motivated.
Also Lulu, I'm stealing your story's review's advice.
I made up the time to purify water by boiling; it's just a nice round number for Flo.
Sorry if it's crap or OOC, I tried to finish it before tomorrow so it's a bit rushed. If you have a problem I can rewrite it when I'm on a computer again.
Aglaeca Grenier: (District 1)
"So how about we call you two Fell and Lix," I say, pointing at District 1 and District 4 respectively.
"I will not fall. Call me Hail," Felix 1 one replies, quiet but deadly.
"Haas and Hail: A Tale of Two Felixes," Summer mutters under her breath.
"Then call me 'King,'" Felix 4 says with a condescending smirk.
"I'll call you Hass if I want to dickhead," Summer snaps back.
"You'll call me King, bitch," Felix 4 replies testily.
"Since he's Hail we can still call you Felix now can we start killing stuff?" Calvin asks. The two from District 2 are runts but no one's willing to tell the Creepy Twins what to do. Felix tried to get rid of the girl and the boy appeared out of nowhere with a knife. I swear he was next to Summer and empty handed a second before and the District 4 pair weren't exactly holding hands.
Felix still won't let it lie, "Winter and Hail, maybe you two should get together some time," Felix grins and I can tell Summer's about to deck him.
"My name's SUMMER!" she yells.
"Shut it Felix," I back Summer up.
"Huh, Summer and a glacier, that's new," Felix shoots back as I grab a knife off the nearest table.
I'm sorely tempted to throw it between his freaking ribs but Hail's hand whips out lightning fast to grip my wrist like it's in a vice, ripping the blade from my hand like I'm a child.
"Not worth it," he hisses.
I still can't resist replying, even if Hail has the knife, "It's Aglaeca. Uh-glay-ka!"
"Done yet?" Calvin asks, the knife 'Hail' just tossed away now flying in an arc out of his tiny hand and into Fleur's like some strange game of catch. Sleeping with those two around is going to be a waking nightmare no matter whether they seem to be on our side or not.
"Sure, let's split up and scout the competition. Report back to the lunch tables at 1pm. Do whatever the heck you want, go with who you want but remember where your allegiance lies by the time you come back, yeah?" Hail commands. Even though he added a question at the end, it's still clear he's in charge.
"Who died and made you… Prince?" Felix asks since after his recent rant, saying King would be a somewhat bad way to finish that sentence in case Hail follows through.
"Afraid Hail will beat your ass little 'Kingy?'" I ask, getting a grin from Summer. I don't care how much she smiles; I won't forget that District 4 killed Leorica.
Felix is about to reply when Hail picks him up and chucks him into a dummy about a metre away. "Anyone else got any problems?"
Calvin and Fleur grin evilly and vanish before Summer wanders off towards the edible berries station looking satisfied with Felix's put down and seeming more interested in a snack than training.
Hail finally breaks into a smile as they leave us standing next to the currently-empty axe station. District 7 have their eyes on other things and no one else wants to pick up an axe; it could be an advantage for us. "So how'd I do?" he asks as he grabs an axe and decapitates a dummy with an almost lazy test throw.
"Not bad but you have to watch out for Felix and Summer, both their bickering and treachery. Oh and Fleur and Calvin seem to have their own agenda and they're creepy. So basically watch out for everyone. Throwing Felix? Nice job," it's as I say this that I remember Fe- Hail last night telling me to think about his abs if all else failed.
I can feel my lips curve into a smile as my eyes flick downwards, almost totally out of my control.
He grabs another axe and pegs it, splitting a dummy's head in half and imbedding the blade up to the shaft into the dummy's neck. That would be one dead kiddy.
"It seems to be getting a little hot in here," Hail grins, ripping his training shirt off and tossing it over the dead dummy's head as though the axe's shaft was merely a coat hook, "I don't really need that…"
Clearly he caught my glance as he stretches his muscles in an exaggerated yawn. "We'd better split, you take the weapons, I'll take survival and we'll meet back with lunch. You're probably right about trust issues in this alliance."
I watch him as he wanders off. The two dummies he hit have been automatically replaced and Felix is showing off with a sword to make up for being embarrassed in front of the Careers. For a moment I wonder if Hail isn't playing a more subtle game than he seems to be before shaking my head and moving off to the weapons stations.
I make a list of the people at the weapons stations mentally to report back to Hail later.
District 3 Male: At the knives, using two and clearly a beginner.
District 4 Male: Being an idiot over at the sword station.
District 5 Male: Following a bigger guy around the knife station.
District 6 Female: Trying to use a boy and arrow. Failing.
District 6 Male: Weighing up swords. Uncertain.
District 7 Male: Archery. Not bad.
District 8 Male: Heavy knives. Decent.
District 9 Male: Spears. Deadly.
District 10 Male: Archery. Not bad.
District 12 Male: Knives. Slow.
Not too many threats so far which is good but they might be covering their talents for later. Never hurts to be cautious.
It also doesn't hurt to get in my own practice. Since the sword's my best weapon, there's no point spending my time tackling newbies and wasting my time with petty injuries from dropping their swords or whatever they do. The knives are probably my second best and the best place to watch the most competition.
You can already see the alliance forming between some of the people there. District 8 has taken District 3 under his wing and District 5 seems determined to follow them.
Shame they're not very good, I'd hate to harm a pretty face like District 8's.
Calvin Emil: (District 2)
Fleur and I run off as soon as blonde-hair-strong-heart has stopped talking.
He wants us to look at all the hearts in the room and see which might bite back when we paint them red but then we'll be sad if we don't get what we were looking for and that's no fun. If we get surprised then that's a much better game to play.
We raced up the tallest climbing wall and sat on top next to the bell to ring if you reach the top. We didn't ring it because from here you can see the whole room full of blood and hearts.
Even the uniforms have red streaks on them but the room is all black… no fun at all.
We aren't allowed to cut the other tributes though, even the one who's sitting in the middle of the room in a ball, not even trying to stop us from getting to see all her blood running down her pale skin and through her hair. Her heart is barely even being used as it remains stationary while the others all pulse in the necks of their 'owners' as they run and throw around the room.
I can't sit still on top of the wall without being allowed to touch any of the blood all through the room. Even the weapons have dulled edges so they wouldn't be any fun even if we could cut things up.
Fleur is leaning over the edge of the wall with a grin on her face, staring at the people running around below.
"Hey, back up," I say as I lean back and relax on the top of the wall, "We can wait a while until the Games to pick our prey. It's no fun as a game unless we get to surprise them."
"Aw… but I want that one," she points at the big District 11 boy who's bulky but also tall and broad, the perfect candidate to take a heart from.
I almost can't stop myself from jumping off the wall and using the knife I took from Hail after he took it from Aglaeca to stab him and take his heart now. Then Father would be disappointed in me and he's the only one who understands how amazing the feeling of blood being pumped over your fingertips is…
"Let's play chopsticks," I say, trying not to think about all the blood the adults won't let me touch. But if they don't have any blood left…
"But we don't have any fingers to play it with…" Fleur replies as she checks the pockets of the pants and finds them empty, "I should've brought my own… the new one should still be in rigo… rige… riga… mortes… mortas… mortus…"
"Rigor mortis. You got some new ones… shame they don't let us bring more than one thing…" I sigh as I look at all the soft boned fingers curling and bending around the room, so soft and yet so close to being solid enough to play a proper game with them… if only we could touch them.
"How are we gonna play without them?" Fleur asks.
"We use our own fingers," I reply.
"But then we can't hold onto them to play…"
"You play like you're holding the other finger while yours is still on your hand."
"Well that's no fun… then you're just counting fingers, you don't get to collect any new pieces and you have to use the same ones you use for other things like cutting up people and that's icky," she replies, turning away with her arms folded, "I'm not playing an icky game like that."
"Fine… wanna go play with the knives?" I ask.
"Sure!" she grins.
No matter how blunt the knives are, they're all perfectly weighted, there's one to saw off limbs with the barbs along the blade. Another blade is just for fingers with a small hook and spikes perfect to shred through the muscles and the joints. Others have blades as fine as a hair to slice through skin like trailing a finger through blood except you get more blood instead of less.
One even has a red hilt and blade, already coloured and waiting for blood instead of boring silver blades which turn brown when they get blood on them.
When I get my hands on one in the arena…
Blood will fall like rain.
And I love jumping in puddles.
"Flo" Wren: (District 3)
The room is too loud.
I should be at home, finishing my toast 8.3 minutes ago.
I should be helping Mother chop up vegetables for dinner before she goes to work.
Instead the escort made me have breakfast 1.2 hours ago. I didn't have toast; instead I had bacon and eggs with 'pancakes ad maple syrup' even though today's toast day.
There's the sound of clashing metal on metal and people talking. They all want to kill me. They're just planning how to kill me, I know it. They're all conspiring against me. Just like my mother's brother who got brutally eaten by mutts in his Games. Then Mark's cousin allied with the Careers and had his toenails ripped out by his allies while he slept.
Everyone here's the same, they're all trained to kill and they're all going to come after me.
I hear footsteps coming towards me- it must be someone coming to kill me early. It's not my mother's footsteps which should have started 6.4 seconds ago when she walked upstairs to get dressed for work. They're too big and heavy and the floor feels all wrong.
"H-hi," a voice says nervously, "Are you okay down there?"
I move my arm slightly, not enough that he can stab me with a concealed weapon, and see the District 7 boy. He has an uneasy smile on his face but he can't fool me. He's here to kill me too; I can see the bow slung over his shoulders.
"Is there anything you need?" he tries again, his cheeks blushing slightly when I don't reply.
"You're just here to kill me aren't you? You're going to be all nice to me then come and kill me in my sleep in the arena," I snap, staring at him, trying to see through his 'nice guy' façade. I'm terrified that he's going to attack me now, defenceless like everyone else who I've heard of dying in the arena. I'm shaking and I just want to be at home in my chair like I should be after finishing with the vegetables.
"No-no I swear I'm just here to see if I can help you out, you seemed a little… off your game and I wanted to help," he stutters nervously as he takes a step back. He's good, but I'm not going to let anyone trick me into allying with them then rip my toenails out.
"Well go 'help' someone else who thinks they trust you," I reply as I curl back into a ball and hide from all of the people who want to kill me in my sleep.
Eventually he leaves and I can go back into the little black world where Mother is leaving for work. I'll eat lunch in 12.5 minutes and then after 13.8 minutes it's time for my walk and I can go around the room to all the stations where no one will try to trick me into trusting me then killing me.
For lunch I have a ham and lettuce sandwich with a 250mL glass of water just like I would at home at exactly 12:18.
Then I go for my walk and after washing my plate for 3.42 minutes in the drinking fountain I feel slightly better. The mud pit in the camouflage station feels like the boggy patch behind the pub back in District 3. The running track is covered in stones and grit, spraying dust like the back roads through most of the housing area of District 3.
Finally I find the station for building a shelter, something I used to do at home when I was small because it meant no one could see me and make me do something at the wrong time.
This time the shelter is made of leaves and branches instead of metal and scrap but the effect is the same.
I take a flint and stone from the fire-making station as well as equipment from water purification before settling back into my little shelter in a shielded corner.
The flint takes between 3 and 5 strikes to catch properly so if it catches light early I can keep striking for 5 strikes every time. It warms up the shelter a little bit and if you keep it at exactly the right height it's the same temperature as home.
Purifying the water takes an exact number of drops of iodine or boiling for a certain temperature which makes it easy to work with. 10 minutes boiling for every 100mL, it's like heating a bath at home.
It even has the slight metallic taste that District 3 water, which runs through the factories and old iron pipes, has.
I almost feel comfortable until I smell the smoke of the fire, which would be disastrous at home, when I tip the water on it and curl back into my ball and rock back and forth.
Felix Haas: (District 4)
I can see the scared glances from other tributes around the room, looking at me in terror as I decapitate some more dummies with one swing of the swords here in the Capitol. It feels amazing, all of them looking at me and knowing how much better I am than them.
Even with the blunt edges, they're so much better weighted than the swords in District 4, so much easier to kill with. I could kill a million guys with one of these swords without taking so much as a scratch.
Of course that wouldn't be just the sword. Most of it would just be my skill but the sword would help my hair catch the light as I killed some stupid, weak outer District hicks.
"Practice?" I hear the kid from District 9 grunt from behind me, tapping my shoulder with the spear in his hand. He looks confident, but he's just another opportunity to show all those other idiots that they should fear me. It's not like anyone can beat me from all of these 'family' kids who think that they're going to be home for mommy.
Since they're never going to beat me, I don't really care about the weaklings and their 'feelings.'
"Sure, kid, try me," I reply casually, grabbing my own spear and leaping into the hand-to-hand combat ring.
He follows and I grin as he tries to make himself look bigger and tenses as he twists the spear in his hands in preparation. Probably a nervous twitch, how pathetic. Then again he should be nervous, thinking he could compare to me in a fight.
No chance, 'buddy,' no chance.
"Your start," I offer loudly as everyone in the room turns towards us to watch. All the better for them to watch my impending victory.
He lunges forward strongly and I still manage to slap it away with a quick swipe. He's faster than the usual losers I see on the TV in the Hunger Games but still, there's no way he can match up to the great Felix Haa- King.
I lunge towards his shoulder as he rolls his spear again in his hands as my spear flicks sideways as he stabs out with the spear once mine flicks to the side so I have to bend sideways to dodge the point.
Lucky strike. He's not going to get lucky again.
I thrust the spear straight for his vitals as he recovers, even if I can't pierce his skin a good bruise should show off who's boss.
Once again he gets lucky and smacks the spear aside with his shoulder before stabbing with the spear, aiming for my heart.
I grab the spear with my left hand before shoving it away and lunging with my own as he struggled to pull it back again. He grabbed my spear as we grappled over the two spears, each aiming with one and gripping with the other.
"Pointless, SWORDS!" the District 9 boy calls as he lets go off both ends of the spear causing me to step backwards as the force on each end is released suddenly.
He's not going to embarrass me like this.
I grab a sword with one hand as I wipe the sweat from my face on the edge of my shirt as I face off from the District 9 boy. I can't believe he matched me at a stalemate.
Not that it was my fault, stupid spears are useless weapons anyway, much too useless for a close-quarters fight even with my skills.
I grip the sword and lunge as soon as it's firmly in my hand, but the District 9 boy already has his own and parries the strike before replying with his own.
It's clear that he's not used to fighting with a sword, but he's still too even for me to get a clear blow. He seems to predict each strike and block it, even though he has none of my skill, finesse or good looks.
Finally, after a minute of fruitless hacking, slashing and blocking, I pretend to mess up a block- as though I would ever do it accidentally- and let his sword slide away awkwardly as I kick him right between the legs.
He drops slightly, but when he comes back up he smashes his forehead directly into my nose and I can feel it break as blood pours down my face.
I draw back my arm, clenching the muscles tightly, to smash his head in with the sword now that he's on the ground when another set of arms grips me from behind and wrenches the sword from my grip.
Two of the Peacekeepers who apparently stand guard on the training have my arms in a lock behind my back and the same has happened to the District 9 kid, his eyes tearing up in pain. Wimp, clearly he doesn't have the balls to take it like a man.
"Fighting is not permitted during training," one of the Peacekeepers intones.
"What are you gonna do about it?" I sneer as the Peacekeepers pull my arms tighter against my back to try and stop my struggling so I can beat them up too. No one manhandles Felix Haas a.k.a The King.
"All tributes violating this rule are to be confined to their rooms until the Gamemaker's Session and to miss the remainder of the training sessions," the Peacekeeper replies and I swear he's laughing at me.
I try and wrench away again as I cough up a mouthful of blood that talking earned me.
Even if I can barely see from the swelling in my eyes, no tears come from a real man, I can still think; damn that District 9 boy, I bet he knew what he was doing and was just trying to get me kicked out of training.
When I get tossed into my room, I try to turn back and punch the Peacekeepers' lights out but the doors close instantly, locking me in.
I spend the next 3 days being served prisoner's rations, bread, cheese and water.
No fancy Capitol food, no weapons and no escape.
The windows are barred and I'm trapped inside, brooding over my hatred of the District 9 boy as a crack my knuckles and exercise like there's no tomorrow, when I come out I'm going to be even fitter than all those morons with their fancy training equipment.
Hail and Summer come up on the second day to 'make it clear to me that I'm still with the Careers no matter what.'
I don't care who I'm 'with,' the boy the Reaping video calls 'Ahab Bronson' is so dead that the force of my thoughts should have caused him to stop breathing already.
Die District 9.
You will die.
The other two will hopefully be up soon but might not be…