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~~(O)(O)(O)(O)(O)(O)(O)~~
Author's Notes:
Triage: I'm the other writer of this wild fic. Thank you to all the reviews we've been receiving, and secondly, I just wanted everyone to be aware that I do have a FFN account. It is Triage the Potterfan. Just a warning, this one is a doozy. Happy reading.
Zevoros: Special thanks to Evie Rose and Team Shadow for betaing! Additional thanks to CragmiteBlaster.
Penelope's Web
Chapter 2
Knives on all Sides
The victors all nodded and they all turned their attention to the large television against the wall in the middle of the carriage, which began to play. An upbeat tune played in the background, typical of the Capitol's preferred melodies.
Gadget was about to see the people she would be up against. People she would need to kill or…would kill her.
Her throat was dry and she tried to swallow, but it didn't help.
She didn't know if she could do it. Survive. Not like the Careers. They were trained almost their entire lives for this but Gadget wasn't sure she would even last a minute into the Games. She was dead weight. She knew she was dead weight.
When an arm rested on Gadget's shoulder, the girl gasped loudly and jumped. She turned to see Beetee, who held his other hand in a placating manner. "Easy, Gadget. You're not at the Games, yet. Settle down, let's go over the other tributes."
Flushing, the girl nodded quickly and turned her attention towards the television.
"They're not going to show us all the tributes at once," Beetee informed, "instead, it'll be divided up into four quarters of the entire day. Though in the Capitol, it'll be shown all at once."
Gadget deduced this was to give the tributes time to discuss and assess each other with their mentors, the victors. The videos weren't very long, since they didn't bother to televise the goodbyes between the tributes and their loved ones. Altogether, each district featured about five or so minutes of the reaping.
That was what it boiled down to: five or so minutes of exposure to the Capitol's masses, with some color commentary by the host and announcer, Caesar Flickerman and Claudius Templesmith.
Caesar's hair was blue this year, and his plastered toothy grin looked both artificial and ominous, whilst Claudius struck Gadget as seemingly quite ghoulish in his childish delight at the reapings. She felt like she didn't want to ever be alone in his vicinity.
It was probably a valid concern. He was from the Capitol. Everyone there was dangerous.
"Hello everyone and welcome to the 74th annual Hunger Games!" Claudius piped up joyously. "I'm Claudius Templesmith, and with me today is everybody's favorite host, Caesar Flickerman!"
"Oh, Claudius, you're too kind," Caesar said, his white teeth gleaming brightly. "If you keep that up I might soon be out of a job!"
Claudius smiled and shook his head. "I doubt it very much, sir, you're much too good at what you do, much like what our Gamemakers are cooking up for this year's event!"
"That's right! And everyone here in the Capitol and districts can feel it, with all the excitement we've seen everywhere we've been."
Did Caesar ever sound anything but overly cheerful? Gadget wondered.
The screen changed to show crowds of Capitol people screaming and cheering at the cameras. Then it panned several times over district folk, all looking just as excited. Having seen this previously, Gadget knew they were only showing scenes from very select districts, probably Districts One, Two and Four.
Gadget highly doubted that any of the other districts ever played along, or at least never looked that excited.
The screen abruptly returned to Caesar and Claudius, and the former said fervently, "Such energy! I LOVE it!
"So do I!" Claudius piped in, "I've got a very good feeling about this year's batch of tributes, don't you agree, Caesar?"
"I very much do, my friend, I very much do." Caesar flashed that toothy grin again. "Let's look at it in an orderly fashion, and from District One, we have Glimmer Belcourt and Marvel Sanford!"
The footage on the screen changed to a view of the excited residents of District One. The stark difference between Gadget's own reaping and District One's was…immense. And Gadget felt her stomach drop at the very sight.
"And we begin with the girls," the District One escort announced, twirling her hand over the reaping bowl. But even Gadget knew that it was more of a formality than anything. Whoever's name was drawn was practically guaranteed safety.
Not like her.
Still, the escort unraveled the name slowly, a mischievous grin on her face. Then, all at once, she began to read out the first syllable of the name when-
"I volunteer!"
Three hands shot up in the crowd. Each belonged to a different girl. A brunette and a blonde pushed their ways to the front of the reaping stage, while the third one fell behind.
Gadget watched, almost captivated, as the blonde girl outran her counterpart. Gadget wondered how someone could so easily volunteer when they knew full well they could die.
"That was some performance. A beautiful volunteer like you for the Hunger Games? Why, the Capitol will eat. You. Up!" The escort grinned and offered the microphone in her hand. "What's your name?"
The blonde leaned in and said, "Glimmer Belcourt." She gave a dazzling smile and flicked her hair over her shoulder.
Gadget just wanted to be sick.
The escort and Glimmer shared a few more words before Glimmer strutted off to one end of the stage.
"And now, our boy." The escort hovered a hand over the top of the boy's reaping bowl and ever so slowly, it descended until a slip was in her hand. She brought her hand back up and, just like before, unfolded the name.
The District One crowd was entirely silent. Gadget could only wonder if they knew which one of them would make it to the front of the stage first.
And like clockwork, the name on the escort's lips were ripped out when there was a chorus of, "I volunteer!"
Gadget watched as two different boys made their way out of the same section. One in front of the other. The large boy in front slid between the teens around them as the lankier boy in the back shoved his way through.
Closer and closer they made it to the stage, both of them scrambling out of the crowd at the same time, until the tall boy in the back kicked his leg out, catching the larger boy in front of him by the foot.
Down he fell, and the taller boy sprinted past his fallen opponent until he made it up the stage. He came to a stop next to the escort and gave a whoop of what Gadget could only guess was elation.
"What a show!" the escort said cheerfully. "You must have been looking forward to this moment, haven't you?" She offered him the mic. "What's your name, dear?"
"Marvel Sanford," he said through his breathing.
The escort smiled and then turned back to the crowd. "District One, give it up for your tributes!"
Gadget squeezed her fingers together tightly. They were so far out of her league. She didn't stand a chance.
With an expert wave of his hand, Grid had the volume almost muted. Caesar and Claudius's voices sounded like a murmur as they discussed the District One tributes with each other.
Turning to the others, Grid said, "District One. Career District; they're one of the wealthiest districts of the remaining twelve. I know this is stating the obvious, but as you both just saw…" Grid's glare was fixed on Binary. "...their children all train at the academy until Reaping Day, and almost always volunteer, and they're usually the most dangerous ones that you will need to keep an eye out for."
"Try not to remember their names," Qwerty advised. "It makes things…easier."
Too late, Gadget thought.
"These two will likely be mentored by Cashmere, Gloss, or Augustus," Qwerty observed.
Gadget knew about Cashmere and her brother, Gloss, of course, the only pair of siblings to have both become victors in their Games. Back to back.
And the ever-popular Augustus, the Cavalier Career. He was described as the figure of reconciliation between the people to the Capitol. Whatever that meant, Gadget thought.
"At least Burgundy isn't amongst the possibilities," Beetee muttered.
"Don't be so sure," Grid said bitterly, slowly. "If he sees something in them, he'll make sure to hack his way in." He scratched at his chin. "Absolute lunatic that he is."
Beetee, Wiress, and even Qwerty shared a soft but still audible collective groan at the thought.
"What's so dangerous about him?" Binary asked.
Grid, however, just ignored Binary and observed aloud, "The Careers have an academy, so they likely won't need much in the way of weapons training. More likely the mentors will impart the benefit of their experiences."
Qwerty nodded. "Brute force and direct combat is their forte."
Beetee and Wiress looked towards Gadget. "But subterfuge and creativity will be somewhat of a challenge to them, so that's what you should consider if you decide to take on those two."
Gadget's eyes were wide. Did Beetee think that highly of her? That she'd want to tangle with two seventeen year olds who'd been learning since they could walk how to hold and wield swords and other very sharp pointy things? On the first chance?
No, she fancied her chances against...a ten-day old loaf of bread. But nothing tougher than that.
"And if you tried to join the Career Pack?" Binary asked.
Grid turned slowly to Binary. "You won't. They only let in the best. Or the most useful." He didn't elaborate beyond that and watched the near silent Caesar and Claudius on the television.
Gadget chanced a glance at her district partner. She could almost see the gears turning and she flicked her studying towards her shoes.
"When the training comes," Beetee said, drawing Gadget's attention, "the Careers will be sizing up the competition." He clasped his hands and gestured to both Gadget and Binary. "Which is exactly what you should do, as well."
Grid nodded slightly. "Note their weaknesses and strengths." He inclined his head to Qwerty. "If they're like how they were in your day then they'll be patrolling and jeering anyone weaker than them."
A smirk crossed Qwerty's lips. "Oh, don't worry, Grid. They will be. They're ever so predictable."
Gadget gulped. She wanted to curl up and disappear from this horrible world right now. What kind of facade could she put up for the Careers? She highly doubted she'd win their interest as a potential ally, her only hope was to evade notice altogether.
"We'll discuss all the districts in detail when they break," Grid said, "here comes the next two."
District Two was another Career district, and much like the first, both the girl and boy had a slew of volunteers that practically fought for the right to go. It was utterly insane how deeply they wanted to be a tribute, with a high chance of dying...even if they were Careers.
Of the girls, it was one Clove Kentwell that eventually won the right to be in the games. She'd viciously cut her palm over the other girl volunteer's throat and ran almost unhindered to the stage. The girl was only two years older than Gadget, but quite diminutive. Still, her viciousness could not be understated.
"Nasty piece of work, that girl," Qwerty said unnecessarily.
For the boys, there were four that screamed they volunteered, though they were nowhere as vicious as Clove had been, and merely ran whilst pushing one another, and Cato Hadley won the race to the top of the stage, with the escort, Taitus Semper verbally complimenting their courage and loyalty to the Capitol, promising that President Snow would not forget.
"Sanctimonious prick," Septimius said abruptly.
Gadget stared at the man in wonder, but he said nor offered anything else after that.
"That there is a ferocious killer," Claudius told Caesar, just a moment after Cato made it to the reaping stage. "Mark my words, Caesar. Cato Hadley is a tribute to watch out for."
Gadget swallowed, her insides coiling uncomfortably.
When Cato looked at the camera and flashed a predatory grin, it felt like he was looking right at her.
A shiver went down Gadget's spine. This was who she was going against. These were the people she was going into the Games with.
Caesar and Claudius bantered for a while longer but Gadget wasn't paying attention. It was just about to be her debut to the Capitol and if she didn't catch the eyes of anybody, her chances were cut in half.
"-District Three, Gadget Trevelyan and Binary Nemec," Caesar was in the middle of saying, and the aforementioned girl froze in her seat.
She couldn't look away as footage of the reaping replayed. Septimius had called her name. Her stutter steps. Her near collapse. The stray tear that slid down her cheek.
It was all on display for the Capitol to see.
She could already imagine it in her head. The brute from Two would laugh at how easy the competition from Three was. His shorter district partner was probably thinking of ways to bash her skull in.
And the duo from One...they were just as dangerous. They were probably doing the exact same thing. Disregarding her as cannon fodder.
And…she was cannon fodder. She didn't have a chance. No, the Games were almost designed in favor of the Careers. The loyal districts get more rewards. And that reward was being allowed to train for the Games.
Gadget hunched her shoulders as she watched the recap of her reaping. She could see the terror as clear as projected on her face. And she continued to watch as Septimius called Binary forward.
Out of the crowd emerged Binary's form, his face pale, but otherwise calm and neutral. Whatever sound of Mrs. Nemec begging for her son's life was muted or gone, and for that, Gadget wasn't surprised.
Too soon for Gadget's liking, the footage was replaced with Caesar and Claudius. She'd desperately wanted to put off watching their judgment, but that gear was steadily grinding forward.
"Thirteen and fourteen, respectively." Caesar said with a tone of amazement, referring to Gadget's and Binary's ages, whilst still smiling. "District Three is looking to be facing quite a challenging path, but I think they're up for it, don't you, Claudius?"
"Oh you know, I think they'll surprise us!" Claudius exclaimed cheerfully.
The two men shared a laugh.
"So that's the first three districts, with some exciting selections already," Claudius said, "did you see that girl's face when she was reaped?"
Caesar seemed to sense a deeper meaning behind Claudius's words, and smiled deviously. "Are you thinking that we might see another Johanna Mason?"
Claudius shrugged nonchalantly and grinned. "I suppose we'll soon see!"
Considering that of the three districts shown so far, Gadget had been the only girl to not volunteer, they were definitely talking about her. But comparing her to Johanna? Yes, she knew about the girl from District Seven. She put on quite the act, as she convinced the entire lot that she was so pathetic and not worth the effort, that when she dropped the act, none were prepared for her ferocity.
But Gadget had never fought a day in her life, and no one ever showed her any interest in teaching her anything. All she had was her wits, and a knack for making something out of almost anything.
As the two men continued to banter and discuss the first quarter reapings with each other, Grid once again muted the television and turned to address everyone present.
"We've seen two Career districts, and they're easily the most dangerous ones you'll either be working with, or dealing with," Grid said.
"Whichever you choose, be sure of your decision, as it will quite literally be life or death for you out there." Qwerty added.
"Obviously they'll be working together," Grid continued. "And depending on the tributes from Four, so will they." He paused. "If you want to join them, you'll need to impress them."
Easier said than done, was Gadget's bitter thought, but she said nothing and tried her best to offer nothing in her expressions, when she glanced up, she'd caught Grid's eye, who seemed to be measuring her a little differently now.
She compiled whatever she knew in her head about the first two districts. District One was the wealthiest district by far. They enjoyed the favor of the Capitol in exchange for the production of luxury goods. The District had some notable craftsmen, in exchange, they had an academy that trained the children for the chance to participate in the Hunger Games with a distinct advantage.
Most tributes from District One didn't really come with any skill set based on what they produced that seemed advantageous in battle, but they made up for it with familiarity with weapons, brute force and aggression. And since they always volunteered, usually the fifteen-to-eighteen year olds got in, meaning they were usually the most experienced and strongest by default.
But the tributes from District Two were going to be the greatest threat. They weren't just Careers and the second richest district after One, they were also the district of masonry and weapons manufacturing. If District One had natural affinity with weapons and brute force, District Two made it an art form.
District Two had more victors than any other district. More mentors for the tributes to learn from. And that only increased their chances to come out on top.
Whatever hope Beetee helped to give Gadget was crushed. The Careers – oh, what did it matter? Things were hopeless for her.
Okay, think, Gadget, she thought furiously to herself. Maybe she could think her way out of this. Aligning herself with the Careers was out of the question.
Gadget squirmed. The time of her death, slowly slipping forward.
No, she told herself and slammed the proverbial foot down. She wouldn't run. Her dad…her brothers, they forgot about her but…she didn't want to be forgotten.
Gadget twisted her shoulders and kicked her feet softly. A dull ache in her stomach was the only sensation she could feel.
"There's a chance, you know, slim, but a chance all the same. You could make it."
Her brother, Syncis, and his words came back into her mind. The longest conversation as well as the most meaningful that she'd ever had with any member of her family. That little encouragement he'd given, as well as a proclamation of her being his sister and him not wanting her to die...it was literally the closest thing that had come to being an admission of love.
And for someone as starved for love and affection as Gadget, she clung to it like treasure.
A slim chance was better than none at all.
Beetee and to an extent, Wiress, seemed to believe in her against all logic and reason. That counted for something.
She'd do it for them.
And for herself, obviously. She just wished she hadn't seen Districts One and Two first. Most of the other districts shouldn't be too bad.
"-appeal to them with your technical know-how," Grid was saying.
Gadget looked up at him, realizing that she'd gotten lost in thought again and missed some of what the oldest victor was saying about District Two's tributes.
"Will...uhm...will there be sponsors…who give tech?" Gadget blinked owlishly at her own boldness in speaking up.
All four victors regarded her for a moment, and she did her best not to lower her gaze or flinch under so much scrutiny.
"Sometimes," Qwerty answered. "But that all depends on how well you impress and entertain them right from the start."
"Perhaps we should give a quick example for you," Grid said.
With a look from Grid, Beetee nodded and turned to Gadget and Binary. "There's a few ways to appeal to the crowds; you can do what Johanna Mason did, and appear disarmingly good-looking yet pitiful…"
Gadget's eyes were disbelieving, and a quick cursory glance at everyone present said more or less the same thing about her chances of appearing attractive yet frail and helpless. The latter she had, because she really was so, but the former? Not so much, probably.
"But that's just one option," Beetee continued, "the other is the way of the Careers, which I believe might prove harder in some ways; treat this as if it were a friendly competition."
"You have to push out the constant reminder that this is a fight for your life, and that you're going to have to kill to live, and if you make alliances, that it can end at any time without warning," Grid added.
"You have to live in the moment, and not worry about tomorrow. It will certainly bring its worries to you without needing to be thought of," Qwerty said.
Beetee nodded in agreement. "Just focus like it's the best day of your life."
Gadget swallowed hard, feeling like she had a hard drive shoved down her throat.
"We know it's hard," Wiress said, "but it worked for us!"
The woman gestured to herself and Beetee, who smiled kindly at her.
"O-okay…" Gadget said, and pondered how she was going to put it out of her mind that she was going to a televised death match.
She also had to try not to think about the fact that nobody from District Three had won in the Games for nearly thirty years.
No pressure.
The victors went over a few more details of the first two districts, with no one bothering to go over the eventuality that if both tributes of District Three were still alive by the end, a near impossibility, but still one to consider, and what would have to transpire.
There was, after all, always only one victor no matter what.
Well, there were the horrid occasions where no one survived. Those were rare, but the Capitol had learned from those mistakes, and were very very careful. It was possible the Capitol feared having no living winners more than anything else in the world. Or more specifically, President Snow did.
The conversation quickly wound down as they neared the time for the next three districts.
"-troduce the tributes from District Four, Marina Stafford and Ridley Pollock!"
Gadget blinked at the sudden sound of Caesar's announcement and Grid raising the volume. She looked up in time to watch as the footage changed to the District Four escort walk across the reaping stage.
The escort began her speech and Qwerty said, "District Four. They can add to the Career alliance or be dead weight." She looked at Binary, then to Gadget. "With little in between."
"Such as Annie Cresta," Grid added.
Annie Cresta. Gadget remembered her Games. Neither of the Fours were Careers that year and Annie's district partner was decapitated in front of her. Even during the Victory Tour she was still a bit…off.
Gadget had nightmares of that boy. And her dad hadn't exactly been kind to her whimpering cries in the night.
Nobody in the crowd of Four seemed excited, not like the other Career districts. Instead they appeared full of dread and trepidation.
Gadget didn't know how the Careers worked in District One and Two. Not with how they were so excited and fighting over each other to volunteer. But District Four seemed to be quite different. They had Careers, but even then they only volunteered on occasion. They could be waiting for the Quarter Quell next year.
The escort on the screen reached into the reaping bowl and called a name. A girl from the fifteen-year-old section stumbled out and started on her way to the reaping stage. Shaking in fear, she started to ascend the stage.
"I volunteer!" someone yelled and the girl nearly collapsed in relief.
A strong looking sixteen year old girl made her way to the stage. Black hair framed her slightly tanned face.
When she made it to the podium, she told the escort her name was Marina Stafford, and shook her hand.
"That's one Career," Grid noted. He held his chin between his fingers.
"She'll be with the Pack," Wiress whispered.
"Most likely," Beetee agreed.
"Though unlike the duo from One and Two," Grid continued, "appears to be entirely forgettable."
The escort reached into the second bowl and called a name. "Ridley Pollock!"
A boy with a freckle-covered face from the twelve-year-old section pushed his way out of the crowd and Gadget eyed the screen warily.
"Unfortunate," Grid said, although his face remained steely. "This is great news for us." He curled his fingers with a glance at Binary and Gadget.
"He won't be a part of the Pack." Qwerty nodded.
But on the screen, Ridley gave a beaming smile and waved at the crowd. He mounted the stage and the escort offered her hand, like she had to Marina. Ridley took her hand and bowed his head and pressed his lips to her hand.
"Oh, aren't you a charming little one!" the escort chirped.
Grid hummed in thought. "He knows how to play to a crowd."
"Gadget…" Beetee called her attention to him. "Maybe that boy is worth considering an ally."
"Oh. Maybe," Gadget said, though she wasn't sure. Befriending anyone in the Games meant that, eventually, they would have to die in order for her to live.
Ridley and Marina shook hands on the television, and the volunteer girl glared disdainfully at her district partner, even as he smiled at her.
"Their bond was broken before the reaping even started," Binary stated.
I can relate to that, Gadget thought, but didn't dare say it. And Binary was right. The tributes from Four didn't look like they got along very much. Much like herself and Binary.
She dropped her stare from the television to her lap. She squeezed her thighs together and tucked her hands around the back of her neck.
Grid, Qwerty, and Beetee faded into white noise. She didn't know how she was going to do this. How she was going to catch the attention of the audience as easily as the Careers had.
Slowly, ever so slowly, Gadget hesitantly nodded at Binary, then leaned forward in her seat.
The Hunger Games had begun and they weren't stopping for anyone.
Gadget rubbed her eyes. She needed to focus. She needed to watch these recaps and note potential allies. Like Beetee said, this wasn't just about remembering who to run away from in the arena. She wouldn't survive on her own. She just couldn't.
"Coming in from District Five," Caesar said from the television, "is District Five's escort, Hyperion Vickers. Lovely fellow, that Hyperion."
The crowd for District Five milled about somberly. Whatever joy they had from winning last year's Games was gone.
Something that always struck Gadget during these reaping recaps from previous years was that District Five was always so clean. Abnormally clean.
In District Three, the place where Gadget decided to live…was not the nicest. After dad kicked her out she was forced to move around a bit, and none of the places she slept were spotless like District Five appeared to be.
Gadget shook her head slightly. What a stupid thing to think about, given the circumstances.
The District Five escort, Gadget noticed, was the only escort so far to have a…toned down fashion style. The rest of them, Septimius included, seemed to wear the most ridiculous things.
"Yes, let's mix things up," the escort said as he walked across the reaping stage. "Boys first. Shall we?"
The escort waved his hand over the reaping bowl and wiggled his fingers. Down, down they descended into the bowl until his hands wrapped around a name dramatically.
The escort smiled and moved back across the stage to the microphone. He showed the crowd the slip of paper between his fingers, twisting it to show them all sides.
So many of the boy's stared morosely at the piece of paper in his hand. Like if they stared hard enough, it wouldn't be theirs.
If only, Gadget thought.
The escort began to open the slip carefully, like he was ensuring that there would be no tears and it was something to value for all time.
Then, with a flourish, the slip was opened and the escort said, "Surge Kramar."
A pause, and then a boy made his way up to the stage from the throng of people. He looked fairly well built and his eyes were narrowed in what Gadget could only believe to be anger.
"Welcome welcome," the escort said when Surge made it up to the stage. He put his hand on Surge's shoulder. "I-"
Surge's tanned hand slapped the escort's away. "Don't touch me."
But the escort wasn't at all annoyed or perturbed. "This one is feisty. District Five's male tribute!"
The escort moved towards the second reaping bowl and Surge moved out of the way for him.
"And now, the girls." The escort reached into the bowl with far less flair than the first time. He seemed to squint out at a particular area of the crowd, but Gadget couldn't be sure.
The escort twirled his hand through the bowl, dragging his finger along the slips but without grabbing one. He hummed and then took one in his grip.
Just like last time, he took his sweet time unwrapping the name, but this time, he was interrupted by something that made Gadget do a double-take.
"I volunteer."
A redheaded girl, with rather sharp features, had her hand raised. And despite her volunteering, she looked almost resigned.
"This one volunteers!" The escort bounced on his toes excitedly. "Come on up, don't be shy."
The girl…Finch, Gadget corrected in her mind, glided smoothly through the girl's section until she made it to the foot of the stage. And then she ascended. She was quite lean and lanky, with vibrant red hair. Spotting her in a woodland environment wouldn't be too hard.
The escort herded Finch to the microphone. "This one must tell us, what is your name?"
Finch seemed to hesitate a moment, and then said, "Finch Crossley."
Gadget glanced at Beetee and Wiress, who appeared fascinated at the turn of events on the television.
"A volunteer from Five," Beetee said in a way that suggested he was thinking aloud. He tapped his lips with his finger.
"That's not very common," Qwerty noted. "It'll make getting sponsors more difficult." She turned to Binary and Gadget. "An outlier volunteer is rare, and when it happens-"
"It promotes intrigue," Beetee finished.
"Indeed," Grid said. "It would seem to me like she was coerced, however. That should provide some sufficient chances for you two, come what may."
"Let's have a hand for your tributes, everyone!'' The escort eagerly crowed to the District Five audience, who could be heard offering a half-hearted applause, but Gadget didn't miss how the camera's carefully panned over only those who appeared happiest, if not relieved, and avoided the more morose looking folk.
She suspected more than actually knew this to be common practice. It was the Capitol's preferred method of misinformation or illusion, to spread the message that everyone actually enjoyed the Hunger Games aside from the Capitol itself.
"For goodness' sake, Hyperion!" Septimius muttered at the District Five escort's effusive enthusiasm.
Gadget jumped at the man's words, all but forgetting he was there with them. He didn't seem to like some of the other escorts of other districts, particularly those younger than him.
She got a good peek at the escort of District Three and could clearly see the greys in his hair, concentrated on his temples, and the crows feet stretching out from either side of his eyes. He was a tired and aging man.
He turned to her and noticed her studying him, and shrugged his shoulders, facing away before he could notice her blush and averting her own gaze. "They just don't see what it takes from us, too."
He did not offer more input beyond that, but the victors regarded him with understanding, and Gadget noticed for the first time how all four of the victors suddenly sagged their shoulders, even Grid, with Beetee and Wiress looking older than ever.
"Well, that was an interesting turn of events, there," Caesar exclaimed as the camera shifted back to him and Claudius. "A volunteer from District Five! That hasn't happened in some time, has it?"
"No, Caesar, I don't think it has," Claudius agreed. "We're now on to District Six, with uh…" he peered down at something off-screen. "Tamora Novak and Jason Malveaux."
"Oooh, how exciting!" Caesar said, but Gadget noticed something new for the first time.
Caesar's smile seemed...forced. The plastered smile she'd thought was fake or patronizing was more...pained? It was just something that struck her when she observed Septimius earlier, and after his remark, which made all four victors nod with understanding, Gadget began to notice something in the faces of the older people, whether they were from the districts or the Capitol, seemed to have.
There was definitely pain in Caesar's eyes. Something Gadget thought she knew about well enough. Enough to be able to spot it, though she knew little else about what to do with it.
"Let's take a look!" Caesar declared and the camera left him, and left Gadget from pondering more about him.
District Six came into view, and even the Capitol would have a hard time to make it look presentable. It was easily the most overpopulated district so far, and even Gadget knew the rumors from Peacekeepers of just how rampant drugs were in District Six.
The escort greeted the crowded district and after a brief shot of people giving polite applause that Gadget assumed must've been added in, stuck his hand on the first reaping bowl.
Tamora Novak's name was called. A short blonde thing with a slightly round face, the cameras trained on her even as she gave an introduction.
"That's a Bloodbath tribute," Grid said, toneless, and the lack of care in his voice made Gadget wonder why he even bothered being a mentor at all. "And if she survives the Bloodbath, she won't live long after."
Gadget wound her hands together tightly. The other districts were probably saying the exact same thing about her at that very moment. Just how easy a target she would be. How easy it would be for them to squeeze the life out of her…
The escort shared a few more words with Tamora before he patted her on the head insincerely, and then moved onto the second reaping bowl. He reached in and pulled out the paper and called out the name.
In only a few minutes, a boy with messy brown hair and a strong jaw took the stage. Jason, the escort said his name was, and from his steely disposition, he was already doing a better job than Gadget had.
With that, the second quarter of the districts had been introduced and Caesar and Claudius began to offer their opinions on the six kids that had just been reaped or volunteered.
Grid once again muted the two and turned to everyone gathered.
This time, though, it was Qwerty who started it off.
"The male from District Four is smart, but possibly pliable," she said.
Grid nodded. "At that age, he's more likely receptive to compliments and alliances."
At Binary's and Gadget's disbelieving expressions, the old man's eyes glinted keenly. "Did you fall for his confident act just now? Don't be fools."
"He was shaking in his boots," Wiress said, "it was his hands that gave him away."
Gadget thought back, did he appear shaky at all? His hands were twitchy. Was that it?
"He's twelve years old," Beetee added, "I think he'd welcome a friendly face."
Well, Gadget and Binary were thirteen and fourteen respectively, what did that say about them?
As if he read her mind, Grid said, "Be the smarter, more alert one."
Catching on to Grid's words, the others jumped in, starting with Qwerty.
"You're not likely to be the youngest ones to be reaped this year. There's always going to be a few 'Bloodbaths' and easy friends. Ones who will be impressionable and desperate for any kind of hope, friendship or advantage."
Beetee nodded, interlocking his fingers together. "It's harsh, Gadget, but at the end of the day, we're trying to get you sponsors and allies to see you through to the end. This…requires using people and resources and not hesitating for what must eventually happen…"
"You can do this, Gadget." Wiress encouraged.
Qwerty whispered something to Binary as well, and the boy nodded his head seriously. The teen girl idly wondered what the elderly woman was telling her fellow tribute, but she hazarded a guess that Qwerty was going to mentor him, and therefore infer his focus on surviving and outlasting Gadget.
"That girl from Five might make an interesting ally," Grid pointed out. "She didn't appear to be a willing volunteer. You can tell the difference easily." He looked meaningfully at the two tributes. "Worth observing her if nothing else."
"You don't know that for sure," Wiress softly countered. "If she was planning to volunteer, then she may have figured out her approach already: the hesitant volunteer."
"The tributes from Six might be potential allies too," Beetee said, adjusting his spectacles. "The girl or the boy are similarly unwillingly reaped."
"That's assuming they are able to think straight," Grid snapped irritably. "You know as well as I do their…morphling problem."
"Yes, of course." Beetee nodded, then sighed.
Everyone broke away to get some water and a snack, prompting the tributes to follow suit. Only Gadget and Binary returned first though, with the victors milling by the buffet tables, holding quiet discussions.
Both watched each other. Binary thoughtfully, and Gadget warily.
Eventually, Gadget slid in front of a single-seater to sit down, and Binary sat in a similar one across from her. They sat for a moment in silence, nothing but the distant voices of the victors and rumbling of the train beneath their feet. Finally, Binary spoke to her, and shattered the silence that gave Gadget a thin veneer of comfort.
"I'm not stupid enough to ignore your potential as an ally," he said.
Gadget opted only to lower her gaze and pick at her chosen snack, some fruit tarts. After everything…
Binary continued, "We both know our best chances are with the Careers. You've got some smarts around most resources. If you show them what you can do, I think you can impress them enough to let them protect us both."
Gadget looked back up at him. "U-us?"
Binary nodded. "Yeah, I'm good at modifying and using almost any piece of tech, but you know how to make stuff out of almost anything. We'll need to work together."
His friendliness was so foreign to Gadget; she didn't know how to gauge his sincerity.
Binary took on a somber expression and leaned forward. "Look, I know I've been rough on you, but we're all we've got." He gestured between himself and her repeatedly. "You would think I was going to hit you, with you looking at me like that."
Gadget flushed. She had no hope! She couldn't even stand to face her fellow tribute when he's offering a coolant, how could she manage to befriend anybody? And she was as easy to read as a holovid.
"S-sorry…" Gadget said lamely.
Binary leaned back and stared at the ceiling. For a while, the low murmur of voices nearby and the thrum of the train racing towards the Capitol were the only sounds, then Binary spoke again.
"Only one of us is going to make it," he stated. "I would like it to be me, but I'm not afraid to say I'm okay if it's you too."
Gadget now stared at him in shock, and he raised an eyebrow.
"Surprised?"
She didn't know what to say, and just nodded, cramming a fruit tart into her mouth just to give herself something to do.
"My mother, my friends...I'll do it for them. Would you? District Three is pretty badly off. We need a win."
Binary extended his hand. A universal offer of peace, friendship even.
"Do your best," Syncis' voice reminded her.
Hesitantly, but eventually, she reached out and accepted the proffered hand. He shook it once, twice, and Gadget noticed he did not put more pressure than necessary this time. He smiled and nodded, then settled back.
It was then that she noticed that the low conversations by the adults had quietened completely, and a surreptitious glance to her right confirmed that the victors had all witnessed, perhaps even heard everything between the two teens. Blushing, Gadget stared at her half-eaten plate.
"Take your seats everyone," Grid announced, "they'll be starting up the next three districts."
As everyone complied with him, Grid turned the volume back up just in time to hear Claudius. "We are now coming up to District Seven!"
"Oh, I love this district," Caesar said with a smile. "Johanna's home, and there she is with Blight Katz. Look at her eyes!"
On cue, the camera panned on the female victor, who was not-quite glaring around before settling into a chair.
"Oooh, always gives me chills, that one," Claudius said, chuckling. "Amazing performance from an amazing woman."
"That's District Seven for you, Claudius," Caesar replied, "never underestimate the capabilities of the lumber district."
"That's right!" Claudius then glanced down at something off screen. "The tributes from District Seven are Cedar Lockayne and Elm Sorphus. Let's take a gander at their reaping."
When he said their names, images of the two tributes briefly appeared.
Cedar was short for a sixteen year old, with very short raven hair trimmed in a bob cut, pale skin and dark rings around her eyes.
Elm was not exceptionally tall, but he was broad shouldered, with sandy-brown hair and overall a rather robust build. He looked like someone that was already very familiar with axes and dragging tree logs to the saw mills.
The television flickered and Gadget watched as the peppy escort of District Seven bounded up to the microphone. He gave an unnecessary greeting, reminding the citizens who he was, as if they would've forgotten his name between the span of his first introduction and when the mayor would give their speech…
Assuming the mayor of Seven did give the same speech Gadget was forced to listen to once every year.
"Seeing as how I am a man of great tradition," the escort rambled on as he took slow, measured steps towards the girl's reaping bowl, "I will reap the girl first."
From the corner of Gadget's eye, she could've sworn Septimius rolled his eyes.
"Who will it be, who will it be?" the escort of Seven stage-muttered. He dove his hand into the bowl, far deeper than he needed to go, pushing name after name out of the way.
The camera changed shots to a pan over the crowd of girls, and for the first time, Gadget got a good look at them.
A mixture of sad, hopeless, and determined. The many faces of the Hunger Games, all lined up for anyone to see. Two girls were holding hands, Gadget noticed. For their sake, she privately hoped they wouldn't be split up.
The escort grasped a piece of paper in his fist and walked back to the microphone. "In my hand is the name of the next tribute for District Seven of the 74th annual Hunger Games," he announced.
Gadget heard a sigh come from somewhere beside her.
"Unless, of course, we have any volunteers," the escort added. His fingers slowly peeled the paper open, camera zoomed on his hands.
"That's Leviticus for you," Septimius remarked. He shook his head a few times. "Always needs to drag things out. It's ridiculous."
Gadget agreed.
At last, the escort on the screen raised the piece of paper into the air and turned it around to show the district. "Cedar Lockayne!"
"No!" came a deafening shriek.
All eyes and cameras turned as a burly man in a dirty old shirt that barely fit around his thick muscles, and large pants held up by suspenders came bursting through the throng of gathered children. He wrapped his massive arms around the tribute.
"You're not taking my daughter!" he bellowed so loudly that his voice cracked. "Damn it Snow, you've taken enough!"
There were barked orders nearby and Peacekeepers began to race in.
"Well now, this is interesting," Grid said, leaning forward in his chair. "Very interesting indeed!"
Gadget and Binary exchanged glances. Until now, only Binary's mom had shown emotion and shrieked for her boy's life. But this man, he looked ready to kill for his daughter, Cedar.
The first Peacekeeper reached the pair, but despite it all, Cedar said nothing and it wasn't clear if she was fine with this entire ordeal. The man backhanded the Peacekeeper with one arm, and punched the very next one. All the while, the girl's dad roared and protested.
But what was more important was. It finally took seven Peacekeepers leaping onto the man, hitting him with their stun batons all at once. It took another three of them just to hold him down.
The man writhed in their arms even as he was dragged up onto the stage, the Peacekeepers holding his blank-faced daughter by the arms just behind him.
One of the Peacekeepers hurled the man to the floor and circled around him as he slowly, slowly picked himself back up.
The man connected his gaze with Cedar's. He was so unbelievably sad. That was something Gadget was very familiar with. She saw it every day in her reflection, after all.
The Peacekeeper withdrew his sidearm and pressed it against the back of the man's head. He started to say something, but then his head snapped forward in a cloud of red and broken pieces of bone.
Gadget covered her mouth. She felt like retching. She couldn't tear her eyes away as the man on the screen collapsed onto parts of his own brain that had been sprayed across the reaping stage.
Surely the Capitol had to see how wrong this was? A man…that poor man who just wanted to protect his daughter…
Gadget shivered. The entire world was turning on its axis and she was scrambling for traction. To keep up…but she couldn't. She never would. Not with her heart beating so hard against her chest it felt like her ribs would crack under the pressure.
"Well, that was exciting," the escort from Seven said, and he wrapped an arm around Cedar's shoulder, who stared coldly, dispassionately at him. If the death of her dad weighed on her mind at all, she didn't show it.
Septimius turned away with a grunt and Gadget had to force herself to pry away from the television and watch as Septimius practically marched out of the carriage.
Beetee took his spectacles off and squeezed the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger and Wiress pressed her lips into her hands.
But this was what life was like, Gadget figured. Cruel and unfair. Pointless and needless things happening according to the whims of the Capitol.
Privately, Gadget wondered if death was easier than this.
The Peacekeepers dragged off the body of Cedar's dad and the escort gravitated towards the boy's reaping bowl. "The boy," he announced, "is…" He dug his hand into the bowl theatrically.
Gadget would've rolled her eyes if the blades of anxiety weren't stabbing her insides.
The escort raised his balled hand. "Unless we have a volunteer…in my hand is the name of the District Seven male tribute for the 74th annual Hunger Games!" Almost an exact copy of the words he said just a few minutes earlier. Just like before, he took his time unraveling the name before he turned it around to show his forced audience. "Elm Sorphus!"
Elm moved, and unlike when Cedar was reaped, no one came to his defense. Gadget stared. That expression she could've sworn was determination was gone, replaced with defeatism. Their limit had been reached.
Elm made it to the front of the crowd and came to a near stop. A giggle, and then peals of laughter escaped from him, even as he resumed his walk and climbed the steps of the stage.
There was a manic look in Elm's eye that Gadget did not like. It screamed at her to avoid him at all costs.
Who laughed about something like this? Not even the Careers did, but this…
Maybe she should've expected it. There always seemed to be at least one person with a few bolts loose a year.
There was going to be no stopping it. She was going to die in the arena.
"Since when did District Seven become Nine?" Qwerty remarked. She spun a bronze-colored liquid in her glass.
Grid just grimaced. But there was something about him that almost made him seem like he found the entire thing to be amusing. "Best to stay away from those two."
Gadget didn't need to be told twice. She squeezed her lips together tightly and darted a glance between Grid and Qwerty.
The escort coughed awkwardly and put his hands on both Cedar and Elm's backs. "District Seven, I present to you, your tributes!"
No time for applause, the feed cut back to Caesar and Claudius, and the latter didn't seem at all perturbed. Why did they go along like this was normal? That this wasn't wrong?
"Looks to me like District Seven just might be serious contenders this year," Claudius said.
"You think it just might be another year for District Seven?" Caesar asked.
"Oh goodness no, Caesar," Claudius answered, a look of faux-offendedness crossing his features. "If I could bet, it would be on Cato."
It was then that Gadget realized…the Capitol people had seen none of it. Neither the man's fight to save his daughter or his execution. It was a reminder to the districts. A warning. To show that they still had their boots on the districts' necks.
"Starting to get it, now?" Grid asked.
When Gadget turned to view him, she realized with a start, he was addressing her.
"I-" Gadget started, then stopped. With every person that was reaped, her odds diminished. The chances of her not even making it through the Bloodbath increased bit by bit. She was going to be slaughtered without a second thought.
"These are the tributes you'll be facing in the arena," Grid said unnecessarily, and Gadget noticed that he was talking to Binary this time. "The Careers are but one issue, but as Qwerty said, they are predictable."
"And unlike the Careers," Qwerty continued, "an outlier mentally unstable tribute makes them unpredictable."
The edge of Grid's lip curled upwards. "Exactly."
Gadget wanted to say something, anything. But her throat closed up and Grid's attention was back on the recaps.
District Eight was next and Gadget was anything but ready.
"The infamous textile district and the finest producers of fashion and clothing across Panem!" Claudius piped up enthusiastically.
"That's right, and in fact, isn't that where you got what you're wearing now?" Caesar asked as he eyed Claudius' bright attire.
"Indeed I am! The tributes of District Eight are...Lace Feathermont and Corduroy Ellsworth! Here's how the reaping went..."
Gadget knew that this district produced the Peacekeeper uniforms, but she didn't really realize the extent of their production, or that a fair few Capitol fashion designs originated from them.
The screen panned over the district, showcasing some regions, and the factory, then what looked like an advertisement promoting the fashions from the district.
And almost abruptly, the scene shifted to the district's escort. Even Gadget had to resist rolling her eyes at the escort's loud fashion. She found herself feeling fond of Septimius and almost sympathetic towards the man.
Like most of the young escorts from the Capitol, the escort from Eight was exuberant and energetic to an annoying degree. But at least she didn't…
"I think we can try something different this time!"
"Hnh!" Gadget blushed when she realized she made the noise, and drew Beetee's attention.
The man smiled and patted her on the shoulder in understanding.
The only way it could be different was if they'd just picked from the parents or adults instead of the children for a change. That made Gadget imagine her father finding himself getting reaped instead of her.
So the escort began to pick from the boys' jar first, though she made very little show or delay about it, and just shoved her arm down and grabbed up a piece of paper, half-crumpled under her careless grasp.
"Oh my," the escort said, "it's Corduroy Ellsworth! Yay!"
Acting as if Corduroy had won something nice or great, the escort clapped her hands, trying to drum up an enthusiastic response from the crowd, but nobody participated. Not even one.
And as a tall boy with short brown hair reluctantly stepped out from the crowd of boys, he took faltered-yet-steady steps, growing more resolute as he reached the top of the stairs. By the time he was beside the escort, who tried talking to him like he was some grand prize winner, he was completely unreadable, choosing not to answer any of the woman's questions or acknowledging her enthusiasm.
"Well, he holds himself up well enough, I suppose," Grid said, "but he's forgettable. An ally is only as good as the sponsors they bring. A forgettable ally brings nothing."
"I agree; not seeing much potential with him," Qwerty said.
"I don't know," Beetee said, and Wiress nodded. "I think that relentless stoicism shows some smarts, and hidden resilience."
"Worth looking at when you get to meet him!" Wiress added.
"And now, for the girls," the escort announced.
Like before, this woman just shoved her arm down into the jar and yanked it back out as soon as she had a folded piece of paper. There was a hint of impatience in her expression now, probably after the lack of response by the crowds and Corduroy's stony stare and silence.
She unfolded the paper and looked at it for a moment, arched her eyebrows, then announced clearly, "Lace Feathermont!"
"No, no, no, no, no…" a voice said, and the girls parted, forming a circle around whom Gadget assumed was Lace. "NO, PLEASE NO!"
The girl shook her head and began backing away, but the Peacekeepers were on her before she got more than five steps away from her spot in the crowd.
She shrieked and jumped, but two Peacekeepers hefted the teenaged girl up the stage and seeing as she continued to protest and scream, they frog-marched her all the way up and stood her in place beside Corduroy, but neither men released their grip on the girl.
"Well, here are your tributes, District Eight!" the escort yelled with a huge grin.
The sheer silence and the morose expressions on Lace along with the rest of her district sent a very telling message. But abruptly, the crowd changed to one of subdued cheerfulness and applause.
With a blink, Gadget realized that the Capitol had superimposed the scene of cheer over the depressed expressions that was the real mood of District Eight.
They did nothing to hide Lace bursting into tears and muted pleas with the Peacekeepers to let her go.
Compared to that girl, Gadget did a whole lot better.
Caesar and Claudius reappeared, and Gadget didn't miss the pained expression on Caesar's face after he witnessed Lace's reaction. But he was quick to recover, and soon had a smile plastered on his face once more. But Gadget knew now, he was not blind to the horrors, nor was he unsympathetic.
Or so she hoped, anyway.
They moved on to District Nine, which made Gadget queasy. The grain district. Despite their available supply, given that they cultivated grain there, it was the fourth most impoverished district. The buildings were flaky and old, with signs of poor maintenance. But poverty wasn't what they were remarkable for.
It was the district of Sperren. The Monster of Nine. The only serial killer to ever enter the Games.
Gadget had only seen the 38th Games in reruns, and when she had a group project at school that involved the most influential Games of all time. And Gadget's teacher had her group learn about the 38th Games.
So she had to watch as Sperren cut down the girl from Seven who only ever wanted to help people. Tortured the boy from Six who missed his mom's cooking. Slit the throat of the trapped Career from Two, who only ever wanted his dad to notice him. And the list went on. Up until the bloody finale between Sperren and the girl from Five, Porter Tripp.
That final fight ended with Porter killing Sperren in spite of the spinal injury he left her. Gadget had never felt so relieved when the recording ended.
As much as everyone from the districts wanted to forget Sperren ever happened, his name was referenced frequently whenever District Nine was brought up. Even Caesar and Claudius couldn't quite hide how discombobulated they felt about him. The district also knew how much Sperren's acts had marked them as something of an object lesson. And people to be watched closely. Gadget knew enough of that from the commentary of her family and classmates.
Gadget could remember watching the recording of the victors from Nine to come after the 38th Games. How all but one tried their best to rehabilitate District Nine of the dark cloud Sperren left hanging over it.
This year the tributes were Serin Brandt and Kernel Driscoll. Their escort tried to drum up enthusiasm, but frequently faltered at the steely and murderous glares from everyone, including the youths. They made no secret of their contempt and hatred, that the best the Capitol managed for them was to keep the cameras mostly on the escort and the victors on stage until the reaping. Then the cameras took the latest tributes mostly from the back.
Grid tapped his armrest as the television screen switched back to Caesar and Claudius. "The duo from Nine…they'll be worth looking into."
"Agreed," Qwerty said, though she appeared far more undecided.
"They'll have sponsors just by association of, well, you know."
Gadget did know. Among the outliers, Nine was among the most brutal of them. Binary could be willing to take Grid's advice to interact with them but Gadget wasn't so sure.
"The girl from Eight," Beetee said and Gadget looked at him. "Maybe you'll want to befriend her. Like you, she could use a friend in the arena."
A friend in the arena? But it would be doomed from the beginning. One of them would have to die and Gadget wasn't sure she had what it took.
"So sentimental, Beetee." Grid clapped his aging hands. "You know as well as I do that there aren't any friends in the Hunger Games."
Gadget dug her nails into her palms. Watching the Games had told her that countless times. If there was one thing she'd picked up on the Games from watching them it was that. Friends in the arena weren't meant to last.
"Sometimes a friend is better than an ally," Wiress said softly.
Gadget didn't know if she agreed. She had been alone her entire life, what was a few more days?
Caesar and Claudius talked about the last three districts to have been reaped, but Gadget didn't register the words in their voices.
There was a solution here somewhere. Somehow, she could make it out alive. She could win…right?
"Nemec," Qwerty said suddenly, "the male from Nine. He could be a potential ally. Size him up when you have the chance."
Binary entwined his feet. "I will." He glanced at Qwerty. "There's no telling what any of them will be like before we meet them." Then to Grid. "Is there?"
"No. But assumptions are the best we can give you," Qwerty answered. She almost appeared pleased by Binary's statement. And Gadget knew that it had been less a question and more a statement.
Binary knew the game they were playing better than she did.
Abruptly, Grid stood. "Beetee, Wiress, let us give our two tributes the platform." He took a step back, and then left the room.
Qwerty stood to follow. "We'll be back when they resume." She nodded her head at the television.
They were…leaving them to discuss strategy by themselves? Why? They were the mentors, they knew what they were talking about. Gadget? She knew next to nothing.
Gadget felt a hand on her shoulder and she turned her scared, tired eyes to Beetee's own comforting ones. Slowly, he and Wiress stood and filed out of the compartment.
It was just Binary and her, now.
She didn't know the last time she was alone, truly alone with Binary. She did her best to avoid it at all costs, but now here she was.
All alone with him.
And they were going to continue to be alone together if they were going to be in an alliance together. More so if Binary indeed wanted to align himself with the Careers.
She ducked her head and let her hair fall around her shoulders.
"If there is something you want to say to me, now might be the time." Binary's voice cut through Gadget's thoughts like a knife cutting through her flesh.
Gadget peeked at Binary through her curtain of hair. In one day he had exceeded his friendliness towards her then he'd ever been at home. But that was just because he wanted her as an ally.
Maybe Gadget could play her cards right here. Steer her torment in another direction.
"Well, that's good," Binary said. He leaned back slowly. "Was there anyone you think is ally material?"
Gadget blinked. Why? Why would he ask a question like that if he was planning to join with the Careers like he'd implied.
"I thought you…wanted to join the Careers?" Gadget stuttered meekly.
Binary nodded. "That is the plan. But if we can't, we need a backup plan. Allies that aren't the Careers."
Gadget's eyes drifted towards the television where Caesar and Claudius gave their own dialogue on the tributes.
Her mind ignored the extraneous details of everything she had learnt of the other tributes and she picked through the non-Careers they had seen so far.
She could see the faces of the tributes and whatever data she deemed relevant or important to making a decision on them in her mind's eye.
There was honestly very little to work with at this point, and Gadget tried to be logical about it, rather than act on her feelings. She couldn't trust them, what with how little she understood people to begin with.
"Lace Feathermont," she said, "Ridley Pollock, Finch Crossley, Elm Sorphus, and Tamora Novak."
Binary's expression furrowed as she started listing out the names, and then he blinked.
"Those are mostly Bloodbaths and hopeless ones! That, and one unknown variable," he said. "Why would you choose them as the back-up options?"
She held her gaze on Binary for the longest time in her life, staying in this moment of serenity, her palms resting over each other on her lap.
"Because nobody...expects anything from them...fr-from us."
She thought of how she and Binary combined could approach these people she named, and offer hope. Of getting past the Bloodbath. They might not make it even if they allied, but it could buy time for herself and Binary.
She felt her resolve failing already, as emotions and anxiety began to trickle back into her mind, all the doubts, the fears, the concerns, the alternate scenarios of them deciding to betray her first right at the start, maybe ganging up…she became lost in a sea of possibilities and scenarios. So much so, she failed to notice the passage of time and if Binary had said anything.
"And it's time to look at our final three districts!" Claudius' voice rang jovially, snapping Gadget out of her thoughts, and she realized with a start that the victors were back. Grid was giving her a curious look.
How much of her very short conversation with Binary did they all hear? She felt her cheeks flushing.
Caesar was talking on the screen, but the only thing Gadget picked up were the names of the tributes. Monkshood Caliburn and Husk Kellogg. She wanted so badly for this to be over. Itching to disappear.
District Ten. The district of livestock. Gadget wondered if the people in the Capitol even bothered to watch the recaps after District Nine. Not when Ten, Eleven, and Twelve were always seen as bodies to bolster the Careers' kill count.
Would that be Gadget's fate? A forgettable tribute that no one remembers the name of the moment she dies?
No one remembers the name of the dead, after all. Not in the Hunger Games.
A trickle of rain poured down on the people of District Ten. The crowd was moody and unhappy, but when was a little rain going to stop the Hunger Games?
The escort hopped around on the stage, giving pleasantries and trying to get the people excited to send off two of their children into a death match.
"Will we get anyone to join the likes of Maverick, Sable, Aurochs, or Stallion?" the escort chirped. "I hope so!"
The crowd stared despondently. It was a look Gadget was very familiar with. She saw it every time she caught sight of her reflection.
The escort pranced around the reaping stage a little while longer, trying with futility to hype up the crowd, but there was no excitement to be had and she gave up.
With a few quick steps to the reaping bowl, and annoyance clear on her face, the escort grabbed the first name she reached for and called out, "Monkshood Caliburn!"
And just like that, the sixteen-year-old section parted for a tiny solemn-faced girl. She wiped at her brown eyes with the sleeve of her raincoat and Gadget knew that she had tears in her eyes.
"Up here, darling," the escort said unnecessarily, like Monkshood was a toddler that needed to be advised.
Monkshood made it to the top of the stage and the escort dodged her, like Monkshood had a disease that she didn't want to catch.
"Let's give a hand for brave, brave Monkshood!" the escort said, clapping daintily. There were only a few token claps in return.
Gadget wished the escort would just get on with it instead of trying to drag it out. But she continued to watch with dull eyes.
The escort from Ten awkwardly tried to speak with Monkshood like she was an amateur Caesar before she finally moved on to the second reaping bowl.
"Is anyone guessing who it could be?" the escort asked as she reached a hand in. She pointed at a boy in the crowd that looked so, so strong. "My guess would be that lad right there!" The escort plucked the name and unraveled it in her hand. "And our chosen boy is…Husk Kellogg!"
Just like before, the eighteen-year-old section parted for the newest tribute and the first thing Gadget noticed was his limp. His foot was bent in the wrong direction.
"A tribute with a bad foot," Grid commented. "This is good news."
The boy, Husk Kellogg, went up the stage and Gadget saw the escort grimace, but something told her it wasn't out of sympathy.
"Our male tribute!" the escort said into the microphone, carefully maneuvering herself out of the way of both Monkshood and Husk. "Let's give him a round of applause!"
It kept getting harder. With every tribute Gadget saw, her chances decreased. These were all people who would either kill her, or she would have to kill.
She felt like she was swimming through miasmic darkness.
"The male with the crippled foot is compromising," Qwerty told Binary. "He isn't worth approaching."
Gadget thought it over carefully. The limp was compromising. It wouldn't hurt to observe him more when she had the chance, but even still, she estimated his odds would be as low as her own.
Monkshood, on the other hand, she could fit the role of a potential ally. Gadget suspected that, like herself, she wouldn't be able to get through the Games alone.
"Ten won't last long this year," Grid said decisively. He'd already written them off.
How many mentors have written me off? Gadget wondered privately.
"The boy will be cut down as soon as the Games begin, and the girl screams Bloodbath victim," Grid remarked.
"You never know," Beetee cautiously ventured. "They may have something up their sleeves."
Gadget twisted her palm uncomfortably. Whether or not they could be allies, they were competition. People she would face in the Games.
People who could kill her.
A quiver ran up and down her body and Gadget hugged her arms closer to her chest.
"Ah, District Ten. They never disappoint." Caesar's teeth gleamed brightly. "You know, Claudius," he began, twisting in his seat to face his co-host, "my favorite victor is from District Ten."
"Oh, is that right?" Claudius tilted his head in interest and crossed his arms. "And who is that?"
"Why don't you guess?"
Claudius tapped his cheek for a moment, deep in thought Then he said, "Sable Knox. I know you, too well, Caesar!"
Caesar lifted his arms with something resembling a cheer. "Oho, give the man a prize! Yes, Sable Knox!"
"The girl that killed without fighting." Claudius nodded in recognition. "I remember her well."
Caesar drummed his hands on the desk in what Gadget thought was excitement. As quickly as he had done it, he stopped and folded his hands against one another and leaned in towards the camera. "Coming in from the greatest agricultural district one could ask for, Rue Barnette and Thresh Morrowson!" Caesar announced, and the footage on the television changed all at once to the overview shot of the District Eleven square.
District Eleven had the largest population Gadget had seen yet, crammed into divided sections. And if looks could kill, the escort of Eleven would be long dead.
No matter how hard the camera angles tried to hide it, Gadget could feel the murderous intent of the entire district against the wall of Peacekeepers that lined the stage.
Despite the glares of mutinous intent, the escort droned on obliviously, on and on about how it was such an honor to be chosen for the Hunger Games.
A spiel Gadget had heard plenty of times now, watching all of these reapings. It felt like it was almost always the same.
"But enough about how much of an honor it is," the escort of Eleven said. "It's time to choose which of you that honor will be bestowed upon!"
Gadget grimaced. The already rowdy crowd moved about like a wave and then-
The footage changed abruptly like nothing had happened at all. The crowd of Eleven unmoving and watching.
"Well," the escort said and bowed. "Time for the female tribute." He sauntered over to the reaping bowl and plucked a name out with little fanfare. "Rue Barnette!" he announced.
Gadget felt a lump in her throat. She watched as a small girl from the twelve-year-old section was let through to the front of the crowd and slowly made her way up to the reaping stage.
If Gadget thought the girl from Ten was tiny, Rue was minute. A small thing with dark skin and eyes with thick dark hair. Her face was downturned in a way that the cameras couldn't pick up her expression.
Gadget shivered. She was so young. Why were things like this? Why did they go this way? Why don't the Games ever just include people who deserve it?
People like me?
"Would anyone like to volunteer?" the escort asked with a vocal tenderness and threw Gadget aback.
No one in the crowd of Eleven made a sound. All they did was look somberly at Rue.
"Very well," the escort said. He twisted on his feet with surprising grace and slid towards the second reaping bowl. "And so, our male tribute shall be…" He dropped his hand in and took it back out just as quickly. "Thresh Morrowson."
Gadget felt her heart sink as a giant of a man stepped out of the eighteen-year-old section. He looked like there wasn't a day in his life that he hadn't worked hard for. His dark skin was covered in muscle and his face so stoic and blank.
Thresh stepped up onto the stage and crossed his arms. Again, the escort called for volunteers, but nobody came.
District Eleven's escort coughed awkwardly before giving a smile to his own personal audience. "District Eleven, your tributes of the 74th Hunger Games!"
The television shot was quick to change back to one of Caesar and Claudius.
Claudius hummed. "That Thresh seems like he could be quite the player."
"Is that you changing your bets, Claudius?" Caesar asked with a wink at the camera.
Claudius let out a short laugh. "Oh, if I could bet…but no, it wouldn't be on Thresh."
Caesar gave a short nod. "And the girl, Rue. She seems like she could be quite the little fighter herself."
Claudius blinked and said in a slightly more bored tone, "Maybe, but whatever strengths she has has nothing on Thresh or someone like, say, Cato."
"The District Eleven female won't last long," Qwerty said with a shake of her head.
"The boy will be a threat," Grid remarked. "Both in the arena and for sponsors." He stroked his chin. "Sponsors tend to flock to the strongest."
That wasn't reassuring, but Gadget knew it wasn't meant to be. The girl, Rue, may only be twelve but if Gadget approached her, she might kill her to get sponsors. And Thresh, he would be able to snap her like a brittle board.
In both cases, it was just like anyone else. Anyone she tried to ally with could turn on her and kill her for sponsors.
Gadget didn't know if the danger was worth risking.
"Regardless, the boy will be worth watching. If to spot weakness and nothing else," Qwerty said, turning slightly towards Binary.
"So you have said, so it will be done," Binary said, and Gadget knew him enough to know he wasn't being sarcastic. She didn't think Binary had ever said a sarcastic word in his life.
Beetee told Gadget something but she couldn't bring herself to listen.
She was so close to the end of her life.
It was almost exhilarating, in a way. To know she would soon be free from all the misery that was her life.
"Should we even bother to watch the reaping for Twelve?" Qwerty asked flatly.
"They're almost over," Grid answered. "One more district is nothing."
One more district is nothing, Gadget repeated internally to herself.
But it was anything but nothing. Two more tributes, even from the poorest district, had the capabilities to destroy her chances.
Always Gadget was on the outside looking in. Now she was inside the Hunger Games and whatever odds she had were in the hands of the Capitolites. Whether they saw her as interesting enough. Or worth money to bet on.
It wasn't fair…
It wasn't fair…
But Gadget was used to it, even if it still hurt. Maybe it would even be better if someone else won. She thought briefly of the landmines. One foot off the pedestal too early and the grief would be over.
Should she even play the Games at all? As soon as the countdown ended there would most certainly be no quick, painless death for her. And the Careers, they would prolong it.
What good is my life when it's worth nothing at all? Gadget wondered silently to herself.
"Last, but certainly not least," Caesar began from the television, "is District Twelve, and their tributes are Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark!"
District Twelve was drab and grey; the only real color on the screen came from the district escort, dressed in purple, and face as white as the paper in the reaping bowl.
The people of Twelve seemed to all be dressed in the same similar clothes. The boys in white or grey shirts and black slacks. The girls in tan, blue, or white dresses that stretched down to their ankles.
The escort gave a few words to the district before finally saying, "As usual, ladies first." She turned to the reaping bowl to her left and took small steps to its side.
Slowly and carefully, the escort dangled her fingers into the bowl, moving them from side to side as she silently determined which slip of paper to grab. Which person she would doom to the Games. And then she grabbed one and slid back in front of the microphone.
The only sound to fill the square of Twelve was the unraveling of the slip in the escort's fingers. A pointless build-up that had happened in most of the other districts.
"Primrose Everdeen!" the escort announced after a moment of unraveling the paper.
Gadget felt her lips part. "Primrose?" she mouthed to herself. That wasn't the name Caesar gave.
Grid leaned forward and Qwerty's face suddenly lit up with interest. Gadget was unable to make out Beetee and Wiress' expressions, they hid themselves well.
There was a gaggle of twelve year old girls moving about before one of them, a small blonde thing, started to walk towards the stage. She looked terrified.
Primrose took a few small, shaky steps around the murmuring crowd and Gadget felt a burst of sympathy for her. Ridley, Rue, Primrose. All twelve.
This is so wrong, Gadget thought to herself dismally.
"Prim!" a girl yelled from the sixteen-year-old section. She was taller than Primrose, but still not very tall. Black hair tied into a long braid.
She was almost as malnourished as Gadget. Maybe we could bond over that, she thought grimly.
"Prim!" the girl yelled again, and she moved with surprising speed. She reached Primrose and pushed the girl behind her before the Peacekeepers could get to her. "I volunteer!" she yelled, pure panic in her tone. "I volunteer!" She adjusted her stance, like a cornered cat. "I volunteer as tribute!"
The crowd stood shocked. A few gasps rang out and although Gadget felt it was coming in the back of her mind, it didn't quell her own surprise.
"Katniss, no!" Primrose begged, but the girl - Katniss - was already separated from her by Peacekeepers
"I believe we have a volunteer!" the escort announced, equally as shocked as the rest of the district, but a pleasant smile on her lips. She said a few other things about the protocol of volunteering, until she trailed off and the mayor said a few words.
A boy came in from the side and carried Primrose away even as she thrashed in the arms of one of the Peacekeepers.
"Well, bravo! That's the spirit of the Games!" The escort beckoned Katniss up the stage, even as she gripped the handrail like a lifeline.
The escort grabbed Katniss by the shoulders and herded her to the microphone. She asked for her name and Katniss replied obviously. "Katniss Everdeen."
"I bet my buttons that was your sister. Don't want her to steal all the glory, do we?"
Gadget grimaced. She wondered what it was like to have a family member that cared so deeply to volunteer in their stead.
Gadget knew she would never know.
"A volunteer from Twelve," Grid said. "We've talked about how intrigue plays a part in the Games," he continued and Gadget felt her heart in her throat. Her hope waning. "And this is certainly intriguing."
Gadget closed her eyes and stuck her fingers into the cushions of the couch.
Drunken slurs from what Gadget could only assume was the victor of Twelve came from the television. The words were hard to make out but she understood the gist of it.
There was a pause, and then the sound of someone hitting pavement and Gadget looked up to see what had happened.
All that was shown was the drunken victor lying on the ground beneath the stage, out cold.
Oh. So that's what the Games do to people.
Gadget let herself smile bitterly. Both out of slight amusement and cruel bemusement.
The escort cleared her throat awkwardly and the angle shifted back towards her. She asked for a round of applause for their volunteer.
No claps were forthcoming from the people of Twelve. Not even for a volunteer. Gadget couldn't remember if that was different from the other volunteer districts, it was hours ago now that she watched those.
One person in the crowd brought three fingers to their lips and brought them up skyward. Slowly, nearly one by one, the rest of the crowd followed.
It was like they were saluting Katniss, but Gadget didn't understand what it meant, and judging from the blank expression on Grid and Beetee, the confused ones on Qwerty and Wiress, neither did they.
Eventually, the escort continued with the reaping. "And now for the boys!"
The camera panned over a small grouping of boys that looked neither excited or worried. Just neutral. Gadget wondered how one could be so calm so easily.
District Twelve's escort dug her hand through the boys' reaping bowl and took a slip out with just as much finesse as she had for the girls. She strolled back to the microphone and casually opened the slip.
"Peeta Mellark!"
Cameras zoomed in on one of the boys in the crowd. A blond with blue eyes, and a stocky build that made Gadget nervous for how strong he may be. His mouth opened in shock and he glanced around himself.
"Yes, this is really happening," Gadget whispered lowly to herself.
Peeta Mellark took a moment to gather himself on the screen, but he couldn't remove the look of shock from himself. He moved easily through the parted sixteen-year-old section.
When he reached the base of the stage, he hesitated and looked around.
Like her, Peeta must've hoped someone would volunteer for him.
But no one did.
Peeta climbed the steps of the stage until he, like Katniss, was herded to the microphone by the escort.
"Here we are!" the escort announced. "Our tributes from District Twelve!"
A pan over both of them left Gadget to see that while Katniss had a relatively blank face, Peeta's surprise didn't seem to have worn off.
The footage soon returned to Caesar and Claudius.
"And may the odds be ever in your favor!" Caesar said. "Oh, I love it! I love it, I love it, I love it!"
"Does anyone remember when was the last time we saw a volunteer from District Twelve?" Claudius asked.
Gadget didn't get to hear the answer to that question. Grid lowered the television's volume to its minimum. When he was done, he scanned the faces of Gadget, then Binary and back again. Gadget tried not to squirm under his severe eyes.
"Now you know what you'll be facing," he said.
You, not us Gadget noticed. Because really, the victors had no obligation to help them. They could just leave them to die what could be a slow, painful death within the arena.
And the victors all, collectively, had seen so many of their own tributes die that Gadget couldn't begin to imagine the possible grief they may feel.
"Now then," Grid began and stood from his seat to pace. "Let's talk about overheated batteries in the motherboard. District Twelve."
Grid slowly looked at Gadget, who carefully dodged his gaze.
"If they manage to survive the Bloodbath this year, they could be actual players in the Games," Qwerty put forth. "The male, he's broad; strong. And the female will have gained the attention of sponsors by volunteering."
Gadget felt a bitter pain rise up in her chest. They were dying for their viewing pleasure and still, some of them went unnoticed.
Okay, okay…think Gadget. Think
First thing was first. A plan was needed to make herself seem desirable for sponsors. But what could she possibly do? She was…pitiful and pathetic, just like Binary said.
She had no future.
She never did.
It wasn't impossible to get through the Games without sponsors. It wasn't unheard of. She would just need to…rely on whatever material she could get at the Cornucopia at the beginning of the Games. If she could live through the Bloodbath, anyway.
Gadget felt like invisible knives stabbed at her skin, just below the surface. Scratch away at her skin and the feeling would go away…it has to go away…
Second, the Careers, even on the off-chance of being allies, could crush Gadget like she was nothing more than a speck of dust. And they would do so eagerly the second her usefulness to them ended.
Whatever Binary's intentions, allied with the Careers was not in her best interest.
The Career alliance always tore itself apart at some point during the Games. Sometimes they leave amicably enough, other times it's through betrayal. But no matter what, it always fell apart and that kind of wildcard was too dangerous.
Not to mention that Gadget would always be the first to fall in that kind of situation, she knew it in her bones.
The knives pressed ever harder…
Third. Allies. It was certainly possible to win the Games without one, it had been done plenty of times before, Gadget was sure, even if she hadn't seen it. But someone as weak as her…as useless as her needed one.
And maybe, just maybe, they would stick with her until the final five or so tributes. But even still, that would only last until they inevitably killed her. Allies don't last long in the Games and it would be naïve, Gadget knew, to think anything other than death awaited her within the arena.
Her heart skipped a beat. Death awaited her.
The knives closed in from all sides. She couldn't breathe. She couldn't breathe! She couldn't…
Gadget stood abruptly; whatever Grid, Qwerty, Beetee, and Wiress talked about faded into silence. She wanted to cry, and scream, and about a thousand other things, but she circled around the sofa she had settled herself in and hurried out of the room as quickly as she could.
One step in front of the other; calm yourself, Gadget.
However, there was no stopping the onslaught of images in her head of her own mangled corpse.
