So It Goes {Train Ride - Patricia, Lethe, Pixie, and Zeki}

♕ { p a t r i c i a v a l f i e r n o} ♕
victor of the 68th annual hunger games

i'll taste the devil's tears
drink from his soul
but i'll never give up you
i'll taste the devil's tears

"Ladies first..." And my heart leaps. I try to be stone, unmovable and rigid. A figure of strength as I stand on the stage with my back to the Justice Building. I am positioned to the left of the Capitol representative, pressed against the wall like a portrait. To my left is Lethe, who seems far more relaxed. Well, she would be, she doesn't have a little sister in the Reaping, and Eden is only nine. I swallow, my throat raw, having horsed down a quick breakfast and assuring Rose that her odds of being Reaped are significantly low, and she only has two more years left. But I was Reaped, and my odds were minuscule. No tesserae this year. No unnecessary risks, that's what I tell myself.

I look to baby Phelix, hoisted over his mother's shoulder and making constipated faces at the wall. He is cute, when he's not shitting his diaper or throwing up over Lethe's dress. Babies are messy things. I can't imagine myself ever having one. Too much added responsibility, and one more thing the Capitol can use against me.

"Pixie Ruined." Comes the voice, and just like that, it's over. Rose is safe. I sigh with relief, but try to remain empathetic for the poor girl who was Reaped. Her face is already filled with defeat. It's a crushing fate, as I remember all too well. Not inescapable, though. I can help her as best I can. Her face is gaunt, her features well defined for a young adult. I am guessing she is eighteen, or incredibly mature for her age. That will hold her in good stead. Ripred forbid a twelve-year-old is ever Reaped.

"Zeki Webb." The Capitolite spits the name, and another sorry soul is dragged up to the stage. One of them is going to die, at least. Can't save both of them. My mind trails to Blaire. The Sycamore family have been through a rough couple of years, with Lalia and Blaire both getting Reaped either side of the 67th Games. Lots of broken families. Lots of broken faces out there, even now.

The two Tributes are shown into the Justice Building, and the doors closed firmly behind them. The crowd begins to disperse. I look out for Rose, but can find no sign of my younger sister in the ocean of relieved faces. I pause for a few seconds, holding onto hope that I see a glimmer of her, but eventually I accept that I have to leave. Leaving home for a few months, back to that carnival of a place they call the Capitol. I grit my teeth and follow Lethe off the stage. Phelix looks at me from over his mother's shoulder, wide-eyed and interested. He makes some kind of half-noise, half-cry. I smile at him, trying to coax a positive reaction, but he just stares.

We make our way onto the train, Lethe and I wordless. Our relationship has been somewhat a strange one. Since that night four months ago, when we were snowed into her house and she started giving birth. I don't know. Helping deliver her baby was something I had to do, not because I felt I owed Lethe, but because it's a basic human right. That baby needed help, not just Lethe. It was a miracle that Eden and I were able to deliver him safely. Since then, I've been less harsh on Lethe. I've dropped the whole being left for dead fiasco, at least for now. For the moment, we need to work together to help these Tributes survive, but I will understand if she has to hold back because of Phelix.

A year ago, this was my prison. Now it's my reward. So why do I still feel trapped? I'm not the one being sent to my death, but the deja-vu is enough to make it feel like I am. I stare out the window as the train begins to move, away from our home and towards a place both wonderful and horrific. We pick up speed, and I move away, accepting that I won't see Rose or District Five for another few months. The room is silent, except for Phelix's unsettled noises. Lethe comforts him, and I pick at the buffet of food laid out for us. For a while, it's nice. It feels like we're guests here. As selfish as it sounds, I just want to sit here and enjoy the luxury, if only for a few minutes, before we have to deal with the issue of our two Tributes. What are their names? Pixie and... Zack? No, Zuka. Wait, Zeki. Shit. I press my palms down on the table and stand up. I hold for a few seconds, before turning and walking out, leaving Lethe and Phelix.

The door slides open automatically, and I'm in the space between carriages. The lights flicker between on and off, and my chest tightens. Small space, not a lot of light. I push through as fast as I can and into the main carriage. Zeki and Pixie are there, crippled looks permanently etched on their faces. They look at me as I walk in, and I don't know what to say or do. They've been given a death sentence, with a fractional chance of survival. Their eyes are on me, so I feel inclined to say something.

"I'm sorry guys," I try to be as sympathetic as I can. I was in their place just a year ago.
"I know how shit this is for you, but I'm going to do everything I can to give you guys the best possible chance..." I stand at the head of the table, "My name's Patricia. Anything you need, just say, okay?"

Because I'm going to be everything to them that Lethe wasn't to me.

he said "i am the devil, boy,
come with me and we'll break many laws"
he offered me eternal life
but inside my heart there's a picture of a girl

word count: 967, graphics: rook
theme: the devil's tears by angus and julia stone

♕ { p a t r i c i a v a l f i e r n o} ♕
victor of the 68th annual hunger games

i'll taste the devil's tears
drink from his soul
but i'll never give up you
i'll taste the devil's tears

"How do you make people like you?" Zeki asks suddenly. Now there's a question. I stifle a laugh, because it shouldn't be funny, but it is. It's no secret that people didn't like me. I was a rebel - Everything the Capitol didn't want in a Victor. I never received sponsorship, nor did I get a high training score. That worked in my favor, I suppose. I never needed any help. Not from Lethe, not from Sponsors, not from the Gamemakers. I won purely on my own merit. A pure Victor, in every sense of the word. It's only now that I realize how big an achievement that really is.

The train moves at over two hundred miles an hour. That's what my escort told me a year ago to the day, like the fact was something I would be interested in hearing. I didn't care how fast we were going, nor how long it would take for the train to deliver me to the slaughterhouse. I was numb, and that's how they must be feeling too. Completely and utterly numb. As the trees shoot past the windows, I notice that we are way out of Five now, and into the wilderness between Districts. If the train were to stop, we could all just run away and vanish into the hundreds of square miles. They'd catch us, eventually, but the freedom would be nice. I often think of acts against the Capitol, even though I know I'd never be ballsy enough to pull something off again, not now my sister was directly threatened. They say that when you win, it's over, but it's not. You keep on playing even when the Game finishes.

I know that neither of these kids are anything like me, and so their chances are far slimmer. I had that one in a hundred killer instinct, that gut feeling that helped me act in moments where my life was in danger. They might have it, they might not, but if you look at the long line of Victors, you won't see one that wasn't decisive. You can't argue with fact. If they go into these Games already beaten, they won't win. Right? My mind plays with the idea of giving up to the point where your life no longer means as much, and so you'll take more risks, but then I realize how stupid that is. I always valued my life, and that's why I won. I wasn't like those Careers, who were unphased by the horrors of the Games, and so underestimated the majority of things that came their way.

Fear keeps you alive. I wonder if that advice will sink in. When the buzzer sounds and they're all running at, or away from the Cornucopia, I'm almost certain they'll think of those words. Fear keeps you from doing something stupid, and getting yourself killed. I did plenty of stupid things in my Games, and I was lucky not to be killed doing them. Throwing that fucking petrol bomb, for one, could have blown my arm off. Maybe there's a middle ground between cautious and reckless, but then I'm not sure. I was always cautious when I could be. Those dangerous moments where I put my body on the line to harm others were acts of desperation. I took chances because there were no alternatives. I never did anything without thinking about it. It was all weighed up. Rationalized.

And they look to me for all the answers, and the pressure on me is crushing. I'm not a coward though, I face it, like I face everything else. They want me to be the person to save them, but really only they can save themselves. I'm not gonna be able to do shit once they're in that Arena, spare get them sponsorship if I can. My fists clench and my face screws up. Get people to like you. That was Lethe's area, more than mine. She'd have good advice for that. She'd tell them that making friends was how you survive, and having allies helps, and having sponsors really helps. So, in a way, being likeable is a key survival skill, just not one that I had, or know much about.

"If someone has sponsored you, it's because they have a bet on you, and want you to win so that they can win their jackpot." I say, thinking through the facts, "If you're doing well, people will put bets on you, and so more people are potential sponsors."
Sounds okay so far, even though I never really thought about it before. Sponsors only bet on you for their own interests, not because you're a nice person, or likeable. They'll bet on on you if they think you can win, and they'll sponsor you to help you win. That's how it works.

"So, the more dangerous you are, the more support you'll get. You'll need to train hard, and get a good score. I'll help you how I can, with that."

he said "i am the devil, boy,
come with me and we'll break many laws"
he offered me eternal life
but inside my heart there's a picture of a girl

word count: 833, graphics: rook
theme: the devil's tears by angus and julia stone