PASTICHE

…

Just like any other person new to the Capitol, Jonas couldn’t help but gawk at the crowd surrounding the Tower just to see tributes like him. Were they all trying to outdo each other with their tacky hairstyles and outfits? He’d seen them in glimpses on his television in Four, but witnessing it firsthand made him the slightest bit dizzy. Apparently he wasn’t alone in that sentiment when he overheard the kid from One speaking to him. “All of them here to see you,” Jonas teased. What was a little banter between two tributes? “Let’s hope you don’t put on a disappointing show.”

Finn laughs lightly at the comment, shrugging, “Au contraire, I’m sure they’re lining up to get a glimpse of the star of Four,” he responds, tone playful and easy-going. Jonas was one of the few fellow tributes he could actually recognize. He had only watched the Reapings from the other Career districts, as they would be his only real hurdle to a victory. “Oh, believe you me, I don’t need to worry about putting on a good show,” he says, smirking slightly. Finn turns back out to look at the crowd, “Though, for some reason, I don’t feel like this is exactly a hard crowd to please.”

…

Behind the tinted-glass, Cab felt somewhat safer now that he was away from the prying eyes of the Capitol. It was as if they could be the ones watching the rest of them like zoo animals rather than the other way around. He made sure to keep a careful distance from the other man standing nearby to avoid an unwarranted conversation, but perhaps the odds weren’t in his favour that day. The smile on the other’s face made him grimace in return and Cab couldn’t quite place who exactly was speaking to him. The Tower had been a revolving door of constant strangers especially now that the Quell was starting. “Often, most of them stay. The more affluent Capitolites don’t have jobs to worry about, so this hobby is as time-consuming as anything else. I take it this is your first time here?”

The other couldn’t have had made it anymore obvious that he had no interest in talking to Finn. Normally, he would take the hint, and find someone else to speak to. But, this wasn’t exactly a normal situation to him, and he would much rather be an awkward conversation rather not at all. “I can’t imagine they’ll get to see anything exciting, what a waste of time,” he says, before shrugging slightly, “Though, I guess they do have all the time to waste.” He nods at the question, glancing back at the man. From the way he spoke, he had to assume that he wasn’t another tribute, which was a relief. “Yup, first time,” he says, and hopefully not the last. “Though, you could normally see the lights of the Capitol in One. Just didn’t think it would actually live up to what we saw on TV.”

District 12 had come to hate the Captail for his opulance and selfishness when families starved and could barely survive the harsh winters. Gale had felt that deeply every time he snuck out of the fence boundary and into the forests to hunt. A squirrel, a rabbit, each thing meant one more mouthful of food. This was his first time to the Capital and he hated it the moment the train had stopped and he was met with an explosion of lights and colors so different to the muted and quiet nature of tweleve. He had worked the last year in the mines and he couldn’t imagine a single dolled up face he passed surviving even five minutes down there. All the way to the tribute tower, people wanted to see those signed up for Snow’s special quarter quelll. Even now they hung outside and finding himself restless he found himself wandering. Being here makes him think about Katniss, in a lot of ways he’s following her path. He wonderings if she had sleepless nights as well wondering about the people she would face in the arena. He knew Katniss and the girl on fire that the captial trolls dolled wasn’t really here. Someone else is up as well and they speak up first. Its awkward small talk and Gale hates that; its seems petty but he knows better. Allies would be needed in the game. “I’d bet it’s probably going to be all night. They don’t seem to have anything better to do.” He notes. It seems so careless, they don’t wonder about their next meal they just want a glimpse of the hottest news. “You’re from District One right?” 

“Oh to have as much free time as they do. I think I would go crazy if I didn’t have anything to all day. But maybe they have, hence the outfits,” Finn jokes, turning his attention back out to the crowd. Though, truly, he didn’t judge them too much. He had seen similar fashion tastes in District One, all the district citizens wishing they were from the Capitol, and some pretending they were. After all, such close proximity, and wealth, there wasn’t much difference in some ways. Except for the fact that it was District One who children who had to throw themselves into the arena, for all the glory one could ever hope for. He raises his eyebrow at the question, finally taking a better look at the other. The man must have been from an outer district, from the looks of him. Still, he was nothing if not polite. “You got it,” he confirms, extending his hand to the other, “Name’s Finn, and you are?”

“We do our best…” He commented affably as he raised his glass. “I have to admit I am quite curious what grown ups can do” Finnick added as he smiled at him. Deep inside, he was happy they were moving away from using kids. Letting grown ups kill each other may be flashier. Adults killing each other was much less intimidating than kids murdering each other. 

“Indeed, I hope you kept your skills sharpen. i know many people that after they turned eighteen, they became not that good” He finally added.

“More than your best, Four as had some pretty successful victors, the proof is standing in front of me,” he says. Finn was fine at flattering people, and great in social situations, normally. He wasn’t quite sure about the fighting skills. It wasn’t like he had ever stood out in the first place. He had done well enough to catch the attention of those he wanted to notice him. Beyond that, he had never focuses on his combat skills. Not when there had been so many other people itching to volunteer. “I’m sure once I get my hand on a weapon, it will be just like old times. Like riding a bike,” he lies. As much as he wanted to be comfortable, he had to remember that this wasn’t mentor, Finnick had two other tributes to support, no need to give him any insider information. 

“It is their specialty,” she muttered without pointing out their other, more grim, specialtes because that much was obvious. Instead, Aspen wanted him as he set the glass aside thankful he wasn’t drinking it and that she didn’t have to either. It was one thing when no one else was around but a pushy sponsor, but there were plenty of people around now.

Aspen chewed her lip. “While I totally agree with that statemet…” She trailed off with a shake of her head. Aspen realized she did not want to talk about the possible harmful side effects. Now that she was eighteen, her one living mentor had fet the need to pile on all the possbilities and expectation of young Victors and yeah…

“I admit, I do not want to even think about what the arena holds.” Special games, special arena, right? “I mean look at the first two quells…”

“Better to stay focused, right?” he says, finishing her sentence. That was a good sign at least, if she actually wanted to focus on their task at hand. Too many victors were willing to drown their sorrows in one commodity or another, it was a relief that she at least wanted to try. Zeek nods, slipping a hand into his pocket as he thinks about the upcoming arena. The young man, on the contrary, had been thinking about nothing else but the upcoming arena on the train ride to the Capitol. Despite seeing them countless times, he watched the tapes of the other Quarter Quells, but there was no guessing what it would be like this year.

A small part of him hoped it would at least be entertaining.

“It is a little scary, isn’t it?” he says, trying to empathize with her a bit. Zeek had been pretty numb to the ideas of the Games before he had even won his, and that had only gotten worse as the years have gone along. “We could probably spend hours trying to guess what it will be, and never even come close to right.”

“Not really,” Esmerelda said with a shrug of her shoulders as she glanced out the window herself. How many times had they seen the crowds on television or seen the population number in their textbooks at school. Then again, knowing and seeng were two different things she supposed. Perhaps she would feel otherwis once the parade started and they could hear the roar of the crowds

Again she shrugged. “Probably.” It wasn’t like most of them had jobs or whatever to force them into bed. It made her wonder if being used to not sleeping herself, the downside of having an infant at home, would give her some kind of advantage. “We’re big news here, haven’t you heard?” She joked.

Finn sighed internally at his tribute’s mate response, though he couldn’t exactly blame her. Given the opportunity, he would probably talk with anyone else right now. It had been awkward enough on the ride up, both had still been in shock after the Reaping. Still, he would still rather talk with her than, say, someone from another Career district. There was an expectancy of District solidarity, after all. He gives her a small laugh at her joke, rolling his eyes in a playful manner. The near celebrity status they had was bizarre, one of them was going to be dead in few days. Maybe they wanted to say they got a glimpse before anyone had, or they had a signature from the soon-to-be victor. “Too true. A couple of good looking tributes like us, I am sure we would blow them away even if it weren’t the Quarter Quell,” he says.

Monroe observed the crowds with mixed emotions. The size of them hardly phased someone who hailed from Panem’s most populous district. She felt used to weaving through packs of people headed in numerous directions. Yet, the overwhelming excitement of the Capitol citizens was what seemed unnatural. Hordes of residents in District Six congregated for the sole purpose of traveling to their next destinations. Those in the Capitol, on the other hand, formed a conglomerate that cheered on twenty-three young people to their deaths.

Therefore, she spent every moment attempting not to scowl. Monroe Zimmer felt rather vexed by her situation, and it seemed another one of the tributes felt similarly. Her brow rose, as she glanced at the male tribute near the tinted glass windows. “I don’t know, I’ve seen plenty more people gathered together before.” She shrugged, as a momentary frown crossed her lips. “If I could bet, I’d say they’ll be out there all night toasting to our imminent deaths.”

Even though the response was only lukewarm at best, Finn was still happy with it. Better to fill the void than sit alone with his own thoughts for too long. He looked back out the window, trying to take another gauge of the crowd. He couldn’t imagine even bigger one. Sure, during the Reapings each year, the crowds were pretty big, but that was the only time which he saw that many people. Though, his part of the District wasn’t exactly well populated, that did come with the wealth. The thought was grim, and his anxious smile dropped a bit, “Yeah, well, I have been thinking of doing the same. Might as well enjoy the luxuries here before we get thrown into the mix,” he says, internally cringing from his own awkwardness. He was normally never this nervous, or clumsy with his words. “I’m Finn, from District One. What about you?” he asks. He had avoided the Reapings entirely, so he had no idea who the other tributes were.

“She must be proud your dream as career would finally be fulfilled. I mean, I know how competitive things can get in district 1 and 2, you know?” He commented. Finnick tilt his head to the right side like a curious bird when the man started talking about his wife. He had to admit that deep inside he was sorry about him. Yet, he couldn’t openly showed it.The only way he had to protect people around him was to pretend his head was full of air. 

The capitol is losing its touch… 

Finnick wondered if the Capitol was going to keep this way. He honestly didn’t see a point about making grown ups fight to death. It was less shocking. There was nothing better for the Capitol to rub on the district faces what they could make their kids do…

“I suppose that is a plus, those years spent at the academy weren’t a waste after all,” he says, smiling tightly. The only reason Finn ever went to the academy in the first place was for the social standing. His family never struggled for food, and it wasn’t like he actually ever wanted to volunteer for the games. No, he used it for popularity, proving that he was good enough for at least some level of attention. Though, he supposed he was glad now that he had done that training, since it would actually give him a chance. 

Finn took another swig of his drink, finishing the glass easily with barely any effect. “Though, I can’t imagine District One is any more competitive than District Four.”