Chapter Ten: Glitter and Egos
Aura Ollar
Blood falls from his mouth as the sword slashes through his lower lip, also severing the tip of his nose. The sword slashes back and forth, making a sound similar to a pirated copy of The Jabberwocky. All of his limbs are torn off, sent to the opposite sides of the podium as Aurum swings the sword once again. His head goes flying off his shoulders, the blood spraying all over my brother.
"These dummies are too damn realistic." Aurum laughs, dropping the synthetic-blood stained sword on the training mat, glancing at the dismembered training dummy. He rips his slightly damaged black glove off of his left hand, throwing it onto the slightly dirtied floor. He wipes his hands on his cargo pants, tossing his training cap to the side.
"Well, wasn't that fun." Aurum grinned, his wide smile stretching to its limits. I sighed as my brother kicked aside a limb from the training dummy.
"C'mon, Aura, you have to train at some point. Otherwise Dad's gonna whoop your ass."
"You know he isn't. He only beats you."
"Yeah, right. I have tons of memories of him spanking you. Stealing shit out of the cookie jar and such."
"Are you kidding me?"
"Would I kid my little sister?"
"I...you're two minutes older than I am! That doesn't count."
"Oh, really? Well, I always seem to go first. Or is that because I'm a guy, not a girl who spends all of our money talking on the phone." Aurum grins.
"Shut up and give me the damn sword." I smile on the inside, knowing he's never going to change. Aurum kicks the sword across the floor and I catch it, lifting the blade up in one smooth movement. I turn and cut off the arms of the dummy nearest to me. With one last look at Aurum, I stab the sword through the dummy's head, and that's the end of that.
I have a lot of thoughts going through my head about the 100th Hunger Games. About the bullshit surrounding the new President of Panem, Annabelle Snow. Coriolanus died, and that should've been the end of it. But no, they had to bring in an impostor, call him Snow's "long lost brother," and put him in charge of Panem. Well, that didn't last long. The senile old man died of a supposed heart attack. And now Coriolanus' granddaughter is president, with new changes in store. As long as they don't change the Careers, it's fine with me.
Aurum and I have planned out a way to double our riches. It's simple: I win this year, he wins next year. Just like the famous Cashmere and Gloss duo. But there's a problem.
The problem is, this multiple victor thing doesn't sound good. Then again, no set of Games has ever lasted two weeks. The arena's also a problem. It is absolutely gigantic (don't ask how I know) and goes by the name of Alt Prospekt, although most people who know of it call it "The Glade." It's an old District 13 outpost, with nuclear weapons facilities and the whole shebang.
I guess that's how they're going to pull off the multiple victor thing. Except there won't be. Nobody else but I will survive the arena. I'll make sure of that.
Contrary to the other districts' beliefs, Careers get a ton of information about the Games beforehand, since Careers are almost always chosen beforehand. And because of that information, I knew about the hidden weapon in the arena, the deal with the two 13 rebels, and the "aftergame." But I digress, I'm not going to stress myself any further.
Aurum and I walk out of the Training Center, Aurum twirling a knife between his fingers, on the verge of slicing his skin off. But of course, he doesn't. Careers aren't supposed to make mistakes.
It's always fun preparing for the Reapings. I glance around the square, noticing all the watchtowers being set up, along with the huge screen for the Capitol's message and the showing of the Games. More propaganda bullshit, I guess.
I walk up to Fetch, the head Peacekeeper of District 1, who is busy supervising the building of the watchtowers. They're never needed in District 1, but it is standard protocol and the Peacekeepers are required to construct them.
"How's the construction going this year?"
"Not good. What we really need is more construction shit from my District, but that ain't happening."
"Your District?"
"District 2."
"Ah..."
"Well, it's nothing to worry about. We'll still be completed on schedule. But we won't have any time off to watch our Careers train. Especially you, little lady." He winked.
"I know, right? Such an honor."
"Be grateful you aren't one of those shitheads in the...ah...lesser rich Districts."
"Good point. Anyways...I kinda got sidetracked. I have a question."
"Yes?" I leaned forward.
"Any new stuff on the District 13 guys?"
"Not much. The girl's clever though. She's broken out twice, although she's been caught both times. I don't know what the deal is with her, though. I don't see her connection to Mr. Quazi. Him, on the other hand, has a full criminal record from District 8, and he's a spy for District 13.
"Well, I guess the cat's out of the bag with the whole District 13 thing."
"Not like anybody can do much about it. The Capitol's restocked the Peacekeeper staff, and boosted District 5's power to reach over the whole region. The fences are electrified 24/7."
"Seems like overkill."
"Yeah, but it's just to prevent anybody from joining the people with the nukes. It's more of a silent agreement between 13 and the Capitol. I can guess the other Districts have figured that out as well, but I have no way of knowing."
"Snow has to keep it under control, though, right?"
"Yeah, sure..."
I leave Fetch to his job and continue walking across the plaza. On my left, there's a printing machine spewing out small pieces of paper into a large glass bowl labeled "Girls," and I smile knowing that it won't even be needed.
Once I arrive back home, I can see that everyone else is a mess, preparing for the Reapings tomorrow. My younger sister, Aureate, is going through several choices of dresses she may wear tomorrow. My mom is cooking dinner, my dad's still out at the jewelry shop. Aurum is in the bathroom, giving himself a haircut. I shudder.
"Darling!" My mother exclaims. "How did the day go at the training today? I bet it was excellently wonderful! How many points did you and your sister score at the range?"
I sigh. I've given up trying to convince Mom that "the day" and "today" cancel each other out, or that Aureate doesn't go to training with me (she goes with her friends), or that there is no "range." I don't even know what a range is.
Aureate is the third triplet. Aurum is the oldest (by two minutes), I'm in the middle, and Aureate is three minutes younger than I am. But I never bug her about it the way Aurum gloats about his "elderness." He annoys me to no end, but he's my brother.
I'm sixteen, with golden blonde hair that all three of us share, along with our bright green eyes. This year, I'll be entering the Games, the next year Aurum, and after that Aureate. I decided to take the biggest risk with the Quarter Quell. And now I learn that "the rules have been altered" and that supposedly more than one tribute can survive if they make it to two weeks. But unless I remember wrong, only the first few Games ever made it to that length, when kids were still not used to the fact of murdering each other. Well, it must have sucked back then.
But I'm prepared for the two weeks in the arena. I'm spending as much time as my schedule allows at the training center. Mom continues making dinner, and I try to blot out her confused words as I walk through the elaborately decorated hallways of our home to my room. I've pretty much gotten everything I ever wanted, so I immediately hop on my laptop and search up the current styles in the Capitol.
One hairdo catches my eye: a simple but effective one-sided braid. It's famous from some past tribute, and I immediately grab my tools, including my makeup and other cosmetics. The time passes by as I slowly straighten out my hair and transform its normally pretty appearance into something much more beautiful. Aurum comes in a few times, asking about which tie he should wear, and I tell him it doesn't even matter, he won't be up on the stage. He grins.
Not much later, Mom calls us to dinner, which happens to be some large bird garnished with some fancy spices and what looks like radishes. It's a typical District 1 dinner.
As we eat, my mind wanders, and I wonder about how the Reapings tomorrow will turn out. I wonder who the male tribute will be, and if it'll be easy for me to kill him, if the opportunity arises. So many different thoughts are swirling through my head, so many that I don't even hear Mom's question.
"Huh?" I ask. Aurum snickers. Mom sighs.
"Aura, I asked how you think the Reapings are going to go tomorrow."
"Oh. Yeah, well that's what I was just thinking about. There's no decided male tribute, so I guess a bunch of guys are going to compete for the honor of being the tribute."
"I don't know either. Hey, be glad none of the Lyres can go anymore." Aurum grins.
"Lyres?"
"Katherine and Cathy. Cathy won two years ago, remember?" I think back to the 98th Games. Cathy Lyre killed the Career Pack in their sleep, and that pretty much assured her victory.
"Yeah, but I'm talking about guys. You all know I'm the female tribute." Mom smiles.
"Alright, fine, I won't tell you what I was going to." Aurum mutters.
"What?" I ask.
"Nevermind."
"I hope Connor Fayme's the male tribute." Aureate pipes up.
"Fuck him."
"Aurum, language!" Mom glares at him, and he shuts up.
"Why Connor Fayme? It's not like he'll be able to win." I smile.
"Because you need someone hot to help our District with sponsors."
"Oh, so I'm not hot?" I scoff. "Aureate, I thought you were nicer." She sticks her tongue out at me.
The small talk at the dinner table pretty much ends after that, just Aureate and I teasing each other. Dad gets home late, stuck at the office because of new Capitol demands.
"You will not believe some of the orders people fill out." He tells me. When I ask, he describes tons of different class rings, necklaces, bracelets, and the like studded with jewels and gold plates. Usually the Capitol sucks at fashion, but I perk up when he mentions a ring embedded with an azure diamond.
"Azure diamond? Any way I could get one of them?" I ask. Dad chuckles.
"We'll see, Aura. Maybe for your birthday. In the meantime, how about you set out your outfit for the Reapings?"
"Yeah, Dad. I'll do it now." He smiles and claps me on the back, like he does with Aurum. It kind of hurts.
"Good luck, sweetie."
"Thanks, Dad." He wanders off to the kitchen, probably to grab something to eat before he falls into bed.
I go back to my room, glancing at the scattered clothes and cosmetics on my floor.
I look through my closet, hoping to see an obvious choice for the Reapings, but nothing seems to appeal to me. I move around the random crap in my closet, but I still find nothing. "I'll get it tomorrow." I mutter to myself. Kicking aside a few ribbons, I fall into my bed, not even caring to turn the lights out before I start to fall asleep.
It feels like the day before Christmas, and I just can't wait for the Games to begin.
Author's Note: Sorry for the unexpected summer break, I started it and it just kept going and going. But then August started and so did my writing, once again. Only one more chapter til the Reapings, and by then I'll definitely have my writing back in check. And for the Americans, good luck with school!