75th Annual Hunger Games || Closed

[Hannah Lou]

As Elizabeth stood with the few other female victors, her heart raced. She had no desire to go back, but then again, did anyone? After surviving through one Hunger Games, you'd have to be insane to wish to be thrown back into the gauntlet of the Arena.


Her name was called. It rang clearly throughout the square. "Elizabeth Adler." A shockwave of panic surged through her body. She walked to the stage calmly. As she faced the people of her district, she spoke, not thinking of the consequences of her actions. What were they going to do, kill her?


"This was not the deal I was made as a victor," she said simply, projecting her voice to the crowd. This was, of course, in reference to the promise that no victor would be put back in the Games once they had won. Her words brought an uproar from the crowd, a gun was placed against her head. The Peacekeepers escorted her inside the Justice Building without the chance to say her final goodbyes to her parents or her grandmother. Elizabeth faced the fact that she would never see them again.

 

[Shadow]

Finnick stood calmly among the small crowd that made up his District's victors. There were only two female victors; Mags and a girl that was practically insane. As much as he hated himself for thinking it, he hoped the insane girl's name would be called. He was thoroughly prepared to go back into the Games, if that's what was required, but Mags......if her name was picked she would probably die, so he would have to protect her. That probably wouldn't sit well with the Capital or more specifically, Preisdent Snow.


He took a deep breath and relaxed his muscles, knowing that all the cameras were trained on him and the rest of the victors. It hadn't taken him long to figure out that showing emotions on camera was a bad idea, unless it was to play up to the audience. His eyes darted to the stage as the escort went to the bowl with the female tributes' names in it. He vaguely heard the insane girl's name, but Mags volunteered almost immediately. His heart dropped into his stomach, giving him the strong urge to throw up. But he didn't. Instead he watched with an emotionless gaze as Mags climbed onto the stage in the girl's place. The escort didn't even pause to acknowledge her bravery before she went to read the male tribute's name. Finnick O'dair.





That was him. That's his name. Somehow it didn't bother him as much as it should have. At least now he could protect Mags. When he went up on the stage, Mags held out her hand to him and gave him a reassuring smile. Before he could even reach out to take her hand, two peacekeepers pushed him into the Justice Building. He was not escorted to the room where he was supposed to wait for his family to say goodbye. In fact the peacekeepers didn't stop pushing him until they reached the train in the station. He stood just inside the train doors, glaring at the familiar interior. Back to the Games it was, then.

 

[Hannah Lou]

Elizabeth knew her district's mentors would be of little to no help to her. Once she got on the train, she simply went to the small room provided for her and sat down. It had been a few years since she had been in one of these trains, but she recognized the interior. Or rather, the carpets, blankets, tablecloths, napkins, and the list went on. She had seen all of these things when inside the factories back in District 8. It calmed her in some strange way to know that something so familiar was surrounding her when she looked around the cold and foreign train.


Her stomach churned and Elizabeth felt so nervous that she could throw up. She was stronger now, tougher. But this was still the Hunger Games. Her mind flashed back to the first time she was on one of these trains, another young and scared tribute at her side, two mentors telling them a few strategies, but certainly nothing good enough to help them survive. It seemed kind of silly to her, the concept of mentors. Sure, they had won their Games, but everyone watched it on television. Anybody could formulate strategies and see what worked well and what didn't. They had one case of experience, but how valuable would that be to the wide eyed and fearful young people sent out into the Arena? It all depended on how well the mentors did their job, and they had no incentive to do well.


The only time Elizabeth came out was to eat the dinner that was provided for them. It was wonderful compared to the food back home. District 8 wasn't terrible, but it wasn't the Capitol or similar to any of the districts that the Careers came from. She ate, grateful for food but worried she might throw it up due to her anxiety. Elizabeth had been through it all once before but she was worried that she wouldn't survive a second time.

 

[Shadow]

Finnick went to 'his' room, deciding not to wait for the mentors to show up. Last time he had been in this train, he was a scared sixteen year old boy. Now.....he wasn't sure what he was. The Capital's plaything, perhaps? Well, this time at least he knew what was coming. The whole beautification process, training, interviews, getting sponsors. At the same time, it was almost worse to know everything he would have to go through before he was killed. Because he didn't have any mis-guided fantasies that he would actually make it through these Games. Considering the fact that all the tributes were victors, this would probably be the most brutal and gory Games so far.


He sighed quietly as he flopped onto the bed. The only problem with him being so certain of his demise was that it meant Mags would die too. She had been his mentor last time around, and she was the one part of the whole process that actually helped him survive. He only wished he could do the same for her now.


When it was time for dinner, Finnick went out and sat silently as he inhaled his food. After all, what was there to talk about? The fact that they had been lied to and betrayed by the Capital? It wasn't as if it would do them any good. Besides, who knew how closely they were being watched. So as soon as he was done eating, Finnick went back to his room and sat cross-legged on the bed. There wasn't much to do until they reached the Capital, except for sleep, of course. But he wasn't in the mood to sleep, even if it might distract him from his thoughts. Instead, he found some paper and a pencil in the nightstand and began to draw. It was the only thing that helped to calm him down.

 

[Hannah Lou]

As Elizabeth headed back to her room, she tried to trick herself into thinking positive. It didn't work. She had won her first Games by luck and chance and the odds of that happening were as slim as the children in District 12. Her grandmother, Margaret, had told her before Elizabeth's first Games that she wasn't going to outlive her only granddaughter. Eliza felt tears spring to her eyes at the thought of that sweet old woman watching her get slaughtered on television.


"I'm sorry Nana," she mumbled softly to herself, laying on the bed and staring at the ceiling. "Sorry mom, sorry dad..." Elizabeth wouldn't let herself cry or be weak. She was a survivor. Was. In her mind she formulated a plan. In her last days of life she was going to make herself enjoy it. She would be in the Capitol, luxury would surround her, and she would take advantage of it.

 

[Shadow]

Finnick used up all the paper rather quickly, which left him with nothing else to do. So, he left his room and went to the back of the train where he could watch his home disappearing into the horizon. He sighed quietly as he sat down, tucking his legs under himself. He vaguely remembered finding his fellow tribute back here before his last Games. The girl had tried to have a tough and cruel appearance, but she had let him see how scared she really was. Now, he didn't even remember how she had died. For all he knew, he had been the one to kill her. He swallowed the lump in his throat and pushed away the knowledge that he would have do that all over again.


He briefly thought about just hiding once he was in the arena until someone killed him or just getting himself killed right away, but he had never been satisfied with taking the coward's way out. No, he would fight until he died. With that settled in his mind, Finnick tried to let himself relax, simply watching the sun traveling across the sky. All too soon, the train pulled into the Capital where a crowd of adoring fans waited to greet the trains. He moved into the hallway and counted to five before putting on a smile and walking out onto the platform. He saw Mags and a peacekeeper already moving through the crowd for her beautification process. Sure enough, two peacekeepers came over to him and pushed him through the crowd. For some reason, he felt relieved when the noise of the crowd disappeared behind him. He used the love the crowds and the attention, but now it felt stupid and pointless. The peacekeepers made him sit and wait for a while for his prep team to show up.

 

[Hannah Lou]

Elizabeth had learned how to suck it up and deal with things, which is a skill she used as she watched the tall, lavish buildings of the Capitol appear around her. As the train came closer to it's destination she even thought she could make out a few people in the distance, they were just giant blobs of color that hurt her eyes too much to look at them. It physically pained her to see the people in the Capitol, living as though nothing was wrong. She envied the fact that they knew they would never see the inside of an Arena or experience losing a friend or family member to the cruel Games.


She hid this disgust well by the time they arrived at the platform where she would get off and face the crowds of people waiting to see this year's tributes. Elizabeth was nervous to see what would await her when she was ushered off to be remade into something prettier. The prep team showed up and began to poke and prod at Elizabeth, getting to work at wiping away the imperfections of her natural body and turning her into a doll, ready to be dressed.


Her stylist was very kind and surprisingly apologetic about the whole ordeal. That wasn't the way it had been the first time she went through this process. Instead of doing what had been done in previous years with District 8's tributes, there was something different and refreshing.


Usually the attire was the equivalent of dumping a bin full of different fabrics in a pile and sewing them together. This year, Elizabeth was shown a white, form fitting dress made of light flowing fabric that came out at her waist and would float around her when she walked. It was cut out in some places near the top, no doubt to tease those who found her attractive. But, when she put it on, it wasn't white anymore. The dress changed in color and pattern just about every minute, showcasing what was commonly made in District 8. Elizabeth was given a pair of white high heels that she estimated to be about five inches tall. She felt beautiful, but she also couldn't help but feel like an object for the people's amusement.

 

[Shadow]

Finnick sighed quietly when his prep team came in, a cloud of feathers and stupid giggling. They were probably nice people deep down, but right now they were more annoying than anything. The oldest woman kept giving him pitying looks and she kept stroking his hair and making weird cooing noises. The two younger girls kept babbling about random Capital stuff and choking up whenever they looked at him. He appreciated the sentiment, but it was hard to care what they thought since they would be watching him die later.


Eventually, he was sufficiently dolled up enough for his stylist to get to work. His stylist was also a woman, and she was more annoying than all the others combined. The moment she walked in she burst into tears, mumbling about 'gorgeous, youthful, attractive....too hot to die.' And as per usual with District four, he was given a barely-there swimsuit thing made from fishing net. He sighed quietly as the stylist draped the net over his shoulder, gave him a heavy golden crown and a stiff leather trident. The whole get-up strongly resembled the costume he wore the first time he was presented for the Games. They ushered him to the place where the chariots were waiting, then ran off after giving him teary, wet kisses. As soon as they disappeared through the door, he threw off the crown and stashed it behind a plant. Then he started on the trident, pulling out the little nails that held it together, which left it in stiff leather strips. He tied it around his waist like a belt, looping it over his shoulder to hold the net in place. He sighed quietly as he examined himself in a mirror- which were everywhere since the Capital people loved to look at themselves. The outfit still looked ridiculous, but at least it was slightly different than usual.


As he looked around, he realized that he was one of the first tributes to arrive. Probably because his outfit was simply recycled from every other year. He sat on the edge of District Four's chariot and waited, watching the door for the other tributes.

 

[Hannah Lou]

Elizabeth came walking out a door nearby, looking around at the chariots. When she first came here, she was certain it would be the only time she would ever get to see the place, not expecting to be chosen for a second Hunger Games. Now she knew the process. Similarly to her first Games, this time she said to herself that each experience would never happen to her again. She paused for a moment to see only a few others around her.


Elizabeth walked to her chariot, admiring the beautiful horses that would be pulling it sometime in the next half an hour. She predicted the time would go by quickly, as it had before, so she would make the most of it by socializing with others and seeing if she would want to form an alliance with anyone. But, until more of the tributes arrived, she stayed by her chariot and stroked the gorgeous horses.

 

[Shadow]

Finnick waited with growing impatience for everyone to arrive. Not only was his outfit increasingly uncomfortable, but if they were forced to be spectacles for the Capital to marvel at, it would be easier to get it over with sooner as opposed to waiting with nothing to do. His eyes caught on a girl wearing a white dress. He wasn't sure what District that would be from and he didn't really recognize her face, but he had other things to think about. Mags came in, dressed in a beautiful dress that looked like it was made from water. As she walked over, it reflected the sun like fish scales. He smiled slightly, although it didn't quite reach his eyes. At least Mags' stylist knew how to attract attention.


He hopped off of the chariot and gave Mags a quick hug. "Are you ready?" He asked softly, although it was more of a formality. He doubted any of the victors-slash-tributes were ready to go through this again, but they would have to, regardless. Mags nodded and smiled, patting his hand as he helped her onto the chariot. They weren't quite set to ride out yet, but she probably wanted to be ready. Finnick leaned against the chariot again and scanned the growing crowd of tributes. His tilted his head in confusion when the girl he noticed earlier was wearing a different colored dress. After a moment, his mouth formed a silent 'oh' as he realized she must be from District Eight. Textiles. He smiled slightly, impressed by the girl's stylist's ingenuity. He was tempted to go talk to her, but he wasn't sure how well he would be able to keep up his usual flirtatious attitude. If he had to put on a fake personality before he died, he wanted to postpone it for as long as possible.

 

[Hannah Lou]

Elizabeth wandered around, talking with some of the others and socializing like she knew she should. Even though she knew she was going to die, there was some irrational part of her brain that made her hope there was some kind of a way out. She wondered if it would be a good idea to talk to some of the Careers to form alliances with more experienced victors, not simply those who won by luck, which she felt she had. Walking towards the front of the line of chariots, she noticed an uncomfortable looking Finnick Odair. It was well known that people in the Capitol fawned over the man. He was young, famous to a certain degree, and admittedly quite handsome. Elizabeth wondered for a second if he shared the same feelings about the Games as most of the victors from the poorer districts did. She pushed the thought away, dismissing it. He couldn't. He was too close to the Capitol. She'd just have to watch out for him in the Arena. But, it was better to make nice before the slaughter so he might consider leaving her alone rather than spearing her like a fish.


Elizabeth made her way back down the line of chariots, introducing herself and playing nice with everyone she encountered. Now was certainly not the time to make enemies. She came upon District 4's chariot and said hello to Mags. How sad it was that such an old and kind looking woman would be thrown back into this. It just made Elizabeth more angry. The rules were so simple and they had been violated. If you were twelve years old, you got to fear the Games until you were eighteen. Then you were out of the drawing for good. And Mags certainly didn't look anywhere near that age. And then there were the victors with children, and families that they'd started knowing that the pain and suffering was over and they'd never have to go back into an Arena again. They were wrong.


"Your dress looks gorgeous, Mags," Elizabeth said with a smile, coming up beside the chariot. "You look amazing."

 

[Shadow]

Finnick sighed quietly when Mags nudged him. She clearly wanted him to go talk to some of the other tributes to start making alliances with them. He obligingly stood up, but before he could leave, the girl from Eight came over to the. He stood back and remained silent while she talked to Mags.


Mags smiled and sat on the floor of the chariot so she was at eye level with Elizabeth. She reached out and patted the girl's arm, then signaled that she looked beautiful too. Then she turned and grabbed the top of Finnick's outfit and pulled him over gently. He gave her a slightly annoyed look before he turned to the girl, all charming smiles as he was expected to be. "Hello, beautiful. I haven't seen you around much. You must be a recent victor." He said, easily sliding into his flirtatous persona. He leaned against the chariot again, although this time in a much more relaxed-yet-purposeful pose. His eyes scanned her slowly, then traveled back to her face as a sultry smile crossed his features.

 

[Hannah Lou]

"Yes," she smiled as well. "My name is Elizabeth," she said, studying the man in front of her. Like she thought, he was quite handsome, but in person he looked even better. He was as charming as ever but something seemed just a little bit off. "So, someone like you must be excited to go back into the Games. Do you think you'll win this time too?" Elizabeth questioned, thinking it was best to be forward with Finnick. He must be the kind of person to hide behind a smile, she thought. She studied his body language and the way he carried himself, he wasn't happy to be here. Then again, nobody was.

 

[Shadow]

"Elizabeth....that's a lovely name. Mine's Finnick, but I get the feeling you already know that." Finnick said, giving her a mischevious smirk. He could feel Mags smiling behind him, probably excited that he might have an ally. Young girls were usually the easiest to convince, for obvious reasons. But still, this girl seemed more controlled than most, which he secretly appreciated. Sometimes even he got tired of being body-slammed by girls trying to get a lock of his hair or something equally as weird.


"Well, I would say yes, but that wouldn't be a very sportsman-like answer, would it? But I do believe I have as good a chance as anyone else. How about you? Do you think you have what it takes to win?" He asked with a raised eyebrow, leaning down slightly so he could look her in the eye. She seemed spunky enough, so she had a pretty good chance. Although it was hard to forget how soon he would be forced into an arena with her, gunning for her life. He locked those thoughts away and settled into a more light-hearted mindset. He might as well enjoy the view, since that's what one might expect from him anyway.

 

[Hannah Lou]

"I know who you are. You have quite the reputation here in the Capitol," Elizabeth said, returning a bit of a smirk. A part of her doubted that Finnick could really be so flirty all the time, but she knew some men who he reminded her of. She had never seen him without a smirk on his lips and she hadn't heard him speak to a woman without complimenting her in the same sentence. "I don't think I'll be making it out of that Arena alive," she said. Perhaps if she told him her true feelings, she'd see some kind of different side of the man in return. "That's what I told myself last time too. But, we'll see. Maybe I'll surprise myself again," she smiled hopefully.


Elizabeth couldn't stop herself from asking, she was speaking without thinking once again, which could very well end up being her demise. "What do you think of the talk of rebellions in the districts? You must have heard, being in the Capitol so often. Good news travels fast, I guess," she said. Elizabeth couldn't take her words back now, only pray that Finnick supported the rebellions. If not, she may have just made herself a new enemy.

 

[Shadow]

Finnick chuckled and shrugged lightly. "I suppose I do. I hope it doesn't scare you away." He said, looking down at her with a slightly raised eyebrow. He felt his old persona of flirtatious-and-carefree coming a little easier now, which was a relief. Just in time for the big presentation.


The twinkling light in his eyes dimmed a little at her confession. It was inevitable that twenty-three of the people standing around him would be dead within the next few weeks, but it still made him sad to hear that she didn't expect to win. He always heard that hoping for the best usually made the best things happen. "Maybe you will." He said, smiling gently.


Finnick raised an eyebrow and studied her expression, trying to see if she was joking. He heard Mags shift closer behind him. He scanned the room quickly, eyeing each tribute nearby to see if they were watching. "That's dangerous talk around here, love. Especially if you're in favor of a revolution." He said disapprovingly, answering the way he knew he should. But he was only more intrigued by this girl who talked so openly about something so sensitive. It was true though, he had heard of the unrest in the districts, even rumors of plans for an uprising. But those were secrets he kept to himself, unwilling to risk his own life just to spread the news. Obviously Elizabeth felt differently. "But.....if I had heard talk of an uprising, I might say, about damn time." He said, almost whispering it as he leaned closer to her. He stood up straight and laughed, so anyone watching might think he had just told her a secretive joke. There was no such thing as being too careful, nowadays.

 

[Hannah Lou]

Elizabeth smirked when she heard those words. It was good to know someone from another district, and even someone so close to the Capitol would believe that an uprising was a good thing. It wasn't what she'd expected from Finnick, but she was kind of glad he had said what he did. Maybe he wasn't all that bad. But, that only made her wonder something more. If Finnick wanted uprising in the districts, a rebellion against the Capitol, why? He had it pretty good as far as she knew, so why would he want that all to go away? What had happened to the young man?


"I doubt what we say is going to be dangerous for much longer. I'm looking forward to not needing to watch how I speak and what I say to people. You can't speak when you're dead," Elizabeth said. She sounded strangely calm about thinking she was going to die soon. "I take it you didn't see the reaping in my district. If anybody wants a rebellion, it's us. Most of us, at least. These Games are only fuel to that fire. How did you feel, knowing you may have to go back into the Arena again?" she questioned him, trying to get Finnick to open up just a little bit more.

 

[Shadow]

Finnick nodded, watching her carefully. He had seen several tributes before that lost the light in their eyes; those were the ones who tried to kill themselves before the Games. But she didn't have that vacant expression, which made it seem like she didn't truely want to die, despite how she talked. Although, there was a difference between giving up on life and accepting the fact that you would die. So maybe she still had enough fighting spirit to win the Games. He wasn't sure why he cared what her mental state was, but he did still find it a bit odd that she was talking so freely about her own death. Maybe when she got to the arena it would truely hit her how inevitable death was. He sighed quietly, tired of how casually he thought about someone dying. He would like to think he could be empathetic, but the Capital had forced him to be someone else, something else.


"No, I didn't see a point in studying my competition beforehand. You're from Eight, right?" It wasn't really a question. "I don't see how your District would win any fight against the Capital, no offense. I think if there is to be a rebellion, we have to do it right; which means everyone standing against the Capital together. Maybe by the end of the Quarter Quell, the Districts will finally unite." He said, frowning slightly when Mags smacked his shoulder. She used to tell him to live every day like it was going to get better. Obviously she didn't agree with his slightly pessimistic opinion. "To be honest, I never really had time to stop and wonder how I felt. I suppose I wasn't thrilled, though. I doubt any of us are." He said, looking around at the other tributes. They were mingling, greeting one another after months of not seeing each other. But most of them were aquaintences, if not friends. He could almost feel the undertone of sadness and anger in the mood of the room.

 

[Hannah Lou]

Elizabeth nodded, watching Finnick for a moment before the order was given to get onto the chariots. "I'll see you later, Finnick," Elizabeth said, before walking back to her chariot and getting on with the help of the other male tribute from her district. The conversation, however short it may have been, gave Elizabeth something to think about. Maybe there would be some kind of rebellion in the near future. And what if she did survive? What would she do then? She hadn't know anything but the laws and routines of Panem and neither did anyone else, so how would they adjust.


All Elizabeth could think of was rebellion as the chariots pulled out for the Tribute Parade. She couldn't help but smile, imagining President Snow's whole system falling to pieces at the hands of the districts. It was a beautiful thought, one she would love to be alive to see. So she would try her hardest. She would fight to survive the Games then fight to bring down Snow. It was quite an optimistic plan, relying mostly on luck, but if there was even a slight chance it would work, Elizabeth would take that chance.

 

[Shadow]

"I will look forward to it, Elizabeth." Finnick said, smiling and bowing his head as she walked away. He climbed into the chariot beside Mags as the procession started. His mind was caught in his conversation with Elizabeth. Could there really be a rebellion that soon? Maybe this Game would end before it even started. But the questions was, did he really want to get involved? If it meant saving Mags, then of course.....but what could the Districts really do against the Capital? Even if they all allied together- which would be quite an accomplishment- most of them lacked fighting skills and were half-starved.


As their chariot pulled into view, he shook away his thoughts and put on a smile. Mags put her hand in his, giving him a quick smile before she turned to wave at the crowd. He knew it was a good show for them to hold hands, but he also knew she did it for comfort. This parade brought back the very real knowledge that they would be in the arena again soon, rebellion or no rebellion. He followed Mags' example and waved at the crowd, giving special smiles to the young ladies he could see in the crush of people. Finally the chariots pulled up in a line in front of President Snow's balcony. The anthem of Panem started playing and the crowd waited breathlessly. President Snow gave his usual speech before the chariots were allowed to continue to the training building.


Finnick jumped down from the chariot as soon as it pulled to a stop. If he had to wear this stupid outfit for much longer, he would go crazy. He helped Mags down, then they went their separate ways to change into their training suits. He wasn't the first person in the training room, but he decided not to approach anyone yet. Instead he found somewhere to sit and watched the door for Elizabeth. Once he realized what he was doing, he sighed quietly. It was foolish to even think about making friends with her, but he couldn't help it. Something about her was so innocent and unique. She was nothing like the people he was usually forced to interact with. So he allowed himself to continue watching for her as the time for training drew closer.


((I hope this works! Sorry if it's a little boring, I seem to be having a little trouble with writers block, too. :/ ))