There weren't enough words in the world to describe the feeling of Games morning.
Platinum had lived through 51 of them to date, from the very first one to now, and he still didn't have the right thoughts to think, words to say, actions to do. Whether he was in the Capitol, in the same common room, his hands becoming bloodier by the year mentoring, or sitting at home in the quiet…
And yet the only year he truly felt lonely was his first year mentoring – after all, afterwards he always had a co-Victor to mentor with, during and long after the days of his Cupcake. Heh. He had to laugh or else he would break.
He wasn't even lonely for his own Games. He had her. He twirled the crystal around his finger a few times. Even after she was gone, he had… Him. Up until the bitter end, up until Platinum killed him. But he didn't have a choice. They promised each other they would give everything to live.
He knew that Drake was lying. But he was too young to know that he knew. As a fifty-year-old man that looked not a day over thirty-five, it was easy to hear the quiet waver of his voice, it was easy to notice his flighty pupils breaking eye contact for just a second.
But as a sixteen-year-old boy that had never had a true friend before… He took Drake Fellington for his word.
He wrapped his hand around the fish hook, just ensuring that it was still there before releasing a breath and slowly letting it go as he put his coffee back up to his lips. He was the foolish one then. Now, all he could do was his best for the foolish kids that thought they were doing good by following his own footsteps.
His own sons.
It was hard to not think about both of them during this season, but especially the one that didn't make it to the end. Os.
"How long have you been awake?"
Whimsy's quiet voice brought him out of his thoughts – thank God – and he looked at the young woman with her blonde curls pulled back in a bushy ponytail away from blue eyes that looked darker with how tired she seemed.
"Yes."
"You're too old to be pulling all-nighters," she scolded him as she slowly sat across from him, not even caring to feel embarrassed for calling him old as she reached over to take one of his hands, an unspoken understanding between them. The weight of the weeks to come was heavy, and it was a burden they each had to shoulder.
"Nah, you're too old to be pulling all-nighters. I've reached the status of being so fucking old I can do whatever I want."
"Okay you're not that old," Whimsy said with a small chuckle that turned to a sigh as they just looked at each other for a long moment, dreading the rising of the sun.
But they couldn't stop it – the sun rose anyways, illuminating a building full of nervous kids that had everything on the line.
One by one, the tributes forced themselves out of bed. Some had slept deeply – others not at all. Breakfast was no longer a choice – it was a necessity, and one well partaken in by the tributes. The Jack and Talon between them had the meal planned for every essential nutrient – no pancakes to be seen, the picture of the vicious trained killers they were destined to become. Meanwhile, other tributes were taking all the delicious sugar they could eat, treating the meal as if it were their last – and for some, it would be.
Gio and Chrome made light conversation with their tributes, while Mickey gently coaxed Astra to put a honeydew to her lips. Damian chatted with Rian and Cay, but Antigone was dead-silent. She just looked at Mags, who looked back at her, a silent understanding between them.
Some encouraged their tributes to eat quickly, have time to take a quick shower, while others urged them to eat slowly, savor every bite. District Five didn't take one side or the other – despite their mentoring differences, they agreed on one thing – it was the right of the tributes to decide how to spend their last hours before everything changed. Unfortunately for Silex this year consisted of coaching Kermit to not throw up, while Mav talked to Sadie quietly in the background.
Plates were given to Avoxes to be taken away, and with sighs of full bellies, Jamir and Bailey were sitting back in their chairs, smiling at Cash and Noelle, feigning confidence. But nobody in the room was fooled, as their escort had hands to her chest figuring out how to help all of them.
Time didn't stop. Bucket and Sabine sat in silence, quiet enough to hear the seconds tick by. Luther and Marlowe sipped matching black coffees as they watched the two, clinging to each other in the few moments they had left.
Right on time, Osiris had the District Eight team moving to their spots. Bronx listened to him even when Ritter gave an evil eye, bidding farewell to Pepper French and Nico before separating. The mentors went to their space, and the tributes were taken underground, to their launch rooms.
Doe looked around the dim tunnels with wide eyes. Carlisle had lip tucked in his teeth, staring straight ahead as they were guided to their places by their young escort, who looked around almost as nervously.
Inspektor stopped when he reached the assigned area for District Ten, not at all surprised when Gus ran into his back. Brook's assistant pulled her to a stop before she followed suit. He took a deep breath as the assistant took the young girl into her room to meet her stylist, and felt obligated to open the door for Gus, who looked at him one more second.
"You did all you could for her."
The parting words he needed as the door closed behind him.
Kunal was face-to-face with Rochelle once more, their hands shaking as they twitched into the shape of a weapon, trying to remember what it felt like to hold one. But the feeling was just as alien now as it was when they were sitting at home, trying to imagine what they would do if they were ever forced into the yearly death pageant.
Pepper Carson stood tall, chin up, but her breaths shook as she was changed into her Arena uniform – nothing given away by the plain T-shirt, thin jacket, cargo pants, and breathable tennis shoes. Seemed like the same as every other stupid year. But part of her was relieved by this.
Farley shivered a little bit in the Arena clothes in the cold tunnels. But his hand wrapped around the crystal around his neck. The only good thing he had left. Kennedy just kept talking. Maybe if she did, she would never be forced to step into the tube. But she wouldn't be so lucky.
"Showtime."
Perfectly-manicured nails in orange and red floated over the holographic keyboard, putting in shortcuts to pull up each camera, look at the views, and make sure nothing malfunctioned last-minute. Everyone knew that President Snow wasn't happy when the Games had even the smallest blip exposed to the public.
Maybe Castiel should have been nervous. And sure, there was just a small flutter in their chest. But this was something they had done before – just from down there in the circle, not up here in the big seat. Being nervous just wasted time. Living in the present was the only way to survive. They did their part – it was now time for the tributes to do theirs in this transactional relationship they had. If they didn't hold up their part of the deal… That was why Cas was up here, and they were all down there, sadly.
"Status?" asked someone in the room – Cas didn't try too hard to memorize their names.
"All clear."
No wavering. No doubt. Everything was going as it should. It was time to give the people what they asked for. And to give Zoey the last gift she may ever remember from them.
"All clear!" the tech repeated into a headset and the room started into motion like cogs in a machine, running smoothly with and around each other. It was as if having an organized Head Gamemaker actually made for a smooth Games. Who would have thought?
Small panes of glass slid closed around tributes – some of them brave, some acting brave, and some not at all brave.
The sunlight was blinding to them as the platforms rose into the sunny fields. The ground around them was vibrant and colorful, the sky perfectly blue, the clouds lazy. It was a place out of their dreams – soon to become the place of their shared collective nightmare.
"Red Light!" a panicked young man cried out, putting his hand on his forehead and squinting before he caught sight of his District partner, frozen for only a moment, squinting in the sun, mostly hidden behind the tall, towering Career that stood next to her.
He did all he could for her.
Sixty.
Mickey waited until blue eyes met his own to gesture his head behind him to the left. That was where they would meet. He took another breath, trying to put his eyes on a backpack that he could swoop in and pick up. Something about this, staring at the glimmering horn in front of him, it made him feel something.
Next to him, Cupey looked between Kermit and Mickey, noticing his allies scattered around. Good. Seven. Seven was the number. The question was only who the unfortunate seven were. Moments.
Bucket tried to count how many tributes stood between him and Sabine, and lost count as he could barely even see. He was all the way on the end, and she was towards the middle, almost at the other side. She found him too, and when their eyes met she just mouthed to him. Go. And she moved her head to the side. Bucket swallowed hard but he nodded. They needed things to survive…
Past Bucket was Kennedy, looking at Kunal beside her with wide eyes who was standing next to their ally Carlisle. Dazzle counted the tributes before her eyes rested on the horn, trying to count the weapons she could see. Next to her, Pepper French felt so… Small. But at least not as small as Sabine by her side. Bailey leaned forward a little bit, squinting toward the horn while Gus was leaning side to side, as far as he dared, to try to find Brook and talk to her… It was useless.
Doe slowly sunk down on her platform which made it a little easier for him, but he still had quite a few people to look around.
Astra had to keep from nodding at Mickey, staring at Ornstein looking so tall beside her, especially compared to Nico on his other side. Mav was next to Nico, and on his other side, one of his allies as well – Jamir. This was why it was safer in bigger groups.
Beside Jamir, Damian was turned to the other side. He crouched down on his platform and slowly put out his hand.
"Red light," he said to the girl on the platform beside him. She looked up to meet his eyes for a moment. "Red light."
The countdown continued.
Antigone looked at her District partner talking to the girl, a growing terrible feeling starting deep in her belly and going all the way to her chest, hearing Farley mumbling to his crystal beside her. On the end, Pepper Carson had her eyes on a spear that was in the lip of the horn, and next to her Isabella, also eyeing the same weapon. They obviously put it there just for her.
"Red light."
Five. Four.
She moved.
"Red light," Damian said again and put out his hand, waiting until she looked at him again.
Three.
Hearts were roaring in ears.
Two.
One.
The gong rang, sending all of the tributes into action. The girl that had been standing on her platform turned as soon as Damian started running so suddenly, carrying herself away quickly on all fours towards the rolling hills.
Her District Partner was looking for her in the midst of the sudden chaos, frozen in place until a shove made him fall over. The District Four boy was standing over him. Gus scooted back on his hands, trying to make himself move. Damian turned and went towards the horn, and Gus quickly pushed himself up to his feet, witnessing people start falling at the horn and stumbling away in the direction he was pushed, realizing that he lost Brook and looking for her. He almost bumped into other tributes running away, but pushed past them. She deserved a chance, if he could just find her…
The first tribute to fall had a sword sticking out her chest. The body of Kennedy was kicked off of Cupey's sword, the first death and the first tick on his list of seven. And the second was quickly coming. When Mickey got to the horn, Cupey thrust his sword out, adrenaline practically blinding him. But his eyes quickly opened when he didn't feel the crunch of bones and instead his sword struck something. He was thrown into a battle, the District Three boy wielding a staff and deflecting every slash of his sword. Predicting his feint. Striking him back and causing him to fall back, with his sword.
Cupey's teeth gritted as he threw the sword down in frustration, going for a bow to shoot at the boy who was running away, wearing a backpack and holding the weapon he had used to deflect Cupey. How? HOW!? How did a boy from District THREE do that to HIM?! Another arrow, he was missing dammit he was missing!
During the fight, after the girl from Twelve fell, the plan of Maverick's larger alliance was quickly falling apart. Instead of striking his District partner who was grabbing a backpack, he struck Jamir who was collecting for their alliance, no matter how close he was to the edge. He just wasn't fast enough.
Dazzle had since gotten her hands on a set of knives, still getting used to their weight and shape in her hand. Kunal was right next to their ally, both of them desperately trying to get their hands on something. But when the flicked her wrist, Kunal thought fast. Too fast, perhaps. They threw the boy from Nine down to the ground with all their strength, and in the second it took him to get up, it was too late. Dazzle's knife handle stuck out of his back as she quickly threw a second at Kunal, which buried itself into the back of their thigh as they were running. But they were alive as they grabbed foolish Farley by the arm and dragged him out of there. Dazzle noticed a bow and quickly switched weapons, taking her bow and aiming it at Kermit who was running with a small lame backpack from the mouth of the horn, shooting it a few times until she struck and he fell forward, scrambling back up and hobbling out of her sight, hidden by the lush foliage around them.
Pepper C didn't get a moment of reprieve trying to get that spear from Isabella. Pepper took a breath and then spit in her face, hoping to stun her as she wriggled, locked into hand-to-hand combat. Isabella threw back her hand for another punch, causing Pepper's mouth to fill with the metallic taste of blood as Isabella scrambled up, giving her a boot to the face to keep her down. Pepper struggled, but Isabella was faster, grabbing the spear after a bit of a struggle and shoving it down into her chest with a victorious yell.
Sabine was glad to not have fallen over and blown up, but that was the least of her problems. She had to be so careful, turned around, when a force sent her down to the ground. She just saw the dark brown pants belonging to Bailey as she tried to push herself up and suddenly felt a pain burst by her hip – an arrow skillfully shot by Cupey, who was focused on her, starting to get closer. Before he took his next shot, Sabine felt herself get jerked up and let out a yell before she recognized the forest green of Bucket's jacket, holding onto him as he tossed her over his shoulder and started running in a sporadic zig zag pattern, the arrows whizzing past them as Sabine's ass throbbed and she was jostled by him running.
Mav was oblivious to Jamir's death, focused on the plan. He was right next to Pepper French and the two of them had wrapped hands around their backpacks. They were the lucky ones. Instead of attacking the two that were collecting, Ornstein had made a different decision, and targeted their look-out. Bailey put up a fight, jumping at him, but the fight was ceased quickly as he had the advantage of a weapon. Her sacrifice gave just enough time for Mav and Pepper F to slip away from the chaos, leaving their other allies behind.
He turned, seeing Nico running towards him, instinctively striking him with his sword, which ripped his jacket down to the skin. He pulled his sword back up again before looking at his face, into his eyes, and his sword faltered for just a moment. A moment was more than enough for Nico to get away. He was turned the other way from where Antigone had escaped, and didn't even stop to look for her before he was disappearing. Antigone saw him vaguely in the chaos, trying to run in his direction but losing him quickly. No, she couldn't be alone…
Isabella wiped her face as things were quieting, noticing a tribute just sitting there. She wasn't going to leave a single stone unturned, and hurried over to where Doe was sitting cross-legged on her platform, taking deep breaths as if accepting her death. It was a quick kill for her, but Isabella could see the moment her eyes glazed over and the life was just… Gone. Fuck, she'd never actually killed before… Now she'd done it twice…
Then, quiet.
Five teens.
Surrounded by six dead kids.
For just a moment, the ghosts outnumbered the haunted.
Brown eyes scoured the field.
Six.
Six.
"SIX?!"
Seven.
Seven.
It had to be seven. He could hear his own breaths. He could hear the sound of the blood roaring in his ears. This wasn't right. They weren't good enough, they were all going to die, some fucking outer District scrap was going to steal the title, and all of their fucking lives!
Cupey was good enough.
He
was
good
enough!
Seven. It had to be seven. So he had to do it.
His arrow had just barely brushed his bowstring before the weapon was grabbed, dragged down, and he was staring at wide eyes through wireframe glasses staring at him, wide, frenzied.
"What are you doing?" Dazzle hissed at him as she stared at him, and then looked at Isabella who had a few backpacks on her shoulders and was walking towards them, Ornstein following with a few bags in hand.
"Six isn't enough," Cupey said to her quietly, tears lacing his voice.
"It's fine," Dazzle hissed to him again, holding the bow down for one more second before he used it. "It's not worth it, Cupey."
Something about hearing her voice say his name brought him back down slowly, blinking a few times to adjust the dry brown contacts covering his eyes. This wasn't right. But he couldn't make things worse than they already were. Dazzle looked around, noticing Damian quickly look away as Ornstein threw all the bags down proudly, Isabella behind him.
"Two," she said, knowing what they wanted to know.
"Just one," Dazzle said, as Cupey slowly let the bow fall to the ground, going to retrieve the sword from the ground. The best way to let an outer District rat run away with his crown would be to do something stupid and blow up the alliance too early.
"One," Damian said. "I think doing the math, that leaves each of us with one."
"That's right," Ornstein said, clearing his throat. He should have killed Nico, but… He faltered when it mattered. He couldn't keep doing that… For so many reasons.
"One."
Cupey gave his allies a grin before he continued. "But Daz and I got a lot of 'em weakened on their way out. A little… present from us for taking our supplies." He let out a small tch of a chuckle. Dazzle looked at him for a moment before looking back at her allies, not sure what to think about his sudden change.
"Then we get our supplies organized, and decide our shifts," Ornstein told them all as he stepped forward, stepping on one of Kennedy's fingers and quickly pulling his foot back, almost apologetically before seeing her splayed out on the ground that way and looking away quickly. He didn't do this one. But that didn't make it feel better. None of this made it feel better.
But he did the hardest part – the first kill. That would be the hardest part… Right?
"Morning hunt," Isabella said, looking at them all and daring to be challenged.
"Alright, well first we have to unload all this shit from the backpacks and load them all back up again, don't get ahead of yourself," Damian said as he got to his knees and started opening backpacks, sliding a bottle of blue liquid into his jacket pocket when the others weren't looking.
That was when the six cannons fired, notifying the tributes among the rolling fields of colorful flowers, trees, and lush bushes of the six fallen amongst them. The six that had lost their chance at a full life.
In small groups of hushed whispers, tributes tried to figure out what they saw – and who the fallen were. Some small groups mourned one or more of their own. And a few that didn't expect to be alone… Were.
The Gamemakers clapped for themselves, patted each other on the back, and talked about the excitement they'd experienced and everything they had planned for the tributes over the coming days. They were proud.
Cas wasn't quite proud yet. They didn't smile and pat anyone's back. They just looked at their screens, switched the footages, watched tributes talk to each other in hushed voices, and nurse their wounds. It was good, sure.
But it was also just the beginning.
~.~.
A/N: Celtic? 27. Tributes? Dead. Bloodbath? Finished. Peace.
Oh, I am gonna do eulogies, but I'm going to do all eulogies after the faces in the sky. So next chap will be night one! (If you wanna know the placements for profiles I suppose I can make an exception for the BB and tell you… This time.)
Expect longer between updates now as my stockpile is officially Out and I have Nothing planned from here. Until then check the blog for map stuff and the blog for supply stuff. See ya when I see ya!
