"I would steer clear from him," he said to Vybe as a rowdy tribute from Two passed by. Now that the richer districts had the means to train their tributes, there seemed to be a clear divide between the haves and have-nots. Then again, who was Cab to give any advice? He would be lucky if his own made it through the bloodbath. It simply wasn't fair. Was it too much to ask for an even playing field?
With a shrug, he turned to Vybe and offered a consolatory smile. He might not be from Five, but it was far easier than speaking to some snobbish Capitol citizen he had nothing in common with. "The tributes from One, Two, and Four? I'd be careful if I were you."
Hiding away from his tributes was a bad idea. Cab had plenty of those to go around despite the Capitol pretending he was some sort of genius. Playing around with his gadgets was one thing, but training tributes to survive the arena was another—one that relied on pure, dumb luck like he did. No, he could barely fake the pleasantries and small talk with the pair. Instead, he tucked himself away into the small corner while they practiced with the escort.
"I know it looks bad, but I doubt I'll be of any use out there," he said, pitifully. The fact that he failed to bring home a victor for Five proved just as much. "I won't stop you if you want to join me. We can even pretend to talk about strategies."
Where: Lobby of Tribute Facility
When: A few hours after arriving at the Capitol
Being in the Capitol felt terrifying. The only thing Blossom had ever known was District Seven. Beautiful trees. Nature. Flowers with lovely scents filling the air. Bees buzzing by and crickets chirping. The Capitol felt... different. Stoney and loud. Luckily the time that would be spent in the Capitol would be in the Tribute Facility where it was at least a little more quiet. Not much, but a little better.
Now that she was cleaned and not covered in germs, per the person who cleaned her up, she was wandering around the tower. She wasn't sure if she was trying to find the floor where District Seven stayed or somewhere to eat, but she was just trying to find some sort of distraction. Something to do. Finally finding someone to ask directions from, she quickly walked over to them. Tapping on their shoulder as she was standing behind them, she spoke kindly. "Please tell me you've been here before and know your way around the building? I need a human map."
His tribute had run off someplace or another, leaving Cab loitering the lobby aimlessly. First day back and already he was feeling skittish being surrounded by Capitol citizens. It was nice when people forgot he existed when he was holed up in Six, leaving him to his tinkering. But in the city, they looked at him as if he were a sideshow. He could only imagine how the tributes must be feeling at that moment.
"Oh." It was all he could manage when one of them had approached Cab. He didn't recognize which district she belonged to, but she looked just as lost as he did when he first stepped off the train. "Well, yes. I mean, no. I have been here before, but the quieter places mostly. I tend to avoid everywhere else," he said, shrugging. "You're free to join me, but tributes really should be with their mentors."
where; the cafeteria of the Tribute Facility
whomst; open
Vybe was staring. They knew it. But god, where on earth did the Capitol get so much food? According to their Mentor they needed to fatten up before the Games started but they could only do that if they made up their mind as to what to eat. This just felt excessive. Vybe didn't even recognize most of it.
"We're really allowed to eat any of this?" They asked incredulously. "This feels like some kind of test. Or trap. Or both? Probably both."
The Capitol—the opulence, the decadence, the sheer amount of wealth on display—had become normal for Cab. Annoying, even. Hearing the tribute speak reminded him that nothing in the city was commonplace at all. It was no wonder that they thought it suspicious.
"Your mentor is right, you know. I suggest you eat while you still can," he answered. Cab hated how blunt it sounded, but it didn't make it any less true. "Food might be hard to come by in the arena. You'll regret not making the most of it."
Her fingers wrapped around the metal of the fence that surrounded the rooftop. Jule leaned her forehead against the cool surface, looking out over the lower rooftops of the city as her teeth sank into her bottom lip.
When she looked back towards the expanse of the rooftop, a person had joined the sad collection of potted plants. "D'you think someone just had a couple too many of these dumb plants in their apartment and was looking for a place to dispose of them?" she halfheartedly joked. "Seems like it."
Of course, Cab considered it. Knowing the game makers, they probably just wanted to gloat. It wasn't like the Capitol had much in the way of greenspace so what better way to prove that no expense would be spared for the games? Still, he kept that to himself. Snow and his minions had ears in places where you'd least expect it.
"This space was barren when I first came here. It's all supposed to boost morale," he said as if they weren't risking their lives regardless if there were a few potted plants there or not. "Do you have a lot of plant life where you're from? We don't get much of it in Six."
Mars had initiated the conversation with Cab, the small talk turned into some quiet which they didn’t mind too much. Over the years of interacting with him, Mars knew that he was a little odd – but then again, they weren’t the most normal either. They knew what to expect, for the most part, that the conversation would continue at some point.
They looked to Cab with an amused, questioning look, “Are you trying to get Game secrets out of me? Come on now, Cab. I wouldn’t tell you even if I could – that’d ruin the surprise.” They give him a smile, “But yes, the games this year have kept me busy. It actually made me a little nervous to hear I could get reaped, what would happen if I had? All that work,” they make a motion with their hand, “poof, gone.”
Mars could tell that Cab was nervous, that didn’t stop them from keeping conversations, though they didn’t know if their presence helped or made it worse. There was a part of them that found it somewhat entertaining. “What about you? Has the time between been busy for you at all?”
Cab studied Mars, nearly spouting off on a tangent of questions before he thought better of it. Did they really think of themself as a district citizen? How strange. Mars had been a part of the machine that sent the kids from Three to the slaughter and somehow they believed they would somehow get chosen. As if the President would stand for such a thing. As if Mars didn't belong to the Capitol. Maybe they should have been voted in—fairly deserved, as Cab would like to think—but as if there were such a thing as "fair" when it came to the Hunger Games.
"Is that so? You practically belong to the Capitol, Mars," Cab blurted out, unable to stop himself. Being a smart-ass always got him into trouble, but insulting an engineer was a touch too far even for him. "B-by that I mean you're an asset to Ravinstill. And who am I to speak? Even I belong to the Capitol to some extent. You know, we both worked hard to get to where we are." Some plenty more than others. After a beat, Cab cleared his throat as if to gain a sense of composure for himself. "I've been working on a few things. Nothing as impressive as what you have going on for the games. Keeps me busy enough, though."
The Capitol was buzzing and Cab, nervous as ever, felt as out of place as he did all those years ago. The Quarter Quell might have been a cause for celebration in the city, but people in Six had almost rioted at the announcement. The Hunger Games were enough of a spectacle—did Ravensill have to go and make it worse just because 25 years had passed? As if that were something to celebrate.
Cab didn't dare say any of this aloud. He found it best to stay under the radar, avoiding unwanted attention from Capitol officials looking for any excuse to label someone a rebel. If he had to smile and play pretend, then so be it. Cab had seen what they did to so-called "traitors" and, as much as he hated it, no one could deny that they wouldn't have ended up on the wrong side of the Peacekeeper's barrel if they had just kept their mouths shut. Really, he wasn't going to risk it. Not after everything he'd been through. That didn't make conversations with them any less awkward, though. Capitolites, district-born or otherwise, made him feel like a bug under a microscope.
"So, uh, have you been working on anything exciting for this year? I'm sure you have, I mean, the Games have been impressive these past few years. I must say it's been incredible to watch. But, don't get me wrong, they always have been!" Cab found himself rambling, but he couldn't find the off switch if his life depended on it. "I suppose, uh, you have your work cut out for you."
✗ CONFIDENTIAL TRIBUTE FACILITY SIGN UP SHEET records the attendance of CAB BOGEY, a MENTOR from DISTRICT SIX. The applicable authorities may note, that the 30 year old MALE ( HE/HIM ) is RESOURCEFUL, KIND-HEARTED, AND RESILIANT, but has also been known to be UNSTABLE, TIMID, AND CAUTIOUS. Similarities in appearance can be seen with DEV PATEL. According to previous reports, they’re often associated with SCATTERED PAPERS AND TOOLS SPREAD OUT NEXT TO UNFINISHED PROJECTS and WATCHING THE PARTY GO BY FROM THE CORNER OF THE ROOM WHILE PRETENDING TO BE BUSY WITH HIS WATCH.
BIO
“Cab has a few screws loose.”
Cab Bogey was no stranger to schoolyard insults. Let them talk—it wasn’t as if they were wrong. If anything, every miserable circumstance that led to his name being reaped for the 13th Hunger Games only proved his point. Jittery and nervous, his parents tried tirelessly to quell his uneasiness to no avail. Cab was simply better off with a wrench and screwdriver than he was with other kids.
The Games hadn’t been a concern for Cab, though. Not when the world was scary enough without the thought of a screaming death match against countless other children until a bloody Victor would be named and the process would restart year after ye— Like a runaway train, Cab Bogey’s anxieties couldn’t be stopped.
Could anyone blame him? No one from Six came out of the war unscathed. Cab might not have been on the frontlines, but he saw the destruction of his district firsthand.
The only things that had helped to ground him were the machines and gadgets he could get his eager, little hands on. It started as a small curiosity, fiddling around with tools for no reason in particular. It fascinated him to see wires flow through like veins and gears like organs, creating something just as real as his own. At times, Cab would break it all down just to see if he could put it back together again. He was a district stereotype through and through, a child of Six just as much as he belonged to his parents.
It was a useful hobby — one that would have seen him excel in a life where others merely passed by. Trains would come and go around Six, but he would have been completely content to stay where he felt at home. Soon enough, he just might be able to find a job around the stations. Maybe work his way through the ranks. Live a quiet life he’d always wanted.
Then, his name was picked out of the bowl.
The future he’d envisioned was dashed the second he heard it. To Cab, the Games existed in his peripheral vision—just far enough away that he never expected to be called. The worries and fears that lived in his brain were overshadowed by his inevitable death.
It was sheer luck that his Games were held at a junkyard. Had it been the Capitol arena of the past, Cab was sure he wouldn't have made it out of there alive. Through his knowledge of tinkering, he managed to go by undetected and even used the scrap to his advantage.
Against all odds, Cab survived the arena. It came at a price of his well-being but he was alive, wasn’t he? It didn’t matter that he’d grown even more cautious and paranoid since becoming Victor. Or, that the slam of the door left him reeling In panic. Cab still practices his tinkering and crafting, happy enough that the Capitol leaves him alone to his hobby. The Games had derailed his life, but at least he could still say he was along for the ride—wherever his destination ended up taking him.
