Trust.
"You can fool some of the people all of the time, and all of the people some of the time, but you can not fool all of the people all of the time." - Abraham Lincoln
Tatum Caville, District Six Female.
I join the entourage gathered round the kitchen table; mentors and escort on one side, and Ward and I paired up on the other. I pretend to ignore the stares sent my way, Giselle the dopey Capitolite mainly glaring in my direction.
I don't care, Giselle. I don't care if my hair is a mess, if my eyes are red and cheeks tear-stained. Maybe it's because I'm a tribute... maybe because I know I'm going to die.
I bottle this all up and keep a grim face, staring at a random bread roll on the verge of tipping from an overfilled bowl. Idle chit-chat breaks the silence which I'm thankful for, the awkwardness slowly starts to slip at a gradual pace and I begin my own breakfast.
If there's one thing I can appreciate about who I'm with, it's the fact I'm left alone by most of the party. Ward rarely speaks unless a question is directed his way, save for a few general comments. Morgan is a peaceful loon, but the tranquility she transmits is serene, in the midst of this anger and confusion she gives me a sense of normalcy. Denley is childish but he's loyal to Ward and ignores me out of duty to his own tribute. It's Giselle that makes my blood boil, my heart pulsate and head throb with agony as I fight the harshness I want to throw at her.
If I look bad, like I do this very second, she'll let me know about it. The woman has no boundaries, she feeds on breaking me down and I refuse to give her that satisfaction. She can see the results of tears, but she'll never see them fall.
"I hope today you'll seek someone to partner up with, Tatum." Giselle's voice grates on my ears and I clench my fists, teeth gritting. Please, Giselle. Please leave me alone.
I look up at her and try to send this message through the narrowing of my eyes. She only sighs and runs a hand through her cotton candy hair. "I'm sure Ward wouldn't mind you joining with him and Cindy."
"Cynder, his name is Cynder." Ward mumbles, turning the spoon in his porridge. I bite back a laugh at that, just because Giselle sends me raging doesn't mean I don't appreciate these moments, the moments when I can smile. I nudge Ward with my elbow. He doesn't look up at me but he's worked me out by now. He knows I'm smiling at him through such a simple gesture.
"Ward already said yesterday that his alliance is full. If I'm going to have an alliance, it won't be with them. I respect his choice." Unlike you Giselle, you just want to throw yourself into any situation you can get your polished little hands on.
I open my mouth, venom building up and ready to scream at her, when I feel the same bump in my arm. Ward stares out the corners of his eyes at me, barely twisting his body in my direction. At that moment, the fire dulls down and I exhale, the anger pouring out of me. I can't let them get to me, not now, not if I want to make it far.
I'm just scared... so scared. And no one seems to care about that, they all just smile and act like life is happy and something to cheer about. Morgan and Denley got to hold onto their lives, I could lose mine, and for me to live Ward has to die. I like Ward, and those other tributes... as hard as it is to connect with them, or understand why some of them are so open and free about themselves, I don't want to kill them. I can't kill them.
They're people, teenagers. Like me... like me...
The silence settles again, this time I bite my tongue and hold back the beginning of a new wave of tears. All they see is my anger at them, Giselle screeching at me anytime I backchat her or speak my mind, but they barely see this side to me. Except my red eyes, they don't know. Morgan's too oblivious, Giselle too uptight, Denley too ignorant.
What's my humanity compared to entertainment?
"May I be excused?" my voice comes out weak and fazes out at the end of the question. Great Tatum, show her what she wants. Morgan smiles at me calmly and nods her head, but it's Giselle's whose face goes a shade matching her hair.
"I think not young lady, you haven't finished breakfast and we have much to discuss."
Don't Tatum, don't. Anger isn't you, you think it is, you use it to protect you... but it isn't. It isn't.
"Bite me!" I throw my bowl on the floor and push my chair back. It shatters immediately, my breakfast pooling out in a grainy puddle of tasty mush. Giselle screams but I ignore that, her agonizing pitch a tickle in my ear. I place a hand on Ward's shoulder for a split second and run. There's no need, but I run anyway. The faster I get away from them all, the better.
"Tatum!" Giselle's final shout cuts off when my door slams into the frame. It shudders once before going still, the noise from breakfast now completely gone, only the screaming in my head circling round and round, hurting me. I grab my head and throw myself onto my mattress, sinking into the sheets.
I don't like this feeling, the feeling of wanting to rip apart Giselle, not knowing when I'm going to die but knowing it will happen, the anger of no one understanding, pretending like this isn't happening. All off it's a whirlwind inside my brain and there's not one thing I can do to stop it, either death... or victory. And I doubt victory even stops this.
I feel around the sheet, prodding the wet patch and sigh into the warm fabric. I'm fed up of this, even before I was reaped I was an emotional wreck, never knowing how to act or how to stop what I was doing. The Games are the personification of a lack of control, a journey that is now my fate, but a journey I can't know the outcome of. I can guess, the odds are pretty much in favour of the same consequence. But there's the alternative, a shred of a possibility.
If I can hold onto that, is that enough?
Giselle might be right about one thing, for me to gain support and have someone to fight this battle with, I can't tear them apart before I've even got to speak to them. I'll never piece back together how I used to be, when it was easy and hard all meshed into one. But... maybe I can do something right, maybe I can find someone.
Ward's not a possibility, so I need someone else. Company could calm me down, and I liked the peace Morgan gave me, it gave me time to think. Giselle won't get my thanks but maybe I can take her advice... there might be hope for me yet.
Alistair Tempest, District One Male.
Calliope finishes tying the knot in the rope and steps back to admire her work. I grin proudly at it and watch her change the way she stands, pulling the knife from her belt and holding it steady. She's so good at everything, I wish I could be more like her.
"The trick Alistair is to move with the knife, curve your body and follow through quickly. Hesitation can knock your aim off a few inches and your target could get away, or leave with only a minor injury." I nod eagerly at this and pick my own knife from the assortment laid out. Calliope seems off-putted by the dummies already set up for us and wanted to try and create her own, more realistic scenario. She set the trap, caught the dummy and now here it is, hanging for our attention.
"Like this?" I hold out my hand and shove it in her face. She bats it away quickly and stares at me, wide-eyed. For a second my heart plummets and my smile drops completely. "Calli', I'm sor-"
She grins again, a gentle smirk barely noticeable but a smile nonetheless. "Just be careful, watch the knife at all times, you nearly got me in the eye."
I nod and try to lock away the disappointment squirming inside of me. Calliope straightens her back and I copy it, holding my knife now at a more reasonable and safer angle. She said it was best we practiced long range because neither of us had that much experience as opposed to close combat. I haven't had the most experience in anything but I've learnt enough, volunteering would have been silly if I didn't know what I was doing after all.
Calliope's an enigma, one minute she's with me and smiling, and the next she's glaring over at the others in our gang and all of that is wiped clean. I've made it my mission to lighten her up and be the friend she probably never had. I've seen it in a lot of people, that blank, glossed-over expression in their eyes. People get that when they've been hurt or don't trust the world around them. I conquered as much of my own personal demons as I could and here I am: stupidly grinning at a harsh world. Calliope's a friend, I just want her to like me.
"Do you want me to go first?" I blink up at her and see her eyes staring into mine, waiting. I shake my head, banishing all thoughts and quickly nod. "Sure, sure go ahead." I gesture my hand at the dummy which she quickly positions herself in front.
She told me to watch carefully so I do, I watch as best as I can. Her fingers are so dainty wrapped round that knife, she's such a petite girl, it's a wonder how these types of people turn out to be so well done with handling such deadly items. The knife leaves her fingers with a whistle and it plummets into the dummy's left shoulder-blade.
I hear the curse muffled by the other conversations going on, but it's there all the same. She looks at me and attempts to smile but it comes out wonky, her lips twisted in the wrong way and I bolt towards her.
"Don't worry Calli', we've only just started."
She shakes her head and pulls out another knife. "I need to get this right, I need to."
"It was good, real good. That would cause some serious pain, right?" I look over at the knife embedded in the fabric with the red cotton poking out through the tear. Yeah, that would hurt, it would hurt a lot.
"I'm not in this for causing pain Alistair." Her voice has grown more serious. I notice it and quickly adjust my own demeanor. Araceli my sister always told me I couldn't handle the different sides to a person's personality, but I'm learning, I'm doing my best for Calliope. I grip onto her shoulder and squeeze it as comfortingly as I can.
"Don't worry, neither am I. Let's try again, huh?"
The frown slowly fades, replaced by the same stoic expression she usually wears when she's thinking hard. The knife twitches in her hand again and I allow her to have another try. I just want her to be happy with herself, if that means I don't get any practice in then so be it. Behind the rafter where the dummy hangs in the air and a few more stations, I see Megaera with Matteo and Saskia. I like them, they seem friendly but strong enough. They always teach you at training that strength is important.
I never quite understood though when they said betrayal within the career pack was a necessary part of the entertainment side to the Games. People love the backstabbing within an alliance. I don't see that in these people. Calliope doesn't want to cause pain as she said, she just wants to win. So do I, and I'm not really a fan of death and all that scary stuff.
Megaera only ever smiles, she's too friendly. Matteo, too chatty. Saskia's a bit difficult to work out, she gets angry sometimes but then acts so kind the next minute. No, we're not enemies, we're friends. Or at least, companions.
This year it won't work out like other years, we're different.
I hear a soft round of applause and look up again at the dummy. This time a blade handle protrudes from the middle of the throat, red pouring down profusely from the gash. Calliope now smiles properly, revealing a side I really enjoy seeing. That person would be dead instantly without much pain, exactly what she was going for. A quick, easy kill.
I cheer for her and give her a quick hug which she, somewhat slowly, reciprocates. "Well done Calli', see, second try as well! You're a natural!"
"What if it was luck?" The smile twitches a second but no, no I won't let her do that. I shake my head and turn her around to face me, she looks at me and tilts her head back in the direction of the hanging dummy.
"You did it, don't put yourself down. Maybe I should have taken up the offer of leader, then you might listen to me when I tell you you're good, better than good in fact."
Her fist gently collides with my shoulder and she steps back from me, she wanders over to the dummy and plucks the knives from the material and puts them back where they came from.
"Your turn Alli'," she jokes, smiling at me. I chuckle brightly and grip onto my knife. I can't remember exactly how she stood, and if I miss I miss. But whatever, she did it and I'm proud. All I want is for people to stop hating themselves, for them to just accept what they have and smile about it.
The knife leaves my fingertips quickly, without hesitation like she said. It feels good to see it hit the chest, a perfect kill.
Raven Stillman, District Twelve Male.
The curved blade of the sickle plummets into the dummy's stomach. Immediately, white cotton mixed with different tinges of red poke out from the rip, though nothing falls. I grimace and pull harder, hesitating only just as the blade continues to tear through. The handle is rough in my hands. I let out a quick, sharp breath and with one final exertion of my limited muscles, I follow it through and disembowel the dummy.
The cotton pours from the gash and falls to the ground. I frown at the sight, a shudder traveling from the tip of my spine to the base. Is this how it's going to be trying to kill someone? Is it this hard to stab a human being? My fingers click when I unwrap them from the sickle and let it drop to the ground with a clatter, the cotton doing nothing to cushion the impact. The trainer sighs when I begin to walk off quickly, apology dying before I can let it out. I hate to be irritating and make a mess, but the thoughts building up in my head, the images... it's too much for me to control right now.
Kitty's eyes fall on mine when I pass her, the spear clutched between her fingers. The shaft is nearly as tall as her, and the second I attempt a smile, it nearly slips through and she cries out to catch it. A blush warms her cheeks and she diverts her gaze away from me. Always the same thing with her, always looking away and acting like I don't exist.
Am I that incompetent? I'm the youngest here sure, but youth doesn't equate to immediate elimination, at least, not if I can do something. And that's what I'm trying to do here, train to better myself. Learning skills is difficult and depending on what it is I'm doing, it can be fun, so hopefully in these last two days I can learn something that will help when I go into the Arena. I was hoping Kitty would join me though, my first offer hit a blank wall, a small frown and then a closed door. She wants nothing to do with me... why? I'm not a lost cause.
Maybe she just wants to go alone in the Arena. That sort of mindset doesn't really sit well with me, the idea of no company, not a friendly face or a hello to greet you in the morning. I understand the outcome of this, how everyone so alive and kicking this very minute will be weeded out, numbers dwindling until only one makes it through. I'm young, not naïve, I know the process of pain and suffering. But a friend before you die sounds comforting. And I can't seem to find one, because everyone judges me on skills they imagine I don't have, and my height and stature.
I can't even build up the courage to impress them. My hellos meeting empty spaces, the tribute's back retreating from me. Maybe it's difficult for me to make a good first impression, but I need the actual chance. Why won't Kitty give me that?
I sit down slowly at the station I've spent most of my time at. There are several stations dedicated to survival skills, a lot to do with nature specifically. Apparently you can guess the Arena from what they show down here, but so far everything I've reported back to Callan hasn't helped point out what it could be. The only thing missing is some sort of swimming facility, so he says it can't be water-based. Apart from that though, it could be anything.
These plants may not even be in the Arena. Perhaps the only thing I can actually do, completely wasted when the gong sounds.
"Back again kid?" The gruff man chuckles lowly and passes me the handbook. Inside are the intricate drawings of every single plant known to Panem's finest and brightest. The man who runs this station said there are other devices I could use to look through each plant, quicker and much more advanced in technology. But I like this journal, it's authentic and brings a sense of home. Twelve had trees peeking in the background, the Seam set in the dusty, coal air but nature there on the horizon. I always wanted to explore the unknown.
"Mind if I sit here Raven?"
The voice startles me, a tiny shriek escaping my lips which I muffle with the pages of the book. Immediately my brain kicks into overdrive, a thousand and one words circling and filing through my mind: what to say, how to act, why whoever is here is actually coming up to me.
Nothing comes out though except a squeak and a stutter.
"I'll take that as a yes." The speaker sits next to me and the Trainer passes him his own, more technological source of information. It's sleek and silver, but not what my focus is on now. I blink and stare into the calm eyes of the boy from Seven.
He smiles and I try to calm myself, panic still set in my stomach but I'm slowly relaxing. He flicks through the device, each page changing with a single swipe of his finger on the screen. Then he places it onto his lap and grins up at me again.
"I'm Graeden Peltz, District Seven." He extends a hand. I blanch at it for a second, again a million ways I could go about this burning through my mind. My fingers open and close but there's really only one way, the polite way, to do this.
"Raven Stillman," I shake his hand quickly and release it a second later. "District Twelve."
He seems content with that and gestures towards the array of plant leaves scattered on the mat. "You good with this stuff then? Nature, I mean."
I shrug my shoulders. Not really, no. My stomach deflates, the budding hope of an alliance fazing out. Is this why he came over, because he thought I was competent in something he maybe needed help in? Have I already ruined a potential alliance before I've said more than five words to him?
"I'm from Seven but we know more about cutting down trees than using the leaves for a different purpose. I'm told you can kill someone with the right plant, or use it for medicine. Fascinating, I think."
I continue to nod and let him talk. He gives a speech or something about his thoughts, and I find it fascinating the way he then suddenly veers off into his life, then the reaping, then Tirzah his District partner and the events leading up to today. It goes so quickly, but it's entrancing. The smile never leaves his face, a permanent symbol of his optimism. The fact he's telling me all this... does it mean...
"Do you want to be allies?" I blurt out without thinking. His voice cuts off, the sentence dying out. I clap a hand round my mouth. No, no, no. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt. I-I." I continue to stutter and feel everything collapsing.
No, stupid Raven. No wonder Kitty doesn't want you, or anybody else. Graeden didn't come here to ask for an alliance, he just wants someone to talk to. Nobody wants me, nobody would ever want me. I'm destined to be a bloodbath, a stain on the floor, a name forgotten-
"I'd love to."
What...? Another noise escapes my lip, not a sentence or a word, just a mumble of something. Graeden bursts out laughing and takes the book from my hands, placing it down gently next to his own device.
"I don't care if you're a little bit shy, or you're young, or you don't know plants or how to wield a sword. None of that matters to me. I want to be your ally, Raven."
And just like that, everything flips round. Maybe I can actually do this, maybe Graeden's given me the chance to win, not die in the bloodbath. An ally... a friend maybe. All I want is someone, and I wasn't even the one to initiate contact. Maybe things aren't as bad as they seem, maybe I can go home.
Matteo Dallas, District Four Male.
"Tallest one you got." The petite lady nods and runs her hand along the rack of spears, each one making a different sound when her long nails tickle the wood. When her hand reaches one near the very end, she eyes the sinister point jutting high to the ceiling and then pulls it from the rack. She passes it over and I hold onto it before it can fall over and gain the attention of everyone else.
"Woah, didn't know they made spears this big." The shaft is smooth, the grip polished and fits perfectly in my hands. I wrap my fingers round tightly, though with enough room for a smooth delivery. "Thank you very much." I smile warmly at the trainer and she blushes, turning back to talk to another tribute calling out to her.
Inwardly, I feel pride radiate and soak in its warmth. For someone like me with such a lack of experience, it's not as difficult as I thought it would be playing up the role of being the career everybody wants to be and everybody fears. Ladies like the curvy little trainer who just handled my request seem to love it, and people like my mentor only try to do their best to throw around what they know in hopes of showing they're better than me.
At the end of the day, not one person is alike and it's funny watching them react to what I say and how I say it. If they're a downer, a compliment can coax them out their shells, if they're looking for comfort a strong shoulder to cry on is ideal, and if they're looking for someone to laugh with I'm there.
"Ever practiced with a real one?" Megaera quips, beaming at me when I reach her and Saskia. The younger girl looks away the moment I smirk down at her. She pretends not to care about me and Megaera, but we all know she's either jealous or hiding something. No one with her set of skills and attitude steps down so quickly from leading. And whilst I may not have the talent to support my claim as a career, I have the right way of running an alliance. I just hope Megaera knows what she's doing, a smile doesn't always work with everyone. Look at Calliope.
"Nothing fake about the spears I've thrown Meg, I'm the real deal." I wink and she only laughs, throwing her head back and pulling her own weapon to her chest. Almost protectively, you might say. "Let's see if you live up to that."
My throat constricts at that, but it's easy to mask and I only sidle up closer to her until we reach the target range. Saskia walks behind us, again staying out of the conversation whilst her eyes trail over each of the tributes closest to the stations in our nearby vicinity. Mysteries are difficult to interpret and work with, Saskia needs to either open up or at least show a true colour to this falseness she exudes. I'm not in the business of using people to hurt them, but in this particular scenario there's no real choice around it.
Real careers have their advantages in knives and swords, the business I run gives me my own set of skills I can put to use. We'll see which is more useful, I'd like to think if I can at least hold a spear, I stand a good shot.
"I wish those two would stop cuddling and join us." Meg tips her head in the pair from One's general direction. She slowly positions herself in front of the target and hoists the spear over her shoulder, meanwhilst I quickly crane my head to look over at them. Calliope made a mistake not choosing me, but I won't hold it against her. The concept of vengeance is a tad futile in my humble opinion. Alistair though, I like him. The guy's a nutcase, always smiling and then going off in a daydream, but he's a good sport.
Nearly gave us all a heart attack when it was suggested he lead, but a fun guy all the same. It'll be sad when he dies, people like him don't make it very far.
"Furthest from the target buys lunch," Megaera laughs, pulling back her arm. I shake my head and roll my eyes. Saskia throws her own spear, ignoring both of us completely.
"Lunch is free here, one of the perks of being a tribute."
"Then I'll think of something else." The spear leaves her hand almost instantaneously, the brown blurs before it connects with a loud thud that resonates all the way down to us. Megaera cheers the moment the shaft settles and we see the point clearly embedded within the bull's-eye. Oh, shit.
"Watch and learn kiddos," I stride up as confidently as I can, pretending not to feel that sense of what's-the-point taking over. Might as well humour her, if I fail, I'll just smile and act pretty like she does. I know people, Megaera's hair tossing and grinning hides something, might as well play it up how she wants and continue like I have no idea. The Capitol wants a show after all.
When I throw my own spear at the next target, I don't do quite so well. In fact, not well at all. The fourth ring is punctured with the pointed end and Megaera bursts out in a fit of cackles, like some sort of deranged crone. Saskia even smiles at that and I see her spear sticking out the second ring.
I have trained with spears before, that's one thing I didn't lie about. But they were crude, makeshift sticks crafted with the cheapest material around. I'm not used to these fancy polearms made of whatever designer wood the Capitol gets from its lumberyards in Seven.
"Well girls, looks like I'm buying lunch." I turn around and sigh dramatically, conceding to defeat in a way that doesn't let down my guard. My mind continues to tell itself off even when we venture from this station to regroup with Calliope and Alistair. That wasn't good enough, in fact apart from missing the target completely it was pretty much the display of an outer-district tribute whose had no training whatsoever.
If I'm going to be taken seriously as a real contender... if I'm going to convince others as well as myself that I have a chance, I can't do that again. I need to be in control of myself and score right, do what's required of me to a skill level nearing people like Megaera.
You'll get better Matteo, everyone has it in them.
I hope I'm right, otherwise... otherwise this all goes wrong. Otherwise I die.
Davin Carrick, District Eight Male.
The blows come quick, organised and direct. The trainer grins at me, licks his lips and shoots straight for my face. Almost on instinct, I shriek and wrap my own arms round my cheeks to protect me. The second his hands barely come into contact with mine, they drop down and I peek between my fingers.
"Impressive," he retorts, sarcastically. I pull my arms away from my face and smile brightly, putting strength into holding back a blush. Oh well, I suppose not everyone can be good at fighting.
"Lucky you held back, I was about to unleash my ultimate form."
He cocks an eyebrow and picks up a roster, ticking off something. Whatever it is, for once I don't pry and turn to face Celene. She stares at me giddily, waiting for her time. I like Celene, she reminds me of Azara, so upbeat and lively. Sure she was so depressed yesterday after her supposed ally ditched her, but there I was, Mr Rebound ready to scoop her up and welcome into the best alliance around.
Sure it's just me, but... whatever, it's a good alliance.
"Oh Davin, you're so funny." she latches onto my arm like a little puppy, fussing around me. I appreciate the attention, maybe it's a little much but Celene is adorable and I enjoy that. She stares at the trainer expectantly, waiting for him to take notice of her and call her forwards. The moment he turns and strides off towards a gang of Peacekeepers guarding a side entrance, Celene's grip lessens and I feel the disappointment radiating from her.
"But I wanted a turn," she sulks, lip trembling. How dare he, what a mean bastard!
"Hey, it's rude to leave a girl hanging!" He looks over at me and blushes, his bodyguards laughing behind him under their cute little outfits. The pair from Nine laugh awkwardly from where they stand and I salute them, eliciting more laughs. I like it when I make people laugh, even Celene lightens up gradually and clings onto me again. We link arms and glide away, stomping our feet against the polished floor towards another station.
Admittedly weapons are a scary idea, killing even more so. The idea of blood makes me tremble at the knees, dirt and all that nonsense a prospect that leaves me sick to the stomach. It's a real shame someone like me was reaped, realistically there's not much hope for me, but maybe the Capitol will love me for me and pour in all their money to save my sorry hide. Doesn't mean I can't have fun on the journey though!
"Where to my fair maiden?" Celene shrugs her shoulders and we continue to pace around. All the surrounding stations are a bit too much for me, various blades pointing out of their little containers, arrows stuck into their targets and that rather large menacing pack situated at the back of the room. Lucky for me, Celene prefers painting to fighting, though getting sweaty back there was a bit of fun. Even if I couldn't do much except hide my face.
Can't damage the one weapon I have, my looks are killer!
I laugh brightly and Celene joins on like it's something infectious. The majority of these other sad souls aren't so jolly, the girl from Ten is a spectacle in itself, lighting up her way. Too bad she found her own alliance with the girl from Three. Maybe we need someone like her, a depressed kid to brighten up.
"I have an idea, fancy another friend?"
Celene doesn't quite understand my means until I point at the male from Ten who cuts weakly at a dummy. The knife in his hand barely reaches the fabric the way he holds it. He's not a fighter it seems. Good, these people are easier to talk to.
Neither of us do well in masking our footsteps, silence not really my forte. The kid picks up our presence before we've even reached the rack of knives. His arm hangs limper than it was a second ago and he turns to face us, eyes widening at the pair of us.
"Do I have something on my face?" I poke my nose and giggle, Celene already trying to draw the boy in. He shakes his head slowly and raises an eyebrow. The knife clatters to the ground by his feet and he crosses his arms. Something tells me he's an impatient fella, better get straight to the point then.
"The name's Davin, this chick is Celene," I jab a thumb in Celene's direction who only continues to chuckle to herself, bouncing on the spot.
"Is there something in the water? What is it with you people..." Although his voice is cutting, a smirk replaces the cold emptiness and I mirror it.
"What do you mean Alton?" Celene puts in before I can gather up some response. So his name is Alton? Pretty.
"Have you seen my District partner Raelyn?"
"Chicken girl?" I look over in her general direction and nod my head. She's pulling along the girl from Three who sullenly stares around, face almost like Alton's here when we arrived. Celene makes the same animal impression we heard coming from their Chariot and Alton sighs, slapping his hands against his legs.
"Yeah, our stylists were idiots okay."
"I thought it was pretty creative," I say, stepping closer. "Who knew feathers could be sexy."
He goes a complete shade of dark red, my intention completely. I close the gap and wrap an arm round his shoulder, leaving Celene standing by his other side. We're probably too close but I've never understood boundaries, don't need 'em.
"We'd like to invite you to join our crew, Alton."
He looks between the pair of us, then trailing off to something in the distance. I get the sense he's thinking and I give him a moment before nudging him in the side. If he wants this, he wants this. If he doesn't, I guess we've overstayed our welcome.
"I turned down Raelyn because I didn't understand why she smiled so much."
So he's one of those people. Variety is good though, keeps things interesting. We can't all bounce around like we're on drugs or something.
"Smiling is good for the soul." I place a hand to my heart and Celene mirrors me. She's so cute, maybe Alton can learn a thing or two. He looks back over at Celene again, before settling on me. There's no official leader for this alliance but it's safe to say Celene looks to me for guidance and approval.
"I didn't think someone like Raelyn could find an ally, I didn't know people could put up with what she did. But you two have each other, so I guess what I'm saying is..." he mumbles awkwardly, last words dying out. Celene cheers out loud though and I squeeze him into my side.
"Welcome to the most badass crew around." Alton blushes again and actually... smiles. "We'll tear that Arena apart."
Sloan Ryker, District Eleven Male.
"Why don't you two team up if neither of you have anyone?" Eaton prods around at his chicken leg, disregarding the sheer amount of sustenance he has at his fingertips. I frown and look down at my plate, nearly empty save for a few drops of grease and sloppy vegetables. I don't like waste but Eaton's a victor now, he's surpassed the life in Eleven most of us lead.
Sabrina looks at me awkwardly, I catch her and lock eye contact which only sends her staring the opposite direction in a matter of seconds. She's an interesting girl, I enjoy the fact she's so silent because it doesn't make it so difficult attempting a conversation with her. I can satisfy my own curiosity about what she's thinking without fear of drowning in my classic social ineptness.
"I think it's safe to say neither of us are willing to trust the other." I state, chewing on the last bit of broccoli I have on my plate. Eaton sighs and sips from his cup of coffee. His eyes flicker once over to Sabrina who is doing her very best to start under the radar. If only she recognised the fact her silence makes her the stand out in the room. I wonder how far I can push her before she calls me out?
"Both of you are stupid not to have an ally in this, the Hunger Games aren't a joke." My mind flashes back for a brief moment on Eaton's Games, a standard, no-fuss Games that was rather unremarkable. I took it upon myself to note down certain strategies tributes adopted and general ways the victors got to their final spot of survival. Eaton's wasn't wholly luck, but he wasn't skilled either.
It's hard for me to take his advice when I have my own plans on how to do this. Each Games is different after all, what makes his idea better than mine? The unpredictability is what I'm trying to prepare for, he's still stuck in his own Arena.
"I know they aren't a joke." I pass my plate politely over to the Avox who hurriedly collects cleaned crockery. Sabrina passes her a cup and resumes twiddling her thumbs, playing footsies with her own feet. "A friend isn't necessary."
"I never said anything about friends, if anything friends are stupid, an ideal only the weak tributes cling to. But no one makes it very far alone, company can be good, loneliness can kill."
I smirk at that which only agitates him further. Eaton scoffs at me like I'm ludicrous in my beliefs, like I need him. I'm not useless, for him to act like I am is his own fault, his own misconception. There's not much to Eaton left for me to work out, if anything his presence only sets to annoy me further. We match each other in that respect, I suppose.
"Have you actually met your fellow Victors, watched any of their Games?" I ask inquisitively, trying to hide the momentary joy this encounter is giving me. I'm not trying to outsmart him, merely show him I'm capable enough.
"O-Of course I have, I'm friends with most of them." Sabrina shuffles next to me and I focus on the smile I can see. It's hidden from Eaton and should be hidden from me, she doesn't notice me looking and continues to silently laugh to herself. She enjoys this as much as I do, and as much as laying low is easier for me, there's a certain degree of pleasure I amount from such situations.
"Then you'll know Eaton, quite a few of them never had a single ally. In fact the idea of alliances is a fairly new concept."
He stares at me, jaw trembling. I wipe the smile off from my face and cover it with a mask of indifference. When his eyes narrow and lips purse, I shrug my shoulders and bite into a stick of celery.
"I like to pay attention to whatever I can get my hands on that will help me. Allies have their benefits I'm sure, but they also have their drawbacks-"
"-similar to being alone," he interjects. I nod my head, reserved to accepting the fact I won't get through to him. No one here is perfect, we all could use a little help here and there but I'm going into that Arena alone based on who the other tributes are. There are the careers, the standard pack obsessed with their image. Then the alliances building up based on companionship. Ward and Cynder are interesting, the most likely pairing for me to join but one I can't put myself into.
Sabrina has the right idea, though I'm still interested in her reasoning behind such a decision. Maybe it's similar to mine, maybe she sees herself faring better if there isn't anyone to hold her back. Connection can kill, after all. I don't want that on my conscience.
"So you two are adamant on having no allies, not a single one?" Eaton's hands have relaxed to his side now and his face wipes clean of any anger or dismay at our decision. I think for now his resignation is a blessing, brief, but appreciated. Sabrina now looks up and stares over at me, then at him.
"I haven't got a problem with Sloan, I haven't," she glances over at me again quickly and smiles. "But I just can't put myself in the position of having to hurt someone I might potentially bond with. I can't..."
So her reasoning is similar. Granted I'm fairly intrigued in my fellow tributes and why they think the way they think, but I can't always get what I want. Sabrina is the closest person I have to a memory of home, Eaton lost now from Eleven's ways and living his life as a Hunger Games' victor. I won't ally with her, but between us maybe we can come up with some sort of agreement, indirectly we can help one another.
"We're not in an alliance. But I won't hurt her, she's the one person I won't kill."
In our past lives in Eleven, that might sound awful. In this life though, it's the closest thing you have to friendship with someone you aren't teaming up with. Sabrina appreciates this and smiles at me, Eaton opens his mouth but closes it. A wise decision.
"If that's all for tonight, I'm off to bed."
I don't wait for a response, neither of them will have one. I resign to my bedroom swiftly and get under my covers. For a while I stare up at the ceiling, contemplating everything. I'm not content with this, what fate has decided for me. And what I hate the most is there's nothing I can do to make it more interesting, make it more exciting for myself. There's no sense of excitement in killing other people, I'm not a monster.
If I want that sense of secretive freedom I had in Eleven, I need to get back home. Killing is the only way for that to come true, so I'll do it. I won't like, but it won't stop me. I enjoy my life, I intend to keep it.
Some more alliances, still a couple to go. Those confirmed so far (including last chapter) are:
The Careers (excluding Lochlan)
Ada and Raelyn
Cynder and Ward
Celene, Davin and Alton
Graeden and Raven
Now that every tribute has had a POV, I have put a poll up on my profile. The results don't have influence over anything but I'm interested to see who are favourites etc. so go over and vote, results will be posted alongside next chapter :)
Early update, mainly because the last one was late and I felt like getting to this sooner rather than later and realising another chapter would be late. Though the next one will be unfortunately, weekend and beginning of next week I will be busy with friends so I don't know when I'll be able to get something out. Hopefully the wait won't be too long.
Favourite out of these six and why?
Now that every tribute has appeared, bias aside for your own tribute, who out of everyone is your one favourite so far?
Anyway, remember to vote on the poll and if you can, leave a review, reviews make me happy :P See y'all next chapter!