the great escape {speakers}

[noodles]

a n t o n    l a d e t t o

Maybe I should have thought my scheme through further. I have searched basically every square inch of the building, finding nothing more than guards around every corner. The building where we are all being kept is fairly large, so we're made to feel as though we aren't caged in. Perhaps my method of finding an escape in a highly guarded, inescapable structure of seventy-five years was not the brightest idea. I was always slightly impulsive.

My search has led me to the roof, and for a brief moment, I considered the option of scaling down the building. That thought quickly launched itself from my mind as I do not have the strength or backbone needed to do it. This area of the training center is almost peaceful. There's no sound of weapons clanging, tributes screeching, and the atmosphere is much more relaxed. The faint noises of the city below are still audible, albeit much quieter than expected.

Although I had heard that the Capitol had some sort of barrier preventing the tributes from jumping off the building, I still had a tiny hope that maybe there was a chink in their armor. The hope was that there would be some sort of defect in the barrier where I could squeeze through, but as I walked straight to the ledge of the roof, sticking my hand out in front of me, there was some sort of barrier that repels me back, preventing anyone from moving beyond the perimeter that has been set.

As I glance around, I notice numerous skyscrapers jutting into the sky near the training center that I am on. One reason I left the training area was to find a way to leave, but another reason I left was because a person can only tolerate being in the same vicinity as a bunch of career tributes for so long before needing some alone time. I wasn't exactly being sneaky about trying to find a way out via the roof, so I know for a fact that at least a couple people must have noticed what I was attempting to do. Cameras are an item that exists. Although the original escape idea failed, I still have a chance to leave if I secure my victory in the games.

[lance]

l u c a s   o ' h a r a

He'd gotten used to finding another body already inhabiting the rooftop by the time he'd bothered to make the nightly journey himself.

And really, he couldn't really blame the others for wanting to indulge in some peace and quiet themselves. There was a noticeable air of calm and tranquility surrounding the area, a definite change in the air from the noisy training room and bustling cafeteria.

Not that each area had their own perks, from eye candy to rich, decadent foods, but for someone like him, locations like this were treasured in their rarity.

And besides, peace and quiet did not mean that he needed to abstain from any human contact as well. Between the smoke he'd shared with the Stroms boy to the passionate encounter with the Hope girl, he'd found that the rooftop was as great a place for interaction as any.

The figure that had preceded him today was one he recognized as one of the District Six males, the youthful, inquisitive one. Like the Stroms boy had two nights ago, he didn't seem to register his presence at first, for his attention seemed to be focused on the scenery surrounding the training center.

He couldn't really blame him. After all, the so-called skyscrapers had been completely non-existent back home, and he could only assume that the same was true for the other middle districts, like Six.

Unlike the previous two nights, he'd brought his sketchbook, which at the moment was neatly tucked under one arm. His original plan had been to transfer the very landscape that Six had been so grossly enamored with onto his makeshift parchment, but in a shift that had become increasingly commonplace over the last few days, he changed his mind.

A small grin grew across his face as he found a spot near the elevator to sit, back resting against the protruding wall that emerged from the center of the roof. Then, as per usual, he flipped the sketchbook open to the first empty page, took his pencil in hand, and began to draw.

[Baby Wessex d9b [earthling]]

l o r e n z o   r u i n e d

He was beginning to find a routine in the Training Center, and he hated himself just a little bit more for it. Every morning get up, maybe shower but mostly not, head down the elevator, eat until he felt nauseated, get frisked, train, lunch, more frisking, more training, frisking, eating. It really wasn't so bad, which sucked. He was supposed to be suffering, to be remembering and resisting. But somewhere in the last week he'd become complacent.

He needed to put a plug in that.

The elevator was a constant source of activity, especially with the increased tribute count. He had to wait two rounds before he could squeeze in. Just as the doors began to close, one of his district partners approached. Lorenzo stuck his hand between the metal doors, felt the steel squeeze his scabbed over knuckles, and then backed another tribute against the wall to allow Wylla in.

A few got off in the Career districts, but most were heading higher. He glanced behind himself, folded his hands over his pelvis, and leaned over the young girl's shoulder to whisper: "You wanna show me where the other rejects hang out? Oh don't look so offended - I just called myself trash too."

Up they want, past Five, past the bloated middle districts, all the way to the roof. By the time they exited, he sucked in a big lungful of fresh air. "Might be worth sleeping up here, you know? Lead the way."

[D6f Carmen Cantelou [aza]]

WYLLA LYSANDER




 

Mum would say that when you give yourself away it always hurts too much. She said that I'd pray to get myself back and my fate would lie in the hands of Ripred. She doesn't understand; I don't need anybody to hold me whilst I cry, I don't need her voice to make skin irk.

I don't need her love. She has loved me to the limit—and she was the one who said that love is what breaks a person. I'm not going to break, that's why I promised myself that I'd knit a sweater of self-belief and courage because it would ensure I'd gained the one trait I've been missing this whole time: bravery.

Bravery is seeing the world, growing three inches, and standing up for myself.

"You wanna show me where the other rejects hang out? Oh don't look so offended, I just called myself trash too."

I frown at the boy from Five.

"Mouth breather," I whisper. One look at him and I can tell he is toxic; Mum's alarm bells are ringing and I know that I walk on a fine line when it comes to the dangerous—but this is the Hunger Games. I remind myself that a lone pawn could never win a large game without the aid of its superiors. He's a knight, from what I can tell.

He wears tarnished armour, but I figure that is okay. We are all a little bit fragile.

The two of us soar past the other floors, the elevator taking the reigns and steering us to the open space. It's fast, faster than any of the technology I've ever seen Three produce. Everything I've held has been wet and broken, perhaps I shouldn't be surprised.

Doors peel back and we are met with a gust of wind and a view of light in the dark. The buildings are tall for a girl who is only four feet and eight inches and a quarter, the city is big enough for every world I've ever known.

"Might be worth sleeping up here, you know? Lead the way." He says, my eyes dropping from the view to the figures who stare at the thick air that divides them.

"Found the rejects." I tell him, stepping out of the elevator onto the rooftop. Two boys sit close to the elevator, caught in the city lights which burn through the chilled gale. One of them is armed with a pencil whilst the other is defenceless; both are examples of how we are all a little bit fragile.

Mum is telling me all three of them are bad news. But it is late, and I want a bedtime story.

"Hi, rejects." I say to the two boys sat together. Why hear a story that has been told a thousand times when you can write your own?