Chapter 9 - Train Rides I

Convergence Of The Condemned


Inessa "Nes" Gaibannes

18

~ District 2 Tribute ~


"Ooooo I'm feeling so good about this year! I really think we can go back-to-back with this!"

It hadn't even been two minutes within the car, before Inessa Gaibannes had immediately wanted to vacate the vehicle, as she kept her eyes firmly fixated on the outside world flying by at speeds she had never travelled before in her life. It would have been a rather therapeutic experience, had it not been for their Escort - Elysia Fairforge - incessantly rambling from the front seat.

Inessa had always cherished her peace, not being a particularly talkative or outgoing person herself, which certainly made for an unwelcome scenario when she was placed in the vicinity with the excessively talkative Capitol Escort that Elysia was. It seemed as if Elysia herself hadn't quite picked up on Inessa's lack of engagement yet however, as Huxley Montgomery kept the woman perfectly entertained from the seat beside Inessa.

"I'd be concerned if you felt otherwise Elysia," the boy laughed back at her, causing the woman to chuckle in response.

"Oh of course not darling," Elysia assured the two of them, as she looked Huxley up and down from her position in the front of the car. "Especially not you… you look exceptionally dangerous might I add."

"I wouldn't have it any other way," Huxley grinned, a slightly gloating tone audible in his voice.

Well fuck me then I guess, Inessa rolled her eyes, choosing not to call out the clear indication of favouritism. The truth was, she didn't need any sort of favouritism, she could handle everything on her own if she really needed to, and she was determined to prove it if necessary. With that being said, she couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy deep down, already feeling slightly outcast from the conversation despite it being due to a lack of her own willingness to be sociable.

It was the same story that Inessa was always at odds with, ever since she had joined the Career Academy. She wasn't the most sociable of people, always choosing to focus on her own needs and serve her best interests first. She was a quiet person, and had always struggled to properly integrate with others in ways that superseded necessity. Inessa supposed she should at least make an effort to nurture new relationships that could benefit her going into the games, but the underlying detail that any tribute she got close to would be dead by the games end was enough to hold her at bay.

Perhaps after coming home, she'd be able to focus more so on putting herself out there, and making meaningful connections with others. However for the current moment, her ineptitude with people was certainly holding her back, even with making crucial bonds with her Escort.

She couldn't help but glance over at Huxley momentarily, who caught her eye for a second, smiling back at her with a cheeky grin that felt strange coming from him of all people. Perhaps he was simply happy to be out of the prison he had been holed up in for months, but the truth behind that deceitful grin, was far deeper than that. Inessa knew of the layers that Huxley harboured within himself, right down to the daring ideas that he had wished to impose, only to be thwarted in what was said to be one of the biggest mass-rebellion subjugations in recent history.

As joking and laid back as Huxley could come across when he was in a good mood, Inessa knew better than to believe his words. She had known him for years at the Academy, watching him from afar as he was one of the most promising fighters in her age bracket, yet to her, he never seemed truly invested in the idea of becoming a tribute. It was only in recent years, that Inessa became aware as to why that was the case, and what Huxley was brewing up behind closed doors. After all - she was technically a benefactor of Huxley's rebellious tendencies.

"Admittedly, you both do have some big shoes to fill after Delphi. That girl is a star, I'll tell you that," Elysia continued to rave, praising the former District 2 tribute that had clawed her way into Victor status the previous year. Of course, despite the upcoming excitement of the games, everyone's eyes were still on Delphine Evergaze, her victory having pushed District 2 ahead of District 1 in the victor tally between the two districts. Now as she faced her first year as a Mentor, the talk was all about how she could lead either Inessa or Huxley towards that fabled two-peat for District 2.

From a personal perspective, Inessa admired Delphi as a person, having trained with her at the Academy for several years, although never having struck up a one-on-one conversation with the girl before. However truthfully, Inessa didn't want her legacy to be that of a mentor-student success story between herself and Delphi. She was an independent person, with her own personality, her own ambitions, and her own ideas. She supposed there could be worse people to have as a Mentor, but she certainly didn't anticipate a week of being overshadowed by the most recent Victor. She had to make a name for herself, and set herself apart from her overtly praised senior.

"I like my chances," Inessa responded quietly, earning a giggle from Elysia as the car continued to rock over the paved stone road.

"That's the spirit Inessa! I think that's the first time I've heard your voice since you volunteered," Elysia joked, albeit the joke was basked in truth.

"I only really speak when it's necessary, nobody likes their time wasted by idle chit-chat," Inessa confessed calmly, as Huxley snorted in response.

"Speak for yourself," he scoffed, before flashing a challenging gaze upon Inessa. "But we've had some good conversations in the past, right Inessa?"

"Our conversations have been strictly business, I've never intentionally exceeded that subject," Inessa retorted, her soft, robotic voice remaining unfazed by Huxley's contradicting statement.

"Business huh? What kind of dealings have the both of you been up to?" Elysia joked, as Inessa lowered her eyes evasively.

"I come from a family of weaponsmiths," Inessa revealed casually, her monotone voice doing little to reveal the true depths of her arrangement with Huxley. "I've forged a fair few personalised weapons for Huxley."

"Aww! That's sweet of you," Elysia commented, appearing endeared by the act.

"Not out of the kindness of her heart mind you," Huxley chimed in, appearing humoured by Elysia's reaction. "They were commissions of course."

"Nevertheless, it's nice to know the two of you have had a mutual exchange in the past. It must be nice to be familiar with one another," Elysia presumed, not knowing the true extent of Inessa and Huxley's "mutual exchange". The truth was somewhat there in the tale that Inessa had revealed to Elysia, she did indeed come from a family of weaponsmiths, and had certainly supplied Huxley with weaponry in the past for his own endeavours.

What Inessa carefully refrained from mentioning however, was what said weapons happened to be; firearms, explosive equipment, weapons of war and devastation that would be considered vehemently contraband.

Many would ask how it was possible, or why Inessa would even do such a thing. To that, she of course had her justifications, although it had nothing to do with her own personal views on the current political state of Panem. Inessa hailed from a exorbitantly rich and wealthy family, having had generational wealth handed down through her lineage since before even the Dark Days of Panem's inception.

Naturally, a family lineage of simple weaponsmiths wasn't the true reasoning for the vast amount of wealth the Gaibannes Family had been able to accrue. Simple swords, spears, and axes weren't exactly a lucrative expenditure, and on the surface, Inessa's family lived fairly humbly to be able to live right under the nose of the overtly observant Capitol regime.

The real money of course, was sourced through the black market, where their monopoly on illegal firearms was considerably dominant. Her father and uncle - Quiran and Maximo Gaibannes respectively - had been running this monopoly on black market weaponry for all of their lives, a business handed down to them by Inessa's grandfather, who of course had inherited it from his own father. From District 2's underbelly, they ran their business like a cartel, both manufacturing from the depths of District 2's Dead Zone, and exporting the weapons country wide through ancient and unmapped rail networks, left from the days before the catastrophe that destroyed the old world.

The Dead Zone, was in an inhospitable sector of District 2 that was blown up during the Dark Days, where what used to be an old weapons manufacturing town was stationed at prior. The Capitol had been developing nuclear weapons in the region, before District 13 had blown it to smithereens during the war, wiping the sector off of the face of the map and leaving a town of rubble and structural building frames, all on the verge of collapse.

Whilst the Capitol had sectioned off the region well over a century ago, warning the citizens of District 2 about lingering radiation and unstable architectural foundations, the Gaibannes Family had been able to use the sewage systems to access the zone, using their mining prowess to hollow out a thriving weapons manufacturing factory beneath the rubble of the withering community. It was the perfect hiding place; a blunder that the Capitol would rather forget.

Due to the secrecy of the rebellion that Huxley had been cooking up, as well as the mutual confidentiality of Inessa's family business, it had been Huxley that had approached her for a lucrative deal that involved the supply of their weapons to the rebels. Initially, Inessa had been entirely against the idea, not exactly being a loyal Capitol supporter herself by any means, but being rather reluctant to get involved in the workings of a rebellion.

However, when her father had heard of the proposition, his eyes had turned to dollar signs. Not only would the purchase be an inconceivable profit for their family, but if a full scale war broke out, the Gaibannes dynasty would be a central arms chain for anyone wanting to fight against the Capitol.

Through Inessa as the middle-man, the deal was struck, indirectly making her an accomplice to the revolution. So naturally, Inessa wasn't particularly pleased when Huxley decided to up and expose their whole operation… on accident of all things. Of course, she understood it wasn't intentional, but it had happened nevertheless, meaning she had to live for the past several months with the lingering fear that they would extract her family's involvement from Huxley whilst he was incarcerated.

Fortunately for her, it appeared Huxley was a tough cookie to crack, as for some odd reason, the boy currently sat next to her on the way towards the Hunger Games. It had came as quite the surprise when she had found out a mere week ago that Huxley and the intended volunteer - Payne Holston - were set to battle it out in a fight to the death for the role of tribute this year. She never would've imagined that Huxley would willingly enter the games, so something drastic behind the scenes must've happened for the showdown between the two to become a thing.

She had watched the entire fight between the two boys, not particularly invested in either as regardless of who would've won, she'd have to beat them in the games anyways. She supposed a small part of her wanted Huxley to beat Payne, as she suspected that spending a week with the latter in the Capitol would be - to put it lightly - insufferable. She had no doubt that should they have been dumped into an arena together, it would almost have definitely ended with herself turning on Payne within a day or two of the Bloodbath.

As it so happened though, Huxley had already done the honours for her. In a brutal battle, a complete grudge match where the two slogged it out, Payne's big mouth full of taunts and snarky remarks turned out to be his downfall. It probably wasn't a good idea to poke fun at someone's dead partner when they are facing you with a giant war hammer. To say the sight of Payne's crushed in head that came courtesy of his very own disarmed shield was satisfying, would be an understatement.

Ultimately, despite Huxley's own ignorance in getting his whole rebellion thwarted, Inessa couldn't say she felt negatively about the boy. He had been considerate enough to keep his mouth zipped about her family to the Peacekeepers, and the icing on the cake truly came as a result of sparing her from Payne's presence going into the games.

However, Huxley himself wasn't the most tolerable of people to be around, she had come to learn over the years of dealing with him. Opposed to her usual introverted and quiet nature, Huxley was raucous, chatty, and had a habit of becoming rather hot-headed in contentious situations. She liked someone stable, level-headed, and generally calm to be around. Huxley was none of those things unfortunately, but she supposed she'd make do.

"That's right Elysia," Huxley chirped, responding to Elysia's earlier comment. "We'll be best buds, I'm sure."

Inessa resisted the urge to roll her eyes at the very faint level of sarcasm in Huxley's tone, sarcasm that appeared to fly right over the head of Elysia as she beamed at the two of them, her toothy smile visible in the mirror above her head. Truthfully, Inessa knew that Huxley didn't want to be there, there was absolutely no way he did this of his own accord, whilst being locked up for conspiracy to overthrow the government. Just as Inessa herself planned to, she suspected Huxley would play nice for as long as he needed to, at least until the Careers broke off. But if Elysia was under the impression that they would be anything beyond allies, then she was sorely mistaken.

"Ah! Looks like we're here!" Elysia clapped excitedly, as the view of District 2's train station came into view, the vehicle which all of them were contained in beginning to slow down as it approached.

"Great. Cars are cool and all but they're too cramped for my liking," Huxley frowned, as he began to unbuckle his seat belt. "A bit too much like my cell."

"Your what?" Elysia spoke up, appearing to double back upon hearing Huxley's words. Huxley looked at her blankly, feigning ignorance at what he had just said, perhaps realising a little too late that his former prisoner status should remain under-wraps.

"What?" He echoed Elysia, acting as if he hadn't said anything out if the ordinary, causing Inessa to pinch the bridge of her nose, squeezing her eyes shut in frustration.

"His cell," Inessa spoke up, causing Elysia to glance at her. "He's referring to the accomodation at our Academy, the rooms are so small that people usually compare them to prison cells, and call them as such."

Elysia looked at Inessa incredulously for a moment, before she giggled in response.

"That sounds awful! You're about to be in for a world of surprise when you get on the train then," Elysia gushed, apparently amused by the living conditions of students that lived within the Academy. Although it was true that some kids did live at the Academy, treating it as a boarding school for those that took their training extra seriously, those rooms in question were certainly not what Huxley had been referring to.

As the two passenger doors were opened upon coming to a stop right outside of the station, both Inessa and Huxley were ushered out of the vehicle by Peacekeepers, allowing Inessa to flash Huxley with a stern glare for his stupidity over the hood of the car.

"Are you crazy? How could you let that slip?" Inessa whispered, as Huxley looked a little sheepish at his careless behaviour. She had always known Huxley was a little reckless, perhaps even slightly loose-lipped, which would connect the dots as to how he had gotten his whole operation exposed. It was possible he was just used to people knowing about his circumstance, as he had been labelled a rebel and a traitor for months on end.

It was clear however, that Elysia had no idea about Huxley's past crimes, which added up entirely for Inessa. It wasn't likely that District 2 would have reported their findings to the Capitol after suppressing the brewing rebellion that had been right under their noses. District 2 were a prideful district, and considered one of the Capitol's most loyal regions. For them to have had a working rebellion would have brought great shame and embarrassment to the entire district, so it only made sense to Inessa that it was quickly slipped under the rug, and dealt with entirely within District 2.

Although it wasn't beneficial for one of District 2's Career Tributes to be exposed as a rebel, it was even more counterproductive for Huxley himself, meaning he had to be very careful with how he concealed his history.

"Thanks for playing it off well, I won't make that slip up again," Huxley responded with hushed words, his demeanour much more serious and reassuring to Inessa. At least he appeared to be taking this very seriously, rather than making a joke out of it.

"Ahem… my door please?" Elysia called out from the car, as she watched the Peacekeepers being completely preoccupied by the District 2 tributes. Inessa couldn't help but bite her tongue at the rather entitled demand from Elysia, and although she had been nothing but kind to her and Huxley so far, Inessa knew better than to think she was an entirely good person.

Elysia had held the role as District 2's Escort for several years, and had certainly developed somewhat of an ego within that time. She had been selected due to her ability to be a show runner; she was exciting, loud, and knew how to treat a crowd. Having possessed the fabled position as an Escort of a Career District - not to mention the most successful Career District - she certainly had her moments of entitlement. Otherwise, Inessa couldn't really deny that she was the perfect Escort for District 2. She was competitive, head strong, and extremely passionate about her tributes.

Inessa watched as a Peacekeeper opened the car door for Elysia, allowing the woman to step out in her red high-heeled shoes, and giving Inessa a full body view of herself that she hadn't seen up-close since she had stood on the reaping stage beside her. Elysia's appearance was rather unique, in the sense that she often sported her natural long, raven black hair, which wasn't too common within Capitolites who absolutely adored sporting oddly coloured hair. However, Elysia's natural hair was heavily contrasted by another facial feature; her genetically modified eye colour, which she had altered to be a bright, crimson red, that often appeared fiery when she flared up with anger, or devilish when she was in playful mood. Along with her eyes, and her usual bright red lipstick, Elysia favoured red outfits that accentuated those features, although on the odd occasion would sometimes deck herself out in a smoky dark grey for some extra contrast.

Today however, was the usual red dress selection, sporting accentuations of gold that she had started displaying upon Delphi's victory the previous year. Inessa supposed she wanted a constant reminder to everyone that the district she represented was the current reigning champions of the Hunger Games.

"Still getting others to do a simple task like that for you, Elysia?" A voice suddenly pierced the air, possessing a rather amused tone that came from behind Inessa. All three of Inessa, Huxley, and Elysia turned their heads in the direction of the voice, only for Elysia's fiery red eyes to light up with excitement, almost glowing due to her sudden elation.

They were met with the sight of none other than Delphine Evergaze, who smiled humbly at Elysia with an arm resting across her stomach, and the other with its elbow propped against it, allowing her to keep the cigarette in her fingers held at mouth level as it continued to burn away. Inessa almost had to look twice at Delphi in order to comprehend the appearance of the girl, she was simply drop-dead gorgeous to the point that Inessa herself felt a small pang of jealousy.

She had of course seen her many times at the Academy, and only recently on the reaping stage, so she was very accustomed to Delphi and her beauty. However, seeing her now in such luxurious clothing, and finely adorned make-up that only accentuated her stunning features - Inessa couldn't help but think it was simply unfair.

It wasn't that Inessa thought that she herself was unremarkable looking by any means, if anything she was quite satisfied with her appearance. She herself had long, chestnut brown hair, that she normally liked to stylise in a braid. This was accompanied by lightly tanned skin - despite District 2's scarcity for the sun most of the year - as well as penetrative grey eyes, a symmetrical face, and a nicely toned body from her years of training.

She supposed that it was only natural for anyone to be jealous of Delphi, not only was she genetically blessed, but she had taken up the limelight of the Capitol media for the past twelve months. With that being said, Inessa remembered her as being a considerably genuine and thoughtful girl, which appeared to remain true despite the praise and attention she had received for the past year. At least that hadn't seemed to go to her head, like some of the other District 2 Victors she had seen over the years. She didn't recall the smoking habit however, Inessa didn't know what to make of that.

"Delphi!" Elysia squealed, as she trotted over to the Victor with a laughable speed impacted by her high-heels, and threw her arms around the girl. Delphi appeared surprised momentarily, before laughing softly and patting the older woman on the back.

"It's good to see you too," Delphi smiled, before her attention was brought to the two tributes still standing beside the car. Delphi's smile deepened as she locked eyes with Inessa, before kindly separating herself from Elysia.

"Inessa! Congratulations on getting the chance to volunteer," Delphi praised her, as Inessa politely nodded her gratitude, not quite finding the motivation to feign fake excitement.

"Thank you Delphi, I'm happy to follow in your footsteps," she responded quietly, causing Delphi to beam at her.

"Well I always thought it would either be yourself or Valor, I suppose her dropping out of the running was certainly favourable for you," Delphi commented. Inessa noticed Huxley physically recoil at the mention of Valor, his old sparring partner. She wasn't entirely sure what had happened between the two, but based on Huxley's reaction, she figured there must've been some bad-blood.

Huxley's movement appeared to have attracted the attention of Delphi, who turned her gaze to him, smiling pleasantly as she observed him.

"And Huxley, it was a nice surprise seeing you volunteer. I thought I was stuck with Payne this year, but I recently heard about his passing…" Delphi alluded, as Huxley not-so-subtly suppressed a snort from his nostrils.

"Ah yes… so sad," Huxley lamented, hanging his head with a subtle sarcasm that would only be picked up on by anyone who could read between the lines.

"Well," Delphi perked up, as she looked around at the three of them. "Shall we get on board the train?"

"Oh please," Elysia urged, sighing in relief. "I need a glass of Chardonnay."

As Elysia began to slink off in the direction of the train platform, Delphi looked back at Inessa and Huxley with a knowing smile.

"Buckle up you two, getting to the train is going to be… overwhelming," Delphi advised them, causing Inessa and Huxley to share a questioning glance with one another. As the two of them followed Delphi, whilst surrounded by a Peacekeeper entourage that remained coordinated and uniformed with their positions, Huxley leaned in close to Inessa, his voice a low grumble.

"How can this get anymore overwhel-"

Inessa didn't hear the rest of Huxley's words, as he was immediately cut-off by the ensuing chaos as soon as they exited the parking bay building.

"Elysia, Elysia! What are your thoughts on your tributes!?"

"Delphi you look fantastic! Is that overcoat an upcoming release from Magnifique!? Can you confirm the rumours that you're partnered with them!?"

"Elysia give us a smile! It'd look perfect on the cover!"

"Delphi! We heard that you might be dating Caleb Whitlock now! Do you have anything to say about that?"

It was the Capitol paparazzi. There were seemingly hundreds of them on either side of the iron gates, that held them back from breaching the path that Inessa followed Delphi and Elysia on. Inessa couldn't help but widen her eyes in surprise at just how chaotic it was, with a swarm of voices and shouts thundering in her ears as herself and Huxley stepped into view.

As soon as both tributes were visible, the media began to notice, before pushing their way towards them, almost trampling over one another as they stuck out their cameras and microphones in order to capture their presence. Inessa glanced up at Huxley, who appeared as equally bewildered as she did, not knowing how to process all of this positive attention that was directed at the two of them.

"Inessa, Inessa! Look this way!"

"Huxley your muscles are enormous! Give us a flex would you?"

"What were your motivations for volunteering Inessa? What are your thoughts on your District Partner?"

"What are your plans for the arena Huxley? Do you think you'll go all the way?"

Inessa herself had never drawn that much attention, even when she kept to herself at the Academy, she knew the focus was never on her, as everyone kept to themselves or their own little cliques. This was simply surreal for Inessa, and she didn't know how to handle it. Did she respond? Did she appease the paparazzi and pose for their ridiculous photos? It was all too much.

At a loss for words, Inessa's eyes landed on Delphi and Elysia, looking to them for some guidance on how to react to this scenario. Elysia appeared to be relishing in the attention, blowing kisses and winking at the cameras, whilst giving brief answers to any audible question she could make out over the noise as she continued to make her way forward. Delphi on the other hand, remained silent, simply opting to smile at the crowd of people, and giving polite waves every now and then as she kept a consistent pace whilst she headed for the train carriage.

Of the two options, Delphi's was by far the more suitable method of acting for Inessa, so as she followed her Mentor, she copied her actions and mannerisms, planting a subtle and content smile on her face, whilst waving in broad directions as to not single out any direct attention on an individual person.

Gah, look at me! Here I was harping on about not wanting to be overshadowed by Delphi. Now I'm mirroring her, Inessa critiqued herself, yet not being socially confident enough to do anything else.

Huxley on the other hand, remained fairly stoic. Inessa observed him sparingly, noticing that his face lacked any real expression, as his mouth retained a passive shape that barely bordered on a frown. His eyes swept over the crowd of people, almost narrowing at them as his disinterest came dangerously close to prominence.

Knowing the type of guy that Huxley was, Inessa supposed he didn't think too favourably about the crowd of Capitolites, considering he had harboured intentions of insurrection against them, unbeknownst to the ignorant individuals praising him. If Inessa had to guess however, his demeanour in the current moment likely wouldn't impact him too negatively in the long run. The Capitol audience loved a strong and scary Career type, it probably just added to their perceived allure of him.

Before too long - and to Inessa's relief - the four of them had entered the train carriage, where the noise from the outside was instantly cut off by the sliding doors snapping shut. Inessa had to take a deep breath as she relished the silence, whilst Huxley exhaled wearily.

"That… was not fun," he muttered, shaking his head disapprovingly.

"You'll get used to it kiddos, because you're going to be facing a lot of that from here on out," Elysia sang, as she appeared behind the two of them.

"She's right, this was only small-scale," Delphi chuckled, looking at the slightly dishevelled faces of Inessa and Huxley.

"Anyways, now the fun part begins!" Elysia exclaimed, her fingers appearing on Huxley's shoulders before pushing him forwards, much to Huxley's dismay. "Let's take a look at your home for the next night!"

As Inessa followed the excitable Elysia, and uncertain Huxley, they were presented with a rather staggering reveal of the luxurious train carriage they would be spending their time in. Inessa's eyes scanned over soft and shaggy grey carpet, plush sitting furniture with commendable embroiling etched into them, walls of sleek, contemporary designs with an assortment of unique LED lighting intersecting throughout, and of course being the main living area - a gigantic table filled to the brim with a bounty of delectable dishes that one could probably engorge on for a week and still not finish off.

For Inessa, it was pretty impressive, but nothing unlike what she had seen before, having hailed from a ludicrously rich family herself. Although they lived humbly on the surface to the immediate public, there were countless safe houses in which they owned where she could escape to at a moments notice, all of which were very reminiscent of this.

Huxley on the other hand, looked as if he had been hit with a stun-gun, his jaw dropping cartoonishly as his eyes widened at the scene in front of him. Inessa raised an eyebrow at him, slightly amused by his reaction as Huxley grew excited by the sight before him. Considering the boy had done more than eight months of hard time in a cold and desolate cell, she could only imagine how accomodating this must be for him.

"You're shitting me," Huxley gasped, astounded. Both Elysia and Delphi laughed as they watched the boy, before Delphi stepped forward and placed a hand on his elbow.

"Go on, you're free to explore," she encouraged him, as Huxley's eyes sparkled with excitement. Inessa's District Partner raced forward, with her slowly following in his path, watching as the boy went straight for the plush couch that faced the TV screen on the far end of the wall. Huxley leapt in the air, before he dove onto the couch, his body sinking into the pillows and causing him to release a groan of ecstasy, his limbs instantly falling limp as he rested his back against the comfortable cushions.

"Oh my god," he uttered, grinning from ear to ear. "A soft surface, oh how I've missed this."

"Wow, are the beds at the Academy really that hard?" Elysia questioned in amazement, as Inessa and Delphi shot each other a side-eye.

"Yeah, totally," Inessa responded casually, as Delphi bit her lip awkwardly.

"Ughhh… I don't want to get up ever again," Huxley sighed, as he stroked the fabric of the soft couch.

"Well I'm sorry to burst your bubble, but I need to show you to your rooms as well," Delphi spoke up, an apologetic tone to her voice.

"I guess there's plenty of time for this later," Huxley grumbled, before begrudgingly sitting up.

"Before we do that though, how about a refreshment? To celebrate of course," Elysia suggested, before snapping her fingers at a stationary figure in the corner of the room. "Avox! Four glasses of Chardonnay please!"

That's… kind of creepy. I didn't even notice him there, Inessa pondered, as she watched a uniformed man silently step forward, proceeding to bow his head in confirmation and setting off for what she could only assume was the glasses cabinet.

Elysia turned to both Inessa and Huxley, eyeing them down like she just did them a favour.

"Now usually I don't endorse children drinking, but you are both technically adults, so I think I can turn a blind eye this time," she admitted, winking at them with a grin.

"I'm not about to pass up on that!" Huxley exclaimed, as he shot up from the couch. "What about you Inessa?"

Inessa shrugged in response, rather indifferent to the chance to drink alcohol. Her parents had always been quite lenient about it, having allowed her to have the occasional glass of wine with her dinner. She supposed it would only make the situation awkward if she were to turn it down, and if she really wanted to integrate herself with the three of them, this was certainly a start to show that she was willing to oblige.

"Sure."

"Here we go!" Elysia said excitedly, clapping as the Avox approached the four of them with a tray of four glasses, filled appropriately with a golden, bubbly liquid. After Elysia dispersed the four glasses between them, she raised her own glass into the middle of their little circle, to which Inessa, Huxley, and Delphi both raised their own as well.

"To District 2!" Elysia exclaimed, before taking a sip from her glass.

"To District 2," both Inessa and Delphi echoed, albeit a little less enthusiastically. As Inessa rose the glass to her lips, she couldn't help but notice that Huxley hadn't said a word during their toast, proceeding to take a sip quietly, his eyes averting the rest of theirs.

It might have been lost on Elysia, and perhaps even Delphi, but to Inessa, it was abundantly clear what the seemingly innocuous notion meant. It was fair to surmise that Huxley's loyalties certainly weren't with District 2, especially after everything they had done to him, even if it was brought upon by himself.

The one thing that was clear, was that Huxley was loyal to nobody other than himself in these games. The one thing that was unclear however, was what did that mean for her?


Taro McNeal

18

~ District 11 Tribute ~


If Taro McNeal had ever been in an awkward situation before, this one would have to take the cake as the most awkward situation. The thought of running into an ex-partner is always an unsettling one, with the unresolved drama, the fallout of the break-up, and of course the anxious exchange of "Oh, how have you been? What have you been up to?" The normal circumstance would likely be in a neutral situation, perhaps at a store, or walking down a street, somewhere you could easily brush off the unwarranted reunion and escape at a moments notice.

There was no escape here however, there was no getting away and preserving the peace of his distance away from Tara. Both himself and Tara - of all people - were now stuck together, headed for a game of death. Perhaps it would've been tolerable if the break-up had been mutual - as tolerable as it could be for going into the Hunger Games - however due to the circumstances, their separation was far from it. As a result, the tensions had never been higher, with Taro refusing to say a word following the end of his goodbye session with his guardians, the only family he had left - his Grandma, and his Uncle, Jerel McNeal.

Of course, he did still have his child, his baby girl Lily, but it's not as if Tara's despicable parents were going to allow him to see his own child before he got shipped off to the games. He hadn't seen her since Tara had left him, taking the child with her and finding refuge back with her rich, pompous parents.

Taro had been shattered when it had happened, he had been in complete and utter denial. How could someone he had loved with everything he had, just up and leave him without even a second thought? Was he perfect? No, nobody was, even he could admit that. However, he simply couldn't comprehend what he had done so wrong that warranted these measures. No conversation, no attempt to even communicate the issues she may have been having with him, and finally a cruel and selfish desire to keep him from seeing his own child.

He felt as if he had been thrown away, discarded, like an unwanted toy that Tara had gotten bored of. He hadn't seen the signs of course, he'd be the first to admit he wasn't particularly observant when it came to reading people's emotions. However, that was why communication was so important; he simply couldn't read between the lines of her dissatisfaction.

He hadn't actually ever seen Tara again after she had left the divorce papers on the table of their tiny home, no matter how many times he had tried to contact her in order to negotiate Lily's custody. She simply refused to converse with him, and as a result, the first he had seen of her once more was as she was getting guided to the reaping stage.

Taro didn't know what he expected to feel in that moment, after hearing her name called out by Rosalind Wilds. Would it be empathy? Jealousy? Concern for her well-being? As it turned out, it was none of those things, but rather a strong sense of resentment upon seeing her face. It was at that moment, where Taro realised his love for Tara, which had persisted for months even after the divorce, had completely diminished to the point of pure hatred. Their love was dead and six-feet under, and what it was replaced by had began to rear it's ugly head.

He hated the girl. He hated how she had so willingly thrown away their relationship, and he hated her even more when she revealed the fact that she was meant to be getting married to someone else. Taro would have said that part came exclusively from jealousy, but instead it made him think something else, something that made him feel even worse.

He simply wasn't good enough. He wasn't worthy of love, he wasn't even worthy of being a father. These thoughts had always floated through his mind after Tara had left him, but they had never been so strongly reinforced prior to that moment. Taro knew he wasn't the most ideal person to settle down with, he was poor and free-spirited, relishing life and all it had to bring. But that didn't mean he acted recklessly, he hadn't been unfaithful, he hadn't been toxic, and the only times they had argued had been in relation to raising Lily.

Tara had always had the most involvement with raising the young girl, possessing quite the maternal instinct despite her own upbringing of always being at odds with her own mother. One of her main criticisms had been that Taro was immature, not taking his role as a father very seriously and not spending enough time with helping her raise Lily.

Perhaps some of this was true, Taro had always been exhausted when he had came home, and simply crashed before he could really tend to Lily, which left more of a burden on Tara. With that being said however, it was of course due to the fact that Taro spent hours upon hours out in the fields, working so that he could provide financial support in their already dire living circumstances. To Taro, it felt as if Tara almost purposely overlooked this, as if it was an excuse to leave him before they could become properly established.

Taro knew he shouldn't really dwell on the past now, considering his new dilemma, it would only cloud his judgment and hurt his chances in making it out of this thing alive. However, it was admittedly challenging when the person responsible for his abandonment issues was sitting directly across from him.

The carriage was silent in the moment, as it had been for the past fifteen minutes since they had arrived. The car journey to the train station had also been void of talking, with the exception of Rosalind trying to bring out conversation from the two of them as both Taro and Tara had sat on opposite seats in the car, each of them staring out of a window and refusing to acknowledge each others presence.

Walking towards the train had been just as uncomfortable, as both remained on either side of Rosalind, and their Mentor, Carnation Hyde, avoiding eye contact with the surrounding Capitol paparazzi who relentlessly threw out questions in the hopes that they would get some sort of scoop to report on.

Taro had been momentarily distracted upon entering the train carriage, having never seen the likes of such luxury in all of his eighteen-years, however the quick realisation that he had to share the experience with Tara had been enough to dampen his spirits within minutes.

That led him to the present, where Rosalind watched the two tributes uncomfortably, as they refused to make eye contact with each other. Carnation also sat silently, the Victor being a man of very few words as it was, however even he had seemed to pick up on the fact that there was some brewing tension between the two District 11 tributes.

"Hmm," Rosalind hummed disapprovingly, stroking her chin and tapping her cheek in contemplation. "This lack of conversation seems a little… counterproductive."

"Agreed," Carnation grunted, as he leant forward with his elbows propped on his knees, and his lips pressed to his entwined fists.

"You've both been awfully silent, I understand this is tough on you Tara considering your situation, but for the best chance of survival we really need to work together as a team," Rosalind encouraged softly, causing Tara's eyes to lower uncomfortably to the ground.

"Yeah… something tells me that's not how this is going to play out," Tara muttered, as she rubbed her arm awkwardly, this being the first time Taro had heard her voice since the Reaping.

"What? That's silly, of course it will," Rosalind insisted, completely oblivious to the truth of the underlying discourse between the two tributes. She turned to face Taro for a moment, growing concern evident in her gaze. "You don't think the same way as her do you Taro?"

"Rosalind," Taro said calmly, as he stared down Tara, who absolutely refused to meet his gaze. "Can you please tell Tara that I am in complete agreement with her?"

"Taro dear, you're directly in front of her. She can hear you," Rosalind pointed out in confusion. Taro folded his arms, completely ignoring Rosalind's words as he continued to stare at Tara.

"Rosalind, while you're at it, can you also tell Tara that she still has a black sesame seed stuck in her teeth? It's a real eye-sore," Taro continued, as Tara's expression fell, proceeding to discreetly locate the seed with her tongue.

"We're really doing this that way then?" Carnation sighed, grunting impatiently at Taro's admittedly petty behaviour.

"Why don't you just talk to me Taro! We can't keep things up like this," Tara finally cried out, breaking the unspoken agreement between them. Taro narrowed his eyes at Tara, spotting the hurt in her eyes, yet feeling nothing but indifference for her. The days that he'd rush to console the girl were long gone, he harboured no interest in easing her pain, or making things easier for her.

"Rosalind, can you please tell Tara that I'm simply respecting her wishes to never speak to me one-on-one again? Just as she has done through her family's lawyer for the past year?" Taro requested, his voice remaining far more composed than he would have expected a reunion between the two to be.

"Oh dear…" Rosalind uttered, realisation finally beginning to dawn on her. "You two aren't strangers..."

"Ding ding, we have a winner," Taro confirmed, as Tara looked away sadly. "We're rather acquainted I'd say."

"I'm sensing there is some… troubling history, between the pair of you," Rosalind observed, as both Taro and Tara nodded in confirmation. Tara leaned forward with a groan, her head in her hands as she rubbed it soothingly.

"This is probably the worst case scenario," Tara admitted, shaking her head in disbelief.

"There has to be some sort of resolution to this," Rosalind proposed, looking back and forth between the two tributes. "I understand things might be a bit contentious between the two of you, and although I don't know the full extent of the source of this - we have to come to some sort of agreement for the sake of both of you."

"Rosalind," Taro piped up, eyes still fixated hatefully on Tara. "Can you please tell Ta-"

"Enough!"

Carnation's voice bellowed through the air, causing everyone to jump and look at him in shock. Taro examined the behemoth of a man, his presence truly terrifying when aggravated. Although Carnation was known not to speak very often, he certainly made an impact when he did, as that was all it took to strike the fear of god into Taro, as he sank back into his couch cushion. Carnation looked between the two tributes, before slowly defusing back to a controlled composure.

"Enough of this already," he continued, his deep voice much softer in volume this time. "I don't think either of you understand just what you're facing right now. This is no time for petty feuds that transcend the games, your focus should be entirely on getting out of this alive."

"Carnation is completely right," Rosalind agreed, as the two tributes remained silent, both now looking away from one another. "We need to get this sorted out right here and right now, we can't have you two bickering the whole time."

"Bickering? He won't even address me directly!" Tara complained, before Rosalind shot her a piercing glare, silencing her like a mother would their disobedient child. The older woman turned to Taro, who watched silently as her expression turned more sympathetic.

"Now Taro, it seems like you're the one who is more hostile to Tara, so I can only assume you're feeling a deep sense of hurt," Rosalind suggested, causing Taro to bite his lip. "Is there anything you'd like to get off your chest? Anything we can address now and try to work through?"

"What is this, a therapy session?" Taro joked, fully in belief that this would lead them nowhere productive.

"If you'd like to look at it like that, sure," Rosalind shrugged, going along with it to Taro's surprise. He looked down at his legs for a moment, noticing one of them bouncing up and down as if it had become fidgety. After a brief moment of silence, Taro looked at Tara, who looked away from him instantly.

"You broke my heart Tara," Taro admitted quietly, the atmosphere becoming thick and suffocating as his demons came to the surface. "You left me as if I meant nothing, you took away my daughter, and you left a hollow husk of a person as a result."

The silence was deafening, as Taro's words appeared to ruminate with everyone in the carriage. He continued to watch Tara, who kept her eyes trained on the floor, her jaw firmly clenched as her lips pressed together in a frown.

"I had nothing after you left. Nobody to turn to, no motivation… barely even a will to live," Taro continued, his voice becoming shakier than it had been moments prior. "It took a lot to get out of that slump, and perhaps under different circumstances it would've been easier."

Taro's mouth went dry, as he desperately tried to swallow in order to soothe his closing throat. He clenched his fists as the anger within him began to bubble up, trying not unleash his rage and scream the obscenities he had wanted to at her.

"But for you… to refuse me access to seeing my own child? I never thought you'd be as low as to do that," Taro growled, his voice barely above a whisper as the discomfort continued to wallow throughout the room. Taro raised his eyes to his ex once more, seeing them beginning to brim with tears, her forehead creased as she tried to hold back the emotion, yet still refusing to meet his eyes with her own.

"You complained that I can't even address you, despite me trying to for months," Taro scoffed, as he sneered at her. "And yet you can't even look me in the eye, like a grown-up. Isn't that why you left me? Because I wasn't acting like the adult you wanted me to?"

Tara shifted uncomfortably in her seat, refusing to say anything in response to Taro as he continued to bear down on her with his unrelenting glare. Of course she couldn't face him properly now, she couldn't even do so back then before walking out on him.

"Look at me Tara," Taro commanded, leaning forward attentively as he waited for her to respond with action. "Look at me and prove to me you're more than just a coward who runs away from her problems."

The next few moments were tense, as tense as they'd ever been. Even Rosalind and Carnation seemed at a loss for words, albeit Carnation more so out of a lack of real investment in Taro and Tara's dispute. Taro's eyes remained fixated intently on Tara's, waiting for her to lock eyes with him, just hoping that perhaps deep down, there was a part of her that wanted to smooth things over.

Instead, Tara squeezed her eyes shut, pushing the tears from her eyelids as they trailed down her chocolate brown cheeks. Her lip quivered uncontrollably, as she hugged herself in a pitiful display that Taro could only surmise to be shame, before she abruptly stood up and made a beeline for the next carriage housing their sleeping quarters.

"Tara!" Rosalind called out after her, however Tara didn't stop, as her long black hair disappeared like a whip as she dashed into the conjoining carriage. Rosalind lowered her hand that had been stretched out towards the girl, before she looked at Taro disapprovingly.

"I think that was a bit much Taro," she criticised him, as he sank back into the couch, a burden having been lifted.

"I think that was tame, in comparison to what I would've liked to have said to her," Taro shrugged, causing Rosalind to sigh.

"We need to have a discussion later about how we're going to manage this," Rosalind insisted, before she herself stood up, brushing the creases out of her yellow dress. "I'm going to go check on her, I don't think she should be alone right now."

Given how she left me alone, I don't think she deserves anything less, Taro thought to himself, refraining from vocalising those thoughts as he watched Rosalind chase after Tara. As the door closed, the room fell silent, with the only occupants remaining being Taro, Carnation, and a few of the Avoxes that stood in the corners of the carriage. Taro began to lean his head back, the confrontation having sapped much of the energy that was within him.

"I understand how you feel," Carnation spoke up, causing Taro's gaze to focus on him. The tall, brooding man stared solemnly at him, his face untelling as he watched Taro carefully. Taro raised an eyebrow at him, curious as to what the Victor had to say.

"You do?" Taro questioned, earning a silent nod from Carnation.

"The two of you had a kid together right? And you had your daughter taken away from you against your will?" Carnation inquired, earning a grumble from Taro.

"Yep," he responded bluntly, not enjoying the reminder of what had happened to him.

"My situation is similar, not perfectly the same… but similar," Carnation breathed, his lips thinning as he appeared to be deep in thought. Taro immediately recognised where he was coming from, as Carnation's story was rather well-known throughout Panem. The poor guy had been reaped alongside his twelve year-old sister - Meredith - and he had lost her to those games despite trying everything in his power to get her back home instead of himself.

Taro supposed that both situations could be compared in specific ways, albeit Carnation's was admittedly far worse. Whilst Taro had lost his daughter to a marriage dispute, Carnation had lost his sister due to her demise, all while it was televised to the entire country for people's entertainment. If there was anyone that knew a thing or two about loss - it was Carnation Hyde.

"I'm sorry you had to experience that," Taro spoke up, as Carnation twiddled his thumbs.

"Nobody is more sorry than me, I'm the one that failed Meredith," Carnation sighed, before he looked over at Taro. "The difference is, you still have the opportunity to change your fate. Your daughter is still out there, and between you and Tara - she'll need at least one of you."

That was a thought that hadn't even graced Taro's mind yet. Whilst he had been obsessing over the fact that he had to go into the games with Tara, he hadn't even given the thought that a child - his child - could be about to lose both her parents. He knew she'd be in the possession of Tara's family, and even though he didn't particularly like the Canterbury Family, there was no doubt that the infant would still be safe.

Nevertheless, Lily growing up without both of her parents… it wasn't a thought he wanted to stomach. He needed either himself or Tara to make it out alive, even if the latter went against his own wishes.

With that being said though, he knew that the two of them simply couldn't be aligned within the arena. There was no resolving their history, and if anything, allying with her would only bring arguments and despair. It was a non-negotiable; he and Tara would not be allies going into this.

"How do you propose we approach this then?" Taro questioned, leaning forward intently. "The two of us fighting together is out of the question, if anything it would be a disadvantage. I can barely stand being in the same room as her."

"What I'm going to say may come across as harsh, but it's the best piece of advice I can give you," Carnation advised him, causing Taro to gulp nervously.

"And what would that be?" Taro asked hesitantly.

"Suck it up," Carnation put it bluntly, his resolve unwavering as he folded his arms. "Put up with her, don't get in each others way, and focus on what you can achieve."

The words were clear cut, and Taro simply couldn't deny the logic to them. Carnation was talking sense, and likely knew exactly what he was talking about. However, it would be rather difficult for Taro to simply overlook Tara, acting as if nothing had happened as they were forced to share a living space together.

But perhaps it has to be done, Taro reasoned with himself, knowing deep down that it was the best choice. It's not as if Carnation was suggesting they make amends, all he was advising was for Taro to focus on himself alone, to not let emotion influence his decisions.

Not only would that mean avoiding Tara as much as humanly possible, but it would also mean that they couldn't allow the Capitol to know about their history. If that were to come out, the Gamemakers could easily use that information to their advantage, forcing them in a situation where they may have to go up against each other.

"I'll keep that in mind," Taro responded, before propping his ankle up on his other leg.

"Now enough of that topic, tell me about yourself Taro," Carnation instructed in a no-nonsense sort of tone. "Strengths? Weaknesses? What do you provide that I can help you with?"

"Well… I come from a poor background, I never completed school because I needed to start working in the fields to support myself," Taro began, as Carnation watched him. "I couldn't afford the home that Tara and I lived in after we divorced because I stopped working for a while, I ended up moving back in with my Grandma."

"No parents?" Carnation questioned, to which Taro shook his head.

"They died when I was young. Mom died of pneumonia when I was only two, and Dad died of heatstroke when I was seven."

"My condolences," Carnation muttered, to which Taro simply shrugged in response to.

"It's okay, I was too young to really remember them, except for my father a little. He was always self-reliant, I think that rubbed off on me," Taro chuckled, earning a nod from Carnation.

"Good, good. Self-reliance is a strong skill to have in the arena. Are you thinking of allies?" The Mentor questioned, as Taro rose his head in the air in contemplation.

"I dunno, haven't really thought that far ahead yet. I guess I'd be open to it, as long as it isn't with Tara," Taro confirmed, earning a surprising snort from Carnation.

"I think that's as clear as day, it sounds like that ship has sailed anyways," Carnation observed.

"With that being said though, I don't trust very easily. So potential allies will have to prove themselves worthwhile," Taro admitted, earning an approving nod from Carnation.

"Now strengths, let's discuss those," Carnation changed the subject, as he leant back into a more comfortable position. "I can tell just by looking at you that you're fit, strong, and you worked out in the fields did you say? You'd have some experience then with handling tools."

"That I do," Taro grinned. "You ever heard of a cane knife?"

"I was working in the fields while you were probably still in diapers, of course I know," Carnation challenged him. "I wouldn't say it's the most effective weapon though, nor the most common in an arena. You'd be better suited to a machete I'd think."

"That was your weapon of choice, huh?" Taro commented, as Carnation grimaced at his words. Of course, it mustn't have been a pleasant memory that Taro had brought up, despite it being through an act of vengeance for his sister. The way in which Carnation had gutted those Careers with his machete had been simply visceral, to the point that Taro was sure even Carnation had nightmares of the blood on his hands.

"It was," Carnation confirmed, choosing not to expand on the conversation. "And for good reason. It's light, effective to manage, and quite easy to conceal."

"Noted," Taro answered, beginning to feel good about the advice he was receiving.

"Now not to alarm you," Carnation added, eyeing Taro up and down. "Right out of the gate, I can tell the Careers are going to target you."

"Well that's a reassuring thought," Taro frowned. "But do tell why."

"You're quite visibly a strong and capable tribute. If the Careers don't approach you to join up with them - which isn't too common of an occurrence - they're going to want to take you out as early as they can, when they're at their strongest," Carnation revealed, causing Taro to click his teeth.

"Tsk, yeah I guess that figures," Taro groaned, as he eyed Carnation curiously. "I assume that's what they did to you?"

"Oh no, they approached me to join them on the first day of training," Carnation confessed, causing Taro's jaw to drop.

"Dude… are you serious?"

"Dead serious," Carnation reiterated, causing Taro to scratch the back of his head.

"I guess that makes sense, with your size I'm sure they'd have wanted you with them as opposed to against them," Taro raved, whilst Carnation remained as stoic as ever despite the praise. "And you never thought to join them?"

"I'd rather tear my innards out than join the damn Careers," Carnation growled, as his face contorted into one of contempt. "Even if I had been low enough to do so, they wouldn't have spared Meredith."

"Ahh, of course," Taro agreed, having forgotten about Carnation's extra dilemma.

"With that being said," Carnation warned, his voice dripping with sincerity. "If you do happen to join the Careers, I'll strangle you myself."

Taro gulped, knowing better to question the validity of Carnation's threats. It's not as if he had intended to join the Careers anyways, Taro was wildly aware of who they would turn against first if the situation came to it. As Taro placed his hand on his chest, he looked Carnation straight in the eyes.

"Hand over my heart, I will not join the Careers," Taro promised, earning a reaffirming nod from the older man. The two of them continued to converse for a period of time, with Carnation being mostly blunt and to the point, but certainly providing Taro with a few valuable insights that he wouldn't have even thought of to begin with. Their discussion was only cut short however, as the door to the conjoining carriage opened once more, revealing a clearly troubled Rosalind.

"How is she?" Carnation questioned, as Rosalind resumed her position on the couch, sinking in with an exasperated sigh.

"Emotional, nothing I can blame her for," Rosalind admitted, as she turned her gaze to Taro. "I'm sorry Taro, after talking to Tara I can see why you're upset with her."

"Thanks Rosalind," Taro muttered, the conversation being back on Tara beginning to sour his mood once more.

"For what it's worth, she seems very apologetic for the way she treated you. It doesn't seem like she realised just how much it impacted you," Rosalind revealed, as Taro bit his lip. "I think she just doesn't know how to face you."

"Well that shouldn't be a problem," Taro confided, earning an eyebrow raise from Rosalind. "I don't intend to face her very much at all."

Rosalind looked at Taro sadly, before lowering her eyes to the floor.

"I… still have hope that the two of your can work on being amicable, at least for the sake of your daughter," she confessed causing Taro to twist his mouth into a frown.

"It's wishful thinking Rosalind," Taro admitted, feeling slightly bad for the mediator position they had indirectly put her in.

"I figured as much," Rosalind frowned, shaking her head disapprovingly. "However, I will need you to play nice for what's about to come."

"What might that be?" Taro questioned blankly. Both Carnation and Rosalind looked at each other for a moment, before turning their head back to Taro.

"The Reaping Recap," Carnation informed him, causing Taro to groan. Of course, by now all of the Reapings should have concluded, meaning they would soon be broadcasting them in succession of one another for the Capitol crowd to see. Although the time zones made it so that not all Reapings were held at the same time, there were numerous that did occur simultaneously, making it so that the Capitol didn't air them live, but rather played them all one after the other once the final Reaping had concluded.

Taro could see why the two of them wanted himself and Tara to watch it, they would be getting the first look at their competition, being able to pick out the biggest threats, or the most interesting ally prospects. However, the one question on Taro's mind, was did they really need to watch it together?

"Can't we watch it separately?" Taro pleaded, as Rosalind shook her head.

"I'm afraid we can't do that," she denied him, causing Taro to slouch in defeat.

"All four of us are watching it together, it would be most beneficial to have you both there so that I can give you some pointers," Carnation insisted. "Doing it separately would only waste my time."

Taro knew there was no point in resisting. When Carnations mind was made up, it was undeterred by anything else. He really didn't have a choice, he'd have to watch the Reapings alongside Tara.

"If you insist…" Taro sighed, dreading the moment already.

Whatever, I need to get used to her presence anyway, Taro reasoned with himself, as he pressed his lips together in a frown.

After all, if he couldn't achieve a simple task such as watching the recaps with his ex wife - how could he expect to be able to win the deadliest competition the world had ever seen?


Asa Kosgrov

17

~ District 3 Tribute ~


"Well, well, well. Isn't this quite the turn of events?"

It had been the first time that the two District 3 tributes had been alone together since the Reaping, as Asa Kosgrov smiled devilishly at her District Partner, with a look of utter amusement etched upon her face. She couldn't help but smirk as she studied the less than thrilled expression resting on Peter's head, although that wasn't saying much when the boy always seemed to have a sullen look on his face.

Peter's eyes lazily met hers, his face hardly shifting as he watched her staring at him, her posture leaning forward with a sense of curiosity at the mysterious boy. Despite her clear eagerness to engage with him however, Peter didn't elicit much of a reaction, but rather turned away from her, releasing a considerable sigh from his thin lips.

"Not in a talkative mood today either huh?" Asa teased him, as she leaned back and swung one of her legs over the other. "Figures, considering the circumstances."

"It's not that," Peter admitted, as he crossed his arms thoughtfully. "I guess I'm still processing all of this."

"It's a lot to take in," Asa agreed, as she tilted her head at him. "Not only was I reaped for the games, but I was reaped alongside you. Who could've seen that coming?"

It had come as a great surprise when Asa had come to learn that the person that would be joining alongside her in the games, would be the strange boy she had run into within that warehouse only the previous night. Come the morning, she had already mostly forgotten about her encounter with Peter after her night on the run, her attention having turned to that of the Reaping.

The boy had been intriguing, sure - but she had never expected to see him again, and hadn't seen the need to keep him in mind. The Reaping was a much more dire issue that she was facing, and she had very good reason to assume the worst had been about to happen to her. Following her abandonment of Sentinel Enterprises, she was certain that Eden Lorenda, her former boss, would've hunted her down to the ends of the earth in order to prevent her from leaking any crucial secrets about the company.

With Sentinel being so intrinsically involved with the Capitol, Asa had possessed a gut feeling that if Eden couldn't find Asa herself, she'd have some strings pulled in order to lure her out of hiding - and that came in the form of the Reaping. Of course, Asa couldn't say for a certainty that it was rigged, but she knew better than to leave it out of the question. In all likelihood, it was the most obvious reasoning for her selection, the odds were truly insurmountable that she'd have been Reaped out of chance mere months after abandoning her duties with Sentinel.

Low and behold, here she was, sitting on a train as she was being shipped off to her intended demise. Of course, she had no intention of that happening however. She'd fight tooth and nail to make it out of whatever arena Aegis Harrow threw at her, and she'd win her freedom, and immunity from ever having Eden touch her again.

She knew it wouldn't be easy, but she certainly liked her chances. She had always followed a violent path in life, having been sucked up into a criminal world where she had to adapt into being the dealer of pain rather than the recipient. She knew she'd be going up against Careers; trained killers that had refined their combat abilities, and that would be certain to exceed her own fighting prowess.

But that of course was only one factor of importance. They had put all of their skill points into combat, and would be significantly lacking in other areas. The difference between Asa and the Careers, is that she knew how to survive. She had street smarts, she was sneaky, and she was as cunning as they came. Perhaps Asa would struggle in an one-on-one fight against most - if not all - of the Careers, however she knew how to use her environment to her advantage, she knew how to play dirty, and she knew how to exploit people's weaknesses.

Naturally, she'd keep that all under wraps for the time being. She didn't need anyone knowing the extent of her capabilities, and certainly didn't need Peter knowing anything more about her. She had already made the blunder of spilling her story to him the night before she was reaped, having not even thought it possible that the two could both be reaped together. In fact, she almost thought he was lying when he said he had been seventeen - the guy hardly looked it with how his unkempt appearance made him look.

However, she had made her bed with that oversight, now she had to live in it. She'd be unbelievably cautious around the boy from here on out, as not only did he know a thing or two about her now - but she also simply didn't trust him. There was something about Peter that was unsettling to her, there was simply no way he was just a runaway. The boy had stared death in the face without even batting an eye when she had jokingly threatened to kill him, in fact he had taken quite the peculiar interest in her katana, not showing even a glimpse of fear at the sight of the blade.

Oh how I miss her, Asa frowned, feeling naked without her cherished katana by her side. The sword was a girl of course - at least in Asa's eyes - it just gave off that feeling with it's slim form, sleek eloquence, and dashing regality. Fortunately, she had made the rational decision to stash it at a trusted friends home, where she'd be able to reclaim it as soon as she got out of the arena. She had no intention of returning it to her parents; the uncaring and miserable sod's that they were would've likely confiscated it from her forever.

"Ugh what is taking them so long!?" Asa complained, rolling her eyes as the pair of them continued to wait for the two absent figures that had left both tributes alone together.

"Relax, he has only been gone for a minute or two," Peter responded boredly, his hollow eyes finally locking onto Asa. "He said he'd try and convince her to join us, but you know how she is. Who knows how long it could take?"

Assem - or more commonly known as Assemble Knox - was their Mentor, and the Victor of the 138th Hunger Games. The man was considered one of the most intelligent tributes the games had ever seen, managing to conquer one of the most unique and unusual arenas the tributes had ever been dumped in.

Whereas every other games had been established in a physical arena, the 138th Hunger Games took a completely different approach. It took place in a city of eternal night, filled to the brim with towering sky scrapers, bright LED displays that lit up the city, hologram projections that could become tangible and attack unsuspecting tributes, dark alley ways to hide in, and even an underground system of sewerage tunnels. Flashy compared to the more common natural terrain of most arenas, but nothing too out of the ordinary.

What set it apart however, was that the games took place in complete virtual reality, in which the tributes were entirely unaware of. They were set up in a glass viewing room in the middle of the Capitol, where visitors could come see them in person whilst they were strapped to tables and placed in headsets that they couldn't awaken from themselves.

The livestream of this virtual reality world was displayed on screens for the viewers to see what was happening in the virtual arena. When a tribute died in this virtual reality, their helmet would inject a serum into their bodies that would kill them in real life. This allowed the tributes within to be capable of many surreal things, being able to access unthinkable weapons, learn and program themselves with unique abilities, and create masterful cinematic fights with all of their newfound capabilities. It essentially, played like a video game.

Assemble was the only one able to realise that the tributes were in a virtual reality world, the experimental technology having come from Sentinel Enterprises where he had begun as an intern. Through this, he was able to abuse the coding and mechanisms of the world, and grant himself far superior abilities that would gift him items and abilities, as well as make him stronger, more durable, and exceptionally deadly. This oversight resulted in his victory, with the Capitol needing to conceal the flaw in this design.

A games like that had never been revisited since, but even Asa couldn't deny that it was an innovative concept. It had also allowed District 3 their first Victor in years, so for that, she was thankful that it had resulted in a much younger, and vastly more intelligent Mentor than Assem's predecessor.

However, Assem had his work cut out for him, as he had set off in order to retrieve their rather obnoxious and highly deceitful Escort - Tiffany Rhineheart. Tiffany was a cunning and conniving woman that Asa had recently came to learn was very different behind closed doors to what she presented on the surface. Tiffany had risen the Escort ranks over the years, clawing her way from District 12's mentor at age nineteen, all the way up to District 3 at twenty-seven years-old, her end goal of course being the fabled District 1 Escort role.

For this reason, she wasn't too fond of the District 2 Escort - Elysia Fairforge - or District 1's Escort - a woman named Persephone Mayfair - as both currently blocked her path from reaching her overall goal, a fact that she had already complained about in the car ride to the train. From what Asa had observed in her short time around Tiffany, she would be pretty two-faced with most people, acting pleasant in person whilst tearing them down behind their back. She would also apparently do whatever she had to in order to gain favour with working her way up the ranks according to Assem, whether it was sabotaging others, or even sleeping with people that could help her.

Upon reaching the train - and briefly introducing them to Assem - Tiffany had essentially excused herself so that she could return to her own private quarters, claiming she needed to freshen up after having had to spend a mere hour or two in "dirty District 3". However, now that the Reaping Recaps were about to air, Assem had wanted her to be present so that the four of them could watch it together.

"Personally I'd rather she weren't here, she's kind of a bitch," Asa commented, earning a snort from Peter.

"Reminds me a little of yourself," Peter confessed, earning a glare from Asa.

"That's a low blow, but a fair observation," Asa admitted, nodding her head begrudgingly. "I'd like to think I'm a different kind of bitch though."

"What kind might that be?" Peter questioned, his voice sounding more humoured than usual.

"The fun kind!" Asa exclaimed with a smirk. "Tiffany is just a self-absorbed bitch, I come with a little more flare."

Asa winked at Peter, causing the boy to roll his eyes as he restrained a smile from forming on his face.

"Not convinced?" Asa interrogated, as Peter flashed her a side-eye.

"You're incorrigible, that's for sure," he replied, earning a scoff from Asa.

"And you're cynical."

"That I am."

Their conversation was abruptly cut short, as the door to the hallway containing the private rooms flung open. Asa and Peter simultaneously fell silent, pretending as if they hadn't just been conversing as two people emerged from the doorway, the first of which being Assem with a considerably exhausted expression on his face. Assem wasn't particularly tall, possessing a thin build, messy black hair, round framed metal glasses that were protecting soft, oak brown eyes, as well as a round, baby-face that made him still look like a teenager rather than the twenty-eight year-old man he was.

His skin was as pale as could be, suggesting the man didn't see the light of day much, which was accurate considering Assem supposedly liked to hole himself up in his home and tinker with electronics for most of his spare time. Although the man possessed incredible intellect, Asa was certain that he wouldn't have emerged alive from most other arenas due to the physicality of the games.

Behind him, was an unenthusiastic Tiffany Rhineheart, who looked relatively annoyed that her private time had been disturbed for this. Tiffany often presented herself with a very purple themed colour palette, which still held true in the moment as despite having changed out of her extravagant lilac coloured dress from the Reaping, she had simply changed into more casual clothes, including deep purple leggings, and a tight black tank top, both of which clung tightly to her body and truthfully accentuated her curves. In terms of her physical features, Tiffany's hair sported a light amethyst colour, her skin a fair complexion, her eyes a sparkly violet that shimmered under the train lighting, and even her lips, fingernails, and toenails coated in a light, purple lipstick and nail polish respectively. The woman sure loved her purple.

"I got her guys," Assem smiled weakly, as he collapsed onto the couch, likely exhausted from the barrage of protests he must've received from Tiffany. The woman hummed a "hmph" as she defiantly sat next to Assem, folding her arms irritably.

"I had to cut my yoga session short for this, so you two better be paying attention," she snapped at both Asa and Peter, as her eyes washed over them distastefully. Already, neither Asa or Peter had made the best first impressions on Tiffany, mostly due to the way in which both tributes presented. Whilst Asa's grungy way of dressing in ripped clothes, big black boots, and a leather jacket that admittedly reeked of cigarette smoke was likely off-putting to Tiffany, it seemed as if Peter had copped the brunt of the Escort's judgment, considering the boy looked - and was - essentially homeless.

"Have you not showered yet!?" Tiffany demanded, her eyes fixated on Peter as she sniffed the air.

"I haven't had access to a shower in all my life," Peter responded quietly to her, causing Tiffany's eyes to bulge. "They're not exactly common in the districts Miss Rhineheart."

"You have access here! Go shower!" She insisted, before Assem calmly placed a hand on Tiffany's shoulder.

"Relax Tiffany, he can shower after we're done here. This is more important," Assem reasoned, causing Tiffany to scowl.

"I beg to differ," she murmured to herself, crossing a leg over the other in frustration. "How am I meant to gather sponsors for kids looking like that?"

"So you two," Assem spoke up, ignoring Tiffany's complaints. "Have you gotten to know each other a bit?"

Neither Asa nor Peter had made it known to their Mentor that they had run into each other the previous night, with both tributes intending to remain quiet on the topic. They had only really had the chance to speak familiarly when Assem had went to fetch Tiffany, but otherwise Asa intended to conceal that knowledge. Considering the circumstances of their meeting, and the fact that the two of them both appeared to lead shady paths, it likely wasn't beneficial to make their association known by anyone else.

"As much as we need to know," Asa shrugged, earning a smile from Assem.

"That's good! It's good that you're getting along, even if you don't intend to work together."

I sure as hell won't be, Asa thought to herself, as both her and Peter locked eyes. Something told Asa, that Peter was thinking the exact same thing.

"It's starting…" Tiffany interjected, as her purple eyes focused directly on the screen in front of them. Everyone else's eyes turned towards the display on the screen, as the four of them watched the opening cinematic depicting the words "The Reapings" and "149th Annual Hunger Games". Asa sat quietly as she watched the screen transition into the seal for District 1, before a long range shot that held the entirety of District 1's city centre was displayed.

Asa wouldn't say "city" sparingly either, because District 1 truly did appear to be like a smaller version of the Capitol itself, with gigantic structures that flaunted wealth and luxury, surrounding the vicinity of the crowd. She could spot several marble statues being showcased, depicting famous Capitol figures, as well as it's extensive line of Victor's all posing in ways that represented the methods in which they won, or were most well known for.

The stage itself was filled to the brim with their living Victors, as well as their most notable one in the form of Lucietta Beaumont - the most recent District 1 Victor and their current tributes likely Mentor. Asa also caught a glimpse of their Escort, Persephone Mayfair, who she had seen a number of times through previous Reapings.

"Tsk… god I hate seeing her," Tiffany hissed, as she seethed from her position on the couch.

The first tribute to be selected, a fifteen year-old girl named Reverie Laurent, was called to the stage, however she was quickly stopped by the unsurprising call of a volunteer. Asa watched as an athletic girl with tanned skin, exceptionally long, dark hair, and a distinctive biracial ethnicity that appeared to be a mix of Asian and Causcasian, stepped up to the stage, declaring herself to be named Mavis St. Clair.

The girl looked strong, prideful, and very confident in herself, although Asa couldn't help but raise her eyebrow at the questionable dress choice.

A wedding dress? And why a black one? Asa thought to herself, watching as Mavis had to slightly pull up the length every time she walked to avoid tripping. Asa could tell based on the girls toned body, and deadly gaze in her eyes, that she was going to be a tough opponent. She was different from the usual District 1 girl, who'd often be focusing on parading herself and batting her eyes everywhere she looked. Mavis had a look of determination in her eyes, one that suggested that she was not to be fucked with.

"St. Clair… I don't recognise the surname. She might not be from a Victor family like a lot of their tributes usually are," Assem commented, as he stroked his chin. "Although that wedding dress… it might not be her maiden name."

"She's one to watch out for," Peter sighed, as he laid back comfortably.

"All the Careers are," Asa argued, as Peter shook his head.

"Not always," he denied, as they watched the second tribute being reaped. This time it was a seventeen year-old boy named Aston Archambault, although this too was short-lived, as another boy quietly volunteered, earning a distinctive muttering from the crowd. Asa was taken slightly off-guard, when a noticeably short, and stocky boy made his way to the stage, his baby-face making him look younger than the eighteen year-old he supposedly was. Unlike Mavis, the boys eyes were soft, kind, and even his composure seemed unsure of himself.

"Who the hell is that!?" Tiffany cried out, sticking her arms out in outrage. "Where's my District 1 hottie?"

"Who's team are you on…?" Asa questioned, as the boy on screen answered Tiffany's question by revealing himself as Cairo Bronte. Asa didn't know what to make of Cairo, he certainly wasn't the traditional District 1 tribute that the district put forward, even less-so than Mavis had been. He looked like the type of guy who'd put his coat over a puddle so you didn't have to step in it, she wasn't sure what he would bring to the Careers.

"Mavis is the clear threat there, but I wouldn't overlook the boy either," Assem spoke up, as the screen transitioned into District 2. "District 1 wouldn't have allowed him to volunteer without good reason."

The room fell silent once more as the District 2 Reaping began, their Town Centre also looking significantly more developed than almost all the other districts, with large stone structures that looked much more reinforced and defensive than the elegant and artistic architecture of District 1. Upon their stage were another plethora of previous Victors, even more sizeable than District 1's, and included the most recent Victor, Delphine Evergaze.

Tiffany once more grumbled her disapproval as the camera settled on Elysia Fairforge, who was making quite the show in riling up the crowd, the woman certainly knowing how to inject the energy. Asa couldn't help but think that Elysia would have a much more difficult time achieving the same welcome from the outlier districts.

The first tribute to be reaped was a sixteen-year old girl named Hypatia Ryredell, although once again a volunteer was produced, this time in the form of an eighteen year-old girl with hauntingly unreadable grey eyes. Similarly to Mavis, this girl was also quite toned and athletic, her long brown hair braided down to her lower back, and her posture straight and composed. She didn't look particularly excited to volunteer, but rather calm and collected, and even as she got to the stage, she didn't converse very much with Elysia at all, answering questions with few words and eyes carefully scanning the crowd. Asa came to know, that the girls name was Inessa Gaibannes.

Inessa gave very little to go off, but sometimes it was the more reserved Careers that were hiding the ultimate brutality that they were capable of. Asa would have to keep an eye on Inessa.

The second to be reaped was a younger boy of about thirteen, whose name was Tungsten McMahon. Asa expectantly waited for the inevitable volunteer, and when he did come forward, she couldn't help but purse her lips together.

Damn, she thought bitterly, as a tall, muscular boy with mocha coloured skin, and long, wildly maintained dreads stepped forward, casually volunteering as if it were just another afternoon. Her eyes studied his domineering face, his serpent tattoo, and his neatly trimmed facial hair. He looked like he was in his mid-twenties, he appeared even older than Peter did.

Huxley Montgomery was what he revealed his name to be, and the guy was already quite clearly the biggest physical threat so far. He looked mean, he looked aggressive, he looked like he could crush your head without a second thought.

"Oh my god…" Tiffany breathed, clearly dismayed by what District 2 had produced this year.

"Okay, District 2 are clearly the ones to look out for again," Peter muttered casually, as Assem sighed.

"I think that's a pretty clear fact. I don't even think I have to advise you to steer clear of the both of them," Assem spoke up, earning a nod from Asa and Peter.

However, Asa reassured herself. Everyone has their weaknesses.

"Great…" Peter groaned, as their very own district flashed on the screen, causing a snicker from Asa.

"What? Not excited to see yourself on TV?" She teased, causing Peter to shake his head.

"Not excited to see myself in general," he admitted, causing Tiffany to scowl.

"Maybe if you had just washed up beforehand…"

"I think we're done with that topic," Assem interrupted, before an argument could break out.

They were first greeted with a view of District 3's stage, with District 3's Mayor - Mayor Macintosh - stood front and centre, just as Asa had recalled it. Tiffany clapped excitedly as she watched herself slink out on to the stage after Mayor Macintosh had introduced her, looking between the three of them to gauge the reactions of Asa, Peter and Assem.

"Oh my goodness I look so good! Look at me bringing so much colour to District 3!" Tiffany raved, which Asa unfortunately couldn't dispute, as her vibrant purple colours stuck out glaringly against the gloomy, dreary backdrop of District 3's Town Square.

"Simply breathtaking," Peter responded, in the most deadpan, sarcastic voice that he could muster, causing Tiffany to scowl at the boy.

"You think just because your hair's blue that you can hold a flame to me?" Tiffany scoffed, shaking her head in disbelief. "Unbelievable."

God these two really don't like each other, Asa smirked, quietly amused by the developing feud between Tiffany and Peter. She supposed that Peter had every right not to like Tiffany, considering she had done nothing but slander his hygiene.

After District 3's pitiful lineup of Victor's was introduced, Mayor Macintosh handed it over to Tiffany on the screen, with the rest playing out exactly as Asa had experienced. She watched her name be called, with the camera singling in on her a little too quickly for a a girl they wouldn't have been aware of prior. Asa was pretty satisfied with how she had handled the turn of events, watching her own calm demeanour as she made her way up to the stage. The expression she'd describe herself to have had was a simple one that screamed 'unimpressed', which was essentially what she had felt in the moment.

Next up was Peter's selection, and similarly to Asa, he had not exactly been thrilled to have been reaped. However, as Asa watched Peter walking up to the stage, his face a lot clearer on the recording than it had been from a distance in person, she couldn't help but notice just how casual Peter was about his fate. If anything, the one thing that came to her mind upon watching Peter's reaction - was acceptance.

It wasn't a particularly excitable Reaping, but the two of them had done well in order to not make a negative or eye-catching introduction. Asa doubted many other tributes would make much of their reactions, which worked in both of their favours.

"You both did well," Assem admired, glancing between both Asa and Peter. "I respect your ability to both maintain your composure."

"Yeah, at least neither of you burst into tears like last years tributes did," Tiffany commended, as cynical as the compliment was.

Following up was District 4, who possessed another Escort that Tiffany supposedly wasn't too fond of, that being Kallista Hemingway. To Asa, it seemed as if Tiffany simply didn't like any of the Career Escorts, and she'd put her money on it being rooted in jealousy. District 4 was a vast contrast to the view of District 3, with sunny skies, bright colours, and almost a festival-like atmosphere that was similar to that of both District 1 and 2. They all sure liked to celebrate their Reapings.

Typical Career districts, Asa rolled her eyes, as she watched Kallista select the first person - a girl by the name of Mariana Crestwater. Asa waited for the inevitable volunteer, and sure enough she did come forward once Kallista asked the crowd if anyone would like to volunteer. Strangely enough, the girl that stepped forward reminded Asa a lot of herself, in both the way she dressed, as well as her appearance, with a few facial piercings, and her natural resting bitch face. As Kallista spoke to the girl, she identified herself as Nix Sherborne, in quite possibly the most blunt and snarky demeanour Asa herself had ever witnessed.

"She seems like a hard-ass," Tiffany snickered, as Peter nodded in agreement.

"Yeah, she reminds me of someone," Peter agreed, sneaking a glance at Asa. Asa narrowed her eyes at him, before folding her arms accusingly.

"What's that supposed to mean Peter?" She challenged him, earning a few chuckles out of both Assem and Tiffany. Asa turned her attention back to Nix, who looked rather bored for someone who had just volunteered. In Asa's opinion, the girl seemed pretty fearless, and had clearly been through some shit if the scar on the shaved side of her head was anything to go off of. Although she was smaller than all of the other Careers so far, something told Asa she was one of the few to look out for.

The final Career to be reaped wouldn't last very long, as a mere few moments after Wrath Wrightford's name was called, another boy stepped forward, excitedly making himself known as Yeon Ha-Sun, as he held a big, goofy grin on his face. The immediate takeaway from Yeon was that he was going to be trouble. As friendly and charismatic as he came off, his physical appearance spoke for itself, as he stood tall, muscular, and handsome - a deadly combination. The way that he carried himself screamed "leader", and even at this early stage, Asa could surmise that this would likely be the boy that would take charge of the Careers.

Even the District 4 crowd seemed more energetic for him than they did for Nix, he seemed highly beloved and equally as capable. His aura in itself was certainly going to win over the Capitol crowd, and if Asa had anything at all to say about Yeon - it was that he would likely be seen as the early Victor favourite.

After District 4, the Career Districts had all been exhausted, with Asa not expecting much from the following districts, but certainly still remaining attentive for any tributes that may have stood out. Next up was District 5, with their Escort - Soren Wright - producing two tributes that paled in comparison to what had been shown so far.

The first was a girl named Sorrel Meddleham, who was exceptionally thin to the point that Asa could probably snap her arms like a twig. The girl displayed clear remorse for her new reality, managing to contain her tears as she got up to the stage, but not able to dispel the face of sorrow that she projected to the crowd.

The boy was much more impressive, albeit on the younger side. Storm Nyquist-Herrera appeared athletic, charismatic, and seemed to hold a rather popular presence with the crowd, as many reacted to his selection with gasps and wails of confusion. He handled it pretty well from what Asa could observe, and although District 5 rarely produced noteworthy tributes, she deemed Storm as someone to at least keep an eye on for his physical aptitude alone.

District 6 was far more interesting, to the point that even Asa was taken by surprise. It started off rather ordinary, with the Escort - Isadora Springthorpe - selecting a fourteen year-old girl named Mally Trax, the youngest tribute thus far. The girl wailed and screamed the whole time she was getting carried to the stage, not even making an attempt to hide the flowing tears gushing down her face.

The boy who was reaped shortly after however, was who really drew Asa's attention, her eyebrows raising in genuine surprise when Zion Whitlock was called up to the stage, his name sounding awfully familiar.

"Oh… shit," Asa murmured, as she looked to Assem for confirmation. "Is that who I think it is?"

"Yes," Assem confirmed, stroking his chin in concern. "That's Caleb Whitlock's brother."

"Caleb Whitlock? As in the Victor from District 6?" Tiffany questioned, clearly alarmed by the reveal.

"The very same one," Assem nodded, as Tiffany groaned in frustration.

"If the Careers weren't already bad enough," she complained, as they all watched Zion rather calmly make his way to the stage. "To think there's another Caleb…"

"He's just as tall as well," Peter commented, not sounding as concerned as the rest of them. "And look how built the guy is, he must be very disciplined."

"Or he's just like his brother," Asa suggested, a hint of bitterness on the tip of her tongue. "A trained brute."

Leaving the residing threat of the brother of one of Panem's most brutal Victor's lingering in the back of her mind, Asa's attention quickly switched over to District 7, as their Escort - the highly respected Orion Oakwood - reaped Seven's first tribute. Even Asa's breath was taken away by the beauty of the girl that was selected, as Mila Harlen gracefully made her way to the stage, showing a respectable ability to contain the evident fear of what she was facing. Although Asa didn't deem Mila too impressive from a tribute standpoint, her beauty alone was certain to draw the eyes of sponsors, which in itself was sometimes the difference between life and death. She'd be a favourite with the Capitol, Asa was sure.

The next tribute however, was a bit more of a train wreck. When Logan Bunyan was reaped, Tiffany audibly gasped when the boy decided to make a break for it, before being tackled by Peacekeepers not too long after. Asa couldn't help but chuckle when watching it, knowing he had zero chance of escaping his fate.

Logan himself actually looked fairly formidable. The boy was physically built, with a nasty scar running through his eyebrow, and a steely expression that looked rather uncharacteristic for the way he was behaving. This was even further emphasised, when Logan collapsed on stage, passing out which caused Tiffany to cover her mouth in surprise.

"How did that happen!?" The woman questioned, sounding mortified as she watched a few Peacekeepers checking over Logan's lifeless form on the stage.

"Well you see Tiffany, when some people are faced with their certain death, it can be a little overwhelming and their mind might just shut down," Asa explained, as if she was talking to a toddler.

But I'm sure you'd know nothing of that, being a Capitolite, Asa thought to herself, as Tiffany blabbered an exasperated response, trying to defend herself.

District 8 was up next, and to say it wasn't entertaining would be a lie. The first tribute to be reaped was Ritva Zelenka, and to suggest that the girl looked angry was an understatement. Ritva looked resolutely pissed off, despite admirably walking up to the stage without hassle, and relatively resigned to her fate. Asa couldn't put her finger on it, but there was something about Ritva that made her appear dangerous, whether it be the way her eyes glaringly scanned the crowd, or simply her unwavering demeanour in the face of possible death.

Her District Partner however, now he was someone to be cautious of. Moments after Jacquard Rousseau was reaped, the boy simply laughed; a maniacal laughter that was nothing less than unsettling. It was a laugh that suggested both disbelief and amusement, as if he was registering what had happened in a state of delirium. As the Peacekeepers approached him, putting their hands on his body, Jacquard shoved them away, even throwing a punch at one of them which prompted them to restrain him.

"Whatever this guy's on - I want some," Asa commented, astounded by how fearless the boy from Eight was.

"He's so aggressive," Tiffany criticised, her face contorting into one of disgust. "How unsightly."

"Steer clear of this guy, at all costs," Assem spoke up, his eyes staring darkly at Jacquard's face plastered on the screen. "I've seen his type before, he's bad news."

"I thought I'd befriend him," Peter joked, earning a glare from Tiffany.

"Don't you dare!"

"Aw, worried about me are you Tiffany?" Peter jested, causing Tiffany to raise her nose in the air.

"Your placement affects my chances of moving up, I don't need you getting backstabbed by him in the Bloodbath," Tiffany sneered, causing Asa to roll her eyes.

"Oooof course," Asa said flatly, unsurprised by Tiffany's selfish motives.

Her attention was quickly shifted however, when Jacquard was finally planted on the stage by the Peacekeepers, as the Escort for District 8 - Harquinne Harlow - finally presented the two tributes together. Asa couldn't help but burst out into laughter, when as the two tributes were expected to shake hands, Ritva instead opted to spit in the face of Jacquard.

"Ugh! Disgusting!" Tiffany recoiled, as they all watched Jacquard calmly wiping Ritva's saliva off of his face.

"They must have shared history," Assem observed, as Asa watched in fascination.

"I'm surprised he didn't retaliate, maybe he can hold himself back after all?" Asa theorised.

It was District 9 being showcased next, and it started off relatively ordinarily. The female tribute was up first, and the girl that was reaped turned out to be Chianti Barlowe. The girl seemed unassuming enough, nothing really stuck out to Asa about her aside from her quiet and almost submissive demeanour. However, where the real drama came, was from the stunt their Escort - Xerxes Steelgrave - pulled off.

"Xerxes… you fucking idiot," Tiffany groaned, her face in one of her palms as they all watched Xerxes encourage Chianti to pull her District Partners name from the bowl.

"Is that even allowed?" Asa questioned, as Tiffany displeasingly nodded her head.

"Technically yes, although it would never be recommended. It could put a huge burden on the tribute doing so," Assem explained, as Chianti pulled out a paper slip on the screen, seemingly pressured by Xerxes asking her to do so on the spot.

"That dumbass, he's going to get chewed out by the other Escorts," Tiffany criticised, as Xerxes called out Kallias Kuol as the male tribute for District 9. Kallias seemed a little shell-shocked by the selection, however managed to make his way up without issue. Once again, nothing really stuck out about the boy to Asa, other than the fact that many in the crowd looked displeased by his selection. He didn't give off the impression that he was too scorned by Chianti, fortunately for her, as he appeared to reassure her as the two shook hands.

District 10's Reaping was… strange, to say the least. The girl that was chosen - Nimue Soares - was eery, and silent as can be, as she walked to the stage simply staring straight ahead. To Asa, her expression suggested she hadn't even been dismayed by her selection, although that was quickly disputed when Asa noticed her bottom lip quivering, the only giveaway that she felt anything about being reaped at all. She made her way up to the stage entirely entrenched in a cloak, it's hood so big that it came down over her face and almost entirely concealed it. There was something unsettling about her, albeit something… sad.

As she reached the stage and stood beside the District 10 Escort - Ulysses Styx - a Peacekeeper stepped forward and ripped the hood off of Nimue's head to reveal her physical identity in all of its glory, only to cause a weird wave of disarray amongst the crowd.

"The Lady of the Lake!" One of them shouted, appearing to recognise Nimue as this supposed moniker. Asa and Peter both glanced at each other in confusion, whilst Tiffany hummed curiously.

"What's the big deal? She's just a girl?" She questioned, earning a shrug from Asa.

"I wish I could tell you," Asa answered honestly, wondering the answer herself. Nimue handed a piece of paper to Ulysses, who quickly revealed the girl was mute, and couldn't converse vocally, forcing the man to continue on with the Reaping without throwing a bunch of questions at the poor girl.

The boy to be reaped after Nimue, was named Pippin Embree, who Asa almost immediately wrote off as insignificant. The boy slowly walked up to the stage with tears in his eyes, biting his lower lip as presumable family members around him called out his name. He was short for a boy his age, and had a kind, yet albeit soft demeanour about him, that Asa couldn't help but see as an inherent weakness. She didn't see him getting very far.

District 11 was slightly spicier, with the first tribute to be reaped being Tara Canterbury. The girl from Eleven had a less-than adequate reaction to being reaped, crying silently as her mother wailed in the background. When she got to the stage, she dropped the bombshell that she was meant to be getting married in the near future - even Asa could admit, that must suck. She couldn't feel too sorry for her however, she was an adversary at the end of the day.

Taro McNeal was reaped next, and his reaction was what made things interesting. Instantly, the boy was hostile towards his District Partner, throwing nasty glares at her as he walked up, and then refusing to acknowledge her when he stood upon the stage. The boy even ignored the handshake at the end, simply turning around and allowing the Peacekeepers to escort him away.

"That was rude," Tiffany exclaimed, shocked by the behaviour of the District 11 boy.

"It was… although I can't tell if that's just his personality, or if there is something deeper between those two," Assem contemplated, as he fixed his glasses position on his face. "They appeared familiar with each other."

"That was saucy," Asa grinned, as her eyes lingered on Taro's image on the screen. "I'm kind of curious as to what's going on there."

Finally, the recap was coming to an end as District 12 came onto the screen, the Town Square looking as shabby as it always had in the previous Reapings she had watched in years passed. Just when Asa was ready to tune out, the whole room was shocked when a girl stepped forward to volunteer, the only outlier district volunteer there had been for these games.

"What on earth?" Tiffany gasped, as they were met with the image of a fifteen year-old girl almost waltzing towards the stage, a strange smile upon her face as everyone else in the crowd stared at her as if she had two heads.

"Why?" Asa cried out, at a loss for what logic could be running through the girls head.

"This… is unprecedented," Assem commented, also appearing flabbergasted by the act. They were met with no answers however, as the girl - who revealed herself to be Iskra Amani - refused to elaborate on the reason she volunteered when prodded by their Escort - Calliope Clearwater. Even Calliope appeared to be devoid of an answer on how to handle the situation.

"There's something really off about that," Peter muttered, as he squinted his eyes at the image of Iskra on the screen.

"I really don't get it, she just seems like a normal girl," Asa spoke up, trying to understand the rationale behind Iskra volunteering. "A bit emaciated, but normal."

"We can't afford any oversights," Assem insisted, as he looked at the two of them. "Keep an eye on this girl, there could be more to this."

The final tribute to be reaped was thankfully quite unimpressive, albeit comical, as Jet Rushen was called to the stage, proceeding to be sick dangerously close to Calliope's admittedly stylish heels, barely missing them as the contents of his stomach spilled over the stage. The boy himself was on the younger side, and also rather emaciated, although Asa expected nothing less from impoverished District 12.

"The girl doesn't look very happy with her District Partner," Assem pointed out, as Asa inspected Iskra's face. Sure enough, despite her face being very passive and hard to read, her levels of giddiness had drastically diminished upon Jet's selection, with her eyes being the big giveaway as she stared darkly at Jet. For the time being, Asa wasn't sure of what to make of it.

"Ugh finally!" Tiffany huffed, before abruptly standing up and stomping off. "I'm continuing my yoga session. Don't disturb me! We can talk about this at dinner."

Nobody attempted to stop Tiffany, as the three of them sat in silence, recounting the events that they had just watched on the screen.

"So, what do you make of that Assem?" Peter inquired, as Assem stroked his chin thoughtfully.

"I'd say…" he responded, deep in thought as his words trailed off. "We have our work cut out for us."

He looked between the two of them, as his demeanour perked up a bit.

"I think the main threats speak for themselves, but did anyone spark either of you as ally-worthy?" Assem questioned curiously. Peter looked up at the ceiling, as he contemplated the words, appearing uncertain in the current moment, which didn't come as a surprise to Asa. He did come across as a bit of a lone-wolf. Asa however, smiled enigmatically at Assem.

"I might have someone in mind," she grinned, ideas beginning to brew in her head.

"Yeah? And who might that be?" Peter prodded her, causing Asa's smile to grow even wider.

"You'll just have to wait and find out."


Zion Whitlock

18

~ District 6 Tribute ~


- An Hour Earlier -


"Corvelle! Corvelle! You let me on this god damn train right now! You hear me!?"

It hadn't even been two minutes of setting foot upon the bullet train, before Zion Whitlock was stopped in his tracks, a shiver running down his spine as a rather familiar voice pierced the air, despite it being muffled from behind the train wall that acted as a barrier between the carriage and the entrance room of the train. The voice was accompanied by a multitude of bangs, as a fist repetitively pounded against the door, causing the heads of all the carriage occupants to perk up.

The ensuing silence from the occupants was resounding at first, one of surprise and confusion, before finally Corvelle Rivet - the Victor of the 142nd Hunger Games - groaned with dread.

"You've got to be kidding me…" she sighed, clearly annoyed by the sudden presence of the demanding person outside of the train carriage.

"Why is he here?" Isadora Springthorpe cried out, putting her hands on her hips accusingly as she stared in bewilderment at the pounding door. Zion swallowed nervously, before lowering his head shamefully.

"H-he's here for me," Zion admitted, causing Isadora to throw a side-eye at him.

"Don't tell me you asked him to come along," Isadora scolded him, prompting Zion to shake his head.

"I did no such thing," Zion assured her, as Corvelle paced back and forth uncomfortably. "This is of his own accord."

"Ugh, I should've known!" Isadora wailed, before glaring at an Avox who stood closest to the door. "Well what are you waiting for? You might as well let that asshole inside."

The Avox wordlessly obeyed, before unlocking the train door using the buttoned device to the side of it, causing the doors to slide open soundlessly. Standing before them, huffing and puffing, was the Victor of the 141st Hunger Games, Caleb Whitlock, and more importantly - Zion's older brother.

"About fucking time," Caleb spat, as the man stormed in with a look of clear frustration. Zion was perplexed to see his older brother on the train with them, admittedly not having expected him to go to such measures. Although Victor's were allowed passage to the Capitol freely due to their celebrity status, normally Victors that weren't Mentors travelled on an entirely separate train carriage, far removed from where the tributes, Mentor, and Escort resided. To see him there was a surprise to Zion, although perhaps he had been naive to suspect he wouldn't pull of a stunt like this.

"Caleb… what are you doing here? This is the tribute carriage," Corvelle spoke, already massaging her temples due to the clearly troubling situation. Caleb ignored her initially, as he made a beeline for the liquor bar, grabbing an empty glass and proceeding to pour himself an ample helping of rum.

"And an Escort, and a Mentor carriage," Caleb finally responded, as he brought the rim of the glass to his lips. "I am of course my baby brothers mentor, so I don't see a problem."

"You're not an assigned mentor, it's very different," Isadora piped up, folding her arms as she narrowed her eyes at Caleb. "And god forbid you mentor someone, you psychotic son of a bitch."

"Hush hush child, the adults are speaking," Caleb sneered at the Escort, causing anger to flare within the small woman's eyes. Zion knew Caleb had overstepped on that one, especially from what he was aware about Isadora from Caleb's recounts of the woman.

From what Zion knew, Isadora was an intelligent and prideful woman, who could come across as rather snarky and sarcastic to those around her. For some reason, the Capitol loved Isadora's blunt and careless attitude, considering her to be sassy and humorous, despite that just being her general personality. She could apparently be difficult to get along with - especially with someone like Caleb who she clashed with every time they interacted - but Zion had seen her to have a caring underside to those she was close with, although it rarely surfaced in public.

Normally, Isadora had a pretty hard exterior, and didn't let a lot get to her mentally. A person could call her any number of insults, whether it be a bitch, a skank, or even a whore - it would do nothing to get to her head. The one way to touch Isadora's nerves however, was to comment on her small physique, her smaller and less-endowed figure always a sore topic for her. Most know not to touch that subject around her, unless they intend to piss her off, which was exactly what Caleb knew to exploit.

Zion took a quick look at Isadora, noting her appearance, and observed that despite her possessing a tiny frame, he found that she still exuded quite a large persona. Isadora loved darker colours, having kept her natural black hair, but traditionally adding streaks of dark cobalt blues, or amethyst purples depending on her mood. Todays colour of choice, appeared to be a blue day. Her outfits were always generally slim fitting and tended to match the colour of her hair streaks, the clothing usually accentuating her petite frame that she paraded with an aura of confidence. Clearly, the Escort took pride in her appearance, and didn't let the teasing or mockery stifle her fashion sense.

"Besides, I'm a good Mentor. I got her home didn't I?" Caleb bragged, as he pointed at the still very exasperated Corvelle. That much was true, Caleb did manage to help bring home Corvelle a mere year after he had won his own games, in what was the first back-to-back victory run District 6 had ever had. Zion would argue Caleb was giving himself more credit than he was due however, as really it had been Corvelle that had done the brunt of the work in making it out alive.

Corvelle's games were held in an orchard of bountiful fruits, alongside an extensive garden of flowers that emitted strong chemical aromas that would alter the feelings of tributes, some of which would turn tributes against their allies, and others which would serve as an aphrodisiac of sorts that could make the tributes desire even their enemies. These conditions allowed Corvelle to seduce her way into the Career pack, all of which would end up fighting over her and killing one another off. Corvelle ultimately won when it was just her and the surviving Career tribute that she had wrapped around her finger, who she ended up tragically stabbing through the heart. This earned Corvelle the nickname "The Heartbreaker" from the Capitol, and had made her quite an alluring companion for those that dabbled with Victor Escorts.

It was Caleb's twisted mind that had instigated the idea of Corvelle seducing and deceiving her way into the Career pack, which they had been lucky to pull off thanks to the conditions of the arena that year. Zion wouldn't put it past his brother to take full credit for that achievement however, the man was as narcissistic as one can get.

"That's beside the point Caleb, you're not meant to be here. You're only going to be a distraction to Zion," Corvelle protested weakly, the woman appearing meek in the presence of her old Mentor.

"Ha! What a load of shit," Caleb cackled, shaking his head in disagreement. "I know my brother better than anyone, and if he's going to be a tribute, then I'm sure as hell taking part. Even if it is unofficially."

"If he's anything like you, then I pity the other tributes," Isadora muttered, eyeing Zion suspiciously. Zion didn't allow his face to react, although he did lower his eyes from Isadora's glare, opting not to challenge the woman's preconceived judgements.

The truth was, the idea of being anything like his older brother pained him. He wasn't deluded or loyal enough to Caleb to believe the man was misunderstood or virtuous in any way. The indisputable fact, was that Caleb was a pure menace; both in the current moment, back all the way to when he was a tribute.

Caleb was well-known to be overconfident and hedonistic, relishing his life as a Victor and truly leaning into a life of luxury and fame. He was the first District 6 Victor for a long while, and truly took advantage of the drought breaking win through promiscuity and indulgence. He had always been known for wanting to bring on a dynasty of Victor's for District 6, successfully bringing home Corvelle the following year, but faltering as time progressed due to his addictive habits.

His infamy started off with his performance in the games, which were set in a more gladiatorial format, taking place in an arena with an Ancient Roman aesthetic. In Caleb's arena, tributes would start off on the first level, and would need a certain number of tributes to die in order to proceed to the level above, which would progressively grow smaller and harder to hide within. The first level required six tributes to die, the second required four, the third required four, and the fourth required four as well, leaving the final two to battle it out on the fifth floor.

Caleb was notorious for making many underhanded tactics, being quick to betray allies and use his brute strength to unfairly target the weaker tributes in order to open up the next level more efficiently. Ultimately, Caleb won when he made it to the fifth and final level, needing to fight a Career girl who was Caleb's greatest adversary of the bunch. Caleb came out on top in this fight, slitting the throat of the girl from Two, and cementing a permanent legacy built on betrayal, deceit, and pure carnage.

It's not even as if Caleb was especially trained for the games, but rather his pure size, bloodlust, and desire for violence that allowed him to conquer his arena. It certainly worked out in his favour, but the effect that this had on Zion was far worse than he could have ever foresaw.

For most of his teenage life, Zion was always tied in with his brother's negative image, with people being fearful, or even resentful of him out of his pure association with Caleb. It had certainly made life difficult socially, with many too afraid to converse with him at all, leaving him mostly isolated and misunderstood to begin with. Naturally, almost out of some self-fulfilling prophecy, this left Zion without anyone other than his immediate family - Caleb included.

It hadn't always been that way for Zion however, if anything his life had started off fairly normally. His mother and father - Kathryn and Kenneth Whitlock - both had Zion six years after Caleb had been born, and together they had been a seemingly normal family. Caleb had always been bigger, brasher, and much more confident, but at that point in time, Zion had looked up to his older brother, aspiring to be as strong and proud as he was.

That all took a turn for the worst when Caleb was reaped however, whilst Zion was only at the young age of ten. Initially, he had undergone all of the usual levels of grief, driven by fear for his older brother, the thought of losing him seemingly being unbearable. However, once the games started, his view of Caleb began to irrevocably shift. He watched his brother lie, deceive, and slaughter innocent children in the most visceral, and brutal ways possible. It wasn't just a case of Caleb trying to survive, but rather thriving and enjoying the carnage that he was dishing out.

The more that Caleb killed, the more fearful Zion grew of his own brother, and by the end of it - Zion dreaded him even returning to District 6. Caleb came back a different person from what Zion knew, but perhaps that was the real Caleb all along, now having lost his shackles and the need to hide this chaotic side of himself.

It was at that point, that Caleb took it upon himself to mould Zion, in an attempt to make him his own protégé. Zion didn't think that Caleb wanted him to become a tribute necessarily, but what he did want was a brother who was exactly like him in every way, a person that understood him for what he was, and that he could relate to in a way that nobody else could. Caleb began to train Zion to fight, to be able to stick up for himself, and meet the standards that Caleb set himself to. Although Zion was reluctant to do so at first, he felt as if he had no choice but to submit to his brothers demands, too fearful of what he would do if he refused. He partook in martial arts, and hand-to-hand combat, all in order to condition his body to an insane degree.

Caleb was relentless with his training, convinced that he could turn Zion into a clone of himself. And eventually, it began to work. Zion began to turn for the worst as he grew older, mastering his fighting prowess, disciplining his body to perfection, but all the while turning into an egotistical and indulgent person. Caleb's influence morphed his mind, destroying his sense of humility and compassion for others. He didn't care about anyone anymore, because with Zion's newfound confidence and capability - nothing was out of reach.

Until that one fateful day, Zion thought to himself, reflecting on the event that had changed his course in life unconditionally. It was an event that had left scars on Zion, both literally and figuratively, one that to this day he couldn't believe he had contributed to. Some nights, he still woke up after experiencing nightmares and guilt about what had taken place, leaving him gasping for air, and rocking back and forth in complete and utter shame.

What had happened that day, brought about the stark realisation that Zion had needed to face in order to change his trajectory - he was not a good person.

Ever since that day, the burden of what he had done continued to bear down on him, no matter what he did in an attempt to repent. The world around him crumbled, his parents essentially disassociated from him, and everywhere he went, he was looked at with hostility and paranoia. This time however, it was warranted. It wasn't just a byproduct of Caleb's Hunger Games rampage, but rather his own actions that had brought about this social rejection.

It was at this point, that Zion needed to self-isolate, and follow a journey of healing to undo all the damage he had inflicted upon himself. As he was searching for answers, he stumbled across some old scriptures in his family's library, which detailed a hermit life of pacifism and sobriety. It had sounded peaceful to Zion, as he scanned over every detail of how this way of living could benefit someone as lost as himself.

It seemed like a lonely life to Zion, but he was already as ostracised as they came at that point already. What did he have to lose by trying to improve his life this way? And so he pursued it. Zion changed his lifestyle drastically over the next few months, starting off by begging his wealthy father to purchase him a small, shabby, vacant train depot, in which he could live in solitude and out of their hair. It would be the last investment of any financial support he'd ever seek from his father, and although he didn't take pride in requesting the handout, he knew it was necessary to set up his life of self-sufficiency.

Next, he entirely cut off Caleb's influence, refusing to engage with his brother in ways that exceeded his new way of life, opting to remain cordial if need be. Of course, this didn't last, as Caleb lost interest in Zion once he no longer walked the same path as him, surprisingly leaving him to his resources.

For the next few years, Zion treated his little train depot as his own private monastery; living life in solitude, meditating, and working on himself and his outlook on life. He was more at peace with himself, content with his past, and as a result - free. No longer did he harbour desires of self-indulgence, promiscuity, or violence. He lived a simple, passive life, and he was finally happy.

After some time had passed, he also opened up his refuge to other people; those that had lost themselves, and were looking to find a new purpose and motivation for life. It had started off with his one remaining friend - Austin Revino - his best friend that he had known since elementary school, and the only person that hadn't abandoned him after Zion had treaded down the depraved road he was clawing his way back from. Austin had helped Zion set himself up at the monastery, and after seeing all the good it had done Zion, he had joined him in his quaint lifestyle.

Before too long, another person joined them, this time a woman named Nora, who had lost her daughter in the Hunger Games, and had been searching for any reason to go on in life. Supposedly the woman was so heartbroken that she had lost her daughter, that when her husband had insisted on having another child, she had refused, getting shunned by her family in the process.

Nora stumbled across Zion's little oasis and found new meaning, as well as acceptance with her reality, and a willingness to build herself back up. The monastery drew more lost souls like Nora, until they began to function like a little community. It was Zion's little slice of paradise, his perfect redemption for all the pain he had caused others.

That was of course, until today. It had all happened in a split second, his newfound way of life being ripped from his arms, only for him to be dragged back into the cruel world of tyranny, pain, and the Hunger Games. Zion knew it was something he could not fight, in fact he had vehemently sworn never to fight again, at least in ways that were either pointless or unnecessary. And yet he was here, headed to a game based entirely on fighting and killing one another. It was safe to say, the odds certainly weren't looking good for him.

He could completely reassure Isadora that he was nothing like his brother, and that neither she nor Corvelle would have any problems with him as a person. However, where their problems would start, would be his refusal to take part in the killing of other humans. They'd certainly have a problem with him not willing to take another persons life in exchange for his own, it was their whole purpose for being there after all, and he'd be failing them as a result.

However, he simply couldn't fall back into that life of havoc and debauchery, and to kill another person, could certainly play into the trigger for that. Although Zion had no intentions of killing another tribute, he figured he could in the very least consider self-defence as a form of restraint - even if it was in itself the very essence of 'fighting'. Zion knew how to expertly disarm and incapacitate others without causing serious bodily harm, and if he did face death at any point in time - he wouldn't just open his arms and embrace it. Inflicting intentional harm on another person for the sole purpose of dealing pain to them however, that was another story entirely.

"Do you not trust us to take care of your brother Caleb?" Corvelle questioned, appearing slightly offended by the idea. Caleb laughed, before eyeing Corvelle intently.

"It's not you that I don't trust Corvelle - not that your track record with bringing home tributes the past few years has been particularly impressive," Caleb informed the woman, causing Corvelle to puff her cheeks out irritably. "It's Zion that I don't trust."

"How so?" Isadora challenged Caleb bluntly, folding her arms and appearing unconvinced. Caleb looked at Zion, with what appeared to be an expression of doubt.

"You've gone soft Zion," Caleb accused him, looking him up and down with a frown. "What happened to the warrior I trained? Where did he go?"

"You know what happened," Zion responded quietly, his voice dropping an octave as it dripped sincerity. "I went too far, I did a lot of bad that you influenced me to do."

"That's ridiculous," Caleb deflected, waving off Zion's words dismissively. "I didn't make you do anything. All your actions were of your own accord, I simply toughened you up a bit."

"I was ten Caleb," Zion countered softly, wanting to keep the conversation as calm as possible. "You had me fighting boys twice my age, you had me stealing alcohol from dad's liquor collection, you warped my mind to think everything I did was okay because my big brother was a famous Victor."

"That was just a bit of fun, you were too reserved, too… weak-minded," Caleb insisted, causing Zion to frown.

"I… was just a kid," Zion protested, causing Caleb to snort.

"And now you're a man, you have me to thank for that," he grinned, as he threw his head back and finished off his glass of rum. "The issue is, you've turned into a submissive man - a pussy. Have you even told these two that you don't plan on killing anyone?"

Zion remained silent, as he felt the eyes of Corvelle and Isadora boring into him, not quite sure on how they were taking the conversation as he refused to meet their eye. Instead, he kept his eyes firmly trained on his older brother, refusing to look away from the imposing man.

"Zion…" Isadora spoke up, taking a few steps towards him. "I don't endorse anything your brother may have influenced you to do when you were younger, in fact I have a few choice words for him that I'll refrain from saying now."

Isadora glared at Caleb, who held his hands up blamelessly, causing the woman to produce a distinctive "tchh".

"However I must ask, is that true? Do you really plan not to fight anyone?" She continued, sounding rather concerned about what could be in store for Zion if he persisted down that path.

"I'm sure I'll be forced to defend myself," Zion started, his eyes finally meeting the Escorts. "But I don't want to kill others if I can help it. I fear what may become of me if I allow myself to do that."

"I rest my case," Caleb exclaimed, seeming vindicated by Zion's response. "You need me here to snap Zion out of this stupid mindset, he thinks he's all high and mighty now because he went on this stupid self-discovery journey."

"Why do you care though?" Corvelle questioned Caleb, putting a hand on her hip. "From what it seems, Zion doesn't want anything to do with you."

"I can't allow him to disgrace my name by being weak-willed and pathetic," Caleb revealed, not at all sugar-coating his intentions. "He needs a dose of reality, and when he does; he will become unstoppable."

Zion gulped nervously, knowing that Caleb was completely serious with his intentions. If his older brother was anything, it was dedicated. Once he set his mind to something, he would pursue it to the ends of the earth.

"You hear me Zion? I know that side of you is still in there, just waiting to be unleashed," Caleb declared, as he prodded his finger repetitively against Zion's chest. "You can act like this all you like for the moment, but I know when push comes to shove, you'll come out to play."

"Alright that's enough," Corvelle interjected, stepping in between Zion and Caleb with a hand on either of their chests. In doing so, Zion noticed Corvelle suddenly jolt her wrist upon touching him, as soon as her hand graced his pectoral muscle, causing the woman to do a double-take as her eyes widened at the touch of Zion's chest.

"Oh wow," she muttered, before coughing into her fist, as Zion furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, having not expected that kind of reaction from Corvelle.

"What's wrong?" Isadora questioned, as Corvelle recomposed herself.

"Nothing. Nothing's wrong," Corvelle responded quickly, deflecting the question before she glared at Caleb. "Well, that's a lie, there is something wrong. You need to leave now Caleb, you shouldn't be on this carriage anyway."

"Why? You don't miss my company anymore?" Caleb leered, a rather telling expression on his face.

"I never enjoyed your company," Corvelle denied, as she folded her arms insistently.

"Oh yeah? That wasn't what you were screaming at the top of your lungs on your Victory Tour," Caleb shrugged, causing Corvelle's face to redden with embarrassment.

"S-shut up!" She demanded, causing Isadora to put her hand in her face in disappointment.

"Really Corvelle? Him?" She sighed, her eyes full of judgment as Corvelle went as red as a tomato.

Why am I not surprised? Zion thought to himself, feeling sorry for the woman who had found herself under the sheets with his brother several years ago. It was no secret that Caleb was both a womaniser and a prolific sex-pest, and given Caleb had revealed Corvelle's secret reputation within the Capitol to Zion in the past, he supposed it wasn't too outlandish.

"Stop changing the subject!" Corvelle commanded Caleb in a shrill voice, ignoring Isadora's criticisms as her arms stood stiffly by her side. "It's time for you to go."

"Corvelle, if you don't mind my interruption, I believe it's a little too late for that now," Zion spoke up softly, as Corvelle turned her shimmering blue eyes to his, her long brown locks falling over her chest with the movement of her head.

Whilst the three adults had been arguing, it seemed that none of them - or at least Corvelle - had realised that the train had begun to depart, with the sparse habitation of the outskirts of District 6 already beginning to fly past outside of the windows.

"Shit," Corvelle muttered, as Caleb put his hands up behind his head with a victorious smile.

"Looks like you're stuck with me," he grinned, causing Corvelle to punch him in the arm in frustration.

"Um… what's going on out here?"

A new voice had joined the conversation, causing the four of them to turn in the direction of the private quarters, where Mally had finally shown her face, cautiously stepping out from the doorway. Her look of confusion was quickly wiped from her face, as her eyes locked onto Caleb, looking him up and down with wide eyes.

"Oh yeah, I forgot we had another tribute," Caleb commented, as if Mally were just another one of the Avoxes on the carriage. "What's her name again?"

"There's no we! If you're going to stick around, you can't help or get in the way," Corvelle scolded Zion's brother, as she folded her arms and looked at Mally. "And this is Mally; learn some fucking manners."

"Fine, fine," Caleb huffed, shaking his head incredulously.

"Is anyone going to answer my question?" Mally repeated herself, glaring at all of them. "What the hell is going on?"

From what Zion could tell, Mally was rather a rather impudent girl, based on the few interactions he had already had with her. Although they had only shared a few words thus far, she had reacted with hostility each time, seeming to possess a considerable amount of distrust for Zion - which he supposed was fair. You should never be too trusting in the Hunger Games.

However, most of the time, she had really just come across as unnecessarily rude, even to Isadora and Corvelle in the brief moments they have conversed. He knew she was young, and was likely troubled by her new situation, but something told him her attitude ran far deeper than just stress from being reaped.

"Just a family reunion," Caleb informed Mally, as he lightly punched Zion in the arm, causing him to rock slightly.

"That's a generous way of putting it," Zion admitted, causing Caleb to narrow his eyes at Zion.

"Now, now, little brother. Keep that cheek for the other tributes," he advised Zion, who stared back at him with a straight face.

"Why the hell is he here?" Mally complained, pointing at Caleb as if he couldn't hear her. "This is an unfair advantage!"

"Don't worry Mally, we're not letting him have any input," Corvelle reassured her, as she gave a side-eye to Caleb. "He'll be on his way once we get to the Capitol."

"I'm afraid I can't allow that," Caleb argued. "If Zion's making stupid decisions, I've got to be here to tell him he's a fucking idiot. Mark my words, I will set him on the path to victory, a Whitlock is winning another one of these games."

"This is bullshit! So I'm just going to be tossed to the side huh!?" Mally shouted, balling her fists furiously.

"Don't listen to him Mally, both Zion and yourself will only be getting help from us," Isadora promised the hysterical girl, causing Mally to narrow her eyes venomously at the Escort, with a look of pure, undeniable hatred.

"Shut up bitch, I wasn't talking to you," Mally sneered, causing Isadora's head to recoil slightly in surprise.

"What the hell did I do?" She questioned, as Mally turned her full attention to her.

"You got me into this mess by picking out my name! I don't want your help," Mally hissed, before turning on her heel and storming back towards her room.

"She can't be serious," Isadora scoffed, as Corvelle collapsed onto a chair, groaning in frustration.

"This is already a disaster," Corvelle moaned from between her fingers.

"I beg to differ, this is going to be fun," Caleb smirked dangerously, as he stroked his chin, enjoying the drama.

Zion on the other hand, had different thoughts entirely from his brother, and was much more in agreement with Corvelle. They hadn't even made it out of District 6 yet, and already there were tensions running high, there was an unwanted guest in the form of his asshole brother, and Corvelle already seemed to be on the edge of a meltdown.

Despite all of the issues however, Zion had to maintain a calm head. He couldn't allow himself to be distracted, or thrown off the path he had set out to follow. He had come so far on his journey of redemption, that if he allowed himself to fall now, he worried that he may never be able to climb back out of it.

I just need to remember who I am now, Zion reminded himself, as his eyes lowered uncertainly to the floor. I will not be consumed by who I used to be.


Author's Note:

And that's a wrap on the first half of the Train Rides! I think I've gotten this one out a little bit quicker this time around which has been really nice, I believe it's been due to the change of pace with all of the interactions I've been able to write here, it was a lot of fun. I have been trying to juggle my time well enough to make progress, and I'm pretty happy with how I've managed that. Life has been pretty eventful recently, and to follow up on my previous author's note, I did in fact receive that promotion which is very exciting. I start at the beginning of next month, so fingers crossed it doesn't eat too much more into my time!

Now onto the chapter content. Today we were introduced to another four tributes, those being Inessa Gaibannes, Taro McNeal, Asa Kosgrov (hello again Asa), and Zion Whitlock. These were all fun tributes to explore, with quite a bit going on in terms of new interactions. Thank you especially to livinginadream0, VeryNewToThis, amadeussss9, and The Pocketwatch Ripper for providing Nes, Taro, Asa and Zion respectively, they were all a joy to write for! I'd love to hear all of your thoughts on your tributes, as well as everyone else's opinions on the newest additions to the introductions.

That brings us to the end of the chapter, and now we're looking towards the next one! By process of elimination, I think it's pretty apparent who will be the final four features of our introductions as Chapter 10 carries into the night on the train, as well as the morning. Coming up, will be Yeon Ha-Sun, Mila Harlen, Ritva Zelenka, and Pippin Embree. I'm definitely excited to introduce these four! An additional word of note, I'll be giving a breakdown next chapter of what the chapter structure will look like for the Capitol Phase to give a good idea of what the timeline will be. I think I'll also be making a poll for people to vote who their favourite tributes are, which I will reveal the results of within the following chapter. That will be opening for voting once the next chapter is released, so I encourage everyone - submitters and readers alike - to contribute! I'd love to see the general consensus of where these tributes stand to most.

~Reign