Saccharine Esculenta, 18
District One Female, she/her
As Saccharine drifts off to sleep in the Capitol, she, for the first time in a long time, finds herself dreaming.
She dreams of butterflies littering the floor, all the life drained out of them. She dreams of fragile wings crushed under shoes. She dreams of Nectarine, far too young, already forgotten.
(Not by her. Never by her.)
She dreams that she has joined them. Lifeless. Dainty. Perfect.
(No, not perfect. Saccharine was never perfect, only Nectarine. That's why they had to become one and the same, so Saccharine could tear away the world's dreams just like the world had torn away Nectarine's.)
She hears weeping. She knows it is not her own tears that are falling; Saccharine cannot remember the last time she cried. The wings rustle around her as she moves, tiny bodies crunching with every minor shift in balance. But she can't stop, not until she finds the source.
Nectarine. That's what the source has to be. She has only seen her sister's tears fall once before, a lifetime ago. They were still together then. Saccharine had no idea what the future held, and didn't particularly care to find out.
But the more Saccharine struggles, the more she fights, the more the crushed wings build beneath her feet. Her movements grow sluggish, and there's something tight building in her throat, choking her. Saccharine coughs as panic rises, her fingers clutching at her throat as if she can rip it out. But instead, her movements have begun to weaken. Is she dying? Is this what dying feels like? Is this what Nectarine felt?
Something wet drenches her fingertips, and Saccharine pulls them back to see rivulets of blood streaming down her hands, pouring from her throat. She doesn't remember getting hurt.
She doesn't remember how she got here, but now Saccharine can see no way out at all. She's trapped, caged in. She has nowhere to run and no way to fight.
This isn't what Nectarine would've wanted for her.
Morning comes. Saccharine wakes up in the Capitol, in a bed that isn't her own, and hums quietly to herself. It's strange, really, to think that this is sort of like the end. Whatever happens, Saccharine won't be coming back. Not the same, at least.
(Is it normal to feel so much apathy about the concept of her own death?)
She checks the time – 5:58. A couple minutes before her alarm, and certainly before Estelle wanted them up for training. Instead of bothering to go back to sleep, Saccharine sits up, turns off her alarm, and begins getting herself ready for the day.
Any memory of her dream is fleeting, then gone entirely. Saccharine doesn't linger on it for long. She's already drained enough – this new environment has managed to seep every bit of life out of her bones. She's a hollow shell, an empty chrysalis. Funny how that works.
The floor is completely silent as Saccharine pads into the kitchen, dressed and ready for the day. She tilts her head to the side, seeking out any sign of life, but there are none at this hour. There probably won't be for at least thirty minutes. She wants to say she feels an emotion similar to relief, but it's more that she's a bit lighter than normal. Saccharine supposes that will do.
She surveys the kitchen for a moment, taking in the clean and clear space - a completely blank slate. Humming again, Saccharine reaches for the hairtie around her wrist and pulls her hair back.
There's an apron folded neatly in the pantry, which Saccharine puts on before taking out her supplies. She's not exactly sure what everyone would want – nor does she care – so she decides on a sufficient variety. Something that would take enough effort for them to feel obliged to eat it, but not so much that Saccharine overworks herself. Quite the fine line to walk, but she's not going to waste more thought on this than she needs to.
In the end, Saccharine does more preparation than actual cooking. She sets out bowls of yogurt and washes up fruit before grabbing eggs and a pan. Rin will start making the eggs as soon as she figures out everyone's preference; then, once everyone else has gotten theirs, Saccharine can enjoy her own breakfast.
"Saccharine," Estelle says from behind her, "I'm surprised you're up already."
Of course Estelle would be the first one up. Saccharine hums and looks over her shoulder at the blonde who hovers by the table. She clearly wasn't expecting anyone else to be out here – Estelle's still in her slippers and has thrown a robe over her pajamas. Her expression is sleepy and a bit confused, as if she's still trying to piece together why Saccharine is up.
"Good morning," she replies, smiling serenely. "How would you like your eggs?"
"My… eggs?"
Saccharine gestures to the pan in front of her. "There's also yogurt and fruit on the counter."
"Oh." Estelle blinks and shuffles towards one of the bowls. "And, um, just scrambled is fine."
Saccharine doesn't bother asking Estelle if it really is fine. Instead, she grabs two eggs and cracks them neatly into the pan before disposing of the shells in a trash can. The motion is familiar, as if she's done it a hundred times before, but that brings Saccharine no sense of comfort, only a smothering sense of monotony.
She clears her throat carefully. "I do apologize if any of my behavior yesterday was… particularly uncouth. I hope you can understand the kind of stress this whole situation brings about."
Estelle begins to relax, pulling out one of the chairs at the table and sitting down. She crosses her legs and stares down at her fingernails. "I can more than understand," she says, laughing a bit breathlessly. "I was in your situation once, you know."
Of course she knows. Saccharine tries to blink away the sight of Nectarine's pale and lifeless face. "How could I forget?"
"Just…" Estelle pauses, momentarily struggling to find the right words. "Don't ever feel like you're going through all this alone, yeah? I'm here if you need anything."
Her words ring bitterly hollow in Saccharine's ears. She stares down at the sizzling pan in front of her, taking a moment to wonder how she even got here, in the Capitol, halfway into her own grave.
She almost wants to apologize to Nectarine, but Saccharine fears that would ring hollow too.
The rest of the morning is a blur that Saccharine hardly remembers. She thinks she exchanges pleasantries with Alila and Callum as they arrive before going to get ready herself. She pulls on a white shirt and black shorts before turning towards the mirror hanging on the back of her closet door. Saccharine appears perfectly understated, just as she's hoping for.
(She doesn't recognize the girl she sees.)
By the time she's ready to go, she's nearly late for training, a fact that Estelle repeats several times as if it's stressing her out greatly. Saccharine tunes her out soon enough, and she eventually finds herself downstairs with hardly a minute to spare, just as she intended. This way, she can miss all of the obligatory small talk beforehand.
Naturally, the others are already grouped together waiting for her and Callum to arrive. Thessaly offers a bright smile and a wave, Ibai studiously avoids looking at them, Nerissa lifts her chin slightly, and Pantheon waves them over.
"Glad you're here," Pantheon says as they approach. "I was worried you would run late."
Saccharine can't fathom why he'd care so much, but she bows her head anyway. "Thank you for the concern."
"Sorry," Callum says, eyes darting around the group. "We'll fix that tomorrow."
Saccharine catches his intentional use of the word we, but merely hums and turns her head to the side. The rest of the tributes are discussing plans for the day with District Partners and potential allies, all waiting for the trainers to officially release them to get started.
"Excuse me," a voice says, cutting through the commotion. "I'll only need a moment of your time."
The tributes fall silent, each small cluster turning to face Itara Kulkarni. Saccharine blinks in surprise at the sight of the interviewer here of all places, but it appears the woman will explain herself shortly.
Itari smiles and lifts her chin. "I know, it's a surprise to be seeing all of you so early, but we're mixing things up this year. For starters, training is being extended by half an hour each day. This is to make it fair, as I'll be pulling you each back individually to do a one-on-one interview with me. No formality, just whatever you want to say."
Pantheon's eyes widen. "How long are the interviews?" he calls out.
"As long as you want them to be, within reason. These aren't going to be broadcasted live, so you'll have more than the three minutes you usually get. That being said, you'll still have your regular interview."
"So what's the use in both?" a boy in dark green pipes up. "Won't we be getting the same message across?"
"If you want to," Itara acknowledges. "Some of you won't have much to say, others will. I'll be doing my best to curate two unique interviews to showcase your best sides, but you'll have to help me in return. I can only do so much."
A girl in yellow snickers loudly, eyes bright with glee. "What's the turn order, then?"
"No particular order, just whoever volunteers for it first," Itara says. "If there isn't anyone on standby, then I'll have to snag someone from a station. This isn't optional, so keep in mind that you all have to be done by private sessions on day three. If there aren't any further questions, is there someone that wants to get started now?"
The same girl in yellow darts up to the stage faster than anyone else can move. "Me first," she insists. "I've got a lot you'll wanna hear."
To her credit, Itara doesn't even flinch. "Over this way, then, Akira."
Once Itara steps out of the way, another woman steps up and gives a few more general instructions. No purposefully injuring each other. No premature fighting of any kind. No stealing weapons from the room. Lunch will be served around noon. All basic information that goes in one ear and out the other. Saccharine hardly notices the woman stop speaking.
"I think we should split up," Pantheon announces, voice loud and carrying as if he's attempting to boast to the entire world. "In groups of three."
Thessaly brightens at the idea, eyes immediately skipping over to Nerissa. "That's a great idea! I think-"
"I'm going with the Ones."
Nerissa sidles closer to Callum, who looks surprised by this turn of events. Saccharine merely keeps track of the way Thessaly's face falls into a pout.
"Aw, c'mon Ner," Thessaly whines playfully, "don't be that way."
"I'm not being any way at all," Nerissa says stiffly. "I think the Ones will have something interesting to offer me."
"Like what?"
A hint of amusement curls up the corner of Nerissa's lips. "Peace and quiet."
Nerissa either doesn't notice or doesn't care that this only encourages Thessaly even more. Thessaly places a dramatic hand on her chest, then mocks wiping away a tear. "Oh, how you wound me!"
Saccharine quickly tunes them out. If she had the option, she'd prefer not to be here while they banter. She supposes she's glad she'll just be in Nerissa's company today. On her own, Nerissa seems… tolerable enough, given that Thessaly is the one determined to drag some sort of reaction out of her.
Interesting. Saccharine will have to keep an eye on that one.
She turns her attention to the others. Pantheon is determined to garner attention from anyone and everyone at any given moment. She figures it must be overcompensation, but Saccharine isn't sure why. If she's inevitably going to tear the pack apart at the core, Saccharine will need to learn what makes them tick one way or another.
Then there's Ibai, who's rather skittish in the large group but significantly more relaxed with Thessaly or on his own. He seems relatively reluctant to be here, which is strange considering he volunteered for this just like the rest of them. Another mystery, but one Saccharine isn't sure she can get to the bottom of.
And last is Callum, who's only around because Saccharine can't trust him to run off with anyone else. She doesn't understand his whole deal, and considering he's her District Partner, he has the most chances to figure her out. Saccharine doesn't consider that to be a likely option, but she's going to cover her bases anyway.
As a whole, they're all… fine. No one is particularly threatening or very interesting; Saccharine will not hesitate when she cuts them down. None of them are as good as Nectarine, either. Saccharine can't imagine any of them deserve to win.
Not even herself.
Nolan Okorie, 18
District Eleven Male, he/him
Nolan's mission to make it out of the Games alive is already turning out to be a lot easier said than done.
Not that he didn't expect this – Nolan knew the odds would be stacked against him. But as he sits on the cold floor of the training room a world away from Eleven, he truly feels like there's no way he'll ever go home at all.
He's starting to believe that he's stuck. And Nolan has been in jail before, for Panem's sake – it's hard to replicate that sheer lack of freedom, but this is sure getting close. Nolan's been ushered around, told what to do, what to wear, and it's only the first full day. That's not to mention the amount of attention he's getting. He's beyond convinced that whoever came up with the bright idea to give him such a high predicted placement is purposely trying to fuck him over, which further lends itself to his theory that he got rigged in.
It's frustrating, really. Nolan was finally close to things getting better. Things haven't been better in a long time. Not since Ryker, maybe. And now all of that is nothing but a distant memory, one that's painful to revisit.
So he wipes his mind clean instead. Nolan needs a blank slate now more than ever. He can already begin to feel his nerves fraying, and if he lets that continue, he might do something he regrets. It'll be easier if he can take his mind off of his past entirely, give himself room to have a future.
God, how he longs to have some sort of future.
His reverie is soon broken by a girl that sits down across from him. Nolan frowns and ducks his head, hoping that if he keeps to himself she'll just leave him alone. Much to his dismay, she starts talking.
"You're Nolan Okorie," she says, picking up some flint. Her words are more statement than question, as if she's trying to catch up with an old acquaintance. Considering he's never even spoken to her before, Nolan's not quite sure what to make of that.
After a moment, he sighs, realizing that she's waiting for him to respond, to make this into a proper conversation. Nolan hasn't had to carry on one of those in quite a long time.
"That's me," he replies, voice slightly hoarse. He coughs to try and clear his throat.
The girl blinks at him before pursing her lips. "I'm Jasmine, Jasmine McCoy."
Oh, right. She wanted him to ask for her name. Nolan pauses and tries to think about what comes next. "Nice to meet you?" is what he finally lands on.
"Yes," she says, sitting up a little straighter. "Anyway, now that I know you and you know me, let's talk business."
"You only said your name-"
"I'm looking for a strong ally," Jasmine continues, raising her voice slightly to talk over him. "Literally physically strong, I mean. I might be able to handle myself in some situations, but my true strengths lie elsewhere. I want someone that can counteract my weaknesses and make the ideal partner."
"You…"
"So, naturally, I watched the reapings plenty of times." She doesn't seem intent on stopping just yet. Nolan almost wonders if she has this whole interaction scripted out in her head. Maybe if he stops talking, she'll give him a cue for when he's supposed to jump back in. "I'm smart. I can think through ways to get us out of plenty of situations, but I need someone like you to actually follow through with it. I'll camp out at the various survival stations these next few days, and you can focus more on weapons or… whatever you want to work on."
Nolan nods along, only half following. Sure, he's picked up on the fact that she wants to ally with him, but he's still not sure why. She could've chosen anyone else to approach for this plan, but why him?
"Together, we'll be a completely unstoppable team." Jasmine grins at him, and Nolan wonders if he's missed part of her tangent. "So? What do you say?"
"Um…" he trails off, unsure how he's supposed to respond. A quick and easy yes or no doesn't seem to suffice, not when he's really looking for more details. Nolan knows the benefits of having a partner in crime – so to speak – and if Jasmine really has something up her sleeve, then she may end up being useful. But until he can prove she's more than talk, he'll opt for playing hard to get.
"I don't know," he says slowly. "You've made plenty of assumptions about what I can do, and you've offered up none of your own strengths."
"I said-"
"Sure, but what can you do?"
Jasmine huffs and crosses her arms. "I'm not in the business of sharing my strengths with someone who might use them against me later."
"Then I guess we're stuck. I can't say yes if I don't know what I'm getting into."
The girl frowns at him petulantly. She takes a few moments to concentrate on the station in front of her, evidently thinking over his words. Nolan watches for a bit before returning to his own work, figuring she'll speak up again when she has something worthwhile to say.
Besides, this silence gives him a chance to think a little more. He doesn't like how reluctant she is to talk about her own strengths. In a way, he can understand the lack of trust, but he currently doesn't have any reason to trust her either. That being said, he knows that those with allies normally do better in the Games, and he should probably find one to work with. Nolan just… isn't sure if Jasmine is the right person.
His hand quietly seeks out the pendant around his neck, rubbing against the silver crane for comfort. What would Ryker do? What would Ryker do?
This would all be so much easier if Ryker was here. Not physically here, obviously; Nolan would never wish the Games on his lover. But death is a cruel boundary, one that continues to separate them, and even though Nolan can still feel Ryker's presence… it's not the same. It'll never be the same again. And no matter how hard he tries, he'll never truly know what Ryker would do in this situation.
More than anything, Nolan wishes he had a way to change the past. But all he can do is continue moving forward, towards whatever his fate may be. Nolan knows it's too much to ask for his life to be in his own hands.
Across from him, Nolan hears a huff, and he glances up to see Jasmine sitting a little straighter. She's clearly gained her confidence back, which is concerning; Nolan can tell she won't let this one go easily.
"Allies are mutually beneficial," she begins, a little too stiff for it to be natural. "If we work together-"
"This sounds rehearsed," he points out.
Jasmine flushes slightly. "Well, I didn't want to mess any of it up."
"So it is rehearsed."
She barely pauses. "I guess so. You could call it that."
"Why?"
"You were my first choice. I wanted to present the best case possible."
Nolan almost smirks. "You're still doing it."
"Doing what?"
"Sounding far more official than you need to."
She appears to be stumped for a moment. Jasmine twists her lips. "Is that really so bad?"
"I guess not," he says slowly, "but are you saying what's really on your mind, or are you saying what you think I want to hear?"
Her eyes flutter shut, and she thinks for a moment before sighing to herself. "I'm not looking for a friend. I didn't approach you because I thought you'd be nice to spend time with or because I'm lonely. I thought you were the best option for what I need."
"What you need?"
"I want to go home," she says, leveling her gaze on him. "And I think you're my best chance. If you're willing to be my best chance, then I'm willing to be yours in return."
A second chance. A new beginning.
Nolan suddenly remembers his family, the way they all looked at him when they realized goodbyes might be the last time they ever saw him. He swallows and looks down, avoiding Jasmine's gaze. He needs a moment to think about this.
Her last plea seems… honest. More honest than she's been the rest of the time. This makes him more than a little concerned that she's trying to get an in with him solely for her own benefit. The last thing he needs is to be backstabbed in the heat of the Games.
So he thinks on it a little more. Her insistence on them being able to balance each other out probably hinges on the fact that he's strong, so she's likely smart and wants someone to physically cover for her. He knows from experience that working with someone else is beneficial in the long run, but Jasmine's attitude has him worried that this might be a trap of some sort.
Even so, he can't deny that this might be his best chance of getting home. If that's the case, then Nolan would be a fool to say no. He just has to make sure he doesn't get in over his head again.
What would Ryker do?
"I want a test run," Nolan blurts out, trying to buy himself more time.
"A test run?" Jasmine looks mildly baffled, so he's at least succeeded in throwing her off enough to give himself some leverage.
He nods once. "Like… you teach me something, I teach you something. To test out this whole teamwork thing."
She tilts her head to the side. "Like… equals."
His shoulders begin to relax. "Yeah. Just like that."
Jasmine smirks and sticks out her hand. When Nolan stares at it a beat too long, she says, "Shake on it."
Ever so carefully, he extends his own hand, and she gives it a firm shake. Once that's done, she stands up and hums to herself. "Tomorrow, then."
"Tomorrow?" Nolan asks, slightly taken aback.
"Yup!" she says, surprisingly chipper. Nolan's starting to wonder if he's not sure what he's getting himself into. "That gives me time to prepare."
"Prepare…?"
"For what I'm going to show you."
Nolan isn't quite sure what to say in response to that, but he doesn't want to continue parroting her, so he pauses for a moment. He supposes this was his idea, and she does seem genuinely excited now, which surely can't be a bad thing. Probably. Well, he hopes, anyway.
"Tomorrow, then," he says, already going back to the task at hand. Maybe she'll forget by then and he can return to his original plan of going at it alone.
Or maybe, just maybe, Nolan will have to learn to work with someone again. He's genuinely unsure what the best option would be.
Come back. Make it right. Don't fuck it up.
He has to try. Has to find a way to give himself the best chance he can. He owes it to his family, to himself.
Nolan can only hope he gets a chance to make the most of it.
Kodo Hotakim, 17
District Nine Male, he/him
Kodo Hotakim can say, with full confidence, that he has no fucking idea what he's doing.
This is… not exactly out of the ordinary. The life of an actor requires one to think on the fly, not just follow a script, so surely Kodo can rise to this challenge as well. After all, he's the one that set the rules.
Looking back, Kodo doesn't really know what he was thinking. Well, he knows the thought process, but he still can't fathom how it got him stuck in this situation of all things. It took a few easy logical jumps, and then suddenly Bonnie's mouth was on his, and-
He shudders. He can't think about that right now.
Anyway, Kodo knew he needed something he was good at. The only thing he's really good at that might help in this situation is acting, and he remembers in years past that a good romance always hits right with the audience. And while his father might not be good for much, Bonnie's presence is already tied to his. While she's normally not the type of person he'd ever willingly interact with, Kodo was sure she was his best chance going forward.
Chance for what exactly? Well, Kodo's in the market for sponsors right now. That's the most fickle part of this whole situation – he has both the most and the least control with regards to how many people are willing to pay to see him keep fighting. What he needs is a story, a good narrative, something to keep them coming back for more. A blossoming romance with his District Partner who volunteered for his sister is a pretty good place to start, all things considered.
Maybe they've gone a step past blossoming now. Kodo hasn't exactly taken the time to make sure they've gotten their story straight yet. Bonnie seemed averse to the idea of her volunteering as a show of love for him and his family – he really can't imagine why – so he's not entirely sure what sort of lie to make up for that one. That probably won't be his problem, though. If Bonnie didn't like his suggestion, then she should come up with one that's better.
Kodo sighs. He should really stop getting stuck in his head so much. He works best when he can think on his feet, treating the world like it's some grand improv lesson, but this past day or so has required a great deal of thought. If his plan is going to work, then he and Bonnie both have to make sure they don't slip up at any point. Any break in immersion will ruin their little show entirely.
And Kodo can't have that happen.
When he first proposed the idea to Bonnie, he'd fully expected her to put up a fight about it. What he hadn't expected was for her to end the argument by kissing him. He truly can't wrap his mind around how Bourbon Jaque works, but Kodo doesn't fully care to try either. As long as she serves her purpose by keeping the both of them alive a decent way into the Games, that's all that matters to him.
(And the kiss itself? Well, Kodo doesn't have anything to compare it to, but it was… perhaps grosser than he imagined. Not that he'd ever imagined kissing Bonnie in particular, just… a kiss in general. He can't fathom having to kiss her again and again, all for show, and pretend he's in love or something.
Kodo can come up with a million reasons why he'd never be even remotely infatuated with Bourbon, but he's placed himself in a position where he has to find new ways to prove it every day. He's quite certain of how far he's willing to go to prove this fabricated relationship isn't just a farce, and he can only hope Bonnie is willing to follow his lead.
If they can't buy into the relationship, then no one else will either.)
He finally turns his attention to the girl next to him, who is resolutely working on the station. Kodo sort of stopped registering his surroundings as soon as they sat down, but it appears Bonnie has been working this whole time.
Huh. Guess he really did manage to pick a decent partner.
While he's here, he might as well try to pick up some sort of skill. Kodo picks up a length of rope, glancing at some of the instructions scattered around. He tries to follow them, but he can't quite make his own knot look like the one on the page.
Kodo sighs and chews his lip. His only real option is to start bothering Bonnie until she either entertains him or helps him out.
"Bonnie," he says sweetly. "Can you-"
The girl in question gives him a sudden and fierce glare. After a moment, she thinks better of it, and softens her gaze. When Bonnie speaks, she does so through gritted teeth. "I'd still prefer it if you didn't call me that."
His sly grin widens. "Oh really? What, do you prefer Bonbon?"
Kodo watches delightedly as Bonnie displays her disinterest clearly on her face – she scrunches her nose, at a brief loss for words when faced with two equally repugnant options.
"Or maybe you're just so enthralled with both that I have to switch back and forth." Kodo taps his chin as he thinks. "I'll be sure to come up with more nicknames for you in the future, considering you like them so much."
"You fucking asshole," she hisses, trying to keep her voice low.
Kodo pretends to wipe away a tear. "My beloved Bonbon, it hurts when you speak to me that way."
She levels him with a flat stare. "Shitface. Dickwad. Douchebag. Asshat."
"Now, now, Bonnie, let's not-"
"Or what? You gonna do something about it, you prissy little fuck-"
"Is there anything I can help you two with today?"
In a flash, Kodo drops the rope he'd been attempting to tie and scoops up Bonnie's hand. She immediately stiffens, but doesn't pull away.
The trainer looks down at them, tilting her head curiously. After a moment of assessing the situation – Bonnie's too-rigid features, Kodo's too-wide smile – she merely laughs. "A lover's quarrel, eh? I can't blame either of you in a situation like this."
"It's all the stress," Kodo bemoans, bringing his free hand up to his forehead. "I'm sure you can understand. But despite the circumstances, I'm determined to let my love for Bonbon shine on, to light the way for ourselves."
Bonnie's nose is scrunching again.
"That's… awfully sweet," the woman says, though her tone says otherwise. She glances between them. "What, are you a poet or something?"
"I have a passion for the arts."
"Clearly."
Kodo makes doe eyes in Bonnie's general direction. "I can't help being so inspired when my muse is by my side."
She's almost tolerable like this. Instead of gagging, as Kodo knows she wants to, Bonnie bats her eyes at him in a show of affection. "You're so sweet when you're like this," she coos.
The trainer stares at them with mounting horror. She coughs. "Just… make sure you stay focused on training."
Kodo brightens and drops Bonnie's hand. He plucks the rope off the ground and holds it up to the light. "No need to worry, ma'am! I'm paying very close attention – I'll definitely need this for later tonight."
Bonnie tries to reward him with a sharp smack on the shoulder, but Kodo manages to dodge – barely. He shakes his head and quietly tuts at her. "Now now, Bonnie, you'll have to be careful! I don't want you getting put in a timeout because you couldn't keep your hands off me for a few minutes."
She makes a noise similar to a growl, clearly stuck. Kodo tries to keep a straight face.
"Yeah," the trainer says slowly. "Uh… be careful?"
"We always are!"
She leaves without further comment, and Bonnie huffs at him as soon as the trainer is out of earshot. "What was that?"
He blinks innocently. "What was what?"
"You're goddamn insufferable."
"I'll take that as a compliment from you."
"I didn't mean it as one."
"I'm sure that in my beloved's heart, she wants nothing more than to flatter me, which is exactly how I intend to read this situation."
Bonnie scoffs. "If we weren't stuck here, I'd pummel your ass into the ground."
Kodo pauses and narrows his eyes at her. "Have you done that before?"
"What? Kicked your ass? I'd hope it was a memorable experience, so no."
Rolling his eyes, Kodo frowns at her. "Obviously I know that. I meant… in general. If we're going to be working together, it'd be useful to know your strengths."
He hopes that Bonnie doesn't misinterpret his question. There's no way in hell that Kodo is genuinely curious about whatever backstory she's dragging around, and he hopes to god she doesn't ask anything about him either. The last thing he wants to add to this fake romance is a hint of a real relationship.
"I can more than take care of myself," Bonnie says, lifting her chin. "Weapons or not."
Kodo whistles lowly, taking note of the way Bonnie stiffens. "Real impressive."
"What, you want a demonstration?"
"Aw, I'm sure you couldn't bring yourself to ruin my pretty face. You're the one that has to kiss it later, remember?"
"I wouldn't be missing out on much."
He lets out an indignant squawk. Bonnie seems to figure she's gotten the upper hand, so she leans back and smirks. She's almost feline in the way she lazily stretches out. "I don't lose, so don't worry about that much."
"Is that so?"
"Yeah. Can't be too hard to pick up a weapon around here." She pauses, looking around. "I have no interest in other allies, by the way," Bonnie says, going back to work. Upon closer inspection, Kodo realizes she's been making a trap. "Three or more people bring in the possibility for a weak link, and I don't want to draw further attention to ourselves. Negative attention, that is."
"I wasn't going to suggest it," Kodo replies. "I have no intention of allying with anyone beyond you."
"Good."
"Good."
And with that, they've reached something almost like a truce. It's… strange. It's even stranger because Kodo is beyond sure that they have different reasons for not wanting another ally. Sure, there's the whole liability thing, but Kodo hardly trusts Bonnie as is. He's sure as hell not going to allow another outer District kid to get close.
God, this whole thing is so… so… demeaning. Kodo can hardly believe he's gotten himself stuck in this situation. He's going to die surrounded by a bunch of outer District nobodies.
(Then again, he's the one whose father didn't bother to save him from the same fate as his sister. If he lingers on that for too long, Kodo feels something uncomfortable stir in the pit of his stomach, like if he thinks too much he'll discover something.
So instead, Kodo goes back to pretending. He's always been good at pretending.)
"Bonnie," he whines again, in a high and wheedling tone.
She doesn't look over at him. "I'm busy."
"Oh, but it's been so long since your lips have been on mine… I fear I'll start withering like a flower…"
"That's fucking stupid," she bites back. "You're fine."
"Just one kiss?"
"Can't it wait?"
"No, never, not when my heart is so empty without you-"
"Oh my fucking god."
Without giving him time to finish his sentence – or even his train of thought – Bonnie snatches the collar of Kodo's shirt and hauls him closer. He's given a glimpse of her brow furrowing before her mouth is on his again. It's exactly as clumsy as the first time, but considering Kodo knew it was coming, he actually manages to respond in kind. What he didn't manage to predict, however, was that this would only make Bonnie double down.
What was supposed to be one kiss turns into several – or is it all still the same one? Kodo's not exactly sure, and he's not going to continue entertaining this train of thought right now. What he does know is that this whole… thing has turned into some sort of unspoken challenge between the two, and Kodo is determined not to be the one that backs down first. He squeezes his eyes shut tighter and leans closer, as if that'll give him some sort of leverage here.
"Wow," comes a voice from behind them.
Bonnie shoves him away quickly, blinking in surprise as if she doesn't know what came over her. Kodo merely leans back on his elbows, taking in the duo that interrupted them. They both look more like kids than anything else, and while the boy is at least amused, the girl looks downright disgusted.
"Aleksei," the girl hisses.
"What? I didn't say anything!"
As if she knows won't get anywhere with this, the girl huffs and hurries away – though maybe she's simply too embarrassed to stick around further. Aleksei, however, awkwardly shuffles his feet for a moment before giving them a bright smile. "Have fun! And, um, good luck?"
"You too!" Kodo calls, waving at him.
Aleksei waves back at him, jogging backwards a few steps before running to find his friend. Humming, Kodo tilts his head back and stares at the ceiling.
"Four," he says after a moment of thought.
"What?"
"Out of ten. I'm scoring you, by the way. On the kiss."
Bonnie stares at him incredulously. "You're fucking joking."
He shakes his head sadly. "I'm afraid not. There's far too much room for improvement. I'd consider giving you a five, but… I'd still consider it subpar, not even average."
"You're completely insufferable," she says, but she doesn't go back to her half-finished trap. Instead, her eyes are alight as she sizes Kodo up. "At least this way I can shut you up."
There. Kodo feels as if he's unlocked something that will change the entire game. Even though he knows it's only to prove him wrong in some way, Kodo finally believes that Bonnie is buying into their little show as much as he is.
Now they just have to make sure all of Panem believes it too.
Guinevere Solomon, 18
District Eight Female
All things considered, Gwen would say training is going well for her.
That's not exactly high praise, of course. By comparison, spending a day training for the Games is only marginally a step up from nearly dying from a virus or living in Donovan's household. Nothing bad has happened, but she still can't quite shake the feeling that something might go wrong. That's not exactly new, either. Scarlet's been pretty quiet since the train, but she never stays that way for long.
Maybe she's just watching again. Watching and waiting. Gwen has never fully understood what her endgame is, but she assumes it has to do with Gwen joining her.
She can't let that happen.
At the very least, she has Svelte by her side, and he's starting to relax a bit. Not a lot – he still doesn't particularly want to engage in conversation or open up about himself – but he's finally stopped looking at her like she's about to mug him.
That's not her style, anyway. She never had to outright steal from anyone. They'll hand her their money just to hear some pretty lies.
From what she can tell, the Capitolites are not all that different from the people that would visit her back home. They love hearing what they want to hear, whatever gives them the ability to craft a narrative that pleases them. Ariadne gave her pointers on the matter last night, but that had been under the assumption that she still had a few days to fully craft her persona. Now, Gwen might be up for an interview at any point over these next three days. She's just trying to make it through this day unscathed, and then she can talk to Eirian and Ariadne about what to do tomorrow. That might be a little harder said than done, considering it's likely everyone else's plan as well, but Gwen will just try to keep her head down for now.
She sighs and directs her attention back to the task at hand. She's been camped out with Svelte at the edible plants station for some time now, and they've watched a few others come and go. Gwen has handled most of the polite conversation with them, while Svelte has, for the most part, kept his gaze firmly fixed on the quizzes he's been taking.
"How are those going?" Gwen asks curiously, leaning over to see his progress.
Svelte shrugs, flipping through a stack of cards. "Fine, I guess. The quizzes are set to adapt as I go, so improvement feels like it's slow when the quiz targets my weak points each time."
"Still, you must be going through a lot of those."
Another shrug. "Maybe it'll come in handy."
"Maybe so."
This is how most of their conversations go. Gwen initiates, Svelte responds once or twice, and then it peters out. She discovers that it's difficult to strike a balance between making sure to include him and overstepping.
She sighs to herself. Gwen knows that finding an ally is her best chance at surviving – beyond that, she wants an ally or two. She craves the company, wants someone to spend time with in what might be her final days.
(She doesn't want to spend the rest of her time alone with Scarlet. If she's going to die, she wants to find a way to do it on her own terms, surrounded by her own people.
She won't let Scarlet define her any longer.)
"Oh my god," Svelte mutters. He ducks his head quickly, trying in vain to look like he's paying attention to the cards in his hands.
"What?" Gwen asks worriedly. "Is something wrong?"
He grits his teeth. "I made eye contact with someone and she took it as a sign to head over."
"Who?" Gwen asks, lowering her voice in case they're approaching.
Wrinkling his nose, Svelte shrugs a bit. "Not sure. I think it's the one from earlier, though. You know, with the interviewer?"
That's entirely unspecific, but Gwen figures he means Five, who dragged the interviewer off right at the start and spent at least thirty minutes in there. Gwen can't imagine talking that much when it's her turn to go in, but maybe she'll be surprised. At least it'll gives her a good opportunity to tell Shay she loves them.
Sure enough, when Gwen turns her head away from Svelte, she finds herself face to face with someone else. "Hiya," Five says, wide eyes mere inches from Gwen's. "You're the witch from the parades."
Gwen cringes at the reminder. She and Svelte had been given the same circus theme, and while he'd been dolled up in white and sparkles, she'd been draped in long, dark robes. A fortune teller and an acrobat. From what she can tell, it's a frighteningly accurate representation of their occupations back home.
She doesn't really want to think about the implications of that.
Even though she's largely reclaimed the insult of her youth, being so openly called a witch reminds her of the Community Home, where all the kids believed her to be truly cursed. Everywhere she went, disaster and destruction followed, so Gwen learned to believe it as well. It didn't matter if it was true or not. When enough people believe the same thing, it overrides whatever the truth really is.
"That's me," Gwen says carefully. "And you were…" She pauses, trying to bring back memories of the parades. "The yellow suits?"
"Yup! A shame, since that was ugly as fuck. At least Sparkles over there got a nice outfit."
Svelte looks perturbed by her insistence on dragging him into the conversation. "I suppose," he says, after it's clear that Five won't let him go so easily.
Pleased, Five sprawls out on the ground and kicks both of her feet up. "I tried to ride one of the horses, but Madoka got mad at me. That's how you know she's a real shitty sister. You'd let me ride the horses, right?"
Is this some sort of test? Gwen thinks on it a little more than she should. "If the horses like it."
"How do you know the horses like it?"
She thinks a little more. This might be easier if she actually was a circus fortune teller, since they have a strange assortment of large animals and she'd have something to base her answer off of. Instead, all she has is Fortune, the cat that she and Shay took in.
"Well, you can usually judge a cat's emotions by the way its tail moves. Maybe horses are the same way?"
"Ohh, that's fucking good." Five snaps her fingers. "I like you. Leagues better than Madoka. She should really take notes."
"Who's Madoka? Besides, uh, your sister."
"Madoka Hinode," she says, blowing a raspberry. "Ya know, bigshot Victor or whatever? I told the interviewer all about her, so everyone should be ready to see the truth."
"The truth?"
"The truth that she's a big ol' piece of shit. But anyway, I don't wanna talk about that bitch anymore." Five rolls over onto her stomach and props herself up on her elbows. "Name's Akira. You?"
"You can call me Gwen. It's, uh, nice to meet you."
"I'm fuckin' sure! I'm a goddamn riot."
Gwen huffs out a laugh. "Yeah, I'm sure."
"Who's Sparkles over here? I can't keep calling him Sparkles forever. Unless he'd prefer that, I mean." Akira wiggles her eyebrows.
Svelte looks distinctly unamused. He takes a moment to decide if giving out his name is going to somehow be his final nail in the coffin. "Svelte."
"Svelte-Akira-Gwen. SAG, which is kind of lame. Or it could be GAS, which is decent enough. Any good trio should be able to come up with some sort of name like that, yanno?"
"Trio?" Svelte cuts in swiftly. "No, we're not-"
"Not yet," Akira says, eyes bright and dangerous.
Svelte is instantly on edge. To her surprise, he cuts a quick glance at Gwen. "No," he insists. "It's hard to be a trio when we're not allies."
"Who? You and Gwenny?"
Another glance. "I- It's- complicated?"
Looking between the two of them, Gwen picks at the hem of her shirt. She knows she should really step in before Akira makes Svelte completely wig out on both of them, but when she opens her mouth, what comes out is:
"Do you want to join us for a few?"
Akira sits straight up, clapping her hands delightedly. "I thought you'd never ask!"
"What the hell are you doing?" Svelte hisses, mere inches from her ear.
"I don't know," Gwen replies softly. "I just… think she wants company. It doesn't have to mean anything."
Svelte's lips tighten into a thin line. She can sense the It won't on the tip of his tongue, but she knows he'll never say it.
Which is just as well. Gwen might've lied about that last part. She hasn't quite decided yet.
"So, Madoka," she says lightly. "I take it you're not close?"
Akira huffs and begins taking paints out of her pocket. Gwen doesn't want to ask where she got them from. "Not anymore. And she thinks she's my Mentor or something, so she keeps trying to tell me what to do."
"And you don't want her to do that?"
Her cheeks puff out. "Obviously not. Who wants to listen to Madoka fucking Hinode, raging bitch who cut through five tributes? Besides, she didn't even get my dinner right. It's vegan chicken nuggets, not regular ones."
"Oh, are you vegan?"
"Nah. They just taste better."
"Fair enough," Gwen concedes. She pauses, and then adds, "You know, I think we have a whole box of those in the freezer on our floor."
Svelte shoots her another warning glare. This time, Gwen chooses to ignore it.
"Real shit?" Akira's eyes widen. "If Madoka fucks it up again, I'll definitely drop by."
"Feel free," Gwen says, smiling kindly. "Not just for that. If you feel like you… need anything."
Akira nods wisely. "Like someone to talk shit to."
"I… yeah, that would work, I guess."
Somehow satiated by the conversation, Akira cracks open her bottles of paint. Gwen's pretty sure she just barely managed to shove them in her pockets, so Akira's only got about four of them, each in the most horrifically bright shades Gwen can imagine: blue, green, pink, and orange. She almost asks what Akira's going to try and paint on, but Five easily answers her unspoken question by slathering her hand in pink paint and smearing it directly on the floor.
Huh. That's certainly a tactic Gwen can't say she's seen before. She finds herself increasingly intrigued by this Akira Hinode.
"What're you painting?" Gwen asks.
Svelte glances over and wrinkles his brow. "Where did you even get those from?"
"Stole them." Akira takes the green and layers it on top of the pink, the two mixing in a nauseatingly bright combination. "No image in mind yet. I got yelled at for spray painting dicks on the camouflage station earlier, but they didn't notice I got away with these."
Gwen isn't quite sure what to say in response. Piecing together the limited information she knows about Akira so far – sixteen, made a scene at the reaping, has a sister she doesn't like, rather immature – she tries to get herself back in the mindset of Gwen the psychic, who can read anyone at a glance.
So far, she doesn't like what she sees.
There's some sense of familiarity stirring inside Gwen. She's not entirely sure what to make of it, but she knows she's not opposed to keeping Akira around a little longer.
She cuts another look at Svelte. He's still hanging around for some reason, meaning he's not completely scared off just yet. It might mean Gwen herself has to do most of the leg work, but she's starting to think she'll be able to keep him around beyond their original two day deal. And with Akira possibly in the mix, that's a nice number for Gwen to work with. Sure, Svelte is reclusive, and sure, Akira is temperamental, but Gwen can sense that they have something more to them, something she wants to discover.
All she has to do is find a way to make this work.
Thessaly Akaste, 18
District Four Female, she/her
Truthfully, there are very few things that could make this a better day for Thessaly.
For one, she's finally in the training room, which means she's nearly ready for the Games. She's worked her whole life for this – an exaggeration, clearly, since she was only ten when she started training – and now it'll finally pay off. By the end of this, Thessaly Akaste's name will be known by everyone.
She'll make it so.
But beyond that, she's just having fun. Thess has two friends locked in, with her sights set on a third, and she's beyond pleased. Hopefully she'll be able to add more, but she's not exactly counting on it right now.
See, she's been paying attention to her allies, and Thess has them figured out… to an extent. Theo is obviously gonna be her number one guy – he's loud and talkative, just like her. Ibai is pretty up there as well, it's just that he's not as outgoing as Theo. They were the only ones on the Four floor last night, and Thess managed to get him to open up more. Sure, he primarily opened up about boats, but she'll more than take it.
Then there are the Ones, who are… well, certainly something else. Thess can't quite wrap her head around Saccharine, and she can't figure out why. Maybe it's similar to Callum – they both want to fade into the background for some reason. Thess figures that's part of what's bothering her. Why would a couple of Ones want to avoid the spotlight?
Ultimately, she's not going to fight it too much, considering that just means more attention for her, but it's certainly… strange. Maybe she'll ask Ibai about his thoughts on the matter later.
Then, of course, there's Nerissa. Thessaly's lips quirk up into a smile. She quite likes the Two girl, despite Nerissa's prickly nature and insistence that she doesn't want to have anything to do with Thess. The harder someone pushes back against Thess, the more she wants to fight them about it, and she's never been the kind to give up easily.
Hopefully Ner will figure that out sooner rather than later.
And then… she's done going through her whole alliance. Huh. That's not very many people, is it? Thess loves meeting new people, and she's already met all of these, so… where's she supposed to go from here? She's with Ibai and Theo for the rest of the day, so it's not like she's in bad company, but it's somehow… claustrophobic. Thess is antsy, desperate to find something new and innovative to chase.
(For a moment, she misses the beach, when she was a kid and her only worries had to do with the sea and the birds and Euna. She'd spend all day tiring herself out and then go to bed just as fulfilled as she started the day.
Now, she's constantly confronted with an inescapable truth: if Thessaly Akaste doesn't find a way to go home, she'll be replaced. Her parents will find someone else to take in, someone who has a better shot of getting them the fame and glory they've always desired more than the kids they're supposed to love.)
(His name is Argo.)
Theo stands up and dusts off his pants. In a flash, Thess is by his side, hands on her hips and ready to go. He blinks in surprise, but it doesn't take long for him to give her a bright smile. Nice. Thess loves the feeling that she's wearing down another one of them.
(See, that's all this part is to her. A game, a way to make friends. She's been training since she was ten, so the whole training part of these training days means nothing to her. She's here to have fun however she can!)
"What're we doing?" Thess asks once it's clear that Theo isn't going to immediately elaborate.
"Meeting the tributes," Theo replies. He glances over at her and then mimics her stance. "It's important to introduce myself to everyone and gather names."
"Right, of course!" She surveys the room, eyes landing on a few different groups of people. She brightens when she sees two in particular that have moved over to the obstacle course. "Look – there's Bonbon and the boy with the poem from yesterday-"
"Not them," Theo says, cutting her off swiftly. "We can get back to them tomorrow."
Thess pouts a bit. She thought they looked like good fun. "Alright, alright. We can look for someone else, then."
[That's right, Theo's got this all figured out. Bonbon and that boy want to try and steal his spotlight; so long as he doesn't spend any time with them he'll rob them of it for a day. Besides, Theo figures it's best if he staggers his meetings with everyone so his audience doesn't get too overwhelmed by all the names. He only has their best interest in mind.]
"Looks like the Eights have found a new friend," Thess points out. The girl seems particularly pleased by their new companion, while the boy is trying to ignore them both and focus on edible plants.
Theo tilts his head in their direction. "Five looks like she bites."
"Hey, don't judge! I do, too."
Startled, Theo laughs. "Duly noted. They look like they could be perfect to start."
"Or maybe a solo instead," Thess muses thoughtfully. Her eyes are darting around the area, landing on the sullen Six girl and then the despairing Eleven girl and then-
"Oh!" She latches onto Theo's arm and shakes him a bit. "There! At knives – Seven."
"He could work."
Thess almost asks what that means, but before she gets the opportunity, Theo has set off across the training room. "Hey! Wait for me!" she yelps.
Neither of them are exactly subtle, so they catch the eye of more than a few tributes as they make their way over. Thess tries to seek out Nerissa, spotting the girl on her own in a far corner. At this distance, Thess can't quite tell what she's working on, but it's strange that she's all on her own now. When Thess waves excitedly in her direction, Nerissa either doesn't see her or outright ignores her. Probably the latter. Despite how good Thess is at getting someone's attention, Nerissa is even better at disregarding her entirely.
Damn. Thess really will have to keep working on her.
Her momentary distraction has allowed Theo to get ahead of her by several steps, so Thessaly has to skip to catch up. In a way, he's larger than life – er, not just physically. She can't quite say it's in presence alone, either. Pantheon Lexicus doesn't command attention, he demands it. In the end, it's all the same to Thess, but maybe it's worth noting anyway.
Unlike the others, Seven hardly pays them any attention when they approach. Thess takes a moment to watch what he's doing. Though he doesn't exactly appear to be well-versed with a knife, he's got a dummy in front of him marked several times over in various weak points. It's the sort of thing where Thess can clearly see there's some potential there, and she wonders if Seven will be able to capitalize on it or not.
Hmm… she's starting to get an idea, and she wonders if Theo has the same one. Though, she supposes, it's too early to commit to anything just yet. They haven't even met the guy, after all.
The boy finally seems to notice he's being watched, and casts a glance over his shoulder. He laughs a bit, tucking a strand of shoulder-length hair behind his ear. "Two and Four, huh? What's the occasion?"
"Scouting out the tributes," Theo says, stepping up. "You caught our eye first."
Thess doesn't point out that technically Seven caught her eye first, but she certainly thinks it. Seven merely smiles a bit, curious. "I suppose I'll have to take that as a compliment, then. I'd hope it's for good reasons."
"Why wouldn't it be?" Theo replies smoothly. "We're just trying to introduce ourselves to everyone, gather names."
Seven hums, tilting his head to the side. "In that case, what's yours?"
"Pantheon Lexicus," Theo says. He flashes Seven a wink. "But you can call me Theo."
"And I'm Thessaly Akaste," she cuts in, not to be outdone.
Seven studies them both curiously. After a moment of hesitation, he decides that introducing himself is a worthy endeavor. "Zephyr Vitale," he says, extending a hand. "Charmed, I'm sure."
Theo reaches for a handshake first, but Zephyr instead grabs it and presses a kiss to the back of his hand. This action makes Theo stand a little straighter, as if Zephyr truly has his attention now.
"Certainly," he says, coughing a bit. "I can't imagine why someone like you is still all alone here."
Zephyr shrugs. "Hadn't found anyone that's caught my attention yet."
"Hadn't?
"I'm still waiting to see how this one pans out."
"Ah," Theo says, eyes brightening. He regards Zephyr with a new level of interest. "I see. You looking for an alliance or something?"
"Or something," Zephyr replies lightly. "I won't hold you to anything. I understand you have your own commitments already."
"There's always room for one more."
"So quick to make the offer? I'm starting to think you might like me."
Theo laughs, and Thess swears he's almost nervous – the kind of nervous that means Zephyr is onto something. "There's still plenty of time to figure that one out."
"I'm sure," Zephyr says, "but there won't be any figuring out if we stay standing here."
"Right," Theo blurts out. "And if you have no allies yet…"
Thess taps her foot against the ground. Theo already appears to be more than sold on the potential of a new ally – and, really, Thess is too – but she needs to come up with some sort of screening question. Something that will really guarantee this guy clicks properly with the rest of their alliance.
She scans the room once more, and her eyes land on Ibai, who doesn't at all appear bothered by the fact that both of his partners for the day have abandoned him. Instead, he's quietly tying knots with a rather impressive degree of skill. Maybe Thess will ask him about that when she gets back over there.
Shaking her head, Thess tries to focus on the task at hand. But just as she opens her mouth, something pops into her mind. She grins.
She has the perfect idea.
"How do you feel about boats?"
Zephyr and Theo both stare at her. Theo almost looks mildly betrayed (rude), and Zephyr just looks curious. The corner of his mouth quirks up into a smile.
"Boats?"
"Yeah, how do you feel about them? It's real serious business, I'll have you know. No pressure, of course. You should really speak from the heart. But there is definitely a right answer."
"Boats," he mutters again, tapping his chin with a finger. "Never been around many, you know."
"That's alright, I won't count you off for it."
"Too many trees in Seven," Zephyr says, nodding to himself. "But I suppose I'd like to see a boat someday. They certainly seem helpful when it comes to transporting both people and supplies, but not very useful when you're landlocked."
Gee, that's a rather technical answer. Thess nods along, half-wishing she'd brought Ibai along for the occasion. She's not really sure what to do with all of this, so she asks a real subtle follow-up question.
"Yeah, but like, do you like them?"
Zephyr hums. He looks as if he's trying to size her up, and Thess rewards him with her most disarming smile. After a moment, he gives her a lopsided grin. "Yes, I suppose I do."
Her smile brightens, and then Thess coughs and tries to put on a more serious and contemplative face. "That's interesting, that's interesting…" She pretends to think on it for a moment longer. "And you really do mean that?"
"I try to make a habit of not lying."
"You're perfect," she declares, giving him a single nod of her head.
Zephyr laughs, clearly amused by the situation. "You hardly know anything about me or my talents."
Thess waves a hand dismissively. "Those aren't relevant; we can all more than take care of ourselves. Besides, I'm sure you have something you're good at."
"Well of course, but I'm not sure everything translates so smoothly to the Games."
"Doesn't have to. As long as you can find some way to pull your weight, the rest doesn't matter to me." She blinks over at Theo. "That's how allies work, right?"
Theo nods once. "Absolutely!"
She feels certain they're just making this up as they go. Not like it matters, anyway. Thessaly's primary goal is to have fun, and Zephyr seems like the perfect way to make that happen. She has no idea what kind of new dynamics he might bring about, but isn't that part of the fun?
"C'mon, then!" Thess says, grabbing his wrist and tugging. "We're over at rope tying."
Zephyr allows himself to be dragged along – further proof that he's going to be a good sport about the matter. "We?"
"Yeah! Ibai's still over there. The others are… well, I'm not sure where they are, really. You can meet them later, then!"
"I'm sure I will."
Thess nearly has to skid to a stop when she reaches Ibai, who looks surprised by the intrusion. Honestly, she's not entirely sure that he noticed them leaving in the first place.
"Oh," Ibai says softly, eyes darting between the three of them. "You brought company."
"This is Zephyr." Thess sits down next to Ibai, peeking over at his work. "He's from Seven."
"I remember that part," Ibai replies, voice a bit quieter now. He's fiddling with the rope, no longer meeting anyone's gaze. "What's he doing here?"
"New ally. That's fine, right? I already asked, he said he likes boats. Wants to learn more about them, too."
This seems to catch Ibai's attention, and he side-eyes her. "Really?"
Thess nods, pleased with herself. "Really."
Humming a bit, Ibai unties a knot before redoing it, too fast for Thess to catch what he's doing. "I can try, then," he finally settles on.
Thess brightens even more, squirming a bit where she's sitting. "Amazing!" she cheers, before hurriedly lowering her voice. "By the way, can you show me how to do this?"
He points to a page of instructions on the ground. "I'm working off of that."
"I know, but I want you to show me."
Ibai blinks. "Oh. Okay. Yeah, I can do that."
"This is a good opportunity," she continues. "I'll be able to add it to your list of skills in my file. What, did you just pick this one up?"
"Mostly." He's barely hiding a smile. "I'm not unfamiliar with the concept, but I've never gotten the chance to learn like this before."
"Would you mind sharing with me as well?" Zephyr settles down across from them, picking up a length of rope. "If you're willing, that is. Name's Zephyr."
Ibai stills, his only visible movement being the gentle rise and fall of his chest. After giving it a moment of thought, he nods carefully. "I can try. And… Ibai."
He clearly doesn't appreciate having an audience now, particularly one comprised of someone he doesn't know, but Ibai straightens his shoulders a bit and concentrates on the task at hand. Zephyr appears to at least be an attentive listener, and as long as this particular meeting continues going well, she's sure that the rest of their alliance will be fine too.
Thess smiles to herself. She loves it when things just happen to work out. Everything is falling into place for her already, and there's still two more days! She can't even begin to fathom what the future will bring.
She hopes it's something good.
happy one year anniversary to the time shai kingston got so horny he died about it. you were a real one. i miss odwh games.
in other obviously less important news, happy 100k to tfm! there's uh. a lot to go...! with 10 pg chapters left i'm not exactly optimistic about our wc going into the games, but that's my personal demon, y'all just have to read it. i'm sorry in advance.
uhhh scratches head. i'll throw an alliance list in here on day 3 when things are made official and everyone stops going wahh allies scary. i will break them. and that's a promise! i can try to talk numbers to u but i'd be talking out of my ass. if i end up being completely and totally insane then two chapters by january 22nd but that's a lot of chapters so don't hold me to it. i post when i can! free from college in march so things will pick up after that (hopefully).
i dunno. enjoy night 1 next time. tfm pregames is camp.
wait also happy new year
~de laney is out