Thanks to Lisan al Gaib, Tales From the Cluttered Desk, maitaitiu, Dante Aleghieri1308, yoyowhitehole, Grim Apocrypha, Very New To This, Skeekiest, and Stargirl94 for the reviews! Apologies for the delay in this chapter. Between my own life, gearing up for uni again, and helping a friend w/ another project I've had to considerably slow my roll when it comes to writing.
Also some clarity for our more eagle-eyed readers - you'll notice Kairos told Hyperion he was reaped 'like the rest of us' in the last chapter. Kairos was not in fact reaped. Full honesty that was a minor error on my part, but upon going back to re-read it I'm deciding to leave it in and resolve that minor point in this chapter!
This will end our first round of POVs! We have 5 chapters to go until Bloodbath - another 4 with 6 POVs each, and then the training scores chapter to be delivered from a Gamemaker POV.
Enjoy!
Avalon Imperio, District One.
So far, Avalon's sleuthing had provided nothing of use.
All she could say was that they'd spotted Hyperion at the library. Oh, so he liked to read! Well they might as well just throw him out in that case, right, because that had to mean that he was plotting something big. Yeah, as if that would hold up.
She just couldn't shake the feeling that something was fishy, though. The circumstances were too peculiar. She'd known Lucius, back at One's Academy. She hadn't particularly liked him. He'd been arrogant, callous, and entirely too prideful in almost every interaction she'd had with him. But that only served to make the situation even more strange.
What could have caused someone like THAT - someone so blinded by his own ego and desire for victory that he often neglected what was right in front of him - to withdraw from the Games, leaving Hyperion in his place?
It had to be something big. A deep personal grudge made the most sense. Lucius had gained a fresh scar about a week before the Reaping date. Avalon was currently toying with the possibility that Hyperion could have had something to do with it. But why? Something was telling her that it wasn't because he'd wanted to volunteer himself. If that was the case, he wouldn't have looked so shocked when his name had been called - and he would have told her to clear his goddamn name and slot himself into the Pack.
So obviously there was something going on there. Something he hadn't felt like sharing. Whether it was entirely innocent and circumstantial or if there was something to hide, it didn't matter anymore - Avalon was already growing suspicious. Right now, he seemed like a wild card.
Wild cards could be fun! Spicing things up wasn't a crime. But they were only fun when they could be handled. An uppity outlier biting off more than they could chew was fun. A surprise event that thinned the competition was fun. A trained Academy student whose sword was not pledged to the alliance..? That was decidedly not fun.
Avalon was confident that she'd be able to figure everything out if she had the time. But therein lies the issue. Time was quickly running out. The second day of training had just begun, and Hyperion was stuck like glue to the group. For someone who didn't seem eager to genuinely engage with the others, he sure kept himself close.
But, even he was a secondary concern right now. What mattered most was her positioning. Getting herself in close with the others. Situating herself as someone the group couldn't afford to lose.
"Another weapons day?" Avalon speaks to the group at large, raising her arms over her head and folding them behind her back. It felt good to stretch, coiled muscle loosening in preparation for what was sure to be another rigorous day. "Why don't you try to take me on in melee this time, Youssef? Make it even and both use swords?"
Their 'captain' hadn't really fought with any of them yesterday, only electing to brush up on some basic pattern dances from his home District before supervising the rest of the bouts. Avalon wasn't the biggest fan of that - because she wanted to know what he could do. Off of vibes alone, he was the most physically imposing out of this year's batch of 24. Finding out how capable he could be was not something she wanted to leave until the last minute.
"Hm. I'll humor it. I'm just a bit rusty, though. Didn't often use swords in the Peacekeeper Corps. Go easy on me?"
"Not a chance!" Avalon scoffs, forcing a playful smile to tug upwards on her lips. Rusty? Not a chance. Just accept the offer.
"That's what I like to hear." Youssef nods. "Anyone else fancy a go? I'll stick to the sword."
"Oh, you fucking bet I do." Gulf speaks up, fire sparking to life in his eyes. "Winner gets to lead. Deal?"
"No deal."
"We'll decide when someone's won."
And, there they went again - but hey, she'd started off a nice little chain reaction. Build some tension among the others, direct any of that hatred away from her. With personalities as strong as those two in the group... she wouldn't have to worry about being the first victim of a betrayal. And that was a security that was priceless.
"Maybe we can have another little vote. Would any of you vote for Gulf is we re-did things?" Avalon prompts, and is wholly unsurprised to see that a whopping 0 hands shoot up. Well, 1 hand - but it's from Gulf himself.
"You're all idiots." Gulf scoffs.
"So you're the only one who's right, and everyone else just doesn't know what they're talking about?" His partner smirks, and Gulf flips her his middle finger.
"You're finally starting to catch on, Kiki."
"Oh, don't start with the 'Kiki' shit."
"I kinda like Kiki." Avalon chimes in once more, earning an exasperated sigh from Kiana and a triumphant laugh from her partner.
"Kiki's cute." A whispery voice chimes in, which only causes Gulf to laugh more.
"Even Lethe agrees! See? I've got good ideas."
"Alright, alright, enough of the 'Kiki' discourse - though even I have to admit I'm a little fond of it." Youssef shakes his head, and Gulf fist-pumps to himself in the background. "Before we head to spar, I've decided to conduct a second round of our survey. We've had a day to check things out - how are our opinions changed? Threat levels? Anyone we need to keep more of an eye on?"
"Eleven's been hanging around the weapons." Avalon takes center stage. "The boy, anyways - though the girl's still muscled enough to at least keep an eye on. But I've been watching him swing sickles and scythes around out of the corner of my eye. He's actually not half bad - which, you know, means we have to kill him."
"Agreed on that." Kiana nods. "He'd be my number one. Outside of that..? I think Twelve's moved down my list, and Six had moved up. The girl looked like she had resolve, but I've only really seen her over in the cluster of survival booths. Six, on the other hand, is practicing weapons as we speak - first time I've seen him do it, but look. He fights like a showman. Skilled with his little knives, but too flashy to be effective. Still, with the audience's eyes on him, I think he'll garner enough support to warrant killing him early."
"Fair on that. Eleven and Six will be top priority. Anyone else?" Youssef's eyes sweep the group.
"Outside of your bunch, I'm not too fond a' Seven. They're stuck together and there's always the chance they're handy with axes. Haven't shown much, but they're both in good enough shape to warrant watching out." Gulf crosses his arms, eyes searching for the pair - but they seem to have already ducked off to some corner somewhere.
"Ten." Lethe mutters, pale blue eyes flickering across the others. "She's been watching us. She thinks we haven't noticed."
Everyone had gone - except one.
An idea dawns upon Avalon.
"What about you, Hyperion?" She turns suddenly to her silent partner, earning only the raise of his eyebrow as a reaction. "Who've you got your eye on?"
"Nobody in particular. You've already cleared all the major threats. It's a good list."
"Really?" A Cheshire grin spreads across Avalon's face. "Then Five is handled, right? I mean, you seemed to have really scared him yesterday. Is there beef there? Maybe he'll be an easy mark for you?"
Hyperion hides the flicker of uncertainty in his eyes well - if it was anyone else, that minor cue wouldn't have registered. To most of her allies, it didn't.
But Avalon wasn't 'anyone else.' One's volunteer process was rigorous. It demanded perfect understanding of emotions and how to spot a lie. A good eye was needed to rise from the squabbling, and Avalon had stolen many a vote simply by bringing to light just how unsure some of her competitors were. In the end, it had been a landslide - 55% of the vote had gone to her and her alone, with the second place finisher raking in a measly 23% for herself.
Something was up. She didn't know what.
Lethe had led her to the library - now it was up to Avalon to unravel this issue before the clock ran out.
Rhea Clement, District Ten.
Finally, she'd managed to slip away from Eight's little priss. And Rhea had thought Jenny was bad back home - those two would have been a platonic match made in heaven, both so airheaded that she was surprised they hadn't begun to float away.
But, then again, it was good to have such easily swayed people around you. Especially now, with the Games just days away from starting. A meat-shield or three meant one less competitor in the long run, and also kept Rhea out of a lot of danger in the short term. Talk about two birds with one stone!
By now, she'd covered most of what she wanted. Efficiency was the name of the game, and there were few who were more efficient in their daily activities than Rhea Clement. She'd practiced a bit with some knives, looking to shore up her weakness in the melee department. Nobody had seen her throw, yet, though - and she intended to keep it that way. There were much more threatening tributes than her as of right now.
Fire-starting and general survival skills had also been helpful. It always baffled Rhea to find out that some people simply elected to neglect them, what with the frequency of natural terrain arenas and all. It was more useful to know and have it not matter than to not know when it did matter. That being said, for someone with her composure and her general ability, it didn't take long to memorize most of the important edible plants and learn how to spark a fire.
Really, she'd wrapped up a lot of what she wanted to do - and that left the absolute best part for last.
People watching!
Rhea had mapped out her route early this morning, and had made the climb soon after. Perched just beyond the agility-testing obstacle course was a large, man-made plateau of sorts. She couldn't tell if it was meant to be inaccessible. There seemed to be a wall blocking the flat surface, but nobody had scolded her when she'd attempted to climb up. Perhaps it was an intentional hiding spot - somewhere to survey the area unseen. Whoever's idea that was, they'd need a raise. She liked the way they thought.
It adds to the belief that this little perch is intentional when she finds that she's able to see... everything. Placed in the back corner of the massive gymnasium, she's at an angle where very little is hidden from her. And, tucked into her shirt, is a small notebook and a pen. It was time for some revision!
The boy with the scars had put on a show with his knives earlier. He was flashy, but he was good. Don't mess with him.
Ariadne's partner (along with Vivienne's) seemed to have teamed up - but neither of them were that impressive. They could stay where they were.
Eleven doesn't appear to want to spend any time together. He's off swinging some big weapon and she's with the boy from Five. Are they allied? That's curious. District Five Male should be moved up to 'potential hazard.'
Rhea scribbles, crossing out words and writing small symbols next to them, faces flying through her mind. Generally, that was how she recognized them. The only three names she knew were Ariadne, Vivienne, and of course her placid little mouse of a District partner in Fraser. He would be staying right where she'd first put him. Easy pickings.
That's day 2's list started! How did things currently stack up?
Easy: 3M, 5F, 8M, 8F, 9F, 10M, 12M.
?: 3F, 5M, 6F, 7M, 7F, 9M, 12F.
Do not fuck with: 1M, 1F, 2M, 2F, 4M, 4F, 6M, 11M, 11F.
Not great, honestly. Of course, having 6 Careers involved sort of tipped the scales - but three were at least three others who seemed capable enough to be of worry, and some of the question marks gave Rhea pause, as well. The girl from Twelve had been strange. She'd seemed like she really wasn't all there in the worst possible way, but she was still from Twelve. In all likelihood, nature would take its course and she'd die before she ever got to make anything of herself.
Speaking of those Careers - what were they up to now? They always made for the most entertaining show when she'd watched back home - and it was usually the same here. The glances she'd been sneaking throughout yesterday's session had showed her some interesting facets to the group.
The boy from Two was their leader. Predictable, but still good to know. What intrigued her more was that he, like her, preferred the throwing dagger to any sort of melee combat! He'd fought for the first time earlier today with a sword in his hand - and had still been incredibly capable - but she'd watched him yesterday, too, from the corner of her eye as he nailed bullseye after bullseye with ease.
The pair from Four both favored spears, but in wildly different manners. The raucous, aggressive boy from Four fought like an entirely different person - cautious and waiting for the opportunity to dart his spear into his opponent's weak spot. The girl was much more flamboyant, the opposite of her seemingly calmer demeanor. They fought often, though - neither of them seemed willing to back down when challenged. Quite interesting.
One was beautiful, as per usual. They were always the most interesting. Beautiful and charming and absolutely deadly when it came down to it. Rhea noticed a particular trend over the years. The continued underestimation of One's girl, year in and year out. The fact that she was beautiful and bubbly and cracked jokes seemed to erase from the minds of the others the fact that she'd trained just as long and hard as the rest - and often, it ended up getting people killed. What was the saying, about the prettiest roses often holding the sharpest thorns?
Oh - right, speaking of beauty... the girl from Two, the leader's partner, possessed the quality she admired most. Absolute deference. She'd never once seen the girl from Two speak out of line, or act out of order. It was as if she viewed herself as less important. Secondary to those around her. Rhea could work with that. It helped that she wasn't too hard on the eyes, either. Sure, she was no Brielle, but Brielle wasn't here. She could wait until Rhea was back.
Until then, Two would do. She didn't know how she'd make it happen. But one thing was for certain.
When Rhea Clement wanted something, she got it. Always.
Acacia Letterfield, District Seven.
Like it or not, Acacia was going to have to step foot into the weapons station eventually.
It was really just a matter of time - she wanted to brush up a little, and the private sessions weren't for practice. They were meant to display the fruits of your efforts. Otherwise, they may as well just axe them all together and give them 3 days total.
So, it just came down to picking the most opportune moment. Which, finally, seemed to be right now. The imposing group of 6 that usually hung around had finally wandered off somewhere to do something besides spar and smile for the cameras. The shift in the gymnasium was noticeable. Many tributes still stayed put - but a fair few noticed the Career absence and trickled in, testing their luck with various sharp objects or trying (and mostly failing) to land hits on targets from a distance.
Acacia couldn't blame them. Matter of fact, it gave her a healthier respect for a lot of her competition. She could see within them the same desire for survival that was in herself. The desperation in every swing of the blade and the look in the eyes of those who wanted more for themselves.
She could relate. To wanting more. To taking the chances that life gave her. To making something out of nothing and coming out stronger on the other side. That was what made people human, was it not? Carving their own path, making their own choices - it was all a part of the experience.
And nothing could ever take that away from her.
A couple of those she'd picked out earlier were coming towards them. Currently, Acacia and Ronan sat in the furthest possible lane of the target-practice range. Each held a hatchet in their hands, which Acacia assumes is a part of the reason why they were suddenly being approached. Everyone wants a 7 with an axe, right? If only they knew that she'd never worked a lumber-yard shift a day in her life.
Her talents were much more suited to escape. Her use of the grappling hook-esque Aklys that had helped her scale so many trees and the agility it took to scamper up. The core power it took to hold yourself at an odd angle for what often felt like hours while you hacked at a branch that was just too stubborn to come off. It would be unexpected. Unorthodox, for a District that usually chose to wield the axe. And that would help her.
Unfortunately, though, there were none offered in the gymnasium. The obviously wealthy individual who oversaw this portion of the training center had obviously never had a day of hard, manual labor in his life. Soft hands, or however the saying went.
So, here she sat with her hatchet, chucking it at a target and praying for the best. Thankfully, Ronan did have some experience with axes - along with many other things that she found mildly surprising. His proficiency with traps, for instance, had both impressed and concerned her, because why would he need to know all of that? When pressed on it, he seemed hesitant to dive into further detail, too.
The approaching pair didn't actually speak right away. It was a pair of boys, one curly-haired and pale and the other tan-skinned with dark, straight hair and a patchy beard. None of them looked particularly capable - but it left Acacia surprised to see the paler boy pick up a bow and actually manage to nock an arrow without skewering himself or his friend.
Of course, his aim wasn't particularly impressive - but it had been enough to draw attention, and he'd caught her glancing over and oh boy it was about to begin. One twang of the bowstring and mediocre shot later, a voice calls out to the Sevens.
"Hey." It's the curly-haired one. He sounds a bit hesitant, his eyes shifting between Acacia, and then Ronan, and then the floor.
"Uh... hey."
Her tone is flat and she lets her awkward greeting hang in the air. Acacia isn't quite so keen to connect with this pair as she had been with Ronan. He projected a lot more strength. Honestly, she'd been hesitant about taking on allies to begin with. If her partner had been a dud, she probably would have just gone it alone like she'd always done.
"You're pretty good with the axes." The boy pauses. "I can, uh, shoot my bow pretty well, and I'm teaching him right now." Curly-head gestures to his twitchy friend, who seems to be on the verge of a nervous breakdown simply just as a result of being in same airspace as the pair from Seven.
Pretty well? Acacia thinks to herself, glancing towards the target. Not a single arrow had struck the center. It was fine for a stationary target, but what about when someone was running right at him?
"We've been looking for more people to team up with.." Curly-head ventures, taking a half-step forward. "It was Merlino's idea, actually." He gestures towards his friend. "Thought the both of you looked capable, and you didn't seem like you'd gone and grouped up with any of the others, so we figured we might ask."
Not interested. Sorry.
That's what she'd like to say, anyways - but something catches her. Holds her tongue and makes her think. She can't quite place it. Realistically, they offer very little - but something about turning such an earnest offer away doesn't sit right with her.
Would I still be me, if I said no? Would turning them away mean that I've already begun to discard my humanity? My connection to others?
The thought makes Acacia shudder a bit. She hadn't even stepped foot into the arena yet, and the dilemma she faced was already terrifying. To turn them away might as well be condemning them to death, no? Could she live with herself, day in and day out, if she did?
Acacia didn't think so.
Clearly, Ronan must be in the same boat, because neither of them muster anything besides some awkward eye contact, both kind of hoping the other would speak first. Ronan seems just a bit more determined to remain silent, though, so Acacia ends up answering after many tense moments.
"...I don't know." She answers honestly, truthfully, as one should in situations as serious as these. "I'm nervous about taking on any more allies." She wanted to fight. To win. And to win, everyone in this little circle but her would have to be dead. The logical part of her told her that the smaller the group, the better. If it was just her and Ronan, chances are she wouldn't have to take him out in the end - something else would do it first. But with more people came the larger possibility that she would have to dirty her hands.
But on the flip side, to think like that was to think of these people as no more than obstacles. To dehumanize them as nothing more than numbers, steps closer to her own freedom. And that sickened her just a bit more. She wouldn't be able to put it off like she would with the alternative.
"We won't get in your way, promise! 'Lino here's a whizz with machines. If there's anything mechanical at all he'll get it up and running for us. He's good with ropes and wires, too, really! And he's taught me some basic snares and I can shoot my bow, and I went through the troubles of learning some plants, too, so we really should be good! Lots to bring to the table."
To her left, Ronan cracks a smile at the curly-haired boy's ramblings.
"Ropes, huh? Me too. Maybe we can swap some tips."
Acacia glances at Ronan, and he meets her eyes. The slight shrug of his shoulders is enough to secure the decision for her - why not give it a shot for now?
"Does this mean we're set?" The boy sticks out his hand.
"It means we can sit together at lunch, and we'll see from there." Acacia gently pushes it down.
"Oh - uh, alright." The boy's voice stiffens for a second, but whatever was troubling him seemed to disappear quickly. "I'm Alt, by the way."
"Acacia."
"Ronan." Her partner adds.
"Alright! And, well, you know Merlino now, too. So, uh... see you at lunchtime?"
"Gotcha." Acacia nods, holding a straight face until the pair wanders away, talking amongst themselves.
Once they're gone, she turns to Ronan.
"What do you think?" She prompts, and he gives another small shrug.
"Strange pair. But I guess this place'll make you act strange, too, so I can't blame 'em too much. I say we give it a shot. If anything, we can always..." Ronan pauses, seemingly trying to figure out the best way to phrase his next words. "...strike out on our own."
Acacia sighs. That's what she'd been afraid of hearing - but it was the best compromise to her internal conflicts. Give it a chance - but don't let it get you killed.
"...Right. You're right. I'm sure they'll be pleased to hear it, then."
She'd committed to the idea. Now, all that was left was to hope that she wouldn't regret it.
Fox St. Aubin, District Twelve.
"It wahsh rheal guysh, I promish. It wash the shame ghoshts that attacked me in the mines!"
Fox speaks through a mouth positively chock full of at least 7 different kinds of foods.
"Repeat, kiddo. Couldn't hear you over the lamb. Or the beef. Or the plums, the rice, and the meringue cake." Gerald cracks, though Fox thinks he doesn't have much room to talk. Sure, he had four or five plates piled up in front of him - but Gerald had three, and that was pretty dang close to four.
Fox doesn't take his time chewing, downing a glass of some sweet, green, fizzy liquid in what has to be record time
"The ghosts! From last night. I always used to tell my friends that they were real. In fact, I definitely saw some the day before the Reaping."
"What?" Gerald leans forward, a challenge in his eyes. "No way. Ghosts aren't real!"
"Are too!" Fox shoots back. "Me and my friends were exploring one of Twelve's abandoned mines and we saw them!"
Actually, it had just been Peacekeepers. That time. But what about all the other times some stones had mysteriously fallen, or when they'd heard footsteps further in but hadn't actually seen anybody? They were real!
"I bet they followed me here." Fox crosses his arms with triumphant glee and the overwhelming certainty that he's correct. "Maybe they actually want to help!"
"Yeah, fat chance." Gerald scoffs. "There was nothing 'helpful' about last night. Ghastly experience, actually. Get it? Ghastly, like, ghosts."
Fox blinks for a second, eyes wide with confusion before it clicks! Oh! That was funny! He bursts into laughter, doing his best not to spit out his food as the fit of giggles overtakes him.
Honestly, last night had been scary - scarier than the Peacekeepers back home, scarier than when he'd sworn he'd seen some disembodied spirit floating about in Twelve's caves. It was probably at least top-three most traumatizing experiences in his lifetime, but if there was one thing Fox could do it was persevere through the pain. The world would try to kick him down, but who would he be if he didn't get right back up with a smile on his face? He couldn't protect his friends and his sister if he was all mopey all the time.
And, in a weird way, that's what kept him going here, too. Gerald and Melisa had become fast friends. People he valued and truly cared about. Gerald seemed fine, but Melisa... she'd barely spoken the whole day, and it was starting to worry Fox. The bags under her eyes were more prominent that he'd ever seen them, and she just seemed generally unfocused - always asking Fox to repeat what he'd said or seemingly unable to pick up on Gerald's constant puns and double-meanings.
So he had to keep positive! For her, to let her know that he was okay! That was the least he could do, after she'd gone through all the effort of protecting him.
"Well.. now we know, I guess. Staying out is bad. That's what the ladies at the community home used to say, too. Never stay out too late!"
Fox notices the concern in both Melisa and Gerald's eyes - they always got that way when he mentioned the Community Home, so he tried to do it as little as possible. But, well, he'd lived there for a while, so it was kind of hard to talk about life without bringing it up.
"Yeah.." Melisa rubs their tired eyes, stifling a yawn. "No more... late movie nights."
"That movie sucked anyways! It was stupid." Fox chirps insightfully.
"Hey, I didn't think it was half bad." Gerald shrugs. "But yeah, yeah, no more. I've had enough of... that... for the rest of my life."
On that, they could definitely agree.
"I'm gonna get some more water." Melisa states plainly, moving languidly to stand up from her chair. She doesn't make it far before Fox stops her.
"Let me! You helped me, so I want to help you." Fox notices the hesitance in their eyes, and pushes a bit further. "Please?"
"..Alright. Thank you, Fox."
With a big grin on his face and relief in his heart, Fox hurries off back towards the service counter, feeling as if he's repaid his colossal debt to Melisa just the tiniest bit. Really, he doesn't know what would have happened without her there. Her quick thinking and desire to keep him and Gerald safe had ultimately saved the trio. The least he could do was get her something to drink! Wow, he'd been doing the 'least he could do' a lot lately.
Trotting towards the counter, Fox waves down a server adorned in a golden, bejeweled hairnet. Weird.
"Hi! Do you have any water that can wake someone up?"
"Ah, you mean coffee? The most refined of beverages."
"What's coffee? She wants water." Fox stares blankly ahead, unable to pick up on the subtle twitch of annoyance in the Capitolite's eye.
"...I see, but, I think whoever 'she' is may enjoy coffee more, if she wants to wake up. The coffee bean, you see, is ground up, and is then passed through with hot water to-"
Water! So it had water in it? That had to be close, right?
"Oh, sure!" Fox interrupts the speech before it can begin, the worker behind the counter clenching their teeth in frustration. "Coffee works then!"
"Coming right up." The words are spoken through gritted teeth, and in another minute Fox holds a small, steaming teacup in his hands, filled with a strange-smelling brown liquid.
That didn't really look like water at all, but who was he to doubt the expertise of the golden hairnet? Besides, maybe it would be better, and Melisa would be super-duper thankful. That would be good!
The walk back to the table is much slower than the walk towards the service counter, all in an effort to not spill the steaming liquid all over the floor. Even Fox had been taught not to run with anything hot or sharp in his hands - not that he always followed the rules, but he didn't want to spill Melisa's drink.
It was strange, the wide berth that they'd been given by the others. Every single table around the one occupied by Fox and his friends was empty. As if people were afraid to be too close.
Fox was not oblivious to the truth. Deep down in his heart, he knew that he was the reason. Everyone here was so, so much older than him. It was honestly kind of isolating, having nobody his age around. He was undoubtedly the weakest link. They all saw it, and treated him accordingly. It made him sad, sure, but he couldn't really blame them.
That's why he appreciated the pair from Nine so much. They'd looked past his age and taken him in anyways, doing their best to make him feel welcomed and comfortable in such an otherwise incredibly stressful time. He honestly doesn't know where he'd be without them. Doesn't know how he'd be doing if they hadn't walked into his life. Fox had beared many a burden in his life - but he'd never done it entirely alone. He was thankful that he didn't have to start now.
Plus, they'd been so great to him! Melisa was so caring and gentle and kind, and Gerald was fun and loud and always had a joke to lighten the mood. They were great, and Fox couldn't ask for anything more.
When he thought of his friends, they were there now, too. Oliver and Gage and Penny and Arianne were accompanied by two more smiling faces on the list of Fox's absolute favorite people.
Finally reaching the table, Fox places the small cup down in front of Melisa, absolutely beaming.
"The guy at the counter said it was made with water, and it'll wake you up!
Melisa gives a small smile, and takes a sip. Her face screws up, and for a moment Fox is worried that he's given her something absolutely horrid - but soon it mellows out, and in a couple of seconds Melisa is blinking rapidly, a bit of life returning to their face.
"Is it good?" Fox asks, eager to hear the answer.
"No." Melisa sighs, and Fox's smile drops slightly. "But.." She adds, and Fox perks back up. "It's strong. Already kicked me awake a little bit. Thank you, Fox."
"Of course! Glad to help!"
Man, it felt good to help the people he loved.
Kairos Fomalhaut, District Five.
"Aaaaaany minute now."
Kairos could tell that Melora was getting a bit antsy. He understood completely, honestly - there weren't many places to hold a 'top secret meeting' in the gymnasium, but he'd set himself a deadline and would be damned if he were to miss it. It would have been nice to slink off to one of the open leisure facilities after training, but then any one of the other 18 people could just... walk in. And if it was someone dangerous? Someone who mattered? The whole thing would go up in smoke.
He figured that might happen here, too - they were, after all, all in the same massive room. But they were occupied, too. Everyone was busy forging their own alliances or learning the skills they'd need to save their own lives. They had things to focus on, and the chance of them just wandering in was ironically lower than it would have been if they'd found some secret room.
A late night meeting would have been ideal, too, but that had been nipped in the bud with the curfew. Technically it wasn't enforced, but Kairos was smart enough to assume that the slimeball running this show wouldn't have teased something like that without reason. He can almost imagine the crap-eating grin on the face of the Head Gamemaker. It's a thought that brings Kairos a rare moment of anger.
He'd thought about having it in his room - late at night, but well before the curfew - but for the more... conspicuous of his group, that would still be an issue. Hyperion, for example - if he showed up, he'd have to slip past his partner and her little friend, both of whom had been watching.
Kairos had taken plenty of time to think this over his very first night on the train - so much so that he didn't even sleep.
Well, that was normal, though - Kairos rarely slept. It had never come easy to him. People like Tobias would basically just power off early into the night and lay still until the sun came up the next day. He'd tried to do the same for years. Many of those sleepless nights were spent in despondent solitude, a young Kairos able to comprehend why everything and everyone but himself seemed to stop for the night.
It's what had gotten him so into reading, actually - with all that time, books and words and stories became his best friends in the whole wide world (don't tell Tobias or the rest back at the Inn). It had opened up worlds of imagination that even he would never have dreamed of.
But enough with all the flashback exposition sappy shit - people were starting to wander in!
First is Blitz and who Kairos thinks is the boy from Ten. Both seem to stick closer together, eyeing Kairos and Melora with a hint of caution before wandering off to the side. Honestly, Kairos hadn't glimpsed much potential from him on first glance - but hey, that's why another pair of eyes was always helpful. Someone like Blitz was much more focused on the small, little details that big-thinkers like Kairos tended to brush over.
"Ten was her choice?" Melora cocks an eyebrow, a hint of surprise in her voice. "Wouldn't have guessed."
"Same here. If I was a betting man, I'd have just gone broke." Kairos gives a shrug. "But I trust her intuition, for what that's worth."
"You do you." Melora shrugs. "We'll figure out what he's about."
"Mhm." Kairos nods, but he's not able to fully focus on Melora right now. His neck is craning and his eyes are wide, searching for the dark curls and lean frame that he was hoping to see.
Could that be..? No, that was the boy from Nine, making his hands look like the wings of a bird. Funny, but not what he wanted to see. Another mop of brown curls - him? No, no, that was the kid from Three rushing back to the archery station for what seemed like the fourth time today. Geez, there were a lot of people with brown, curly hair this year. Though Kairos wasn't really one to talk, considering he had it, too.
The passing minutes feel like their own separate eternities, Kairos growing just a bit antsier with every tick of the clock. Four people would not accomplish what he was setting out to do. They needed a full group, and-
Oh, thank everything, he'd shown up.
Abruptly and casting a furtive glance at the space around him, Hyperion wanders in, tensed up and looking almost like a cat ready to pounce. He was on edge - that made sense, Kairos figured. He was surrounded by people who wanted him dead.
Case in point, Melora's eyes narrow as she spots the boy from One, her lip drawing upwards in a snarl that honestly makes her look rather frightening when paired with the muscle she'd packed on. It was a look he didn't see often, and the fact that Hyperion drew it out of her worried him slightly.
"So you actually got him to show up." Melora's voice is flat and intense, her eyes burning with thinly veiled disgust. With seemingly great effort, she tears her white-hot gaze off of the boy from One and meets Kairos's eyes.
"You'd better be right about him, Fomalhaut."
There's no 'or else' or any threat - Melora had never seemed like the type to make those threats unprompted - but Kairos is still keen to remember their last talk about him. It had been made clear that if there was a problem, Kairos would have consequences to face. A lot was riding on Hyperion's cooperation.
"Hey, Hype!" Kairos calls out, waving lazily as the One boy glances up. Fraser and Blitz look positively flabbergasted at the One boy's arrival - afraid, even, as if they'd been found out. Huh. Well, given the circumstances, that felt like a reasonable assumption. Maybe he should have told Blitz what he'd had planned, too. Ah, well, too late for that.
"Don't worry!" He speaks to them right after, hushing himself a bit. "He was invited."
"'He' also told you not to call him Hype." Hyperion's tone is short. He's nervous. He hides it well, but not well enough to go unnoticed.
"And he was also late, so I'll call him what I like for the day." Kairos quips back, plastering the smuggest of smiles on his face.
"You try sneaking off with five pairs of eyes watching your every move." Hyperion huffs, crossing his arms. "Trained eyes, mind you - I swear, that Lethe from Two doesn't blink."
"Touché, Touché." Kairos raises his hands, palms out as he concedes the point. "Thank you for showing up."
"How could I not? I had to set the record straight. You lied to me yesterday, and quite frankly you're lucky I was too stunned by your impetuousness to call you out."
"Whaddya mean?" Kairos questions, knowing precisely what Hyperion was talking about.
"You volunteered - I remember it. I'd be a fool not to. But you told me that I was reaped, 'just like you and everyone else. Explain it."
"Ohhhhh, that." Kairos feigns recognition, like he'd just barely recalled the information and it had dawned on him anew. "Yeah, total lie. I was shocked you didn't call me on it right there, but I kinda got swept up in my speech. And hey, the point still stands - I volunteered, but I'd be dead if I didn't. Wasn't really my choice, just like it wasn't yours to be here today. We are still in the same boat."
"I'll be the judge of who's in what boat after you fill me in." Hyperion sniffs, and Kairos once more is forced to concede that that is, indeed, fair.
Everyone would be filled in, soon - and that would alleviate a lot of the tension surrounding this group. Kairos had become the figurehead of sorts, making the calls and bringing the people together. Naturally, that turned into him being viewed as the 'leader' of this rag-tag bunch. Not exactly the spot he'd wanted, but if that was the position he had to fill, then so be it.
Melora had quickly become his second in command. The two often butted heads, but that's why Kairos valued her input so much. He knew he could be stupid and that his ideas could be out there. She did well to ground him and reign him back in when things got a little bit too outrageous. And, of course, she posed a very serious threat to anyone who got in her way. Those muscles weren't just for show.
Hyperion, obviously, was another way to augment the practical combat threat posed by the group. If he joined, he'd probably be the most capable of them all when it came to a straight up fight. And, like it or not, you didn't make it through the Hunger Games without winning a few fights. But there was more than that. Having him took one away from the Careers, and gave this little group some insider information. A valuable asset, to be sure.
Blitz was needed for her technical expertise. A specialist would be good - she seemed to have a generally high aptitude for anything electronic. And, more than that, Kairos wasn't so heartless as to just let her go off on her own. Not after he'd heard her story. Not after she'd cried and told him herself what exactly was riding on her here. He felt as if he owed it to her, really. If he hadn't volunteered, she'd still have her friend with her. Would that have been more cruel, or less?
Fraser... well, Kairos didn't actually know his deal quite yet. No time like the present to figure it out, though.
Hopping down from his little perch upon some storage crates, Kairos makes his way over to the pair himself. Both of them notice him long before he's actually closed the distance, and he flashes and awkward grin as he approaches. Hopefully that disarmed the pair a bit.
"Kai." Blitz nods as he draws closer, her eyes immediately flickering to the boy she'd brought with her. "This is Fraser. The one I told you about...?"
"I remember, don't worry. I just wanted to ask him something." Kairos nods, turning in Fraser's direction. "Heya. Name's Kairos. Call me Kai. Nice to meet ya', Fraser."
First things first - introductions! Before figuring out his whole deal, it would be nice to be on friendly terms with the guy.
"You too, Kai."
"Can't tell you how good it is to have people actually use the nickname. You see Melora up there? All business, all the time." Kairos speaks loudly and without care. "Always 'Kairos' or 'Fomalhaut' when she's mad at me."
"I can hear you, Fomalhaut."
"See what I mean?"
Kairos feels the tension evaporate ever so slightly as Fraser cracks a nervous grin - he'd probably get an earful about how he wasn't taking this seriously enough later, but for now, it had worked - the proverbial can had been opened, and now Kairos could take a crack at what he really wanted to know.
"So, Fraser - what made Blitz take an interest in you? I mean, like, I know she's got a good eye - so what'd you do to catch it?"
"Oh-" Fraser still appears put off by the question - there's no real good way to ask that, Kairos supposed - but he recovers quickly. "Well, she told me that my score on the edible plants memory test had drawn her to me originally. But I promise I'm more than just plants." Fraser gives a strained chuckle, before continuing. "I, uh, I actually know a bit about genetics. Dad worked in a lab. Took me with him every so often, and I learn quick."
Kairos's eyebrows raise and his mouth forms a little 'o' shape. Genetics? Oh, fuck yeah, he could work with THAT.
"Impressive. Well, welcome to the team, Fraser."
Kairos can sense the apprehension leaving Fraser's body as the words leave his mouth, and Kairos figure that's all he really has to say. Fraser's spot had been guaranteed the moment Blitz had vouched for him - but only Kairos and Melora had known that.
That left the last spot, though. Melora had talked about inviting the boy from Six... he should be arriving-
Ah, there he was! Those scars were unmistakable. He was sneaking over right now.
...Who was that to his left?
Kairos's heart drops. That wasn't the plan. There were only supposed to be 6 people - and there was a reason for that.
7 wouldn't do. They couldn't take on whoever this was. Or, if they could, someone else would have to drop to accommodate her.
A cold sweat breaks out on his brow, and he glances towards Melora, whose expression is unreadable.
They were going to have to make a cut.
Sterling Lee, District Six.
Sterling was feeling rather good as he left the lunch area, Mira by his side. He'd been approached yesterday by the imposing girl from Eleven, brusque and all business as she proposed an idea to him that he couldn't quite turn down. Sterling, of course, had said sure. It wasn't that he was particularly fond of the goal. In fact, he'd prefer to steer clear of the Careers - but such an easy in into what seemed to be a very structured group was too good an offer to pass up.
Of course, he'd made sure Mira could tag along, too. The girl - Melora, he'd learned her name was - had seemed apprehensive at first. But all it had really taken was for Sterling to make it clear that he'd only show up if Mira was able to come, and she'd relented. It had been a bit of a tense exchange, but that only served to cement the idea in his head that they really wanted him for whatever they had going on.
It brought a sense of comfort, really. There were limited slots for these sorts of things. The Career Pack only ever fielded 6 for a reason - and that reason wasn't just because of the close-knit culture that surrounded them. It had been a well documented pattern, and one Sterling's mentor had been sure to inform him of. It was a soft cap of sorts - if you went over you wouldn't be outright punished, but some extra mutts might happen to sniff out your camp. A nearby tree might mysteriously fall over, or some signal in the sky would detail your general location to a nearby adversary.
It was an unspoken rule, he'd been told - a soft cap of 6 people.
Lucky number 6, right? District 6, 6 people... maybe that was a good sign for the two of them.
He could definitely use the boost an alliance would give, as well.
Initially, he'd planned to put on the mask of a stoic badass who knew his way around the blade. He'd only have to keep up the act while he was on camera, so it wouldn't be that bad. That was, of course, until 'on camera' became 'all the time' under the new Head Gamemaker, because Sterling could just never have anything nice at all. He was certain they'd caught the gawking look on his face as the Careers had sparred, blowing any of his competitors back home out of the water with their skills.
Rounding the corner brings the pair right into the thick of things. Sterling spots Melora, who gives him a stiff nod. She seems on edge about something, though.
"Ohhhh my god." Mira hesitates, falling a few steps behind Sterling. "District One." She whispers, bristling like a frightened cat. "What in the hell is he doing here?"
Sterling, too, comes to a halt, immediately on high alert. Sure enough, off in his own little corner, arms crossed and a weary, almost bored look on his face, is the boy from One, seemingly not phased by the hostility surrounding him.
"Same as you." The boy shrugs, eyes falling over Sterling and Mira as if they're jewels to be appraised for worth. "I'm here for the lunatic's meeting."
He gestures to the curly-haired boy lounging atop some storage crates. The one who Melora seemed to stick by, arms crossed and jaw set. Both of them looked worried, and some of that had begun to pass on to Sterling. A tiny bit of fear began to worm its way into his heart, wriggling and writhing and causing sweat to bead up on his forehead.
He didn't know what was about to happen - but his intuition was telling him it wasn't good.
"Alright." The boy atop the crates calls, standing up and clapping his hands. "That's... everyone." He casts an unsure glance in Sterling and Mira's direction, and Sterling realizes why when he sees two other heads pop up, alerted by the voice atop the storage bins.
7 people.
One too many.
"My name is Kairos. Some of you have met me. Some haven't. In the interest of not being discovered, I'll keep this very, very brief. I've brought you all here to ask for an alliance. Something to contest the Career Pack and drive them out of the Cornucopia. Something organized and something real. It's a daunting mission - but if we succeed, one of us is set up for a chance to win. To go home."
Sterling feels the blood rush to his ears. It had been too good to be true, then. They wanted to directly confront the Careers...? But... the logic made sense. They didn't have to entirely wipe them out - just fight them off. Alone, it would have been unthinkable. Together..? Maybe possible.
"What about him?" Sterling is the first to speak up, pointing towards Hyperion. "He's one of them, is he not? Ones are good liars. What makes you think he isn't playing you right now?"
Kairos opens his mouth, but it's Hyperion who speaks.
"I understand your concerns." Hyperion sighs like someone who's tired of explaining himself. "But I didn't want to be here any more than you did. I know it isn't customary for the outer districts to study the recaps... but I didn't come here of my own free will. I was Reaped, same as you. And I don't want to be associated with a blood-thirsty pack of wolves, I can assure you of that."
"What he said." Kairos echoes. "And if I'm wrong and he does sell us out, you all just start running. Leave me for dead, if you have to - but I'm betting it all on this. Our plan hinges on him. Now, I understand it's dangerous. If any of you have heard this and want no part... you can leave. We'll form a non-aggression pact, you can go about your business alone or with others, and I'll thank you for your consideration regardless."
Sterling remains rooted in place, blood still pounding through his head. Shouldn't he go? This is dangerous - risky. But when had he not taken risks? Every day of his life, as far back as he could remember, he'd put his neck out there to provide for his family. Taken risks that no kid should have to take to make sure that he and his own could eat. To make sure that there was food on the table, because the people who were supposed to provide for him were too busy shooting up in their disgusting, putrid excuse of a bedroom to care.
The fire of anger, of spite, is rekindled in his stomach, warmth spreading throughout his body.
He would stay.
As would the others. Nobody moves.
Kairos sucks in a breath, clearly displeased.
"Ah, hell. I was hoping at least one of you would drop. We've got too many people, y'see. I.. wow, I really hate to do this, but..." Kairos glances to Melora, remorse filling his eyes. She gives him a solemn nod, and he sighs.
"Mira Andrelo." He points to Sterling's right, directly at his partner. "Apologies, but you weren't on our initial list. You.." Kairos pinches the bridge of his nose, sighing. "You can't be here. We won't go after you or anything - and if you want to take your partner with you, feel free. We'll fill in the gap somehow."
"Shit... I was really hoping we'd get in on something this good." Mira mutters, appearing crestfallen at Sterling's side.
Dakota's smiling face flashes in his mind.
Mira begins to turn slowly, walking away - years of playing cards had taught her when it was best to just fold and move on.
Come back to me, Sterling. Any cost, any means - come back.
Mira draws further away. Sterling remains rooted in place.
I'll be waiting for you, Sterling.
Mira turns back, eyes widening as she sees her partner rooted in place.
"Sterling..?" She questions, her voice wavering for the first time since he'd met her.
I'll be waiting for you... at home.
Only one made it home.
Sterling doesn't turn around to meet her eye - he can't bring himself to do it, because the tears welling in the corners of his eyes would spill over if he even thought about moving to meet the eyes of the girl he'd come to call a friend.
You have to do it, Lee.
It's Wes's voice this time.
Fight for yourself, first and foremost. Do what gives you the best chance.
That's what he would do.
The goodbye is more anticlimactic than he'd expected in these short few moments. Mira doesn't cry or scream or protest - she knows, processes, and moves on accordingly, turning away with a sad shake of the head and a defeated look on her face.
Not that Sterling sees, because he's still rooted in place, eyes hard and focused on Kairos Fomalhaut.
He was in.
Wow, what a way to end it. Big shifts in the alliance chart, it seems.
Hope this was worth the wait for you guys! It was a lot of fun to write. Guess what! I've officially started bloodbath planning. Isn't that fun? It actually isn't. I've grown quite attached to my cast and I really am going to be sad when they start dropping. That's not for 5 more chapters though so hooray for that!
What did you think of the chapter? Of the characters? Let me know, please!
Now for some extra info! I noticed I talked a bit about D1's volunteer process this chapter, but I think I've only ever shown my Career volunteer process write-ups on Discord. For added context, here they are, written in my personal ramblings that I use when I'm not seriously writing!
-1: It's like a political game - the only rule is no killing. It's a waste of talent, after all. 'Assassinations' (non-lethal ways to ensure your opponent is not ready for the Games, think a broken arm etc) are allowed. The period lasts two weeks and, during this time, every potential volunteer is made to campaign themselves and secure votes from the other students as well as the general public all while avoiding the sabotage and assassination attempts from other students. The winners are the most-voted male and female. Usually, there is a program at the academy that you must enter to be considered as a potential volunteer that briefs you on the entire thing and allows those who may not wish to participate to back out and graduate. They will still be valuable contributors to the District as educated workers, after all, and many will go on to instruct future generations.
-2: Mock Hunger Games. A simple process for a simpler district. Might makes right here. 12 male and 12 female candidates are taken and divided by male or female (NB/non-conforming tributes in this verse will participate within whatever space their submitter wishes them to occupy!) Then, the process is simple. Last one standing in each group becomes the volunteer. Killing is heavily frowned upon but no punishment usually comes from it if it's deemed accidental. The victors of these two mock 'games' must then complete a 'kill-test.' The vilest of prisoners are usually saved for this annual tradition. The volunteer from Two cements their place by besting the prisoner in combat and taking their life, showing their resolve to win and their dedication to protecting Panem from criminals and rebels.
-4: Gauntlet Run: Four serves as sort of the 'jack of all trades,' not the BEST socially or physically but very good in both regardless. They want to be prepared for the environment around them as much as other tributes, so their candidates are all placed into one group and forced to run a gauntlet. It varies year to year, but generally there is an obstacle course simulating fleeing from an arena hazard (usually a flood), catching and deboning fish from a man-made lake created for this purpose, social games that involve voting out a set number of competitors before the stage is over, and when the numbers dwindle enough, a series of 1 on 1 combat bouts until only one person is left uneliminated. These are also split into male/female sections to guarantee one person from each spot, but Four is much more free with their volunteers - anyone who wishes to participate is allowed, though those who are younger, less capable or less experienced often end up exiting early.
I hope that sheds some light on what exactly our Careers (minus Hyperion) had to go through to achieve their spots. Now, the alliance tracker!
Careers: Avalon, Youssef, Lethe, Kiana, Gulf.
Rebels(?): Kairos, Melora, Blitz, Fraser, Sterling,
Double Agent: Hyperion
Normal Dudes + Tree People: Ronan, Acacia, Merlino, Alt
Nines + Kid: Melisa, Gerald, Fox
It Girls: Ariadne, Vivienne, Rhea
Solo: Esther, Raiden, Mira