small St★rs & | Steel | Bars | {Lulu, Matt}

[shrimp]

Who was the victor of last year's games? A role model that must be emulated at all costs? Perhaps she was, Ana assumed. Many from District 1 had been proud that their own Topaz Ross had been the girl to defeat the notoriously poor District 12, who had been barely surviving throughout the 56th Games. Clearly, they still posed a threat to Ana; the District 12 tributes this year looked rather strong-hearted, something that Ana had always admired in a person, except this time it meant that they wouldn't be killed easily. Those types of people people always had this way of sneaking past the initial competition, lingering in the arena for a while before actually posing a threat. And the last thing the girl wanted was a threat in the arena.

Therefore, it would probably be of the utmost importance to turn to Topaz Ross, victor of the 56th Games, to ask for her insight. The workings of the 16-year old girl would be very important to ensure the older tribute's survival. And now, she - well both she and he; York was here as well, were here, in the same room as this red-head. Maybe other tributes would immediately pounce on the female, asking her for strategies, or for her simple advice. But for some reason, words wouldn't come out of Ana's mouth. Quite simply, she did not know what to ask. Topaz's wisdom, while helpful, would not do much in the arena, where the environment and the people would be completely different than what she had faced the previous year.

It was true, that mentors had some control over their tribute's surviving the games. But Topaz's mentor had barely done anything the entire games - she got no items, something that would have seemed unheard of in previous games. Career districts almost always got sponsors. True, Topaz hadn't really needed the sponsors, but it just went to show how sometimes you couldn't rely on your mentor, or people from the outside world in these types off games. It was just yourself in the end, only you were able to prevent death from grasping you with its sickle and dragging you to the afterlife.

It would still be important to turn to Topaz, even if it was just for a reassuring statement, or to watch the girl, wondering how she was able to make it out of that thick crowd of tributes all begging for survival. The answer to that question would be simple; she killed. But others killed too. The District 4 tribute had killed three tributes in the bloodbath, and the girl from District 3 had managed to kill three in the entire duration of the games. So why had they perished while she hadn't? Ana thought for a moment, before the realization dawned on her.

Alliances. Yes, that must be it, she reasoned. Alliances were the difference between Topaz and Takeba, between Clarisse and Agatha. The former ones had an ally or two. They had someone to back them up, to watch out for anyone, or anything else in the arena. There was someone to talk to, someone to ensure that you wouldn't go insane from the sheer bloodlust that overwhelmed some tributes, such as the decapitated male from 6. The latter ones had none. They were betrayed, one by her former ally, the other by her district partner. Both died, alone in their own world, looked upon by another during their dying moments.

She didn't want that. No, Anastasia Fortescue wanted to survive. She wanted to thrive in the arena. Sure, the idea of working with another doomed tribute wasn't the most thrilling of ideas to the 17-year old, but it was something that might have to be done in order to survive. And this moment is where Topaz Ross would come into Ana's life. She had an ally. She lived. So therefore, it would be likely that having an ally would do her good, right? Yes... she assumed that it would, but perhaps asking Topaz would be a good idea. But words... Well speaking was never one of Anastasia's strong points. Oftentimes, she simply responded with yes-no answers, or got tongue-tied when being forced to give a longer response. So for now, she just stood there as the inklings of her plan formed in her mind.

The small "living room" of sorts was rather large, equipped with an array of soft couches and furry rugs. But the girl stood instead, staring out the window, which stretched across the wall, showing a panoramic view of the Capitol. Blue eyes blinked as the neon lights of the city blared garishly into the distance, painting the horizon with a rainbow-esque glow. Slowly, her eyes gazed upwards, towards the stars which were supposed to be hanging in the sky. But there weren't many at all. Ana had been rather disappointed when she saw the Capitol; the slightly polluted air had blocked most of the sky from her view, making it hard to get a glimpse of the stars which she had enjoyed gazing at those few days prior to today.

Her eyes squinted slightly as she tried to spot something, anything of beauty. She hadn't found the Capitol to be breathtaking - it was too artificial, too comparable to home. Home was where things were muttered about her behind her breath, where every breath oozed with pollution from both the factories and the self-absorbed attitude that many from District 1 utilized so frequently. Home was nothing to Anastasia, which is why the Capitol hadn't meant much to her either. Yes, the food had been tasty once she forced herself to eat a bit, but that was truly all that the Capitol had to offer. Things were too confusing here; too many buttons, too many gadgets and colored skin and piercings and tattoos that spoke of the love between Topaz and Nash Harvey.

How exactly had Nash's death affected the victor, Ana wondered. Sure, she had gone insane for a bit, and she brought that sleeping bag with her as well, but would something cause her not to approve Ana's plan of an alliance? What exactly had changed since Topaz's victory over 23 others? Anastasia didn't even know, and she was even in the same proximity as Topaz. Perhaps I should ask... she thought, but then doubts began to fill her mind. What would she think of such a personal question? Wouldn't it be rude to do something like that, to intrude on someone else's personal thoughts? Yes, it would. So why was she so intent on figuring more out about this girl? It was her curiosity, she realized. Her stupid curious mindset acquired from her gossip of a mother.

She turned around; Ana didn't want to look at the Capitol anymore, it just reminded her of the life she was forced to live back in 1. Life as a Career - the most hated tributes in the games, yet the most likely to win. The cheaters. Yes, it was technically illegal to train for the games, but nothing stopped those three districts, which simply showed why nobody liked them. Trained to kill, like assassins, Careers seemed to relish the pain that they gave others, or simply did not care about the murder that they willingly committed.

It made Ana a bit upset when she thought about how other tributes probably viewed her as. She wasn't particularly bloodthirsty, nor did she hold the games on such a high platform in her mind that she would do all she could to get it. Sure, she would like to win, but a part of her had already decided that she wouldn't get out of this alive, facing 23 others, one of which who was her cousin. So in this sense, she wasn't like the "typical Career", who had the drive and the power to go for the gold. Sure, she had some talent, but what was talent without the want for survival? Was it nothing? Something? Anything?

Sighing, the girl walked towards the couch, plopping on it in a rather ungraceful fashion. Yawning, she turned to look at Topaz, meaning to finally talk to her. She could do that, couldn't she? Topaz was the mentor, it was sort of her job to talk to the tributes. Finally deciding to talk to the girl, Ana stood up again, walking over to Topaz.

"Hey, Topaz?" She asked. "Umm...."

She hit a roadblock. What was she going to say? Her heart raced ever so slightly as she wondered about how idiotic she looked, trying to figure out what she wanted to say instead of already having a plan in her head. Wait, was that what she wanted to talk about? The plan? Perhaps, she thought, but it just didn't seem like the right time to talk about that, and it was her own plan after all. It wouldn't make much sense to ask Topaz in front of her cousin, who she wouldn't ally with even if he was the only remaining tribute to ally with on the face of the 57th Hunger Games. So she simply opened her mouth, and said the first thing that came to her mind.

"... Are you alright?"

[Lulu]

.:.:.:.:.:.:.
you were changing colors like the leaves in fall
i was saving up for the long winter
.:.:.:.:.:.:.

The sensation of waking up once more in the Training Center of the Capitol was an unnerving one, and Topaz Ross did not welcome it as the first rays of sunlight peeked through the window, shining over the shimmering city outside. She knew she should have drawn the blinds before going to sleep; a hour or so more of rest would have been salvageable if she had. Damn sun.

Try as she might, she could not shake the feeling that because she was here, she would have to wake up, get dressed, refuse breakfast and argue with Carmel as she had every morning that one week, and head down to training. It was too easy to pretend that her time in the arena and the months following it had all been but a dream and soon she would be shipped off to the wildlife death trap for real, to eventually be ruthlessly slaughtered by a couple of tributes or some other calamity the Gamemakers had concocted. Of course, if she was going down she'd take a handful of them with her, but that was beside the point. The point was that a large part of her wanted it all to have been a dream. Because if it was, then Nash Harvey was still alive. Nash Harvey was just a floor above her, probably sleeping, and would be at training just like her in a matter of hours. Of course, at that point they would mean next-to-nothing to each other, but Tope didn't care. Just seeing her alive, breathing, moving...that would be more than enough.

Thoughts of Nash immediately prompted her to feel around frantically to make sure nothing had happened to the sleeping bag she was enveloped in. Though it always felt empty without Nash, she still insisted on sleeping in it every single night, regardless of where she was. Her bed at home had not been unmade since before the 56th Reaping; she simply slept in the sleeping bag on top of it. For a fortnight or so after returning home, going anywhere without it tucked protectively under her arm brought back horrifying memories of a pool of blood and a slashing sword and a forehead that glistened red with the word 'mine', but time had allowed her to be more comfortable with being apart from it. As the days went on, coping without her lost love became more bearable. Far from easy, but at least easier than it had been so close to her death. Topaz would live. She would miss Nash with every ounce of her being, but she would live. And that was what mattered...right?

Being back in the Training Center, though, was still more upsetting than the red-haired victor would have liked to admit. Sure, she had spent the vast majority of the months since she'd emerged from the arena in the Capitol; she preferred it there to District One, which had now come to feel like a place she hardly knew. Everything looked the same - new, fancy mansion in Victor's Village excluded - but nothing felt the same. Her parents now fawned over their champion of a daughter, claiming themselves responsible for every right move she had made during the Games. They had chosen to largely ignore the fact that she had been head-over-heels for another girl and then killed her, pretending not to notice the recurring haunted look in their child's eyes whenever the name came up anywhere, nor did they comment on the fact that she slept in a sleeping bag despite the fact that she had a bed with covers. Sapphire, however, had acknowledged Nash's existence more than once; it had been clear from the start that the younger Ross girl had not approved of the relationship. She tried to hide it, but Topaz knew her sister well enough to know it upset her. She couldn't tell if it was homophobia or anything of the sort - she suspected it wasn't, but couldn't be sure. But Saph had tried to probe her for information on the bond between the two a couple of times, always sporting a frown, and gotten angry when she refused to answer. Or as angry as quiet, introverted Sapphire could get.

So that among other reasons was why she would rather interact with doting, starstruck Capitolites over people from what she considered to be her past life. She had used some of her acquired riches to purchase an apartment in one of the finer residential areas of the city, although she tended to avoid it unless she was going home to sleep; the solitude of the luxury urban flat was too much for her to handle. She preferred socializing, and as a victor she had no trouble getting into all the most notable Capitol parties. Which she did, of course, because dancing and drinking and laughing about shallow things with shallow people dressed in obnoxious outfits gave her a chance to forget, if only for a bit. The parties, the events, the publicity - they were all distractions she welcomed, distractions she would take advantage of as her heart embarked on the next-to-impossible quest to heal itself.

It was inevitable that she'd run into past victors, seeing as she spent so much time in the place where they were all revered as superstars. They warned her to stay away from the city as much as possible, because even though she was only seventeen now, the older she got the more they could do with her. The most popular stories were of victors' bodies being sold for astronomical profits - there were plenty of Capitolites who would pay copious amounts to spend a night with a victor, particularly one so young and who looked like Topaz did. The Capitol made hundreds of thousands exploiting their victors in this way, and if the champions refused? Well, there were plenty of ways to break them if they did. But at the moment, Tope didn't care - she'd deal with that when it came. Right now, the latest way the Capitol was torturing her was by forcing her to mentor the newly selected District One tributes for the 57th Hunger Games.

What were their names again? York and...Anastasia. Yes, that was it. She was fairly certain they were cousins, if she remembered correctly. Almost like Aranica and Anani, although they were brother and sister, not cousins, and they had been reaped separate years anyway. They hadn't had to face each other in the arena as these two would. But from what she'd seen of them so far, Anastasia and York didn't seem to be too affected by that prospect. Although she probably should have learned by now to stop making assumptions regarding tributes, because it was so easy to be wrong about them.

Glancing at the clock beside her bed, she decided she should probably get up now; after all, she'd promised the tributes she would give them some semblance of training this morning. Why did they want her advice, anyway? She'd hardly used any of her own mentor's advice in the arena. Topaz was fairly certain it worked the same for everyone, Career tribute or not - you thought your mentor's advice would be valuable, but then your plate rises and you see the giant golden Cornucopia looming up in front of you and it suddenly becomes a giant free-for-all with no sense of order whatsoever. Screw remembering advice - you'd be lucky if you remembered who your allies were at the end of the Bloodbath. And then on the off chance you made it through that? Your gut instinct was what mattered most for the duration of the Games, whether it killed you or not.

Nevertheless, though, she had promised. And maybe she'd be able to help them come up with a strategy that would be somewhat useful. At least then she couldn't be accused of not doing her job, however horrifying of a job it was. Unzipping the sleeping bag, she swung her legs out of it and placed her feet on the cold hardwood floor, remembering to settle her precious bedroll snugly between her pillow and the headboard for safekeeping as she did every morning before leaving the room. And then she walked out into the hallway she remembered so well - and really wanted to forget.

She had to admit, though, it would have been worse if she'd had to sleep in her old room, the one that was currently occupied by Anastasia. The mentor rooms at least had a different layout than the tribute ones, so she wasn't taunted by recollections too much. Or not as much as she would have been, anyway. Walking past the dining area did bring back memories of her constant refusal to eat in hopes that it would prepare her for the hunger that was to come. How stupid she had been, not to take advantage of the food she'd had while she had it.

The sitting area was her destination, a place that didn't remind her of many things considering she had been far too busy to sit down during most of her training week in the Capitol. They had watched their training scores flash on the screen there, and seen recaps of the interviews after they had happened. That was about it. Regardless of the neutrality of the placer, though, somehow it still managed to bring up thoughts of the things she missed most. Nash's tousled, dark hair, her deep brown eyes, their hands interlocked, the feel of her soft lips against her own...because of this Topaz was seated on the couch staring straight into the crackling flames of the fireplace, very obviously distracted, when the tributes came in. "Hey, Topaz?" She heard Anastasia ask, tentatively drawing nearer to her. "...are you alright?"

The question caught her completely off-guard, and blinking a few times she turned her gaze away from the fire. It reminded her far too much of the inferno that had surrounded the pillars during that final battle with Takeba, anyway; she really shouldn't have been staring at it. Was she alright? How could she be alright, when Nash was no longer with her? When her life now consisted of nothing but drinking and partying and television screens and smiling for the cameras and family and friends that no longer understood her at all? "...am I alright?"

[/color] She repeated, as if testing out the words to see how she felt on her tongue. No, she wasn't alright. She probably wouldn't ever be particularly 'alright' again. But she couldn't very well tell that to her tributes, who were counting on her, could she? "What...yeah, yeah I'm fine,"[/color] she insisted, rising and brushing herself off and pretending that she'd been completely focused the entire time. "Kind of have to be, right? I mean, I've got you two to look after."[/color] The victor vaguely registered that that comment could come off as rude. But then she remembered she didn't really care.

"So you're looking for some advice, right?"[/color] Obviously they were. Why was she even asking? It made her appear even less on top of things than she already seemed to be. Of course, they were probably better off without her advice...although she had won the Games. She'd beaten out twenty-three other teenagers to do so, and that had to count for something, right? And how had she done it? There was really only one answer to that. "Allies,"[/color] she said simply. Yes, alliances had helped her immensely. "Not a particularly large group, though."[/color] Her original team hadn't really done much of anything for her, had they? It was Nash who had been the key; she didn't know how far in the Games she would have gotten had it not been for the District Two girl. "Find yourself one other person, two maybe, who you feel comfortable with. But more than that is pushing it."[/color] And why was that? "Because the most important thing to remember is no alliances are permanent."[/color] No, they weren't. Whether they ended in flight and disbandment like her first alliance or in utter tragedy like she and Nash had, they would never last. So trusting anyone in the arena was pushing it.
[/blockquote]

.:.:.:.:.:.:.
cause i don't own the sun i don't own the moon
they only come out when they want to
they don't care whether i promised you
.:.:.:.:.:.:.

ooc-I'm really, really sorry I'm so incapable of concise posting D: I didn't mean for it to be this long D:

[/color]

[/size][/center] [/justify]

[Matt]

If there was one thing that I protested about being in the Capitol, it would definitely be the outrageous schedule. I had expected this to be a vacation, of sorts. Going to school already had me waking up far too early, and now these crazy individuals expected me to lose even more sleep? I'll be living outside for the next week. Is it necessary to deny me my beauty rest?

Today, training started later, so I was relieved I'd get to sleep in later. But, of course, that hope was soon crushed. Stasi had insisted we met with the victor of the previous Games, Dope-Ass Moss. At least, that's what those big jerks at school called her after she had kissed the female from District 2.

Stasi and I are getting along so well! Cousinly love, it must be. I've been calling her "Stasi", trying to ease the tension between us. She hasn't been returning the favor, keen on calling me nothing other than "Idiot." Still, I know she loves me. I mean, we're cousins, and who wouldn't love me?

To be honest, I'm not entirely sure why I must attend the meeting with the ginger girl from our District. I mean, I'm obviously going to get a ton of sponsors, and then I'll be best friends with everyone and they'll practically commit suicide for me to make it out of there alive. But, obviously Stasi would like to hear what she said, and I guess all it hurts is my sleep time.

So, we're sitting on the couch awkwardly until Ana stood up and started talking to Dope-Ass. "Hey Topaz? Umm....are you okay?" I let out a light laugh at how ignorant Stasi can be sometimes. She messed up our own mentor's name! I don't hesitate before speaking up.

"Um, Stasi? We're here to get advice from her, not ask personal questions and be best friends. If you want a friend, you always have me." I punch her shoulder playfully, before averting my attention over to Ms. Moss. She's rambling, obviously nervous. Most likely because I'm in the room, and my looks have that affect on people. Even if she does dig on chicks, no one can resist York Mentz.

She says something about forming an alliance with one person, and I finally come to the realization that Dope-Ass Moss is out to get us. "Whoah, wait a second, Dopey! You had a huge alliance, and you made it out alive! Obviously, you don't like us. That's it, Stasi. She wants us dead. You want to be the only District 1 victor, so you can get all of the attention! Well, listen here. Nobody wants to hurt me! I'm just too likable! I'm making it out of here alive, and you can't stop me!"

[shrimp]

The words that left the girl's mouth were somewhat soft, full of uncertainty. Of course, it had been a question; no doubt the syllables at the end would be a bit higher than the others, sprinkled with the emotion which needed to be released. But Ana's voice seemed smaller than usual, like she was a mouse talking to one of those hellhounds that had been in Topaz's games Almost as if by simply speaking, she had broken something important that had kept the girl from lashing out at her. She hadn't been sure of the mental stability of Topaz Ross - Topaz wasn't even in the Districts long enough for Ana to even study her in any form whatsoever, not like she'd do that or anything... Well she'd chalk it up to her mother's curious mindset if she ever found herself doing that.

Then York spoke, his stupid voice and pompous attitude making Ana's insides crawl with aggravation. Her cousin could be so dense sometimes, not realizing that the redhead in front of them could easily kill the boy with a common household object, and that the other girl in front of him was just a hair close to murdering him with a top hat. Feeling a rather weak punch aimed towards her shoulder, Ana subconsciously moved away from the blond dolt.

York Mentz was her cousin, not her friend. A friend wouldn't volunteer in order to win the games the same time that you were reaped. In most cases, the so-called friend wouldn't even do anything, not wanting to see their loved one die in front of their eyes. On the off chance that a friend would volunteer, most cases would entail protecting the other. But that never even happened, which further established the claim that York Mentz wasn't close to a friend at all. He was a nuisance, a pain in the ass and a liability. They boy didn't have much experience in fighting - he was as good as those tributes who didn't even know how to correctly hold a knife. He never trained - he would be at home, or on some excursion somewhere with his father in another district, or something like that. Ana wasn't certain.

But still, he would be of no help whatsoever.

And why couldn't Topaz have a friend anyways? She was a person, with her own wants and needs, dreams and in her case especially nightmares. Did York think that Topaz was some divine thing who didn't need social contact to survive? Perhaps; he did have a slow mind after all, but still, Topaz was not some goddess. She was a human being. And even though she was probably destined to die in a few days, surely it would be good to at least be nice to the victor. For starters, it was simply a moral thing to do, but in addition Topaz was also in charge of sponsorship, something that York seemed to forget about at this point.

Which really did point out his stupidity even more, because that was really the only chance he would have at survival - sponsors. At least Ana had some sort of skill; tridents and swords were her specialty while York's specialty was choosing the right outfits to wear that day, which really wouldn't come in handy in the arena, especially since they wore uniforms.

Slowly, her focus returned to her mentor, who seemed rather out-of it, not really being able to discern what she had said. Or perhaps she was simply confirming it, for she went ahead and muttered something about having to help the two of them. It was a slightly irritating comment - she could look after herself, thank you very much, but she let it slide. Then again, there wasn't really any way to respond to that without having Ana seem overconfident, which was not the case.

Useful information began to flow into her brain, making Ana's annoyed attitude start to dissolve. Yes, it would be a good idea to have slightly smaller alliances - the two, no three large alliances last year had broke apart rather easily, which wasn't something she aimed to do. This year, it seemed that the friendships made in the arena wouldn't dissolve as quickly as the ones before. Everyone seemed nicer, and Ana really didn't want to betray any of them, much less kill them.

How would she even be able to murder them? Would she be able to bring herself to end someone else's prospects at life just to satisfy her parent's needs, and her selfish desires? In all honesty, Ana wasn't sure. It was easy decapitating a dummy, but what about an actual human, seeing their vacant eyes and blood spewing this way and that... Ana shivered slightly at the thought. She didn't want to kill, but she'd have to... even if it meant killing the only bit of humanity she had left.

"Whoah, wait a second, Dopey! You had a huge alliance, and you made it out alive! Obviously, you don't like us. That's it, Stasi. She wants us dead. You want to be the only District 1 victor, so you can get all of the attention! Well, listen here. Nobody wants to hurt me! I'm just too likable! I'm making it out of here alive, and you can't stop me!"

Her mouth dropped open as York spit out insults at the victor. He had the nerve to actually say that? Stupid boy, she thought, shaking her head, rubbing her temples. For starters... Did he call her Dopey? She knew that some stupid assholes at school called her Dopey-Ass Moss after she kissed Nash, but did York actually believe that Topaz's name wasn't Topaz? Or was he just being an ignorant little boy like he always was? But that wasn't the worst part. The worst part was him repeating that he was going to win, which meant of course, that she was supposed to die. And Anastasia did not want to die.

"Her name's Topaz, York. Topaz Ross, not what those idiots that you call friends call her. And if you were paying any attention at all, that large alliance broke up."

She walked away, back towards the window, her back turned from the group. Breathe in, breathe out she told herself. But she was already angry at York for multiple reasons, and this was just the last straw. How much more of his bitching and whining would she have to put up with? No more. I'm not putting up with it any longer.

Whirling around, she glared daggers at the male tribute, before continuing. "And I'm not your friend, York. A friend... A friend wouldn't do something as ridiculous as volunteering when their fucking cousin has been reaped, alright? And you know, when you say that you're going to win, you realize that it means that I'm going to have to fricking die, right?"

She opened her mouth to say more, but nothing came out. Wandering over to a chair, she sat down again, putting her hands in front of her face. Why was life so unfair, making her go into the arena with this brat, who didn't care about the welfare of his relatives? She felt... Betrayed. Then again, she was going into the Hunger Games, so betrayal was something that she should simply get used to, for it was bound to happen sooner or later.

ooc: I apologize for this mish-mash of angst. Half of it was written at 1AM, and the rest was written over the course of 5 hours. xP

[Lulu]

As a good mentor was supposed to do, Topaz took a moment to observe her charges, to size them up, to judge how capable they would be in the arena. Both looked pretty sturdily built. She assumed they were both Careers in some sense of the word; the boy in particular, or else why would he have volunteered? It was rare for someone who didn't have previous Games training to volunteer in the higher districts. She herself had done that - sure, it had been to take the place of her sister, who had been woefully unprepared for the arena, but she wouldn't have even dared had she not been working up to that moment for the vast majority of her life.

It was difficult to tell whether they were pleasant, likable people or not. A lot of the Career tributes commonly weren't, but for a lot it didn't matter because they just appeared so lethal that they could snatch the support of sponsors just by standing there looking menacing. These two, however, didn't seem like they'd be able to pull an appearance of ferocity off, so they would have to rely on their own personalities. At least the girl seemed nice enough, though a bit too inquisitive for her own good. Who was she to ask if Topaz was alright? What business was it of hers? But the boy...oh, the boy. He would be a handful, no doubt.

Yes, she'd known about the various nicknames she'd been dubbed with throughout her time in the arena, particularly because of what had gone on with Nash. The fact that their relationship had been televised publicly had been the last thing they cared about at the time, but now - especially considering one of them had survived - it was a rather big deal. She'd had no trouble ignoring the jibes sent her way for the most part; the old Topaz probably would have been significantly angered by them, but this new manifestation of herself really couldn't find it in her to care. Even if it did piss her off some, all it took was calling up a mental image of Nash's face and she was perfectly calm again. Who gave a shit what those imbeciles thought? You didn't live through the Games. You didn't have twenty-three other kids out to get you. You didn't have to kill the person you loved. So do everyone a favor and shut the fuck up. This kid in front of her was no exception to that. And from what she had seen of him so far he definitely qualified as an imbecile.

"Did I ask for your input, blondie?"

The redhead was on her feet in a second, arms crossed as she glared in the direction of the fair-haired boy. "Believe me, if you're waiting for me to actually give a crap about what you have to say, you'll be waiting a pretty long time."[/color] Her superiors probably would chastise her for this treatment of her tributes at some point. As they had pointed out to her, there were a handful of older, more experienced District One victors who could have mentored these two, but they'd so kindly allowed her to do it. Oh, what a fucking honor. It didn't matter to her, though; someone had to give this kid a wake up call, and she wasn't particularly fussed about being the one to do it. Snapping at others was a fairly cherished pastime of Tope's.

The seventeen-year-old turned to address both of them at the same time and continued speaking. "You've pretty much got two options here, and I'm not going to try to sway you either way. Option one: you can listen to what I, a vastly wise and experienced victor, have to say. Because I really would like to see one of you come out alive, as hard as that is to believe."[/color] Had she been this annoying to her mentor as a tribute? she highly doubted that. "Or option two: you can get the hell out. You'll basically be wandering in the dark in the arena and probably end up with a blade in your back, but hey, if that's what you want. I'm not here to judge."[/color] Upon finishing her speech she raised her eyebrows and shrugged, as if waiting for them to choose. Although she was fairly certain what they would decide - unless they were completely idiotic, that was.

She sighed. "Look, I split from that alliance as soon as I realized it was doing next-to-nothing for me. And who did I take with me?"[/color] The one you were lusting after. "Someone I knew would watch my back. Someone, one person, who I could t -"[/color] The victor stopped herself before she could finish her sentence; yes, she trusted Nash immensely. She hadn't exactly at the time, but had soon come to realize just how trustworthy her companion was. This wasn't something she cared to express to these two, though - despite the fact that the entire nation had viewed every moment of it, she still felt very protective of her relationship with Nash. Their bond was private - it wasn't something for anyone else to speculate over. Also, it was an awful idea to be putting the idea of trust into her tributes' heads. Trust was an alien term in the arena; it was so rare to find anyone you could trust in that hell on earth, so it was infinitely advisable to not trust at all. Because only one person could live, no matter how much you wished differently. "Er, I mean, someone who...someone who could help me. And obviously it worked, considering I'm standing here talking to you right now, aren't I?"[/color]

Anastasia reprimanded her cousin for screwing up their mentor's name, which Topaz appreciated even though she was fairly certain that none of her words would make it into York's thick head, and then launched into some spiel about how he was no friend to her, considering her possible death meant nothing to him. The teenager had difficulty finding any sort of familial bond between the two people in front of her. York's chummy comments seemed relatively fake, and either way, Anastasia looked as if she was having none of that shit. They had an interesting dynamic going on - their kinship would no doubt be questioned by Ceasar come their interviews. They seemed to be playing it the wrong way, though. "You guys might want to work on the whole 'family' thing,"[/color] she suggested mildly. "Might get you a few sponsors, if you do it right. Maybe."[/color] She wasn't making any promises; it didn't look as if they were even capable of partaking in a non-hostile conversation with one another. Tope groaned inwardly just thinking about it. These Games were sure to be an interesting time.

.:.:.:.:.:.:..
but i can hear you louder than ever
whisper to me, help me remember
i can't see you but we're still together
i can hear you louder than ever

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