Mags Diver [D4 victor] (oldmermaid) wrote in colosseum, @ 2014-03-22 00:37:00 |
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The footage on the screen lingered on Boy Nine for longer than anyone would have expected or wanted for a tribute who had done nothing but walk around looking for food at his least boring, but the reason why was obvious when the scene then switched to another camera elsewhere. The trio of volunteer girls -- One, Two, and, to everyone's surprise this year, Four -- were out hunting and about to run into his path, the small blonde girl from the luxury district in front as she pointed out the signs Boy Nine had left behind in his wake to the others. But the camera only seemed to have eyes for Mags, the brash and pretty dark-haired girl with the sea-green eyes from Four, who now charged ahead of the others with her trident in hand and a grin on her face as she tackled Boy Nine from behind. 'Surprise, Nine!' she crowed as she twirled her trident in the air before hefting it with both hands for the deathblow, teeth bared and one booted foot slammed down on his chest to pin him to the ground. 'Oh, you want this? Just like a pitchfork back home, yeah?' Without waiting for an answer, she drove the prongs of the trident through his stomach, flipping her hair over her shoulders as she stared into the dying boy's shocked face and smiled. 'Well, you can have it.' Shay's father called her name the same time the cannon went off. But her attention was focused on the screen, her features tightening in a mildly disapproving look, while Reil grimaced at the kill and the sound. Static and the image came and went, and the results of the earlier rebellion still left her frustrated and a bit disgusted. But after a decade, she also felt desensitized to it already. She glanced over to her friend, gave him an even more disapproving look since he was actually there and frowning at the projected image didn't do much. The two sat on opposite ends of the couch. It was once two vehicle seats, now modified and squished together to form a longer seat. Shay turned back to the girls, thinking that girl from District Four was crazy for volunteering, and they were crazier for watching. "Shay! You're going to be late!" "Yeah, I'm going!" She remained seated, eyes still on the screen. Her faced crinkled. "Some of them are disgusting at work," she told Reil, at her normal volume. "They have it going all the time, and they keep making gross comments about her." She jerked her head at Mags. Reil glanced over. "Hit them with something." "Maybe I will." She pushed herself off the couch. ----- With the Volunteers actively hunting and the traps responsible for the other tribute deaths, the cameras hadn't focused much on the girl from District Six. When they finally did, it was a jump-cut to her, like the editors were surprised there was any action. She appeared on screens across the country in time to slam her fist against the District Eight boy's sternum, knocking the wind out of him. He stumbled before falling back, the camera following him before pushing back, showing that the two tributes were at the area with all the abandoned trains. Shay looked pale, but she was breathing calmly. She strode towards him, grabbing his hair in her fingers and dragging him two feet to the tracks. Bracing herself against the train with her free hand, she pounded his head against the axle. Which one is that? Bolt tried to remember when the Six girl appeared on the screen before him. He watched the games for the sake of those from his own district; he vaguely remembered Pippa's win, but knew Ten was unlikely to see another anytime soon. A helpful graphic explained that she was the girl from Six, called Shay. Bolt took the graphic's word for it. He could see what was going to happen to the boy before it happened, and turned from the screen. He wasn't scared of the violence, but he didn't need to watch the way some of the masochists around him did. He headed out to the stables. The Hunger Games didn't make his work disappear, and he had things he needed to do. ----- Bloodied and bruised, the boy from 10 struggled to his feet. He faltered as the cannon blasted for the girl he'd just killed--though 'outlasted' might be a better word. District 1 was tough. Another cannon blasted only moments later, and Bolt forced himself to stand. He didn't have it in him for another fight--not immediately, at least--but he needed to know. Bolt and his ally from District 9 got separated when the duo from 1 attacked, but they couldn't be that far away. He forced his way through the high grass, following blood stains and damage until he tripped over a body. The golden curls were the only recognizable feature left of the D1 boy; the cannon was clearly for him. Bolt heard a rasping breath coming from a few feet away. Stepping around the fallen boy, he followed it until he found his ally. Or, shortly, his former ally. The 9 boy was barely conscious. The pool of blood that surrounded him was still growing. Wincing, Bolt kneeled down next to the boy, who tried to speak but only wound up gurgling out more blood. Bolt considered how best to end 9's suffering, but he didn't need to. His ally's eyes fluttered closed and another cannon sounded. Three tributes gone in less than seven minutes… And only two left. Bolt was damaged, but now, only one little girl stood between him and going home. It didn't matter how clever she was. He was going to find her, and he was going to go home. At Woof's family dinner table in Eight, no one was eating. Any appetite they'd had was lost at Boy 1's grisly death, or weak stream of blood spilling from Boy 9's mouth. Knitly had turned away to stare into her mug of tea, but Woof couldn't look away. "Spindly," his mother said sharply. "You don't need to look at that. Eat your dinner." Even when everyone was mandated to watch the Games, like now, so close to the end, the Woof family turned their backs to the television and ignored it. "What do you care? That boy from Ten's probably going to win. And the Games will be over soon." Woof watched the boy from Ten, face grimacing in pain, for a split second, and wondered how he felt, in this moment. He would probably never know what it felt like to kill someone. His mother turned down the volume on the television, and the family turned away, to try and eat. ----- Woof woke to the boom of a cannon, blinking the pre-dawn light out of his eyes. He hadn't meant to fall asleep, he'd meant to stay away, waiting to figure out if his trap had worked. But apparently sleep had overtaken him as he'd waited in the car of the ferris wheel. The camera panned from Woof's bleary awakening to the chaos on the ground. Girl Four, her eyes fluttering, forehead gushing blood, white skull bear, managed a strangled groan. Boy Two and Boy One were shouting over her body, and Boy Four's decapitated corpse. "What the fuck? What the fuck!" "You were supposed to be keeping watch. It's your fucking fault." Boy Two kicked Boy Four's head. It rolled across the packed dirt, leaving a splatter of red. The shouts carried from the Careers' tent, though Woof couldn't make out the words. He desperately wanted to look up over the side of the car, to see what was going on, but he was afraid of drawing attention to himself, so he lay absolutely still, listening to the muffled voices, looking at the rope burns on the palms of his hands. ------ In penance for their uprising, each district shall offer up a boy and a girl These tributes shall be delivered to the custody of the Capitol. Her mother had left with her father to go to take the fight to the Capitol itself with scores of others from Four, but only she had escaped and returned with a few other survivors. Mags had heard something while she was supposed to be sleeping about rebels and mountains and fire falling from the sky. Fire and stone and far from the sea were terrible ways for anyone to die, but it sounded especially horrible for a Four to her young ears. Now she held onto her mother's hand as she stood on the tiptoes of her bare feet, straining to see and hear what was going on at the front of the crowd. She suddenly pulled away and started pushing through the crowd, ducking under and around legs to get closer to the stage.And then taken to an arena, where they will fight to the death until a lone victor remains. The mayor stood at a podium on the stage, reading a speech about the terms of the surviving districts' surrender and begging forgiveness from the Capitol. When she was done, the screens flapping in the wind around the square flickered to life. The President of Panem appeared, grainy and unfocused, to give a second speech -- the Treaty of Treason. It was long and boring and Mags stopped paying attention after awhile because there were too many big words and ideas she couldn't understand. But then she heard a word near the end that caught her attention as a seven-year-old. All children loved to play, after all. The grown-ups around her stared at each other and the boys and girls in the crowd with looks of shock, anger, and sadness. But she simply looked up at the edge of the stage with the wide eyes of a child and smiled.Henceforth and forevermore, this pageant shall be known as the Hunger Games. |