Feeling faint from the Parade, Ellery stumbled around the party looking for somewhere to sit. He wanted to hide in a corner; to retire to his room for the night and leave all these obnoxious people behind. He couldn’t, though. They were officially in the Capitol, and Ellery knew that every moment would matter from here on out.
He spied some Gamemakers to his right and began walking in their direction. Maybe one of them knew his father. Perhaps they had a secret message for Ellery. But how would he know? He couldn’t outright ask them. “Hello,” he would say. “I’m planning on cheating the Games... have you heard anything that might help me?” Of course not-- it was a ludicrous idea.
Before he could reach their table, Ellery felt a tap on his shoulder. Here it is, he thought. The message. Without bothering to check who it was, Ellery whipped around to face his companion.
By the time the train arrived in the Capitol, the morphling had worn off. Ellery was calmer than before-- partially due to the drug, but also because he had gotten his first full night of sleep in a week. As he looked out on the familiar skyline awaiting him, he felt a strange pang of hope. No, thought Ellery. Not hope. That would be foolish. He decided that his feeling was simply a toned-down sense of despair. It was better than nothing.
Ellery was the first to emerge from the District 2 train car-- he had promised Syren that he would lead the way. He wasn’t sure what to think of his District partner, but he was happy enough to part the crowd for her. It must be overwhelming, he thought. Your first trip to the Capitol as meat on a platter. The plan worked, though-- the cameras hardly noticed Syren. Instead, they flocked to Ellery. The Capitol’s golden boy. Or maybe I’m just their exotic pet.
“Ellery, Ellery!” shouted one eager journalist. “Over here!”
From the woman’s high-pitched squawk, Ellery recognized her as Livillia Plum-- an infamous tabloid writer and an old acquaintance. Highbrow papers rarely covered district people, so the job was usually left to the yellow press. Still, Ellery was relieved to see a familiar face in the crowd of rainbow-clad gawkers.
“Livillia!” he said. “Am I glad to see you!”
“My dear,” she replied while shuffling through the cameras. “How have you been keeping? I must say, this whole thing is such a tragedy. That you, of all people, would be selected for the Games... well, it’s just mind-boggling. Wonderful to have you back, though. Just wonderful!”
Ellery looked at the woman’s excessively purple hair and tried to conceal his contempt. What a Capitol thing to say, he thought. “We’re so sorry for you, oh, yes... but we’re so excited!” They had never really cared about him as a person. It was all just novelty.
“I’m fine,” answered Ellery nonchalantly. “Actually, Livillia-- I have a question for you.” He paused. “If it’s really such a tragedy, I must ask... who did you vote for from my district?”
It was hard to notice beneath all the makeup, but Ellery could see Livillia’s face grow pale. “P-Pardon?” she stammered. “I... well, I don’t know if I should say...”
“No, go ahead!” Ellery leaned in and smiled. “Whisper it, if you must. I just have to know.”
A single bead of sweat dripped out from Livillia’s garish wig. She cupped her mouth with her hand and pressed it against Ellery’s ear. “You, obviously,” she mumbled. “But it wasn’t personal. I didn’t truly think that... that they would do it.”
Ellery had known all along. The Capitol bigwigs who adored him were the same ones who had sent him to an early grave. He was about to tell Livillia to go fuck herself when a Peacekeeper grabbed his arm.
“This way,” snarled the man. “No private conversations with Capitol citizens are allowed.”
“I’m sorry!” shouted Livillia, her grating voice growing ever more distant. “You’ll do great, though! Good luck!”
The Peacekeeper pressed Ellery into the backseat of a nearby car. Syren was already there, looking undaunted. I should’ve let her off first, thought Ellery. Fresh meat for Livillia. Ellery wasn’t naïve-- he knew where the Capitol’s sympathies lay. Even so, he hadn’t realized just how deep those feelings ran. Livillia had known him for years, and yet she had voted for his death like it was nothing. Maybe it was.
An awkward silence filled the car, and Ellery counted the minutes until he could leave. Syren was impenetrable-- a bit like Lyra in that way. Her lack of interest in Ellery was unsurprising. She probably hates me, he thought. Lots of people in District 2 did. They were jealous of the Andesines’ influence. Eh, let her think what she wants. We both ended up here, after all. None of that power means anything now.
After arriving at the prep center, Ellery was escorted down a hallway into a neon-lit room. The space was quite minimalist-- illuminated in the orange glow, all Ellery could see was a single table with a few chairs and some fabric racks. He turned around to ask if he was in the right place, but the Peacekeeper was gone. Just then, a girl poked her head out from behind a rack.
“Need something?” she asked. She was about Ellery’s age, and dressed in surprisingly plain clothes. If not for their location, Ellery would’ve assumed she was a district girl.
“Um...” muttered Ellery, “I’m not sure. The Peacekeeper brought me here, but he might’ve mixed up his directions.”
“Peacekeeper?” A look of understanding crossed the girl’s face. “Oh, duh. You’re my tribute, right? District 2? I’m Serena, nice to meet you.” She wheeled over to Ellery on a swivel chair and extended her hand.
They shook, and Ellery took a seat next to the girl. “So, you’re my... stylist, or what? You’re a little...”
“Young?” Serena interjected.
“Well, yeah,” said Ellery. “I rarely watch the Games, but I remember the stylists being a bit more, uh... seasoned.”
Serena laughed. “Well, it is my first year. The old D2 stylist died in an accident yesterday, so I’m afraid you’re stuck with me. I’m still in school, but they said they’d give me a few credits for dressing you up all pretty.” She rolled her eyes. “What’s your name, again?”
“Ellery,” he replied. “Andesine? Does that ring a bell? I’m sure you’ve heard of me.”
Serena thought for a moment, then shook her head. “Nope. Can’t say that I have. If you’re some sort of celebrity or something, forgive me. I’m not really tuned into all that stuff.”
A student stylist? Who doesn’t even know who I am? Ellery wasn’t sure whether to be angry or relieved. He felt a bit disrespected, but he couldn’t deny that there was a certain freedom in anonymity. Unlike Livillia and her fake show of empathy, Serena didn’t seem to give two shits about Ellery’s background. It was honestly nice.
Serena stood up and paced around Ellery, biting her lip while she assessed every inch of his body. “Oh, I get it,” she scoffed. “You’re some sort of rich kid, aren’t you? I wondered why I didn’t get a larger prep team, but now it makes sense. Your grooming is exceptional. I guess we just need an outfit, then. You’re already winning in the beauty department.” She walked away and began thumbing through some nearby fabrics. After a minute or so of silence, she glanced up at Ellery. “I wasn’t flirting with you, so you can wipe that dumbfounded look off your face. Men are disgusting, but that doesn’t mean I can’t admire one who has some semblance of hygiene. Jeez, I’m glad they gave me D2. Just imagine if they sent some farmer boy in here and expected me to scrape the dirt out of his toes.” She chuckled at her own joke, then continued looking through the fabrics without waiting for Ellery’s response.
I didn’t think she was flirting, thought Ellery. This whole thing is just weird. Somehow, though, he was taken by Serena’s manic energy and her total lack of professionalism. He was too tired to control anyone. Better to just sit back and let her do her thing.
And do her thing she did-- a few hours later, Serena had fashioned an all-black outfit for Ellery with a bead-studded harness. “You have to say a lot by saying a little,” she told him. “When I grew up... well, let’s just say the D2 outfits were shit. At their best, the tributes were wearing these massive winged helmets that looked so dumb. At their worst, those poor kids were just dressed like bricks. Not to jerk myself off too much, but I honestly think Ol’ Tiberius falling on those train tracks might’ve been a good thing for both of us.” She smirked.
“Wait...” said Ellery, “the last stylist fell on the tracks? What happened?!”
“Got ripped apart,” answered Serena. “They were cleaning it up all day before your train got in. Had to make sure the tributes didn’t stain their shoes with stylist soup.”
Ellery winced. It sounded horrific-- but the more he thought about it, he was glad that Serena was here. He didn’t want to be dressed like a brick.
Serena buttoned up the outfit, and Ellery looked around for a mirror. “Really?” asked the stylist. “You don’t trust me?”
“No, it’s not that. I, uh... well, I just like to...”
“You like to look at yourself, huh? Makes sense for a rich boy. Trust me, though, you look good. I’ve done all the work-- now you just need to smile and wave, and they’ll eat that shit up.”
“I know how to deal with crowds,” said Ellery defensively. “I’m not some rube.”
Serena shrugged. “Didn’t say you were. Just trying to do my job. Then again, I wasn’t trained to be some feel-good counselor. You’re probably gonna die, but I’m sure you know that.”
“I do,” replied Ellery, “but thanks for reminding me.” He let out a small laugh-- there was something refreshing about Serena’s honesty. Most Capitol people would dance around the issue, but politeness wouldn’t change anything. It was okay to laugh. It was funny.
“Anyway,” she said with a wink, “good luck. I mean it. Even if you end up six feet in the ground, I’m sure you’ll be remembered for being the first tribute lucky enough to wear my work.”
Ellery gave her a wry smile. “Perfect. I wouldn’t have it any other way.” He hugged Serena and thanked her for the wishes, even if she had been a bit blunt.
The chariots arrived, and Ellery was reunited with Syren. Her stylist had clearly talked with Serena, since she was sporting a similarly minimal all-black outfit. As they rode through the Capitol, Ellery felt conflicted. The screams, the jeers, the applause-- they all melded together into a cacophony of evil. Whether these people knew it or not, they were complicit in a broken system. A system that had murdered Ellery’s mom; that had sent him to a violent death.
Yet somehow, it was easy to get lost in the spectacle. Ellery couldn’t help it-- it always happened when he came to the Capitol. Hatred and resentment were gradually replaced by joy. No one else believed it, but he belonged here. He was glad Serena hadn’t dressed him as a brick-- not only would it have looked ridiculous; it would’ve reaffirmed a lie. Ellery wasn’t District 2. Back there, he would only spend time in the mansion, wasting hours on drugs and meaningless work. In the Capitol, he became himself-- a statement, an icon. Someone who elicited cheers by simply existing.
The spotlight itself was a drug more powerful than morphling. The costumes, the music, the show-- it was enough to make Ellery forget about the Games, if only for a moment. Shining for the cameras, he forgot about his mother. He forgot about Poppy, Fort, and Zephyr. He wasn’t in the chariot anymore. No, no... he was in the stands with his fellow Capitol citizens, observing the pageant from a higher vantage point. Watching it all from a safe distance. And when President Coin emerged to announce the commencement of the Quell... well, Ellery almost felt a tinge of patriotism. Almost.
Then he heard her speak, and the illusion collapsed. Waving a sweaty hand to conceal his shaking, Ellery looked at the ground and waited for it all to be over.
Merrit kept his head still firmly planted on the table for a few moments longer before raising it and meeting Ellery’s gaze with an exasperated stare.
“Lover boy! Well, you’re right there of course. I haven’t seen anyone who would even make me break a sweat. But maybe there’ll be some surprises along the way.” He looked Ellery up and down as he got up from his seat, he didn’t look threatening, he was slim, not a lot of muscle on him at all. Merrit wasn’t the largest and most intimidating man but next to Ellery he looked more imposing than normal.
He stopped in front of the boy, pausing for a moment. “I want you to hit me.” he spoke bluntly.
Lover boy? Who did Merrit think he was? Ellery immediately regretted greeting the Career-- he knew that something like this would happen.
“You know,” said Ellery, “I’d rather not.”
He sat down, grabbing Merrit’s jar of coins and dumping its contents on the ground. Their eyes locked, and Ellery smirked-- despite his fear, he was unflinching.
“If you’re that hard up for action, go ahead and hit me. Seriously-- punch me, break my bones, do whatever you want.” Ellery shrugged. “I’m sure the Capitol would love it if you injured one of their star tributes before the Quell even started.”
Ellery was bluffing, of course. But it was also a test-- he wanted to see if Merrit was truly the hardened killer he made himself out to be. Better to find out here than in the arena, thought Ellery. Without blinking, he steeled himself.
Merrit had found himself flicking coins into an empty glass, moving the glass further and further away each time the glass shivered with a successful shot. I’m so bored. He resigned his forehead to the gold hard glass of the table and let out an audible sigh. BORED. He screamed internally. Oh how he longed for some action, if he were back home he could go spar or train, anything must be better than sitting on this god forsaken train. The people were nice enough, most of them were fairly uninteresting though and he hadn’t found anyone he thought could even challenge him. He continued to sit there, his forehead still overly friendly with the table.
Ellery was walking along the train when he spied Merrit through the screen of the next door.
Shit, he thought. After pulling his ghost trick the previous day, he had been hoping to avoid the boy. Merrit was trouble-- anyone with two working eyes could see as much. In fact, he seemed to be the only real Career on the train. Fort was too soft, and Poppy... well, she was Poppy. Still, Ellery felt some responsibility to get on better terms with Merrit. He had a habit of holding grudges, but hating Poppy’s district partner could only hurt things between them. Well then, I guess it’s worth a try.
Sliding open the door, Ellery shot Merrit a fake smile. “Sleep well?” he asked. He didn’t really care, but it was important to pretend. “Not that you need it. You know, I met a few more tributes since I last saw you-- and I can honestly say that you stand the best chance at winning this thing. At least, in my opinion.”
Tired and confused, Ellery stumbled out of the train car where he had met Poppy. He had told the girl he needed to sleep, but this wasn’t entirely true. The past few nights had given Ellery such little rest, in fact, that he was unsure if he would ever be able to sleep again. The train, the tributes, the Games-- they all pulled tighter on Ellery’s strings until his body had become nothing more than a jumbled cluster of jittery nerves.
Shit, he thought. The Peacekeeper from the previous car was following behind him, likely to ensure that he returned to the right compartment. Or maybe I’m just fucking paranoid. That’s it.
Poppy hadn’t helped matters, either. The performative rituals of small talk came naturally to Ellery-- he could do them in his sleep. Even though he was running on empty, it had been easy enough to squirm his way into the good graces of a few tributes. Zephyr or Fort, thought Ellery. Those are my two best bets to make it out of this alive. But Poppy-- well, she was the complicating factor. Ellery could flatter Zephyr and flirt with Fort all day, but it wouldn’t change the fact that he actually cared about Poppy.
But why? he wondered. What advantage would she possibly provide me?
Before he could ponder the question, Ellery found himself standing at the door of the District 2 suite. He fumbled in his pocket a bit, feeling around for the keycard to validate his entry. When the door eventually clicked open, Ellery was greeted by darkness.
Syren is gone?... Well, that’s probably for the best. Ellery found his district partner intimidating and mysterious-- frankly, he preferred to be alone. The bed beckoned to him, and Ellery collapsed on it. He wondered how soon the train would arrive in the Capitol. It was too dark outside to tell, but they had to be nearing it. I’ve ridden this train so many times, but never like this. Ellery’s trips to the Capitol had always been exciting-- he could vividly remember his first visit as a child; the metallic shine of the city rising up from the surrounding mountains and inspiring a dread-tinged awe in the boy. Now, the awe was gone. It was just dread.
Ellery wondered what his father was doing. While Decimus had spoken of his intention to fix the odds, he hadn’t exactly laid out a blueprint for his son. Without a detailed plan, Ellery kept waiting for the moment when his father would swoop in and save the day-- when some monocled Capitol valet would emerge from thin air, offering Ellery his greatest condolences for what had transpired. Perhaps Coin would show up herself, groveling for forgiveness at the Andesines’ feet. “My sincerest apologies,” she would say. “We mixed up our paperwork, obviously. I would sooner give up my office than allow an Andesine into that bloodbath.” Ellery smiled. If only, he thought.
Gazing through the window, Ellery could just make out the light of a few distant stars. Fuck it. He pulled a small pouch out of a nearby drawer, attaching a plastic cord and a needle. It was morphling-- Ellery had smuggled a single dose of the stuff on the train. Ideally, he was hoping to shoot up the night before the Quell to take the edge off. But here he was-- shaking, sleepless, and scared. Before he could tell himself no, the needle had already punctured his skin. The tension faded away, replaced with a warm contentment. Ellery’s gaze returned to the stars.
He wrote a poem that night. In the liminal space between awareness and slumber, Ellery had visions. He saw his mother, screaming as she was dragged out of his life. He saw himself, bleeding out in some carefully designed arena. He saw Poppy and Merrit, winning the Games and standing over his bloated corpse. Most importantly, though, he saw a line which split off in two distinct directions. One end was plated with gold, spiraling upwards toward the clouds. The other dripped with bile and descended into the abyss. Rocketing forward with the metallic rush of the train, Ellery understood where he was headed. His poem seemed to reflect this understanding:
I loved her then, I love her still--
My heart a blossomed daffodil.
Yet Time, the wilter, did decree
the end of my prosperity. I’m
pushed against the ripest skin
& asked to press my finger in--
Caressing all my woes, my joints
will sink into that pulp--
The points and lines of ink I spilled
all swallowed in one gulp; the gulf
between my thoughts and feelings
seems much deeper than before--
That is to say, in sleep,
I dream of dying more and more.
“Did he now!” Poppy was clearly delighted. That did sound like Merrit at a party. Gender didn’t stop his flirting, though she had never thought to ask how serious those feelings may be. Poor Ellery. The thought of the look on his face after being kissed made her want to laugh, but it might not be so fun for him. It also stirred another feeling that, quite frankly, Poppy didn’t want to give voice to. She was being ridiculous, and… “Wait, a ghost?“ He was just going to glide over that?!
Poppy thought she couldn’t stop smiling, but the Quell was brought up again. She didn’t blame Ellery. That’s probably what the entire train ride was for–strategizing. Unless the Capitol just wanted them to all get to know one another as people before they were sent to the arena. If Merrit was even planning to pair with her, Poppy and Merrit winning would mean Ellery losing. Poppy bit her lip. She didn’t want that either! She didn’t have close friends back in Five. It was like she was missing her only chance. Here, she’d met someone she felt like she could talk to for an entire lifetime and there would still always be more to say. Their time together was so achingly short.
“We should all eat lunch together!“ Poppy said desperately. “Or even just you and me.” Without realizing it, her hand had shot out to grab Ellery’s. As if that flimsy tether would suddenly stop their fate. She wasn’t sure at all how the Tribute Center worked. But training so hard, surely the tributes must eat some kind of meal together. Poppy could still have friends. Maybe. Well, at the least, she didn’t want tonight to be the end of that time.
Ellery’s face flushed as the girl grabbed his hand. He wasn’t sure why... it isn’t like that, he thought. At least, he didn’t think so. Maybe he was just tired.
“Yeah, a ghost!” said Ellery, trying to distract himself. “I don’t even believe in that stuff, but it felt pretty authentic.” He thought about confessing his ventriloquist skills to Poppy, but decided against it. If Merrit found out... well, the jig would be up. Even so, Ellery felt guilty lying to her. Deception was commonplace in the Capitol and the business world, but something about the girl’s eyes threw Ellery off balance. He knew it was foolish, but he felt like she could tell what was real and what was fake.
“Anyway,” he said, “I think I’ll take you up on that lunch offer. At the speed this train is going, we still have a day or so before we reach the Capitol. Better soak it all in before we get there... our last few hours of freedom.” He looked out the window between the train cars and noticed a Peacekeeper making his rounds. “Well, relative freedom.” Ellery laughed. The blush was gone-- he still wasn’t sure what had caused it in the first place. He had nothing to gain from Poppy; no reason to flirt with her or use her. The warm feeling she gave him was entirely unfamiliar, and he didn’t like it. I need some sleep, he thought.
Ellery pulled his hand away from Poppy’s and gave her a quick hug. “It’s getting late,” he said. “I think I’ll head back to bed... it’ll be another long day of pleasantries tomorrow.” As he left, he wasn’t sure whether to bow to the girl or do something else. Unable to make up his mind, he stood at the door for an uncomfortable stretch of time. “Uh... goodnight,” said Ellery. “And good luck.”
Fort felt Ellery move in closer to him in the pitch black, and inched his hand up and across the boy’s back until he was holding Ellery’s shoulder. They stood there for a beat of silence in the pressing darkness. “But there wasn’t a crash. We’d have heard a crash if it crashed?” Fort knew what he meant – his brain had sobered up in the chaos, his body just wasn’t cooperating with it. “It just stopped.”
The emergency lighting flickered on, casting an uneasy and peculiar orange glow on the carriage, which seemed to make vision possible by deepening the shadows rather than by casting light. “I feel like I’m tripping. Badly.” In the hazy light Fort could see Ellery reaching up to where his hand rested on the boy’s shoulder, and caught his eye. “Yeah - you’ll have to teach me some time.”
Gunfire and shouting erupted outside the window, and Fort pulled his hand away from Ellery’s shoulder and stepped towards the window, checking for any cracks in the shutters. “What the fuck is going on out there? Tell me I didn’t just take something weird. That’s actually happening right?”
It wasn’t a crash? Ellery was so accustomed to things running smoothly that he assumed the entire train had derailed. Fort was right, though-- they had seemingly just stopped (albeit, very aggressively).
As much as he liked being held by the boy, Ellery was more curious as to what was transpiring outside. He walked over to the window with Fort, spying a small crack in the shutter. Ellery pressed his eye against it-- he could barely see, but he was able to make out a few hazy shapes beyond the train. Rebels, maybe? Whoever they were, they were heavily armed-- Ellery could hear the gunfire. For a moment, he considered if his father had sent a private security squad to bust him out of the train. If only, he thought. Decimus had resources, but nothing like that.
Just as he was getting a clearer view, a bullet smashed through the window at the end of the dining car. Ellery looked up at Fort for direction.
“We should, uh... get out of here, right?”
Of course we should, thought Ellery. It was a test-- he wanted to play the damsel in distress to see if Fort would play his savior. In a sense, he was auditioning Fort for the role of his partner. Ellery shot the boy some puppy dog eyes and waited for his instruction.
“I didn’t know gray flowers even existed,“ Poppy snorted. She laughed along with Ellery before catching herself quickly, and covered her mouth with the tips of her fingers “That was rude of me.“
She shouldn’t care. She knew that. It was because of President Coin that all but two of the people on this train would die. Why she had to fight for her life. Pointing out their leader’s penchant for drab fashion was nothing in terms of revenge. But… Poppy wasn’t used to talking like this. She supposed she would have to get used to being much more brutal yet.
“District Five doesn’t have much for me.“ She admitted. “I was too weak for a path as a Career. Never wanted to either. So I have to work in a power plant and I hate it.“
Poppy tilted her head inquisitively at Ellery’s hesitation. Maybe they didn’t like each other? Merrit could go overboard in a party environment. Which she guess this qualified as. But maybe she could expand a bit on the situation, make Merrit less… curious. “Merrit is quite the character, yes! His schoolmates even had a nickname for him: the Jester. He’s my older sister’s age, and they’ve always been extremely close. I’ve practically grown up with him.”
The Jester... thought Ellery. Makes sense. He hadn’t been sure whether Merrit’s wild behavior was due to his drunkenness or his natural temperament. Either way, Poppy had vouched for his character and she seemed to know him well. Ellery was still scared of Merrit-- terrified, even-- but he decided to hide these feelings in front of his new friend. Better to play it off like a joke, he thought.
“Quite the character indeed,” Ellery replied with a slight laugh. “So much happened in the short time we spoke-- he kissed me, for one! And then a ghost showed up and told him he only had a week to live. Strange stuff.”
A brief wave of melancholy washed over Ellery as he glanced at the girl. They were similar in so many ways-- looks, abilities, interests. We both have the same strategy, he thought. Partner up with someone stronger who can protect us. For Poppy, that likely meant Merrit. For Ellery... well, he wasn’t quite sure. The only thing he knew was that he and Poppy would be a losing ticket in the Games. They would partner with different people, and one of them would die. He had made a new friend, but he would lose her just as quickly.
“I’m assuming you intend to pair with him for the Quell?” asked Ellery. “You should. He’s probably your best chance to win.”
His voice came to her from somewhere far off in the distance. Much too far for her to be able to reach out and grab it, but she tried regardless, reaching her hands out in front of her, clutching the air with her fists and–
Her eyes shot open.
“How long was I asleep?” She asked, her voice groggy.
She shot up from the sofa that she had draped herself across while she slept, narrowly avoiding stepping on the wine glass she must have dropped while she slept. Her eyes darted around until they glanced over Zephyr and fell on the other boy who had accompanied him.
“Zephyr, who is this?” She asked, a grin spreading across her face as she waltzed over to him. “Have you made a new friend?”
She perhaps got a little too close to the new boy, but any invasion of space she was partaking in she wasn’t aware of.
“What’s your name?”
Ellery looked the girl up and down, trying to get a sense of how she would fit into his new dynamic with Zephyr. From her attitude, she seemed a bit more manic than her district partner-- still, they shared a similar sort of quirk. Ellery wondered if everyone in District 6 possessed the same eccentricities.
“Ellery Andesine,” he replied. “District 2. I was lucky enough to meet Zephyr a few cars back, and well... I believe our visions are very much in alignment.” He smiled at Zephyr, putting his arm around Dahlia’s shoulder in the cordial way that rich people often did. “Suffice it to say, I was so impressed by him that I figured I should meet you, too.”
Zephyr had recommended that Ellery avoid the topic of the Games. He wasn’t sure why, but he was willing to humor his new friend. Even so, it was still important to assess where Dahlia stood in the grander scheme of things.
“So, Dahlia,” said Ellery. “What’s your play? What do you expect to find when you leave this train?”
Fort’s head swam as he clambered uncoordinatedly to his feet, dazed and confused. His chair had toppled over, but other than the pre-existing tipsiness and a deep sadness that his pastries were all over the floor he was unharmed. He straightened up and looked around the carriage. Ellery appeared to be communicating with the Avox, and removed his shirt to stop the wound from which she was bleeding slightly. He moved over to them cautiously through the mess on the floor, taking extra care not to slip and fall onto the glass crunching underfoot. He offered a hand to Ellery to help him stand.
“Fine.” He muttered. “Where did you learn to communicate with Avoxes that way?” He looked down at the Avox, her eyes closed and breathing deeply, but seemingly more from shock than from pain.
“What happened?” He turned to look towards the window – it was darkening quickly but in the faint glow of the sunset he could make out figures moving around in the undergrowth bordering the train tracks. Before he could get a closer look, however, the shutters snapped shut, leaving the carriage in an impenetrable darkness. His hand tightened around Ellery’s forearm.
Ellery didn’t believe in any gods, but he offered a silent prayer to whomever had willed the train shutters to close. Not only had it gotten Fort to touch him-- the darkness of the carriage also hid Ellery’s blushing face from view. He feigned shock, leaning into the boy for support. Despite their predicament, he was having fun.
“Uh... not sure,” stammered Ellery. He had missed the figures in the window while tending to the Avox. “I can tell you this much, though... that was my first train crash. And I ride a lot of trains.” He wondered what could’ve caused the accident-- an electric malfunction, perhaps? I’ll have to tell Zephyr, thought Ellery. District 6 really fucked up with this one.
“Oh, and the Avox thing... it’s called sign language. I could teach you, if you want. You talk with your hands instead of your tongue.”
“Really?” Savanna asked before she could check herself. “Last I checked someone’s title wasn’t a one size fit all.” Part of her hated she could get so worked up over someone insulting the father she hadn’t seen in well over a year. The same man that thought it was a great idea to leave her with her uncle at ten years old. “If it matters to you, he’s in administration and you try to change a broken system.” Coin was no different than Snow in that aspect from what Savanna could tell.
Savanna took a breath. “Coin had a lot of use for her soldiers when the rebellion was all the rage, but threw them to the wolves once she got what she wanted.” There hadn’t been many options for her father. Even though she was young last they lived together, she still was aware of the nightmares that plagued her father from the war. “Soldiers that lost everything. District Twelve was burnt to the ground killing thousands. They lost their families, their siblings, brothers, sisters, dads, moms, and their home. They trained them as soldiers, to fight, and then denied them all other opportunities other than a military line of work or starve.” Walk away she told herself. Walk away.
“I am sure you’ve never known the pangs of hunger, but imagine going home every day and listening to your baby cry with hunger. You’d take the only job you could get too. Better to sacrifice yourself and your morals than your children.” But wasn’t that what Panem was still doing? Sacrificing it’s children?
Ah, thought Ellery. Administration. So he was the one who signed her sentence... not the one who tied her noose. He shrugged. Same thing.
Ellery was angry, but not at Savanna-- in truth, he was a bit confused by her dramatic reaction. He hadn’t imagined a girl from 12 enthusiastically licking the Peacekeepers’ boots. Mostly, he was offended by her assumption that he would “take the only job he could get.”
“Even if I were starving, I couldn’t imagine becoming a Peacekeeper.” Ellery squinted at the girl. “There’s this thing called morality-- you know, principles and such? It’s why I’ve decided not to kill, even as a tribute. I would sooner die than bend over for Coin.” He felt his temperature rise, but continued nonetheless. “I don’t claim to know your father, and I don’t really care. I’m sure he was nice to you and all. But he’s a cog in a corrupt machine-- an evil machine.” He smiled. “Anyway, lovely meeting you.”
It wasn’t until Ellery left the train car that he realized his true hatred for the girl. He could tolerate Capitol citizens... they supported their government without knowing any better. Ignorance is bliss, they say. Savanna, though? There was no excuse for a district person to take her stance. She’s lucky I’m a pacifist, thought Ellery. If not, I would have a dagger through her heart.
“In name, perhaps.” Savanna told him. The name vaguely rung a bell but it was likely something that came up in passing when her mom rambled on in the way she often did. Sometimes Savanna felt like she knew more about what went on in District Two than her family’s lives because District Two was easier to talk than her absence in their lives.
Savanna did her best to keep from rolling her eyes, because of course someone like him wouldn’t bother with people like he assumed her parents were. “You probably haven’t met them, they’re considerably younger than myself.” Thankfully, Savanna thought because it meant they weren’t eligible for the Reaping. “I always thought it was ironic my father joined the Peacekeepers in Two after the Rebellion. Then again, sometimes we find comfort in seeking solace in something that probably isn’t healthy.” The Rebellion had cost her father something he didn’t talk about, but Savanna could take a few guess as to what.
“Oh, your father is a Peacekeeper?” Ellery laughed awkwardly. “I wonder if he was the one who kicked me in the ribs on Reaping Day. Or maybe he was the one who killed my mother.”
He regretted the statement as soon as he had uttered it-- it was foolish, of course. There were thousands of troops in District 2, so the odds that he had ever met Savanna’s father were slim. Even so, every Peacekeeper was a bastard in Ellery’s eyes. The terror they inflicted on the districts... the terror they inflicted on him-- Panem’s military was a distillation of the country’s brutal might. Why anyone would voluntarily join such a force was beyond Ellery. He was comforted that Savanna had called the occupation “unhealthy”-- he couldn’t agree more.
Zephyr gave Ellery a gratuitous smile, grateful that he had the opportunity to speak about Dahlia before formerly introducing her. He, of course, had full faith in Dahlia’s temperament, but given the direction of this conversation, he knew he must approach it delicately.
“Ah, yes. The great Dahlia Sol.” He bowed his head out of respect. “She comes from a very powerful family, you know. Our parents had often had business together, so I know her rather well.”
Zephyr’s eyes flickered to the boy, watching carefully to see how he took each new piece of information.
“We’re well-acquainted. She prefers not to stand in crowds such as these so I sent her straight to our tribute quarters. Dahlia is of a…” He gave a soft chuckle. “Delicate disposition - she doesn’t take very well to new people– but I am sure she would like you.”
He held out a hand towards the nearest door.
“I could introduce you to her now, if you’d like.”
“Certainly,” replied Ellery. He walked to the door, holding it open for Zephyr. “After you.”
Zephyr’s response had been quite vague-- Ellery was still unsure whether the boy planned on partnering with Dahlia. No matter, he thought. There’s still plenty of time.
Fort’s brow creased as Ellery spoke. It wasn’t the answer he’d expected, and he hadn’t thought of Ellery as a party animal particularly. He struck Fort as the kind of rich kid who filled their time by being better than rich kids like him, though he’d never been especially good at reading people.
He shrugged and held his ground as Ellery leaned into him, their noses almost touching. Fort could feel his breath on his face as he whispered, tickling his nose, and Ellery’s gaze was actively boring into Fort. He gave a small smile and laughed lightly.
“I don’t know, Ellery, what do you think motivated me? You seem like a pretty astute guy.” He paused for a beat of silence right in Ellery’s face, breathed out and then leaned back into his chair, crossing his leg in front of him as a barrier to Ellery. If he wanted more he’d have to come and get it.
“I guess I was pretty excited by the idea of glory at the start,” he began. “But then…” He paused and raised the bottle of water to his lips, shrugging dispassionately. “I guess it lost its lustre. The last couple years I’ve just been doing it because it was something to do.”
“How about you? Is violence not your thing?” He put down the bottle of water and signalled to the avox in the carriage for something stronger. He’d sobered up enough for his liking.
Before Ellery could respond, the entire train jolted to a crashing halt. Plates of food were flung in every direction, and the Avox who was bringing Fort a drink had been bludgeoned by a collapsed ceiling rail. Regaining his footing, Ellery rushed to the Avox’s side as the lights sputtered in and out of life.
He offered the girl his hand, pulling her up from the floor and helping her to a nearby seat. Her uniform had been punctured by the rail-- a small trickle of blood spreading out from below her ribs. It’ll be okay, signed Ellery. He needed something to stop the bleeding... but the tablecloth was covered in glass, and the napkins were all too small. With no other options, he tore off his shirt and tied it around the Avox’s waist. There, he signed. Just apply some pressure.
Looking down at the girl, Ellery felt a tinge of regret. The shirt was corduroy-- straight from the Capitol, and one of his most expensive. Oh well, he thought. Lives are more important than fashion. The Avox signed her gratitude to Ellery, and he turned around to check on Fort. The boy was strong, and Ellery hadn’t seen him get hit by anything. Still, it was important to check.
August heard his joke, but she was stuck on Ellery’s comment, confusion painted across her face. “How do you cook without butter?” The idea of someone choosing not to eat animals wasn’t entirely foreign to her, but it was more of a joke in her district rather than a genuine lifestyle choice. She wasn’t even sure it would be possible to avoid things made from animals back home.
“You don’t have to feel bad ‘bout the animals,” August explained as they reached the catering car. She stopped at the door, motioning for him to go in before her. “That’s what the animals are for. It’s real sad they die and all, but that’s what they were put here for.”
They entered the dining car, and Ellery struggled to keep his eyes from rolling into the back of his head. To think that the purpose of life is death, he mentally scoffed. Not even that-- to think that there’s any purpose at all! He stifled a laugh. “Funny, isn’t it?” he asked August. “You could say the same thing about us tributes-- it’s real sad that we die and all, but that’s what we’re put here for.”
Ellery didn’t bear any ill will towards the girl, but her unpolished mind was quite problematic. She was boring, but he didn’t want to be rude. “Thanks for showing me to the food,” said Ellery, grabbing a bowl of oats from a platter. He sat down and opened his book, hoping that August would leave if he simply ignored her long enough.
Zephyr grinned as the boy’s hand touched his shoulder, allowing the boy to steer him towards the corner of the carriage. He trusted Ellery, mainly because Ellery seemed to trust him. His brow furrowed as he listened to the boy, nodding his head knowingly before meeting Ellery’s smile with one of his own.
“The Games are dangerous for us, but they’re also a chance for us to prove ourselves.” Zephyr leaned closer, lowering his voice so no one else would hear. “My father says he can… influence the odds a little, if push comes to shove. The Capitol are very generous when it comes to their own kind.”
He moved back, surveying the boy carefully.
“I like you, too.” Zephyr once again imitated the boys pompous tone. “People of our pedigree must stick together in a place like this.”
A look of understanding dawned on Ellery’s face as he realized that he shared a strategy with Zephyr: both of their fathers would attempt to influence the Games. He wasn’t altogether surprised-- Ellery knew how the wealthy thought, and cheating was usually how they remained at the top. Still, he couldn’t help but be bothered by the news. There could only be two victors, after all, and it was impossible to know if the Capitol would prefer Decimus’s bribe over that of Zephyr’s father. Ellery held in a sigh. The addition of money always complicated a problem.
Wait, he thought. That’s it-- two victors! Ellery had been planning on pairing with a career; someone strong who could kill for him and get him through the Games alive... but perhaps that strategy was wrong. With the pooling of their shared influence, Ellery was likely much safer with Zephyr than he was with some mindless hunk. It was far too soon to outright ask the boy for his partnership, but Ellery couldn’t stop thinking of their future together. Before he could make a move, though, there was one more thing he needed to know...
“Say,” said Ellery, “I’ve heard a lot about your district partner-- Dahlia, right? I haven’t met her myself, but she seems wonderful. Are you two friends, or... what? I’d love to meet her.”
