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~~(O)(O)(O)(O)(O)(O)(O)~~
Author's Notes:
Triage: Hope is a powerful emotion. Without willpower however, hope is nothing.
Zevoros: Trigger warning for an uncomfortable scene between a male adult and a female child.
Special thanks to Evie Rose and Team Shadow! Additional thanks to CragmiteBlaster.
Penelope's Web
Chapter 3
The Poppies of the Field
Gadget didn't know how long she lay there for, staring at the moonlight reflected clouds on her ceiling.
The steady grip of midnight hadn't been strict enough to send her to sleep. Not yet. And how could she sleep with the pit of anxiety seeping deep in her bones?
No, sleep was the last thing on Gadget's mind.
Any other time, the hum of the train might have been of comfort, and would have lulled her to sleep.
She was surrounded by more luxuries than she had ever been in her short thirteen years of life. The bed was larger, softer, and warmer than the one she had when she was still staying with her family. The rich velvet blanket she had over her kept her nice and comfortable.
The long hot shower she'd taken earlier had left her the cleanest she'd ever been in such a long time. But sleep would not come to her. She doubted it would.
Not after her downward spiral of imagining her own demise in hundreds of different ways, most of them did not see her living past the Cornucopia, and again, Gadget wondered if there was any point in trying.
Beetee had tried to give her hope. He'd been kind to her. Did she even deserve that kindness?
Why help someone as hopeless as her? A lost cause like her? What did he see in her?
What did anyone see in her?
Gadget twisted in the bed but it did nothing to impede her malignant thoughts.
She couldn't do anything in the arena. Her life was forfeit the moment Septimius called her name. She had no way out.
The mines, Gadget thought suddenly. They could provide a solution. An out. Those were the rules. Step off the pedestal too early and…
She would be nothing but a bloody stain. But it would be quick and it was far more merciful than the Careers would ever give her.
It would give her dad whatever perverse satisfaction he wanted. But it was for Gadget's sake, not his.
Gadget felt tears come to her eyes and tried to blink them away. Nothing she did ever seemed to please him. It hurt. It hurt so much.
She had tried to make him proud of her. To earn his approval. She had learned, once, her mom's favorite songs, and she'd managed to create a simple hand-held musical player that would play each one of them. It had taken her a week to compile all of her music onto one drive, but she was proud of it. Maybe her dad would be proud of her, too!
But he wasn't.
He'd crushed it under his heel and Gadget could remember looking desperately to Micra, Flux, and Syncis. But the former two hadn't so much as looked at her. To them, she was invisible.
A few days later she was kicked out.
Gadget clutched her hands to her chest and curled her legs in, chin tucked to her knees.
That was it, then. She would let herself fall to the mines. A brutal, bloody death but it would end her suffering, and that was all that mattered.
No. No! Gadget thought furiously at herself. She shook her head and wiped at her eyes. She couldn't do that. She wouldn't give up without trying. She had a chance to win, and even if her odds may become slim, there was still a chance.
Syncis believed in her. Beetee believed in her. She couldn't just throw that away. If they thought she had a chance…
Then wasn't it worth a try?
Gadget flipped over onto her side, towards her bedside table. She shut her eyes tightly and breathed out heavily through her nose.
But why do I even bother? Gadget thought to herself and she blinked her eyes open. On her bedside table was a remote for the holovid projector.
Anything to purge these thoughts from my mind, please!
She could find something to comfort her. Some stupid Capitolite romance show or movie, or that one baking show Gadget once saw in passing. Heck, even ridiculous propaganda about District Three, she would take anything to take her mind off of the Games.
She stretched her hand out for the remote and grabbed it and then she fell back into the bed and scanned the remote for the 'on' button. She found it and pressed it.
The projector flickered to life with a quiet whirr, and shrouded her dark room in a bright light that made Gadget squeak. She frantically covered her eyes with her palms.
She hadn't ever used a holovid before. She hadn't expected it to bathe the room in a bright white glow.
Gadget silently hoped that she hadn't woken anyone up. It was the dead of the night and here she was, unable to sleep. So of course, what better option than to watch a midnight show?
She felt for the volume button on the remote and lowered it dramatically
"-watching earlier, than you'll know that you have created my all-time favorite Hunger Games."
Gadget slowly uncovered her eyes and squinted. Her eyes would adjust. A familiar voice rang out through her room, but too loud for her to make sense of, and she could make out his appearance. A man in a midnight blue suit, decorated by small lightbulbs. Hair, eyebrows, lips, and eyelids colored blue, he could almost look like he was freezing.
Caesar Flickerman. He was impossible to not recognize. Especially to her. Not after her reaping today and his commentary on it.
Oh…her reaping. Gadget felt like it had been a lifetime ago that it had happened, but it had only been earlier that day.
Deep down, Gadget always knew what a waste of space she was. A year ago she had been left to fend for herself on the streets of District Three. And now here she was. The Games called and Gadget was forced to answer.
Gadget shook the thoughts away as best she could and stared at the holovid for a moment. She had no idea what to feel about Caesar Flickerman. Even if Gadget thought he could feel sympathy for the tributes, he was still involved with the Hunger Games. And anyone involved in the Games was dangerous, as far as she was concerned.
But…but he was useful to her. For her interview. If Gadget was to make it in the arena then she needed the audience to like her, and Caesar could help her, even if she didn't quite have the social skills herself.
Gadget was about to change the holovid channel when the camera cut to a wide-shot of the room fit only for the master of ceremonies and whoever his companion for the time was.
The stage was elevated by two steps, and was wide, with enough berth for one to pace about if they wished. Rich burgundy material provided the carpeting of the platform, and two plush cream-colored couches adorned the center of the stage, and neon lights aligned the background.
But none of that mattered. Not when Gadget was paralyzed just by looking at the man Caesar was interviewing. Her heart thumped hard against her ribcage.
Dark, black hair combed and slicked complimented a handsome, pale face with blue-grey eyes. He was dressed in white slacks and a black-red uniform that Gadget knew signified his position. But what was most telling of all was the groomed beard, uniquely stylized in a way Gadget didn't think she'd seen before in any propaganda pieces or magazines. Softly trimmed with sharpened hooks that she privately thought made the sinister man look even more sinister.
But even if he didn't have such a telling feature, Gadget had seen his face enough in Capitol Couture to know exactly who he was.
Seneca Crane. The Head Gamemaker.
The man who would run the Hunger Games personally. The man who would oversee her death. The man who would control her fate. The man who would lead her to her doom.
Gadget felt her world spin and she clutched her bedsheets in a vice-like grip in an attempt to stop her hands from shaking. Her mouth went dry and she felt like she'd been punched in the stomach as a bout of nausea rolled over her.
She heard clearly the words Caesar said next, but they remained hard to understand.
"There's just something so…" Caesar trailed off, clearly thinking for a word, and then, "atmospheric," he said, enunciating the word, "about the ruined city."
Seneca Crane nodded slightly. "It's funny you mention that," he said, his voice smooth and Gadget felt like something crawled up her spine.
"Oh yes?" Caesar asked.
"It was my first year as Head Gamemaker," Seneca Crane said, with a gesture to Caesar, "as you know, and I wanted to go back to our roots."
"Oh?"
"I thought it was important to show our history and remind ourselves of how we got here."
The audience roared in applause and cheers. Gadget's hands hovered over the remote but she couldn't bring herself to press anything. She felt sick.
Shots from the cameras lingered on the excited audience members and Gadget almost couldn't believe what she was seeing.
How could they be so happy about this? Gadget wondered and suddenly, she felt exhausted, like she had run the width of one of the factories back home. Her forehead was lined with sweat.
When the audience calmed down, Seneca Crane continued. "I think it's our tradition. It comes out of a particularly painful part of our history."
Caesar's face morphed into something somber. He nodded and sucked in his lips. "Yes," he agreed softly.
"But it's been the way we've been able to heal." Seneca Crane's eyes fell. "First it was a reminder of the rebellion. It was a price the districts had to pay."
Again, Caesar agreed with a soft, "Yes." His lips pinched and he sent a grave look over the crowd.
"But I think it has grown from that," Seneca Crane said. "I think it's, uh," he stopped for a second and looked out at the audience, then said, "something that knits us all together." He folded his hands together for emphasis.
Caesar's audience broke out into another flood of clapping cheers, but more subdued than before.
Gadget shook her head. That wasn't at all the case. He was wrong. He was so, so wrong. Her breathing picked up and she didn't think she could stop it so easily.
She didn't want to be in the Hunger Games. She didn't want to watch this. She didn't…
Caesar repositioned himself in his seat. "This is your third year as Head Gamemaker." Seneca Crane gave Caesar his attention once more. "What defines your personal signature?"
Endless cruelty, Gadget thought bitterly.
Gadget's hands felt numb. She wasn't aware if she was still holding the remote. All she could do was stare and watch the holovid.
Watch as the man in charge of her fate essentially considered her as a terabyte to be wasted.
Seneca Crane contemplated his answer for a few seconds. His lips parted and he said, "The story."
"The story?" Caesar repeated, a look of interest coloring his face. He leaned back and gazed thoughtfully. "Now that's one I don't think any of the prior Head Gamemakers have said."
Seneca Crane grinned. "A Game is only as good as its cast of tributes. And each tribute should be, uh, developed for the audience," he said with a gesture out to said audience, who made noises of agreement.
Characters. That's all Gadget was to the Capitol. One of her hands released the sheets and gripped at her chest. Thump, thump, thump her heart went, so fast Gadget feared it would crack a rib.
This was too much. She had to stop. It was enough!
"You mentioned once before about subplots and how they contribute to the Games. Can you tell us more about that process?" Caesar inquired.
Seneca Crane crossed his legs. "Trying to draw spoilers from me, Caesar?" he asked with a smile.
Caesar brought his hands up in a surrender. "I would never!" He turned to mouth at the audience, "I would!" A round of chuckles rolled over the crowd.
Seneca Crane dropped his foot and crossed the opposite leg. "It's a magical process, really. Where everything we've worked hard for this year comes together." He folded his hands together again and dropped them into his lap.
Caesar gave an encouraging nod. "It really sounds like it."
Seneca Crane put his hands up on his armrests. "But we are still working on this year's progress." He nodded silently to himself. "They usually come together after your interviews, but it can come earlier. The parade, the training, the list goes on."
The Gamemakers watched it all. Their eyes were on Gadget and she was a puppet on strings, dancing to their tune.
Breathe, Gadget, breathe, she told herself.
"Even as far back as the reaping?"
"Especially as far back as the reaping," Seneca Crane said. He palmed his hands. "It's where the tributes come from and where we all see who they are for just the briefest of seconds."
Caesar agreed. "It's when we see someone from the districts become a tribute for the Games; and it's…" his voice pattered off and gestured with both hands at Seneca Crane, "...powerful stuff."
Gadget could feel sweat line her back, dampening her shirt. She couldn't feel anything. Her hands and legs felt so numb she could barely lift them.
Blood rushed in her ears and she could hear her heartbeat, almost over the sound of the television.
Caesar gained an almost mischievous smile. "So now that you've seen them, what do you think of this year's crop of recruits? Are there any surprises we can expect this year?"
Seneca Crane sat back and raised an eyebrow. "It's really hard to tell just from a reaping but I think this is a very interesting mix. Yes."
"Yeah?"
"And whenever you have a volunteer from an outlying district, that's something you can't ignore." He shifted in his seat. "And about the surprises, I think…" he began, and Caesar leaned forward expectedly. "...I think that would be a spoiler, Caesar. No spoilers."
Caesar put a dramatic hand to his chest. "You heartbreaker, Seneca!"
"Sorry, Caesar," Seneca Crane said. He smiled a fraction. "But sometimes I think a little bit of heartbreak is exactly what we need."
Gadget fell back against the bed, she distantly heard the remote hit the ground, but she didn't care.
Am I dying? she wondered fearfully, pushing her head down into the pillow and shut her eyes tight. She could feel her tears slip out and stain the fabric beneath her head.
She was going to die before she even made it to the arena.
Gadget shivered and tucked her arms and legs close to her chest. Wherever the blanket was, she didn't know and she didn't care.
The words of Seneca Crane and Caesar rang through the room, but to Gadget they were an indecipherable mess.
It was to thoughts of fears of dying that sleep overtook her at last.
Gadget woke cold to the sound of knocking on her door. She instinctively wrapped her arms around her torso in a hug.
For just a moment, Gadget didn't know where she was. For just a moment, Gadget didn't remember she was on a train to the Capitol. For just a moment, Gadget forgot she was going to die in the Hunger Games.
And then everything came rushing back in an instant. The reason she was laying in a comfortable bed that was completely unfamiliar. The reason why she felt the rocking of a train beneath her bare feet. And the reason why the dull sound from the holovid reached her ears.
"May I come in, dear?" a voice on the other side of the door asked.
Gadget pulled herself up and felt the echoes of fear run through her. "Y-yes," she stuttered out.
The door opened to reveal Septimius on the other side. He wore a different outfit from the one the day before. A strange fabric Gadget hadn't before seen in District Three made into something that looked like one of the bath robes she saw when she was in the shower.
Gadget watched Septimius blink, no doubt at the mess she surely was. She privately wondered if he would just turn away because she looked far too pitiful to bother with.
But Septimius stepped into the room and Gadget watched as he bent down to pick up the remote she dropped during the night.
"I doubt you want to watch this, do you?" Septimius asked with something that almost resembled a grin.
Gadget glanced at the holovid and saw that it was just the typical Capitol propaganda program. "No," she said hesitantly.
"Didn't think so." Septimius pressed a button on the remote and the holovid powered off. He placed the remote on the bedside table.
Gadget stared at Septimius. Why is he being so kind to me? She didn't think she would get an answer.
"We'll be arriving at the Capitol in a little less than an hour," Septimius said. He walked over to the drawers and opened one. He examined whatever was inside, then pulled out a plain long-sleeved shirt.
Gadget could only watch in confusion as he pulled more clothes out for her and lay them at the foot of the bed.
Septimius noticed the teenager's eyes following his movements, and he nodded at her.
"Appearance is everything to the Capitol," he said, "image takes precedence over sensibility." He gestured to his own rather garish outfit. "Why do you think I dress like a blind clown?"
Almost against her will, Gadget felt her lips quirk upwards a little bit, and Septimius smiled.
Gadget saw that he had picked a simple yet elegant silver shirt with pockets on each breast, and another on each shoulder. He then added a pair of grey pants and a black belt to go with it.
The pants had more pockets too, more than she'd ever need, really.
"You can never have too many pockets," Septimius said with a smile, and Gadget blinked.
It was like he read her mind.
After he had picked everything out for her to wear, he pulled up a chair and sat down near the foot of the bed. He sighed.
It seemed like he wanted to say something, and needed to gather himself before he could.
He began to fish around his coat pocket, eventually, pulling out what looked like a handful of cashew nuts, and some purple-green leaves.
"Willow seeds," Septimius said, and then lifted the leaves in his other hand. "And these are dewflower leaves. During the wars, the Capitol made the willow seeds to be a toxic version of the cashew nuts. But an herbalist from District Eleven quickly learnt that mixing the dewflower leaves with these seeds counteracts the poison."
Septimius wrapped the dried leaves around each seed carefully. Was he…?
He chuckled softly. "The great irony is that once mixed with the leaves, the willow seed proved to be both delicious and medicinal. It still requires some care in preparation, but it is one of the few risky delicacies enjoyed by both the Capitol and districts."
Septimius held up the ball of seeds covered in leaves and began to pop them into his mouth. The seeds looked like they had been roasted well, so they crunched noisily with each bite he took.
He held up a small handful of the seeds and leaves to Gadget and she stared at them, hesitant. A risky delicacy, he called them, which only made her even more reluctant. It could kill her…she could die from it.
Gadget shook the thought away. The Capitol might be full of corruption but…they wouldn't risk killing off their tributes before the Games began.
Hesitantly, Gadget accepted, imitating his actions with the dewflower leaves earlier, carefully wrapping each seed before taking a tentative bite. The taste was completely new to her, unexpected. But it was an explosion of taste that left her…actually liking it. The earthy flavor and fragrant smell coupled with the crunchy texture made for a pleasant experience.
No wonder the Capitol enjoyed it. Gadget wondered if they were available back in District Three. Though if they were, they probably wouldn't be cheap.
"You need to be like the willow seed, my dear - Ms. Trevelyan." Septimius said abruptly.
"...wh-what?" Gadget stammered. She wasn't expecting that kind of remark.
Septimius smiled tiredly at her. "I've been privileged to have been the escort for District Three for longer than a few of my peers in the other districts, and in all those years, I've never had the honor of returning any tributes as victors."
In an instant, Gadget watched as Septimius seemed to age before her eyes.
"I don't know how much more I can take of returning to District Three with coffins, Ms. Trevelyan."
Gadget stared at him, mouth agape. She honestly thought that anyone from the Capitol was generally uncaring about the fate of the tributes after they'd been reaped. But between yesterday and today, she felt like she had to revise her opinions on a number of Capitol people, foremost amongst them, Septimius Bound.
Again, as if he'd read her mind, he asked, "Do you think it doesn't affect us? Watching year in year out, boys and girls going off to their deaths?"
Gadget didn't know how to answer that. To her, someone from the Capitol seemed to be on a completely different wave-length. A different kind of person that she figured she had no chance of understanding.
Though she didn't answer, Septimius seemed to read something from Gadget's eyes, he smirked and nodded to himself. "Not surprising. But I promise you that it does," he said.
She couldn't help herself and asked, "Ev-even...uhm...the one from District Twelve?"
Septimius chuckled under his breath. "Yes, even her, contrary to her portrayal. For some of us, we're still young enough to think we can avoid growing attached...but stick at it long enough, and you can't help...feeling."
"B-but...why me?" Gadget asked. Everything pointed to Binary being the cincher, if there was any chance of a victor.
Then again, she recalled Binary's mother just yesterday pleading with her for her son's life.
"B-Binary has…"
"Binary has as much of a chance as you in surviving this," Septimius smoothly interrupted her, "no more, nor less."
The girl gave him such a skeptical look that he had to smile.
"You may not believe it, Ms. Trevelyan, but you are...much more capable than you even realize."
"How?" she asked. Because she couldn't see it.
Septimius leaned back in his seat, taking a long breath, exhaling, then he began to list out some names, "Dayta and Beyta. Servestic. Electra. Consol."
Gadget recognized those names. All tributes from District Three in previous years. Some of them from before she was born.
Dayta and Beyta were twins...and two of the most unfortunate tributes. They'd both been reaped at the same time. Not willing to kill each other, they'd stuck side by side, trying to fight for survival, but ultimately failing to get very far, and they both died together.
The rest had been boys and girls that Gadget had watched. The most remarkable had perhaps been Electra. She'd been the only other remaining survivor in her Games. But the tribute from District Two made short work of her.
She had lost her hand from an earlier fight, and the make-shift armor and shockstaff were broken or beyond repair, so she was in no real shape to fight anymore.
Gadget remembered though that she'd been a very shy and quiet girl, who had little to no friends that she knew of.
She blinked, Gadget began to make the connection between those individuals and herself. Septimius could see her connecting the wires and circuits and nodded sagely at her.
"I apologize in advance, Gadget," he said, "I am putting a great deal more on your shoulders in a way. I...I can't help seeing something of those before you...in you."
Gadget gaped in disbelief. "But...but I can't...I don't know how to-to...Electra made a shockstaff!"
Septimius smiled in response. "And you can't do better?"
In truth, she could. Gadget had followed Electra's Games, and she caught that crucial moment when she jury-rigged what was essentially a taser with a fair reach. She had figured out how to make something similar, but even better, with improved capabilities...provided she had the resources.
Septimius nodded to himself as if Gadget had answered aloud.
"Ms. Trevelyan, when Electra was being brought to the Capitol, she couldn't stop crying during the whole journey. She had little to no control over her emotions, and she was nearly crippled by her anxiety and fears. But remember something…"
The man leaned towards her, and he half-whispered, "...she was this close to becoming a victor."
But that was just it. She nearly won. But the battles and the challenges left her woefully out of shape to fight any more. Close, or nearly, was not enough. Not if she wanted to live. And that was not factoring Binary, and assuming he didn't make it to the end.
"No matter what you think of yourself," Septimius said, "let me tell you what I see; I see the culmination of every tribute who had come and gone before you. I see Servestic's resilience and strength, I see Consol's courage and resolve, I see Electra's heart and soul, and I see the unbridled will of Dayta and Beyta. But more than that...I see you, and all that you are capable of."
The girl flushed at his...well, his high praise. No one had ever spoken to her like that, no one had looked at her with genuine affection like he was doing, with concern. He really cared! It humbled her, and overwhelmed her.
"Uhm…" she started eloquently, "...sir?"
"Yes, Ms. Trevelyan?"
"Please...uhm…you c-can call me Gadget…"
He gave her a warm smile. "Of course, Gadget."
They spoke some more, with Septimius encouraging her and reassuring her with tales of previous tributes, particularly the five that he compared her with, that he said she had all the qualities and strengths of. If she had any of the weaknesses, he didn't say, and she didn't ask.
He also instructed her on how best to present herself before the Capitolites. "It's all a show to them...hard as it may be, try your best to put that out of your mind, and act like you're all in with the plan, even if you really aren't."
"I-" Gadget started, "I don't know if I can…"
"You can, Gadget, and you will. Not for me, not for anyone else. But for you. You are the victor of the 74th Hunger Games. I'm asking you to be selfish for once. And remember, Beetee and Wiress are behind you, all the way."
She felt overwhelmed again. Never had any adult figure given her such support and encouragement like she was receiving now. And not just one, but three adults!
"Beetee and Wiress are quite an intriguing pair to the Capitolites," he continued, "and many would take the opportunity to speak with them, over Grid or Qwerty, to be quite honest. I will do what I can to open as many doors for them, and for you. No matter what, from this moment on, Gadget, you can be sure that there are at least three people behind you, and we will stop at nothing to ensure you have the best opportunities."
What went unsaid was the request...that there be only one coffin for him to bring back. And the more somber request: that it'd be Binary in the coffin, and not her...
With only twenty minutes left until their arrival, Septimius had left her to bathe and dress for their presentation before the people at the station itself. She mentally cycled through her entire conversation with the escort.
She knew this much; the man was tired, and aging faster than normal. The deaths ate at him. He instilled as much encouragement as he could, and bolstered her self-esteem. This carried her along the corridors from her room...and evaporated almost entirely when she saw Binary, and the hundreds...no, thousands of bodies lining the edge of the platform just outside the windows of the train.
So many people, Gadget thought as she stared wide-eyed. So, so many people that the train roared past. They all wanted a look at the tributes of District Three, if just a glimpse.
They all glimpsed a look at her.
Gadget went stiff as she felt Binary nudge her shoulder with his own. "There they are," he said through his teeth. He raised a hand to wave at the people.
"BINARY!" a Capitolite shouted loud enough for their voice to carry through the train as it hummed and slowed down. "BINARY! YOU'RE THE BEST!"
"LOOK! IT'S GADGET! GADGET!" another screamed.
The voices of the Capitolites was a dull roar, but it was growing in strength and enthusiasm as the train came to a complete halt.
Gadget stepped out of the way of the window, out of the sight of the crowd. She could only watch as Binary waved for a few more seconds before he turned and dropped the smile that had been plastered on his lips.
"Come on," Binary said, and he left the carriage as Gadget meekly followed. "You need to wave and smile," he said.
They marched through to a section of the corridor without windows, where he stopped and turned around, and Gadget, too, stopped in her tracks. "Our mentors told us what we should do when we arrive at the Capitol, but you left in the middle of the conversation."
Binary didn't exactly sneer at her, but it was a near thing. She dropped her gaze to her feet. Was it any wonder she was a lost cause when she didn't even wait long enough for her mentors to offer her advice?
She could feel Binary's glare burning into her.
"I…" Gadget stuttered, clutching at her arm.
"The better my odds, the better yours are," Binary said suddenly. "And vice versa." Gadget saw as his feet stepped into her field of vision. "But we need the audience to like us in order to make that happen."
Gadget nodded. "Th-that's what Qwerty s-said?"
A pause. And then Binary said, "That's what Wiress said."
Wiress? Gadget looked up at the boy opposite her and he leaned his head forward and raised an eyebrow. Somehow, Gadget hadn't been expecting that out of the quietest victor of District Three.
"What I am trying to say that you seem oblivious to," Binary started and Gadget winced, "is that together we look more appealing to the stronger tributes. As allies."
Gadget shifted on her feet. She forced herself to not look away from Binary, but it was hard. It was so hard. She'd recognized that she and Binary had never truly gotten along at home, and even that was putting it lightly. But if he was trying to align themselves together to increase their odds, wouldn't it be foolish to say no?
Gadget wasn't sure what the answer to that question was. She wasn't naïve enough to know that this peace would last forever into the Games. Allies always turned on each other in some way or another.
It was just a matter of how and when.
"You are the victor of the 74th Hunger Games..." the memory of Septimius' words assured her, but the continuous uproar of the crowds beyond and Binary's cold glare shattered any illusion that Septimius had given her.
Any self-confidence she'd gained had fled her completely now. She was once more the scared, homeless girl who slept atop garbage piles in the junkyard.
Binary took a step closer to Gadget and she took a minute step back.
"Do you know who Gizmo Kassver was?" Binary asked suddenly and Gadget's hand drifted instinctively towards her other arm. She looked at Binary confused.
"N-no," Gadget said, unsurely. She took another step back.
"Didn't think so," Binary said flatly. "The 59th Games. He said during his interview that Grid was his mentor." He took a step forward.
"O-oh," Gadget said, anxiety seeping through her voice. She didn't understand what he was trying to get at. "That's…nice." An alarm bell rang in her mind. A step back.
"No. It wasn't," Binary said, just as flatly as before. A step forward.
Gadget took a step back. "I don't-" She squeezed her hand around her arm tighter. "S-sorry."
"It was the furthest someone from Three got in years and Grid did nothing to help." Binary stepped forward.
"I-is…" Gadget swallowed, and then asked with more brevity than she felt, "Is that why y-you don't like him?" A step back.
Binary didn't answer, but he took another step forward and Gadget tried to take one back. Her ankle hit the wall.
Binary stared at Gadget and Gadget stared back. It suddenly felt like the walls were closing in. That she needed to flee as fast as she could.
The look on Binary's face…it was far too recognizable. Too similar to the cruelty from home.
She raised her knee to take a step. To try to run past her district partner, but Binary was quicker. He lunged forward and forced himself against her, slamming her against the wall. His hand wrapped around her throat.
Gadget flailed an arm in panic. No, no no! Her mind raced and she thrust her palm forward against Binary's chest, but it didn't push him back nearly far enough.
She swung herself sideways. There was a small gap between the wall and Binary's body. She could squeeze through. Knock him out of the way. Her head swam with options and she threw her body to the side.
An abrupt flood of pain raced up her leg and Gadget squeaked. Her knee would've buckled if Binary's hands on her shoulders hadn't been holding her up. She could feel an explosion of what she could only describe as a hot burning throb in her shin.
Binary - he stomped on my shin, Gadget realized distantly. She felt as her back was forcefully pressed up against the wall. The cold of the wall was almost comforting against the pain in her leg.
Gadget blinked the tears out of her eyes and she shrunk even as Binary loomed over her. She didn't dare look at him. Submit and…and maybe the pain wouldn't be as bad.
"The Capitol likes strong tributes, Gadget," Binary hissed in her ear and Gadget stopped herself from squirming. "And we both know you're nothing but weakness."
"You have more strength than you realize, Gadget..." Septimius' voice once again crept in, but that memory too, shattered, like all the others at the boy's next act.
Binary swung his fist into her stomach and Gadget bit back her cry. A dull, aching throb came next, and this time Gadget couldn't stop her feet from slipping out from under her. She whimpered. It hurt, it hurt, it hurt!
"If you can't even stop me from pinning you, what chance do you have against anyone else, let alone the Careers?" Binary continued to say, but Gadget didn't know if she could bear to listen.
"P-please no," Gadget begged, frantically looking up and down the hallway. "H-hel-"
Binary's hand clamped over her mouth, and her cries went muffled. "In the Games, nobody is going to save you. You can't call for help then. And you can't call for help now."
I should've known, Gadget cried internally to herself. Any form of peace from Binary was never going to last. In or out of the arena. He'd tormented her for years, it wouldn't have stopped just because they were district partners.
Again, Gadget whimpered, her usually dead eyes fearful as she stared at Binary.
"You're so pathetic it's embarrassing," Binary said, his hand on her mouth tightening hard enough to dig his nails into her cheek. "But I'm trying to help you."
Gadget didn't dare blink.
"As much as I would prefer it, our odds aren't just based on our smarts." Binary's hand eased its pressure, if only just. "The Capitol is drawn to strength. We need our strength to gain the attention of allies. Nod if you understand."
Gadget shut her eyes hard and nodded. She wouldn't let Binary see her cry.
"And what better strength do we have then working together to keep our odds in our favor?" Once more, his hand softened. "We help each other keep our odds in both of our favors. Nod if you understand."
Gadget nodded harder. Don't cry, don't cry.
"Good." He took his hand off of Gadget's mouth and watched as she took in a shuddering breath. "And who are the perfect allies?"
Gadget's lip wobbled as she whispered, "Th-the Ca-Careers."
She didn't see Binary smirk. "So you can teach a program new code."
Gadget heard Binary's clothes rustle as he stood up and left without another word. It was only when she heard the door close that she allowed herself to open her eyes.
The tears were quick to be spilled freely.
Pain gnawed at Gadget, just under the skin of her gut and leg. Her instincts pushed for her to stand but she couldn't, not yet.
Why did I ever think things would change? Gadget thought morosely. No matter where she went, one constant remained the same: Binary.
She should've known that whatever guise of help Binary offered would come through pain. And she fell for it.
Gadget curled inwardly and bit her lip in an attempt to stop her sobs from being heard. She didn't want anyone to hear her.
But someone could still walk in. An Avox, a Peacekeeper. Grid or Qwerty. Beetee or Wiress. Septimius. They could all come in and see just how much Binary was right. Just how pathetic she was. Just how much of a humiliation she was.
Gadget rubbed her eyes with her sleeve and slid up against the wall.
Fear bubbled up inside her. She wasn't stupid, if Binary was so willing to hurt her here, he would kill her in the arena. The thought made her heart pound.
Gadget took a delicate step forward and winced slightly at the protest her foot gave, but she pushed onwards. She took another step and matched it with the other.
She wasn't stupid enough to know exactly what Binary was trying to do. Scare her into submission. To wound her into becoming his little puppet.
Gadget squeezed her fists and she could feel a blossom of anger in her heart.
And then it was crushed and Gadget released her fists. Maybe that was all she was. A tool for Binary's odds of survival to increase.
Gloomily, Gadget took a step and tried to hide the pain in her leg.
Endless, the hallways felt like to her. A train that, in her anxiety, she felt like went on forever. Too long. Until she reached the last door and suddenly, the train wasn't long enough.
Hide the pain, she thought to herself. The last thing she wanted was for her mentors, Binary, or worse, the Capitol to see her weaknesses.
Gadget knew she wasn't necessarily good at doing such a thing, despite trying for as long as she could to do exactly that. Or maybe she could do it, but there was no stopping her sinking heavy heart.
Gadget slowly opened the door, practically peeking around it nervously. Beetee and Wiress stood to one side chatting in quiet undertones. Similarly, Qwerty and Grid did the same, but they looked far more impatient.
She opened the door the rest of the way and stepped through and hid her wince as her foot made contact with the floor. Beetee and Wiress noticed her first.
"Late again, Ms. Trevelyan," Grid said. He slid his eyes to Binary, who leaned against the far wall. "Don't make it a habit."
"S-sorry," Gadget stammered.
"I'm sure you'll come to understand that it isn't wise to leave the Capitol waiting," Qwerty said. She tilted her head in the direction of the other end of the carriage where Septimius waited by the train's exit.
Gadget swallowed and took a step forward. She was quickly flanked by Beetee and Wiress. She glanced out the nearest window and felt her body tremble at the sight.
A large swarm of Capitolites were all over the station. For the second time that day, Gadget could scarcely believe that they were here just to see Binary and her.
Gadget quickly looked away again. All of them were people who would gleefully watch as she was torn to bits. Just as equally as they are her key to survival.
She almost forgot to hide the sting in her leg and recalibrate herself. A breath left through her nose and she turned to face the door. To face the masses.
Binary positioned himself at her shoulder and Gadget stiffened. Relax, Gadget. He can't do anything here.
"Get ready to dazzle the Capitol," Septimius said, as solemnly as he had during her reaping. He hesitated for a second, and then opened the door.
The station was sleek, just as the train was. Silver and white walls lay at a slant that stretched up into a ceiling that were indented with two bright lights. There was nowhere Gadget could look that didn't define Capitol architecture. The same architecture as the Justice Hall appeared back in Three.
Two Peacekeepers stood outside the door and a wide berth was created for them. To let the tributes pass.
Gadget's throat went dry. With every second that passed, she was closer to the Hunger Games. It was so hard to believe it was real, that it was happening and happening as she was defenseless to stop it.
The Hunger Games were coming, ever so slowly. And there was nothing Gadget could do to get out of it. She was going to die.
Septimius stood in front of Gadget, but his back was to her. She couldn't make out his expression, and neither could she see Beetee's. She wasn't sure if she would be able to put on a happy face for them like Binary warned her to.
Gadget watched helplessly as Septimius began forward. There's no stopping it, she reminded herself.
The Hunger Games begged to be played.
Binary brought his hand up and started to wave as he walked after Septimius, just slow enough to keep a distance between them.
They had coordinated this, the mentors and Binary. But they'd left her in the dark. She wondered if that was on purpose.
She felt a gentle nudge on her shoulder from what she guessed was Beetee, and took automatic step after automatic step.
Binary's instructions hadn't left her mind once, it was hard not to. She hurried her pace, the pain in her foot forgotten, until she was beside Binary and started to wave with a stiff hand.
"Smile," Binary hissed.
Gadget complied but her attempt was abysmal and more in line with a grimace. How could she smile when there was nothing to smile about? She didn't need to look at Binary to know he was displeased with her but she couldn't bring herself to care.
She hated it.
She hated Binary.
"I LOVE YOU!" someone shouted. Ah, admirers for Binary, Gadget thought bitterly as she found the woman in the crowd. Just as Gadget thought, the woman was looking at Binary.
"Come on." Gadget felt a hand on her shoulder that had her nervously flick her eyes to it in spite of the voice that she recognized. Beetee. She allowed herself to sag slightly. "You've done enough," Beetee said and he gently guided her forward.
Gadget gasped as she felt what her prep team called wax forcefully torn off her body. She didn't understand what the point was, not when her body was already hairless as it was. She figured that, just like everyone involved in the Hunger Games were, sadism played a part.
Septimius, Beetee and Wiress had coached her on what was to come, but it still seemed horribly understated when she had been ushered into her preparation room. She felt like a manufacturing product at the factories, laid bare, and being assembled for a specific purpose.
She heard the man, Philo, he'd called himself, hum as he looked over her body. His tanned-bronze face held no sympathy for her. He just looked bored.
Gadget wanted so badly to wrap her arms around herself to stop him from looking at her, but each time she had done it before, Philo had pulled her arms away. Forced her to uncover herself so that he could style her in a way that the Capitol wanted.
A violation of her comfort. Pain and humiliation that Gadget would never be able to live with. To forget. Not when every small thing her prep team did was seared into her memory.
"Almost done, little thing," Philo said, and Gadget felt her hands grip the table she was under harder. What was it about her that left him so unsatisfied?
"Mortimer will be helping you, soon," one of the other members of the prep team, Tullius, said. His high-pitched voice grated on Gadget's ears. "He's been so busy helping your partner!" He circled around the table to Philo's other side and picked something up off a tray that Gadget couldn't make out.
"Oh, you will love Mortimer!" Bellona, the third and final member of the prep team said.
Privately, Gadget thought Bellona and Tullius were rivaling each other in the cosmetic department. The former with a Capitol emblem tattooed in the middle of her forehead, and the latter with arms covered in what looked like scales.
Gadget didn't know how long she'd been stuck in the Remake Center for. Minutes felt like they passed in hours. Her body sore from so much bleaching Tullius put her under that she worried her skin would go chalk white. And none of that included her fears of the skin Philo most certainly tore off.
She whimpered and Bellona said, "Oh, I know you're excited, but you need to be patient!"
Gadget shut her eyes. There was no point in trying to correct her. They couldn't understand. And if she tried they would ignore her pleas. They would continue to disregard every bit of her solace.
She gripped the table harder.
Philo ripped another piece of wax from her arm and this time, Gadget couldn't contain the yelp that escaped from her.
"Calm down, now. We're almost done, no need to whine." Philo approached where Gadget's head lay and ran a hand through her hair. It wasn't the first time he'd done it, but it didn't cease to make her shiver.
"How is her hair, Philo?" Tullius asked.
Philo turned her head left, then right. "Much, much better." He looked down into Gadget's tired eyes. "Don't you agree, little one?"
Gadget shook and managed a weak and cracked, "Y-yes."
Bellona bounced on her toes. "Of course she agrees, Philo! She doesn't have a reason not to! She actually resembles a person, now."
Gee, thanks, Gadget remarked to herself, but didn't dare say aloud. These were the people who could make or break her image. Getting on their bad side wasn't an option.
No matter how much they breached her privacy.
"Mortimer has something special planned for you!" Tullius put in. He held a small vial of a blue liquid Gadget couldn't begin to identify. "The audience is going to love you! You'll look like a star!"
Knowing how the stylists dressed their tributes from the televisions back home, Gadget wouldn't put it past him to mean that literally rather than figuratively.
"Can't wait," Gadget said with her best false smile, which wasn't much.
"Oh, I knew you would be excited!" Bellona said with a clap.
Learn something, Gadget told herself, and she blurted out, "W-who's Mortimer?"
Tullius put the blue vial down somewhere behind him and jumped forward to clasp Gadget's cheek between his thumb and pointer finger. "Only the best stylist out there!" he said with sickening glee.
"You must've heard of him before!" Bellona continued and Gadget swiveled her attention to her. "You must've!"
I wouldn't have asked if I knew, Gadget thought. Nobody came near her and she released her death grip on the table and sat up. She curled up into a ball and she felt tears sting at her eyes.
Stop crying, Gadget. You've cried too much today, she scolded herself internally.
Gadget squeezed her eyes shut and when she opened them, spotted a fluffy robe folded up on one of the trays beside her. She threw her hand out and plucked it up, tossing it over herself in one quick motion.
Gadget forced the robe shut as best she could when she remembered what Bellona said.
"N-no, I don't. I-I'm sorry."
Bellona and Tullius's faces fell and Gadget couldn't help but feel an ounce of guilt.
But it didn't make Gadget's confession any less true. Typically, the fashion designers of the Games were famous and had a big name to them. Which only meant that whoever Mortimer was was an unknown that could either make her look great…or like a joke.
"Mortimer styled for Capitol TV, little thing," Philo said as he left his spot from behind Gadget. He made a swiping gesture with his arm. "But that was years ago, now."
That didn't put Gadget at ease at all. A stylist that had worked with the tributes for years, but had yet to make a name for himself did not spell out good for her.
"Oh!" Philo made a noise like he'd just remembered something. He looked at Gadget, his gaze trailed up and down her body.
She didn't like it. Not at all. She sat up on the table and pulled the robe closed against her harder. Beneath the robe, Gadget wore nothing, and Philo's examination did nothing to help her forget that fact.
She shivered and felt very much like someone had dumped a bucket of cold slime on her.
"Might as well take that off; Mortimer will force it off of you either way."
As if she hadn't been violated enough.
Gadget tugged the robe tighter against her body as she stared at her prep team in apprehension. They'd already seen her bare body, what more humiliation would she be forced to endure?
"Or not." Philo shrugged and, at last, he turned away from her.
"That's us done, then," Tullius squeaked. He hopped from foot to foot and gazed at the handiwork he did on Gadget.
At least his stare didn't leave her feeling disgusted as Philo's had.
One by one, Gadget's prep team scurried out of the room and a silver door slammed shut behind them.
And then she was all alone. All alone with her thoughts. Gadget was used to being alone. Alone and ignored, two things that went hand in hand for her.
Gadget slid off the table and hugged her arms ever tighter to her chest. She wished she could purge the memories of their hands on her. Of their scrubbing and waxing and bleaching. But just like how she had been reaped. The memory wouldn't go away, no matter how hard she wished it would.
Across the room was a mirror that caught Gadget's eye. She almost feared what she would see in it. She already knew just how much of a Capitol product she'd been turned into just by looking down at herself. It'd left her nauseous.
All nice and ready for the Hunger Games. All nice and ready for the people to look down on her and place their bets on just when she would die in the Games. All nice and ready to be the perfect Capitol product.
You can do it. Find that courage, Gadget told herself, and she took a reluctant step. Closer and closer she went, but refused to look in. She was afraid of what she would find. If she wouldn't recognize the person that looked back.
But she couldn't put it off forever. She needed to see what the prep team did. How they changed her.
Gadget looked.
Oh.
It wasn't as bad as she'd feared, given the hours she'd been under. Her skin looked smooth and clean, if slightly reddish and sore. She brought a hand to her hair and it felt softer than it had ever felt before. Her brown locks were tied back into what Gadget figured was a complicated pattern of braids.
Gadget opened the robe, just enough to look at the red color of her sore skin. She put a hand on her chest and ran it down to her stomach. She winced and pulled away with a sharp breath.
Gadget whimpered and shut the robe again. It'll stop hurting soon.
She didn't know if she believed that. Pain never had a clear answer to her as to when it would stop. Sometimes it never did.
The sound of the door opening shook Gadget out of her maligned thoughts, and she spun around to see who had entered.
"There is the beautiful girl." His voice was only slightly lower than Tullius's, though he looked nothing like him. His spiky black hair on the head of someone that Gadget thought would have once been handsome if his skin hadn't been dyed a pale light green. He had come into the room with a grin and arms extended.
The stylist had come to judge her.
"I am Mortimer," he said with a drag of his hand, and his eyes bored into Gadget critically.
"H-hello," Gadget stuttered, fearful of what his next words would be.
Mortimer eyed her for a second longer, before he paced over to the tray near the table Gadget had been forced to lay on.
"Remove the robe for me, Beautiful," Mortimer said suddenly.
Gadget's heart thumped. Her fears were founded, after all. She didn't want to do this. Please don't make me do this.
Mortimer put his back to the tray, nearly leaning on it. "Robe off, I said, Beautiful."
Gadget bit her lip. She would never be able to change his mind. It was something that needed to happen if she wanted to get this over and done with. And this man - Mortimer - he was her stylist. He was meant to help her.
Gadget squeezed her eyes shut and slipped the robe back off. She resisted the urge to cross her arms over her chest.
Mortimer pushed himself off the table and shoved his hands in his pockets. His eyes flew over Gadget's body analytically and Gadget trembled.
"You were taller than I was expecting," Mortimer said suddenly, and then began to pace around her, looking her up and down. Gadget had to fight to stand still and not fidget.
Make him like me, Gadget thought through her discomfort. She needed to wow the Capitol and Mortimer would help her to do that. She needed to make him like her.
"I-I get that, sometimes," Gadget replied awkwardly, though it wasn't actually completely true.
"I knew it," Mortimer said, his eyes sparkling. He completed his circle around her and stepped back over to where the tray was.
However, despite how her stylist was meant to help her…he was still from the Capitol, and that made him dangerous. A dangerous stranger. An unknown variable that Gadget did not like.
Mortimer took his hands from his pockets and grabbed a box that sat on the edge of the tray. He flicked it open and turned back to Gadget and approached her in just a few steps.
He slipped a brush out of the box and dabbed it in something, then pushed it out at Gadget's face.
Gadget's heart skipped a beat and she recoiled. He's dangerous! her mind screamed.
Mortimer cocked his head to the side. "Now, now, Beautiful. Can't have you walk out without some touch-ups! You'll look hideous!"
Gadget frowned and Mortimer pulled back with a pursed lip. He snapped the box closed and the sudden sharp sound made Gadget jump.
Mortimer's lips fell into a thin line. "Smile for me, Beautiful."
Smile. Smile when she had no reason to smile. Smile when she was about to be put in a parade for the Capitol against her will. Smile when she was just days away from the Hunger Games.
Gadget grimaced and she knew her attempt at a smile was abysmal, and given where she was, she knew it was the best she could offer.
Mortimer made a tsk-tsk sound and Gadget felt her stomach lurch. "Now that won't do. That won't do at all, Beautiful."
"S-sorry."
"Nothing to be sorry about, Beautiful." Mortimer moved back to the tray and put the box back down. "We're all excited, you aren't the only one."
Gadget flushed and picked up the robe Mortimer asked she take off earlier. She put it back on and watched apprehensively as Mortimer took the vial with blue liquid into his hand.
"Almost done, Beautiful. And then you will look stunning!" he announced with a pause between the end of his words.
At least he forgot about the 'touch-up' box, Gadget thought to herself. What went on in the fickle mind of her stylist, Gadget was almost afraid to find out.
Mortimer spun around. His pleasant expression briefly turned into annoyance when he saw the robe back on Gadget, but then it was gone again, back to being pleasant.
"W-what is that?" Gadget asked. She didn't need to point or gesture, Mortimer knew what she referred to.
"This, Beautiful," Mortimer started and Gadget had become quickly irritated at the constant use of the word. "This is something that will make you smile!"
Make me smile?
Gadget apprehensively fiddled with the sleeves of the robe as she ran over the possible things that Mortimer could have meant. She wouldn't have put it past the Capitol to develop something that would force someone to smile at all times.
Or…or was it something else entirely?
"That doesn't r-really answer my question," Gadget said as she eyed the vial warily.
Mortimer didn't say anything. He gave a smile of his own and shook the vial in his grip. Finally, he said, "Whatever it is isn't important, only that you take it."
Gadget knew she didn't really have a say in it, not really. Whether she wanted to or not, Mortimer would force her to drink from the vial.
"I don't want t-to drink that," Gadget said. Don't force me to drink that, please!
Mortimer's face fell and morphed into something that made Gadget squirm. Gone was the smile, replaced with something similar to a grim line. Gone was any form of playfulness in his face, replaced with seriousness.
"Beautiful, if I need to, I will have Philo, Bellona, and Tullius hold you down while I force this down your mouth."
A wave of cold fear came over Gadget and she shook slightly. There was nothing to stop him from doing exactly what he threatened. She took an instinctively step back and the back of her legs connected with the table.
She darted her eyes around the small, sterile room but Gadget knew there was no point in trying to run. Even if she did, she would be caught, and that would only serve to make life more difficult in the Games.
But she didn't want this. She didn't want this, she didn't want this!
"Don't be afraid, Beautiful," Mortimer said as he took a cautious step forward. "That doesn't need to happen if you take this for me."
"O-okay," Gadget relented, because she didn't think she could do otherwise.
Mortimer's smile returned. "Wonderful, wonderful!" He opened the vial easily. "Open wide, Beautiful!"
Although every fiber of her being screeched at her not to…although alarm bells echoed in her ears…Gadget hesitantly followed Mortimer's instructions. She opened her mouth and felt something that tasted disgustingly metallic slide down her throat.
"Done!" Mortimer cheerfully announced and pulled away. "Was that so hard, Beautiful?"
Yes. Yes, it was. Gadget coughed into the robe, nearly falling back into the table behind her. The taste burned on her tongue and Gadget vehemently decided she didn't want to taste anything like it ever again.
"Ah!" Gadget whimpered. It felt like something crawled beneath the surface of her skin, continuously moving around without any plan to stop.
Gadget threw her arms out in front of her and desperately shoved the sleeves of the robe back. She didn't see anything but her bare skin. However, that didn't stop her from what she felt. Not when something bubbled underneath.
"W-what was that?" Gadget squeaked. She put a hand on her arm and started to scratch, but the effort was useless.
Mortimer gained a pleased smile. "Euphoria in a bottle, Beautiful."
Euphoria? Gadget dug her hand against her arm and scratched at it. But no matter where her hand went, whatever was underneath moved somewhere else. She didn't know what it was, but it was like it was fighting to get out. It fought to tear open her skin from the inside and flee.
"Please…g-get it out…"
"Oh, I can't do that, Beautiful." Mortimer placed the empty vial back on the tray and Gadget followed his movements fearfully. "You don't look happy enough and this is the only way to do it."
That…that…
Gadget blinked and looked back down at her arms. The world suddenly seemed brighter to her. She could see more clearly. But there was still something there. Gadget could feel it. She could feel its pulse.
She felt her desolation slide away and Gadget realized then that Mortimer had drugged her. She felt her cheeks flush in embarrassment, she should have figured it out the second she thought she felt something inside her.
Gadget shook her head and looked up through her lashes at Mortimer and for just a moment, she didn't fear retribution for what she could say. For a moment, she thought she could do anything she wanted.
"You…glitch!" Gadget cursed.
And then everything came to a screeching halt. The burst of confidence Gadget felt dwindled to nothing, and she was hyper aware of the words she'd just spat. Hyper aware of what was happening to her.
Mortimer had drugged her. She was surging and she hated every second of it. Never had she felt as vulnerable as she did in that moment.
Gadget sat back on the edge of the table and watched Mortimer across from her. He looked amused. "P-please…I-I don't l-like this…"
Mortimer's amusement disappeared. "Beautiful, it doesn't matter what you want. What matters is that you look presentable. Dashing!"
Gadget certainly didn't feel dashing. And then, all at once, euphoria swept over her with such suddenness that made her gasp.
Faux happiness. It didn't feel right, not at all. But she felt giddy! The world seemed lovely! Why did she never feel like this before? It was good!
"Now, Beautiful." Mortimer said nothing for a longer moment and Gadget raised her head to look at him. "Give me your smile."
Smile? I…I can do that.
Slowly. So, so slowly Gadget morphed her lips into a beaming smile and felt a stab of pride when Mortimer gave one of his own.
"Beautiful! Beautiful!"
"I did it," Gadget said, her voice slurred. I did it.
"It was perfect, Beautiful." Mortimer nodded to himself and took steps to his side, closer to the wall. "Are you ready to see your outfit? The one you will use to blow everyone away?"
Gadget took a moment to absorb Mortimer's words. She nodded sharply. "Yeah."
Mortimer practically jumped in the air with excitement and he pressed his hand against the wall.
Gadget's momentary confusion turned to elation as she watched the wall slide open. Panels turned outward to reveal a shelf with supplies that looked similar to what Gadget's prep team used earlier. The wall turned and shifted in place to reveal a silver dress.
And all of it revealed from Mortimer's handprint.
Gadget took a step forward and felt the pain in her leg flare up. She let out an instinctive hiss of pain before she quickly gathered herself.
If Mortimer noticed, he didn't say anything.
Gadget stopped beside Mortimer and stared at the dress she was meant to wear. Silver boots that went up to her knees. Silver skirt and torso piece that seemed to sparkle. What she could only think to describe as circular, silver shoulder-pads hooked around where her neck would be. And a silver hat that looked plastic and cut to pieces.
It did not look attractive in the slightest.
Gadget furrowed her brow. She could feel the happiness fading so suddenly, replaced ever so slowly by a growing sensation of horror.
Gadget gasped again, abruptly, and nearly collapsed under herself. She could feel euphoria coursing through her being, stronger than before. And just as quickly as the terror had come, it was gone.
"Were you trying to fight it, Beautiful?" Mortimer asked. He looked both confused and amused simultaneously. He put an arm around Gadget's waist to tug her flush against his side. "There's no point in struggling, Beautiful."
Gadget could only digest half of his words. She had never felt so happy in her life. She had never felt this good before. Why was I trying to fight it?
"Here is your dress, Beautiful." Mortimer gestured with his free hand.
Gadget blinked slowly and took another look at the dress. "It looks nice," she said softly.
"Of course it does!" Mortimer unraveled his arm from her. "Now, let's get you into it!" He looked back at her and eyed the robe she wore. "We need to start without that."
Gadget glanced down at herself and, for the first time without hesitation, slipped the robe off of herself.
Mortimer grabbed the first piece of the dress. "Perfect!" he exclaimed.
One by one, each piece of the dress covered a part of Gadget's body. Mortimer helped her into each separate piece in such little time that Gadget could have been surprised by how fast it all took.
When they were done, Mortimer ushered Gadget to the mirror.
"There she is. How darling do you look, Beautiful?"
Gadget stared back at herself in the mirror. "Beautiful," she repeated. And it was true, she figured. She had never seen herself look so pretty before.
"I know!" Mortimer bragged. "Carmenta should be about done with your partner now. Let's go see him. Do you agree, Beautiful?"
"Binary?" Gadget garbled. She blinked slowly and nodded without thinking much beyond his name.
Mortimer grabbed Gadget by her forearm and escorted her to the elevator and punched in the button to the bottom of the Remake Center. When the door opened again, he dragged her out to the chariot.
The chariots were a gorgeous mix of gold and red; they were pulled by animals that Mortimer called horses. Next to them, Gadget registered Binary and a woman with purple hair, purple lips, and a dusting of purple on her cheeks.
"I look like an idiot." Gadget heard Binary.
"An idiot!?" the woman squawked. "This is some of my best work!"
Gadget glanced at Binary again. He wore an outfit that matched her own, though his was more masculine.
"Carmenta!" Mortimer greeted and the woman - Carmenta, Gadget supposed - turned, her enraged features instantly melting away.
"Mortimer!" She hopped forward. "Is that the girl?"
"That's right! Isn't that right, Beautiful?" Mortimer asked with a backwards smile at Gadget.
"That's right…" Gadget said with a smile of her own, the words in her voice mushed together.
"Oh, that's splendid!" Carmenta practically twirled on her foot right then. "Come on, let's get you and Binary into the chariot!"
Mortimer handed Gadget off to Carmenta and she was forced to clamber into the chariot. Binary climbed in quickly, resistant to Carmenta's help.
The instant they both stood in the chariot together, Mortimer began to adjust Gadget's position while Carmenta did the same to Binary. Carmenta said something that Gadget didn't make out, but had Mortimer agree with.
"Well," Mortimer said and he stepped back to admire his work. "That is us done, Beauties." He began to turn but quickly stopped himself. "Don't forget to smile!"
And then they disappeared.
Smile.
Gadget did as she was told and smiled. She could only distantly hear the crowd of the Capitol, but to hear them at all was amazing. They wanted to see her. They were here to see her.
For the first time in Gadget's life, she felt noticed.
"What happened to you?"
Gadget looked at Binary. He had his eyebrow raised and his face held a hint of confusion.
"They're here for us," Gadget said with a wide smile. She bounced on the balls of her feet and gripped the railing of the chariot tightly.
Binary stared at her like she was a completely different person. "They're the Capitol," he said slowly. "We're here for them."
"Isn't it so fantastic?" Gadget asked with a side smile.
Binary rapt his fingers on the handrail and then shrugged.
Gadget dropped her head slightly and watched the chariot in front of their own, about a dozen yards ahead. The tributes from Two, Cato and Clove if she could remember their names.
She blinked slowly and wondered what they were talking about. They must've been excited to be here, in the Capitol. They trained their whole lives for it, after all.
One of the stylists from Two sprayed some kind of container at Clove that turned her black hair sleek. The smell of if drifted down to Gadget and Binary and she sniffed. Like glittering perfume, she thought. When the stylist from Two was done, she hurried away to leave both Cato and Clove alone.
"Do you think they have allies yet?" Gadget asked, the words in her speech melding together.
Binary didn't dignify her question with a response and Gadget looked back over her shoulder. She could only see as far back as District Four, and when the girl, Marina, noticed her, she shot a glare.
"Hello…" Gadget awkwardly tried to wave, before she felt Binary's grip on her shoulder spin her forward.
"Are you surging?" Binary asked
Gadget put her hands back on the rail. "I'm just so…happy."
Binary said nothing. Then, "Give me your hand, if you fall out you'll lose us both sponsors."
"Okay," Gadget said, and placed her hand in Binary's without any fuss.
Gadget didn't know how long they stood like that for, but to her, it felt like hours. The only thing she could look at was forward to the chariot in front of them. And she stood all alone with Binary and thoughts that wondered why she wasn't happier when there was no reason to be unhappy.
All at once, then, invisible speakers that Gadget couldn't find no matter how hard she looked went off. Each one blaring the sound of the Hunger Games' anthem. And with it, the massive doors ahead of them opened to allow the sound of the cheering of Capitolites and the streaming of light.
"District One!" Claudius Templesmith's voice boomed through the speakers. "Glimmer Belcourt and Marvel Sanford!"
One of the chariots ahead moved forward out into the light, and Gadget could hear the burst of cheering from the crowd that had gathered for the parade. For as long as Gadget could remember, District One was always a favorite.
Even from the distance, Gadget could see Glimmer blow kisses while Marvel waved enthusiastically.
District Two replaced One, and Claudius made his announcement before they, too, went forward out into the streets of the Capitol. The cheers that Gadget heard had dimmed returned with just as much vigor, now for the second of twelve districts.
Gadget didn't have any time to think before the chariot beneath her feet lurched forward. She let out an uncontrollable giggle…and then they were out in the light for all of Panem to see.
"Wave and smile," Binary said under his breath and Gadget blinked as she absorbed the information.
Just as when Mortimer asked her to do the same, a beaming smile broke out on Gadget's face and she brought her hand up to wave, nowhere near as stiff as it was that morning.
The cheers from the people weren't nearly as loud and pronounced as it was for the first two districts, but Gadget found it hard to care. How could she care when an entire city saw her?
Gadget could feel that the spotlight was on them. Her and Binary. It wouldn't last long so Gadget savored it. Her little moment in time. She had never felt so happy.
"Look at the excitement on those two!" Caesar Flickerman's voice boomed out from the speakers. Was he commentating all this time? "Claudius, if there is anything to remember, remember that Gadget Trevelyan and Binary Nemec are survivors!"
Gadget's smile widened and she started to wave more eagerly.
"Look at us," Binary said and Gadget turned her head slightly. "Two survivors."
"They love us, Binary!" Gadget said, her eyes glowing.
"That means we'll get sponsors."
Oh, Binary and sponsors, Gadget giggled.
"Whatever Mortimer did to make you so happy…" Binary thought for a period. "It might be worth keeping the change. Our odds will certainly increase."
Gadget said nothing and her mind went completely blank. Binary didn't seem to mind. He only continued to wave, as she did, even as the spotlight was swept away by District Four.
District Five, District Six, District Seven, and so on. Each one came out for the Capitol to see and cheer for. Some more than others.
"And then…" Caesar's voice trailed off over the speakers. "What is that?"
The large holovids above the crowd faded away from the images of Thresh and Rue from Eleven and were replaced with ones of Peeta and Katniss from Twelve. And the crowds, their cheers echoing louder than it had since District Four rolled out onto the street.
Because the tributes from Twelve were on fire. Flames blazed off of them as they rode down the street. The girl, Katniss waved with a brilliant smile, before starting to blow kisses out at the crowd, too.
Gadget didn't realize how enamored she was with the sight until the chariot slowed down within the City Circle. Each chariot came to a slow stop in front of what Gadget guessed was the Tribute Center.
"President Snow," Binary muttered and Gadget squinted up at one balcony, high up on the face of the Tribute Center.
And there he was. President Snow. The most powerful man in all of Panem. Gadget dizzily stared up at the man.
"Welcome!" he said once, and the citizens of the Capitol quieted. His voice echoed that even Gadget in her inebriated state could do nothing but listen. "Welcome! Tributes, we welcome you!"
Gadget felt her breath leave her lungs.
"We salute your courage…and your sacrifice." The crowds cheered again. "And we wish you happy Hunger Games! And may the odds be ever in your favor."
Gadget wanted to do so many different things. Scream and cry. Because nothing about this was courageous or a sacrifice. Not when she was forced to go into the Hunger Games.
But then she gasped and she forgot all of it, replaced with euphoria as it flooded back into her all at once. Her hand gripped at the railing tightly as the chariot began to move again, into the Tribute Center.
Gadget groaned and put a hand to her head. She could feel a headache building. It's okay, she told herself. It would fade in time.
She pulled herself out of the chariot, followed by Binary. She found Beetee and Wiress and Grid and Qwerty easily enough. She stumbled forward and fell into the arms of Beetee.
So many people. Tributes and stylists and victors hovered around the grey and drab room. Mortimer was nowhere to be found, and neither was Carmenta or the rest of either her or Binary's prep team. It was only from over her mentor's shoulder that she saw Septimius.
Gadget groaned and felt a dizzy spell fall over her. Her legs wobbled and she tried to stabilize herself against Beetee.
"Sorry," she slurred.
"It's alright, I've got you," Beetee said softly.
Gadget put her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes, then blinked them back open and what fell into her tired line of sight were the stylists and mentors from District One talking quietly to their tributes.
One of the mentors said something and Gadget watched as the boy, Marvel, nodded seriously; Glimmer put her hands on her hips and cocked a brow. It all made Gadget wonder what they were talking about.
But there was something else that stood out. Gadget's gaze slid to one of the victors from One that stood further away than anyone else. He stared at the tributes blankly, like he was debating something with himself.
He wasn't exactly attractive, which, to Gadget, went clearly at odds with the aesthetic of District One as a whole, though the thoughts came slowly to her. No, the man was on the older side, thin greyish black hair that Gadget would have thought might have been slicked back if she hadn't seen the bald spot on the back of his head. His face was covered in light scars that made Gadget wince. Scars not caused by a physical weapon, she didn't think. Gadget knew what those looked like from her time studying the 38th Games.
The man's eyes rose abruptly, and then moved like they were following something only he could see. Only he was aware of. Gadget watched, and had Mortimer not fed her that drink, she would have been nervous as his eyes so, so steadily slid, his head turning with them.
Until they landed on her and his dark eyes connected with her.
Gadget felt herself swallow, though she wasn't aware she had actively done it. She turned herself away forcefully and groaned from the effort.
"Alright, let's get to the suite," Beetee said, and gestured to Wiress, who circled around them and wrapped an arm around Gadget's waist.