Under these Steel Wheels [Python - Train]

[Kire]

◎ M a r c h e l l o ◆ D o n n e r ◎

Does, Says, Thinks

The door to the compartment slid closed behind me with a soft whoosh that sent a spike of chill air down my spine. A chill shook up my spine in an involuntary convulsion and I quickly looked up to spot anyone who may have seen. No one. At least, I think no one saw. There were people in here, not surprising considering that this was essentially the living room - compartment? - of the train. I hated this damn thing. The way it raced down the tracks so fast that everything outside the window was blurred made my stomach churn. The feeling of this unstoppable speed, and my inability to escape, left me a slave to my fate in a much deeper sense than I could have thought. This was almost a torture, a taunting of things outside the window that are so much like what used to be before life - in the formed of this damn train - whipped past and left it behind.

Miss Prissy, or whatever our escort's name was, sat delicately on one of the chairs toward the center of the room. I narrowed my eyes at her and then smoothed my expression as she looked up at me. Over the short time I had been around her I learned that she didn't just make the Reaping go slow on purpose but because everything she did was slow. Oh, she was peppy alright but it was much different from the upbeat personalities I had dealt with before. It was like someone had set all of her settings to half speed and it drove me insane.

I walked over to the couch that was pushed against one wall, as far away from the vivaciously coloured cloth that swathed Miss Prissy's entire chair in a bright magenta as I could get, treating the woman like she was infected. If I didn't, and I got too close, I was sure I would either punch her or catch some dreadful outbreak of stupid-dress-syndrome. I flopped down on the couch, paying no heed to the fabric as I kicked my feet up so I laid fully stretched out. Surely Prissy was disdainfully looking at me down her nose in that way she did when I did something she didn't like. Too fucking bad for her, though, I was my own man and I felt like doing my own thing.

Besides, the Capitol is so damn rich what did it matter if I ruined a couch or two.

At that point my eye caught on the plate of burgers and my stomach, despite its revolt at the motion, grumbled. I popped off that couch like a cork and in a number of steps I was at the plate, grabbing eagerly at the burger I deemed to be the largest. With a prize in each hand I returned to the couch, grinning at the horrified look on Prissy's painted face. Her lips were a darker shade of magenta than her dress but right now the area around the lipstick was so pale she looked gothic. I stretched myself out on the couch one more and bit into the burger in my right hand. As it started to fall apart I realized I would have to hold it in two hands and so I set the second burger in my lap.

If I wasn't more focused on my burger than anything else in the room I might have looked to see what Prissy's reaction was. As it stood, though, I didn't much care. The next bite of my burger was larger, and this time I didn't nearly spill the contents all over my pants. I thought I heard the compartment door open but I didn't look up, instead I chewed my bite of burger and took another. There was a television nestled against the adjacent wall and I was tempted to turn it on to laugh at the propaganda and learn more about the twenty two people not from my district that I would have to live with and die with for the next few weeks.

As for the other person to come from my district... well I didn't really know her. We hadn't spoken and I hadn't minded at first but now I was just curious - that damn curiosity of mine, it would probably cause me some real pain. I would have to talk to her, and besides I couldn't go off into the arena alone. Twenty-two enemies and a ally was a lot better than twenty-three enemies. I stuffed the last of my first burger, chewing and wiping my mouth on the back of my hand. As I swallowed I picked up the second burger and allowed myself a moment to digest a bit before starting on the second burger.

For once I might finally be able to eat enough.

But what about the others? Without me, or Jan, or Ary there to make money and take care of them how would they do? Probably not that well. Dying wouldn't help them out, but winning might. If I were to win then I would be given a house in the Victor's Village, and a whole shit load of money. We could all live under the same roof like we used to and not have to worry about food again.

Did I have a chance though? No. Not without allies at least.

I really need to talk to that girl.

[Python]

Ellexias Verisity

She had paced around the Justice Building for minutes on end, nerves vibrating at a hypervigilant frequency. Visitors were allowed entry to the premises, but her father could not consciously wheel himself to her. He would be left sitting there in the Square until someone – preferably Dr. Marx – noticed his helplessness and rolled him to safety. Everyone was required to attend the reaping, so Dr. Marx had to be there, right? And he wasn’t the type of man to abandon a patient, even if they weren’t his own. He knew family, work, and school was her world. He would come to her rescue. Perhaps not with a cure for death, but with some semblance of relief.

When they did show up, Ellexias visibly relaxed, her rigid spine falling somewhat slack and hunched. It felt like the weight of the world was sitting on her shoulders. Every ounce of her strength was spent focusing on her father’s conditions instead of her own. She would have weeks to address her own future. For now, he was top priority. ”Are you taking him to the center?” She asked rapidly, her hand cupping his cold knuckles over the arm of the wheelchair. His tremors were acting up again, a sign of distress. Did he know what was in store for her?

Did she want him to know?

”I was going to ask you about that,” Dr. Marx said, ”Would you prefer he stay in his house? “

”Yes.”

She had never wanted to move him anywhere else. Home was home, where mother once thrived and where their family was once together in harmony. She didn’t want to deprive him of nostalgia, whether he was capable of remembering the good times or not. It was in-humane, and she had enough of that poison in her conscience. ”I’ll send a day nurse to take care of him then,” Dr. Marx said promptly, always professional and genuine. If only people knew what he was capable of. The horrors committed behind closed doors for the sake of science. His patients wouldn’t think of him so warmly then.

”What about the night shift?” she asked. Her father could become lonely if the knowledge of her absence was capable of plaguing him. Also, what if he suffered a medical emergency in the dead of night? He was an aging man with many afflictions. Alone and hopeless was not how anybody deserved to die, not if there was anything she could do about it.

”I’ll schedule a nurse for the evening,” he reassured her.

With that, she could finally breathe, but the Peacekeepers intercepted them. She kissed her father goodbye and boarded the train.

Now she had her own life to worry about.

Her quarters aboard the steel vehicle were cozy, and unlike any space she had ever occupied. Pillows were fluffed to heavenly perfection, and the mattress itself felt like a cloud. It was ironic, the amount of comfort and luxury that accompanied her nightmare. There were dishes upon dishes of different snacks and treats strewn across a table, but she had only glanced at them with a vacant mask of disinterest before disappearing to her assigned bedroom. Her appetite was parched from the stress. How could she eat when the possibility of a premature death was dangling above her eyes like a stray hair?

She had not yet spoken to their sluggish escort or her district partner. This antisocial behavior would only last as long as she needed to process her change in fate, because she knew she couldn't sit in silence forever. That would ensure her downfall. She knew how these Games worked, somewhat. Friends were an advantage.

Her mind was running in circles. She thought of her father and his feelings, she thought of her deserving misfortune and how much she hated it, yet had no right to. She thought of what lay in store for her; Capitol propaganda, the content she never much paid attention to, and then the blood and gore. Sights she had been conditioned to face with a steely façade, but when laced with such malice she didn’t know how she would fare. Even in her experiments, her intent was not to harm or kill, but to cure. Murder was murder, of course, but this would be much harsher. It was murder for the sake of murder. “Survival” they called it. But what did the viewers want? Murder.

She walked out of her quarters and slid open the compartment door. Her escort and district partner were lounging by the tables of food. Marchello was devouring a cheeseburger. She would rather find vegetables on these platters, but settled instead for a vine of grapes. ”Do you mind if I turn this on?” she asked, gesturing to the television. The silence was overbearing, and she needed background noise. Not to mention it would be educational to watch the other Reapings.

[Kire]

◎ M a r c h e l l o ◆ D o n n e r ◎

Does, Says, Thinks

A hand waved at the television, a fast hand that clearly wasn't adorned with the over-dramatic colours and rings of our escort's hands, and I looked up as the shadow of my district partner fell across my lap. "Do you mind if I turn this on?" I chewed and swallowed my current bite of burger, noticing with mild interest that she was holding grapes in her other hand. I couldn't blame her for going for something healthier, but I had just craved the burgers as soon as I saw them. I nodded, then gestured at the tv with my head. "I was thinking about turning it on myself." I raised my burger as an explanation, a wry grin lifting one half of my mouth. "I just hadn't gotten to it yet."

Well, now we had talked, even if it was brief. I couldn't just suffice with that though, not if I was supposed to get her to trust me, and learn if I could trust her. I bit into what was left of my burger and chewed as I tried to think. How the hell did you get someone you didn't know to trust you? I had trusted Jan and Ary almost immediately, but why? It was something about then that I couldn't place. I didn't know if I had it, but I don't think I do. If I had then surely the others would have trusted me more. Somehow I would have to try and emulate what I sensed from Jan and Ary so that she might eventually trust me. We had time together - this train ride, and the days in the training center, and then however long we would last in the arena - so I should have enough opportunity, but who knew. No one trusted me with anything before so why would this girl I had never met trust me to help her live?

"You curious about the others too?" I nod towards the television again, implying the other Reapings we would be watching. Raising the last bite of my burger to my lips, I popped it into my mouth and chewed. "It would be nice to know who we're going to be dealing with." Maybe the easiest way to get her on my side was to treat her like she already was. It was certainly worth a try.

[Python]

Ellexias Verisity

She nodded and turned on the television. District Three’s Reaping illuminated the screen, a backdrop of greys and whites with a painted mass of colorful bodies in front of the stage. She absent-mindedly popped a grape into her mouth and stared at the movements onscreen, but didn’t register the names or the faces. She didn’t want to memorize twenty-three people if the majority of them would end up dead. Losing patients was always devastating because she knew their names and faces, sometimes their personalities. It would be easier not to think of competitors as anything but strangers. Marchello could be the exception; he was home, perhaps not yet a friend or a foe, but she knew within the next few weeks he would become more than a stranger. If they clashed well, they could become allies.

A stew of morbid thoughts settled in her brain. She sat down on the couch beside him and wondered which of them would die first. Six was a famously unsuccessful District, producing only a few worthy competitors in the last seven years. Galaxy had been the latest subject of admiration. So close yet so far, and it felt like their loss had been destiny. All of the excitement had been for naught. Before that, it had been the Keenis raising the interest of proud residents. All of them were brutally murdered, of course, but that didn’t stop her from remembering the hope. She had been eleven years old when the Keeni twins first impressed the District. Three years ago, Willis followed suit.

She couldn’t imagine outperforming them.

The television switched to District Four’s Reaping. She chewed on a grape and listened to Marchello, nodding slightly. ”Yeah,” she said, hardly registering the names announced on the stage. A girl was crying out “No!” No!” and creating a scene. Not a rare occurrence, but still unpleasant to watch. ”Of course, we’ll also get to know them in the Capitol.” It was more of a reminder to herself than anything. Facing these people and their lives was inevitable. Ignoring them as human beings would be impossible. ”I don’t really look forward to it.”

[Kire]

◎ M a r c h e l l o ◆ D o n n e r ◎

Does, Says, Thinks

Watching the other Reapings wasn't as satisfying as I thought it was. Seeing the flash of terror in their eyes for the second they hadn't managed to hold their expression straight didn't make me feel better. I felt horrible at the thought that this person was going to die if I lived, or that they may be the one to kill me.

Maybe this girl wouldn't kill me.

She was now sitting beside me, absently eating grapes and watching the screen with a detached attentiveness that I almost envied. It turned out that I didn't quite want to know these people. "Yeah, of course, we’ll also get to know them in the Capitol." It was true, of course. We were all going to run into each other at some point, at meals or during the training. There would even be hours of waiting around before our private sessions that we would probably be all stuffed in the same damn box for. You just couldn't get away from people. "I don’t really look forward to it."

I nodded, my eyes on the screen as it went from the District four reaping - concluding with a different girl volunteering for the one whose name was called - to the scene from District five. On the stage, beside the previous victor Lethe, sat Patricia - victor of the last year's Games. It was hard to tell what she was thinking but I vaguely remembered something about her having a younger sister. When the female name was called I imagined I could see her relax, but it was hard to tell. Both the girl and the boy took their places on the stage without much incident and I turned my head away to look at my companion.

"It feels wrong, almost, watching them going through the same thing we did." As if to mirror my statement, our own reaping began to play. I paused, listening to Miss Prissy's voice once again taking its time to wind through everything she wanted to say. "Ladies first!" I heard Prissy herself gasp from where she sat and did my best not to glare at her. It was probably about something stupid, like how her hair looked or something completely arbitrary. "Ellexias Verisity!" Ellexias was it? I took a sidelong glance at her. I couldn't bring myself to watch as my own name was called and I walked onto the stage, but hearing my name called again made me flinch and shiver. There was no reason for it, really, it had already happened and I knew what happened after it, yet here I was, feeling like it had happened all over again.

This time I didn't have my stone mask to wear, and so it had caught me off guard. Had Ellexias noticed? I turn to look straight at her now. "It feels like I'm watching a ghost." I hunch my shoulders some, trying not to show that I still felt off from rewatching that moment of my life. "Like we're all ghosts." My hands clenched into fists and I crossed my arms to try and hide it. I wasn't going to lie, even in this perfectly controlled temperature train I was chilled.

[Python]

Ellexias Verisity

It feels wrong, he said. Everything felt wrong; her death sentence, Marchello’s death sentence, leaving her father behind, sitting inside of a compact train near an escort who probably didn’t comprehend the permanence of death. There was also the imminent visit to The Capitol – a stressor in itself, because despite watching clips on television she didn’t truly know what to expect in such a vast, foreign place. It was so highly praised, but what did it have to offer except death and a wrongful ticket to unwanted fame? Even sitting here plucking grapes from a vine felt wrong. She should’ve been home by now, slipping into her uniform for a long day’s work. Watching these tributes made her feel numb. It felt like nothing in comparison to the heart of the storm.

Their own Reaping was broadcast. She could see her own dazed expression, and wondered if the capitol would notice the flicker of fear in her eyes as she rigidly took her position on stage. Would they perceive her silence and obedience as strength, or would she become background noise because of how simplistic her actions were? She couldn’t begin to strategize about how she would present herself to an audience. What would they want from her?

One thing was for certain; she didn’t believe in ghosts. Death was death, and there was nothing afterward. At least that was how she perceived it, grim as it was. Yet she understood him anyway. It felt like she was watching the dead, and she was among them. He was among them. ”Most of us will be ghosts,” she murmured. She didn’t mean it literally, but it was only a matter of time before everyone on the television screen ended up dead. They could easily join them, both of them. District Six was notorious for the champions that weren’t quite good enough. What she felt inside of this train – what she felt in this boy – didn’t feel like anything special. It didn’t feel like a room graced by champions.

They were practically normal, and the normal ones died off first.

[Kire]

◎ M a r c h e l l o ◆ D o n n e r ◎

Does, Says, Thinks

She was silent for a moment and I didn't say anything more because the feeling in the room seemed to demand quiet. Then she spoke and the silence was broken, though the heavy feeling remained. "Most of us will be ghosts." If I hadn't been sitting right beside her I would have never heard her response. It seemed that she had felt the weight too and had kept her voice low due to it. I shifted, my eyes drifting to the remaining grapes she held in her hand. Even after two burgers I was still hungry and so I delicately reached over and plucked a couple grapes from the stem.

"You don't mind if I have some, do you Lexi?" The nickname slipped from my lips without thought and I wondered how I could have so easily made that step towards a close connection with no intention of doing so. I guess that was another thing she wouldn't have to mind. We were in this together, so why not be friendly with each other? After all, we were the last reminder of home so why shouldn't we stick together? I popped one grape into my mouth and chewed, smiling at her in an attempt to push back the cold, heavy weight of the air. We had to enjoy these last moments of life. I grabbed for the remote, having to stretch over Lexi to reach it, and flicked off the television. "I'd rather save meeting them for later," my words were a grumble under my breath as though I'd been caught doing something embarrassing and needed to explain myself.

In truth, I just wanted to get away from the overhanging sense of doom that accompanied each and every mention of the Games ahead. Let it come when it did, but I wanted to ease myself into the fact that these were most likely my last days alive. I looked into Ellexias' face and wondered if she felt the same. Probably, District six wasn't known for its victors. Like as not, we would both be dead two weeks from now.