Author's Note 1: As a quick terming note, Squad is the D5 term for 'Careers' - I will try to signpost any terms like that just to keep y'all in the loop! Do have fun reading!
After Mama, the room falls into an abrupt silence. The sounds of footsteps and voices draw away, and I sink further into a plush chair, listening to the sounds of the room.
The tick of a clock, for one. Arms revolving, slowly and methodically, around the circle, ticking in an eternal cycle. Without much else to do, I lean back. Wonder how many tributes before me have sat in this same plush chair, stared at this same clock.
Waited for the Peacekeeper to knock. After half an hour, though, and the ticking of the clock beginning to drive me insane, I hear a knock. The door slips open, without a creak that would alert me back home. The urge to roll my eyes is difficult to resist, the pair who've entered rushing over and perch on each arm of my chair, looking at me with big eyes and bouncing blonde hair.
"Oh, Millie! We're so sorry!" That's Tulip, girl on my right leaning in and frowning slightly. Her tone had a hint of something I've never heard from her before, and with a start I recognize it as... something sad? Disappointment, sadness, it's hard to tell, but I glance between her and Satin with confused eyes. They shouldn't be here, and I voice as much, to be met with a bat of Satin's hand and a "Silly Millie!" that seems entirely too real.
"Oh, we came in a bit early! Figured we'd work a couple of extra hours, get the post-reaping rush and all. But then Wicke came in, and he told us who'd been reaped because of course we asked, and, well. The rush wasn't really that important, was it?"
Tulip shakes her head. "It was that important. But we thought, well, you're our colleague. Even if you don't act like it, surely we're friends by now?" I can't bring myself to say no, not now, and she offers a beaming smile in response. "See! Now, Millie."
Conspiratorially, they both lean in, whispering voices providing some advice. They've been in the business longer, after all, longer than I have. "Try to ask Elise to mentor, trust me." "Millie, you can't run too far in. Dazzle and Murua, well. Glitz says they're good. The others probably the same." "Millie, you have to get sponsors. That's how One wins, that's how the outer districts win." "Millie, don't shy away from kills. They're good for sponsors, and if you have to, well."
It's too much information, and I smile and nod at them for two, four, six minutes before the guard finally comes in, voice apologetic as he looks at us. "Sorry, Miss. Miss. Miss. You'll have to go, visitation rules mean that -" What the visitation rules mean is pushed to the back of his voice as Satin shoots him a wide smile and a plead for "Just two more minutes, please." A plea reluctantly acknowledged, Peacekeeper returning to his place outside the door while the Ones giggle and return to their whispers.
After two minutes there's a second guard with him, and there's a slight edge to his voice. "Miss, Miss. You really need to leave." They do, but not before a kiss each that turns my cheeks the colour of my hair, and guides a yelp of surprise from the younger guard. The older has a laugh in his voice, and lets them stay again to wish me luck, before the door slips shut again.
It's another few minutes before I can make out the distant voices seeming to come from somewhere. Shouting, angry. "How could you do such a thing! How do you think Mama feels, how do you think I feel? First Da, and now you?" The piped whimper in return, "I had to. For the district. Mama loved the last parcels, and I can." "And you can what? You're twelve, Robin. Twelve. Odair was fourteen, and he'd actually had training."
"I've had training! I climbed the rocks, and me and Caralynn did stick fighting!" I cringe from my seat despite the warmth, as the next round of shouting echoes through the vents. "I'm sorry, Robin. What I meant was he'd had training and wasn't INSANE. He actually kept control, the only thing you've kept control of is your death." The sobbing echoes through the vents, next, along with the slam of a door dragged forward too hard.
I don't get another visitor. That, I can understand. Corin's too upset, Dy's with him. Glitz is probably at home, or saying bye to his sister. Not exactly many others who'll be sad to see me go, or at least sad enough to wish me goodbye personally.
As such, when the hour's up, the door opens, and the Peacekeeper comes inside. He's wearing a confused frown, and the gun in his belt remains undrawn as he waits for me to stand. "Ma'am. It's time to head off. The train's waiting, and Miss Lichtmann would like to meet you before it sets off. So, if you wouldn't mind?" He gestures for me to stand, and I do. Not as quickly as it seems he would have liked, but I do stand.
The walk through the justice building is relatively sedate. No sign of Robin, although perhaps that's for the best. I can hear him, though, though the cracks under the door. A muffled set of whimpering sobs, sobs that suggest maybe he didn't entirely think through the idea of volunteering through. It awakens a feeling, a feeling I try to push down. Because everyone will know what he wanted to do, and everyone will curse the name of Finnick Odair for planting it in the heads of younger kids that they could win. Not that it's his fault, really. They make their own decisions.
Still, before we get outside I'm intercepted by the blonde from last night. Elise. She gives me a small, apologetic smile, before offering her hand. "Well, we've been introduced previously, Millie. I hope there's no hard feelings? August will be staying out of the way." I give this a tight nod, ignoring the frown that flits across her lips when I speak. "Of course. I'm perfectly fine to ignore that stuff." She gives a relieved sigh, and before saying anything else I'm guided away by the Peacekeeper, man offering an apologetic nod to her.
Exiting the Justice Building, I enter a crowd of reporters. Reporters who've set themselves up here, because Five's deemed safe enough. All holding microphones, all eager to intercept one of the tributes for this year. It's only at this point that I'm grateful for the Peacekeeper who's standing behind me, ushering the crowd aside even if it takes a few moments before they part.
Before we get to the train, however, we stop. There's no way we're passing through the crowd, and when they realize this the few routes out there are begin to close. There's a little bubble, but not by much, and now the questions are coming thick and fast. "Millie, how're you feeling about your chances?" "Millie, after last year's performance do you think you'll be able to recoup honour for District Five?" "Millie, what's your favourite Games kill?" Half the questions I either can't answer or don't understand, and yet there's not exactly much way to pass through without them. So, tapping the Peacekeeper on the shoulder, I smile, and begin trying to answer. I'm not sure the smile is working, but it's the best I can do
"Are you looking forward to the games?" "Well, absolutely!" The tremor in my voice is there, but I try to keep it down. "How could I not be, given I get to go to the Capitol!"
"Millie, Millie! What do you think about your district partner?" My speech is more confident this time, given I'm speaking some of what I believe. "I think he's a very brave young man." This is to some extent true. He is brave. Stupid also, yes, but brave.
"Do you have a special skill? Something you think will help you in the Arena?" I'm saved from having to answer that by the arrival of a squad of Peacekeepers, who have by this point shouldered their way through the crowd and formed a circle around me. The one at where the front may be begins to speak, voice amplified by... something. "People, you'll get your time later. I'm sure her mentors will answer questions. For now, I'd appreciate it," and his tone is making it clear that by appreciate he means demand, "if you could get back to wherever you're meant to be."
With a bevy of whispered complaints, the group eventually disperses. The route to the station is now open, and I'm hurried along by the Peacekeepers towards it. Arriving there, we find Robin and Theodosia already waiting for the doors to open, an engineer trying to placate our escort and failing miserably as she yells. "We need to get going! We've got to be in the Capitol by tomorrow morning, or Sacha won't be able to get the costumes properly done and then we'll all be in a world of trouble!"
"Ma'am, the train needs time to be cleaned. Five minutes, I said, and I can't speed it up." This, to me at least, feels like a feeble argument. After all, work has cleaners pretty much 24/7, and nobody pays them much mind. Surely it can't be that much harder to get cleaners on the train actually cleaning.
Still, waiting at the platform I feel a hand against my arm. The grip is firm, though not tight - when I glance down I'm sure it's as tight as it can get. Robin's standing there, tears streaming still down his face while he looks up at me with red-rimmed eyes. His lips are moving, trying to get words out, but none are forthcoming. I kneel down, reaching his eye level, and he tries to offer his free hand to shake (even if the only shaking for now is the tremors moving through his hand). "Hey, Robin. Are you, by chance, regretting your decision?"
The words come out slightly meaner than I'd intended, and he recoils, bursting back into sobs. An attempt to rest a placating hand on his shoulder results in it being pushed away, and I glare, engineer clapping his hands. "Come on, now, train's open. Sorry for the wait, Miss."
Escorted onto the train by Theodosia, the luxury is astounding. Sofas plush and inviting, lighting warm, the wooden panelling on the inside dark and glossy. It looks like the kind of room one would expect from a mansion or penthouse suite, but our Escort seems content to guide us to a table and set us down there, pressing glasses of an orange liquid into our hands. I take a sip, and it's sweet. Orangey, but too sweet to be orange. Or maybe it is, and Capitol tastes are worse. Either's a possibility, but after a minute I take another sip.
By my fourth, Robin's drunk his entire thing, and Theodosia's back with the bottle and the Victors. All of them, I notice, except Soleil. Probably off in her room somewhere, getting drunk. Honestly, it's not the worst thing that I've drunk, and considering how eagerly he gets the refill I doubt Robin's thinking any differently. The victors sit down next to us, and in an instant I'm expecting to be immersed in the same kind of advice I was given by Tulip and Satin.
Not that that happens. Elise takes my hand, and August pats Robin on the shoulder. The small boy shuffles a little closer to me, and I let him. Not like, after all, there's much reason not to. He's begun to sniffle again, and sounds so like Corin. I can't say no. Indra, standing in front of me, begins to talk (with a glare shot at Skye). "Well. First off, we know what you're going through. You've been reaped. So were all of we," a second's hesitation hangs in the air, "most of us at least. We've all ridden this train, all done what we had to do. So, and questions before we do some handling of routine issues?"
I shake my head, hair flicking into my eyes. It's brushed out impatiently, and in time to see Robin's hand shoot up. Loudly, August speaks. Audible to me, even if I can't see him from his seat. "Hell, kid. You're not exactly big on time, yes? Spit it out. Hands up are for school, we're not your bloody teachers." His voice is hoarse, edged with something. Robin takes no notice of this, of course he doesn't, and goes to speak. "Well, I was wondering. Should we make allies? 1, 2 and 4 have their Squad, and surely we'd do better with them. Does Five have any alli..." A laugh from the chair Skye's swung to face the wall, and Indra lifts two fingers to his chin. "No, Robin, no allies. None that you have right now. More importantly, you're not getting in with them. They'd cut you up like a ham on a hook, and then kill you. Stay the hell away from them."
This handled, Robin nods, and Indra stands. He speaks, voice gruff. "Now. Right then. Elise, you take Millie... to her room? Who knows. Soleil, if you can grab her, would be helpful. If you can..." "No. Soleil won't be attending, whiny little shit is in her room. Found the bar already, if you can believe it. Millie, come on. We need to have some words."
The walk to the room is handled in silence, save for a smile from a Peacekeeper (I think I recognize him from work?). When we do get to what Elise promises several times is my room, I can't quite accept it. The bed is bigger than the kitchen back home, sheets not included. There's a wardrobe, a door I'm informed connects to a bathroom. A plush carpet, one I have expect to sink into should I step on it. Still, after a little urging I step in, considering the options.
I refuse to sit on the bed. It's pristine, and despite my dress being reaping-bound it is dirty. Instead, I content myself to perch on a towel placed atop it, Elise falling back into the duvet and mattress below with a sigh. Sitting back up, she considers me for a second, before speaking. "Millie... well. Is there anything you didn't want to say in front of Robin? Anything you'd rather... keep to yourself?" The shake of my head is curtailed by a remembering that there is something, and I nod.
"Glitz, my colleague." "Yes?" I take a deep breath before speaking. "His sister. I think she's the one doing the District One volunteery thing." An exhale, and the woman besides me begins to speak. "That might not mean much. He will have seen the reapings, they air Five before One. If he told her, maybe that could be an advantage. I doubt it though. The Squaddies won't want it, or you." Smiling a little, though, she continues. "Still. Could be useful if the boy had the nerve to tell her. Never a bad thing to have that kind of connection, unless you've screwed them over."
She laughs, a high and pure sound, and in an instant her demeanour changes. I can see something's afoot, and as white teeth are bared in a smile her voice turns softer for a second. "So if you've killed Robin's family, it'd be best that be disclosed now." I shake my head, tight smile chasing onto my lips as she gives another chuckle. "No family killing here. Now, if we can get back to the killing at hand?"
I get a nod for this, and she begins to speak. "First off, Allies. I know we told Robin Five doesn't have them, that's true. But, unlike him, you might actually be able to pick up someone or someones worth something. Do try and get friendly with people, it might save you if you can. You're going to need to tell us in advance, Gamemakers get a case of the grumps when someone tries to file alliance paperwork they could have filed before the Games start."
This raises one of my eyebrows, and she nods. "Yes, paperwork. Millie, you wouldn't believe the amount of paperwork we get set. Alliances, sponsors, anything off books as a sponsor gift. Realistically, if something happens it needs to have documentation to go along with it. The stuff's unbelievable, half of Seven probably goes solely into Games paper. Now, back to what you actually need. Allies are good. Look at Seven, Nine, Eleven. The districts where there's actually something physical to do."
"Training. Make sure to actually get some knowledge down. It's fine enough to be ok and in an alliance, but ok and on your own or meh in an alliance is a bad idea. Don't want them thinking you're disposable. Edible Plants, probably a knife or something... On second thoughts, I'll get you a list of the consistent stations. I want you to memorize what the ones not on that list are. Might give you some idea of what the Arena's about. Besides, can't hurt. Get your first day done, we'll go from there."
I try to protest, am silenced with a lazy wave of her hand. "Elise, I think it would be better to have a more into it plan, because w..." "No. Trust me, I've been doing this for years. In depth plan, you freeze up and waste time if issues arise like the Squaddies taking a station. Be flexible, ok?"
I give her a polite nod, and she stands. "We'll talk more after dinner. A little bird told me they've got beef tonight, and trust me you do not want to miss that." I don't. There hasn't been beef at home since... well, it's been a while. So she takes me through to the dining carriage, through the room we were in earlier where Robin and August are having a seemingly emotional discussion and into a world of a deep, red-brown wood. Chairs, a long table heavy with food. It's a welcoming scene, even if it does feel a bit like they're fattening us for slaughter. Elise, wordlessly, takes a seat far down the table, and I sit closer to the door.
Robin and August come in soon after, Indra with them. The older man takes a seat beside August, further down from Robin and I. Skye comes in last, pointedly taking her seat at the foot of the table. A pair of servants come in, setting down a plate of roast beef sliced into various thicknesses. They don't speak, not that that feels unusual. Still, there's a certain aura around everything I can't quite place. An aura which lifts as the beef begins to get passed around. Robin and I each take a slice, then pass it down the table. This draws reprimand, with the caution that "We've got a week to get you a bit of breathing room. Get your a-" An elbow from Indra "Butts in gear, and get eating. Potatoes, vegetables, beef, gravy, everything."
After that caution, more enthusiasm is given. Particularly from Robin, because by the time he's done I'd swear the plate he's got set in front of him is bigger than he is. I dig into my own pile, and the flavours expand in my mouth. Indescribable, to someone who's lived a life of flat bread and some small amount of vegetables/meat, to have several days of food back home laid out for the taking and tasting better in one bite than an entire meal.
The chatter begins to get more rapid as the alcohol is brought out, and glasses are passed around. Even I'm offered one, before it's taken away when told I'm under age. Elise and Indra are sharing anecdotes of sponsors, August is promising Robin that the best thing to do is try and grab something at the Cornucopia, and we're all being eyed by Skye with a wary glance. It's a nice atmosphere.
Before everyone's done with the main course Soleil finally stumbles in, slurring slightly as she trips and catches herself on Robin's chair with a surprising speed. Leaning into the boy, who visibly cringes away, she slurs her words and (it seems) tries to offer advice. "Kid... Trust me. You need... keep close to the Squad. They're..." We're saved from what she wants to say next as she falls to the floor, and Indra goes to pick her up, muttering something about her alcohol problem as she's ferried away. We don't follow.
Instead, Elise presses a button on the remote, and the screens flicker to life. Dessert, after all, can wait. There's three of them, a vast one in the middle flanked by two angled in. The flickering subsides after a second, replaced with the seal of the Capitol in the central screen. A tone of what is almost boredom in her voice, our temporary mentor presses a button on the remote and Caesar Flickerman's face appears. The same manic smile as always, the man speaking with a light tone and clearly in the middle of something. "Wasn't that an exciting morning? Now, without further ado, our tributes!"
A large number 1, a deep purple, appears on the screen. Behind me, I can hear quiet voices, a laugh and the ring of talent scraping against talent. In front of me, the screen sings, Flickerman and Templesmith discussing how lovely the weather is in the sunny District as the escort calls up an indeterminable name and a blonde boy runs up to volunteer. Besides me, Robin shivers and I can hear his chair shifting closer, small boy glancing at the giggle of the young woman who bounces up to volunteer with visible fear. "Millie?"
"Yes?" I turn to him, looking at the small face. The big eyes, round and terrified. "Can we be allies?"
No. I want to say no. It wouldn't exactly do much good, and realistically I'd be spending most of my time looking after him. Still, I can't dismiss it out of hand despite my best efforts. Won't dismiss it out of hand. He's terrified, and looks in this moment so much like Corin. So instead I keep my head still, give him a little smile and a "We'll see."
Before he can respond, the anthem resumes and a broad, dark 2 shimmers into being. It cuts straight to the reaping, where a boy, no, man built like a brick house stalks up the stairs. Caesar's excited, tone admiring as he speaks on how well the young man is built, how since Enobaria Two's had a rotten streak of bad luck. Muttered whispering comes from behind me, and I turn to see Indra and August chatting over the girl. One voice is convinced it's a brunette, the other promising it won't be.
The girl from Two, as I hear a slap of the knee from behind me, isn't a brunette. A barked laugh instead comes from Indra, another scrape of coins as she ascends the steps. Blonde, lithe and with the predatory smile of a cat. She offers a quick hand to the boy, before offering a bow in lieu of any other gesture. The crowd gives her a salute, and the pair on stage return it with a smile.
Three's a pair of crying children, nothing out of the ordinary, from Three. They stumble up on the stage, boy looking older than the girl. As they stumble up, though, his eyes are wetter, and unlike the girl at least trying to hold it back he's outright bawling.
Four brings up a bronzed young woman, who saunters to the stage with a cool smirk on her face. The boy is more interesting, because he's reaped. Properly reaped, not volunteered. And, when the volunteer steps up, the process gets more complicated. Because the boy, instead of a grateful smile and a replacement, refuses to be replaced. Refuses to let the man openly asking to volunteer, volunteer. Stands on the stage, shivering, as the Escort first asks for volunteers, and then when that doesn't work reluctantly announces Leandra Docker and Tyde Yser for this year's tributes from District Four.
Then onto Five, and at this I turn away. I've already seen this. I don't need to rewatch it, and instead I lie back and think on the future. On how I've seen my competition. Capitol above, they're scary. I can't even pretend, in my head, I'd have a chance against one of them. These thoughts distract me, pull me away from watching as the names are drawn, as I ascend the stairs and only then does Robin run up, voice piping and light. A far cry from the whimpering child here now.
Six draws some excitement, Robin shaking my shoulder to draw attention. The girl first, and she's stunning. Beautiful in a way that the outer districts seldom get, the kind of girl who (as I'm reminded by Elise) will draw sponsors. She's a possible danger, and I'm so focused on analyzing that I don't even hear the boy's name. The young man, eighteen and dark-haired, stomps up the stairs. Clearly not happy to be here.
Titus Vauclause stares out at the crowd with an expression of absolute shock, and August nudges me. His tone is brash, callous, appropriate for what he says. "Ignore him. A 6 won last year, the Capitol's tired of them."