Capitol Night 3

EVIE FAWN (17)

DISTRICT TEN FEMALE

Evie couldn't sleep.

Lying on her bed, staring forlornly out the window at the glistening Capitol skyline, she found herself trapped in a world of thoughts and emotions that plagued her mind, barring her entry into the realm of sleep.

A small music player sat on her bedside table, gently whistling out a soft tune. Usually, this would've been perfect for Evie to practise a slow, graceful dance routine, but she didn't have the energy to do so.

Not tonight, and probably not ever again.

Her legs ached, every muscle below her waist sore from training. While her skill in gymnastics may have breezed her through the obstacle course, her lack of muscular strength had left her physically drained from the sheer effort she'd exerted.

Perhaps trying to speed through the whole damn thing wasn't such a good idea after all. She hoped it was enough to at least impress the Gamemakers and get her some sponsors.

But it was the mental strain that had hit her the most. Mare hadn't been kidding when she'd warned her of the Careers, shortly before storming off to her room and refusing to talk to Evie.

Those darned scumbags…

Evie had made the horrible mistake of lashing out against them when they did their rounds around the Training Centre dishing out insults. Those bastards had called her a wimp, a disgrace of a mother, heck, they'd even taunted her own daughter! How could she not fight back against those bitches?

Alas, all it did was put a sizeable target on her back, according to a rather dejected John. Apparently, he'd overheard Freya telling Maximon to 'put her in her place', whatever that meant. John had tried to reassure her, telling her Freya had a tendency to say that about literally everyone. Still, it was enough to send chills down Evie's spine. Freya's words echoed through her mind, crudely churning in with the gentle music like a twisted, taunting lullaby, eerily rapturing her into a state of consciousness.

She choked back a muted sob. Was this how every female tribute from Ten felt? Laying on her bed, she was suddenly aware that dozens of young girls just like her had lain upon this very bed, thinking quite possibly the same thoughts as her.

Only difference was, they'd all been brutally murdered since then, with the exception of Mare, the only one who'd never shed a single tear.

With that sort of pattern, I'm bound to be next, Evie thought to herself, shuddering at the realisation.

"Viscera…" she murmured, her voice falling to a helpless lull. "I'm so sorry, I-" She blinked, a sudden rush of emotion charging right into her all of a sudden, as if the very mention of her infant daughter's name sparked something within her.

"No," she decided, her voice rising with determination. "I can do this, I have to do this, whether Mare likes me or not, I can do this. I'm Evie Fawn and I can fucking do this!"

She jolted upright, nearly colliding with a bedside lamp as she did so.

Alright, now what to do?

She scanned the room, but apart from the music player, there wasn't much that piqued her interest. There was a stack of old books, but come on, who the heck cared about those?

Her eyes landed on a tiny pair of binoculars nestled right behind a particularly mouldy stash of plant guides. A sly grin crept across her face. Now, this could be something. She wasn't the kind to be adverse to snooping around, after all, she'd done this plenty of times before back at her school in Ten. It had gotten her plenty of juicy gossip and blackmail, a perfect remedy for many of her problems back home.

Maybe I can find something useful with these too.

Examining the binoculars carefully, she blew off a stream of dust from the lens and brought it to her eyes. "Oh, yes," she mused, chuckling softly to herself. "This is perfect, absolutely perfect." Trotting over to her window, she gazed down at the brightly-lit streets of the Capitol beneath her. Tonight, they were abuzz with activity, the sounds of cars honking serving as a steady beat for the hypnotic dance of the Capitolites as they pranced the streets, chattering excitedly about their days and engulfing large bottles of drinks. She pressed the binoculars against her eyes and aimed them at the streets, hoping to find anything that she could use against this dim-witted lot.

She spotted a woman pulling a dishevelled man into a dark alley before smothering him with kisses.

She spotted a young father fervently rushing around, his infant son in tow.

She spotted a group of young teenagers, perhaps even younger than her, swaying to and fro, drunkenly giggling and nearly swerving straight into oncoming traffic.

The usual stuff she'd expect from a bunch of big city folk.

But there was something else.

Tucked away in a dimly-lit building that looked to be under construction, away from the busiest pubs and plazas, she could barely make out two people dressed in typical Avox uniforms. She frowned. Were these construction Avoxes, working late into the night? If so, why were they alone?

And why were they pushing around magnets on a whiteboard?

She squinted her eyes, hoping to get an even closer look at just what they were doing. The whiteboard's contents were a little too hazy for her, but she could just make out a map of some sorts, with several numbers and place names written on them. There were both black and blue magnets, the black ones being put close to the centre of the board while the blue ones were scattered all around.

What the heck were they doing?

One of the Avoxes turned around, and with a gasp, Evie realised that she recognised them. Their blonde hair, sullen eyes, they were one of the Avoxes that served District Ten's floor. Trace, if Evie could recall correctly, was their name according to John.

But what on earth were they doing so far away from the Tribute Centre? Were they even allowed to leave the premises?

Just then, the door burst open. Before Evie could react, Mare sauntered in, a hardened expression on her face. She always had that expression, a ferocious, terrifying look that could petrify even the toughest of Victors and Peacekeepers. Evie yelped and instinctively flung her binoculars at her bed, although she wasn't quite sure why. It wasn't like snooping around was illegal, right?

Mare's eyes shifted to the binoculars, an eyebrow furrowing in suspicion. Evie gulped. She wasn't sure what Mare was doing here, but she didn't exactly like her odds of making it out without a whole lot of emotional damage.

"I see you've found the binoculars," Mare said coldly. "Huh, not many tributes do. Congrats kid, you're more observant than ninety percent of District Ten's tributes." She gestured towards them, her face unchanging as ever. "Here's a tip, use them on the Gamemakers and other tributes instead of some bumbling baboons out your window." And with that, she left as quickly as she'd come.

Evie stared blankly at the doorway.

Had Mare just complimented her?

PERSEY FAYRE (16)

DISTRICT FIVE MALE

Persey couldn't stand being bored.

It was late at night, and Persey, like presumably every other tribute bar maybe the Careers, had trouble sleeping. He'd spent the past hour or so strategising with Ithaca, who'd also had a case of the 'Hunger Games too scary, me not sleepy' disease. But there was only so much they could discuss, the Hunger Games, were, after all, an intriguing mystery for the tributes to solve as soon as they stepped foot into the arena. No one could predict what might become of them, or where they were even going in the first place, so not even grand strategist Ithaca with her entire dossier of plans could be absolutely sure of what to do.

So what did Persey do? Oh, he'd spent the last couple of minutes or so doing a bit of light jogging to work his muscles a little bit. When Ithaca had asked him about it, he'd simply flashed her a trademark awkward Persey Fayre smile and said, "Oh, I'm running to catch up on sleep!"

Naturally, he'd been met with a pillow to the face after that.

Ithaca sighed, throwing her hands in the air. "Ugh, why are we even here? I could be back at home trying to map out Panem's ancient history or winning Three's next debate championships but here I am, stuck with Mr Stupid Puns and about to die!"

Persey snorted. "Mr Stupid Puns? Alright then, Ms Second-Rate Debater-"

"Second-Rate?" Ithaca grunted, rolling her eyes at the accusation. "What does that make you, some penniless debater?"

"I beg to differ," Persey said with a grin, earning yet another pillow to the face from Ithaca. "Oh, you always fall for de-bait. Get it? Debate, de-bait?"

Before Ithaca could throw another pillow at him, someone knocked on the door. "Hello? Judging by your constant talking this late at night, I'm guessing you're in need of some company?" Switch's voice rang out.

Ithaca gave the ceiling a pleading look as Persey yanked the door open, exchanging broad grins with his peppy mentor as she entered. "Why the long face, Ithaca?" Switch said sweetly. "Come on, have some fun while you still can!"

"No offence Switch, but suggesting we have fun here of all places is a tad bit ludicrous, don't you think?" Ithaca countered.

Switch tapped her chin thoughtfully. "And that's where I come in. Tell me, is there anyone who annoys you here?"

Ithaca shrugged. "Coda, I guess? But he's not that annoying, not when he keeps his distance from me."

Persey's eyes lit up. Realising what Switch was about to suggest, his hand shot into the air. Switch mimed handing him a microphone. "Got someone in mind, Persey?"

"How about Alea?" he suggested with a smirk.

"Remind me, why did I even agree to this?" Ithaca hissed softly, an irked look scrawled on her face.

"Because it's all part of the fun!" Switch whispered back, a cunning look on her face as she tenderly held a small ziplock bag, concealed within the folds of her jacket. She gave Persey a nod and a look that said, 'Now.'

Giving Switch a small salute, Persey tiptoed over to the side of Alea's room, where the wardrobe was. Every now and then, his eyes swerved over to Alea's sleeping form, checking to see any signs of her being stirred from her deep slumber, but she'd somehow managed to sleep like a log. He slid past the medicine cupboard, although he couldn't resist scribbling down a quick pun on a small slip of paper and pasting it on the handle.

Why did your (REDACTED) tiptoe past the medicine cupboard? They didn't want to wake up the sleeping pills!

Then, he crept into her wardrobe, careful not to rattle any of the metallic clothes hangers, and shut himself in. He could hear muffled whispers from both Ithaca and Switch and although he couldn't hear what they were saying, he'd committed the plan to memory and knew exactly what they were about to do. He donned the mask Switch had given him, apparently an April Fools' Day gift from Olive, District Seven's mentor, a while back, and waited for the next cue.

Why had he chosen to do this to Alea of all people, you might ask? Well, while she did lighten up during mealtimes, she wasn't exactly going to be his ally anytime soon but she also wasn't going to be his enemy, owing to his status as her District partner, so why not have a little bit of harmless fun with her? Any other tribute might've taken offence and put a target on his back but Alea couldn't, it was taboo to do so.

Besides, it reminded him fondly of the stuff he used to do with Stacy back at home. Oh, how he longed to rewind the clock and return to those days but alas, they seemed to be numbered. But if he was going down, well, he wasn't going down without a bang.

Bang!

Persey nearly let out a stunned gasp. Biting his lip, he listened closely as a skittling noise erupted across the room, closer and closer towards the direction of Alea's bed.

"Ahh!" he could hear her scream.

That's my cue!

With a rather disappointingly meek roar, he leapt out of the wardrobe, hurtling his arms into the air in what he had hoped to be a terrifying stance.

Instead, his elbow clattered against the wooden frame of the wardrobe, inflicting a shock of pain up his arm.

"Ow!" he screamed, crumbling to the ground as a throbbing ache began to seep through his now-red elbow.

"Persey! What the heck, dude?" Alea howled but Persey barely paid her any attention. He rolled on the ground, clutching his hurt elbow, groaning and moaning in fits of pain.

Well, this plan had gone bust.

With a sideways glance, he noticed that neither Switch nor Ithaca had opted to stay behind, instead leaving him stranded to meet his fate at the hands of his groggy and very much annoyed District partner.

"Oh for crying out loud," Alea groaned. "Forget the funds to fix Twelve's power grid, I'll need funds to save your sanity!"

"Chill out," Persey mumbled, scuttling to his feet and scampering out of the room as quickly as he could. "It was Switch's idea, by the way!"

He didn't look back, but he could sense Alea rolling her eyes as she muttered, "Yeah, sure, whatever. Did you mistake me for someone who really cared?"

Persey nearly halted right in his tracks. Slowly turning his head to get a good look at Alea, a small smirk crept up his cheeks. "Was that sarcasm I heard?"

Alea grunted. "No shit, smartass. Now get out of here and let me sleep before I stuff that note you left on my cupboard down your throat."

Against his better judgement, Persey let out a holler of mirth, which only provoked Alea into throwing a pillow square in his face.

Yeah, he definitely deserved that.

KIERAN ACHLYS (18)

DISTRICT SEVEN MALE

Kieran couldn't bear being here in the Capitol.

Sitting gingerly on a couch in the dining room, he glanced nervously down at the plate the Avoxes had set before him. To his horror, they'd filled it to the brim with steak and minced meat, their nauseating odour rising up to his nostrils like a deadly toxin that engulfed his lungs, threatening to shatter his fragile self into a million pieces.

These were brought in straight from the forests of Seven, Jill had told him, nonchalantly stuffing her own face with meat. Kieran, on the other hand, went pale at her words. These creatures, not only had they been cruelly slaughtered, but they'd once roamed his woods, the sacred beating heart of his own District. They were once wild and free, and now, they lay dead on his plate for a bunch of people to consume without a second thought.

Honestly, he couldn't exactly blame Jill or Olive or the Avoxes. After all, they were simply trying to make him and that silly girl Omega feel just that little bit better by serving them food from their home turf.

Still, it didn't change that the creatures of the wild had been killed in the making of this food and that churned up a bubble of unkempt rage within his soul. He wasn't sure who or what it was directed towards, but it was there, simmering and waiting for its moment to finally erupt.

But he managed to keep his cool throughout dinner, politely refusing to eat meat for the simple reason of being a vegetarian. Thankfully, the pastries and truffle fries they served were delightful, their warm aromas battling the stench of meat, filling Kieran's lungs with solace.

"Private sessions are tomorrow," Jill reminded them, calmly sipping a chalice of red wine. "Any plans?"

"I'm gonna shoot some arrows," Omega said thoughtfully, an eager glint in her eye. "If all goes well, I should get a six or seven, maybe an eight if I'm truly lucky."

Kieran resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He'd seen her archery skills in training and impressive as they were, she had to be absolutely idiotic or obscenely arrogant or both to believe that she could ever possibly get an eight. Such a score was unheard of even in the relatively strong District of Seven, since the flash and charm of the Careers was always bound to usurp any meagre skill they had in the eyes of the Gamemakers.

Jill seemed to echo his feelings, although she was far more diplomatic than he was in expressing them. "I wouldn't be too hopeful if I were you. Ruby is a notorious figure even within the inner workings of the Capitol. She's not the type to give Outliers merciful scores, regardless of how skilled they actually are. Even the Careers are going to be heavily scrutinised so I'd be happy with a six."

Omega nodded, although Kieran didn't miss the irritated look that flashed briefly across her face.

"Although," Olive chirped. "Her assistant Gamemakers Aurora and Tempus are reportedly a lot more merciful. Remember, they've got a huge say in the scores too, if they can convince the other Gamemakers to give you a higher score, well, Ruby might just have to compromise. You've got a chance, just saying."

"That is true," Jill agreed. "However, again, it very much depends on Ruby's mood on the day itself. She's got the biggest say, and I don't particularly trust her volatility. That woman's got a twisted mind, you know." She turned to Kieran, her eyes brimming with concern. "Kieran? How about you? Any plans for tomorrow?"

Suddenly, Kieran could feel the weight of way too many pairs of eyes dart towards him, fiercely slashing through his walls and exposing his fragile inner self. He nearly shrunk into his seat, a rush of uneasiness coursing through his veins.

What was he going to do tomorrow?

He supposed he had gotten quite good with archery, having spent quite a fair amount of training testing out the different draw weights of the Capitol bows, trying to find the one that was most suited for him. Was he as good as Omega? Doubtful, but he couldn't really think of any better ideas.

Shrugging, he replied, "Archery too, I guess."

Jill nodded in understanding, although her brows knitted anxiously. "Hmm, my only worry is that with two archers in a row, your session will be fresh in their memories when Omega comes in. The one that hits fewer targets might find their scores dunked as a result. But it shouldn't be too big of a problem, I saw you in training, your skill level should be fine."

Kieran muttered a quick agreement, desperate to get the spotlight away from him as soon as possible. Luckily, Jill was kind enough to change the subject. "Alright, now that everyone's eaten, I suggest the two of you go have some rest. It's going to be a long day tomorrow, it'll be good if you can unwind a little bit tonight and do something that makes you feel good."

"Yeah, chill a bit, don't be too uptight guys," Olive agreed. "Come on, Omega, I've got something to show you." With that, the pair disappeared into Omega's room and were out of earshot.

Jill turned to Kieran, but before she could say anything, Kieran was already on his feet and hurriedly shuffling towards his own room. The door slammed shut and Kieran was all alone again, at long last. He heaved a sigh of relief. Racing his fingers through his hair, he took a deep breath.

Inhale, exhale. It's over now, I'm alone now, it's going to be alright.

His gaze drifted to the constellation chart pasted above the frame of his bed. Evidently, plenty of guys from Seven had been astronomy enthusiasts in addition to music prodigies, not that Kieran minded. It reminded him fondly of the star chart his foster parents had helped him make in his own home in Seven. He took a brief look out the window, although he knew it would be in vain. There were no stars to be seen tonight, that much was obvious. The city lights of the Capitol were simply too bright for the night sky to showcase any of its hidden glowing trinkets, the powerful beams of the homes and buildings within the cityscape blindingly shielding the city folk from being able to enjoy any modicum of decent astronomy.

But hey, at least the moon could be seen, barely peeking out from a plume of smoke and clouds. It wasn't much, but it was as good of a reminder of his endless nights stargazing with Nathaniel as he could possibly get here.

Oh, Nathaniel…

His limbs slackened and he could feel the weight of his own body getting heavier by the second. All of a sudden, the world blurred and Kieran could feel himself slipping deeper and deeper into a realm of nostalgic memories…

Thunk!

Kieran blinked, awakened from his sombre trance. He glanced around him, searching for the source of the sound, but he couldn't see anything, or anyone.

Clang!

Kieran frowned. Tiptoeing towards the air vents, where he thought the sound was coming from, he peered inside, wondering if investigating the noise would be a good idea.

Thump! Thump! Thump!

Three quick, successive thumps, almost like some sort of signal, coming all the way from the bottom of the air vents, perhaps from one of the lower floors. Secretly, he hoped it was a sign that one of the Careers or at least a stronger tribute had gotten hurt.

Thump! Thump!

Two longer, more drawn-out thumps, coming from the same source. Before Kieran could even rack his brains, something else occurred.

Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!

Two quick bangs, one drawn-out bang, followed by two more quick ones, this time coming from a floor below his, but further up the vents than the original thumps.

Was this some sort of secret cult sending out messages?

Thunk!

"Hang on…" he murmured.

That had not come from below.

Or even above.

That final thunk, and the subsequent series of thunks right after, had come directly from the room right beside his.

Jill's room.

"What the heck?" he wondered aloud, slowly backing away from the air vents, utterly baffled.

Perhaps it was high time he tried to get some sleep.