Launch Morning
PHOENIX AVENA (17)
DISTRICT ELEVEN MALE
Phoenix was determined.
The bright rays of sunshine that flooded through his windows at dawn hadn't exactly been a welcoming sight, though. Phoenix stirred in his bed as he slowly opened his eyes, his eyelids heavy with the weight of the impending day.
Phoenix took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down as fear lingered stubbornly in his chest. Today was the day he'd been dreading and looking forward to at the same time. A day that would end almost a week's worth of anxious waiting and dreading, yet it also carried the dark possibility of death over it. Phoenix was well-aware that he could perish today, but he was also aware of the faint possibility of a quick and easy victory should something like the Thirty-Fourth Games come to pass.
And if so, he would be the one to seize advantage this time, not some ruddy little boy from District Four.
He swung his legs over the edge of the bed, his feet clattering onto the ice-cold wooden floor. Rubbing his eyes, he groggily trudged over to the bathroom to get himself ready and freshened up.
A nice, long shower would be nice.
By the time he got dressed, Chaff was already banging on his door, shouting for him to hurry up. Phoenix sighed. "I'm almost ready, just give me a sec," he shouted back.
As he entered the dining room, he found his mentors, Wisteria and Trish already gathered for breakfast. As usual, a plethora of pastries and meats had been laid before them on the table, their fragrant aromas a reminder of what awaited Phoenix should he achieve victory. But even as the Avoxes continued to pile stacks of food in front of them, no one took even a bite of food.
Wisteria glanced up at him and to Phoenix's delight, that dead, lifeless look that had been a mainstay over the past couple of days had disappeared, replaced by a shimmering glow in her hopeful eyes.
At least she's got more spirit today.
Trish sighed, slowly swirling a tiny spoon around her mug of tea. "Alright guys, we need to eat. Especially you two, I suggest you eat as big of a breakfast as you possibly can. It might be your last meal for quite a while."
Phoenix nodded mutely. He grabbed several bread rolls and began to wolf them down. These would fill him up with sufficient carbs to last at least a couple of days, maybe more if the sheer hunger didn't bog him down too much. His stomach churned a little, protesting the large quantities of food it was being subjected to. But Phoenix forced his meal down nonetheless. If he were to survive the harsh arena conditions- whatever they could possibly be- he had to make sure starvation wasn't an option.
Besides, if I win, then Vitis and Dad will never have to worry about hunger ever again.
A tummy ache was surely a simple price to pay for his and his family's salvation, surely. Trish glanced at them as they ate, munching on some blueberry muffins. She'd had the exact same breakfast every morning and always dressed in the same clothes for the occasion. He wondered if this was one of her 'good luck routines' that she constantly blabbered about. He supposed he could do with a couple of those, although knocking on doors, including open doors, exactly five times before entering was probably not for him. "Wisteria? Phoenix? How are you two feeling?"
Phoenix shrugged. If he were being honest, he didn't know exactly how to feel. Scared of his impending demise? Not really. After all, he had a chance, just like everyone else, why should he be overly nervous? Excited? Again, perhaps not the best word to describe his feelings. He wasn't quite looking forward to the death and devastation that awaited him per se. "I guess I'm feeling alright," he finally said. "Like, I need to see the arena before I process things." A little, emotionless chuckle emitted from his lips. "Perhaps I'll start panicking when I enter the tubes."
"Best if you don't do that," Trish warned.
"I wanna get this over and done with," Wisteria exclaimed, her voice much more hyped up than usual.
Huh, was she actually excited?
"Like, just take me to the arena and let the Games begin, you know? Whatever happens next will happen next, just get me there and I'll do what I gotta do," Wisteria declared. She flashed a toothy smile before chomping hard on a piece of bacon.
"That's… not bad, I suppose," Trish said.
"Remember, unless there's a backpack right in front of you, run away from the Cornucopia," Seeder reminded them.
Phoenix nodded slowly, although deep down, he knew full well he wasn't going to heed this advice. There had been way too many arenas in the past where water in particular was scarce, heck even a nice weapon could mean the difference between life and death. He wasn't sure he would be getting too many sponsors, so any chance at nabbing some handy resources was a good one. Besides, he didn't exactly have a target on his back like some of the other tributes, he doubted the Careers even knew his name.
He was going to do just fine.
Finishing his final bread roll, he wiped his chin with a napkin and stood up, solemnly eyeing the remaining, soon-to-be-wasted rolls of bread that lay on the table.
That could feed so many people in Eleven.
Phoenix made a silent vow to use his endless supply of food and resources as a Victor to help the people of Eleven once he'd won the Games. The Avoxes took away the bread rolls and marched for the bin. Phoenix looked away, the memory of his hungry brother Vitis burning through his mind.
Wisteria trotted up to him, her eyes wide with anticipation. Phoenix smiled down at her and wrapped a brotherly arm around her neck. "We're gonna ace this challenge, right?" she asked, her voice an octave higher as it brimmed with hope.
Phoenix grinned. "Of course, District Eleven's coming to set this arena on fire!" He winced, suddenly remembering the last few instances of an arena inferno. "Or maybe not."
EVIE FAWN (17)
DISTRICT TEN FEMALE
Evie was terrified.
She leaned against a wall in the hovercraft hangar, chewing fervently on her lip. Her chest ached, her stomach groaning as her insides tried to flee their coming fate. Ahead of her were the other tributes, gazing as the hovercraft that was ready to transport them to their likely deaths slowly opened its doors. They stood motionless, entranced by the mechanical sounds that whirred about the hangar, a snapshot of time before untold disaster would befall upon their group.
At the very front of the pack were the Careers, their eyes lighting up with excitement as a ramp for boarding began to lower itself to the ground, beckoning the tributes to come forth.
Of course they were excited, Evie thought to herself with a dark scowl. They were nothing more than brainwashed scumbags who, in a functioning world, would be labelled as psychopathic serial killers.
Yet, as they took their first steps towards the hovercraft, Evie saw in them something she hadn't expected.
Nervousness.
Some of them looked wary, unsure even, as though they were just then pondering their decision to volunteer for the Hunger Games. Behind their steely gazes, Evie could tell that they too, just like the rest of the tributes, were scared of death.
But unlike the rest of them, they'd signed up for this, so Evie still wouldn't mind seeing them being blown to bits in the Bloodbath.
Evie took a shaky step forward, her legs wobbling from the sheer stress of the occasion. Her limbs felt numb, every muscle within her turning into mushy jelly as the world began to spin.
No, no! This can't be happening!
"You okay?"
Evie glanced sideways, only to find Elris peering up at her, concern strewn across his boyish features. He gave her a timid smile. "It's gonna be okay, come on, let's go!"
Did she really look that scared?
Suddenly, Evie grew self-conscious of herself. Panicked, she gazed around to find a couple of other tributes, including Jotham, staring at her as she stood frozen at the back of the group, trembling like some idiot.
Damn it, now they're all gonna pin me as an easy target.
Elris prodded her forward and Evie leapt away from him, swatting his hand away with a little more force than she'd intended. "Leave me alone, Elris," she hissed. "I can walk just fine on my own."
Elris recoiled his hand, a startled expression creeping across his face.
Damn it.
Evie's gaze softened, guilt rising as a bright flush through her cheeks. "I-"
"How about you leave him alone," Elris's District partner and from what Evie could tell, loyal sidekick, Tamsin shouted, marching over, her eyes burning with ignited rage. She stormed up to Evie and although she was a couple of inches shorter, she bore an aura of stoic confidence, one that shattered whatever faltering bits of hope Evie had in her chest. "Listen here, you stuck up little wench, Elris might be nice to your ungrateful ass for now but I swear-"
"Get a move on, you three!" a Peacekeeper screamed, firing a blank into the air. Instantly, Evie felt multiple pairs of rough hands grab her by the shoulders. In an instant, she found herself being thrown to the ground, howling in pain as she clattered onto the hangar floor. Wincing, she rubbed her shoulders, which were sore, but thankfully not injured.
"I'm gonna count to three, if you don't get moving, I will shoot you!" the Peacekeeper screeched. "You District snobs have been nothing but ungrateful these past few weeks and I'm sick and tired of it!"
Past few weeks?
Evie was vaguely aware that there'd been a rise in arson cases within Ten recently, but how the heck did she have anything to do with those?
And had the same thing been going on around Panem?
"One…"
"I'm going, I'm going!" Evie yelped, scampering towards the hovercraft. She was directed to a seat and a seatbelt was strapped onto her.
Across the row of tributes sat Quianna and Fleur, the snobby chatterboxes among the Careers. "Aw look, crybaby girl's finally crawled onto the hovercraft!" Quianna cooed, snickering in Evie's direction.
Evie gritted her teeth, turning her attention away from the pair as the hovercraft doors sealed shut. She looked around her. There were no windows, which made sense, she doubted the Capitol would appreciate a potential future celebrity of Panem knowing where their top-secret bases of operations were. At least fifty Peacekeepers stood guard at various sections of the hovercraft, each armed to the teeth with all manner of fancy gadgets and gizmos. Evie could've sworn she even saw a District Ten-style bullwhip on one of their belts. Alongside the Peacekeepers were several other Capitolite officials and a few nurses, all of whom wore protective gear. When one of them approached her, Evie could just barely see a stun gun hidden in his sleeve.
"Your arm, please," he demanded, his voice muffled by the thick, metallic mask that covered the lower half of his face. With a tremble, Evie extended her arm and the nurse thrust a large needle right into her flesh.
"Ack!" she hissed, biting her tongue so she wouldn't scream in front of the Careers.
"That was your tracker," the nurse explained. "If it malfunctions at any point during the Games, we will kill you in a gruesome way, understood?"
Evie frowned. She wasn't sure how a tracker failing to work was in any way her fault, but she nodded lamely anyway, not wishing to push the aggressive bunch of Capitolites any further.
With a curt nod, the nurse moved on to Levi beside her, a dull, blank expression on the younger boy's face. When he injected the tracker, Levi didn't even flinch, his milky eyes fixed on his shoes. He let out a sigh and slunk into his seat with a solemn shake of his head, as if he'd already anticipated an early arena demise.
Or perhaps he has something under his sleeve.
Evie couldn't tell, but when the pilot barked that landing was set to commence in five minutes, she could feel her heart begin to race.
The Games were about to begin.
MIA KELLER (18)
DISTRICT TWO FEMALE
Mia was calm.
She sat in her chamber underneath the Cornucopia, softly tapping her foot to the melody of a song she'd always sung with Alyaa. A tray of cookies had been prepared for her, which she'd promptly devoured in no time. They were sweet, giving her the perfect sugar boost to energise herself before the Bloodbath.
Her stylist hadn't come down with her, although Mia did notice that only half of the tributes' stylists had actually shown up when the tributes had first entered the chambers. But considering how Maximon's was with him, she had a feeling Draco had a hand in her current state of isolation.
Draco.
Her gaze lingered on the cuts that lined her elbow, the red, jarring lines that trickled along dark patches of bruising. She let out a low whistle. "Oh boy, that guy was mad as hell," she murmured, tracing a particularly long scar that ran down to her wrist. Draco had beaten her to a pulp for her antics during the interview, screaming about her 'horrid manners', how she was 'ruining everything for him', how 'the lads were turning him into a meme', how 'unpatriotic' she was and best of all, how she was 'trying to survive even though he'd told her to die'.
Man, Draco was truly one of a kind.
Mia wondered how a rash, angry guy like him ever got to be best pals with President Snow, the methodical, calculating figure that was infamously cautious about even the tiniest of incidents that could poke holes into his reputation. Perhaps Snow wanted a malleable pawn who was popular yet easily disposable. After all, he was surely aware of Draco's, ahem, shenanigans, as the people of Two often referred to them to avoid Draco's prying ears. All Snow needed was to slip a couple of secrets to the news junkies and bam, Draco would be no more, with Freya more than likely stepping up to take over the mantle of the mentor she'd grown resentful towards.
Not a bad plan, and heck, Mia would sanction it too. Freya, for all her business and infamous shouting matches, was far more sane and compassionate than Draco ever was.
Of course, Mia didn't exactly like her either. Freya was still, after all, part of the reason why Mia was sitting here, all alone with her cookies in a chamber right below a future mass gravesite instead of being at home with Alyaa jamming on the ukulele with juice flowing into their tumblers.
She sighed, kicking back as the minute hand of the clock struck ten.
Ten minutes to go.
She feebly picked up the arena attire she'd been given: a blood-red shirt, a red oxide jacket, dark trousers and crimson boots, fairly typical arena wear for a District Two tribute.
"Maybe it'll just be a plain old forest this year," she murmured to herself, but she knew full well the odds of that happening were close to zero. Those two annoying twin Gamemakers Aurora and Tempus had spent the entirety of the last two months or so infiltrating every single newspaper and TV broadcast within District Two, promising a grand arena with plenty of twists and turns, 'especially at the start', whatever the heck that meant.
Mia shook her head grimly as she donned her outfit. If the Bloodbath was really going to be messed up, she would do herself a whole lot of good by getting the heck out of there as quickly as she could.
Besides, Draco's probably put a bounty on my head.
She could picture the looks on the other Careers' faces if Draco had told them he'd sponsor whoever managed to kill her, with extra brownie points if they made it gruesome and early on in the Games.
Gosh, he's actually making me a more appealing tribute to follow.
"Five minutes remaining, tributes," a voice boomed over a loudspeaker that Mia hadn't even realised was there.
Damn it Mia, stop zoning out, you've only managed to put on your boots.
Hastily, she put the rest of her arena wear on and dusted the final bits of cookie crumbs off of her shirt.
"You can do this, Mia," Alyaa's voice rung in her head. "Just keep your head in the game and you'll be back home for supper!"
A wistful smile spread across Mia's face as her thoughts drifted to the little girl who she knew was waiting for her to return home with all the best brownies Panem had to offer.
And she would return with those damn brownies, even if it meant she had to kill a couple of kids along the way.
She paused, suddenly unsure of herself.
Would she really be able to kill?
A part of her tried to boldly claim that she would, if it meant she could come home alive and in one piece.
But deep in her chest lay another more subtle yet far more convincing voice that told her no, killing was wrong, even in such a scenario, only to be used as a last resort.
If Mia was going to win, she was not going to do it the Career way.
As the two voices battled it out for dominance within her soul, the voice from the speaker boomed again.
"Tributes, please step into your tubes."
Damn it, had it really been five minutes already?
She shook herself out of her blank state of mind, mustering the final bits of courage she had within her as she marched bravely into the tube. As the glass sealed itself around her, she took a deep breath.
Hunger Games, here I go.
The tube began to rise.
A light shone in the distance.
Draco's voice began to cackle in her head.
Mia cackled back at it, a wicked smirk spreading across her lips.
She cracked her knuckles.
It was go time.
DUSK LIND (22)
DISTRICT FOURTEEN HACKER
Dusk was eager.
In her eyes, the Games were their biggest opportunity of the year to deal some damage points on the Capitol.
And this year in particular, was going to be epic.
She sat at the Hearth, one of Hestia's famed marshmallows in hand as she tilted her head towards the large screen that showcased the live Games broadcast from the Capitol. Caesar Flickermann was on air with Trish Meeleheide, discussing District Eleven's preparations for the arena. Dusk had to admit, she would love for that girl Wisteria to win the Games. She seemed so fragile, so devoid of any hope in this crushing world, Dusk's heart ached for her. But she'd shown signs of increased energy, if Trish and Seeder's reports were to be believed.
"She's up for the challenge," Trish had assured her in a voice message. "Phoenix's fired her up and she's raring to go."
If Wisteria could win, Dusk figured it would be the ultimate middle finger to the Capitol, a show of defiance against the odds that the Capitol had stacked up against her throughout Wisteria's fifteen years of life.
She would be an excellent rebel and hey, Dusk wouldn't mind getting a few rock-climbing tips while she was at it.
As Trish began to discuss Seeder and Chaff's mentoring, Dusk's attention drifted towards the other citizens of Fourteen who'd begun to gather around the Hearth. At the entrance, Tia and Hestia stood at attention, holding trays of marshmallows and handing out mugs of warm chamomile tea. Dusk was glad that Tia had managed to adapt well to life in Fourteen, regularly hanging out with Hestia and Miri and pulling pranks on fellow Fourteen youngsters whenever she wasn't under the watchful glare of Ice Mason. She'd seen plenty of orphaned kids wander into the frozen halls of Fourteen with barely any fragment of their souls intact, the desperation for any comfort in this cruel world pushing them to make the arduous trek up north.
Some would never recover.
It was a relief that Tia had managed to so, heck, she even integrated well with some of the older folks. Slung around her neck was a bone necklace, crafted by Rune Alyapenryn, the chieftain of the Kamchatkans. Rune had taken it upon herself to showcase as much of her culture as she could to the kids around here, including Tia, showing them how to cook traditional dishes, use medicinal herbs and design ancient crafts. Plus, she taught them some cool archery tricks. Dusk had gone for one of those sessions, only to narrowly miss hitting a terrified Remus, who'd pleaded for her to never try shooting with a bow again.
Needless to say, Dusk had stuck to cyber warfare.
She scanned the hearth, looking for her twin sister, who was uncharacteristically absent from her side. Dawn had disappeared shortly after breakfast, claiming Oakette had given her some 'extra work' to do, but one look in her eyes and Dusk could tell she was lying. She could feel her heart writhing at the mere thought of it.
Why would her own twin lie to her?
They'd been attached to each other from the womb, Dawn had never hidden anything from Dusk, and Dusk had always told Dawn everything.
So what's changed?
She sighed, taking a gulp of her tea. The interview with Trish had ended and Caesar was on his own in the studio, feigning the excitement of a child on Christmas Day as he fawned over several Hunger Games memorabilia that were on sale. A small countdown materialised on the edge of the screen, revealing that they still had ten minutes to go before the Games would begin.
Just about enough time for Dawn to show up.
As if on cue, Dawn burst into the room, nearly tumbling into Hestia. She heaved and panted, swiping away a pool of sweat from her forehead.
The hearth fell silent, the crackling of the fire deafeningly loud amidst the quiet. Dawn's face flushed. "Sorry, am I late? Has it begun yet? I-" Her eyes fluttered to the screen and she groaned, smacking her wristwatch against the wall. "Damn it, this stupid thing's broken!" Hestia gave Dawn an apprehensive look, slowly raising a mug of tea towards her. Dawn grabbed it and began to chug it down. "Oh goodness, I needed this!"
Dusk frowned.
Where on earth had Dawn been?
Dawn swerved towards her, her eyes wide in alarm as she made her way over. From the corner of her eye, Dusk could see Joseph dashing in, his usually tidy hair looking like a bird's nest.
Had those two been together?
Dawn fumbled her way onto the bench, taking a seat beside Dusk. "Sorry, I, erm, was a bit busy with Joseph…"
"Didn't you say you had some work with Oakette?" Dusk queried, raising an eyebrow.
Dawn gritted her teeth, every ounce of energy drained from her expression.
Gotcha, sis.
"So, what were you really up to?" Dusk took a casual sip of her tea, a satisfactory smile crawling up her lips as Dawn gaped at her, the words seemingly lost in her throat.
"I- erm, was with Joseph…" she stammered.
"I could tell," Dusk said with an eye roll. "What, you two are lovebirds now?"
Dawn narrowed her eyes. "Are you jealous?"
"Jealous?" Dusk let out a guffaw. "Oh please, Joseph's my partner-in-crime, when he isn't being a goody-two-shoes, that is. I'd never fall in love with the guy, he's practically my brother!" A sly smile spread across her face. "Heck, by the looks of it, he'll be my brother-in-law in no time!"
Dawn blushed, her face lighting up with a deep, rosy hue. She smacked Dusk, giving her twin a fierce glare. "Don't put it like that, we're just talking, that's all!"
Dusk shrugged, turning back to the screen. "You've lied to me already, can't say I trust you on that one."
Dawn sighed but Dusk could tell she knew fighting was only futile. "Oh, whatever."
"That's what you get for keeping secrets, sis," Dusk murmured, watching as Caesar gave a brief recap of the training scores. "At any rate, how's our plans going? With One, I mean."
Dawn's eyes lit up. "Oh yes, Joseph said he was on the phone with Silver the other day, they've gotten our tech and are constructing the forcefields as we speak."
"And you're sure they got the new and improved designs, not the lousy old ones the Capitol uses?" Dusk asked.
"Oh, sure, they've tested it out, wouldn't let a thing through!" Dawn proclaimed, puffing her chest with pride. "I can say that I helped with that one! Once everyone's attention is turned on the Games, I've got a couple more cyber distractions up my sleeve too, that should buy our guys enough time to set everything up for the grand finale!"
Dusk rolled her eyes. "Go off, I suppose. Well, while you were canoodling with our dear friend, Rune and I were discussing new navigation routes from Four and One to Fourteen, you know, once we've set our plan into motion, that'll bypass the rest of the Districts. And the Kamchatkans foraged some herbs and plant material out in the woods that they say could help us make a breakthrough in medicinal technology, which I'm guessing Four and One will be in dire need of once this shit's over."
Dawn whistled. "Got a lot of stuff done, eh? Well hey, at least I officially have a date before you do. If I remember correctly, that means I win our bet?"
Dusk groaned. "That was from ages ago, we were little kids!"
Dawn smiled coyly. "Doesn't matter, it's still valid. We'll review the terms of our little deal later on." She gestured at the screen. "The Games are starting."
Dusk glanced ahead as the cameras showed the seal of the Capitol. In ten seconds, they would get their first good look at the arena, although Dusk already knew the broad strokes of the arena design. A bunch of unique twists were about to be revealed, some far more sadistic than Dusk would have hoped for, but at least she got a mental headstart.
Still, she wouldn't put it past Ruby Ashgrove to switch things up a little at the eleventh hour and plant decoy pictures to fool them, so Dusk kept her eyes peeled for this year's newest, trendiest mass graveyard.
A graveyard that, thanks to Platrium and Willuna, would be their shot at some good old-fashioned exposing and propaganda.
"Ladies and gentlemen, let the Hunger Games begin!"