Just a girl from Nine

TASK 002 - TRIBUTE PARADE

Similar to the sting of a recently removed bandage, Reed felt an unpleasant prick at the Tribute Tower. The roof reminded him of moments shared with a fiery redhead. The preparation area for the parade refreshed his memory of ensembles Acacia designed for the Robles twins. Seven’s quarters prompted thoughts of how the bedroom his sister stayed in now housed someone else. What made matters worse was that someone else was one of the two tributes meant to heed his advice. How could he mentor others with incessant memories of the Quarter Quell seeped into his head?

He weaved through the preparation area to catch his tributes before the parade, but Reed swiftly became distracted. The newest victor stopped to stroke a horse’s mane. A watery smile crossed his features, as he petted the horse’s neck and allowed his mind to wander. Even horses reminded him of Ten, including little Shiloh and the brother he accidentally butchered. The smile faltered with the memory of Beau Williams, though Reed managed to maintain a warm demeanor as someone approached.

“Do you think the horses like doing this? They cart around tributes year after year, but most of the attention isn’t on them. I wonder if they ever get jealous.” He commented, continuing to pet the horse.

“I think...” Arista paused as she pulled a carrot out of her bag, since her dress had no pockets, and fed it to one of the horses. “They like the treats they receive after they cart the tributes around.” She noted as she gave the magnificent creature an affectionate pat. Her horse certainly seemed more motivate to do anything if there was a promise of food for a reward.

As for his next question, Arista gave pause. “You know, I think it probably depends on the horse. Kind of like some humans are more prone to jealousy than others...” It seemed like a logical conclusion. Her horse didn’t seem to get jealous, but she had witnessed peoples’ dogs and cats get jealous of when they pay attention to someone else.

Well this woman wasn’t her stylist. She folded her arms over her chest, full of attitude which was formed only by the walls she put up to protect herself. “Maggie.” She replied, a frown forming over her lips. “I don’t wear stuff like this at home.” It was nicer than anything she’d ever even laid eyes on, that didn’t make it any less itchy though.

“It’s nice to meet you Maggie,” Arista told the girl with a smile. Every part of her wanted to frown with the knowledge of what awaited this child, but she didn’t want to scare her. Maggie would find so much in the world soon to scare her, Arista wanted to offer her some comfort while she could. The children were always the hardest.

She nodded. “To be honest, none of us do.” In the Victors got dressed in elaborate clothing they would never wear otherwise. “These clothes aren’t very practical, are they? But, after the parade you can change into something more comfortable. I certainly prefer my own clothes to these.”

“Stupid.” She muttered, itching at her freshly waxed leg with the toe of one shoe and fidgeting with the dark and dusky material of the dress she’d been forced into. All she wanted to do was go back home, to Theo, to hold him and cuddle him. Who would do that while she was gone, when she was gone? He was only two, he couldn’t take care of himself and Maggie knew from experience that her parents wouldn’t take care of him. 

“When can I take this stupid thing off?” She huffed, hearing someone approach and turning to face them assuming it was the horrid woman who’d put it on her in the first place.  

“In a little bit,” she assured the girl figuring she was one of the tributes though Arista did not recall which. Her own tributes had demanded most of her attention and after last year, she was determined to try and prepare them a little better. Arista had learned many things over the winter, but it didn’t mean she could deny someone that needed a little help. She had been terrified as a tribute and she had been fifteen, clearly older than the girl before her.

Arista smiled softly at the girl. “It all goes by rather fast. When they make me wear something I don’t want to or don’t like, I try not to think about it.” It didn’t solve the problem but it usually helped. “My name is Arista, what’s yours?”

Reed chuckled softly and envisioned what District Nine must like look in January. His own district experienced substantial cold in the dead of winter, but he learned to treasure it. Perhaps throwing snowballs and challenging his classmates to lick icicles also helped during his youth. “Aw, c’mon. It can’t be that bad, can it?” He jested with a warm smile. “You’ll be wishing for this when summer rolls back around, and we’re in the Capitol.”

His expression became far more solemn with Arista’s words. While Reed often attempted not to let the Quarter Quell faze him, it seemed nearly impossible after losing those he cared about most. “That’s what I’ve been trying to do, but it’s hard. I think I’ve been focusing a lot of energy on trying to navigate this house and the Victors’ Village.” A soft sigh escaped his lips at those words. “A bonfire sounds pretty great about now, huh? Maybe we’ll have one somewhere around here tonight after all the formal stuff, if the Peacekeepers let us.” Burning the district’s hottest commodity never sat quite right with their officers.

“Tell Soleli to keep her chin up. It’ll be warmer before both of you know it.” Reed chuckled softly. “I tried to count once or twice after the Games, but I never got over one hundred. I don’t know, it took me a really long time to get that far, and I don’t think anyone wants to leave me alone in the forest for long. I swear Rowan found me in record time, but maybe I’m just not trying as hard to hide anymore. What’s the point?”  

Arista had to laugh because a part of her would be wishing for this moment in the summer, but not for the weather. She would be wishing for the solace of the moment spent talking to a friend and the safety of District Nine. The Capitol was about as safe for Victors as it was for tributes, as Reed was bound to find out, eventually. He would probably have a few years before the Capitol started asking for demands. Arista had gone many years without demands being placed on her plate because of her age, but she was neither young nor naive anymore. This year was bound to be different.

“It’s a lot to get used to for sure,” she agreed. Similar to Nine, she wasn’t sure District Seven had much going on in Victor’s Village, but Johanna had won only a few years ago. “I hope you get to have a bonfire,” Arista said happily. She found her best memories were sitting around the fire and listening to her father tell story after story. “My dad loves to tell stories around the fire as we would roast the corn if the harvest was good and if we were real lucky, make some popcorn.” A real treat around District Nine when you could get it. “Have you ever had popcorn?”

Arista had to laugh. “Oh, it’ll be spring before long here.” Arista frowned at the thought because she didn’t much like spring. Fall was more her favorite. In the spring came the tumultuous storms District Nine was famous for. “There is no point,” she pointed out with a frown. As a Victor someone was always watching over you, good or bad. “But your family is probably worried about you.”

Oh, well... She thought as she dialed the number and hoped for the best. What was the worse that could happen? It wasn’t like she could accidentally call President Snow or something.

“Hello?” Arista asked as she heard another voice on the phone. “I have the wrong number, don’t I?” Arista asked with an awkward laugh hoping she hadn’t interrupted whoever was on the other end of the phone too much.

@imjcne​​

PRESIDENT CORIOLANUS SNOW’S LUNCHEON

"I wonder if the snow loves the trees and fields, that it kisses them so gently? And then it covers them up so snug, you know, with a white quilt; and perhaps it says, ‘Go to sleep, darlings, till summer comes again.’”

The Victory Tour came and went, but the home in the Village still felt unfamiliar. Reed exited the structure each morning only to recall how sumptuous it felt once more. The Village home contained more space in the kitchen than his old home possessed in total. It included a mahogany staircase to reach a second floor Reed and his siblings never had growing up. For once, the Robles family did not feel cramped, as they all roamed the house. It almost felt too spacious between them, which was only amplified by missing one of their own. She perished in the very arena Reed Robles managed to survive.

Reed stared at the telephone suspiciously while it rang. The device came with the house, but like everything else in the vicinity, he was still warming up to its presence. He approached the phone warily before extended a long arm to answer the call. “Hello?” Upon hearing Arista’s voice on the other side, the telephone seemed less strange and a bit more familiar. He enjoyed speaking with the other victors whom understood his current struggles.

“Hey, Arista, how’s it hanging?” Reed chuckled with a bright smile. “Today’s an alright day, I guess. A little better than yesterday, but it still sucks. Just getting ready for the lunch for ole Snow. Everyone’s making a big fuss around it here.” He replied, shrugging his shoulders naturally. “How’s life in Nine? Have you been out riding lately?” District Nine had been a highlight of his Victory Tour due to Arista’s insistence that they went horseback riding. She had also been right about the stars in her home district all along.

Arista couldn’t help the smile that blossomed on her face at the sound of Reed’s voice, because it meant he was okay. The first year was the hardest in a lot of ways, but the easiest in others. At fifteen it had seemed unbearable to her and she had not experienced the horrors of having survived a sibling in The Games. “Well, I think I have officially turned into an icicle.” She joked. “This has been one of the worse winters I can remember.”

She was quiet for a moment as she listened to Reed talk as she wasn’t sure she could bring herself to promise him it would get easier. It wouldn’t. “Sometimes, all you can do is take it one day at a time and enjoy the good moments when they come.” There still were days she had to remind herself there was good in the world and that she was bigger than what happened to her; that she needed and wanted to be a bright spot in the world. “Yeah, these events tend to make everyone a bit crazy. It’ll be a cozy fit here having to be inside where it’s warm, but there’s not many of us to be there anyhow.” District Nine wasn’t exactly swimming in Victors. “The people will probably build fires outside which actually sounds more fun,” she admitted with a laugh. Bonfires were a popular past time in both winter and summer.

“Only a little bit. It’s a bit cold for Soleli to be out long,” with a frown because she did take joy in getting to ride every day. “How about you, still counting all those trees?”

Annie liked Arista more than most other people. that was why she smiled when she saw the ID, even though she hadn’t smiled in weeks. she propped up her phone so she could knit as they chatted. right now, she was knitting an extra large blanket. it was one of her tricks for when she wanted to pretend she wasn’t stressed out. Blankets took a long time to make, so when she was knitting constantly she’d still finish it in about the same time it took her to normally knit a scarf or socks.

and the idea of needing to be perfect in a meeting with the president… it was a lot. why didn’t he just bring her some new ‘medication’ for her ‘illness’ like he tended to do? a gesture of goodwill without actually having to publicize miss crazy. she wished she wasn’t invited. “yes! very well.” her voice was strained, though, and the smile fell. “sorry. a lie. I want to be… crab.” she wanted to curl up under a shell, bury herself in the sand, and hide away. she pulled the finished blankets around her tighter to illustrate that notion. she wanted to curl up in a fuzzy covering and just hide hide hide.

“you?”

Arista listened quietly for a moment because she didn’t need to ask Annie what she meant. They all knew what it was like to be show dogs, dragged out whenever the Capitol had an agenda to push or some event meant to be a distraction. District Four she had to imagine was one of the highlights for a lot of people in the Capitol considering they were a Career District, had plenty of Victors, and was generally looked favorable on. 

“It’ll be alright,” she assured her friend. It was only one day, a few hours. “Just think of something else or plan your next knitting project.” With so many Victors Annie could just show up and push through it. “It won’t take very long and then you can go home and be a crab.” Hopefully, then she wouldn’t be bothered until the Games rolled around and could get a reprieve.

Arista shrugged even though she knew her friend could not see the gesture. “Alright. It is not a nice winter...” The weather in Nine could be unpredictable and once in a while they had a harder winter than normal. The last one had been the winter after her father had died... “It certainly leaves a lot of time for indoor activities like music and reading.” Truthfully, she had been spending a lot of time at the clinic tending to colds, cases of the flu and frostbite, but Arista didn’t trust the Capitol not to be listening to their conversations. 

“Hi Reed, it’s Arista.” She told him happily as she heard his voice on the line. “How are you doing?” It was a simple question but she knew it was also the most complex question she could ask him.

@robleisms​​

Instead she found herself calling Annie, hoping to find her friend well and safe in District Four. The new year had ushered in a period of snow and cold on her end. “Annie! How are you? Keeping well I hope!”

@wavesofcresta​​

“Course I do. I can probably count the number of people I can really talk to on my hands. Maybe even one hand.” Lincoln shrugged with a smile. Three years of journeying to the Capitol taught him to be precautious with expressing his most frightened emotions. The Capitol citizens certainly would not understand the terrors that snuck into his dreams and transformed them into nightmares. Arista, on the other hand, he could count on.

“Me too. It’s strange how I never grew up having one, but I don’t know where I’d be without it now.” Lincoln noted, as he continued handling the spear in his grasp. Frankly, he leaned on all his victor friends for support. This extended to the ones in other districts like Arista whom he felt compelled to check on from time to time. A lot of good or bad things could happen in the period between Games’ years, after all.

“Okay, maybe a little bit. I’m still trying to figure out this whole modesty versus egomania thing.” He chuckled, watching her curiously as she weaved the dried leaves. His self-importance had been too magnanimous before the 72nd Games, but now excessive humility took its place at times. “Sometimes I think using a bow requires a lot more thought than using one of these. You don’t have to aim nearly as much.” He chuckled, gesturing to the spear in his hand. Lincoln was a decent shot, but he preferred closer combat.

“How about we make a deal? I’ll teach you something about weapons, and you can show me something about herbs or needles?” Lincoln proposed with a raised brow. “I can go first. Holding a weapon like a sword or spear is all about finding its center of gravity first. Once you find the point of balance, it becomes a lot easier to hold.” He shared, holding the spear horizontally in his hand and balancing it in his palm after finding the center.

“I don’t think you have to worry about it Lincoln,” Arista assured him because she wasn’t sure he was the type to be egotistical about things. People just assumed that because he was from a Career District, but the Lincoln she knew was far from any of those things people would assume he was. “Yes, but the bow felt less intimidating,” Arista admitted. It was silly now, but it was how she had felt as a tribute standing in the training center that first day.

She nodded. “Deal.” She didn’t have to think twice about it because she wanted to learn as much as she wanted to share her knowledge with Lincoln. “There are a lot of useful herbs for headaches and simple ailments that could help you at home.” Arista was able to take some Capitol medicine back for her little make-shift clinic back home, but it wasn’t nearly enough and she couldn’t risk drawing the attention of the Capitol.

Arista picked up one of the smaller swords that she could handle without looking completely useless. “So just find a balance and then what...?”

KyAnne too gave a small chuckle, though the smile that resulted didn’t reach her eyes, as she thought about the tiny terror that was Valkaryie Quartz. “It can be.” Helping Trixanna with Val made KyAnne often wonder what life would’ve been like had she told her parents off and kept the child she’d had when she was only a teenager, or wonder what her daughter was like now at twenty years old. “But I wouldn’t change it for the world.” She spoke up, shoving those recurring thoughts to the wayside. 

The mention of taking the two horses for a ride caused KyAnne to pause for a moment. She hadn’t been riding in years. But after a moment, she turned to put the brush back where she’d found it. “Sure.” She dusted her hands off of whatever imaginary dust was there. Maybe it would help to clear her mind. “Maybe it’ll help clear my mind.” 

“I find it is one of the best ways to do so,” Arista told KyAnne as she reached for the saddle resting on the nearby stall door. “Gives me a reason to be outside too.” Not that she needed much of that in Nine between the clinic and the garden she kept. “I like riding at night but that’s not such a good idea.” The Peacekeepers had been pretty strict lately with the curfew and wandering around at night had never been a safe venture for a girl in District Nine.

“I wish you could see the stars here...” The Capitol lights made that all but impossible. Arista was quiet a moment as she finished saddling up the horse and as she pulled herself up into the saddle. This horse wasn’t her own, but it was a fine creature nonetheless. “So, are you ready to go back home to District Ten?”

“Me too. I see you found my hiding place.” Lincoln chuckled with a shrug. “This place always seems to clear out after the training period ends. I really only see Avox cleaning or an occasional Peacekeeper. I try to keep my distance from Peacekeepers, and Avox obviously don’t have much to say.” The young man acted cordial with both parties when they crossed paths, but they never fell into any easy pattern. “But it’s much better being in the company of someone I actually don’t mind talking to.” A gentle smirk crossed his lips.

The smirk quickly dissipated at the gravity of Arista arriving to a lonely Victor’s Village in District Nine. Lincoln could not fathom having survived over the past three years without constant support from Four’s other mentors. Finnick, Harper, Annie, and even Mags sheltered him in moments of doubt. “At least we have the phones.” He knew it would be nowhere the near the same. Lincoln also wondered if the Capitol monitored their calls.

A chuckle escaped his lips, and he shrugged with a glance around the gymnasium. “Amazing skills, huh? I don’t know who’s been lying to you.” He replied with a chuckle. “No, I’m pretty good with weapons like spears, tridents, nets, and swords.” Lincoln offered, approaching one of the abandoned weapons racks and twirling the shaft of a spear effortlessly in his hands. “But give me a needle or some herbs, and I’m lost.” 

Arista gave him a smile. “Well, I am glad you count me as someone you can talk to.” To be honest, Arista wasn’t sure what she would do if Lincoln wasn’t there to talk to. She liked all the Victors, but it was nice to have someone her own age that understood what it was like and all the other unpleasantries that went with their situation.

While Lincoln worked out, Arista couldn’t help but pull the basket of dried leaves, leftover from the training period onto her lap, and started weaving them. “I am glad we have phones.” It was the one saving grace about being a Victor. She could still talk to her friends whenever she needed them. Besides, she had her horse and her work to keep her company. It made her think that she needed to start getting out a little more.

“Lying? I think you’re just being modest Lincoln,” Arista told him as she looked up from her work for a moment. “It was an accomplishment for me to even pull the bowstring back let alone shoot the arrow straight,” she said with a laugh recalling the disastrous moments of her training period. Part of her wondered if she should learn now? “Oh, well lucky for you I know someone that’s very skilled with both herbs and needles,” she told Lincoln with a laugh.

“So... teach me something,” Arista said after a moment jumping to her feet. “How do you even hold some of these weapons?” She was supposed to be there working out after all.

KyAnne offered a small smile at the other’s comment as she gently reached to stroke the muzzle of the horse she’d joined in the stall. “Hey bud.” It was little more than a whisper to the animal as she moved around to his side. “A bit perhaps. Though they don’t leave their toys all over the house.” She offered, thinking of the constant mess of toys that seemed to have taken over Trixanna’s home in Two. 

At the question of her having horses, she paused in her gentle strokes of the horse’s furt for a moment. “I used to.” Though she didn’t anymore. They’d really been her parents’ horses and whens he won she’d cut all ties. “But I haven’t had one in years. I usually go visit the…” Another pause, this time in her voice as she wavered on the end of her sentence. “I visit the rodeo when I want to see the horses.” Though, now she didn’t even know what would come of the rodeo back in Ten with both Shiloh and Beau gone. 

Arista had to laugh because she imagined kids left a lot of things all over. “Sounds like chaos,” she admitted. Her house was neat as a pin, her father had preferred their house to be neat and tidy and Arista had inherited it from him. “Though I mean that in a good way.” Having lived alone since the age of fourteen, Arista could hardly imagine what it would be like to have anyone in her space. “It’s so quiet some nights I play the piano for some noise to keep me company,” she admitted with a laugh.

She frowned knowing where the older Victor’s thoughts were going. “I am sorry about your tributes.” Arista had met Shiloh only once but the girl had been a bright and sunny spot on a normal dismal day following the reapings and harsh reality kids were going to die. “Want to take these ones for a ride?” Arista had been debating the idea since she came into the stables. “I doubt anyone will pay attention with the finale so fastly approaching...” To be honest she just wanted a chance to get away from the whole Games atmosphere for a while.

Ivory laughed softly, “I doubt they do. It’s an interesting group on my floor. I definitely don’t see eye to eye with some of them!” Ivory would be first to admit career victors, like career tributes, could be touchy to deal with. The egos, prestige and constant need to draw attention was suffocating. She had her close knit group of friends, those who mentored her to victory and supported her after. Others she didn’t bother to converse with too frequently. “Some of my fellow District 1 victors can be a bit too much to handle.” She smirked. 

Arista’s question about One caught Ivory’s attention. “I love One… It certainly wasn’t my favorite place when I was young. But now, as shallow as it sounds. I love the glamour. Liking fashion and jewelry, it’s not a bad place to call home. But sometimes, I think I wouldn’t mind a simpler life. I was drawn to districts like yours. The wide open spaces. It was calming. I remember that from my victory tour.”

“You do have an interesting mix for sure,” Arista agreed with a laugh although she had not talked too much with District One Victors. Most of them did not seem all that interested in knowing a young Victor from District Nine or perhaps they were just busy. The Capitol did keep them very busy while they were there and dealing with the various aspects of The Games. “Though have you ever talked to the other Victor from Nine?” Arista asked with a laugh figuring she hadn’t. If she saw her mentor it was usually with Haymitch joking about things she didn’t understand.

Arista nodded as she listened to Ivory talk. “You’re allowed to like the glamor without sounding shallow.” Otherwise wouldn’t it make her shallow for liking to dress up from time to time? “I certainly enjoy getting to wear nice things from time to time.” In her head, District One was a place where it was okay to be dolled up and all the people looked like they stepped out of a fashion magazine. Not in the crazy manner of the Capitol, but a more practical sophisticated kind of style. In Nine, no one could afford such things, even for the reaping, so it made you an outsider or one of them if you dressed up. Even Arista who dressed simply, wore minimal makeup on a normal day, and took time to bread her hair into some kind of hairstyle looked out of place.

“Oh! It’s fantastic!” Arista exclaimed happily thinking of home. “The way the wheat fields shimmer in the summer and the blueness of the skies! It’s a shame the Victory tours take place in the winter.” District Nine didn’t get snow all the time but it was gray, depressing, and bitterly cold when the Tours came through. “Who knows, you might be coming to visit again soon!” District One still had their girl in the fight. Buckingham was the only Career left outside District Four, so she had a good shot.

TASK 005 -- FAMILY INTERVIEWS

Arista pulled her blanket tighter around her petite form as she listened to the raindrops hit the window in a soft rhythmic tapping. If she closed her eyes she could almost imagine she was back home listening to the song of a light summer rain, but alas, she was not at home. If the window was open she would have been able to hear the murmur of the excited crowd as the finale of the Quarter Quell drew closer and closer.

On the television was the usual chatter about Victors and tributes alike. Now that the field was narrowed to eight, the crowd waited with bated breath for the family interviews. It was Panem’s chance to get to know their possible Victor a little more. That was the thing about the people of Panem, they always wanted to know more. They wanted to know your secrets, your desires, your fears, your plans, and even your dreams. It was like they exposed every thread that weaved the fabric of your being.

Truthfully, she had often thought about what her own interview should have been had her father still been alive. What would he have said? He would have been so charismatic on the screens Panem would have loved him with his big amber eyes, sandy hair, and an easy smile. Arista couldn’t help but smile at the memory of her father.

Arlo Baize would have said...