I was invited to a beheading today;
I thought I was a butterfly next to your flame;
A rush of panic and the lock has been raped;
This is only a game;
This is only a game.
Lukas Bright stands in the lift, completely still. His eyes are blank and somewhat cold, dressed up and ready for the first day of training. The lift is somewhat packed, and the boy from District 10 is pressed up uncomfortably close to him, but he scarcely notices. The large pack of cigarettes he had scavenged from his boss before leaving is tucked into his front pocket, making a bulge in his thick chest. He has gained several odd looks for it- in District 5, cigarettes are fairly commonplace due to the excess of chemicals- but this does not bother him.
Mim stands a little way away from him, her face green and pressed up against the side of the elevator. They have become reasonably civil to one another, almost friendly. Lukas has nicknamed her Anger-Management, due to her extreme lack of a filter; he was completely flabbergasted by her, at first, before deciding to turn it what he hopes will become a running joke.
Their eyes meet, and he curls his lip at her. Lukas does not dare to speak, as he is overly cautious about anyone gaining a single piece of information about him, but hopes that his eyes convey the fact that he is vaguely sympathetic. Relax, Anger-Management, Lukas thinks, looking away from her, and staring into space. It's not they can kill you until we get into the arena. This elevator isn't gonna kill you, either. And if it does, it'll kill me too, and that's not on the agenda.
The elevator spits the tributes out into the Training Hall, where some of the keener types- Careers and the like- are already assembled around a dark-skinned woman, who appears to be in her early twenties. The woman is tapping her foot impatiently, clearly eager to get started. Some of the Careers appear equally acquisitive, staring wolfishly at their new opponents.
Lukas ignores the challenging gaze of the District 1 boy, making himself explore the room with his gaze. There is an irritation biting away at him, an irritation that threatens to bloom into white-hot anger, and he forces himself to control it. Letting go would give him an excuse to dive at the boy from District 1, but he knows better than to do so.
"Gather round, tributes," The dark-skinned woman calls over, and Lukas follows the crowd as they walk towards her. He finds himself near the back, with Mim on his right side, and the girl from District 8 on his left. While Mim appears relatively composed, the girl from District 8 is shifting from foot to foot, like she wants to move. Their eyes meet momentarily: Lukas grimaces at her, and she narrows her eyes back, before quickly averting them. She shifts across a little way away from him.
"My name is Atala, and I am your Supervisor, and Head Trainer," The dark-skinned woman interrupts his thoughts, and Lukas turns back towards her. Atala purses her lips at him momentarily, as if berating him for his lack of complete attention, before turning back to the others.
She launches into a speech, in which she reminds all of them of the rules of training, and asks them to keep as civil as possible towards one another. This last part is particularly directed towards the Careers; none of them react, aside from the boy from District 2, whose manic smile seems to widen. Lukas frowns in his direction and, for some reason, feels rather uncomfortable at the sight of him. An odd mix of electricity and bile runs through his stomach, up through his abdomen, and through his throat. He focused his attention back on Atala, ignoring the fear bubbling up inside him, and putting it off for mere intrigue.
I'm Lukas Bright, one of the bodyguards of the biggest crime lord in District 5. I've taken on… uh… Nott. But if none of Nott's boss' gang can take me down, then these kids will be a picnic. I'm sure of it.
While he's still trying to convince himself that the chances of his death are so low that they're not even worth thinking about, Lukas suddenly realises that the tributes have dispersed around him. He stands still, with only Mim left beside him. She looks somewhat nervous, still moving her feet a little, as if jogging on the spot without actually moving a muscle.
Lukas shoots a small smile in her direction. He likes the idea of working in a team; although there's no chance that he'll stick with anyone for too long, he'd rather have the support while he still can. Not having to do everything for himself would be welcome. And all right, perhaps Mim isn't who he'd usually consider working with. Maybe she still isn't. But, considering she looks a little more approachable than he does, maybe she'll make a useful accomplice when it comes to gathering useful allies.
Mim steps towards him. "Hey. I want to work with you. But it's up to you if this deal goes down." She smiles at him somewhat weakly, and he can't help but chuckle.
"You're on." Lukas agrees. He nods at her briskly, before starting to make his way towards the swords station. He pauses for a moment, thinking, and retraces his steps backwards, to face her. "One thing, though. Stay away from me for the rest of training. I'll explain why later, okay? Get to know some of the other tributes. Walk away now like I've said something perverted." Lukas quickly twists his features into a lecherous smile, and moves uncomfortably close to her.
For a split second, Mim appears completely bemused at the sudden information, and steps away from him, her eyes widening comically. She stands completely still for a second, before scoffing, rolling her eyes, and sashaying away from him towards a group of tributes clustered around the plants station.
Lukas grins. With Mim's help with his plan, he is pretty sure he'll be coming out of this alive. And, if not, she will be. He likes her a bit, even if she is irritating, has no filter, and evident anger management problems.
He strides towards the swords station, his heart filled with a longing hope. A hope of survival.
Rio Seymour lays his weight on his back leg, and watches the other tributes around him. To anyone else, his gaze would appear cold and disinterested; this is his greatest weapon. Like an assassin, he observes those around him without being seen. Aside from the glasses, he is so average looking in this stance, that he is able to blend into the crowds with startling ease. If you put him amongst a group of boys from, say, an outer district, he would not stand out in the slightest.
His eyes linger momentarily on the boy from 5, who is walking away from his district partner with a half smirk on his face. The boy is tall and muscular, with the face of a thug: ideal potential Career, really. But, Rio certainly does not like the fact that there was a pack of cigarettes in his front pocket. The smoking habit would make him wheezy, maybe decrease his stamina, and if he has an addiction to the things, he might suffer from withdrawal in the Arena.
The girl from 7 looks pretty threatening too, although it takes Rio's eyes a few laps over the crowd surrounding the girl to realise this. She stands amongst a bevy of other tributes by the plants station, her muscular arms crossed, looking a little awkward to be in such close proximity to those whom she may soon be murdering. Hmm, so is she a killer? Although she is certainly powerfully built, she appears very small, and rather girlish. Her muscles are most likely due to… Rio thought for a moment… Hmph. Lifting trees? Do they do that in District 7?
Rio makes his way back towards the other Careers, with a rather hefty sigh. He doesn't really like any of them, although he can't help but enjoy Winner's optimistic attitude, and doesn't really have anything against Korina, either. She doesn't seem at all unpleasant, simply hungry for approval, particularly from Audrey and Exotica.
The first one he finds is Damien. He's leaning against the side of the Gauntlet- a large, mechanical obstacle course- with his usual grin firmly in place. Upon noticing Rio, his smile widens.
"Hello, Damien," Rio says cautiously, moving to stand beside the taller boy. Rio reaches up, and pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose, as he has a habit of doing when in incommodious situations such as this. He'd rather not be talking to Damien right now, although he's certainly preferable to Exotica, or Audrey. "How are you doing this morning?" He tries to keep his tone polite.
"Oh, here and there," Damien replies, his large, light green eyes coming into focus on Rio. "It's a lovely morning, don't you think?"
Rio pauses for a second; feeling like his head is spinning, he blinks several times. Looking up at the thin, shallow windows near the roof of the Training Hall, Rio takes in the light splashing across the floor and walls. It is artificial, he is almost sure of it; this morning, when looking out of the window of his room in the Training Centre, he had registered that it was raining. The Capitol would never put a window in a room full of hormonal, rebellious teenagers. It is merely there for comfort.
He pushes his glasses up his nose once more. "Hmph. It's raining, last time I checked. The light from that window is blatantly artificial."
Damien pauses for a second, his large eyes shifting towards the window. He tilts his head to the side, as if considering it, and then turns back to Rio. "Well. Somebody's a killjoy." Damien laughs for just a little too long, before stopping abruptly, and walking away without a warning. Rio watches as the other boy strides over to the knives station, pushes his way to the front of the queue, and begins tossing knives. Although his aim is off, and he doesn't seem particularly skilled, the ferocity behind his throws is undeniable.
Raising his eyebrows, Rio turns around, only to almost leap backwards upon finding himself face to face with somebody. He steps backwards, shocked, but stills his pounding heart in time to recognise Exotica standing a few feet away from him, her arm casually wrapped around Korina's shoulders. Korina certainly looks flustered, and seems to be trying to offhandedly move away, but Exotica's grip is firm. There is a triumphant smirk on her face.
"Is there anything you want, Rio?" Exotica says sweetly. Her grip around Korina tightens, and the girl from District 2 flinches. She appears to want to move, but is only staying in place because the older girl expects her too. "Anything at all?"
Rio frowns. Unlike some of the others, he has not fallen under Exotica's spell. "I'm adequate." He murmurs, and cranes up to look over the two girls' heads. He nods at them, eager to get away, and shifts to his right in order to make his escape. There is nothing he wants that Exotica could possibly give him; he knows all too well what she does. The mistress of "hell on District 4", as she has been termed by some, would certainly not keep up her part on any deal she might offer him.
He might not be any good at seeing the best in people, but he definitely understands evil when he sees it.
Patchouli Kevi rifles through the berries, bringing them up to his face one after the other, and looking them over. He dislikes the hustle and bustle of training, having preferred the simple tranquillity of his room upstairs. He'd been reluctantly delighted by the shower and the disgustingly comfortable bed. Although he'd never had much of it himself, he had something of an eye for luxury, due to his occasional thieving from the more illustrious folk of District 10.
Rolling a berry around his fingers, Patch flicks through the handbook with his free hand, checking the pages for a match. When he cannot find one, he frowns, and flicks the berry back onto the table. Looks like I won't be eating any of them, he thinks to himself, gazing distrustfully at the red berry, now abandoned on the table.
Bored of the poisonous plants, he shoots a distrustful look at the boy from District 7- who looks rather bemused by the sudden reaction he has gained- and wanders off towards the other stations. Patch does not know exactly where he is headed, although he'd like to go to the least inhabited station, and looks around. Most of the stations are crowded and busy, and none at all are uninhabited; the girl from District 8 kneels alone by a smouldering fire, looking relatively displeased with her lack of success. There's a strange expression on her face, which he can't quite put his finger on.
Momentarily, Patch considers melting into the crowd, in order to keep away from any particular people, but shrugs to himself; he isn't afraid of the girl. She's rather small, redheaded, and looks like she's fiercely concentrating, with the side of her tongue sticking out of the side of her mouth.
He walks towards the fire-making station, fixing his eyes, instead, on the trainer in charge. Patch nods at the trainer, his stance stiff and unresponsive, and moves around to the side, as far away from the girl from 8 as he can get. Kneeling down, he picks up a handbook from the side. The pages are wrinkled with age, and a dark stain on the top right corner of the page indicates something sinister.
Patch reads through, and sets to work. He snatches up a box of matches, and is about to drop a match onto a pile of dry twigs, when he hears a hiss of shock. Twisting his head around, he looks backwards, to see the girl from District 8 staring at the fire she has just managed to light. It must have flared up in her face, he thinks, which is why she reacted so dramatically. Odd girl, though…
Her eyes are wide and shocked, and Patch swears that he can see the fire reflected in them. He watches her, intrigued, as she scampers away across the room, as fast as her legs can take her. She settles by the Gauntlet, and crosses her arms, gazing back at the fire she had created with her arms crossed in front of her, a childish expression of fear on her face.
Well, there's a crazy one, Patch thinks to himself, as he tries to get his own fire alight.
It is more difficult than he could have imagined, and the matches just don't seem to be working. They singe straight through the thin sticks, and hit the ground with a dry crackle, without doing anything useful whatsoever. He has just finished his sixth match, when he feels eyes upon him, and freezes up.
Patch is used to being stared at. In the gang headquarters, he'd be watched quite regularly: the big guys who guarded the door would rarely let him out of their sight. After his first escape attempt, which had ended in… in an incident, they'd began to watch him without fail, their batons raised, their rifles cocked. Really, Patch is surprised that he hasn't been killed off thus far. And, really, if he wasn't quite such a useful slave, he probably would have been.
But now, when he turns around, he registers that the eyes upon him are more dead than any of the guards'. The boy staring at him is beautiful, so beautiful that Patch's breath almost hitches in his throat. However, there is something strange about him. He is effeminate, almost appearing ambiguous. His bright blue eyes are empty, and cold. He stands on his toes; his feet pointed inwards, and stands as if halfway to falling forward. This appears natural. Patch avoids eye contact, somewhat irritable, and turns back to the fire that he is failing to make.
Why are so many of the tributes this year so creepy? And that's me speaking, so they have to be pretty abnormal. Let's see… a girl who is afraid of fire; a pretty-boy who stares at people; a Career who never stops smiling; and let's not forget the girl from District 6, who seems to have some kind of twitch…
Hey. Maybe I don't stick out so badly, after all. I wonder how many of them are going to go completely insane in the arena… Killing people, not my deal. Not my deal at all. But self-defence, against people who are trying to kill me?
Because nobody wants to die, right? Nobody wants to die?
Next chapter, Spectre, Charlie, Rowan, and Hiroko will probably be the ones with POVs. No promises as of now, but that's what I'm thinking. Hey, please review if you are reading. I know this sounds like begging, but a lot of work goes into these chapters, and I really would appreciate feedback. I'm not saying "GIV MEH 20 REVEWS 4 EVRY CHAPTR OR I WONT UPD8", but reviews are certainly appreciated.
Hope you enjoyed the chapter :D