When the End Began (Thundy)

[pthalorarity]

The first morning of training… Julian blinked his eyes, surely he was dreaming. So often in both his dreams and nightmares he found himself in this very room. It was the room that he was born to enter. He gazed around, doe eyed as he took everything in. It had improved a lot since his parents’ days in there, at least based on their stories. There seemed to be so much more to choose from, so much knowledge to take with you into the arena. A small grin twisted the sides of Julian’s pouty lips upward as his mind wandered to the arena. Just what type of place was in store for the lucky tributes of the quell. Just as long as it wasn’t a frozen arena… a brief flashback of Midas laying lifeless in the red snow pierced his memory. He winced and clenched his teeth. Not now, he thought to himself. The time for mourning Midas was over, but the time for revenge—that was just beginning.

The twist for the Quell had of course thrown a slight wrench in Julian’s plans. As most from his District, he would have been all for forming a career pack, but now any pretense of alliances could be thrown out the window without regret. Now that he had no need to at least pretend to be nice, he had barely spoken to anyone. Occasionally he would exchange a brief word or two with his District partner or the girl from District 1, Avon Lightwood. Any of the lower Districts, however, he deemed beneath him. If any tried to casually converse, for the most part he would simply sneer. If they were lucky, they might get a one-word answer.

There was a time that Julian would have been kinder to his fellow tributes, perhaps even pitied some. If he was honest with himself, there was probably some pity deep in the depths of the hole of a heart he kept permanently sealed. He wasn’t about to open that wound up to see though. No. He was the perfect career tribute now. The loss of Midas left him cold, heartless and brutal. It was the only way he could survive, or his emotions would rip him apart from with in. The Bryzes were never good with feelings, and Midas had been Julian’s remedy to that fault. When the only way he had known to love was ripped from his life, Julian could only find solace in an emotional state of numbness.

He found his way over to the blades station, watching one of the smaller tributes fiddle with some knives out of the corner of his eyes. They were actually about the same size, Julian had to admit, but the tribute clearly lacked his toned physicality and agile abilities that only came with a lifetime of training to kill. The boy was attempting to throw knives but was barely making the targets, if at all. Silently, Julian grabbed one of the throwing knives from the station. Taking aim not to hit the boy, he thrust his arm outward. The blade went whizzing past the tribute’s right ear before it found its mark on the bull’s eye of the head of the target. The tribute turned and looked at Julian in horror. A pearly white smile spread across Julian’s pretty face. He even looked almost kind, in a rather sadistic way. The boy quickly scurried off to another station and the blonde boy from District 2 continued to smile to himself. Bloodbath…, Julian mentally noted to himself. He had been calculating all morning just how long each tribute might last based on the skills they were exhibiting. Of course, he wouldn’t make any final judgments until training scores and interviews, but for now, the odds seemed to be in his favor.

He brought is fingers softly to his lips as he turned and looked over the blades station to get a better idea of what his cornucopia options might be. Before he could make a selection of which to play with however, he noticed a large figure staring at him from the corner of his eye. He turned to find the boy from District 1 who must have just watched his little interaction. He was quite tall and muscled as most career boys, and like most District 1 tributes, he was admittedly attractive. Of course, the latter didn’t phase Julian much. His mother Pashmina was of District 1 and he had certainly inherited her appearance. Julian placed his hands on his hips when Reyes continued to stare. “Can I help you?” he said coldly.

[Sunrise Rainier D2 // [Thundy]]

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

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The trainers have stopped bothering me. Maybe they assume I know everything that they could possibly teach me, or they got tired of pressuring me to do things, or they simply don't care.

Personally, I think they believe all the rumors about my premature death. The District One male curse and all that. I could just jump off my plate and satisfy them all. At least the people betting on it would have a nice time. Who the hell cares if I die Day One or Day 7? Nobody has a lick of faith in me, so it doesn't matter much. It's disheartening, seeing everyone around me, all these tributes who only want me to die. Of course, I can't blame them. Every fresh batch of new ones coming in on the train each year probably face the same issue. I've never craved decent conversations as much as I have in the past few days. Back home it was easy, being by myself all the time. If I ever felt lonely, I was sure I could find someone to talk to.

The silence is the only thing killing me. Well, one of the only things, I suppose. Training isn't as silent because of the staff working day in and out preparing us, but lunch is pure hell. You can even hear them chewing.

It shakes me, this silence. I've never seen myself as social, not until now. I've talked to lots of the tributes, if only in passing. They give me terrible looks for daring to approach them.

Like right now, with the District Two Male. He's looking more vicious than the others have, as if the act of just staring at him is worth a knife through my gut. He could do it, too. Not yet, obviously, but he could kill me.

Then again, I could have died a thousand times over even before I became a tribute. Every child in my house could have killed me. Would fate taunt me so much as to let this be the way I go out? It would be terribly ironic. Fight for your life for all these years, boy, but it won't kill you and you won't ever turn eighteen..

Eighteen. I wish I were eighteen, or even nineteen. I never will be.

Boo hoo, poor me. I hate thinking these things, especially with the other tributes around. Especially the other Careers. They're stronger than I am, and I envy their ice cold expressions. It's almost as if they can't be feeling or thinking anything at all.. if only they weren't people. This boy in front of me -- the District Two male.. Julian? Everything about him basically screams I WANT TO KILL YOU, but he probably has a heart. They all have hearts, and I do too. I wish none of us did.

He says something to me, something cold, but I don't catch what he says. He looks defensive, angry. What have I done? I've been observing tributes all week, and none of them have said a word about it or looked this angry.

My eyes open wide, and I hold my hands up in defense. What am I supposed to say? I wish I knew what he said to me. "Uh.. Hi. You're.. uhh.. good with a knife?"

And that knife will inevitably end up in my gut if I don't start listening.


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[pthalorarity]

Julian’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. What did the boy just ask him? If he was good with a knife? His eyes shifted to his sides, searching for perhaps hidden cameras. What was Reyes playing at? Quickly gathering his composure however, Julian placed his hands on his hips and replaced his confused expression with one of disdain as he looked up at the curly haired boy.

“Of course I am,” Julian said as he glided smoothly over to a rack of spears, carefully selecting one. A smooth grin curled on his lips as he threw the spear directly into the same bull’s eye as the knife. The metal spear made a whistling noise as it hurled through the air. It shot right past one of the female tributes. She yelped as she felt the wind created by the speed of the spear and looked back to Julian with a similar expression to the other young boy. Julian rolled his eyes at the girl as the spear made it’s mark and turned back to face Reyes.

“But knives aren’t my only forte,” he said in a bored voice. “So what can you do, District 1? Please don’t tell me you’re one of those ‘non-career’ tributes who decided to enter the Games anyway…” Julian’s nostril curled with disgust as he finished his sentence. There was almost nothing he hated more than tributes who besmirched the upper level districts by entering when there are plenty of careers like himself who were itching to take their place. Then again, he could think of something he hated more... losing... and he certainly didn't plan to let this chump best him. He wondered if he thought Reyes might be weighing in on himself at the moment. Thinking how best to slay Julian in the arena. Perhaps he thought his size would help him over power this petite career in the end? Well, size was certainly not everything though, and Julian couldn't wait to put that to the test. Having to wait the next few days to do so was almost unbearable.