Ally Thimblewhitte, 16, District Two, Aries
During her time in the Capitol, Ally's mentor told her that no amount of training could prepare her for the Games. She'd resented him at the time, thinking that since he was from One he was setting her up to fail in the name of some misplaced district loyalty. But now that she was here, she realized the full truth of his words.
The violence, she expected. It wasn't fun, exactly, but she felt she was handling it well enough. But whenever the Careers were shown on her television at home, they always seemed so sure of themselves. So in control. Ally was the chosen tribute of District Two, the district with the highest Victor count. She thought she would look just like all of the cold, competent Careers that she'd watched growing up. Technically she didn't know how the Capitol perceived her. For all she knew, that was exactly what she looked like.
Yet she couldn't shake the feeling that she was failing.
It was day Three, and she only had one kill. An outer district boy who was far too slow to defend himself. She wasn't entirely sure kill counts were easy to come by this year, there were far too many capable people. But of all of the events that happened in the bloodbath, she was certain hers was one of the least interesting.
The metanarrative was killing her. It was one thing to survive, to hunt, to wield weapons like they'd taught her to over the years. But every hundred feet or so as she paddled her gondola she caught sight of a dark pad floating on the water. It was hard to see, but at one point she caught sight of a red blinking light.
Cameras. And they weren't even hiding it.
The Two pack should have been the strongest. Numberwise, they still were. But five people didn't seem quite as impressive when one of them was fifty pounds soaking wet and the other one was quickly losing their grip on reality.
"Then they'll put on my gravestone 'the world was flat after all'." Nixie said. There hadn't been any conversation beforehand.
"What bullshit are you on about now?" Ally said. This was how it had been ever since the bloodbath. To this day she didn't know why the council had chosen the other girl as second to volunteer. True, she was skilled enough at combat. But Nixie was always erratic, and it had only gotten worse as time went on. During the reapings, Ally was concerned that she would slit all of their throats in the night.
That was clearly not a concern now, but she almost wished that it was. Unhinged murderers played well in the Games. Ally had no idea how the Capitol would react to whatever was going on with Nixie, but she doubted it would be positive. Her world was crumbling underneath her, collapsing under the weight of expectations. Of being seen.
"Give it a rest, Ally." Solomon said, "She's trying her best."
Ally wasn't surprised. Solomon was always like this. Back when her brother had first left… when he had first disappeared, kids had been quite cruel to her. There were a million stories about what had happened. Gregory was a rebel. Gregory was a gambling addict. Her parents had secretly sold him to the Capitol. Ally had chased him off by being a 'super psycho bitch' (that particular theory had been from Nixie, the girl everyone now expected her to coddle). Gregory had simply never cared. Children at the Career academy were trained to spot weakness and given very few outlets for stress, so Ally's situation made her a punching bag for everyone around her.
Except for Solomon. For years, he would sit next to her at lunch, defend her from the worst of the attacks, providing one friendly face in a sea of hostility. And at first, she'd appreciated it. Until she realized that it was just who he was. Solomon would champion any cause he considered dire enough. When she realized that none of his support had anything to actually do with her, her gratefulness dissolved into resentment.
So of course these were the two people she would be working with during the most important moments in her life.
"Well if her best could say something useful for once, that would be nice."
Nixie stared at Ally, too long and too intensely. Then suddenly she spoke, "I was just thinking that our original idea to skip the closer islands relied on the possibility that there were farther ones. And that the other tributes would want to put distance between them and us. But what if there aren't any? Islands I mean. Or… aren't yet. Gamemakers can pull them out of the water like gods if they wanted to. Perhaps they're waiting to do so."
Ally blinked. She was surprised that her hounding worked.
"Ok... That's plausible." she said, still taken aback, "So you think that we should double back?"
Nixie nodded, "Or create a submarine."
And she was back to nonsense. Still, the idea was sound. Ally turned the gondola around, heading in the direction of an island they'd deliberately passed earlier. It was small, and primarily occupied by a large dark tower, but there was a beach where they could dock their gondola, along with a variety of vegetation. Ally thought she saw a squirrel dart up a tree at one point. A good place for an outer district tribute to hide.
Suddenly her eyes registered the movement of something much larger than a squirrel.
"Over there." She said, pointing to a small dark area at the base of the tower. It looked like someone had dug a makeshift shelter there.
Ally may not have felt particularly charitable towards her companions, but to their credit they were quick to act. They both drew their weapons and slowly crept up to the shelter. Ally brought up the rear, clutching a bolas just in case the tribute decided to run.
They hadn't done anything wrong, really. Only what they were trained to do. Which was why it was so frustrating when Solomon placed his foot down and was harshly jerked upwards by a snare trap. Nixie scrambled to get him down and Ally took the opportunity to run forward, confident she would corner the hiding tribute.
Instead she found a fox, its leg tied to the back of the enclosure.
"The boat!" Solomon shouted.
Ally turned, just in time to see a boy untie their gondola and push away from the island. She threw her bolas, but she was panicked and the boy was already too far away, a blur of red and black. Her weapon fell uselessly into the water with a dull 'thunk'.
It was a bad look, and she knew it. But the frustration of her situation was just too much. How could she have gotten this far yet still be such a failure? She let out a deep primal yell and fell to her knees.
She did everything right. So did her allies. They had been perfect.
So why was it all going wrong?
Carnation Banyon, 16, District Seven, Gemini
Growing up, the Hunger Games was always an exciting time of year for her family. The mandatory viewing meant that there was far less work to be done, meaning that her father was home more often. And he was at both his best and worst during Games season, eyes shining and full of energy. He would tell her and her sister fascinating behind the scenes information about different Victors, or give Solstice useful survival tips. Her mother was gentler, if still distant. Carnation remembered often climbing onto her lap and settling in like it was a nest. It was one of the few times her mother allowed herself to be touched. They would cheer together, cry together, and talk amongst themselves about who they thought might win. It was a cheery, rose-colored time, and in such an environment the events on the television hardly seemed real.
It was entirely too real now, as she was slowly dying of thirst in the middle of an ocean.
Carnation laid down half propped on the floor of the gondola, though there wasn't truly room for it, as it was getting harder and harder to stand. She could do it, theoretically, but the pain in her head and intense dizziness was too great to think too hard, let alone remember how to pilot her body. Lustre lay next to her, his feet by her head, no longer rowing. His exhaustion outweighed his pride.
Given the nature of the arena, it was difficult to say how long they had been drifting. Hours, days, the stars shifted but it was always night. Yet Carnation had the feeling that they were coming up on two or three days, given the intense pain her body was experiencing. Thirst was an understatement. It was a clawing driving need that tore at her insides, the only thing ferocious about her anymore. She was surprised that she hadn't given in and tried to drink the saltwater around her yet. It would have only made things worse, but in her current state it was hard to remember that. All she really knew was that it was wet and there and the fact that she refused to drink it felt more like foolishness than survival.
She was rolling a metal water bottle that she'd retrieved from the bloodbath around in her hands, trying to reign in the monster that was her thirst, when she heard the distinctive beeping of a sponsor gift. Finally. Carnation was under no illusions that she was a favorite in the Games, but she'd thought Lustre at least might manage to capture the Capitol's attention. There was an innate charm about him, as frustrating as it was to admit. When he talked, it felt like you were compelled to listen. Even his temper tantrums were captivating on occasion, and Carnation doubted that the Capitol was ever going to discourage fits of anger. Amber was the one who suggested the three of them ally, but his ability to win people over was why she chose to stay with him.
Then again, very few people could be compelling when dying. Carnation supposed she couldn't hold it against him.
"Is it water?" She asked. Her voice was barely recognizable, hoarse and ragged.
"No." he answered, "Purifying tablets."
"Do they work on salt water?"
"I don't think so. The note attached just says 'wait two to three minutes'." He paused. "I'm aware my mentor hates me, but at least you'd think he'd have professional integrity."
Carnation laughed, though it hurt to do so, "Sponsor notes are always brief. I think they charge by word."
Still, she would have appreciated some sort of explanation for why, instead of water, he had sent a pack of purification tablets that they couldn't use. Was it some sort of cruel joke? Get their hopes up right at the end, only to let them squander and die? No. The price for this alone was exorbitant. No one would pay that much for a prank. So there had to be something to the item. Perhaps a clue.
She sat up, at least as well as she could, and looked out into the distance. There was nothing out there, the last time she checked, and she expected this time to be no different. Except… the waves suddenly started to pick up, and Carnation had to grip the side of the gondola to avoid being thrown off. And at the edge of her vision, she started to notice something.
The island didn't so much appear as much as float towards them. As if on some sort of nautical conveyor belt. They hadn't traveled particularly far in the last hour or so. Carnation was certain that there hadn't been an island there before. But she was too thirsty to care about the logistics. It was here now, and if the gift was anything to go by, there would be water there. There had to be.
"Lustre. Start paddling."
He looked at her blearily before turning to see what was behind him. Once he processed the island, he scrambled up to the edge of the boat and with what little strength he still had, pushed them ashore.
An island might not have been an accurate statement; Carnation thought it more closely resembled a coral reef than a proper land mass, surrounded by a thin layer of sand. Everywhere she looked there was a pond, teeming with a different type of colorful fish. The island had fish! Food and water. Their luck was changing.
It took every ounce of willpower still left in her not to stick her head in and drink until she couldn't swallow any longer. But Seven had encountered a water crisis a few years back. She wasn't going to get this close to salvation only to ruin it with her impatience. Walking to the edge of the nearest pond, she filled up the water bottle and brought it up to her nose. She couldn't smell salt, at least.
"Lustre- " She began, but the boy had already come up behind her and dropped a tablet in.
"The only thing I'm worried about now is whether the note meant to wait for the tablets or the island. I don't know if I can wait very long."
She understood the impulse. Even now, the abundance of water just felt like torture. "We can give it a few minutes at least." she said.
The two of them stared intently at the water bottle, watching the tablet slowly dissolve. She felt ridiculous, standing there waiting. But she had no choice. Once the pill seemed thoroughly mixed with the water, she brought it to her lips and drank.
Her body accepted the gift as if she were a sponge, taking large sloppy sips to get as much water as possible. After only a few seconds she felt a sudden jolt and the bottle was no longer in her hands. Lustre had taken it, and Carnation almost hit him before regaining control of herself. There was only one bottle, after all. They would have to share. Even if it was physically painful to stop.
Lustre finished the water inside the bottle, then looked over to Carnation, "How do you feel? Think we waited long enough?"
She wasn't sure. But she hadn't keeled over dead, so Carnation was hopeful, "We'll wait a bit longer this time. Just to make sure."
"Sounds like a plan." He said, and filled the bottle for a second round.
BV Margenium, 17, District One, Taurus
After a little over two days of chaos and peril and constant conversation with his allies, BV found silence a welcome sensation. As early as five minutes prior, the cave he was standing in was full of noise, competing voices bouncing off of the stone walls as the four members of the pack attempted to figure out if the lake or the cave itself was dangerous.
Nate hadn't mentioned the full details of what had happened when he was alone, but he was clearly shaken. So when he mentioned to the rest of them that he suspected there was some sort of mutt in the cave, everyone had believed him. After ten minutes of group investigation, that faith was beginning to wear thin for a couple members. So BV had asked the others to wait outside, theorizing that whatever had scared Nate so badly might only come out when someone was alone.
Alone.
It was a feeling that BV didn't experience often. Growing up, there were tutors and family friends and Academy donors, everyone clamoring to learn about the Next Great Margenium. If there was nothing else going on, he would train with his father. There was never a need for him to be alone. In retrospect, BV wondered if perhaps it was on purpose. Because if there was always someone there, he would have no time to explore who he was beyond his family name. No opportunity to simply be…
Had his father known the secret that had almost swallowed BV up inside? Was that part of it? No, probably not. He hadn't known himself until recently, until that last fateful talk with his mentor. Even now it felt strange to confront. The truth was a hot stove, gleaming and beautiful but hot to touch.
There was a flicker of light in the cave, and suddenly BV was no longer alone.
Hovering above the lake was himself. Or an image of him, at least. From this angle he presumed it was a projection of some sort. The hologram stood there with a grave expression, wearing the clothing he'd had on during the reaping. BV felt a deep ache in his gut looking at it. There was something… wrong about the image. Perhaps there always had been. They'd just never been alone enough to see it.
BV took a step towards their phantom self, some of the water pouring into their socks, and wondered just what about a static projected image could have scared Nate so badly. Except then the faux-BV opened his mouth.
"You look like you have a question for me. All you have to do is ask." The figure said, but it wasn't BV's voice. It was their mentor, Ronan's. BV remembered this, it was the moment before the bloodbath.
The moment everything changed.
"Guys!" BV yelled. In a second, they were all there, their footsteps echoing throughout the cavern. BV was slightly afraid that the image would disappear, but it remained as it was.
"That's impressive." Consus said.
Trent shook his head. "It's spooky."
"When we first met, you said that bulls were mostly boy cows." The projection said in BV's voice, "What did you mean by that?"
Why did the conversation keep going? This was a private moment. One they didn't want their allies to hear.
Except Nate cocked their head to the side. "Why isn't he talking?" he asked, "Mine talked."
"Because it's true." Ronan's voice said. Except it didn't echo like the others. It was clear as memory. Perhaps that was all it was. "Some bulls are boys. Some aren't."
"That's just factually wrong. All bulls are boy cows. Definitionally. That's what they are."
"So you can't hear any of this?" BV asked.
"It's just a picture, BV." Consus answered.
Except it wasn't. They could hear it so clearly.
"I like you very much, Bee. But I can't make this journey for you. If you truly believe a bull is just a bull, that's fine by me. You can go in there, fight the Games, have nothing change. But you've been focused for days on one sentence I said casually. Perhaps you owe it to yourself to wonder why."
"The water!" BV felt a tug on their sleeve as Nate pulled them onto shore, "Some of it touched my hands last time. That must be it."
"His eyes are dilated. Must be drugs of some sort." Someone said. BV couldn't quite figure out who, but their voice echoed so it must have been real.
"But we drank that water. We're all fine."
"It probably boils off. We just need to make sure not to come into skin contact with it and we'll be fine."
"What's the picture about then?"
"Probably a way to prompt the hallucination in some way. Forced self reflection."
"BV. Listen to me if you can. It's not real. Whatever you're saying to yourself, it's not real."
But it was real. It was possibly the realest thing that had happened to them.
"I have one more question." BV's voice said, "The colors were originally meant to be solid. Distributed by gender. Which one was which?"
"The black stripes were meant to be for the boys. And red for girls."
BV wasn't sure how long they stayed like that. But eventually, they began to process the face of their allies.
They? She? BV had been rolling them all around in their head, unsure what any of it meant. Just that it meant something.
"We're still in the cave?" she asked.
"You don't move someone who's hallucinating." Trent said archly, "Everyone knows that."
BV hadn't known that. But then again, she hadn't grown up in a tavern.
"Your socks and shoes are drying over there." Consus said, pointing to an area in the corner.
BV turned and saw a small fire, where her clothing items were carefully hung on a stick a safe distance above.
She turned back to thank Consus, only to see an intricate, strangely angled blade embedded in his shoulder. The large boy took a few steps back, lost his footing, then tumbled into the lake.
"Consus!" BV yelled, reaching out her hand. But it was too late. Consus was already submerged and she couldn't find him without risking another dose of the water.
Her other allies ran to the lip of the cave, where two figures stood armed. One of them was the Career boy from Four. The other one was Revalie.
Guilt ate at BV. Sparing Revalie at the bloodbath felt like the right thing to do. But now, she was attacking her pack. Had one small act of mercy doomed her alliance?
"Let's leave, Eli." BV heard Revalie say.
"Leave? Are you going soft on me like the others?"
Revalie and BV shared a brief look before shaking her head, "There's just too many of them. Not a smart fight."
"The biggest one's down. We'll be fi-" Eli stopped mid-sentence as Nate ran a knife through him. At some point when everyone was talking, the Nine boy had snuck behind him. A cannon fired and Eli collapsed to the ground. Nate didn't pause or even truly acknowledge the kill, just stepped forward. He and Trent began to surround Revalie, who pulled out another oddly shaped weapon. She backed up cautiously until she was at the edge of the water.
"Let her go!" BV shouted.
"But she killed Consus." Trent retorted.
Revalie took the opportunity, panic in her voice, "Wait, he's not dead! He's not dead. There was only one cannon, right? If we act now I can save him."
BV saw it coming, too late to do anything about it.
"Be my guest." Nate answered, then pushed Revalie into the lake.
AN: Yup, another chapter down. And it's a doozy yeah? I feel like I've found a bit of a rhythm lately. Anyway, I'm not going to waste too much time let's get to obituaries.
Eli Slater: This guy had a really intriguing concept and when I originally accepted him his ranking was much higher. But plans change and things get rearranged and the next thing I know, Eli was getting waaaaay too into the Games. And that ended up not working out for him. I did enjoy writing him a lot and he brought an interesting dimension to the cast, particularly his library conversation with Hades which is still one of my favorite scenes so far. May the revolution march on without you, Eli. We pour one out for you.