Chapter Text
Bloodbath: Alara
“Fuck me, you’re a complete mess-” Selica Vireaux hisses as she grabs Alara by the arm and drags her to a stool at the far corner of the studio, the less-than-hushed whispers of the camera crew following behind them. “Lucien!” She snaps her fingers at a uniformed assistant nearby who slides to her side without missing a beat - “Find a privacy screen, because apparently I’m running a studio full of overgrown children who can’t keep their eyes on their work!” The cascade of whispers stops abruptly as the nosier members of staff get the memo. Alara’s head is still spinning too much to speak when the assistant boy comes back with a folding room divider to spare the last of her dignity.
Selica lets out a long sigh, perching herself on the edge of the vanity and lighting a cigarette - “I see you’re dealing with this about as well as I’d expected.” Alara doesn’t say anything - she can feel how awful she must look after the unsightly crying fit she’d had on the way back from the landing platform. That doesn’t satisfy her cohost, because she follows up with another barb - “I expect these sorts of theatrics from Ismene, not from you. And frankly, Alara dear, it’s much less charming coming from you.” Nothing. Silence hangs in the air between them for a long moment and then - “So, what, we can look forward to an entire season of you moping around like one of my cats after a bath? Going to try and sob your way to sponsorships? Gods, tell me I’m not going to have to worry about you slitting your wrists on air when she dies or something-” That’s a step too far-
Alara swats, claws first - “Fuck off!” - and hits nothing but air as Selica side-steps mid-swing. Before she can lash out again, her co-host lunges forward and grabs both of her wrists. Part of her wants to fight. Part of her is too tired to even move. She settles on idle threats, instead - “You’re lucky I’m feeling under the weather today, or I would have bitten you for that.”
“There she is! Good! Keep that anger simmering - you’re going to need it tonight.” If she’s just baiting me in the hopes of drawing out some quality bickering, I’ll make sure she regrets it. Selica grabs a datapad from the vanity and tosses it into her lap. “Your itinerary and scripts, read them while you’re in styling. We don’t have a lot of time, so I need everyone on task today - Ismene! Stop lurking and come listen to this properly because I only want to say it once!” Ismene Lux steps around the privacy screen with a wave - Alara answers with a silent glare. As if it wasn’t enough to stalk me on my last night of peace, she has to do it today too?!
Selica starts talking louder before either can say something- “The bloodbath starts in exactly two hours and six minutes according to my watch, and we’ve got thirty minutes of scheduled airtime beforehand for the arena sneak peak. Now, I’m proud to say that we managed to get the lead weather engineer as our Guest Gamemaker this year! Quite a step up from the third-year trap designer they lent us last time. Oh! Yes, his name is -” she glances at her datapad - “- Commodus Creed. Alara, I know you usually handle this segment but given the state you’re in and how important it is that we make a good impression-”
“Don’t be stupid, I’m more than capable of-”
“Alara, quiet!” Selica snaps at her and she falls silent. She’s not worth my words today - she tries to soothe her bruised ego as her co-host drops another bomb on her - “I’m more concerned with how you’re going to handle the post-bloodbath segment about your controversial new fucktoy-”
“She’s not-” I haven’t thought of what to label you, officially, but nothing so crass!
“I don’t care what she is to you! It’s not my business! But you’ve made it public's - against my better judgement I might add - and now we’ve had to block off our entire closing segment for a response!” Selica types something into her datapad and spins it around to show her - “‘Panem’s Prettiest Predator’ is a far more generous title than I’d have given you, Alara dear, but it seems the girl who wrote this is still carrying a poorly-repressed torch for you in spite of the critiques she’s laid out-”
Alara throws her hands up, gesturing wildly - “Carrying a torch?! The woman called me a predator! And did you know that she accosted us before the interviews last night?!”
Selica shakes her head - “I think we all saw you assault her-”
“Assault!?” Has no one heard of self-defense in this day and age?!
“Focus!” Selica swoops in so close that the spit from her shout spatters Alara’s cheek - “I’m going to assume from your questioning that you have no memory at all of this girl?”
Should I!? Alara tries to remember the woman’s face from last night - Nothing. Her voice - Not a clue. Her style - Barely distinctive. Ismene giggles from somewhere over her shoulder and she whips around -“What is so fucking funny about this to you?!”
Ismene smiles and drawls - “Oh, nothing really. I was just wondering if you remembered any of the interns we had during the 57th-”
I don’t have time for this - “You can’t reasonably expect me to remember every single-”
Without waiting for Alara to finish, she interrupts - “I thought you’d at least remember the one you slept with.”
Nothing about the woman’s face, or voice, or style had stood out to her at all. But something about what Ismene says drags a memory to the surface. One of herself, standing in front of a pathetic, sobbing, half-dressed intern girl and saying - ‘Tearful confessions aside, it doesn’t change the fact that I’m finished with you. Oh, please - It’s not that I dislike you, darling, but you have to admit you make for dull company.’ The girl had run out, and hadn’t bothered to show back up for work again after. Useless flake, of course she wound up working at the Inquirer. “Oh yes. That one.”
Selica rolls her eyes - “Glad you’re all caught up.” She flips her attention back to the datapad - “We’ll be introducing Ms. Finch just before the Bloodbath coverage begins as a guest commentator, and she’ll stay through the remainder of the show to act as the voice of opposition to your relationship.”
“Great! Thank you so much, darling, this is just what I needed today!” Alara can feel the accent slip off her voice, replaced with a thick layer of sarcasm - “I can’t believe you’re leaving me to defend myself alone on this! How am I supposed to-”
Selica cuts her off, clearly beyond annoyed judging by the second cigarette she lights off of her first- “Please! Spare me the whining! Your most ardent defender is already over here planning her rebuttals.” Oh for fucks sake-
A cold, clammy set of arms thread themselves around the back of her shoulders and Ismene presses a cheek against her own - “Oh, Alara, I’m so excited! We get to be on the same side for once!”
“If we could all get back on track!” Selica narrows her eyes at something behind Alara and shakes her head. “I suppose I’ll have to trust you to read the rest, I think your stylists have arrived…”
In the hour she spends in styling, Alara doesn’t read a single line of text from the thirty page itinerary Selica leaves behind. At first, she’s too busy brooding about a bitter fling coming back to haunt her at her most vulnerable - and having no one but Ismene in my corner, gods help me - to get much done. Then, it’s the thoughts of her girl that plague her - I wonder if you’ve arrived yet? No, you’d still be in the air, I think. I can’t recall spending too long in the tombs before they turned us loose. Despite knowing it must look different now, she can’t help but imagine Voltaea standing in the same dimly-lit room that she had twenty-four years ago, with the same screechy metal elevator hauling her up to her d- not her death. Her victory. Just like mine. By the time she’s prepped for filming - complete with a knee-length dress colored with a spread of blues and aqua-greens in patterns that seem to flow and swirl over the material like water. She voices her doubts about the color - the only thing she says at all during the process - but Selica insists it makes her look younger. I suppose if that’s the case…
Commodus Creed, their guest Gamemaker for the evening, arrives five minutes before showtime - dressed by his own stylists in a crisp, high-collared purple suit. His hair and well-manicured beard are dyed shining gold and covered in some kind of glitter that seems to constantly shed all over the collar and shoulders of his suit. Selica barely has time to arrange him in an armchair before the stage director is giving the signal that they’re one minute from going live. A thousand anxious snakes wriggle in her gut - Alara slams her eyes shut and takes a last, steeling breath before she has to put her public face on - Just survive, my love. I’ll take care of everything out here.
Selica is out of breath by the time she finishes her opening spiel, apologizing for how noticeable it is to the cameras. “The chain smoking might have something to do with that, darling.” - Alara tries to distract the darker edge of her thoughts by sniping at her co-host. It works, to a small extent.
With a well-practiced eye-roll, she turns to the cameras and simply remarks - “Our viewers at home know how often I have to deal with you, Alara dear. I’m sure they don’t fault me for what I do to cope.” A wink - An artificial cheer played by the sound team - It’s showtime, we’re in peak form, I usually thrive on this! Damnit, I should have dosed again-
She doesn’t have long to dwell in her regrets before Selica announces their guest and segues to Alara’s yearly moment to shine - I mean, I always shine, but it’s so rare I have an opportunity these days to let my intellect star over my good looks. Put your game face on, Alara. Can’t let them think I’ve lost my edge. While her co-host gets the dull, brown-nosing questions about Commodus’ qualifications out of the way and Ismene fawns over his shimmering dye-job, Alara racks her brain for some way to get some kind of useful information for her girl. It’s the only thing she can cling to that makes her feel useful in the face of the gnawing, aching, dread building in her chest. Though, even if I can get something useful… it’s not as if I have a way to tell you. - Feeling the ache growing again, she tries to end that hateful thought on a more optimistic note - Not directly, anyway. I’m sure I can find a clever workaround.
There’s not long left now. You must be terrified. Gods, you poor thing, if I could have stopped it… - As soon as Selica hands Alara the floor for questions, she pounces on the man with an entire flurry fueled by pure anxiety - “What sorts of environmental hazards are we looking at in this arena? Is the mutt roster more or less diverse than last year’s? Speaking of last year, have you improved the network reliability that was holding up our camera feeds? Any new gimmicks to be aware of? Location? Weather? Traps?”
“Well to start us off - you’ll be glad to know that the broadcast network was tested at dawn and is working like an absolute dream. I’d bet my left arm you won’t see a single outage this year.” Commodus laughs. Just the left? I saw him sign in with his right, the coward. Alara isn’t impressed by his bravado, scowling and motioning for him to continue - “As far as hazards, we’ve obviously done some extensive R&D on our trap systems in the off-season. I don’t want to give away too much, of course, but I’m proud to say we’ve finally nailed that acid launcher that misfired the last few times it made an appearance - I know you had a lot to say about it at the time, Alara-”
Alara nods - “I live for a creative face-melting, but all they managed to do with it - after they sent that boy to play up the potential of the device on our show, I might add - was liquefy a rabbit and that one girl’s boots. I was more than a little disappointed, and given the lofty promises-”
Commodus interrupts her - On my own broadcast! - “All of which I can assure you will be met and more with this new model.” Selica shoots a venomous glare in Alara’s direction before she can disrupt the broadcast to chastise the man - We are on a time crunch, I suppose. “I think the rest of your questions are best answered with a visual aid - Selica?”
With a snap, her co-host signals for the crew to change the feed on the screen behind them from their idle background to… - What exactly am I looking at here? Alara squints at the image on a smaller screen positioned just off-camera - Nothing. Just blackness. “So much for that network reliability you were bragging about, it looks like the feed is already dead.”
“What are those lights off in the distance?” Ismene leans forward and chimes in with a more productive question before Commodus can respond to Alara’s taunting. I’d hoped you were wrong, but… - she can see several, tiny lights in the distance flickering against the darkness and growing brighter by the second. A red one blinking in rhythm near the top right, a bright white solid one near the bottom left, a soft yellow glow at the center - a few others pop into view as they seem to draw closer to… whatever we’re looking at. Fuck, I hope they’re not planning to have us staring at a near-blank screen the whole time! Being away from her girl has wrecked her enough - I can’t bear the thought of not seeing that face…
The gamemaker’s booming voice rips her back to reality - “I’m glad you asked! What you’re looking at here are some of the only sources of light our tributes might encounter for the rest of their lives -” Alara blinks a few times, chasing off the sudden image of Voltaea lying lifeless and alone with nothing around her but darkness - Not productive right now, back to work! Commodus produces a sheet of silvery paper from his suit pocket and unfolds it - an official statement. She can’t help but roll her eyes - It was more fun when they let them try to justify their deathtraps off the cuff. I miss those days. “To mark the 60th anniversary of the Capitol so graciously ending the rebellion that killed so many -” Graciously my glorious ass - “We wanted to create an arena that truly stood as a reminder to everyone of just how dark the Dark Days could be-” Don’t tell me this is some attempt to make a clever historical reference - “With that in mind, we set to work finding some way to block the sun throughout the whole arena. I’m proud to say that it was my department who cracked the secret to eternal night - no small feat given that we had to allow hovercrafts to pass in and out without compromising the darkness field. Our tributes will definitely be feeling the humidity from the fog we’re using to-”
Something about the looming darkness on the screen and the way the man talks about it so flippantly when her girl is at risk in there sets her teeth on edge - “And just how the fuck are we supposed to see anything when it’s pitch black the entire time?!”
“Alara, language!” Selica chides her lightly, but the rage in her glare is unmistakable - don’t make this harder, keep calm.
“It’s fine, really, I promise I wouldn’t be here if I was easily offended -” The sound team fires off a laugh track as Commodus deftly steers the show back on topic - “But to answer your question seriously, we actually had to contribute a significant amount of this year's budget to overhauling the entire camera system. Expensive, but I think in future years it’ll give us a whole new perspective on the Games we’ve been sorely lacking during the overnight hours” He gestures to the studio staff like he owns them, Selica shooting a sideling sneer in his direction at the slight. Then, one feed splits to three simultaneously showing the same view. The first appears to be the same, too-dark broadcast as before. The second explodes with blobs of color; reds, yellows, blues, greens - infrared vision, he explains, where the warmer colors represent areas with warmer temperatures. The last feed seems to be an improved version of the night vision cameras they’ve had in years past. Rather than washing everything out in a muddled, ugly green - the camera shows it all full color, albeit muted compared to what it would look like in proper lighting. “To all of you live watchers at home, we’ll be showing all three video styles on separate channels as well as a version just like this one on the main broadcast stream!”
Selica praises the ingenuity of it all, Ismene waxes poetically about the beauty of darkness - Alara sits squinting at the video feed trying to make out anything she can about the arena while she still has a bird’s eye view. “It’s the first urban arena I’ve seen since before… gods at least the last Quarter Quell. They were quite played out for a while there, weren’t they?”
The very suggestion his arena could be unoriginal sends Commodus bristling, but he soldiers on like a professional - “I mentioned much of our budget went to investments in technology and research this year, which did necessitate a few compromises. You’re actually looking at a small city built up around a cargo hub near the edge of the Capitol’s territory - abandoned, obviously. Tragically, the whole place fell to rebels long before any of our times.” The only tragedy is how grim this place looks - gods, there's just so much grey! Besides the scattered shipping containers in washed out primary shades that dot the central warehouses, and some dull brick structures, the most colorful thing she can see is that blinking red light she’d spotted earlier. A closer look at the night vision feed shows it’s sitting atop a tall, rusted broadcast tower - somehow still functioning despite the decrepit structure beneath looking long past its prime. They’ve even managed to make red look depressing. Darling, I do hope you’re ready for this. “We’ve cordoned off a circular area, five miles in diameter-”
“That’s it? A little small for a modern arena, don’t you think?” It’s Selica’s turn to sound disappointed - she’s not a fan of fast games, and small arenas do have that reputation.
“It may sound small when you’re only thinking at a surface level, sure. But we’ve taken a deeper approach than that - I don’t want to give too much away there. We’re also hoping that the darkness itself and the verticality provided by the remaining buildings will give our tributes ample room to-” Commodus is still talking, but Alara’s attention snaps to the studio entrance as a girl in a hat wider than the doorframe and a canary-yellow feathered dress stalks in like she owns the place. The quivering lower lip and the shifty look in her eyes betrays her nerves - Drags up the past, calls me a predator, and she can’t even be bothered to look me in the eyes?!
Selica pounces on the next pause in Commodus’ presentation - “I hate to cut you off like this dear, but we’re getting our signal that the Games are about to begin!” She turns to the camera with a wild-eyed smile - “Of course we still have to squeeze in a quick commercial break, but stay tuned because when we return we’ll be joined by this year’s guest Bloodbath commentator and rising star at the Capitol’s favorite tabloid - Agrippina Finch!” A false wave of cheers echo through the speakers as the stage director has her enter from the left, all smiles and waves - like she isn’t here to try and ruin me. Commodus takes a bow and says his goodbyes to the audience as he exits to the right.
Alara doesn’t stop glaring at the girl until the cameras start rolling again. Not once does she make eye contact, instead content to busy herself catching up Ismene on the whereabouts of a few of her fellow former interns - Still as dull as ever. A quick glance at the clock makes her realize just how close it is to the start of the Games - her stomach nearly unloads itself in revolt. Breathe. Voltaea is taking that crown. I knew it from the moment I saw her. Nothing gets in the way now. This is just a formality. She believes it less and less by the second - No amount of reassurance stops the gnawing in her gut. Selica takes a last drag off of her cigarette before handing it off to an assistant - The music plays - No cracking, my girl needs me sharp. “Welcome back everyone! With four minutes left until the countdown, we should have just enough time for introductions. If you would, dear-” she gestures to the canary-clad woman in the armchair as Alara fumes silently at her side.
Agrippina gives herself a self-aggrandizing introduction that Alara opts to completely ignore in favor of yawning dramatically and pretending to fight off sleep the whole time she talks - She deserves worse, but Selica might have a stroke if I fuck up her itinerary. “I’m sorry, am I boring you?” The girl stops mid-speech to throw a sarcasm cloaked quip in Alara’s direction.
What an idiot. Never give me an opening- Without so much as looking in Agrippina’s direction, she snipes back - “I’ve told you before that you make for dull company. I’m not sure why you think that’s changed just because you’re wearing a fancier dress.”
“And you’re just as nasty as ever, I see.” This time, her voice wavers - Growing up here makes the girls so soft, I can’t stand it! One half-baked insult and she’s already crumbling.
A sickly sweet drawl answers before Alara can and catches both women completely by surprise - “You know I can’t stand it when Alara acts like a bully, but sweetie, you did invite her to this time, didn’t you? I think we were all enjoying the rare moment of quiet out of her before you decided to make a play for her attention, hm?” Ismene still stares at the girl with the same warm smile she had when they were gossiping back and forth before airtime, still using the same friendly tone, but nothing she says is built for kindness now - Oh, this is going to be fun, isn’t it!
Alara opens her mouth to make the kill shot but Selica jumps first - “We’ll have all the time in the world for you three to connect after the bloodbath, but right now we have more important matters on our hands!” She rises to her feet dramatically, both hands above her head, and snaps her fingers - the studio lights cut to black aside from the screens for a brief moment, then four red spotlights hum to life overhead, angled at each of them. “Our tributes are about to take their first look at the arena, I can see the hatches opening now!”
Any excitement Alara has about the fighting in the studio dies the second she looks at the screen and remembers why they’re sitting here - oh, yes. That. The elevators carrying the tributes have peeked out over the surface - not enough that I can fucking SEE anything, of course! “I have to say, I’m excited about our field of contenders this year - a six-way tie for top score is completely unheard of!” Agrippina’s version of a commentator voice, she notes, is dull even when she tries to put inflection into it - Seems she couldn’t buy herself a personality to go with the fancy dress. Her nails dig into the exposed flesh of her opposite wrist - her eyes don’t leave the screen - Come on darling, where are you?
As soon as Alara lays eyes on her girl, the rest of the sound in the room blends together. The other three in the studio chatter away excitedly - shouting out when they spot a favorite. She just watches Voltaea rise from the ground, head swiveling wildly as she takes in the dingy shipping warehouse the Gamemakers have repurposed as their starting stage. One huge light hanging above a torrent of twisted metal, surrounded by twenty-four tributes in what the Capitol insists is random order - That’s a lie, I’m sure, though I’ve never confirmed it. Now that she’s found the important one, her eye turns to the ones she knows are dangerous.
Selica’s girl is the closest of the real threats - separated by three platforms worth of outer-district rabble she can’t recall standing out in any way. Her boy is another few to the left - sandwiched right between the enormous District Two tributes. Alara’s own unfortunate boy stands cowering next to - is that the one Voltaea hangs around with? Lucky break for the both of them - and the wallflower from Four with the hideous ocean-dyed hair. As soon as the glass drops, she hears the first sound from the feed in the form of the District Seven girl’s obnoxious, booming shout - “Sparky!” Oh yes, go right ahead and draw everyone's attention, why don’t you!? If you get my girl killed, I swear to every fucking god- what are you two doing with your hands? Seven flashes a series of hand signals to Voltaea and gets a thumbs up in response - Is this the weepy one’s code? Interesting, what did she tell you? The well-built looking boy next to her looks just as bewildered - and angry, isn’t he from Four as well? Fuck, I forget, was he a danger?
Alara doesn’t get to answer that question for herself, because as soon as the voice of Claudius Templesmith - perhaps my least favorite announcer we’ve ever had for the Games - booms out and rips her attention straight back to Voltaea - “Sixty seconds.”
“Oooooh I love this part! The anticipation is such a rush!” Ismene leans back in her seat and throws her heels up on the table. Selica’s disgusted look and sharp - shhh! - corrects that. Voltaea’s eyes are locked on the Cornucopia until a sharp coughing fit rips her attention to a girl a few platforms to her left. Alara can’t see her face from this angle, but she can see the tension in her girl’s shoulders - Don’t get hung up on the noise, darling, focus!
“Fifty seconds.” - There’s a brief moment where’s back on target, Cornucopia in her sights - That’s it, my love, it’s not worth your time. The coughing fires up again- Keep focused. It doesn’t let up, stronger and more frequent by the second - Darling, don’t bother with her, just keep your eyes forward. A particularly sharp hacking noise sends Voltaea’s head spinning back to the source - Damnit! Alara’s gaze follows just in time to see the sickly-looking girl fainting. “Fourty seconds.”
“Frame!” Selica shouts and the crew catches a shot of her mid face-dive off the starting platform that nestles itself into the corner of the screen - Well fuck me, that’s not going to be any quieter, is it?!
The boom that answers is loud enough that the speakers crackle with static as it floods the studio. Selica claps her hands, cackling as the noise fades and a cloud of dust overtakes the cameras - “Would you look at that! It’s been quite a few years since we’ve had a good platform death, hasn’t it girls?” I don’t care about that! Where the fuck is MY girl?!
The sound team dulls the volume from the broadcast when the screams start - We wouldn’t want to disturb anyone with the reality of the situation now would we? Her teeth clench, her nails dig deeper - by the time the dust clears a short eternity later there’s angry welts forming around them. Her girl is one of the ones screaming - No! You’re not supposed to be afraid! We’ve been over that a dozen times! She’s holding something up to the light at the center of the room - Alara can’t quite make out what it is, but it looks fleshy - Damnit Voltaea, don’t TOUCH that! What are you thinking!? “Thirty seconds.” Drop the body part and get your shit together! The camera starts to pan around - she sees her girl slam her eyes shut - Pay attention! Then, her face drops - mouth shuts - screaming stops - thank the fucking gods, alright, you can do this. You just had to get it out of your system, I can understand that darling, but next time… Oh for fucks sake, what are you doing with that?! Despite Alara’s best efforts to keep a straight face, she scowls in disgust as she watches Voltaea slide whatever it is she’s holding into the pocket of her pants. If anyone else sees that… - a quick glance at her co-hosts tells her they’re too occupied discussing the first death of the season to have noticed a thing. “Twenty seconds.”
“Alara dear, you’re awfully quiet - anything to add on this explosive development?” Selica tries to coax her into doing her job and commentating on something, but all she can muster in response is-
“Really. Puns is the best you can do?”
Agrippina cuts in smugly - just can’t let anyone else have the attention, can you? “I think she’s too preoccupied staring at her victim having a meltdown out-”
“There is a scheduled time for this conversation that I have written VERY CLEARLY in your itineraries and it is NOT RIGHT NOW!” Selica stops the fight before it has a chance to start - I’m going to tear out that slanderous little slut’s throat with my FUCKING TEETH TONIGHT! Alara has to stop herself from slicing through her own skin from gripping too hard - Breathe.
“Ten seconds” - Voltaea positions herself like she’s ready to run - good girl. “Nine” This is it. “Eight” She watches her girl reach up with both hands to tug at her ears - Don’t panic, you can do this, my love. “Seven” I’ve taught you well, haven’t I? “Six” Voltaea lets her arms drop back to her sides - I love you too much for you to lose now. “Five” I didn’t fall in love with a loser, did I? “Four” Her girl spares one last look around at her competitors - No. I couldn’t have. “Three” I’m a victor. “Two.” She locks eyes with Seven and nods - The only girl I could have possibly loved like this is a better one. “One” Alara tenses, leans forward - Don’t prove me wrong, darling.
The gong sounds - “Yes! There they go!” Even Selica’s excitement can’t undo the knots of dread in her stomach. Voltaea - NO! DON’T YOU DARE! GET OFF THAT PLATFORM THIS INSTANT! - hesitates for a few seconds, looking around wildly at the others scattering before she snaps back to the Cornucopia and takes off - MOVE MOVE MOVE MOVE! “Look at that - my Cymbria has decided to make an early exit from the bloodbath with Nerisse Tidewalker of District Four! Though not without a set of knives it seems - good on her, this is going to be a messy one.” Alara takes her eyes off of her girl for a split second to check on Cymbria, who’s gunning for an exit - sidekick in tow, knife in hand, closing fast on the boy from Six as he tries to make an escape through the same doorway. That’s his partner scattered everywhere, isn’t it? Pity. At least this will be cleaner - Alara barely sees the knife touch the boy’s throat before she's scanning the chaos for Voltaea once more. Selica makes the official call- “First kill! Cymbria Vale of District One takes out Elian Vane of District Six with a perfect strike to the carotid artery! What absolute artistry with a blade, I can’t wait to see what she does next!”
Alara spots her girl dropping to a crouch next to a duffel bag just at the mouth of the Cornucopia, slipping something inside and zipping it - “Selica, isn’t that your boy twitching on the ground there?” Ismene chimes in as Voltaea tosses the bag over the shoulder.
“Is it? Oh - it most certainly is! I must have missed that scuffle entirely - Give us a highlight!” She’s briefly distracted by the highlight reel in the corner showing Selica’s peacock boy taking a punch from District Two’s monster of a girl - Fuck me, that’s a concussion at the very least - right to the nose and dropping like a rock. “I think he might be down for the count, but it looks like he’s still moving! My, he didn’t last very long, did he? And that pretty face - gods, what a shame to see what she’s done to it now!” I can’t say I’m going to mourn him. And what a shameful way to go! I’ll have to gloat about that later, your success takes precedence, darling-
Alara’s heart drops when she looks back at her girl only to see her falling onto her back in an attempt to dodge a spear throw from District Four’s boy - “Voltaea get off the ground!” She can’t think, the thoughts just form in her mouth as panicked shouts. The boy pulls another spear from the holster strapped to his back and runs straight for her girl, weapon raised - “MOVE! MOVE RIGHT THE FUCK NOW!” She scrambles backwards, eyes wide, panicked - “DON’T YOU DARE GIVE UP AND DIE ON ME, GET OFF THE GROUND! GET OUT OF THERE YOU STUPID BITCH - GAHHH! FUCKING MOVE!” Alara grabs onto Selica before she realizes what she’s doing, arms thrown around her friend’s neck, screaming wildly, tears of rage and sadness and fear in equal parts pouring down her cheeks.
Alara shuts her eyes, it’s the only way she can bear what’s happening on screen. Agrippina takes her moment of weakness as an invitation to pounce - “I realize we’re not quite there in our itinerary yet, but I think this is a great example of the exact sort of emotional instability I wrote about in my article-”