“How long will this go on for?” Leander worriedly asked, as he watched the gravity levels in the Arena go haywire. Tributes were being flung in all directions, at some moments flying while at other points they were smacked back down to the ground as though something had held them up and decided to drop them again. Pepper and Hazel were still doing well enough, but no one could ever be sure when the Gamemaker influence was so dangerous. “Has anyone-” He looked down at his tablet, his tributes’ vitals brightly displayed on the screen. He’d began to speak, and promptly, the vitals for the girl from District One ceased showing any sign of life. “Oh. That’s- Well, that’s unfortunate.”

.

“Quite the pair you have,” Selene said, peering over Leander’s shoulder to look at his tablet. Even she knew about the fact that both of his tributes had volunteered for some odd reason or other. Still, they’d proved to be impressive despite neither one being a Career. It was more than she could say about the tributes from Five dying merely moments into the bloodbath. “They might actually have a decent chance. To think that you just might bring home a Victor.”

Having gotten her caffeine fix and swallowed a few painkillers back, Sirena was finally becoming able to comprehend everything that had gone on that morning. Rain had died, not that Sirena had expected much from either of Four’s tributes. But more than the bloodbath casualties that she’d become accustomed to in the years since her own victory, Lysander had died for the whole nation to see. But yet, with the exception of a few screens broadcasting the updates, everything seemed to be going normally. Another voice had counted down, the tributes had still launched, the games were still televised on the majority of screens. 

Her eyes were on a screen broadcasting the same smoky rubble scene that it had been for the past couple hours when Selene spoke. Her gaze returned to her fiancée, heart melting both in her chest and behind her gaze at the worry from Selene. She reached a hand over to take one of Selene’s, thumb soothing over her fiancée’s knuckles. “As soon as the games are over,” she promised assuredly. “I don’t know that I could get away with leaving before then.” She’d never tried. 

.

It wasn’t the answer Selene wanted to hear, to say the least. And for a woman who got what she wanted more often than not, the feeling didn’t sit right with her in the slightest. Perhaps the Games would end, but another would simply start up in a few months time. Selene remembered the last time something to this extreme happened and getting shipped to Four. Even though she might have met Sirena after all was said and done, she wasn’t looking forward to the possibility of getting uprooted yet again. Losing Lysander would certainly change the Hunger Games all things considered.

“It isn’t safe. I understand that you don’t have the choice, but to think that we could be targeted just because we work for the Games,” she reasoned, more annoyed than anything. “That I might get blown up for designing a few outfits for strangers I don’t even know is ridiculous. It’s not worth dying for.”

“It’s stupid, really. I would just never forgive myself if something happened to you. It might be best if we go to Four as soon as you have a chance,” Selene explained as the news played on in the background. “Who knows where or who they’ll try and go after next.”

@shark-bcit​

Lysander Vultur was dead.

Allegedly, anyways. It was a strange thing to wrap his head around, and he numbly watched the screen in the viewing room cover the simultaneous updates from the 111th and 130th Arena.

He’d wanted this, right? Even threatened it. But he’d wanted Lysander to have to unfairly face his mortality as a tribute did, to understand the fear, the agony, the heartbreak. A sudden, unexpected death felt like an injustice.

He dug his fingers into his temples, trying to sort out his tangled emotions. Was he thrilled he was dead? Angry? Or, was he really, truly, feeling nothing at all?

.

Selene tried not to watch the mentor from Seven, but she truly believed that the young man would be ecstatic at the news of Lysander’s death. Instead, he had a rather confused look on his face. Was she missing something? Perhaps he was upset at the fact that he would be out of a job if they didn’t manage to find a replacement. And then what? The poor boy would probably be sent back to the lumber yards. Such a shame. “Don’t you worry,” she said. “I’m sure they’ll find someone to take over. Perhaps even Chip. They won’t send you back to Seven that easily.”

Slate had stared, dumbfounded, at the screen throughout the launch and the bloodbath. The commentators were talking about historic this was, what a huge ‘breakthrough’ — but all he could feel was a sickly nausea.

He had known his whole life that the government was fucking the Districts, over and over again, and that there were more resources just for the Capitol than were needed. But to see it all on this scale was sickening. He had no idea how much a fucking space launch would cost, but some quick mental math led him to the conclusion that, calculating in the test launches, the trip to the space station, and the space station itself, it was a metric fuck ton of money. It was spending on a scale that hadn’t been seen since before the Dark Days, surely.

“Well fuck all of that,” he said, his voice heated as he walked up to the screen and found the power button, turning it off.

.

Selene furrowed her brow when the screen was shut off. It was one of the most impressive arenas she had seen in her lifetime and now she couldn’t watch it. Despite the fact that her both of her tributes were now dead and she had no reason to pay attention, she still wanted to see what the Gamemakers had created and practically died for. At least Lysander knew how to go out with a bang, so to speak. “Oh, please, like you aren’t entertained. It’s incredible what they’ve done. It’s quite a shame that it’s for the Games, but impressive nonetheless.”

TASK 010. NATURAL PHENOMENA

Her jaw clenched imperceptibly. “Do you think I’d want another chance at that?” Her words were meant to be joking, but there was an edge to it as she looked to her side, at Selene. “And chance the wrath of my brother for stealing the spotlight again? Not a chance,” she force a laugh. In truth, Jeannie hadn’t even considered the fact that her name was in Eight’s reaping bowl as well. All of this, a fucking nightmare. 

.

Selene laughed at that. Even she didn’t want to upstage a showman like Hunter Twill. But that aside, Jeanine clearly had her work cut out for her. Selene had caught the reapings here and there—the girl from Thirteen had obviously risked her life to volunteer in Jeanine’s place. Oh, the woes of being one of the leading figureheads of an entire district. “Those tributes from Thirteen, I assume you know them? They seem to be quite familiar with you.”

“I’m not,” Banshee quickly clarified. She looked the woman up and down, then glanced down the hallway. “Ummmmm…” It was rude to make such noises out loud, so she quickly pressed her lips together, then asked, “Are you?” Asking people where they were from was always a good way to make someone feel comfortable. She’d never met someone from Five, though. She’d never met someone outside of residents of Eleven, until the Reaping.

.

Selene would have scoffed at the assumption, but she reminded herself that the tribute didn’t know better. Still, she couldn’t help but be a tad offended. Did Selene carry herself as if she came from the districts? She hated to think so. “I beg your pardon. I’m from the Capitol,” she corrected. “I’m merely a stylist. I assume you’re from one of those distant districts? Eight or Nine, perhaps?”

@selenehoneybell​

Cain hadn’t meant to run into Selene– not in any sense, let alone to physically bump into her. He should’ve been paying more attention to where he was walking, instead of being turned around to greet people as they passed him. “Whoops, sorry,” he apologized, already cringing about whatever lecture he’d get from the stylist. He worked to cut her off, “How’s the clothes thing going? Got big plans for Five for the parade?”

.

“Cain, must we go through this again?” Selene didn’t mean to start with the young victor, but he made it impossible to keep a level-head. He was barely the child that won so many Games ago, no, Selene expected better. “You must set an example for your tributes. Had I been Calloway, you might not have been so lucky. And don’t try to pretend that you’re interested. The last thing I need is for a teenage boy to humour me and this job.”

Chip’s eyes were closed as he lied on the bench in the garden. The setting sun felt warm, and the smell of the flowers only added to the peaceful setting. Blasting through his headphones was a song that was a mix of heavy metal and rap. It was only when he sensed a shadow pass the light that he cracked an eye open. “Sh-Should I go?” he asked, pulling an earbud out of his right ear so he could hear. “I-I can go.”

.

Just the person she wanted to see. Selene had avoided the chaos inside the tower hoping to join somebody she could actually tolerate. When Chip pulled his earbud out, Selene plucked it from his hand and put it up to her own ear. She regretted doing so once she heard the all the noise, but put on a polite smile anyways. “Well, I assume you have work to do with the other Gamemakers. What is it this time? Are you planning on loading the tributes onto a rocket and shooting them off into space? Or something related to Thirteen perhaps?”

Selene had asked herself the very same question ever since she’d stepped foot inside the stylist studio, but never once has she bothered to get a second opinion. In fact, she never needed anyone’s input as it concerned her life choices. Sirena’s just seemed to matter to her more than anybody else’s. She’d taken a position as a stylist when her family name had essentially made her an outcast. Could she still say the same now? With the upcoming wedding to one of the more beloved victor’s in the Capitol and her name on the Bentley board, it didn’t make sense that she stay a job that she hated.

“It’s rather unreasonable that I stay on as a stylist. I barely get my own clothes half the time. I pay very good money to make sure someone else takes care of that for me,” she said, a statement of fact more than anything. “Do you honestly think I should be playing babysitter to children I don’t even know? A few were the exception, but really, what am I doing?”

@shark-bcit​

TASK 007. TAGLINE

ambitious: adjective having or showing a strong desire and determination to succeed.

proud: adjective feeling deep pleasure or satisfaction as a result of one's own achievements, qualities, or possessions or those of someone with whom one is closely associated.

Perhaps she finally understood it, now. 

It hadn’t quite registered in her mind up until now, why some victor’s went straight for a bar once they had touched down in the Capitol. Now though, she was itching for a drink, if only that would ease her up a little. Her hands were still trembling, and after dropping a glass on the train, she’d stopped trying to pick up breakable things. She needed the tremble to go away, at least momentarily. 

Her own name, in Allard’s voice, continued to spook around her mind. All the while the hushed gasps of the crowd in Thirteen sounded from every corner in the Tower. Jeannie was going insane now, she must’ve been. 

“Anyone up for a drink?” She schooled her shaking voice, speaking to anyone at all familiar in the crowd around her. 

.

Selene gave Jeanine a pitiful look. Both her and Alder Reid had come out as victors just so they would get reaped once again. She would have blamed it on poetic justice if it weren’t for the fact that a part of her thought the President was behind it all. The woman was always a bit heavy-handed with these things. Selene would have felt sorry for Jeanine, but one of those followers of hers volunteered in her place instead. But, as she studied the young girl, even she was skeptical that she would one day have rule over the entire nation of Thirteen.

“Celebrating so early? If you’re looking for someone to drink with, I suggest that you find Abel,” she teased as she joined Jeanine. “So, is it true? I heard that your name is in the reaping bowls of both Eight and Thirteen. You might have a chance of being a two-time victor like your brother.”

Indy thought she’d get some privacy in a viewing room, one at the furthest reaches of one of the public floors, but she was learning quickly that there was no such thing in the Capitol. Everyone felt entitled to her space, and frankly, for a Tower so huge people were real fucking good at needing to occupy the same five square feet as she did, and it was getting irritating.  The door opened, and she snapped her notebook shut on instinct, immediately clamping her forearm down over the cover. “What the fuck do I have to do around here for a little peace and quiet?!” she shouted.

.

These tributes never failed to surprise her. It seems that they didn’t teach decorum in those district public schools. What was this young girl barking at Selene for? It wasn’t like she was the one who volunteered. No, she was just trying to find a quiet space for herself. This certainly wasn’t the way to win any favours so early on in the Games.

“I suggest you watch how you speak if you don’t know who you’re talking to,” Selene said, trying to control her tone.

Banshee had to talk to someone. She knew she did. This was a vast, slick building and she didn’t seem to know up from down. There was no dirt, no sunlight, no trees to mark how far she’d walked or when she should turn back. She’d been told something about a schedule on the train, but she didn’t remember much of it. Someone passed her in the hall, and she stopped, opening her mouth to say something. But the words caught in her throat. She didn’t know who this other person was, or what they might think of her voice, or how they might interpret her question. This was all life and death now, and not in the way she was used to. She said nothing, instead letting her jaw hang open a little as she stared at the person who passed.

.

Selene barely even looked at her tributes this Games, already losing tracking of them since they’d stepped off the train. After she’d thought so highly of Mackerel and Wattson only for the pair to die, Selene simply didn’t think it was worth the effort. Still, she had to keep up appearances that she was actually working. Seeing the girl in passing, she wondered if the tribute was one of hers. “You’re not from Five, are you? Forgive my manners but I’ve seem to have lost mine.”