[shot in the dark] thundy, elegant

[Lulu]

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and i am done with my graceless heart
tonight i'm gonna cut it out and then restart
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The seasoned victor had spent the majority of the past year in the Capitol - being at home in One was more painful than ever, now that Saph's familiar presence was no more - but that didn't make moving back into the training center any easier than it had ever been. The only good thing she had to say about it was that it was basically becoming ritual now; thankfully, because it was so routine, it didn't bring back as many painful memories as it used to. Topaz recalled none too fondly the 57th Games, her first time back after emerging victorious, in which she hadn't even been able to sleep at night because of horrifying nightmares of her Games - or even sweet dreams that were more hurtful than anything because they weren't reality. The 58th Games had hardly been any better; but she had been mending, to say the least. Slowly healing. Her heart was slowly patching itself up. But apparently it was making more progress than the universe wanted, because a year later, bam! Sapphire, her little sister, had been sent into the arena and all the pain had come flooding back as if the dam of resilience that had begun to form had suddenly been hit with a torrent of sorrowful water and cracked.

She'd tried to learn how to be happy again - really, she had. Over the past four years she'd tried to bring back bits of the old Topaz, the happy-go-lucky party girl who loved attention and people in general, even though she knew her attempts would be futile. And not only had these endeavors not worked, they'd brought on a severe case of alcoholism and promiscuity that Tope knew she wouldn't ever be able to counteract, even if she wanted to. So the girl - no, the woman, she kept forgetting she was twenty years old now - who was moving into the training center for the fourth time since becoming a champion was pretty much exactly what rumors said she was: an easy shag, a slut, a drunk, a wild animal. But what the cameras and scrutinizing gazes of Panem couldn't see was that she was also tired and broken. And all she wanted was for someone to put her back together, take her into her arms and reassure her that everything was okay, but there wasn't anyone left.

So she just kept trudging on, dealing with life one day at a time, living through year after year the monotonous horror that was the Hunger Games. Most recently, life had dealt her two new tributes to mentor and ship off to their deaths in the arena, and, hoping to actually do something worthwhile for once, a feat she hadn't accomplished in so long, she'd decided to actually be the coach they needed. What was different this time, from all the past years she'd spent dancing and drinking and sleeping off hangovers when she was supposed to be providing advice? Was it that this year was a Quell, and the tributes needed her now more than ever? Was she actually beginning to feel sympathy for those whose lives were put in her hands for once? No, more likely she'd realized that giving up wasn't making her feel any better. So maybe, just maybe, actually trying for a change would.

The redhead made herself presentable the morning of her designated coaching session, which was easier than usual seeing as she'd come in early the night before following an interesting game of beer pong with a couple of the other victors, rather than stay out to all hours of the night partying. Granted, this was mostly because she'd been tired as hell after two train rides that day, the first to One for the reaping and the second back to the Capitol on the tribute train. In addition to this, it was also because she hated tolerating Opening Ceremonies parties for extended periods of time, due to the fact that no one left her the hell alone. So once again, Tope hadn't really been thinking about her tribute charges when she'd made that decision. But it couldn't hurt to pretend she had, right?

The tributes were already present in the sitting room when she walked in, and it pleased her that she could actually remember their names this time. There was Avon, a short-haired, rather small girl who gave off an I'm-a-badass aura that definitely appealed to Topaz. Then there was Reyes, a Career boy who had volunteered in place of his brother, an act with which Tope could most definitely sympathize. "Well. You two actually seem pretty capable, not like the fiasco set from last year." The victor neglected to acknowledge that one of them had been her younger sibling. "But none of that means anything if you don't know what you're doing. Training begins today; got any plans?" It was rather shocking, hearing herself sound poised and together, like she really knew what she was talking about. She couldn't remember the last time she'd ever sounded this collected; it was nice, for a change. To feel like something other than a big mess of angst, even though it would never last.

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i like to keep my issues drawn
it's always darkest before the dawn
tonight i'm gonna bury that horse in the ground
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[Sunrise Rainier D2 // [Thundy]]

Well I didn't tell anyone, but a bird flew by
Saw what I'd done

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As much as I regret saying it, I thrive here. Take away the impending death, the constant terror I face, and the fact that this is the Quell, I'm actually having quite a nice time. I'm not garnering nearly as much attention as the female tribute, Avon, but I don't care much. I guess I know why, too. My stylists have been giving me these looks, ya know, like they know what's coming. I was somewhat confused at first, but then someone reminded me of all that I was probably going to live up to. Which is death, and early. The past six (six!) male tributes from my home have gone out on Day One or Two. What wusses. Didn't they know better? Weren't they Caree --

No, no, no. I refuse to align myself with them, with that idea. The living, breathing, definition of death. I'm not. I might be, but I refuse to believe it. Those boys weren't weak. Were they? The good ones always go out early. Well, some..

Am I a good one? The way people look at me, one would think that I would just jump straight off of my plate and end it a second in. What do they know? Nothing. Not one bit about me. Consistently overlooked. But that's alright, I guess. I can't be anywhere in the middle now. Those in the middle will die. You're either the powerhouse or the ghost. Everyone else, those in the middle -- they'll die. I'll die too, if I'm caught. Sooner or later the hunters and the ghosts face off, and they'll tell me I don't deserve it. I didn't fight. Because I am a ghost, and there's a damn good reason why we run away and hide.

In the end, or in the beginning, or somewhere in the middle, I'll fight. And I goddamn well know how to, if I'm pushed. I --

A noise comes from the middle of the room, and Topaz walks in. I gape, and the pressure of the situation comes back. She's here to help us. Us.. I forget that Avon is here too, but maybe she forgets my existence as well. It's difficult to think of anything but yourself, especially now that the Quell's special twist has been released. I'm supposed to worry about me, not her or anyone else. But why am I so bothered by this?

"Well. You two actually seem pretty capable, not like the fiasco set from last year." Well, at least I have her opinion. "But none of that means anything if you don't know what you're doing. Training begins today; got any plans?" Topaz asks, and I find myself looking at my shoes.

Plans? I'm supposed to have a plan?

Then it occurs to me that I'll actually have to speak to her. Do I even trust her opinion? To be fair, more than half of her tributes have died Days One and Two. But then, she has this way about her -- perhaps the confidence? -- that's difficult not to believe.

She's pretty.

As per usual, the female gender freaks me out. When I speak, I falter. "So, yeah.. I guess.. hmm." I shake my head, and don't move my gaze from my shoes. "What do you suggest we do?" I recover myself and settle on looking at a spot across the room.


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[gamemaker kelsier]

No nonsense voice
Talking
Doing
Deep thought
Hearing
Singing

She had never been on a train before. At first it had been a little bit daunting. The fastest she had ever gone was running pace, and suddenly she was flying along faster than she could take anything in. It gave her headaches, the speed, so she would close her eyes, and lean her forehead against the cool glass of the window, remembering every little detail of the justice building. The way the blood from Riley's torn arms had soaked the sleeves of her favourite dress, as he slipped her his lucky guitar pick. Her token. He would most likely never get it back, yet he was giving it to her. And then he was holding her to him, soaking her with warm crimson, crying, and all she could do was stand there in quiet surprise, nothing leaking out.

It was as if she had forgotten how to have a good cry, she couldn't remember the last time she had, and this didn't turn anything up either. She hadn't really processed it yet, the fact that she was going to die. But everything she thought about or looked at, reminded her of death. It was as if she were writing her own eulogy. One of the hardest goodbyes had been Chyba. Wrapping her arms around him, she had whispered comforting words into his ear, even though she was the one going to be taken away. She made Riley promise that he wouldn't let Chyba see the games. she didn't want him to watch her die. She didn't want any of them to watch her. To become less than the steady whole that she was sure to become with time in the games. Or maybe she'd die in the dreaded thing known as the bloodbath. Maybe she'd step off of her disk and some tribute would stab her through the heart because she was so unprepared.

She hadn't known what to say to her sisters, didn't know what might make it more bearable for them, or how she could protect them against this. So she simply pressed her forehead against their's, and let herself stand there for a moment, hearing their hearts beat. Maybe a bit girly and odd, but it had easily calmed Avon down, reminding her of a time when she shared a room with Riley and Nettie and they filled up the night with their sounds of sleep like unsettled dirt. She watched her home speed away out of the corner of her eye, wishing that she had the chance to say goodbye to Alphonse as well. But either he had not been able to come, just because he couldn't, or she had run out of time. She missed him already, normally she would have run to him first, telling him news. Now she hadn't even the chance to say goodbye.

On the train, she had gotten the chance to talk to the boy reaped with her. He had come into her designated room for goodbyes, and she hadn't minded. Only, she'd been a little bit curious as to why no one came to say goodbye to him. One would think that his little brother that he had rescued would be clamoring to say it. But no dice. She had warily watched him from the corner of her eye, just in case he decided to pick her off early. She was already beginning to feel a bit paranoid. But she had never seen this guy before, never even heard of him. Not that she knew many people in the Districts, she was such a recluse, unless you counted the ones she sometimes punched in the face. Fight Club. she would miss that, not that she wouldn't get enough emotional release in the games. But she would miss the fun of it, and the people. As well as the fact that there wasn't a very big chance of death.

Death. Was it something to fear? She ahd read somewhere that he was most often depicted as a skeleton in a cloak with a scythe. In a novel she had read, he had a horse named Binky, and he liked kittens. Of course, Death was not the same as Death. Death, she knew, could be very painful. Especially in the games. She wondered how she would die. It wasn't a morbid, oh poor me, thought. It was as if a five year old had just raised their hand in class and asked why the sky was blue. Avon knew it was coming one way or another, of course, she had always thought that it would be either in the ring, or when she turned a really old and big number and passed away in her sleep or something. Not torn apart in the games.

Before she really knew it, the train ride was over. District One isn't even that far from the Capitol. The buffeting sounds and smells of the new location had been glimpsed for a short moment before she and Reyes had been rushed off into a building where far too many people looked at her, and not enough knew about personal space. She had been poked and prodded, Her make-up people already gasping about her bone structure, and the fact that she had nice eyebrows, which had made her cheeks flame in embarrassment for her home. They acted as if District One was a place for homeless people or something, and not actually a thriving place. She had been wary of the room she was dropped in, finally, when the sun had gone down. the beds were too soft, and there was a person standing in the corner who wouldn't speak to her in the morning.

The word, 'Avox' had come to mind.

Of course Avon knew what an Avox was, who they were, but she knew that they came from the Districts, like herself. At this moment, she didn't really know if she would prefer being Avoxed, or death. Not long after, she had found herself sitting in the room she was in now, a little apart from Reyes, who she sometimes stole a glance at, but otherwise ignored, when a woman came into the room. The word 'slipped' couldn't be used to describe the lady. More like barged, really. something dinged in her mind, telling her it was the last Victor from District One, Topaz. She had lost her sister, and that's about all Avon really knew about her. She never watched the games, because in her household of no careers, she was the only one, and trying to keep it hidden. Besides, just because she liked punching people, didn't mean she loved the killing of innocents.

She was careful not to say anything too obvious in front of Reyes. there was no allying, and she didn't want him to know anything about her. "I know how to fight, and I know how to run." She settled back in her chair then, succesfully hiding, like she always could, the fear screaming away in the back of her skull. The animal she kept so carefully under lock and key, her actual feelings.

[Lulu]

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i'm taking it slow
feeding my flame
shuffling the cards of your game
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The tributes for the 60th Games - a Quell - were forbidden from forming alliances while in the arena. This was a rather different sort of twist; usually the twist, the thing that set a Quell apart from all the other Games, had something to do with the tributes reaped or, most commonly, the arena itself. Alliances had never been a factor before, but Topaz had to admit, if they were aiming to level the playing field for the lower districts as well - so the Careers couldn't dominate and pick off everyone one by one - then this was the best way to do it. Why, though? Didn't they want victors from higher districts after the unfortunate array of Twelve champions, to prove that the Games were still exactly what they were supposed to be? Why would they jeopardize the chances of that happening? Maybe it was all just another ploy to augment the drama.

As for her? Well, she was just ridiculously glad that she wouldn't have to be going into the arena this time around. It wasn't that she'd felt she'd needed an alliance, per se; she'd split with her team of capable Careers - and Anani - less than three days into her Games. It was her time spent with Nash that had opened her eyes to the other purpose of having an alliance: to avoid being without human contact. Granted, not everyone fell in love with their ally, but the point was the same. If Topaz had gone the entire Games without someone to talk to, to keep her company, her sanity would have surely self-destructed. The redhead pitied the tributes who would be forcibly put through that this year.

As per usual, her tributes looked rather confused when she mentioned the need for a plan for training. Reyes flat out asked what she suggested, while Avon began rattling off her strength; Topaz almost snickered at them, but caught herself just in time. As a mentor, snickering at your tributes was probably not the best way to get them to like you. Or even respect you at all, really, and if there was one thing Tope wanted, it was respect. She received it from so few people lately. "The way you present yourself during training is really important," she explained, remembering how she herself hadn't even followed this advice; her training strategy had been to screw it all and try everything. "Will you be friendly? Talk to other tributes? Keep to yourself? Play to your strengths to intimidate people, or fly unnoticed under the radar?" It was interesting; she hadn't thought herself capable of sounding like a real mentor, and yet here she was, passing along advice like it was nothing. "You guys are from one, so obviously people are intimidated by you already. I don't see the harm in scaring them a bit more, so I suggest going all out." Maybe it wasn't the most strategical plan, but it was effective.

The victor allowed herself to collapse into an armchair by the fire, ignoring resurfacing memories from the year before of watching Sapphire take a cleaver to the eye over and over again on the screen right here and then collapsing to the ground on shards of a broken glass vase. Then the year before, she'd watched her male tribute, twin brother of the boy whom her alliance had killed in the 56th, get his head ripped off by a massive sphinx. Then the previous year, mentoring her first set of tributes, the obnoxious cousins Ana and York, right in this very place. And finally, her own year as a tribute, refusing breakfast from Carmel because she wanted to practice going hungry. Oh, how things had changed. "So, you aren't allowed to form alliances this year," she said quickly, distracting herself from the painful recollections. "Generally the Careers band together, so how do you feel about that?"

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and just in time
in the right place
suddenly i will play my ace
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