Twyla walks around the training building lost of course because she has no idea where haymitch is and honestly she doesn't exactly mind losing him at the moment. She walks around just trying to figure out where she is and honestly kinda still thinking about the reaping. She accidentally ran into someone not exactly playing attention to what she's going really. "Oh sorry Um I guess I'm lost or something?" She's nervous and she looks at them and gives them a nervous smile she thinking maybe that will help her case if she gets in trouble
Silver was already in game mode. He wasn't as charming or likable as his brother, and he knew that, but that didn't stop him from talking to potential sponsors and other tributes looking for help, allies, targets, or maybe a mixture of all three.
He had just finished a conversation with a potential sponsor when someone bumped into him. He turned around only to be met with Twelve's girl. He tried to remember her Reaping, and it was actually a struggle for him; must not have been anything special. Certainly not as memorable as Katniss' the year before.
Then, that nervous smile. There was no point in making enemies yet, but at least he could tell some easy prey when he saw it.
Might be best to let her live until last to assure victory.
He put on a smile as he shook his head. "It's alright, where are you trying to go?" he asked.
"Incredible training for the games and yet it's been what... eight years since One has won?" She raised a brow. He'd have to do one better to make her believe that he was the next victor. She raised her coffee, taking a sip of it as she contemplated his next words.
"A longsword and weapons, sure. But if they're not there? Or if the weapons are not your typical weaponry?" She hummed slightly, sitting her coffee back down. She knew exactly what would be in the arena, but couldn't give away anything. "What if it does come down to survival? Can't survive if you don't have survival skills."
"Which means it's long overdue, right?" he countered with a small shrug and a smile. "Sounds like the odds are in my favor." He was trying to be confident and charming, since he found that those were the types sponsors seemed to like, but he wasn't sure he was pulling it off.
He hoped for the best.
Then, she asked a series of questions trying to doubt his winning capabilities. His eyes narrowed the slightest bit before going back to normal, again, trying to not be confrontational; she was probably trying to see how he would crack under pressure.
Not this time.
"Well, I'll answer those in order," he said with a small chuckle. "If they're not there, my hand to hand is still pretty strong. If they're weird or exotic weapons, I'm still not worried; I'm a smart guy, I learn fast. And as for survival, we have those classes in One as well. Maybe I was a little young with those, but I still know how to wrap a bandage and to avoid nightlock. Sure, I'll be working at those stations more when we start training since I'm already the best with a sword, but that doesn't mean I'm completely unprepared."
He took a sip of his drink, satisfied with his answers, hoping she was too.
"And you as well, Silver." She agreed. It was nice to meet him, sure, how long she would know him was another story however. She only hoped that he had the skills needed to survive in the arena as it had been created. Being from One, he should, but who knew.
The thoughts were pushed from her mind though as she gave a small nod. "It is." She agreed. "But so are skills. What makes you so sure you can win?" She asked as she moved away to a standing table, nodding her head for him to follow her if he wanted. She may not have been thrilled to be faced with him, but he was proving to be a much needed break from everything else in her mind.
He wasn't going into this conversation thinking it would be a bit of an interrogation, but honestly, if it got him some practice talking to Capitol people before his big interview with Caesar? Sign him the fuck up.
He nodded in thanks before sitting down after her. "Well, as you know, One does some incredible training for the games," he started, intentionally not mentioning any names of his teachers; they didn't believe in him anyway, why should they get credit? "So I'm pretty well versed in every weapon you could imagine, but the longsword? That's where I shine."
He interlocked his fingers n front of him on the table before continuing. "And I know it's a game of survival, for sure, but when it gets down to two or three tributes left, who usually takes home the prize? The one who's able to land the final blows. And I'm very good at that."
It was while Cashmere sat there on that stage, lips pursed, hands folded neatly in her lap, ankles crossed, that she decided the boy was out of his damned mind. She wouldn't let it show on her face, not past the look she shared with her brother for a split second before her expression returned to blank and her gaze to the cameras.
It'd been in the Justice Building that she and Gloss stole away to the hot upper level where they'd long since learned there were no cameras. Storage where whispers could be shared without Snow himself watching. They'd been heated whispers this time. Gloss had chosen the boy who was supposed to volunteer, written his name on a little slip of paper, just as every other victor in the district. There was no chance anyone but the chosen boy would be headed to the game. At least not until this little shit decided to steal the chance when it wasn't his chance to steal. But Gloss had been the one to choose within the Academy and so Cashmere had talked her brother down, told him she'd deal with Silver and come find him later.
So that was what she was doing. She'd made sure Gloss was on the other end of the train and then went in search of the boy. When she finally found him, she paused in the doorway of the train car before shutting it. Thankfully he was alone. It seemed the girl had made herself scarce. Cashmere would find her later.
"Are you out of your everliving, fucking mind?" She demanded. She might've talked Gloss down from killing the boy, but they fed off of one another, always feeling what the other felt. Twins were like that. And Gloss was still pissed. "What in the world were you thinking?" He had guts, she'd give him that. Everyone in One hated him now. No one would mourn him if he lost.
He knew the first question was rhetorical, so he waited for the inevitable follow up. When she asked, all of his planning went out the window. This was his mentor, one of the only people who was basically contractually obligated to help him. Maybe she wouldn't be rooting for him (she was from District 1 after all), but she wouldn't put her career as a mentor on the line just to screw him over.
Right?
So, he figured the best thing he could do in this moment is be honest.
"This... this wasn't a spur of the moment decision," he started, rubbing his hands together anxiously as he tried to balance between looking her in the eyes to show he was serious and looking at the floor for his own comfort. "I've been thinking it over ever since I was told I wasn't the choice, which... yeah, been about a year now."
He sighed before he continued. "You've met my teachers, ask any of them; no one can beat me if I get my hands on a longsword. Literally no one in that arena has a chance if I do. But... yeah, I'm fully aware there's no guarantee that I'll get one, but I'm not total shit at other weapons, like what's wrong with having a specialty? I was even better than Halcyon before he made it into the arena, and people still fucking loved him."
Halcyon's death was only during the 73rd games; she probably remembered him. Brilliant, charming, good at every weapon he got his hands on, but Silver at 16 could still beat him sparring, so didn't that say something about Silver? Shouldn't that have given him some credibility?
"I just... this was my last chance, alright? What was I going to do with my life if I didn't compete? All I know is how to be a warrior, and a fucking good one. And I hate kids, so teaching is off the table."
He took a step forward towards her and met her eyes and didn't let them go; he was going to make this point as clear as possible. "I will do everything possible to win. I'll do everything you tell me to do. I may be a warrior, but I've never gotten a chance to prove it and you did and came out the other side, so you know more than me. Fuck, I'll hang off of every word you say if it'll help you be more confident in my abilities, just..."
He trailed off as he took a seat in his chair before sighing again. His voice was quieter as he continued. "No one said goodbye to me. Not what few friends I have, not my parents, no one. So I know I'm ultimately alone in my belief in me, but... I hope maybe I have one mentor who's willing to give me their guidance. Because if I really am as unprepared as they said, well... my only shot is going to be listening to you guys and somehow getting sponsors to like me."
It was at that point that he looked up and waited for a response to his little monologue; he hoped his sincerity was showing.
Silver was pacing back and forth in the train car, trying to think of the words he was going to use to explain himself. He knew the first question out of his mentor's mouth would probably be "What the hell were you thinking?" so he was figuring out his exact answer.
"I did what was best for the District?" No, too arrogant. "I was thinking I could succeed where my brother failed?" Would that be seen as disrespectful to the dead? I mean, he did lose...
He didn't have more time to think before the door to the train car opened and his mentor entered.
"I'll be sure to pass your compliments on." Actually she wouldn't. She didn't even know who was responsible for the redesign and frankly, she couldn't care less to find out. That was the least of her worries.
Her gaze dropped to his dropped hand before flicking back up to him with a soft chuckle. He certainly was sure of himself, wasn't he? She moved her coffee from one hand to the other before taking his hand in her own and giving it a firm shake. "Persephone LeRoche." She introduced, though her name and face had been all over the Capitol tabloids for months and she was sure being from One, he knew exactly who she was. Surely that was why the pleasantries, cocky as they were, from the young man. "You're quite sure of yourself, aren't you?"
"Thank you," he said with a smirk and a small chuckle. His smile became a bit more genuine as she shook his hand, glad he seemed to not be making a terrible first impression; those were important, after all. "Nice to meet you." He considered saying "I know" to her introduction, but he decided against it; she was probably going to have tributes kissing her ass throughout the week, it might be refreshing for her to talk to someone who wasn't exclusively going to try to impress her; that in itself might be impressive? He was playing 4D chess, or at least trying to.
He then bit both lips to keep from laughing. "I am," he agreed with a nod. "That's important to win, right? A good attitude?"
He didn't think it would be a good idea to add what he was thinking; that someone had to be sure of him since no one else was.
Silver grunted as he shoved his opponent to the ground, the fight ending with his wooden longsword pointed at his opponent's throat.
The sound of the announcement starting played the second Silver was declared victorious, which did sting a little; he couldn't savor the moment at all with this distraction. He put his weapon back on the wrack before walking towards the screen to listen to the twist.
Silver wasn't really certain what kind of twist he was hoping for, but it wasn't this. This twist basically turned the drawing into more of a popularity contest than before, which was the opposite of what he wanted.
He wasn't a popular guy, he knew that; not with his teachers and certainly not with his fellow students. The past victors that were his teachers didn't seem to notice how much he had improved over the years, how easily he would dominate in the arena the second he got his hands on a longsword. He knew he wasn't as "versatile" as his brother was, but fuck, couldn't they see how much potential he had? How desperately he wanted to get into the arena to prove himself?
Apparently not.
Once the announcement was over, Silver basically pushed it out of his mind; the announcement did nothing to assure him that he was going to be able to get into the games.
It could have been anyone, she reasoned. Hell, it could've been Eddie, if luck was on her sign. She'd have gotten away with some teasing remark and been able to escape. But no, luck did not want to be on her side apparently as instead of anyone else, she was faced with a tribute. A tribute from One had better odds than say one from Twelve. Without knowing anything about him other than where he came from she could say his odds were at least either to one in his favor, probably more so. He'd volunteered afterall. Regardless, she didn't want to face any of them right now.
She cast a glance around at the brand new furnishings before offering the hint of a smile herself. "It is. It got a face lift for the Quell." She spoke. She was thankful she hadn't spilled any of the hot liquid on the young man.
Silver mirrored her action, looking around himself and once again taking in the surroundings. "The interior designers did a great job," he complimented with a small nod. "I don't know much about design or anything, but I know what looks nice, and this is it."
He turned back to her and held out his hand. "Silver Axelrod, District One," he introduced. "Future winner of the Quarter Quell." Cocky? Potentially. Did he believe it with his entire being? Absolutely.
Silver wasn't known for being nervous, but he did have an inkling of that feeling as he woke up the morning of the Reaping.
He knew what he was about to do, and he knew that it was practically batshit. What he was planning on doing was social suicide, but did he care? No... well, maybe a little, but it would all be worth it when he brought another victory to District One; they would all see.
He started getting dressed as the words of his teachers played in his head.
"You're not a killer, Silver."
"Yes, you're great with a longsword, but what are the odds you get one in the arena? Your skills aren't versatile enough."
"Stop trying to be your brother."
That last one had come from his mother and had probably stung the most.
His older brother, Halcyon, had been selected to be the male tribute of his 18th year. He was a weapons savant and everyone loved him; it was inevitable. He was the pride and joy of District One until he got his throat slit, solidifying him in second place of the 73rd Games. And everyone in One knows that second place is just first loser.
Silver wasn't going to lose.
He was heading out the door when his parents tried to stop him, asking why he was leaving so early.
"Just want to take a walk before the ceremony, is that a crime?" he snapped before shutting the door behind him and walking out to the open air.
He had his hands in his pockets as he walked, trying to clear his head of the doubt and concern about what he was going to do. He knew he was a better warrior than his teachers and parents gave him credit for. He was a killer. He could do this if only he was given a chance.
But if no one was going to give him his chance, he was going to fucking take it.
He got to the town square before most of the others did, actually able to watch some of the things get set up before the ceremony. He went to his spot, figuring he might as well be ready.
He waited as the rest of the kids trickled in, seeing the guy who had been selected to go into the games was cocky and excited as he sauntered to his spot. Silver's eyes narrowed as a slight scowl formed on his face. He tried to relax his face; jealousy could be interpreted as weakness, and today was the second to last day to show weakness.
Of course, the first was when he got into the Games itself.
The ceremony began, and there was a buzz of excitement throughout the crowd as the video played. Silver was too focused to cheer; if his timing was even a second off, he would lose his chance.
The female tribute was selected to thunderous applause. Then, the name of the male tribute didn't even fully leave the mouth of the escort before Silver's hand shot up and he shouted.
"I volunteer as tribute!"
The entire area went silent. The glares and sneers Silver was receiving were the loudest thing within a mile. Then, whispers started as he approached the stage. When he got a higher vantage point, he tried searching the crowd for a single friendly face, anyone who thought he could do this. All he ended up seeing were hardened expressions and two very particular looks of disappointment from his parents.
You'll see. You'll all see. I'm doing this.
He was escorted into a room to wait for his parents, his friends, anyone wanting to say goodbye before he left for the Captiol.
She hadn't slept very well the night before. The events she would be responsible for in the coming days... it'd been a year she'd had to prepare but it didn't make it any easier. And putting faces and names to the known twenty-four she'd known were going into that arena.
As such, she found herself in the lobby of the tower, hoping to avoid everyone in her search of a morning (or early afternoon, she wasn't sure) fix of caffeine in her assistant's absence. Shed nearly accomplished her mission and was ready to head back to the seclusion of her ivory tower, but as she turned to leave the barista's stand, she ran into someone else. "Oh! I'm so sorry." She said softly, quickly taking a step backwards.
Since District 1 was right next to the Capitol, it didn't take Silver long before he was in the promised land. The lights and the skyline were amazing, and seeing it in person only added the fuel to Silver's inner fire; he was going to win so he could call this place home.
Even with all the sights he was enjoying and all the excitement of actually being here running through him, he could still use a coffee. He had just gotten his when someone bumped into him.
Silver was usually quick to anger, but the woman already apologized, so it quickly dissipated; he wasn't unreasonable. Plus, he was glad he had held his tongue when he noticed who it was that bumped into him. Now was the perfect time to start making good impressions; he may have been the best warrior here, but that didn't mean sponsors and being liked by the Gamemakers meant nothing.
"It's alright," he said, trying to put on a charming smile, though it didn't quite meet his eyes. "It was probably my fault as well, I was sort of lost in thought. This building is honestly incredible."
