Chapter 21: A Matter of Luck
Theoram Warrik
Renald Warrik. Theo's father was a hard man, yet he had a very honorable code. He knew he … morewas lucky if he even came close to the man his father was. Before he gave his life during the Dark Days, every day he was a beacon of morality. If there was one thing Theo learned from the man, it was the difference between right and wrong.
Theo sometimes doubted whether there was ever a time where people didn't kill each other for sport. And with so few of them left, he was bewildered at the Capitol's amazing disrespect for life. He understood that sometimes it was necessary to inflict punishment on the guilty, but this... The Hunger Games was punishment on the innocent.
"Theo, it's like you're in another world." Everra smiled at him from across the table. Her flowing blue hair glistened in the early morning sunlight. "You've been staring into the distance for a couple minutes now. It's not like I … [view original content]
Sorry, it'll be coming back soon. I've been working on my new story for a while, but once I'm done with the first part there, I'll keep writing this one.
80% of readers chose to [A. Tell Dorian to call the medics.]
Theo only took a moment to ponder the thought that his friend could be dead. Fear had no place here. He was used to following orders. It was how he'd survived this long in the Capitol. However, he knew how to lead. He knew this was his time.
"Dorian, get the infirmary on the phone." He called over his shoulder. He could hear the scuttling of the man's feet to a quiet place in a hurry. "Everra get down here and help me."
Everra quickly bent down next to him, chattering nervously. "Is-Is he dead?"
"He's alive still. But he won't be for long if we don't do something." Theo told her with his unique sense of urgency. The more he tried not to feel fear, the more it slipped through the walls. "Look for any injuries."
She started to ravage over the man's body, feeling for any sign of blood or wounds. Theo lifted Roman's eyes open and looked through his pupils for any sign there. He didn't see any... "I'm not finding anything Theo..." The woman to her right told him. "His arm seems broken, but there's nothing else that suggests injury. Is he unconscious?"
"I don't know... I'm a Gamemaker, not a doctor." Theo reached for his cane and stood up with great effort staring down at the limp body of his friend.
"Neither am I..." Everra sighed. She placed her hands on her hips and looked back up towards the broken window on the floor above them. "Someone needs to go up there. Whoever threw him out has got to still be there... He could be getting away!"
"I appreciate your eagerness to avenge this man, but now is not the time for rash actions." Theo replied calmly. "Catching the attacker will not do anything to help Roman for the time being."
"How can you say that?" Everra peered at him. "You'd just let him go?"
"Our job is to make sure Roman stays alive. The Peacekeepers will do the rest."
"Roman was your best friend."
"Is my friend." He corrected her. "Don't speak in absolutes."
She snarled and turned away from him. Her eyes were directed towards the upstairs. Theo could easily tell there was a bit of doubt in her. There was a part of her that wanted to ignore his orders and run anyway. There was a time when Theo would have felt this way too. He'd only made it this far because of this mind, and he didn't intend to stop now.
"Yes, my name is Dorian Stenry." Dorian spoke into the emergency channel. "...Yes, I'm fine... I don't like blood at all..."
Theo turned his head and frowned at the man. "Boy, you're a Gamemaker. Don't act like you've never seen the dead before."
"Yes. Thank you." Dorian ended the call, walking towards where Theo and Everra stood. "They're on their way. Don't call me boy again."
"You're acting like one." Theo shot back. "There isn't even any blood on him. He's got no injuries but a broken arm."
Dorian sighed in relief. "Well, that's good. Should we... move him?"
"Yes. Get him to a couch or a bed." Theo told them. "I think that's good for head trauma."
Dorian and Everra followed his command in an instant, heaving Roman onto a nearby couch inside. After the effort, Dorian looked visibly tired. Theo would have helped with it if he wasn't already very weak. Then both of them went back outside to sit down in the sun around the table they were scheduled to meet at. Theo knelt down beside his friend and eventually had to sit on the ground. His leg couldn't take it.
"What happened to you, old friend?" Theo asked him, knowing no one would answer, yet he hadn't seen Roman in months. He couldn't resist talking to the man. "Do you remember the day a few years ago... There was the victor from District 6. Big bulky boy... Do you remember what he did after he won?"
Roman only replied with silence.
"He tried to attack the President on the Victory Tour... It was almost a successful assassination too. Do you remember that you almost guided him by the hand through that Games? It was almost like you knew... You knew he would revolt. But you claim you didn't. Of course you didn't... Can't risk your relationship with Mr. Coriolanus... Do you see what the Games do to people, Roman? They shot that poor boy in the back of the head, in front of all the cheering people that were excited he was still alive. That's why I'm going to end them... They're evil..."
"I remember the boy..." Roman replied faintly. When Theo turned around in shock, his eyes were open, staring down at him with a strange mixture of emotion and fear. Theo hadn't meant for him to hear any of that... With one fell swoop almost all his plans were out the window... "I remember the boy, and I remember how I killed him."
Back to the story - did Theo accidentally leak his motives? Sort of confused here as this has been put on pause for quite some time haha ^^ I think I may need to do a quick re-read of the chapter before this
80% of readers chose to [A. Tell Dorian to call the medics.]
Theo only took a moment to ponder the thought that his friend could be dea… mored. Fear had no place here. He was used to following orders. It was how he'd survived this long in the Capitol. However, he knew how to lead. He knew this was his time.
"Dorian, get the infirmary on the phone." He called over his shoulder. He could hear the scuttling of the man's feet to a quiet place in a hurry. "Everra get down here and help me."
Everra quickly bent down next to him, chattering nervously. "Is-Is he dead?"
"He's alive still. But he won't be for long if we don't do something." Theo told her with his unique sense of urgency. The more he tried not to feel fear, the more it slipped through the walls. "Look for any injuries."
She started to ravage over the man's body, feeling for any sign of blood or wounds. Theo lifted Roman's eyes open and looked through his pupils for any sign t… [view original content]
YAYAYA ITS BACK! I missed you!
Back to the story - did Theo accidentally leak his motives? Sort of confused here as this has been put on pause for quite some time haha ^^ I think I may need to do a quick re-read of the chapter before this
Awesome, a new part I am glad this wonderful story is back! I have also noticed that I have forgotten to comment on the last part, though I have voted, namely to call the medics. For some reason, I've grown relatively fond of Roman and I like him, even though he's the Head Gamemaker. I guess it was this comment you made back when you introduced him, that he was kinda inspired by Peter Dinklage. Ever since, I can only imagine him as looking and talking exactly like him and that means he's certainly one of my favourite characters. And in this part I have to wonder... Roman's final sentence, how he killed the boy, that sounded rather bitter, as if he's against the games as well. I wonder if he might be an ally of Theo, even if it is certainly too risky to try it. Perhaps that's even the reason he almost got killed.
80% of readers chose to [A. Tell Dorian to call the medics.]
Theo only took a moment to ponder the thought that his friend could be dea… mored. Fear had no place here. He was used to following orders. It was how he'd survived this long in the Capitol. However, he knew how to lead. He knew this was his time.
"Dorian, get the infirmary on the phone." He called over his shoulder. He could hear the scuttling of the man's feet to a quiet place in a hurry. "Everra get down here and help me."
Everra quickly bent down next to him, chattering nervously. "Is-Is he dead?"
"He's alive still. But he won't be for long if we don't do something." Theo told her with his unique sense of urgency. The more he tried not to feel fear, the more it slipped through the walls. "Look for any injuries."
She started to ravage over the man's body, feeling for any sign of blood or wounds. Theo lifted Roman's eyes open and looked through his pupils for any sign t… [view original content]
Haha I had that problem with Roman too. I guess it's not really a problem, but I don't have as clear an image of the other characters as I do of him. I can't write anything from him without hearing it in Peter Dinklage's voice.
As for the analysis, nice idea, but Roman didn't mean that he physically killed the boy. He was just saying he was killed as a result of his actions.
Awesome, a new part I am glad this wonderful story is back! I have also noticed that I have forgotten to comment on the last part, though I… more have voted, namely to call the medics. For some reason, I've grown relatively fond of Roman and I like him, even though he's the Head Gamemaker. I guess it was this comment you made back when you introduced him, that he was kinda inspired by Peter Dinklage. Ever since, I can only imagine him as looking and talking exactly like him and that means he's certainly one of my favourite characters. And in this part I have to wonder... Roman's final sentence, how he killed the boy, that sounded rather bitter, as if he's against the games as well. I wonder if he might be an ally of Theo, even if it is certainly too risky to try it. Perhaps that's even the reason he almost got killed.
I also believe the Roman situation is not a problem. It's a fact that Peter Dinklage makes everything better, even a story that is already amazing
As for his sentence, that was what I thought as well. Should have been more clear here, but I understood that Roman never killed the boy physically, but that he thinks he killed him indirectly, as a result of his actions. Since I had the opinion he sounded so bitter in this moment, I got the impression he's not too fond of the games himself.
Haha I had that problem with Roman too. I guess it's not really a problem, but I don't have as clear an image of the other characters as I d… moreo of him. I can't write anything from him without hearing it in Peter Dinklage's voice.
As for the analysis, nice idea, but Roman didn't mean that he physically killed the boy. He was just saying he was killed as a result of his actions.
I also believe the Roman situation is not a problem. It's a fact that Peter Dinklage makes everything better, even a story that is already a… moremazing
As for his sentence, that was what I thought as well. Should have been more clear here, but I understood that Roman never killed the boy physically, but that he thinks he killed him indirectly, as a result of his actions. Since I had the opinion he sounded so bitter in this moment, I got the impression he's not too fond of the games himself.
The stone in the creek... Marten's mother's words had resonated with him ever since she'd uttered them. There was something about the image of it that was inspiring. The stone, unyielding, beside it's brothers and sisters in a world that didn't want it to there. The Games were like that creek... Marten wasn't sure he could stand against them.
"You have one hour." Stated Marc Bishoppe plainly. Marten could tell the man didn't care whether he was alive or dead. Typical from the Capitol... "Gather your things together. You are allowed to take one token with you into the arena. Talk to your family. They clearly care much about you. In sixty minutes, I will leave and you will be by my side. I will wait outside."
And when the door closed behind him, Marten knew the decision was final. The three women around him in the room knew it too. Salla couldn't help but immediately burst into tears. Willy followed closely after her. Myra was clearly feeling more anger than solemnity, uttering atrocities under her breath at the escort from the window.
"Don't..." Marten told her. "Don't blame it on him Aunt Myra."
She turned to see him and looked hurt. "What do you mean? Of course I can blame it on him! At any point, he could have turned right around and dragged his ass back to the Capitol."
"But he was under orders."
"So are the Peacekeepers. Doesn't give them excuses to be assholes!" She frowned. "Why are you defending the Capitol? They're the ones who stole you out of your home. They're forcing you to death! There is no reason the Capitol should not have the blame? Why do they get to decide your fate?"
"Because I smashed a boy's face in with my bare hands..." Marten said. His aunt was instantly quieted down.
Willy took a step back and stood by the wall. "My brother... Is going to be in the Hunger Games..." She sighed. "God, how did it come to this? You're a good kid, Marten." Marten, as usual, couldn't find the words to reply. They stuck in his throat like glue. "I can't imagine what the Games could do to a person..."
"You've watched them on TV." His mother said. "They are what they are: savage. Nothing good has ever come from that damn show and nothing ever will."
"I haven't even watched them since they killed the victor from Six." Myra opened the violet curtains just enough to see the escort outside drinking from a small glass. "That was fucking bullshit."
"Myra, language." Salla told her.
"Who gives a shit?!" She cried. "Marten's going to fucking die! You're worried about goddamn words when that asshole is out there threatening to take your son away! You're so petty, Salla!"
There were tears leaking from her eyes. She had been trying to hide them. A week ago Marten might have cried too. He was scared at the fact that the only emotion he could feel right now was pain for his family. He felt no fear... He felt no sadness... Just pain and regret... He wanted to reassure them that he would be fine and that he would live through this. Marten was not a lying man.
"You think I don't feel this?" Marten's mother screamed at her sister. "I've been up ever since he was arrested worrying about him! I haven't slept in days! I haven't been able to eat anything without vomiting it up the next hour! Don't talk to me about this... I can't handle anymore."
"Mum..." Marten said. He couldn't think of any more to say, but from the way she reached out to wrap her arms around him, he knew it was enough. He watched over her shoulder as her curly brown hair swung behind her head. It was startling to think that today might be the last time he ever saw his mother, or any of them... Vinni, Ty, Uncle Bren... He'd never see any of them...
Marten felt a presence on his shoulder. He turned to see Willy, looking him solemnly in the eye. "I have to show you something..." She told him. He followed her around the corner and up the stairs. The screams of his mother and aunt could still be understood clearly. Marten chose not to listen to them.
Once they stepped into the room that was his sisters', Willy shut the door behind them. She sat on the bottom bunk of the bed on the left side of the room. That one was hers. The other three belonged to Rhoda, his little sister. And the twins, Denna and Faith, his cousins. Marten took a spot on the bed across from her.
"I wish I could go fishing with you one last time..." Willy said. "Do you think the guy out front would notice if we snuck out the back?"
"I wouldn't risk it." Marten replied. "They can't hurt me because I'm the tribute... You're free game..."
She sighed and looked down at the boards creaking at her feet. "Do you remember when Uncle Went forced us all to stay in bed at night because the boards would make noises when we got up and woke him up?" Marten nodded. "We all thought he was the devil at the time... Wouldn't let us go to the bathroom. Seems silly now doesn't it? I would give anything to go back to petty problems like that. The world was a lot simpler when we could walk from one side of it to the other in the span of an hour."
"The world has always been the same size..." Marten replied.
"You know what I mean." She said. "When we were younger District 4 seemed like the entire world since it was the only place we ever were. I guess you'll be seeing a lot more of it soon. That's the good side of being a tribute I guess..." Something about the way she said that was almost cold, and she realized it had come out wrong. "I mean... It's terrible- I- You know what I mean..."
"Yeah..."
Myra's screams could be heard from underneath his feet. "I can't believe you!" She shouted at Salla. Marten didn't blame them. They had been at each other's throats ever since Salla's birth. Any time the two of them were in the same room together there was tension, and with Marten's sentence, it had just made the ice thinner. He wondered if Marc Bishoppe could hear them.
"Don't mind them, Marten." Willy told him, bending down for something beneath her bed. She took out a small cardboard box the size of a house cat. When she opened it up, she reached inside and pulled out a... A baseball cap.
"What's that?" Marten asked her.
"This was Grandad's." She replied. The hat was orange with the fish shaped insignia of the family business inscribed on the front. "Before he died... He wanted you to have this. I couldn't think of a better time to give it to you than now..."
Marten took the cap from his sister and peered down onto it. He imagined it on Grandad's head when he founded the company all those years ago. Surely he could have given it to any of his sons, Marten's uncles... Why was he chosen among them all? After all, as so many had told him, he was nothing...
"Mr. Bishoppe said you could bring something with you into the arena." Willy told him. "This could be your token. In sure others will bring weapons and other useful things, but if it were me, I'd want to bring something that meant something to me. If I had to die, at least I'd die with a scrap of myself left."
"Don't think about that..." Spoke Marten softly. It was tempting, although he's never been fond of hats. Yes, they kept the sun out of his eyes, yet they also blocked an entire direction of vision. That being said, the hat was very soft, and as he put it onto his head, he felt like he was at home.
He had been thinking of taking another item as his token. He stood up, pushed open the door and stepped into his own room. His bed, the lower bunk in the back right, was completely covered with his fishing poles and sacks of bait. He had been planning to go out the next morning the night that it happened. He opened the case of lures and found what he considered his prize possession.
It was a small fishhook about a quarter inch long, completely blunt and scratched up from its use. He used it to catch his very first trout back when he was only five-years-old. It was one of his first memories of his father before he was imprisoned, and he'd kept it as a memento ever since. It felt almost unnatural to be without it.
He carried it into his sisters' room where Willy sat and showed it to her. "What's that?" She asked.
"My first fishhook." He replied plainly, taking off Grandad's cap and holding it in his right hand while the hook took its place in his left.
Willy looked from one item to the other and scoffed angrily. "You shouldn't even have to choose this... The Capitol is already taking everything from you. Why do they have to take your only possessions as well?"
Marten peered down and weighed each of the two in his hand. Each held value to him. To choose between the two was unbearable, but he was able to make the decision. Choosing came easily to him... Choosing to kill Ronn in the creek was an easy choice... Why shouldn't this be?
Chapter 22: Warm Winds
Marten Lewis
The stone in the creek... Marten's mother's words had resonated with him ever since she'd uttered … morethem. There was something about the image of it that was inspiring. The stone, unyielding, beside it's brothers and sisters in a world that didn't want it to there. The Games were like that creek... Marten wasn't sure he could stand against them.
"You have one hour." Stated Marc Bishoppe plainly. Marten could tell the man didn't care whether he was alive or dead. Typical from the Capitol... "Gather your things together. You are allowed to take one token with you into the arena. Talk to your family. They clearly care much about you. In sixty minutes, I will leave and you will be by my side. I will wait outside."
And when the door closed behind him, Marten knew the decision was final. The three women around him in the room knew it too. Salla couldn't help but immediately burst into tears. Willy follow… [view original content]
60% of readers chose to [A. Take the hat as token.]
Taking each of the items in his hand, he lifted one above the other. The cap of his grandfather's business felt like a reminder of his family. Every time he felt it on his head would bring to him thoughts of what it felt like to be home. It would be his lifeline in the midst of all the death and destruction.
"I'll take the hat." Marten told his sister. "I have to remember who I am. It's been getting harder the past few days. This will help. Thank you, Willy."
Willy smiled as he fit the cap onto his head. "It's a good look for you." She said. He handed the fishhook in his hand to her. Willy looked at it for a moment and then back to him. "You're not going to die, you know... You'll be great at the business. You were born for it."
Marten could have used the fishhook in the arena. He wouldn't have had to worry about food as long as there was any sort of body of water nearby. The other tributes certainly wouldn't know their way around a rod. Although, in a way, he was glad it was staying home with his sister. It was safer here than it would be in his hands.
"The wind's always warmer this side of the creek..." Willy spoke softly, brushing a strand of curly blonde hair from her face.
"What?" Marten asked. It was a phrase he hadn't heard before.
"It's something Pop used to say a lot before he was arrested. You might not remember it. You were really little at the time. The wind's always warmer this side of the creek..." She repeated. "I guess it was his way of saying enjoy the time you got while you have it. It's only going to get worse."
Marten vaguely remembered his father mentioning this, but as she mentioned, he was very young when it happened. He leaned against the bedside and took a moment to contemplate what the words meant. Zak was a very reserved man. Whenever he spoke it was not without purpose.
"I can't think of any time that's more true than now..." Willy began to cry, looking Marten in the eyes. "I'm going to miss you, little bro. You know that?"
"Of course..." Marten replied. "I'll miss you too."
"You know... Back at the creek, when you killed the carpenter's boy, I saw a part of you I'd never seen before. I saw a part of you that I didn't think existed." She covered her mouth with one of her hand to keep herself from sobbing. "But... I don't know what you're capable of, Marten. Maybe you're more like Pop than I'd thought..."
"Maybe..."
"Just..." She choked out the words like she couldn't believe she was uttering them. "When you get to the arena, unleash that side of you. Don't show mercy... I don't want to recognize you... And when you get to the Capitol, after you win..."
"What?" He asked after her pause. She couldn't make out the words in between her sobs.
"Don't hold back..." She uttered. "Marten... You can't let them live. Don't... Don't hold back..."
"I won't..."
"I love you..." She hung her head in sorrow and Marten sat beside her, wrapping her in his beefy arms. She set her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes. He wasn't the best at showing it, but he loved her too.
He gazed past her and saw the reflection of himself in the mirror. The hat fit snugly on his head, proudly displaying the sigil of the Lewis family. It frightened him to know that after he boarded the train for the Capitol, this would be the only remainder of his possessions. It would be the only piece left of his home. The winds were warmer here. He wanted so badly to stay, but the creek flowed ever on...
60% of readers chose to [A. Take the hat as token.]
Taking each of the items in his hand, he lifted one above the other. The cap of his… more grandfather's business felt like a reminder of his family. Every time he felt it on his head would bring to him thoughts of what it felt like to be home. It would be his lifeline in the midst of all the death and destruction.
"I'll take the hat." Marten told his sister. "I have to remember who I am. It's been getting harder the past few days. This will help. Thank you, Willy."
Willy smiled as he fit the cap onto his head. "It's a good look for you." She said. He handed the fishhook in his hand to her. Willy looked at it for a moment and then back to him. "You're not going to die, you know... You'll be great at the business. You were born for it."
Marten could have used the fishhook in the arena. He wouldn't have had to worry about food as long as there was any sort of body of water nearby. The o… [view original content]
60% of readers chose to [A. Take the hat as token.]
Taking each of the items in his hand, he lifted one above the other. The cap of his… more grandfather's business felt like a reminder of his family. Every time he felt it on his head would bring to him thoughts of what it felt like to be home. It would be his lifeline in the midst of all the death and destruction.
"I'll take the hat." Marten told his sister. "I have to remember who I am. It's been getting harder the past few days. This will help. Thank you, Willy."
Willy smiled as he fit the cap onto his head. "It's a good look for you." She said. He handed the fishhook in his hand to her. Willy looked at it for a moment and then back to him. "You're not going to die, you know... You'll be great at the business. You were born for it."
Marten could have used the fishhook in the arena. He wouldn't have had to worry about food as long as there was any sort of body of water nearby. The o… [view original content]
Another great chapter! Once again, apologies for me not commenting on the last part. Both parts of this chapter were great and I liked the choice to choose his token. However, I ultimately decided for the hat, not only for the sentimental value, but also because there is no way they would have accepted the fishing hook. If it would have been good enough to catch fish, it would have been an advantage for the him and as far as I know, no token is allowed to give the tribute an advantage. The hat might already be problematic, but if it doesn't give much protection against the elements, it might just pass.
60% of readers chose to [A. Take the hat as token.]
Taking each of the items in his hand, he lifted one above the other. The cap of his… more grandfather's business felt like a reminder of his family. Every time he felt it on his head would bring to him thoughts of what it felt like to be home. It would be his lifeline in the midst of all the death and destruction.
"I'll take the hat." Marten told his sister. "I have to remember who I am. It's been getting harder the past few days. This will help. Thank you, Willy."
Willy smiled as he fit the cap onto his head. "It's a good look for you." She said. He handed the fishhook in his hand to her. Willy looked at it for a moment and then back to him. "You're not going to die, you know... You'll be great at the business. You were born for it."
Marten could have used the fishhook in the arena. He wouldn't have had to worry about food as long as there was any sort of body of water nearby. The o… [view original content]
Another great chapter! Once again, apologies for me not commenting on the last part. Both parts of this chapter were great and I liked the c… morehoice to choose his token. However, I ultimately decided for the hat, not only for the sentimental value, but also because there is no way they would have accepted the fishing hook. If it would have been good enough to catch fish, it would have been an advantage for the him and as far as I know, no token is allowed to give the tribute an advantage. The hat might already be problematic, but if it doesn't give much protection against the elements, it might just pass.
Hey guys, from now on, I suppose I'll tag you in the chapter releases. If you don't want me to tag you, just tell me and I won't next time.
Chapter 23: Goodbye
Marten Lewis
Marten had never liked living in Four, but it was his home. It was all he had ever known. According to Mr. Bishoppe, Marten had been missing out his whole life. He didn't need the man to tell him what he'd already known since the day he was born. Kids from Four were born tougher than kids from the Capitol. He doubted Marc Bishoppe had ever tasted blood before. He'd seen plenty on TV, but he didn't know what it felt like to have it on your hands.
"I think you're going to like it in the Capitol, son." Marc smiled through his well-coiffed mustache. "There is enough food just one supper to feed your whole family for a week here."
Marten smiled back joylessly. He tried to keep up conversation to be polite even though a large part of him didn't want to. "With all due respect, I doubt that. My family's fifty-seven and counting."
"Counting up or down?" He chuckled. When Marten didn't follow along, he coughed and knew he had crossed a line. Marten liked him on the other side of it.
The winds had changed throughout the week. They blew calmly as a short breeze earlier, but now they were faster and colder. It was almost as if the air itself were just as aligned against him as the Capitol was. He reached up and held his hat closely to his scalp as the wind attempted to pry it from him.
The pathway between the Lewis' house and the rest of District Four was calm. The dirt felt good under his feet. It meant he still had the strength to walk. The leaves brushed together and the crickets sang and the frogs chirped in their ponds leaving the beautiful nighttime ambience that Marten loved about this place. From the look on Bishoppe's face as he swatted away a fly, Marten could tell he didn't see it the same way that he did. He would be giving this up within the hour. He took every moment and every thought he had to say goodbye to it. He knew it would be the last time he would ever see it.
"What is it like to go fishing?" Bishoppe asked from beside him. Marten looked over and saw a man whose face read that he only wanted to make conversation. "I can see you were part of a business." He pointed to the Trout insignia on Marten's hat.
"Why do you ask?"
"We don't have fish in the Capitol." He replied plainly. "We have lakes and ponds, but the animal rights group had them removed. What is it like to stand in a river?"
Animal rights group? Marten laughed internally. The Capitol is handing out rights to fish when they slaughtered their own citizens on live television? That cemented the notion in his mind; he would not enjoy the Capitol and all its hypocrisies.
"It's about as you'd expect." Marten replied to the man. "Lots of waiting. A little bit of action every now and then if you're lucky... Takes patience."
"Patience..." He laughed briefly. "My wife tells me I don't have an ounce of the stuff." They kept on the road through the forest and the night until the faintest light could be seen on the edge of the horizon where the town and the justice building were. Marten was sure it was close to Three a.m. Of course, with Four being one of the furthest districts from the Capitol, he had to board the train at this ungodly hour to make it there at the same time as the tributes from the other Districts. Marc broke the silence after it had become painful for him. "I think you're very brave."
"What?" He raised an eyebrow.
Bishoppe wiped a strand of black hair that had fallen down from his obvious toupee back where it came. "Going into the Hunger Games. I don't think I could handle the stress. You're very courageous for someone your age."
Even though Marten could freely use his arms, he still felt as though he were handcuffed and being led by the neck. Coming from a family who grew up in the water, captivity didn't sit well with him. "I didn't have a damn choice." Marten snarled.
"I was just trying to compliment you..." He seemed hurt. As they closely approached the town, Marc began to slow down and after a moment, stopped to reach into his jacket. "I was told to deliver this to you before we arrived in District Four. So here you are."
He pulled from his coat an envelope made of expensive-looking paper. Marten could barely see, but he held it in a direction, using the light seeping through the trees, to make out what it said. It was in a form of lettering Marten had never seen before. The letters were flowing with as if they had been written by a quill pen and ink. Whoever had sent it clearly spent a great deal of time with their calligraphy. He stared at the words for a few more moments before he could clearly read what they said.
A shorter part, but sweet as always. That Bishoppe is really getting on my nerves though. Again, he is a great example for a capitol character, whom you write perfectly. As for the choice, I decided to open the letter now. I'm curious and see little reason to wait. Who knows what happens later.
@mr.quality @janitor @supersagig @UkilledKenny @AAA_Jane @xSensus @WildlingKing @LiquidChicagoTed @TheLier @TWD_stan
Hey guys, from now o… moren, I suppose I'll tag you in the chapter releases. If you don't want me to tag you, just tell me and I won't next time.
Chapter 23: Goodbye
Marten Lewis
Marten had never liked living in Four, but it was his home. It was all he had ever known. According to Mr. Bishoppe, Marten had been missing out his whole life. He didn't need the man to tell him what he'd already known since the day he was born. Kids from Four were born tougher than kids from the Capitol. He doubted Marc Bishoppe had ever tasted blood before. He'd seen plenty on TV, but he didn't know what it felt like to have it on your hands.
"I think you're going to like it in the Capitol, son." Marc smiled through his well-coiffed mustache. "There is enough food just one supper to feed your whole family for a week here."
Marten smile… [view original content]
A shorter part, but sweet as always. That Bishoppe is really getting on my nerves though. Again, he is a great example for a capitol charact… moreer, whom you write perfectly. As for the choice, I decided to open the letter now. I'm curious and see little reason to wait. Who knows what happens later.
The envelope almost smelled of tea. Surely it wasn't scented... There was no way anyone in District Four was wealthy enough to worry about sending a fancy card like this, especially not to him. This came from somewhere else... Marten had never known anyone who came from far away. Curiosity got the best of him easily.
He tore the seal open hungrily and withdrew a slip of paper that had been stashed inside. It gave off the same air of elegance as the envelope itself did. Marten took care when lifting open the flaps to reveal the message inside. Inside the cover was a sketch of what looked like a... A bird, maybe? No, an Owl.
It took him a long time to decipher what the calligraphy read, but after a moment, he was able to make it out. "Remember who your true friends are." It read. "Remember who you are. You are far from nothing." And then it was signed, Schrodinger. Something was weird about the signature, though. The first letter... It was backwards, resembling a Z more than an S. Marten was left just as in the dark as he was before opening the envelope.
Just reading the words seemed foreign to him. He was far from nothing... Who the hell was this man, and how did he know about what had been happening to him the past couple days? How could he know what the cuts carved into his back read? Or what they meant? The envelope said it was from a friend. But how could they be friends if Marten had never met him?
"Schrodinger? Do you have any idea who that is?" Marc Bishoppe asked, peering over his shoulder. When Marten didn't answer him, he seemed disappointed. "It's awfully cruel to make me travel all this way as a delivery boy, but keep me in the dark as to why..."
Marten scowled, his confusion turning into anger and his anger into paranoia. "Who gave this to you? Where did you get it?"
"Just some Peacekeeper from the Justice Building." He replied. "I swear, I have no damn idea what it is." That didn't add up. There was no way this letter came from someone like a Peacekeeper. They were probably just as much a messenger as Mr. Bishoppe was. "You know that old saying, 'Curiosity killed the cat?'" He laughed. "Well now it's killing me..."
The stroll into town was a peaceful one. Once they reached the outskirts, there were instantly Peacekeepers with their dark visors patrolling the streets. Many of them recognized Marten on sight and marched up to the two of them angrily only to be swatted away by a small piece of registration Marc Bishoppe presented before them. He couldn't see any of their faces, but he could tell more than a few of them wanted to end his life by their own hands.
"You see my boy," Bishoppe said before the Justice Building appeared before them, unenthusiastically. "There is power in words. There is power too in the ones carved into your back."
"My scars have no power." Marten replied. "They're only painful and humiliating."
"Ah." He raised a finger in the air, as if to contradict. "The citizens of the Capitol will not see it that way. You see 'I am nothing.' They will see something much different."
The Justice Building was grandiose and elegant, taller by far than any other by any other building in the entirety of Four. It was white marble while all others were crooked oak. It had pillars for support while others had beams. And the spotlights outside made it clear that the Capitol wanted the District to know very well that it was superior. Marten spat on the steps with a ball of saliva that had been in the back of his throat since he left home. He was sure Bishoppe didn't see him do it, since he would have said something preposterous if he had.
"Isn't it marvelous?" Bishoppe asked him with a grin painted over his face. It did put the other buildings to shame, but Marten gave it low regards specifically for that reason. "The architecture is somewhat artistic, I think. It's called the Justice Building... It's built to look exactly like the ideal it represents."
"Glorious." Marten said, humoring him.
Bishoppe continued up the steps, walking slower to take it in. "There's something breathtaking about it. And I don't say that lightly; I'm from the Capitol." Could this man possibly have a more inflated ego?
Marten pushed open the double doors into the Justice Building while his escort was still outside gawking at the architecture. Inside of the giant pillar into the sky was a hall with a tall domed ceiling. At the other end from him, past the rows of waiting chairs was the front desk. The light just above was the only one in the room, and around it stood two others.
As he stood closer, he got a good look of them. There was a girl slightly younger than him. She had a full head of gorgeous dark blonde hair and brown eyes that pierced directly through him. She had a roguish look about her, and Marten knew she could kick his ass without thinking about it twice. Marten placed the other woman around thirty. She was the shortest in the room by far, and she looked very sweet. She smiled as Marten approached them.
"It's about time you showed up." The younger girl laughed. "We would have left without you if it wasn't fucking treason."
"Welcome, Marten." The kind woman told him, her green eyes radiated a type of warmth he'd only ever seen from members of his family. "If you'll sit down?"
Marten took her up on her offer and took a seat in one of the chairs behind them. Sitting down felt good. He hadn't done it since he left home.
"Mags!" Marc shouted across the room as he strode in the doors. He raised his arms to the sky and smiled. "Come here, my old friend!" He was laughing in a friendly way all the way over to the other side of the hall, wrapping his arms around the woman named Mags. As she hugged him back, Marten could tell she was just was fond of him as he was of her. "It's been too long!"
"It has." Mags said. Her voice was soft and kind. "You weren't involved last year! I thought they had hired someone new."
"Marten Lewis, meet the two lovely women that will be accompanying us into the Capitol!" Marc had a strange way about him, seeming excited and uncaring at the same time. "This is Mags Flanagan, your mentor. She was a victor of the Ninth Annual Hunger Games from your very own District!"
"I was." Mags replied. How could this woman have been a victor? She looked so innocent, and so kind. Marten couldn't picture her holding a weapon, much less thrusting it into another person. And she seemed so happy...? In a roundabout way, she gave Marten a bit of hope. If she had retained who she was after going through something as devastating as the Games, maybe he could too.
Bishoppe strolled past the mentor to the other girl who Marten knew was the female tribute. She nodded back at him proudly. "And this is-"
"I can introduce myself." She interrupted him. "My name is Delmara Lum."
She reached out her arm for a handshake and Marten took it. Her grip was firm and confident. "Marten." He replied, simply.
"Now!" Marc exclaimed excitedly. "Now that introductions are out of the way, I think we'll grow to enjoy one another! District Four has a real shot this year I believe."
"Yeah, we do!" Delmara agreed, followed shortly by victory cry. The Career Districts always had a chance, and Four was one of them. Most of the victors were always from One, Two and Four, but occasionally the others took their shot. Marten had never gone in with the Career crowd. They were loud, preppy and obnoxious. It was overwhelmingly clear that Delmara was among them.
"This is going to be such a good year!" Bishoppe continued. "I've said that of many other years, but not yet have we had a brutal killer and a survival expert as our tributes. You will do very well."
Delmara glanced at him, slightly surprised, although Marten could tell she couldn't care less of his history. He was impressed with her though. Marc had called her a survival expert. He wondered what exactly did that entailed. Perhaps she had spent a few weeks living by herself. Marten had heard of people doing that to train themselves for the Games. It was a loophole around the Capitol's Career training law. You couldn't detain someone for "camping."
The four of them in the main hall of the Justice Building exchanged their pleasantries for a moment longer. While they were all very friendly, Marten kept the thought in the back of his mind that this was all petty and useless. Everyone knew what they were doing. Everyone knew that in a few weeks time, both Marten and Delmara would likely be dead. When none of them acted as though that weren't the only reason they were meeting in the first place, it infuriated Marten. But of course, real emotions had no place in a conversation like this. "Bitterness and hate should and will be left at the welcome mat," the men and women from the Capitol always liked to say.
They all began to travel through the dimly lit town to the train station, although as soon as they stepped foot outside, there were three Peacekeepers following closely behind, reminding them that they were still prisoners. When they spoke, all three of them told stories and laughed like they weren't under surveillance with every word. Being the silent one could always be handy...
Mags had been the mentor for the tributes of District Four for years, ever since the Capitol had decided to appoint them. She told them why the President had picked her rather than one of the more capable and ferocious victors from Four to stand in that place. It was because their district was a breeding hive of victors. The Career Districts won almost every year, so the Capitol thought perhaps it would help even the odds if they put a tamer mentor in charge of them. Judging by the last three victors coming from One and Two, Marten could tell it hadn't worked.
Delmara had a twin brother named Lyno back home. According to her, they hadn't left eachother striking a good chord, since they had both volunteered as a Career. Other than him, though, she hadn't have much of a family except her friends at the Career Facility. Of course, she hadn't actually mentioned the Careers with the Peacekeepers standing so close by, but she implied it. She and her family grew up hungry, starving even, having to take whatever work she could get alongside her parents and her brother to feed herself. Something in Marten's throat clenched when he heard that. Surely, if they had known each other before all this, his family would have given her a home. They made enough money with the family business to support a lot of people. He was sure they could have taken one more. Anything to save her from that life...
Bishoppe didn't have much of a story to tell, or at least, he wished not to tell it. He simply walked along side as the girls chatted away, listening and giving his input whenever it was needed. Marten wondered if it was to maintain a sort of secrecy... No. From how Marc talked, he knew the man couldn't keep his mouth shut for a damn second.
When the group arrived at the station, the door was already open, ready to receive them immediately. The lights above them were set to the highest brightness, making this area the brightest in the whole town. Maybe it had forgotten to go to sleep with the rest of the town.
The train was sleek, metallic and chrome. It was easily the shiniest object Marten had ever seen. The entirety of the rail was only a couple cars long. He wondered why there was even more than one car in the first place. How much space did they really need? When he stepped inside, he was stunned. The wallpaper was covered with the image of a white rose. Scented candles stood, lit brightly, on whatever surface was free. Instead of the normal train car setup he was used to, with rows of chairs, there was instead white velvet couches lining either wall, and the back. In the center of them, there was a glass table above a shag carpet. The Capitol had so much wealth, it leaked first class into its transportation...
"This is nice!" Delmara smiled, instantly running to the sofa and cuddling up against the vast array of feather pillows they had set out. "Is the rest of the Capitol like this?"
"The Capitol is better." Marc replied, taking a seat on the couches with her. Mags and Marten both stepped inside the car before the doors rolled closed. "You know, they call it the Golden City. The beds are softer. The wines are sweeter."
"Can I move there when I win?" She lifted an eyebrow in a joking manner.
"You can't move to the Capitol..." He sighed. "But, you will be invited back for banquets and gatherings very often. You will be a celebrity! The whole of Panem will love and fear your name!"
As Delmara squeezed a pillow closer to herself in excitement, Marten leaned towards his mentor and asked her. "Do they fear your name?"
"They don't fear me, honey." Mags smiled. "They just know who I am."
"Have a seat, my dear old friend!" Marc gestured to Mags, and then to Marten. "And my new one!"
Mags nodded and went to sit down by the escort from the Capitol, but Marten took a moment to gaze out the window before taking his seat. This was the last time he would ever look upon the land that was his home. He would never go fishing in the creek again. He would never eat a meal at the long table again... He would never see his family again... He placed his hand on the porthole as the train began to slowly start to speed up. Goodbye... He said it while he still had the chance.
"Sit down, my boy!" Marc Bishoppe exclaimed. When Marten turned around, the man already had a cup of wine in his grasp. He held it toward him in offering. "Your new life awaits you!"
@mr.quality @janitor @supersagig @UkilledKenny @AAA_Jane @xSensus @WildlingKing @LiquidChicagoTed @TheLier @TWD_stan
67% of readers cho… morese to [A. Open the letter.]
The envelope almost smelled of tea. Surely it wasn't scented... There was no way anyone in District Four was wealthy enough to worry about sending a fancy card like this, especially not to him. This came from somewhere else... Marten had never known anyone who came from far away. Curiosity got the best of him easily.
He tore the seal open hungrily and withdrew a slip of paper that had been stashed inside. It gave off the same air of elegance as the envelope itself did. Marten took care when lifting open the flaps to reveal the message inside. Inside the cover was a sketch of what looked like a... A bird, maybe? No, an Owl.
It took him a long time to decipher what the calligraphy read, but after a moment, he was able to make it out. "Remember who your true friends are… [view original content]
Schrodinger again! Now this is really intriguing. I mean, I have already speculated that Schrodinger has an agenda for more than one tribute, but this kinda smashes my theory that he is Aura's father. Now I am pretty sure that Schrodinger is someone from the Capitol, because who else could be powerful enough to get into contact with a girl from District Seven and a boy from District 4? It gets even more intriguing since this Schrodinger person apparently knows what Marten screamed when he killed that guy. So, someone with access to surveillance material, I'd say and someone resourceful enough to make sure that Aura is going to find her owl pendant after returning home from the day with Cass. That means Schrodinger is probably someone powerful within the Capitol government, or perhaps a member of District 13. Anyways, amazing part! Sorry that it took me a little longer to comment, had a lot to do in the last two days.
@mr.quality @janitor @supersagig @UkilledKenny @AAA_Jane @xSensus @WildlingKing @LiquidChicagoTed @TheLier @TWD_stan
67% of readers cho… morese to [A. Open the letter.]
The envelope almost smelled of tea. Surely it wasn't scented... There was no way anyone in District Four was wealthy enough to worry about sending a fancy card like this, especially not to him. This came from somewhere else... Marten had never known anyone who came from far away. Curiosity got the best of him easily.
He tore the seal open hungrily and withdrew a slip of paper that had been stashed inside. It gave off the same air of elegance as the envelope itself did. Marten took care when lifting open the flaps to reveal the message inside. Inside the cover was a sketch of what looked like a... A bird, maybe? No, an Owl.
It took him a long time to decipher what the calligraphy read, but after a moment, he was able to make it out. "Remember who your true friends are… [view original content]
I love all the speculation haha. I've been hinting at the identity of Schrodinger since near the beginning actually. I suppose it's not surprising that he/she is going to play a vital role in the overarcing plot of the story.
Schrodinger again! Now this is really intriguing. I mean, I have already speculated that Schrodinger has an agenda for more than one tribute… more, but this kinda smashes my theory that he is Aura's father. Now I am pretty sure that Schrodinger is someone from the Capitol, because who else could be powerful enough to get into contact with a girl from District Seven and a boy from District 4? It gets even more intriguing since this Schrodinger person apparently knows what Marten screamed when he killed that guy. So, someone with access to surveillance material, I'd say and someone resourceful enough to make sure that Aura is going to find her owl pendant after returning home from the day with Cass. That means Schrodinger is probably someone powerful within the Capitol government, or perhaps a member of District 13. Anyways, amazing part! Sorry that it took me a little longer to comment, had a lot to do in the last two days.
Schrodinger again! Now this is really intriguing. I mean, I have already speculated that Schrodinger has an agenda for more than one tribute… more, but this kinda smashes my theory that he is Aura's father. Now I am pretty sure that Schrodinger is someone from the Capitol, because who else could be powerful enough to get into contact with a girl from District Seven and a boy from District 4? It gets even more intriguing since this Schrodinger person apparently knows what Marten screamed when he killed that guy. So, someone with access to surveillance material, I'd say and someone resourceful enough to make sure that Aura is going to find her owl pendant after returning home from the day with Cass. That means Schrodinger is probably someone powerful within the Capitol government, or perhaps a member of District 13. Anyways, amazing part! Sorry that it took me a little longer to comment, had a lot to do in the last two days.
I somewhat have a feeling that Bishoppe can come around and realise that the Games are wrong. Just a hunch though! I love how you write the Capitol characters so perfectly, it's almost as if you're Suzanne Collins herself imo haha :P
Anyways, I voted for Marten to open the letter, I'm curious af as to what's inside.
@mr.quality @janitor @supersagig @UkilledKenny @AAA_Jane @xSensus @WildlingKing @LiquidChicagoTed @TheLier @TWD_stan
Hey guys, from now o… moren, I suppose I'll tag you in the chapter releases. If you don't want me to tag you, just tell me and I won't next time.
Chapter 23: Goodbye
Marten Lewis
Marten had never liked living in Four, but it was his home. It was all he had ever known. According to Mr. Bishoppe, Marten had been missing out his whole life. He didn't need the man to tell him what he'd already known since the day he was born. Kids from Four were born tougher than kids from the Capitol. He doubted Marc Bishoppe had ever tasted blood before. He'd seen plenty on TV, but he didn't know what it felt like to have it on your hands.
"I think you're going to like it in the Capitol, son." Marc smiled through his well-coiffed mustache. "There is enough food just one supper to feed your whole family for a week here."
Marten smile… [view original content]
I somewhat have a feeling that Bishoppe can come around and realise that the Games are wrong. Just a hunch though! I love how you write the Capitol characters so perfectly, it's almost as if you're Suzanne Collins herself imo haha :P
Anyways, I voted for Marten to open the letter, I'm curious af as to what's inside.
@mr.quality @janitor @supersagig @UkilledKenny @AAA_Jane @xSensus @WildlingKing @LiquidChicagoTed @TheLier @TWD_stan
Hey guys, from now o… moren, I suppose I'll tag you in the chapter releases. If you don't want me to tag you, just tell me and I won't next time.
Chapter 23: Goodbye
Marten Lewis
Marten had never liked living in Four, but it was his home. It was all he had ever known. According to Mr. Bishoppe, Marten had been missing out his whole life. He didn't need the man to tell him what he'd already known since the day he was born. Kids from Four were born tougher than kids from the Capitol. He doubted Marc Bishoppe had ever tasted blood before. He'd seen plenty on TV, but he didn't know what it felt like to have it on your hands.
"I think you're going to like it in the Capitol, son." Marc smiled through his well-coiffed mustache. "There is enough food just one supper to feed your whole family for a week here."
Marten smile… [view original content]
Yet another amazing chapter. I'm truly sorry for being inactive in this fanfic for the past couple of days, I was on vacation haha.
Anyways, enough with the excuses ^^. This part was amazing and you've already got me hating on Delmara. She just has that bratty personality and it's making me sick ;-; off with her head.
@mr.quality @janitor @supersagig @UkilledKenny @AAA_Jane @xSensus @WildlingKing @LiquidChicagoTed @TheLier @TWD_stan
67% of readers cho… morese to [A. Open the letter.]
The envelope almost smelled of tea. Surely it wasn't scented... There was no way anyone in District Four was wealthy enough to worry about sending a fancy card like this, especially not to him. This came from somewhere else... Marten had never known anyone who came from far away. Curiosity got the best of him easily.
He tore the seal open hungrily and withdrew a slip of paper that had been stashed inside. It gave off the same air of elegance as the envelope itself did. Marten took care when lifting open the flaps to reveal the message inside. Inside the cover was a sketch of what looked like a... A bird, maybe? No, an Owl.
It took him a long time to decipher what the calligraphy read, but after a moment, he was able to make it out. "Remember who your true friends are… [view original content]
I somewhat have a feeling that Bishoppe can come around and realise that the Games are wrong. Just a hunch though! I love how you write the … moreCapitol characters so perfectly, it's almost as if you're Suzanne Collins herself imo haha :P
Anyways, I voted for Marten to open the letter, I'm curious af as to what's inside.
Comments
Wait.. What? I have a feeling President Snow is behind this.
Amazing chapter by the way! I love the setting and scenery argument Theo used - quite smart ^^
I miss this.
Sorry, it'll be coming back soon. I've been working on my new story for a while, but once I'm done with the first part there, I'll keep writing this one.
80% of readers chose to [A. Tell Dorian to call the medics.]
Theo only took a moment to ponder the thought that his friend could be dead. Fear had no place here. He was used to following orders. It was how he'd survived this long in the Capitol. However, he knew how to lead. He knew this was his time.
"Dorian, get the infirmary on the phone." He called over his shoulder. He could hear the scuttling of the man's feet to a quiet place in a hurry. "Everra get down here and help me."
Everra quickly bent down next to him, chattering nervously. "Is-Is he dead?"
"He's alive still. But he won't be for long if we don't do something." Theo told her with his unique sense of urgency. The more he tried not to feel fear, the more it slipped through the walls. "Look for any injuries."
She started to ravage over the man's body, feeling for any sign of blood or wounds. Theo lifted Roman's eyes open and looked through his pupils for any sign there. He didn't see any... "I'm not finding anything Theo..." The woman to her right told him. "His arm seems broken, but there's nothing else that suggests injury. Is he unconscious?"
"I don't know... I'm a Gamemaker, not a doctor." Theo reached for his cane and stood up with great effort staring down at the limp body of his friend.
"Neither am I..." Everra sighed. She placed her hands on her hips and looked back up towards the broken window on the floor above them. "Someone needs to go up there. Whoever threw him out has got to still be there... He could be getting away!"
"I appreciate your eagerness to avenge this man, but now is not the time for rash actions." Theo replied calmly. "Catching the attacker will not do anything to help Roman for the time being."
"How can you say that?" Everra peered at him. "You'd just let him go?"
"Our job is to make sure Roman stays alive. The Peacekeepers will do the rest."
"Roman was your best friend."
"Is my friend." He corrected her. "Don't speak in absolutes."
She snarled and turned away from him. Her eyes were directed towards the upstairs. Theo could easily tell there was a bit of doubt in her. There was a part of her that wanted to ignore his orders and run anyway. There was a time when Theo would have felt this way too. He'd only made it this far because of this mind, and he didn't intend to stop now.
"Yes, my name is Dorian Stenry." Dorian spoke into the emergency channel. "...Yes, I'm fine... I don't like blood at all..."
Theo turned his head and frowned at the man. "Boy, you're a Gamemaker. Don't act like you've never seen the dead before."
"Yes. Thank you." Dorian ended the call, walking towards where Theo and Everra stood. "They're on their way. Don't call me boy again."
"You're acting like one." Theo shot back. "There isn't even any blood on him. He's got no injuries but a broken arm."
Dorian sighed in relief. "Well, that's good. Should we... move him?"
"Yes. Get him to a couch or a bed." Theo told them. "I think that's good for head trauma."
Dorian and Everra followed his command in an instant, heaving Roman onto a nearby couch inside. After the effort, Dorian looked visibly tired. Theo would have helped with it if he wasn't already very weak. Then both of them went back outside to sit down in the sun around the table they were scheduled to meet at. Theo knelt down beside his friend and eventually had to sit on the ground. His leg couldn't take it.
"What happened to you, old friend?" Theo asked him, knowing no one would answer, yet he hadn't seen Roman in months. He couldn't resist talking to the man. "Do you remember the day a few years ago... There was the victor from District 6. Big bulky boy... Do you remember what he did after he won?"
Roman only replied with silence.
"He tried to attack the President on the Victory Tour... It was almost a successful assassination too. Do you remember that you almost guided him by the hand through that Games? It was almost like you knew... You knew he would revolt. But you claim you didn't. Of course you didn't... Can't risk your relationship with Mr. Coriolanus... Do you see what the Games do to people, Roman? They shot that poor boy in the back of the head, in front of all the cheering people that were excited he was still alive. That's why I'm going to end them... They're evil..."
"I remember the boy..." Roman replied faintly. When Theo turned around in shock, his eyes were open, staring down at him with a strange mixture of emotion and fear. Theo hadn't meant for him to hear any of that... With one fell swoop almost all his plans were out the window... "I remember the boy, and I remember how I killed him."
End of Chapter 21
YAYAYA ITS BACK! I missed you!
Back to the story - did Theo accidentally leak his motives? Sort of confused here as this has been put on pause for quite some time haha ^^ I think I may need to do a quick re-read of the chapter before this
Lol yeah Theo almost leaked his motives. If he had said anymore Roman would have taken it as treason rather than frustration.
@mr.quality @janitor @supersagig @UkilledKenny @AAA_Jane @xSensus @WildlingKing @LiquidChicagoTed @TheLier
Hey guys I just put up a new part
Awesome, a new part
I am glad this wonderful story is back! I have also noticed that I have forgotten to comment on the last part, though I have voted, namely to call the medics. For some reason, I've grown relatively fond of Roman and I like him, even though he's the Head Gamemaker. I guess it was this comment you made back when you introduced him, that he was kinda inspired by Peter Dinklage. Ever since, I can only imagine him as looking and talking exactly like him and that means he's certainly one of my favourite characters. And in this part I have to wonder... Roman's final sentence, how he killed the boy, that sounded rather bitter, as if he's against the games as well. I wonder if he might be an ally of Theo, even if it is certainly too risky to try it. Perhaps that's even the reason he almost got killed.
Haha I had that problem with Roman too. I guess it's not really a problem, but I don't have as clear an image of the other characters as I do of him. I can't write anything from him without hearing it in Peter Dinklage's voice.
As for the analysis, nice idea, but Roman didn't mean that he physically killed the boy. He was just saying he was killed as a result of his actions.
I also believe the Roman situation is not a problem. It's a fact that Peter Dinklage makes everything better, even a story that is already amazing
As for his sentence, that was what I thought as well. Should have been more clear here, but I understood that Roman never killed the boy physically, but that he thinks he killed him indirectly, as a result of his actions. Since I had the opinion he sounded so bitter in this moment, I got the impression he's not too fond of the games himself.
Ah, I get you. He has a different perspective on the games. That will be treaded upon more in the next Theo chapter.
Chapter 22: Warm Winds
Marten Lewis
The stone in the creek... Marten's mother's words had resonated with him ever since she'd uttered them. There was something about the image of it that was inspiring. The stone, unyielding, beside it's brothers and sisters in a world that didn't want it to there. The Games were like that creek... Marten wasn't sure he could stand against them.
"You have one hour." Stated Marc Bishoppe plainly. Marten could tell the man didn't care whether he was alive or dead. Typical from the Capitol... "Gather your things together. You are allowed to take one token with you into the arena. Talk to your family. They clearly care much about you. In sixty minutes, I will leave and you will be by my side. I will wait outside."
And when the door closed behind him, Marten knew the decision was final. The three women around him in the room knew it too. Salla couldn't help but immediately burst into tears. Willy followed closely after her. Myra was clearly feeling more anger than solemnity, uttering atrocities under her breath at the escort from the window.
"Don't..." Marten told her. "Don't blame it on him Aunt Myra."
She turned to see him and looked hurt. "What do you mean? Of course I can blame it on him! At any point, he could have turned right around and dragged his ass back to the Capitol."
"But he was under orders."
"So are the Peacekeepers. Doesn't give them excuses to be assholes!" She frowned. "Why are you defending the Capitol? They're the ones who stole you out of your home. They're forcing you to death! There is no reason the Capitol should not have the blame? Why do they get to decide your fate?"
"Because I smashed a boy's face in with my bare hands..." Marten said. His aunt was instantly quieted down.
Willy took a step back and stood by the wall. "My brother... Is going to be in the Hunger Games..." She sighed. "God, how did it come to this? You're a good kid, Marten." Marten, as usual, couldn't find the words to reply. They stuck in his throat like glue. "I can't imagine what the Games could do to a person..."
"You've watched them on TV." His mother said. "They are what they are: savage. Nothing good has ever come from that damn show and nothing ever will."
"I haven't even watched them since they killed the victor from Six." Myra opened the violet curtains just enough to see the escort outside drinking from a small glass. "That was fucking bullshit."
"Myra, language." Salla told her.
"Who gives a shit?!" She cried. "Marten's going to fucking die! You're worried about goddamn words when that asshole is out there threatening to take your son away! You're so petty, Salla!"
There were tears leaking from her eyes. She had been trying to hide them. A week ago Marten might have cried too. He was scared at the fact that the only emotion he could feel right now was pain for his family. He felt no fear... He felt no sadness... Just pain and regret... He wanted to reassure them that he would be fine and that he would live through this. Marten was not a lying man.
"You think I don't feel this?" Marten's mother screamed at her sister. "I've been up ever since he was arrested worrying about him! I haven't slept in days! I haven't been able to eat anything without vomiting it up the next hour! Don't talk to me about this... I can't handle anymore."
"Mum..." Marten said. He couldn't think of any more to say, but from the way she reached out to wrap her arms around him, he knew it was enough. He watched over her shoulder as her curly brown hair swung behind her head. It was startling to think that today might be the last time he ever saw his mother, or any of them... Vinni, Ty, Uncle Bren... He'd never see any of them...
Marten felt a presence on his shoulder. He turned to see Willy, looking him solemnly in the eye. "I have to show you something..." She told him. He followed her around the corner and up the stairs. The screams of his mother and aunt could still be understood clearly. Marten chose not to listen to them.
Once they stepped into the room that was his sisters', Willy shut the door behind them. She sat on the bottom bunk of the bed on the left side of the room. That one was hers. The other three belonged to Rhoda, his little sister. And the twins, Denna and Faith, his cousins. Marten took a spot on the bed across from her.
"I wish I could go fishing with you one last time..." Willy said. "Do you think the guy out front would notice if we snuck out the back?"
"I wouldn't risk it." Marten replied. "They can't hurt me because I'm the tribute... You're free game..."
She sighed and looked down at the boards creaking at her feet. "Do you remember when Uncle Went forced us all to stay in bed at night because the boards would make noises when we got up and woke him up?" Marten nodded. "We all thought he was the devil at the time... Wouldn't let us go to the bathroom. Seems silly now doesn't it? I would give anything to go back to petty problems like that. The world was a lot simpler when we could walk from one side of it to the other in the span of an hour."
"The world has always been the same size..." Marten replied.
"You know what I mean." She said. "When we were younger District 4 seemed like the entire world since it was the only place we ever were. I guess you'll be seeing a lot more of it soon. That's the good side of being a tribute I guess..." Something about the way she said that was almost cold, and she realized it had come out wrong. "I mean... It's terrible- I- You know what I mean..."
"Yeah..."
Myra's screams could be heard from underneath his feet. "I can't believe you!" She shouted at Salla. Marten didn't blame them. They had been at each other's throats ever since Salla's birth. Any time the two of them were in the same room together there was tension, and with Marten's sentence, it had just made the ice thinner. He wondered if Marc Bishoppe could hear them.
"Don't mind them, Marten." Willy told him, bending down for something beneath her bed. She took out a small cardboard box the size of a house cat. When she opened it up, she reached inside and pulled out a... A baseball cap.
"What's that?" Marten asked her.
"This was Grandad's." She replied. The hat was orange with the fish shaped insignia of the family business inscribed on the front. "Before he died... He wanted you to have this. I couldn't think of a better time to give it to you than now..."
Marten took the cap from his sister and peered down onto it. He imagined it on Grandad's head when he founded the company all those years ago. Surely he could have given it to any of his sons, Marten's uncles... Why was he chosen among them all? After all, as so many had told him, he was nothing...
"Mr. Bishoppe said you could bring something with you into the arena." Willy told him. "This could be your token. In sure others will bring weapons and other useful things, but if it were me, I'd want to bring something that meant something to me. If I had to die, at least I'd die with a scrap of myself left."
"Don't think about that..." Spoke Marten softly. It was tempting, although he's never been fond of hats. Yes, they kept the sun out of his eyes, yet they also blocked an entire direction of vision. That being said, the hat was very soft, and as he put it onto his head, he felt like he was at home.
He had been thinking of taking another item as his token. He stood up, pushed open the door and stepped into his own room. His bed, the lower bunk in the back right, was completely covered with his fishing poles and sacks of bait. He had been planning to go out the next morning the night that it happened. He opened the case of lures and found what he considered his prize possession.
It was a small fishhook about a quarter inch long, completely blunt and scratched up from its use. He used it to catch his very first trout back when he was only five-years-old. It was one of his first memories of his father before he was imprisoned, and he'd kept it as a memento ever since. It felt almost unnatural to be without it.
He carried it into his sisters' room where Willy sat and showed it to her. "What's that?" She asked.
"My first fishhook." He replied plainly, taking off Grandad's cap and holding it in his right hand while the hook took its place in his left.
Willy looked from one item to the other and scoffed angrily. "You shouldn't even have to choose this... The Capitol is already taking everything from you. Why do they have to take your only possessions as well?"
Marten peered down and weighed each of the two in his hand. Each held value to him. To choose between the two was unbearable, but he was able to make the decision. Choosing came easily to him... Choosing to kill Ronn in the creek was an easy choice... Why shouldn't this be?
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Been too long man, somehow I missed the last call out.
Yeah sorry about the long wait. I've come to the conclusion after many attempts that is very difficult to run two fanfictions at the same time
Oh, you got it wrong man. You are making this for your own fun.
We are not entitled to anything.
Do it 'till you want to.
Thanks but I'd still like to be putting them out at a decent rate.
60% of readers chose to [A. Take the hat as token.]
Taking each of the items in his hand, he lifted one above the other. The cap of his grandfather's business felt like a reminder of his family. Every time he felt it on his head would bring to him thoughts of what it felt like to be home. It would be his lifeline in the midst of all the death and destruction.
"I'll take the hat." Marten told his sister. "I have to remember who I am. It's been getting harder the past few days. This will help. Thank you, Willy."
Willy smiled as he fit the cap onto his head. "It's a good look for you." She said. He handed the fishhook in his hand to her. Willy looked at it for a moment and then back to him. "You're not going to die, you know... You'll be great at the business. You were born for it."
Marten could have used the fishhook in the arena. He wouldn't have had to worry about food as long as there was any sort of body of water nearby. The other tributes certainly wouldn't know their way around a rod. Although, in a way, he was glad it was staying home with his sister. It was safer here than it would be in his hands.
"The wind's always warmer this side of the creek..." Willy spoke softly, brushing a strand of curly blonde hair from her face.
"What?" Marten asked. It was a phrase he hadn't heard before.
"It's something Pop used to say a lot before he was arrested. You might not remember it. You were really little at the time. The wind's always warmer this side of the creek..." She repeated. "I guess it was his way of saying enjoy the time you got while you have it. It's only going to get worse."
Marten vaguely remembered his father mentioning this, but as she mentioned, he was very young when it happened. He leaned against the bedside and took a moment to contemplate what the words meant. Zak was a very reserved man. Whenever he spoke it was not without purpose.
"I can't think of any time that's more true than now..." Willy began to cry, looking Marten in the eyes. "I'm going to miss you, little bro. You know that?"
"Of course..." Marten replied. "I'll miss you too."
"You know... Back at the creek, when you killed the carpenter's boy, I saw a part of you I'd never seen before. I saw a part of you that I didn't think existed." She covered her mouth with one of her hand to keep herself from sobbing. "But... I don't know what you're capable of, Marten. Maybe you're more like Pop than I'd thought..."
"Maybe..."
"Just..." She choked out the words like she couldn't believe she was uttering them. "When you get to the arena, unleash that side of you. Don't show mercy... I don't want to recognize you... And when you get to the Capitol, after you win..."
"What?" He asked after her pause. She couldn't make out the words in between her sobs.
"Don't hold back..." She uttered. "Marten... You can't let them live. Don't... Don't hold back..."
"I won't..."
"I love you..." She hung her head in sorrow and Marten sat beside her, wrapping her in his beefy arms. She set her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes. He wasn't the best at showing it, but he loved her too.
He gazed past her and saw the reflection of himself in the mirror. The hat fit snugly on his head, proudly displaying the sigil of the Lewis family. It frightened him to know that after he boarded the train for the Capitol, this would be the only remainder of his possessions. It would be the only piece left of his home. The winds were warmer here. He wanted so badly to stay, but the creek flowed ever on...
End of Chapter 22
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I dunno, wasn't that fishook blunt? I'm not a good fisher, but wouldn't a blunt fishook would be useless for catching fish?
Another great chapter! Once again, apologies for me not commenting on the last part. Both parts of this chapter were great and I liked the choice to choose his token. However, I ultimately decided for the hat, not only for the sentimental value, but also because there is no way they would have accepted the fishing hook. If it would have been good enough to catch fish, it would have been an advantage for the him and as far as I know, no token is allowed to give the tribute an advantage. The hat might already be problematic, but if it doesn't give much protection against the elements, it might just pass.
He could sharpen it.
Oh, you're fine. And I would have chosen the hat too, for the reasons you described and mostly because Willy asked him to.
That is true, very true. Why did I think about it?
@mr.quality @janitor @supersagig @UkilledKenny @AAA_Jane @xSensus @WildlingKing @LiquidChicagoTed @TheLier @TWD_stan
Hey guys, from now on, I suppose I'll tag you in the chapter releases. If you don't want me to tag you, just tell me and I won't next time.
Chapter 23: Goodbye
Marten Lewis
Marten had never liked living in Four, but it was his home. It was all he had ever known. According to Mr. Bishoppe, Marten had been missing out his whole life. He didn't need the man to tell him what he'd already known since the day he was born. Kids from Four were born tougher than kids from the Capitol. He doubted Marc Bishoppe had ever tasted blood before. He'd seen plenty on TV, but he didn't know what it felt like to have it on your hands.
"I think you're going to like it in the Capitol, son." Marc smiled through his well-coiffed mustache. "There is enough food just one supper to feed your whole family for a week here."
Marten smiled back joylessly. He tried to keep up conversation to be polite even though a large part of him didn't want to. "With all due respect, I doubt that. My family's fifty-seven and counting."
"Counting up or down?" He chuckled. When Marten didn't follow along, he coughed and knew he had crossed a line. Marten liked him on the other side of it.
The winds had changed throughout the week. They blew calmly as a short breeze earlier, but now they were faster and colder. It was almost as if the air itself were just as aligned against him as the Capitol was. He reached up and held his hat closely to his scalp as the wind attempted to pry it from him.
The pathway between the Lewis' house and the rest of District Four was calm. The dirt felt good under his feet. It meant he still had the strength to walk. The leaves brushed together and the crickets sang and the frogs chirped in their ponds leaving the beautiful nighttime ambience that Marten loved about this place. From the look on Bishoppe's face as he swatted away a fly, Marten could tell he didn't see it the same way that he did. He would be giving this up within the hour. He took every moment and every thought he had to say goodbye to it. He knew it would be the last time he would ever see it.
"What is it like to go fishing?" Bishoppe asked from beside him. Marten looked over and saw a man whose face read that he only wanted to make conversation. "I can see you were part of a business." He pointed to the Trout insignia on Marten's hat.
"Why do you ask?"
"We don't have fish in the Capitol." He replied plainly. "We have lakes and ponds, but the animal rights group had them removed. What is it like to stand in a river?"
Animal rights group? Marten laughed internally. The Capitol is handing out rights to fish when they slaughtered their own citizens on live television? That cemented the notion in his mind; he would not enjoy the Capitol and all its hypocrisies.
"It's about as you'd expect." Marten replied to the man. "Lots of waiting. A little bit of action every now and then if you're lucky... Takes patience."
"Patience..." He laughed briefly. "My wife tells me I don't have an ounce of the stuff." They kept on the road through the forest and the night until the faintest light could be seen on the edge of the horizon where the town and the justice building were. Marten was sure it was close to Three a.m. Of course, with Four being one of the furthest districts from the Capitol, he had to board the train at this ungodly hour to make it there at the same time as the tributes from the other Districts. Marc broke the silence after it had become painful for him. "I think you're very brave."
"What?" He raised an eyebrow.
Bishoppe wiped a strand of black hair that had fallen down from his obvious toupee back where it came. "Going into the Hunger Games. I don't think I could handle the stress. You're very courageous for someone your age."
Even though Marten could freely use his arms, he still felt as though he were handcuffed and being led by the neck. Coming from a family who grew up in the water, captivity didn't sit well with him. "I didn't have a damn choice." Marten snarled.
"I was just trying to compliment you..." He seemed hurt. As they closely approached the town, Marc began to slow down and after a moment, stopped to reach into his jacket. "I was told to deliver this to you before we arrived in District Four. So here you are."
He pulled from his coat an envelope made of expensive-looking paper. Marten could barely see, but he held it in a direction, using the light seeping through the trees, to make out what it said. It was in a form of lettering Marten had never seen before. The letters were flowing with as if they had been written by a quill pen and ink. Whoever had sent it clearly spent a great deal of time with their calligraphy. He stared at the words for a few more moments before he could clearly read what they said.
They read, from top to bottom, "From a Friend."
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A shorter part, but sweet as always. That Bishoppe is really getting on my nerves though. Again, he is a great example for a capitol character, whom you write perfectly. As for the choice, I decided to open the letter now. I'm curious and see little reason to wait. Who knows what happens later.
Thanks for the feedback! As for the reason to wait, I meant that because it would be under the eyes of someone from the Capitol.
@mr.quality @janitor @supersagig @UkilledKenny @AAA_Jane @xSensus @WildlingKing @LiquidChicagoTed @TheLier @TWD_stan
67% of readers chose to [A. Open the letter.]
The envelope almost smelled of tea. Surely it wasn't scented... There was no way anyone in District Four was wealthy enough to worry about sending a fancy card like this, especially not to him. This came from somewhere else... Marten had never known anyone who came from far away. Curiosity got the best of him easily.
He tore the seal open hungrily and withdrew a slip of paper that had been stashed inside. It gave off the same air of elegance as the envelope itself did. Marten took care when lifting open the flaps to reveal the message inside. Inside the cover was a sketch of what looked like a... A bird, maybe? No, an Owl.
It took him a long time to decipher what the calligraphy read, but after a moment, he was able to make it out. "Remember who your true friends are." It read. "Remember who you are. You are far from nothing." And then it was signed, Schrodinger. Something was weird about the signature, though. The first letter... It was backwards, resembling a Z more than an S. Marten was left just as in the dark as he was before opening the envelope.
Just reading the words seemed foreign to him. He was far from nothing... Who the hell was this man, and how did he know about what had been happening to him the past couple days? How could he know what the cuts carved into his back read? Or what they meant? The envelope said it was from a friend. But how could they be friends if Marten had never met him?
"Schrodinger? Do you have any idea who that is?" Marc Bishoppe asked, peering over his shoulder. When Marten didn't answer him, he seemed disappointed. "It's awfully cruel to make me travel all this way as a delivery boy, but keep me in the dark as to why..."
Marten scowled, his confusion turning into anger and his anger into paranoia. "Who gave this to you? Where did you get it?"
"Just some Peacekeeper from the Justice Building." He replied. "I swear, I have no damn idea what it is." That didn't add up. There was no way this letter came from someone like a Peacekeeper. They were probably just as much a messenger as Mr. Bishoppe was. "You know that old saying, 'Curiosity killed the cat?'" He laughed. "Well now it's killing me..."
The stroll into town was a peaceful one. Once they reached the outskirts, there were instantly Peacekeepers with their dark visors patrolling the streets. Many of them recognized Marten on sight and marched up to the two of them angrily only to be swatted away by a small piece of registration Marc Bishoppe presented before them. He couldn't see any of their faces, but he could tell more than a few of them wanted to end his life by their own hands.
"You see my boy," Bishoppe said before the Justice Building appeared before them, unenthusiastically. "There is power in words. There is power too in the ones carved into your back."
"My scars have no power." Marten replied. "They're only painful and humiliating."
"Ah." He raised a finger in the air, as if to contradict. "The citizens of the Capitol will not see it that way. You see 'I am nothing.' They will see something much different."
The Justice Building was grandiose and elegant, taller by far than any other by any other building in the entirety of Four. It was white marble while all others were crooked oak. It had pillars for support while others had beams. And the spotlights outside made it clear that the Capitol wanted the District to know very well that it was superior. Marten spat on the steps with a ball of saliva that had been in the back of his throat since he left home. He was sure Bishoppe didn't see him do it, since he would have said something preposterous if he had.
"Isn't it marvelous?" Bishoppe asked him with a grin painted over his face. It did put the other buildings to shame, but Marten gave it low regards specifically for that reason. "The architecture is somewhat artistic, I think. It's called the Justice Building... It's built to look exactly like the ideal it represents."
"Glorious." Marten said, humoring him.
Bishoppe continued up the steps, walking slower to take it in. "There's something breathtaking about it. And I don't say that lightly; I'm from the Capitol." Could this man possibly have a more inflated ego?
Marten pushed open the double doors into the Justice Building while his escort was still outside gawking at the architecture. Inside of the giant pillar into the sky was a hall with a tall domed ceiling. At the other end from him, past the rows of waiting chairs was the front desk. The light just above was the only one in the room, and around it stood two others.
As he stood closer, he got a good look of them. There was a girl slightly younger than him. She had a full head of gorgeous dark blonde hair and brown eyes that pierced directly through him. She had a roguish look about her, and Marten knew she could kick his ass without thinking about it twice. Marten placed the other woman around thirty. She was the shortest in the room by far, and she looked very sweet. She smiled as Marten approached them.
"It's about time you showed up." The younger girl laughed. "We would have left without you if it wasn't fucking treason."
"Welcome, Marten." The kind woman told him, her green eyes radiated a type of warmth he'd only ever seen from members of his family. "If you'll sit down?"
Marten took her up on her offer and took a seat in one of the chairs behind them. Sitting down felt good. He hadn't done it since he left home.
"Mags!" Marc shouted across the room as he strode in the doors. He raised his arms to the sky and smiled. "Come here, my old friend!" He was laughing in a friendly way all the way over to the other side of the hall, wrapping his arms around the woman named Mags. As she hugged him back, Marten could tell she was just was fond of him as he was of her. "It's been too long!"
"It has." Mags said. Her voice was soft and kind. "You weren't involved last year! I thought they had hired someone new."
"Marten Lewis, meet the two lovely women that will be accompanying us into the Capitol!" Marc had a strange way about him, seeming excited and uncaring at the same time. "This is Mags Flanagan, your mentor. She was a victor of the Ninth Annual Hunger Games from your very own District!"
"I was." Mags replied. How could this woman have been a victor? She looked so innocent, and so kind. Marten couldn't picture her holding a weapon, much less thrusting it into another person. And she seemed so happy...? In a roundabout way, she gave Marten a bit of hope. If she had retained who she was after going through something as devastating as the Games, maybe he could too.
Bishoppe strolled past the mentor to the other girl who Marten knew was the female tribute. She nodded back at him proudly. "And this is-"
"I can introduce myself." She interrupted him. "My name is Delmara Lum."
She reached out her arm for a handshake and Marten took it. Her grip was firm and confident. "Marten." He replied, simply.
"Now!" Marc exclaimed excitedly. "Now that introductions are out of the way, I think we'll grow to enjoy one another! District Four has a real shot this year I believe."
"Yeah, we do!" Delmara agreed, followed shortly by victory cry. The Career Districts always had a chance, and Four was one of them. Most of the victors were always from One, Two and Four, but occasionally the others took their shot. Marten had never gone in with the Career crowd. They were loud, preppy and obnoxious. It was overwhelmingly clear that Delmara was among them.
"This is going to be such a good year!" Bishoppe continued. "I've said that of many other years, but not yet have we had a brutal killer and a survival expert as our tributes. You will do very well."
Delmara glanced at him, slightly surprised, although Marten could tell she couldn't care less of his history. He was impressed with her though. Marc had called her a survival expert. He wondered what exactly did that entailed. Perhaps she had spent a few weeks living by herself. Marten had heard of people doing that to train themselves for the Games. It was a loophole around the Capitol's Career training law. You couldn't detain someone for "camping."
The four of them in the main hall of the Justice Building exchanged their pleasantries for a moment longer. While they were all very friendly, Marten kept the thought in the back of his mind that this was all petty and useless. Everyone knew what they were doing. Everyone knew that in a few weeks time, both Marten and Delmara would likely be dead. When none of them acted as though that weren't the only reason they were meeting in the first place, it infuriated Marten. But of course, real emotions had no place in a conversation like this. "Bitterness and hate should and will be left at the welcome mat," the men and women from the Capitol always liked to say.
They all began to travel through the dimly lit town to the train station, although as soon as they stepped foot outside, there were three Peacekeepers following closely behind, reminding them that they were still prisoners. When they spoke, all three of them told stories and laughed like they weren't under surveillance with every word. Being the silent one could always be handy...
Mags had been the mentor for the tributes of District Four for years, ever since the Capitol had decided to appoint them. She told them why the President had picked her rather than one of the more capable and ferocious victors from Four to stand in that place. It was because their district was a breeding hive of victors. The Career Districts won almost every year, so the Capitol thought perhaps it would help even the odds if they put a tamer mentor in charge of them. Judging by the last three victors coming from One and Two, Marten could tell it hadn't worked.
Delmara had a twin brother named Lyno back home. According to her, they hadn't left eachother striking a good chord, since they had both volunteered as a Career. Other than him, though, she hadn't have much of a family except her friends at the Career Facility. Of course, she hadn't actually mentioned the Careers with the Peacekeepers standing so close by, but she implied it. She and her family grew up hungry, starving even, having to take whatever work she could get alongside her parents and her brother to feed herself. Something in Marten's throat clenched when he heard that. Surely, if they had known each other before all this, his family would have given her a home. They made enough money with the family business to support a lot of people. He was sure they could have taken one more. Anything to save her from that life...
Bishoppe didn't have much of a story to tell, or at least, he wished not to tell it. He simply walked along side as the girls chatted away, listening and giving his input whenever it was needed. Marten wondered if it was to maintain a sort of secrecy... No. From how Marc talked, he knew the man couldn't keep his mouth shut for a damn second.
When the group arrived at the station, the door was already open, ready to receive them immediately. The lights above them were set to the highest brightness, making this area the brightest in the whole town. Maybe it had forgotten to go to sleep with the rest of the town.
The train was sleek, metallic and chrome. It was easily the shiniest object Marten had ever seen. The entirety of the rail was only a couple cars long. He wondered why there was even more than one car in the first place. How much space did they really need? When he stepped inside, he was stunned. The wallpaper was covered with the image of a white rose. Scented candles stood, lit brightly, on whatever surface was free. Instead of the normal train car setup he was used to, with rows of chairs, there was instead white velvet couches lining either wall, and the back. In the center of them, there was a glass table above a shag carpet. The Capitol had so much wealth, it leaked first class into its transportation...
"This is nice!" Delmara smiled, instantly running to the sofa and cuddling up against the vast array of feather pillows they had set out. "Is the rest of the Capitol like this?"
"The Capitol is better." Marc replied, taking a seat on the couches with her. Mags and Marten both stepped inside the car before the doors rolled closed. "You know, they call it the Golden City. The beds are softer. The wines are sweeter."
"Can I move there when I win?" She lifted an eyebrow in a joking manner.
"You can't move to the Capitol..." He sighed. "But, you will be invited back for banquets and gatherings very often. You will be a celebrity! The whole of Panem will love and fear your name!"
As Delmara squeezed a pillow closer to herself in excitement, Marten leaned towards his mentor and asked her. "Do they fear your name?"
"They don't fear me, honey." Mags smiled. "They just know who I am."
"Have a seat, my dear old friend!" Marc gestured to Mags, and then to Marten. "And my new one!"
Mags nodded and went to sit down by the escort from the Capitol, but Marten took a moment to gaze out the window before taking his seat. This was the last time he would ever look upon the land that was his home. He would never go fishing in the creek again. He would never eat a meal at the long table again... He would never see his family again... He placed his hand on the porthole as the train began to slowly start to speed up. Goodbye... He said it while he still had the chance.
"Sit down, my boy!" Marc Bishoppe exclaimed. When Marten turned around, the man already had a cup of wine in his grasp. He held it toward him in offering. "Your new life awaits you!"
End of Chapter 23
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Good part. @TeamKennyW00t
Edit: it appears the replies are fixed now.
Schrodinger again! Now this is really intriguing. I mean, I have already speculated that Schrodinger has an agenda for more than one tribute, but this kinda smashes my theory that he is Aura's father. Now I am pretty sure that Schrodinger is someone from the Capitol, because who else could be powerful enough to get into contact with a girl from District Seven and a boy from District 4? It gets even more intriguing since this Schrodinger person apparently knows what Marten screamed when he killed that guy. So, someone with access to surveillance material, I'd say and someone resourceful enough to make sure that Aura is going to find her owl pendant after returning home from the day with Cass. That means Schrodinger is probably someone powerful within the Capitol government, or perhaps a member of District 13. Anyways, amazing part! Sorry that it took me a little longer to comment, had a lot to do in the last two days.
I love all the speculation haha. I've been hinting at the identity of Schrodinger since near the beginning actually. I suppose it's not surprising that he/she is going to play a vital role in the overarcing plot of the story.
Very probable. I would vote for someone from the Captiol. District 13 does not really have that much influnce over the games, no?
What did you guys think of the new/old characters?
I somewhat have a feeling that Bishoppe can come around and realise that the Games are wrong. Just a hunch though! I love how you write the Capitol characters so perfectly, it's almost as if you're Suzanne Collins herself imo haha :P
Anyways, I voted for Marten to open the letter, I'm curious af as to what's inside.
I somewhat have a feeling that Bishoppe can come around and realise that the Games are wrong. Just a hunch though! I love how you write the Capitol characters so perfectly, it's almost as if you're Suzanne Collins herself imo haha :P
Anyways, I voted for Marten to open the letter, I'm curious af as to what's inside.
Yet another amazing chapter. I'm truly sorry for being inactive in this fanfic for the past couple of days, I was on vacation haha.
Anyways, enough with the excuses ^^. This part was amazing and you've already got me hating on Delmara. She just has that bratty personality and it's making me sick ;-; off with her head.
Who says I'm not? :P