Klara Esosa, 18, District 2
Klara is exhausted.
The interviews are over and the adrenaline that was fueling them has finally subsided. The noise has lessened significantly as the audience, tributes, and mentors begin to clear out. Klara looks for an escape as well, yet of course, Amatus is drawn into conversation with their mentor and she's unable to get a word in.
I could just walk out. They consider it, but she's done so well so far to play the part of a proper Career. She scored well, didn't stumble along in her interview, and they were even able to surpass the question about her family when asked.
(About their father.)
So as much as they want to leave and get out of their costume and into bed, they need to wait until the right time.
Her eyes find District One, or at least what's left of One. Vitali, or Valerian, has already made his escape. Choux and their mentor stand not too far away from Klara, seemingly in conversation.
Or rather, the mentor is talking to Choux, and Choux is locked in on Klara.
She doesn't know what draws her to the pair, maybe it's because Choux isn't as insufferable as their own District partner, or maybe because she's the only one Klara feels isn't harboring some ridiculous secret or betrayal just waiting to unleash itself.
Not like Vitali, or Valerian, or whatever his name is. Klara promised to keep his secret.
Eleanora and Dahlia; Amatus is convinced one of them is a snake, a traitor, desperate to claim their spot by sabotaging another.
Cali and Ronan have more going on than they care to admit.
Why does everyone have a fucking secret?
"Hey," Klara says to the duo. The mentor smiles at them.
"Hey. Congrats on a good interview. I know it's nerve-wracking," she says as her eyes search over the tributes that are still huddled around. "I'm going to find Vitali. Are you okay, Choux?"
Choux nods, an affirming grin falling on her face. Convinced, her mentor takes her leave and Klara feels a weight off their chest.
(She doesn't know what about the girl makes her feel this way. They've been acquainted for less than a week. Klara's never made a habit of relying on someone else, yet they've also never been surrounded by so much at once.)
"What's on your mind?" she asks.
"Nothing new. The arena tomorrow. How…willfully unprepared I think some of us are," they reply.
"Hm. I would say the same. Soraya refuses to believe that, though. So, I haven't." Choux tilts her head. "What have you noticed?"
"Amatus, making things more complicated than they need to be. Eleanora picks fights before the fighting has even begun. Dahlia riling her up. I can't wrap my head around what happened in those private sessions," Klara admits. Choux shrugs.
"We may never know, unfortunately. And the Fours?" she asks. Klara shrugs.
"I keep getting the sense they're not on the same page. I mean, they're on a different page than everyone else, but I don't know. Do you see it too?" they ask.
"I think so. A harder pair to crack, I assume." Choux stretches her arms back. "My District partner proves to be similarly closed off."
"Yeah, well, that makes sense for him, given everything," Klara says instinctively, the gravity of her words falling short until Choux's face shifts.
She didn't know. Klara opens their mouth to backtrack, but there's no point.
(It's like she knew already, but needed someone to confirm it.)
"Yes, we certainly have an alliance to watch out for," she finally says after some time. Klara doesn't quite know what to make of the statement. Did they do Valerian a disservice by her conversation with Choux? Klara knows Choux won't tell someone like Amatus, she too wants to keep some semblance of peace.
(The thing is, Klara doesn't know what Choux's game is. Is it to win, just like Klara? Or is there more to the story she's not letting on?)
"Who do you think he'll bring on?" Klara asks as they watch Amatus head for the elevator. Choux shrugs.
"It's impossible to tell with him," she says nonchalantly.
"Who do you want him to bring on?" Klara asks, knowing each Career has a preference either way. Yet Choux responds with another shrug, perplexing them even further.
"I hope whoever it ends up being is the least disruptive," she says.
Disruptive? It takes Klara a moment to consider what she means by that. And once she does, they couldn't agree more.
(This whole damn alliance has been nothing but disruptive, and Klara has barely kept their head above water. They thought they were the only one feeling that way, but if Choux feels the same…
She might just be able to pull through it all with an ally by her side.)
Chaffinch Canasto, 13, District 11
Chaffinch lays curled up on his nest, trying to take Vetiver's advice to get some rest. Except he struggles with something as simple as that. He's not used to sleeping in a place so quiet, in a room that has no scent. When the Avoxes tried to clean up his nest, he freaked out.
What if where Vetiver says they're going doesn't have those things either? When will Chaffinch get a good night's rest again?
(Will he even go there with Vetiver? Or is he angry with him, too?)
Chaffinch doesn't think he was supposed to hear the girl's angry words.
"An alliance is supposed to agree on the things they're doing." He didn't understand what he heard, not at first. He's used to hearing things he's not supposed to, without anyone noticing. He's used to ignoring those words or using them against that person at a later date.
(He snuck back to his station, and Vetiver joined him, and Chaffinch could read it all over his face.
It screamed guilt.)
Vetiver had offered the alliance with Chaffinch, and Vetiver was the one scolded.
(It's Chaffinch's fault.)
Chaffinch rolls over on the bed. It reminds him of home, and it comforts him.
(Until he thinks about his caregiver, and how she disappeared without notice. Why did she do that?)
Chaffinch sits up, sweat pooling behind his neck. It's not warm in the room, and he's unsure what's causing it.
Next thing he knows, he's standing and pacing the room. It's claustrophobic, the four walls around him. The window doesn't open, and it's not breakable. Chaffinch tried many tools to crack it open, and nothing worked.
He's trapped.
Why is he here?
Why was Astel mad at Vetiver? She shouldn't be mad at him, Chaffinch's mind bounces around like he's bouncing around the room.
She doesn't trust him. She doesn't trust me. She doesn't like me. Is she going to hurt him? Standing on the floor is suffocating Chaffinch, and he scurries up the tall dresser and lays on his stomach.
(The tears still fall to the floor below him.)
She doesn't like me and she doesn't like him and it's my fault and maybe that's why she left me in the barn and never came back.
(He doesn't blame her. Chaffinch isn't oblivious, he knows other kids don't act like him. They use their words and they live in buildings and they have 'parents' and 'siblings' and they don't know how to make straw beds or climb trees, or maybe they do but they're not as good at it as he is.
Maybe she found a different little boy to care for.)
Astel and Vetiver shouldn't have to take care of Chaffinch, not if that's going to make them fight. Chaffinch only likes seeing fighting when it doesn't involve him. It's more entertaining that way.
(There's nothing entertaining about this.)
Neve told him and Reagan to get some sleep before tomorrow. Chaffinch doesn't know what's waiting for him tomorrow. He hoped to see Vetiver, to try and understand things he couldn't, but after the spectacle on the stage, he didn't see him.
He rather enjoyed his conversation on stage. Sure, he wasn't sure what the purpose of it was, but the guy he talked to seemed to enjoy Chaffinch's expressions and gestures enough to get him by.
(Did Vetiver enjoy it? He wonders.)
Chaffinch doesn't have experience with a sibling, but based on what he's heard around him, he understands it well enough, he thinks. Vetiver could be his sibling.
(Does Vetiver want that, though?)
Whatever comes in the morning, Chaffinch doesn't know where he stands with his group.
(The longer he thinks about it, the more he doesn't want to be a bother to them anymore.
If he leaves first, they can't hurt him.
He won't be abandoned a second time.
He can't.)
Vetiver will understand. He's the only one that seems to understand.
(Chaffinch just hopes Vetiver can forgive him.)
(Chaffinch might not forgive himself.)
He falls asleep on top of the dresser and dreams of trees. He dreams of flying. He dreams of teaching Vetiver to fly.
He's happy.
Caliadne "Cali" Karpathos, 18, District 4
Cali didn't think it could get more complicated than this.
It's hard enough to get Ronan to take anything seriously. She prepared for that when Callista suggested they keep their friendship private.
(She didn't prepare for him to abandon her as soon as they volunteered.)
She feels silly for expecting more from him, she's decided. They knew what they were getting into when they started training.
(She knew what she was getting into when she agreed to train him.
But then she thinks about the painting on the roof and the first kiss they shared, and she's swept under the waves again.)
She slams her fist on the mattress. How could she get herself into this mess?
(She thinks of the good moments. The happy moments. She only rose to the top of the Academy because of him. She escaped her parents because of him.)
As hard as it is to admit, Ronan Nieimi changed her life for the better.
Her brother once told her that each person who comes into her life comes and leaves for a reason. Sometimes that reason is obvious, and sometimes it's less so. At the time, she didn't think much of it, the only people that were really in her life were her parents, who were awful, and her brothers.
Maybe Ronan's purpose was to get her here, and now that she's here, she has to prove it wasn't a mistake.
She rolls to her side, sleep at no danger of flooding over her.
(She can't accept the thought that Ronan's purpose in her life has come to an end, yet the nagging feeling in her won't go away. They've both always known that only one of them can come out alive. Perhaps they've been too distracted with everything else to stay grounded in that reality.)
Maybe Ronan realized it, and that's why he pulled away when he did. Maybe Cali is the fool for dawdling slowly behind him.
She'll be in the arena in the morning alongside Ronan and twenty-two others who would all see her dead if it meant they could go home. She chose to be here, to escape the horrors that she once called home, to make the life that she deserves.
She can't go halfway. She's going to give the arena her all, and she has to come out victorious.
(Why is it so much easier said than done?)
She rolls to her back and her eyes fall to the dark ceiling. She wonders if Ronan is struggling to sleep too.
Stop thinking about him, she thinks.
You can't¸ she also reminds herself.
All because of what he said at the interviews.
She asked why, but he didn't answer. Callista asked why, and he shrugged her off too. He effectively stuck a dagger in the back of his mother, and she surely won't let it go without consequences.
(Yet he kept their relationship a secret. He gave the Capitol a better story, one of a brother's dedication and sacrifice.)
And still, she can't help but feel like he's gaining from it all. The sympathy from the Capitol, the avoidance of addressing their connection yet still reaping the benefits from it.
Is he doing it for them both, or just himself?
Cali doesn't want to know.
Her eyes fall shut and she makes an overdue promise to herself. When the fight begins, and the blood starts to shed, all of her attention will redirect to herself. Not to Ronan. Not to Amatus, and the game he's playing with the outliers. Not to Choux or Vitali or Klara. To herself.
Caliadne Karpathos has to leave it all behind to come out Victor, and that's exactly what she plans on doing.
Aizen Miura, 12, District 12
"Aizen, look at me," Grey's soft voice succeeds in pulling his attention towards his mentor. It does nothing to slow the tears that he can't seem to control.
We're going to die tomorrow. Mori is going to die. I can't stop it. I can't help her. I'm going to die. Thoughts like these and more rattle around Aizen's head and nothing he does, nothing Grey says can stop them.
Grey tries anyway.
"Look at me. You and Mori will run away from the center as soon as the timer counts down to zero. You will not attempt to put yourself in danger. You will get a head start into the arena, and you will have more time to make it deeper into the arena than anyone who goes into the fight. You both are experienced in surviving outside, yes? That's all this is," Grey says.
Mori squeezes Aizen's hand, her stone-cold expression never threatening to drop. Aizen admires that about her, how could he not? She's brave and she's tough and she's going to win.
(If Aizen doesn't drag her down.)
"What if…what if they chase us," Aizen says between gulps of air.
"They won't. The dangerous kids will go into the center, and they will attack the older kids who stick around for supplies, and there will be plenty of them. There always are," Grey says.
"What if we start too far away from each other? What if we can't see each other across the horn? What if…" Aizen's words are cut off by more tears, which he didn't think is possible.
"I will find you. I will come to you, and we will go," Mori says. Aizen's eyes find hers and he's calmed by her resilience. There is no faltering behind her eyes. Nothing to suggest she has nothing but confidence in Grey's plan.
"What about Exa?" Aizen asks. Then, and only then does he see a shift. Subtle, nothing severe enough for him to worry more than he already is.
"She knows the plan, but we will remind her in the morning. She too, will find you, and we will run together," she says.
Yes, Aizen remembers. We agreed to this in training. Exa knows the plan. She agreed to the plan. It's a good plan.
Aizen should be calmed but there's not a single part of him that can do that and he thinks he knows why.
"I'm sorry," he says to his friend.
"For what?" she asks.
"For…being here. For dragging you down. I…I don't think I'll ever understand why you did that. I shouldn't have stepped in. I panicked. I'm sorry." He's not sure if his words make sense but they must, in some way.
"It's okay. I'm sorry, too. I want to protect you," she replies.
I want to protect you, he wishes he could say through the tears but the words get stuck in his throat.
"You two are strongest together. Don't forget that. And I will support you both every step," Grey says. Aizen believes him. He's glad Grey has been there for them. He's glad Mori is there for him.
(Aizen Miura doesn't want to be here and yet, he has no intention of returning to Twelve without Mori by his side, and he's come to terms with that. He will always be the boy who killed his father, the one other boys like to pick on. He will never escape that, but Mori can. She can win and make a life for herself at home without Aizen dragging her down.)
Aizen hasn't done a lot of good in his short twelve years, but this is something he can do and something he will do because Mori deserves it.
"We can do this?" His statement sounds more like a question, and Mori nods.
(He smiles through the tears. The prospect of dying still scares him, but dying with a purpose, well, hopefully when the time comes he's brave enough to tackle it head-on.)
Astel Norwood, 17, District 7
Everything is falling apart.
Astel is frustrated. She thought she had everything under control. The plan is so spotless in her mind, yet unraveling at the seam at every turn.
Vetiver and Owain for survival. Hem for sponsors. All four of them offer just enough to make it through the first few days of the fight. This would allow Astel to get settled in the arena, to have a decent grasp on the best spots for water, food, and shelter.
Except somehow Chaffinch weaseled his way into the alliance, Owain barely wanted to cooperate with her, and Hem failed to do the one thing Astel was counting on her to do.
"Emphasize your alliance. If your parents are sponsoring you, they'll want to know they can trust us too," Astel had told her during training. She seemed to understand it at the time, and Astel had full confidence she would follow through.
She didn't. She used all her time to play that stupid instrument instead.
If the four- no, five of them can group up and get out of the bloodbath without a problem, then Hem's parents will know who to sponsor anyway. Yet Astel has seen bloodbaths turn chaotic quickly, groups ending up split up during the madness of it all, and she can't rely on things to work out perfectly.
I had it all planned, and it's all fallen apart, Astel thinks to herself. With the arena imminent, there's not a single thing she can do to fix it.
Breakfast is quiet. Darrah gives them some last-minute, simple advice.
"Avoid the center. Figure out where water might be. Get out of there before the chaos begins."
Easier said than done.
Darrah takes them to the very top of the training center, where four hovercrafts are waiting on standby to take the tributes to the arena.
Astel should be frightened, yet she only feels frustration.
Darrah says something about how they'll board based on their platform locations, but Astel isn't listening. She just stands where she's told, and when it's time, she boards the hovercraft.
Astel ends up sitting in the far corner of the hovercraft with a tribute to her right, the girl from Five. One of the girls whom Astel noticed was eager to join the Careers.
"Did you succeed?" she asks. The girl is taken off guard, likely not expecting anyone to speak to her on the hovercraft. A quick glance around the other tributes, the girl from Three and Ten, and the boys from Twelve and Five, Astel can understand why.
"I don't see how that's relevant to you," she snaps back.
"Well, that's because you're not thinking about it," Astel responds, earning herself a death glare from the girl.
The hovercraft takes off, the wind produces a white noise around them. Astel has no idea how long the ride will take, but she can't imagine it'll take long.
"You'll be the first one I go after," she spits.
"Calm down," Astel responds, matching the girl's hostile tone. Somehow, this is what takes her off guard the most. "If you're in, if you're out, it doesn't matter. They will never accept you as an outside district. They hardly accept you now, isn't that right?"
Astel can tell she hit a nerve with the girl, and if they weren't strapped into their seats, she has no doubt the girl would strike. As the seconds tick on though, the girl's anger shifts subtly. Pure anger is replaced by a sense of realization.
Still coupled with anger, though.
A few minutes pass and the aircraft slows in speed.
"What are you asking? An alliance?" the girl finally asks, the least aggressive she's been all day.
"A truce. Should both our alliances…fail, and we find one another. We help one another until we no longer need it," Astel explains pragmatically.
Quiet fills the air as the hovercraft lowers itself underground. No risk of revealing their precious arena too soon, of course.
The six tributes unbuckle, and Peacekeepers lead them off the hovercraft and into the stone tunnel that should lead them to the last room they'll see before they're launched into the arena.
"Fine. You have a deal," she whispers to Astel just before they're separated.
As Astel enters the room and sees the tube that will deliver her to the fight to the death she's going to have to endure if she wants to see home again, all she can do is smile.
She finally feels like she has a grip on everything again, and nothing can break that feeling.
Becca Sryker, 14, District 10
Becca doesn't want to be here.
Not here, in the Capitol. Not on the top floor of the training arena, waiting like cattle to be led to slaughter. Not on the hovercrafts that descend to the roof that she knows she's about to be loaded onto.
Except, the Capitol doesn't care what she wants, it never has.
Raven stands near her as silent as she's been most of the morning. Becca assumes she's run out of advice to give.
'Don't go near the center. Find high ground if you can. Secure a source of water and food.' Becca's heard a lot of that this week, yet she feels no better prepared than she was at the start of it all.
As usual, Becca Sryker will be forced to fend for herself.
(At least that's something she's good at.)
The strange girl from Three stands in front of her, muttering to herself.
Of course, I get the hovercraft with the crazy person. Becca hopes no one can see her eye roll, but decides it doesn't matter even if they did.
On the hovercraft, they go. Becca sits besides Bazooka and the small boy from Twelve, who looks like he's been crying all night.
She almost feels bad for him. She hopes his death is painless.
(She would hope the same for herself, but that's admitting defeat, and Becca hasn't found the strength to do that.)
Bazooka continues to mumble to herself as the hovercraft takes off and Capitol workers begin their rounds inserting trackers into their forearms. Becca grits her teeth during the insertion, knowing that much worse lies ahead of her.
(She's only fourteen. The boy next to her is hardly twelve. Nothing about this, or anything that's been dealt to Becca is fair. Not the years in the orphanage, not the death of her bio parents that put her there in the first place, and certainly not the fact that as soon as she started to feel some semblance of comfort with the Sryker's…
She's brought here to die.)
She closes her eyes and envisions a world where she makes it past fourteen. Where her mothers grow old around her. Maybe she could have gotten to know Annis better. Maybe she could've been a farmer. Maybe, after a decade or two, she could've adopted a daughter of her own.
Bazooka continues to mumble besides her.
"What?" Becca doesn't mean to snap, but she feels at her limit. Not with Bazooka, per se, but with this whole charade of the Hunger Games.
"If I have the right initiator and the right wires, I can create a device so small it can be hidden in something like a-a rock! If there's a delay on the timer, it can be set and I can be given ample time to get away to safety, and oh maybe if I hide the rock in a backpack or supplies it can detonate by an opponent and they won't even know what hit them!" Bazooka clasps her hands together and Becca thinks if she wasn't buckled in, she'd jump around from pure happiness.
(What does pure happiness feel like, she wonders?)
"Why are you telling me this?" Becca asks. If she were crueler, or in an alliance of her own, she would just tell everyone to avoid a lone rock.
Well, maybe not. That might make her sound insane, too.
Bazooka lowers her head and speaks quietly, "No one pays attention to kids like you and me. We're not strong, tough, or a spectacle to stare at. What we have comes out when they least expect it. That's why we're the strongest fighters. We've been fighting our whole life for people to take us seriously."
Becca opens her mouth to retaliate, but all that comes out is quiet air. For the first time in a long while, Becca has nothing to retaliate with.
(It's because, deep down, she knows the strange girl is right.)
The last week plays in her mind, and what she sees stings her heart. Three days in training, and no one paid her a minute of mind. Not her own District partner, not the other kids her age, not even the damn trainers took a special interest in Becca.
No one except Bazooka made an effort.
And no one but Becca approached Bazooka.
If her strange ramblings manifest themself into some sort of plan, it could be game-changing. An unsuspecting explosion to disrupt the strongest contenders here from the least suspecting players.
They would earn Capitol favors, and reduce the playing field significantly.
Becca doesn't hesitate when she says, "Count me in." And the responding smile from Bazooka reassures her of her choice.
(Becca Sryker might not be long for this world, but her life matters and she won't go down without a fight.)
(In the end, she just hopes she can make her moms proud.)
TW: Violence
Nausicaa Halcyone, Victor of the 89th Hunger Games
(How much time has passed?)
The constant stream of light takes away Nausicaa's sense of time.
(Reeling in and out of consciousness hasn't helped.)
It could have been a day.
Bright lights. Loud noises. Pain.
(The pain tells her it's been many days.)
(Yet the pain isn't the worst part. It's the screams. Noises she didn't know she could make.)
(Screams around her, she can't stand the fact she recognizes them.)
She curls up in the corner, her hands over her ears to try and block them out. That's the thing about being…wherever she is. She either blocks out the noises, the yelling, the screams, the threats, or she blocks out the light. She can't do both.
The room around her is concrete. The metal bars across the door tell her she's in a Capitol jail. She doesn't know where. She's never seen this room before. It's different than where she was held after the 95th Hunger Games.
(Maybe a renovation. Maybe a different space.)
She remembers slipping away to her room, contemplating strategy for Ronan and Caliadne. She remembers drinking - she shouldn't have had that fucking drink.
(Because she fell asleep in her bed and woke up here and she'd give anything to take that back, even though she knows that's a futile thought. The Capitol would have gotten her here, one way or another.)
She heard Aleida being dragged in. He had some stream of consciousness left, she could tell by his screaming and swearing.
(More people filtered in and out. Nausicaa couldn't distinguish them. Except for a few…)
"Where is he?" The aggressive tone of President Pitheart strikes fear in Nausicaa she thought she lost a long time ago.
"Over here," someone else says. Footsteps grow louder. Nausicaa doesn't turn around.
"How long were you holding a fugitive?" the president asks. Aleida laughs.
"Fuck off," he responds.
(Nausicaa hears the crack in his voice and she's certain he's willing to die right here and now rather than reveal anything.)
"You could make this so much easier for yourself if you just answered the question," the President says. Aleida scoffs.
"We both know that's not fucking true," Aleida responds.
To her surprise, the President just laughs.
"Do it, then. Let him beg for mercy," he says. "And bring me to our guest. I bet he'll…cooperate." Footsteps lead away from the pair, and a laugh follows.
"You're dumber than you look if you think he'll cooperate with you."
"Oh, but I know he will. Especially after he hears what happens to you, Mr. Edevane." The President gets closer to Aleida.
"If you were smart, you would've taken my offer. Lived in peace for the rest of your life. Now, you'll never see what could have been."
Nausicaa shudders at his words.
(She covers her ears when she hears more footsteps, but it hardly matters when Aleida starts screaming.
At some point, she thinks she screams with him.)
aha
silly me
subplot be plottin
thank you so much to everyone who has been reading, reviewing, and posting in Discord! i actually cannot believe this is the last chapter of pregames and the Bloodbath is so soon...screams in moose
bloodbath poll is on my profile (whenever FFN decides to let it work)! curious to see what you guys think will happen
shoutout to jay for reading early i hope you enjoyed meeting my cats
~moose out. see you on feb 18th.