Sealed Fates [Jordan and Zeki]

[Will]

.: ZEKI WEBB :.
{district five : 69th tribute}

The doors to the elevator glide open.

So it's starting. This is really happening. There's no turning back now. There definitely is no turning back now. Like I keep telling myself, there never is. There never was. It's just nice to think that you can if you need to. What awaits me down there? I know it has something to do with getting me ready to enter the Hunger Games. Getting me ready to kill other kids and stay alive for as long as I can. Unfortunately, that can't happen for all of us. For some of us, for all of us except for one, this is our last week without having to worry about dying. Without having to fight for our lives and think constantly about what might happen next. Of course we are all still worrying. We all still are thinking about what's coming next. But none of it actually matters this week. It matters next week, when it's kill or be killed.

I step inside of the elevator and the doors close behind me.

That's it. I've sealed my fate. The Reaping sealed my fate, to be completely honest. The second the breath of words that was my name escaped from the escort's lips, my fate was sealed. I just don't know what it is yet. That's the part that kills me. Not knowing. I know everything. Or so I'm told. I think people think I know everything just because I have an eidetic memory. Well, that may be a good reason to tell me that, but a good memory is much different than vast knowledge. And vast knowledge is much different than wisdom. Will have to knowledge and the wisdom to survive the next few weeks?

The elevator slides down the elevator shaft to the basement, where the real training center is.

That's kind of scary. I'm descending to the training station. And although there will be many ascents, the only one that will matter from now on is the ascent into the arena. On my pedestal. This is all so scary. I don't want to think about this. This whole time so far I've been worrying about the Hunger Games, when I have a whole week of luxury ahead of me. Is it possible to focus on that? Is it possible to focus on anything other than your imminent death, and the only way to escape it is if you can outlast everyone else who has this same sentence?

The elevator stops descending.

I'm going to force myself to enjoy this. I've been enjoying myself at the Capitol thus far, and I'll continue to enjoy myself even more. I'll just think of this as help. The help I need to become a rich and famous celebrity. And they're pampering me before the arduous task that awaits me. That's a nice way of putting it. Too bad it's much more serious than that. Kind of.

The doors slide open and I step out of the elevator. After visiting the fire station, I go over and see about the first aid station. That'll be useful. That'll be useful anyway. Even after the Hunger Games are over and if I become a Victor, this will be useful knowledge. I start by trying to learn how to apply gauze to a wound. The person who's there told me I had to make it tight, but not too tight. And there had to be enough space for air to flow in and out, but not enough space for too much air to flow in and out. This perplexed me to the core. I'm trying my hardest to properly apply gauze to a manakin.

First it's too loose, then it's too tight. Then it's perfect! Then it's too loose. Then it's too loose again. Too tight. I can't ever seem to get this right again!

I'm interrupted by someone in my fervent attempts to properly treat a doll.

{table by zoë}

kousei ♚

[kousei ♚]

Jordan Scoff-Reye

This will never end
'Cause I want more
More, give me more
Give me more

There's more training, I'm trying to soak up everything I learn, kinda like a sponge. I know I heard that somewhere, that kids are like sponges cos they soak up their surroundings, it's funny cos I never noticed it but that's what some people have told me back at home. The one time I need it to work is the one time it's not freaking working! I don't know if it's a real thing or if it's just a stupid excuse adults use to keep from swearing when little kids are around.

I've been hacking at this dummy for the past twenty minutes and I don't think I've learned cow shit about killing people.

I've been trying to learn as much as I possibly can, especially weapons. If there's one thing I've learned from fifteen years of watching the games it's that even the weakest kids are fucking scary when they have a ten inch sword in their hand. Mantel killed two people with that thing. Not just two regular people, two careers who were bigger and stronger than him. But he caught em off guard and cut through them like they were nothing but ribbons. That's what I gotta be like, cutting everyone bigger than me to little pieces.

I sigh as I place the long sword back on its rack and turn away. I can come back to it later, it's not like it's going nowhere after all.

I'm like a hawk, carefully observing all the things going on around me. People training for survival, that's all I'm seeing. Fighting, wounding, practising whatever skills or trying to learn. From the looks of it everyone seems to be learning better than me - but I really hope that's just in my head because if it's not I'm pretty sure I'm screwed. I begin walking, wading through stations like a lost puppy trying to find its owner. It's a tough pick because they all look so useful but there's no way I could learn all of them even if hell froze over.

I don't really end up wading for long until I find something completely and utterly funny. I see some guy (with a number five sewn on his top) bent over a bloody dummy. Is he trying to heal that? I spent hours and hours at the first aid station and I can tell for a fact that the way he's doing is not the least bit right. I wander behind the kid and let out a chuckle. "I sure am happier than a butcher in a cattle ranch that I ain't that dummy," I begin, still grinning at the mess, "with you healing me I'd be dead pretty dang quick." I nod pointedly towards the failed tourniquet.

"So either you've never done with before or you're just pretty dang stupid."

Song: If I had a heart - Fever Ray

WC: 465

Narrative
"Speech"
Thoughts

[Will]

.: ZEKI WEBB :.
{district five : 69th tribute}

The comments sting. Especially the one about me being stupid. I'm not stupid. I am anything but stupid. Stupid is the one thing in the entire universe I know I'm not and so does everyone else. Apparently not this kid. Although he spoke nothing but useless criticism, he obviously knows what to do, and I don't. And since I'm not stupid, it should be obvious that this is my first time healing anyone. Who needs to heal people? Doctors. That's it. Because if people get hurt then they go to doctors.

But I need this. This is a pretty crucial part of survival in the arena. If I can't fix myself, or my allies, I'm going to die. There's not doubt about that.

Anyway, if this kid knows what he's doing, I might as well ask him. There's no sense in making enemies in a place where everyone wants to kill you. Being at the top of someone's hit list isn't exactly something I want. Especially not here.

"You know," I say, turning around to face him. He's relatively tall and lanky. He does have some muscle though. He has dark brown hair and pale white skin. And judging from his comments and his looks I'm sure life hasn't been a cakewalk for him. "I've actually never done this before. Do you have any suggestions?"

I hope that works. I don't know if it will. I've never been too skilled on the whole friend-making front. But that didn't seem like a provocative comment. Although, I'm not sure how he'll react. Everyone's different. And if that doesn't show anywhere else, it certainly shows here.

{table by zoë}