mess

"When I win...I am going to kill them, and that's not a threat, that's a promise. "Motioning to his exposed chest. "Look at what they fucking did to my nipples. And they've been hurting all fucking night now too. I don't think I'm ever going to be able to wear a shirt comfortably again. And then they dare to make me put it on fucking display, do you know how many conversations I've had with sponsors where they were more focused on my fucking pecs than what I was saying?"

Rolling his eyes and huffing, "Also I'm starting to think no one gives a fuck about our modesty in place. I don't know if you got a more respectful onboarding, but get this, we get off the train and they fucking take all my clothes, and hose me down and just start shaving everything like I'm some sort of fucking doll. I really fucking doubt anyone would care if I had hair on my fucking ass here." Balling his hand into a fist he slamned the wall next to them, feeling himself getting angrier at how he had been treated.

"No one tells you about any of this fucking shit. I just wanna get into the arena and get this nonsense over with." Breathing a little, he looked back over at them. "Sorry, I got....emotional. I won't do that again, promise."

one glaring difference to the parties back home was that iza had friends that made weathering everything worth it. that, and their head wasn't on the chopping block, and the faces that surrounded them weren't anticipating their rapidly approaching participation in the hunger games.

the fucking hunger games.

the only friend they had here was satin, and the only reason they were friends at all was because neither one of them wanted to be lonely before they died. before iza died, anyways. satin's rage served as a decent distraction from their self- pity, though, and iza tried very, very hard to focus on his face and not his exposed chest.

it was a nice chest. sue them. they wouldn't say as much, but who could really fault the sponsors?

their eyebrows rose at the... not threat. promise. frankly, the longer the night went on, the more ready there were to support that sort of vendetta against the stylist, with the innocent, doll- like getup they'd been given. at least nothing had been pierced. yet. rather concerning that that was on the table, actually, but iza supposed the image they were trying to build for them clashed a little with... that.

they looked, like they'd been told to, and once their eyes were there it was rather hard to look away. it was just... shiny, and practically eye- level considering the height difference between them. iza's lips parted to say something that never made it from brain to mouth and they froze for a moment, eventually biting down on their lower lip, blinking rapidly and trying valiantly to banish the heat flooding their face.

mind, out of the gutter. contemplating satin's hairy ass-- or formerly hairy ass, as it were- didn't exactly help things. they jumped a little as satin punched the wall, exhaling a whoosh of air. "...i'm sorry," iza managed to squeak out finally, reaching out to gingerly pat his arm. "they didn't stick any needles in me, but i got the same treatment aside from that, if it makes you feel any better." it had been dehumanizing and embarrassing. the least iza could be trusted with was their own grooming and personal hygiene, but attempts to point that out had gone ignored.

the clipped answer actually curls the corners of asena's lips up in a half concealed grin, she liked the ones with some bite, some spirit. but of course that too came with qualifications and conditions. she did her best to know the tributes by name and face after the reaping, she thought it was important even if she was alone in that thought and practice. this was the district one tribute, with another name that carried weight. she didn't begrudge any of them the desire or opportunity to spend this night how they chose. they had few choices left in their lives after all. she watches as they take a drink anyway, curiosity or expectation, she wasn't sure which one drove them to it.

the question felt like it had too much meaning, certainly they meant the drinks but did they really? discussing it seemed bizarre in a way, fruit juice was not something asena had ever had before she came here and it was perhaps the least interesting thing at this banquet as well. "none of them." she replies coolly, looking at the little blonde. "there was a moonshine they used to make back in seven, they'd add dried fruits to your mug and pour it hot over those. if i had the ability, that is the one i'd choose." she didn't bother asking the same question, a few hours at a party wasn't enough time to try enough of anything to have a favorite in her opinion, but maybe being from district one they'd had more opportunity than most. "if you do want something with more ... kick, ask for perseus back in the tower. or ask for me, perseus can be tricky to get hold of but i'm ... well stocked." she didn't drink alcohol in public but she made no such concession in the privacy of her home, and she always brought a few things with her into the tribute tower too. the only reason she even offered was because she was intrigued by this tribute, at least so far.

if they let themself, they'd dwell on what drink they'd have if they could have any in the world-- and although alcohol was iza's drink of choice, the answer that settled in their brain and wouldn't let go was the hot, rich, creamy cocoa drink their father made, syrupy and sweet.

they blinked. once, twice. not a line of thought they could dwell on in public. their fingers drifted to the neckline of their dress for a moment, fingertips pressing against the pendant they hadn't taken off since their father had bestowed them with it on reaping day. the touch lingered for a moment, and then their hand dropped away, the memory banished.

the training center was even more impressive than sparrow had imagined it to be. the shack they called home back could’ve fit in their new bedroom five times over, not the mention the rest of the luxurious suite allotted to district eleven. while their first few hours in the capitol had been spent marveling at the comforts allotted to them, the distraction had quickly faded. everything sure seemed less rosy when they started to think that their last meal before the arena would be enjoyed here, or that it might be the last time they slept in a real bed. 

once those thoughts had settled in, the place had quickly become suffocating. sparrow wasn’t sure they were even allowed to leave their rooms unaccompanied, but no one had tried to stop them when they’d taken a few steps out the door, and the few avoxes they ran into averted their gazes, hurrying on without so much as an indication that they’d seen them. they took it as validation - what else could the capitol do to punish them, anyway ? -, making their way to the elevator and pressing the topmost button.

the sight of the sunrise greeted them. from below, it might’ve been hard to see⎯but up here, near the top of the skyscrapers, there was enough of the sky to take a good look at the soft pink and orange hues of the new dawn. they lingered, walking back and forth aimlessly across the roof, eyeing the plants that grew in their pots. they were fed plenty enough here, but what could they say ? old habits died hard. 

the ping of the elevator startled them, and they turned like a frightened rabbit, half expecting to find a peacekeeper standing there. when they realized the figure who approached wore no white uniform, sparrow breathed a quiet sigh of relief. they shoved their hands into their pockets but relaxed their elbows, deliberately going for a nonchalant stance. ❛ go on. the view’s free, as far as i can tell. no one's stopped me yet, anyway. ❜ they kept the newcomer at the periphery of their vision for a few moments before adding : ❛ early bird, aren't ya ? ❜

it was too much to hope that they'd be alone here, too, but iza swallowed the momentary disappointment. they didn't have the energy right now to truly care.

"everything in this city comes at a price," iza pointed out, though they likely should have kept their mouth shut. not everyone was sulking about being here... and to the wrong ears, such words could have been considered treasonous, iza was sure.

whatever. the worst anyone could do at this point was expedite their death.

"hardly," iza answered, a grim smile curving their lips. "haven't slept yet. my bed at home is nicer." it wasn't, in the technical sense-- but all the silk and feather down in the world couldn't beat the comfort at home, the warmth of their puppy curled around their head like a halo, the sound of their family filtering in the crack underneath their bedroom door.

all iza'd been able to think about was that they'd never have any of that ever again.

in some ways-- it felt as if they'd already died.

"well, what do you think?" they asked after a moment, creeping close to the edge with their arms crossed. "city of dreams? personally, i thought it'd be prettier."

"you're the lamb from district one?" admittedly, after her own reaping thimble had not been paying much attention to the rest. she did try on the train to catch up on who the other tribute were, but all that information was a bit overwhelming to focus on for too long. She abandoned it altogether after the first few. the pictures and flat faces felt too foreign and sterile. however, that meant she did manage to vaguely recognized iza.

now that they stood in person, thimble took the opportunity to gauge the opponent for herself. "hm. you're a bit small to be a career, aren't you?" there was something terribly familiar about them, though. perhaps it was merely the circumstance they presently shared. "did you volunteer?"

a part of them wanted to rebel at the moniker, but something deeper didn't react the way it might have if the word had come from anyone else. "that would be me," iza answered after a moment, giving a sardonic little curtsy. if there was a lamb from district one, it certainly wasn't satin. he was the lion in that equation, though iza was loathe to admit it. "but you can call me iza if that's too much of a mouthful."

he reached out and plucked something off the table, lifted it to examine it. it looked like chocolate, something that had been a very rare treat that he'd only ever seen, never experienced. the one time he'd had some, he'd given it to marisol, and being a ten year old at the time, she'd basically inhaled it. "does it have a flavor besides bubbly? i don't think i would like something that just tasted like bubbles, but then, i might be thinking only of bubbles in the cleaning sense of the word."

"you smell nice. i'm not certain they have a single ingredient in common," iza said, brow furrowed, somewhat aghast. they stared at him for a moment, eyebrows still pushed together, until they came to a decision. their arm wound around the stranger's, hauling him down the long table until they found what they were looking for-- a tower of brightly colored, delectably perfect macarons. they picked one up, took a single bite, and then offered the rest of the little tan treat to peter, unhanding him in order to reach for a different color with their other hand.

this iza didn't strike duri as the last one, despite the volunteering. "its a shame, you know. i'm already a victor, i can't volunteer to go back in." her eyes wandered the party for a moment. landed on their target and lingered there. "do you have siblings back home?"

a sacrifice, maybe. but that was the sort of thing you didn't say aloud.

"you would endure it twice?" they asked, incredulous. iza'd rather not follow through the first time. that statement, followed by the question, though, perhaps answered why. "i do."

and for them, iza supposed, they would have walked through hell again. "and i guess i'm grateful that's where they are." back home. not here.

iza didn't want this. never had. but there were people they wanted it for even less, and although they couldn't say they didn't regret being here-- if they'd been given the chance to do it all over again, they couldn't say they'd follow any other path.

by no means was aphrodite thrilled about plummeting, warp speed, on a train, to her death. amoreena had trained all her life and didn't make it, such was the case with many other career tributes. but aphrodite wasn't planning on taking this laying down. she didn't know if she could win, but she knew she was going to try, and she knew the power a smile and a carefully calculated touch. some capitol soiree was the perfect chance to assert herself and do what she did best with a touch of charm.

aphrodite paused in a chrome type of pillar where she could see her reflection. she adjusted her hair, rolled her shoulders back, and headed in the direction of refreshments. she could see drinks and all sorts of snacks unfamiliar to her. taking advantage of her own ignorance, aphrodite walked up to the table, walking her fingers across the edge, grabbing the foreign hors d'oeuvres and examining it for a brief moment. "it's beautiful." she stated plainly, turning to the person beside her and immediately making intense eye contact. her own sort of siren song. she broke eye contact to look at the floral cake in her hands, "i have to admit, i'm not sure i want to sink my teeth into this just yet." aphrodite's gaze flicked back to the other as she curiously inquired, "want a bite?" of her, or the treat, would both be fine.

their eyes followed the stranger's to the food in question, an elegant, tiny little cake painstakingly decorated with a floral motif, frosted with stunningly bright dyes. the sort of thing borne of someone's passion, a labor of love-- the thought sent a pang through the pit of their stomach, but they wouldn't focus on that right now. they'd try not to, at least.

"for me, the key to a perfect cake is all about the frosting," iza noted. they leaned in to take a little nibble at the offer, taking a moment to savor the flavor profile, the texture. "not bitter, but not too sweet, either. perfectly creamy." they nodded their head at it, eyes finally slipping back to their new companion. "you should give it a try. life's too short not to take advantage of such pleasures."

SOPHIE THATCHER

they fell quiet for a moment before bitterness burst forth. "i mean, really. alliances." they laughed, but it was a helpless, choked sound. "with who? potential sponsors? or other tributes? because i have a deal with satin, and that's only because we're from the same district... i don't think he'll make any alliances outside that. so by extension, it's hard for me to team up with anyone else, unless--" unless the deal was to turn traitor on satin when it got down to the wire. "but i shouldn't be talking to you about that, should i?" while oslo perhaps arguably had some sort of loyalty to the two of them, as the district he was escorting-- he didn't have a reason to be loyal to iza over satin. and if satin got the faintest idea that iza would betray him, then it was game over.

iza didn't know if they could, anyways. maybe they had it in them. maybe they didn't. the thought of it turned their stomach.

"and sponsors. i guess i could go charm the pants off of someone in there, but who's really going to give me a second look with a district- mate like satin?" they turned to look at oslo, eyes scanning his features as if to try and determine how honest his potential answer would be. "would you?"

"Just the basics you learned at the District One Academy give you a leg up to all the other Tributes, besides Two and Four. The boy from Four doesn't look threatening though. You're also in luck because we get more time to train in the Capitol, with actual trainers. I'm willing to give you some pointers, here and there. Nothing major, and nothing with weapons." He didn't want to risk being the one who taught someone else exactly what ended up killing him by some accident. However, Satin wasn't sure if Iza even had the willpower needed to take another life.

"You need more than just being good at weapons if you want to live through the games; plants, animals, environmental surroundings, everything about the arena is important and can be used to win. Obviously, we're both District One......that means I won't kill if you don't make me have to." That was his way of nicely telling Iza not to make it to the final two. "Killing your District Partner has always been tacky to me. I'll keep you alive until we get to the final five, you'll help me kill Two, and maybe Four if they're still around, and then we split. I don't want to see you again." Wetting his lip and rubbing the back of his neck.

"And I guess until we get into the arena, we can be friends." Satin had never really made friends.....his social life had taken the brunt of loss in his always preparing to win the games. "I am after all the last person from home you're going to see.....I don't want you to feel lonely before it happens you know? And if you want you can write letters and stuff for whoever you want back home, I'll make sure they get there for you."

even if it appeared otherwise some, or most, of the time.

and maybe one of those times was as satin was detailing everything that was important and yes, actually, iza did know that- but without a study guide beforehand, what good did it do? it was like tying a blindfold across your eyes, spinning in circles and hoping to hit a target with a dart. maybe you'd figure out the right random thing, maybe you wouldn't. a damned fool's errand, that's what it was.

and perhaps it was foolish to take satin at his word that he'd keep them alive, at least for a while. nothing he'd go out of his way for, obviously-- but the idea that they wouldn't be one of the very first cannons, that brought a lump to their throat. i won't kill you if you don't make me have to. "i won't kill you if you don't make me have to," iza countered, a slight huff leaving them as they took a step forward. "that was a joke. you can laugh, if you want," iza pointed out, holding both hands up. though it hadn't been, not really. iza didn't particularly want to kill anyone, but a familiar face least of all. they would if they had to, though... wouldn't they?

a question only time would answer.

"you'd do all that?" iza asked, tilting their head at him. it was all strangely... sweet. a lot more human than iza'd ever figured this nebulous figure could be. to iza, satin had always been... from another world, almost. a world where there were different values, different goals, different rules, and here they were-- thrust into that world together. "it's... that's very sweet of you, satin. thank you."

they didn't know the boy well enough to gauge how honest he was, but iza considered themself a pretty good judge of character-- and they'd never been given any reason to mistrust satin. unless this was some ploy to get iza's guard down. that was possible, they supposed. still... something told them that wasn't it, at least not entirely. with that in mind, iza began repeating the offers satin had made.

"You'll keep me alive until the final five. We're a team until then. We'll take out two and four and we won't see each other again after that outside the pictures in the sky." hopefully. "and until the games start, you'll teach me... a little. for now, we'll be... best friends. you swear to it? all of it?" they stepped forward, eyes glued to satin's face, and reached out a hand, pinky finger extended.

networking was most of the point of this event, it was the part asena had to work at the most, even if some thought she was a natural. the strain never showed on her face, usually but as the years went on she was losing her desire to control her face, her tone, her words. this year she was just as lovely as usual but her words felt more clipped and biting, her tone soft but strong as ever, beautiful but unattainable and unreachable. when it wasn't the capitol elite she was playing this game with she could come across as haughty or arrogant, like she thought herself above the people she worked with and for. but for asena it was never so cold, she simply didn't trust anyone and offered no piece of herself to anyone because of it. most of the capitol fools couldn't tell the difference and she was happy to keep it that way.

pulled into conversation with more figureheads and actresses and sponsors, she plasters a serene smile on her lips that doesn't reach her eyes, shrewd as ever. they speak of nothing of importance, they bet on human lives and drink and eat to excess. all of it crawls beneath asena's skin and settles there like a disease, and not for the first time she wonders if she should leave the capitol and go back to seven, a home that never felt like home. would it be worse than being near this lot? would it feel just as foreign, was she doomed to be a ghost floating aimlessly through this life. she wanted to detach from this group, beginning to pull away when she called back a final answer to a stupid question asked of her. "yes cyril, if i could bet i'd always bet on my own tributes." it didn't matter if it wasn't necessarily true.

she strolled to a smaller refreshment table further from the crowd, she stayed sober at this event but the juices offered were flavorful and refreshing enough for her to seek them out. she noticed another eyeing the drinks and offered her knowledge. "non-alcholic, if you'd prefer."

but it wasn't another night at home. everything had changed. everything, it seemed, except for iza-- and how ridiculous was it to dance around feeling like a fish out of water here, of all places? the sort of event where they ought to fit right in? the drink was tangy but sweet, and in another life, another situation, iza might have found joy in it. "which one is your favorite?" iza asked, not really caring for the answer-- but if they were going to waste their night, as it was starting to look like they would, they might as well seek what information they could from someone who seemed to know their way around a little. even if said information was something as trivial as fruity, spiritless drinks.