"What's your name again?" Maven asked, as she spared a glance to the stoic boy next to her. Her fingers drummed against the white tablecloth.
The District Eight escort, who she learned was named Crinoline, had gone off to find their mentor, after directing them to the train's dining car.
From the couches, to the rugs, to tapestries, the room was rich in fabrics. Maven wondered if this was designed in homage to Eight. Her district was responsible for producing textiles, so it was likely that everything had originated there.
Her partner continued to sit in silence.
Maven's lip quirked into a scowl. This had not been her first attempt to sway the boy into conversation. Not that she wanted to get friendly with him, exactly. After all, his reaction after being Reaped made him look weak. It made her week by extension. He was already a liability and they had not even made it to the Capitol yet. The boy was sure to die in the upcoming weeks.
But Maven tried to engage with him, because she simply hated silence. Always had.
A woman walked with a warm smile, "Morning, kiddos."
Her name was Leeme and she was the only living District Eight victor.
'Good morning, you have been selected for the pleasure of battling to the death on live television.' Maven smiled in amusement, as she took a sip from her cup. "That's an odd thing to say," she remarked.
"Well I didn't say it was a good one. Did I?" Leeme poured herself a cup of tea.
Fair enough.
Drinking tea was common in Eight. It was easy to wander out into the meadows and find the right leaves. However, the painted teacup that Leeme handled with such practice was not.
Maven wanted the mentor to take her seriously. This woman would be responsible for getting her sponsors. You could be a charismatic killing machine, but without sponsors, you were already dead. "I'm Maven." She stated with authority. She met Leeme's eyes.
Leeme's smile dropped, "I know your name, Maven," the woman looked at the other tribute, "and Draze. It means nothing, but I am sorry that this has happened to the two of you."
She let out a laugh, "Well, it cannot possibly be as bad as last year."
Maven would not say that she had an aversion to violence or witnessing violence. But last year. Last year was something else entirely.
She dabbed her lip with a napkin, "I for one am counting my blessings."
Draze bit at his lower lip. He cannot possibly cry again. He already had after Crinoline told them to "eat and enjoy".
Leeme rescued the boy, "let's please not talk about last year."
Maven recognized that Leeme was probably right. The 74th Hunger Games was taboo to talk about, even in Eight. It would be bad of her to slip and risk a Capitolian overhearing her.
No one was to discuss the 24 dead children or the Gamemaker, whose severed head was sent on the Victory Tour.
Crinoline had been relatively quiet during this entire exchange. Maven found this odd. She had always thought the woman as bubbly on-stage, but at this moment, she looked like she was about to fall asleep.
"After you two eat a bit more, we can retire to the film car and watch the Reapings," Leeme smiled down at them. She cut a bite of steak and plopped it into her mouth.
"How did you win?" Draze blurted out. His eyes had gone wide.
"He speaks," Maven giggled with a smirk.
He shot her a look. And glares, apparently.
How thankful she was to have a partner that had no sense of humor and appeared to hate her.
Leeme held a finger up to them, a signal to wait, as she finished chewing her food.
The table sat in silence for a few seconds, before Maven decided to answer for her. "She hid under a bush for the entirety of the Game and then bashed the last tribute's skull in with her canteen."
Maven paused, before adding, "while he was sleeping," after a thought.
Preoccupied with having another sip of her drink, Maven missed Leeme's flinch. The liquid was pink and sweet, yet sour at the same time. She liked it.
After being met with silence, Maven looked up. "Right?" She asked, faux-sweetly.
Crinoline hid her face, behind her napkin, but it didn't disguise the upturned lines of her mouth.
"I-" Leeme sucked in a breath. Her mouth kept opening, as if to form words, but nothing came out.
Maven began to regret her comment. It was too good of an opening, but it wouldn't push her mentor to like her more.
"That was uncalled for," Draze said quietly. He looked down to his lap.
Maven pursed her lips. He had been the one to ask Leeme about her Game.
Leeme met his eyes and nodded in thanks.
Maven tried to not roll her eyes.
She tried to move the conversation along. "What advice would you give us, in terms of strategy?" The word advice was used lightly. After all, Leeme won because she had been so unbearably boring that the Gamemakers and tributes forgot about her existence, up until she was in the final two. Maven scrunched her nose at the thought. It wasn't exactly a strategy.
The mentor did not hesitate. "Keep your humanity."
Draze looked at her in a way that made Maven know that he intended to take that to heart. He would not take a life and for that reason, he would die.
--
Unlike the training scores reveal, the district Reapings were not moderated by one of the Capitol's tv hosts like Caesar Flickerman.
Leeme, Draze, and Maven sat silently through the introduction video. It was just as dull as it had been that morning.
With all of the money the Capitol had, Maven thought that they could invest a bit more money into the production. It was boring and drab. If that video was the sole thing responsible for keeping peace in the nation, then there would have been a Second Rebellion ages ago.
Maven sighed loudly, from the cushy chair, she had claimed. It was pretty pink in color and she seemed to shrink into the cushions.
Her district mates were talking on the couch. Their voices were too low to hear.
She swung her legs over one end of the chair and her head over the other. "...Panem today, Panem tomorrow, Panem forever," Maven parroted along, while she ran a hand through her straight hair.
She had taken pride in her curls that morning. Last night, she had slept with them in metal rods, called curlers, which was unformatable but decidedly worth it. Especially since she had been Reaped. The little extra care that had gone into her hair would make her most desirable to sponsors.
The other conversation had apparently lulled.
Maven knew without looking that Draze would be shooting her a look. The boy had a problem with every word Maven said. Why not have some fun with him?
She rolled her body, so that she was kneeling sideways in her chair, and leaned towards him. The blonde tugged at a strand of her hair. Maven peaked up at Draze from under her lashes, "that's my favorite part," she whispered breathlessly, in reference to her comment that had set him off.
She knew her goal was achieved, when his eyes seemed to bug.
Maven grinned in triumph. "I'm kidding, of course," she directed to Leeme, helpfully.
The victor muttered something that sounded a lot like "are you?"
That was the big question, wasn't it. Was she?
The video screen had cut to a commercial, which was advertising some film from the Olden Days, about a girl, who gave her baby brother away to a monster. It looked boring.
But Maven imagined that if she were that girl, then she would never have made that mistake. She could not imagine anything more despicable than abandoning family.
"It's starting," Draze clenched his fists.
District One was first, as always. When it came to districts One and Two, the names that were pulled from the glass bowls were irrelevant. In every game Maven had ever seen, two people would volunteer for the spots. It was an honor in those districts. The ultimate reward, after dedicating your childhood to becoming the perfect machine.
District Ones tributes were known for their lethal charm. Something that had made Maven secretly root for their tributes in almost every game.
Her favorite victor was from One: Cashmere.
The 15 year old had made a high personal training score, but was written off as a ditzy flirt in her interview. Once the games had begun, she stayed below the radar in her alliance, letting her partner and a girl from Two take the leadership roles.
"Career packs", which was the name Eight had for the alliances that would almost always form between One and Two, stuck together until they had hunted down every other tribute. After that point, the pack had served its purpose. From there it was a quick battle to the death.
But, Cashmere had taken a different route in her Game. That night, the pack had eliminated all but two tributes. They had been giddy. Jokes and stories were exchanged. Maven was pretty sure that someone had even danced around the fire. Everything had been going perfect, until Cashmere tricked the boy from Two to go with her into the woods. She had been making eyes at him, since the Tribute Parade. By this point, he had one thing on his mind. But so did Cashmere.
He let his guard down and she broke a rock over his head. He was unconscious, but not dead. A smart move, because if a cannon had gone off, she would have never succeeded in what she did next.
Cashmere waited around, until the rest of the alliance had fallen asleep. First, she slit her partner's throat, before battling it out with the girl from Two. After killing her, she went back to the unconscious boy and made quick work of him. The three most lethal tributes died in the timeframe of twenty minutes.
From there, Cashmere easily hunted down the last two tributes. She was crowned the next morning.
Maven had liked Cashmere during her Game. She grew to love her after she started working. They had been the same age you see. Cashmere won at 15, Maven worked at 15. Everytime she would rewatch those Games, she saw a girl that was not much different from her. She noted the extra stabs Cashmere had plunged into the boy from Two's chest. Even after the canon had gone off, she had not stopped. That was someone else who had also been written off. Someone else who had also been looked at like no more than a toy.
Cashmere got the last laugh.
There she was now. On the video screen, the now twenty year old stood amongst her fellow victors. A proud smile on her face.
Maybe if Cashmere was selected to mentor, Maven would get to see her in real-life.
Shocking to no one, a boy and a girl volunteered.
Dimity and Quartz. Dimity was a tall girl with long inky braids. She smiled in gratitude when her district applauded her. Her partner was a slimmer than the usual tribute from One, but he had a large scar running over his face that made it clear he was prepared for the fight.
"Your typical careers then," Leeme wrote off.
Draze looked tense, "do you think it's true? What they say about One and Two?"
"What about them?" Maven asked. She eyed her partner.
"That they have to have already killed someone, in order to be considered ready to volunteer."
Maven's mouth formed an O shape.
She had never heard that before, but then again, even if it had been common knowledge amongst her classmates, there was no way that one of them would have told her.
The rumor was believable. No tribute from either district had ever appeared to struggle with their first kill.
From a strategic perspective, it also made sense. Hesitation was what got the majority of tributes killed in the bloodbath. If a district only sent in experienced killers, they were bound to have more victors.
Or it could be total lies. Made up by the outlier districts to warrant why they lost so many tributes to One and Two.
Cheers cried out from the screen.
"Fuck this," Draze grounded out. He got up and left the car.
Maven's head shot towards the screen in curiosity. She had lost focus during her mental rant. District Two's tributes were both on the stage.
Maven knew why Draze had stormed out.
Danger was the word that came to mind.
The boy was massive. He towered over the escort and his partner, and even some of the previous victors, who stood behind him. He also had a look on his face that showed pure excitement.
The camera angle switched and for a moment the tribute was bathed in the light of the sun. His golden hair shined. But the most striking thing about him was the way the light made his light eyes look inhuman. Beautiful.
It was a shame that over the course of the Games, he would probably die.
The petite girl looked just as intimidating. Dark hair, dark grin. The way she turned her head around made it appear that she was already looking for a fight.
The two tributes locked eyes with each other and the boy seemed to beam. The girl let out a loud echoing laugh, in response.
They were breathtaking and ready to kill.
Maven almost felt bad for District Three for having to be the follow-up act to Two. Potential sponsors, who would be watching the tapes would immediately disregard them. Eyes still partially blinded from Two.
Two districts to always note were Seven and Ten. The lumber and livestock districts.
Both districts had their children working from a young age with axes and knives. While not exactly the killing academies from One and Two, their kids were still trained to do damage.
How many differences could there be from axing down trees and slaughtering animals to doing the same to tributes?
Johanna Mason was a lesson not bound to be forgotten anytime soon. The year after her win, Seven's kids were the first to die.
This was pretty common for any year after an outlying district won. The others picked them off, almost as if in punishment.
Seven's tribute was a strong looking girl and boy. She added them to her mental list of threats, along with One and Two.
District Ten had a sly looking boy and a little girl. The boy made her wary, but the girl was so young. She could not have been older than 13, so Maven disregarded her, after giving herself five seconds to pity the thing.
When it finally came Twelve's turn, Maven sat up straight in her seat. The entirety of Panem was probably doing the same. After last year's disaster, it was expected.
As always the tributes appeared starved and depressed.
The girl was frail and crying.
Maven was reminded of her crying partner. Maybe Draze could make a little girlfriend, before the Games began.
The boy from Twelve was not much better, but he at least had some height to him.
A boy shouldered his way through the crowd. "I volunteer!"
Oh shit.
He was tall and surprisingly sturdy. He stomped his way up the stairs and proclaimed his name to be Kohl.
He paid no mind to his partner or the boy he had replaced. He stood out with a grim look on his face. Why would he volunteer?
Maven shivered.
Leeme nodded over to her. "In case, it wasn't obvious, that boy-" she pointed to the screen, "-will be a problem."
That was the first that Maven had heard her mentor say that she agreed with.
--
The announcement came during dinner.
Maven had been in the middle of buttering a gooey roll, when the power cut off. It was only for half a second, but she still shrieked. Then flushed in embarrassment.
The video screen lit up. A man with long pink hair greeted them. "Good evening, Panem. My name is Marcellus Jackal. It is my great pleasure to announce that for the 75th Annual Hunger Games, a twist will be in play. It has been a time honored tradition that the Capitol allows one tribute to walk out from the celebratory pageant known as the Hunger Games. A tribute spared for every year the games have been played. A show of mercy, if you will. In acknowledgment of last year's Game, the honorable Capitol will keep that promise. We now announce that two victors may emerge from this year's games."
Maven's jaw dropped.
The man continued, "expect great things from this year's Games. I assure you that there will never be another Quell like it."
Maven was still frozen in shock, but Leeme seemed to snap out of her own shock quickly. "Well we knew that there would be a twist."
"Can't say that I expected this one, though."
Leeme nodded in agreement. She looked wary now, "I would wager that this will not be the only twist we will hear about." She looked back at Maven. "According to the whispers in the Capitol, Marcellus Jackal is not a man to be taken lightly. He is said to specialize in Arena design."
Maven clenched her fingers in her dress. There was no need for Leeme to explain what that meant. Her and the other tributes were to be put straight into Hell.
----
And let the Games begin!!
NEXT UP! The tribute parade
In case it wasn't clear, the only canon tributes are Clove and Cato, while everyone else is a figment of my imagination. I really wanted to include Glimmer and Marvel, but I have some ideas about a story of their own. So if anyone would be interested in that, let me know or give me a follow!
As always, I loved to chat, so drop some comments, I'll definitely respond