masks.— [sinead/abel]

[Deleted]

I wasn't here to make friends or even alliances for that matter. I was here to win. Here to put a fork in the road that was created when Six was reaped. The moment that Six was reaped, the O'Malley's started on a path towards our graves. I know that has to be the case. There's no way Prop got reaped with a broken leg the very next reaping if there wasn't some greater force at play. But, I could change it. By winning, I would divert us off of the course towards our own doom.

And, imagine the look of pride on Dads face. And on Cains face. I would have proven myself once and for all, without having to even become a Peacekeeper. I would prove myself to be a man and to be an O'Malley. I'd accomplish what both Six and Winger had failed at. And I would do it because God would protect me. Six had faith in God, but what he didn't realise was God had planned for him to die. Yet, God wanted Prop to die this time. And I changed that fate.

But, if I wanted to win, I needed to play smart. Having an alliance was a bad idea. That Evan guy blatantly wanted to kill Six last year. Julian Le Roux killed Waverly St. Amor. Mauve Morganstern killed Bubby Caro. Alliances mean nothing, except that people get to see all of your weaknesses under the guise of friendship. But, that didn't mean I couldn't have "friends". I use the term loosely. By "friends" I mean people who would prefer me alive to dead. People who if given the choice between attacking me or a stranger would rather attack the stranger. I needed people to like me, even if what they liked was merely a mask.

And I needed to start on my plans as soon as possible. As soon as the day I entered the Capitol. Having careers on my side would be a good thing, but they're also determined. Determined to kill. And for all I know about their training, they might be trained to read people. No, I needed to start small and work my way up. And during dinner my first day there, I may have found the perfect target. The girl from district Twelve. Maybe Evan, watching from Hell, would be proud. After all, he knows a few things about deception, doesn't he?

She was sitting all alone at dinner and didn't seem particularly threatening. Plus if I remember right she wasn't a volunteer, meaning she might be looking for any semblance of hope to cling to. Just like Six was when he chose to trust someone like Evan Macmillian. My plate was pretty full, after all, even with Dads job and us having a much smaller family than my cousins, food can be hard to come by in Eleven. And even when we had enough to eat, it wasn't near as good as this shit was. I was just upset they refused to serve me wine with my meal. Nothing like a nice wine to pair with steak.

I made my way over to the girl and sat across from her at the table, giving her a fake smile. One thing I had going for me is I didn't look particularly threatening. Sometimes it bothered me. I almost looked like a feminine or "soft" version of Cain. I didn't want to be feminine. I didn't want to be soft. O'Malley men weren't supposed to be like that. But now? Now it might help me gain some false trust.

"Hey Twelve, right? I'm Abel, from Eleven. How have you been enjoying your first day at the Capitol so far?"

[ table by griffin ]

[bailee]

If the tributes she was up against weren't scary enough, the dining hall definitely did it in for her.

Back home, she never had to fear about sitting alone. Her and her friends would all gather at their unofficial assigned table, and they would laugh and gossip and chatter until the lunch period was over. Every once in a while, Sinead would catch a glimpse of one boy in a corner, his head curled into his arms as he lay in solitude against the old, rustic cafeteria tables.

She never understood his desire to hide until now. She felt vulnerable, exposed to the wolves of the training centre. She felt judged by crowds of kids her age just waiting to sink their fangs into her neck and suck on the sweet, sultry blood of the girl from District Twelve who really never stood a chance. 

To Sinead, solitude was a scarier ending than death. At least with death, its embrace was warm and comforting. Solitude was a recipe for madness - and all the things that came with it.

That was, until the boy from Eleven approached her, and she finally relaxed, the silence of solitude finally breaking its hold on her.

The boy from Eleven - Abel? - seemed to be gentle, kind with his words, but Sinead knew to never underestimate the tributes. After all - little Flynn Garner laid to rest some of the scariest tributes in the 87th, and he was nothing but a little middle schooler. 

But Sinead was also desperate for allies, and if she didn't find any soon, she was sure she would be alone in the arena, which would seal her casket and a one-way trip back to District Twelve. 

"Sinead," she responded, as she eyed Abel. Sinead felt at ease around him - like he was someone who could be trusted, but she knew not to make any early judgements. "The Capitol is much better than the lower districts slums, amiright?" Her voice cracked with her nervousness, and she quickly cleared her throat to attempt to mask it.

First impressions were everything, and she knew she needed to make friends quick. 

"What do you think of... everyone else, so far?" She figured it wouldn't hurt to gather some information about the others. After all, the only tribute she had really interacted with was Cedric and well... if they were as maniac as he, she was in a world of trouble. 

[Deleted]

She was nervous, that much was obvious. I didn't think she was one of the volunteers - she didn't want to be here. Actually, I doubted any of us truly wanted to be here in the end, volunteer or not. Personally, I'd prefer to be snuggled up at home on the couch, reading a book or wrestling with Cain. I was here because I was doing what had to be done. That's what I tried to explain to Cain, but he just didn't seem to get it. Hopefully he'd understand when I was the last one left.

I was relieved when she didn't ask about last names nor mention her own. Luckily, other than the freckles I didn't look too much like my cousins other than Lock. I love Six, I cried when he died. But right now, I didn't need associated with him. To the Capitol and other tributes, he probably looked weak. I don't need that stigma attached already. I didn't need to look weak, to look like a target. Even if I doubted this girl would make it far, people can surprise you like the brutality of Evan MacMillan.

"Yeah, it's definitely better than Eleven, even though my Dads job has us living in a nicer part of the district it's nothing compared to this. And I can't even imagine what Twelve is like."

I told myself I was acting, that I was distancing myself mentally. But... I didn't have to think about my answers. I just spoke like I spoke to my friends at home. It almost felt nice for a moment. Like at any second Cain would come over and join us, or one of my little cousins would run over to say hi. But I mentally scolded myself for even considering making this person a friend. I needed to be stronger than that, Cain wouldn't have any hesitation so neither could I.

"What do you think of... everyone else, so far?"

I honestly didn't know what to say, really. I spent most of the train ride so focused on survival, I never thought of what the other tributes might be like. And now that I was here in the Capitol? I was focusing on the mentors, the features of the Training Center, the food even. I hadn't really met any other tributes in the short time that I had been here, so I didn't have much to say. Though from their reaping videos alone I knew I wanted to avoid the upper districts.

"I haven't had much to form an opinion off of yet, I guess. Though it seems like there's just a ton of volunteers. But hey, you shouldn't be too worried. I feel like the tributes from Twelve flew under the radar enough last year to avoid making you a target, just take a breather... what do you think of everyone, Sinead?"

Lull her into a false sense of security, then stab her in the back right when she closes her eyes. She'll never see it coming. Make her relax, make her see you less and less of a threat. Less and less ready to defend herself in the arena.

[ table by griffin ]

[bailee]

The tributes from Twelve flew under the radar.

She didn't know whether that was a good thing or a bad thing. Evan Macmillan was a force to be reckoned with - even before he volunteered, he scared her shitless.  In a District as small as twelve, rumours spread like wildfire, and she had heard about quite a few fatal mishaps occurring at the mines his father managed. Even rumours that Evan himself were involved.

Sinead knew that if Evan hadn't been slaughtered so early on, he was a contender to bring twelve home another victor. I guess the other districts didn't view him the same way. She knew for sure that people back home didn't talk about her in such a manner - she had an awful feeling they all talked about Cedric, the boy with the psychopathic tendencies.

He was the tribute to watch, not Sinead. His gutwrenching smile on the train sent shivers down her spine just thinking about it.

To think about it, she already had a target down her back. From her tumble at her interview to her encounter with that pretty girl from District One, her fate was already sealed in the form of a coffin in a train back to District Twelve.

"A lot of volunteers," she repeated, as she took another bite of her food. 

Come to think of it, Abel was one of them.

Why was that?

Sinead didn't see Abel as a threat - to her, he looked just as puny as that other O'Malley from the 88th. Was it some noble sacrifice? Or were the O'Malley's just that stupid?

"Why did you volunteer?" She asked, as she crunched down on her mess hall meal. Her stomach growled with every bite she took, both with the hunger lying in her stomach and her hunger for answers.

Her mother always told het to stop being so nosy, but she thought maybe this time it was different. Based on his answer, she would be able to determine whether this guy was friend or foe.