Post by QuinnTalon on May 7, 2013 8:26:13 GMT -5
Janus "Jan" Colton; District 9's Co-Victor of the 26th Hunger Games; The Killer with the Angel's Face
"The brightest flame casts the darkest shadow."
[/color][/i][/center]"The brightest flame casts the darkest shadow."
Everyone watched the Bloodbath.
For Jan, the world fell away. The only thing he felt was Ember beside him, watching it as ardently as he was. The rest of the Sponsor Hall was going mad with cheers and disappointment--apparently there wasn't enough blood for their taste--but Jan was standing in front of a screen, watching them. Watching his tributes.
"I need to send that boy some leg greaves." It was said mostly under his breath. He'd known it. That they'd go for his legs. They'd gone for Jace's because he was quick. Isaac was quick, so they'd go for his legs. Had he shown them how quick he was in training, or had he kept that to himself?
It felt like he hadn't had enough time with them.
That being said--or thought, whatever--they were doing well. He wished one of them were more the 'leader' type, but not everyone could be. Honestly, he wasn't sure how he ended up as 'the leader' type, though with Jace he always had been. He led. Jace followed.
If only to keep him from doing stupid, stupid s***.
The birds though...it was too soon for Mutts. What the hell were the Gamemaker's thinking? Though maybe it was because of the bloodless bloodbath. Which put a bad taste in his mouth because he knew that meant their cruelty would know no bounds. It was like the Career kids were trapped in this endless cycle of brutality. If they tried to be honorable, they were punished for it.
If they were stupid and brutal, they died.
Somehow, that didn't strike him as very fair.
They hadn't seen anything about Lazuli's death, which pissed him off. One would think that the first and only death of the Hunger Games would have been televised, though maybe they just didn't want anyone telling the kids who it was when they went into the Arena.
The thought of it made him sick. Ember going in again, but he knew that there was a pretty damned good chance that she was.
The boy got grabbed and pulled into the air, and Jan had to search his mind for his name. Zale. From District 4. The weird one. Or rather: The one who was so spiritual he was downright otherworldly, and there was a gasp from somewhere. The woman who had been with him at the Feast. His mother? The big man was watching the screen with an intensity that nearly matched his own father, and no wonder.
It was his son.
Oh...they chose to be Hosted, he supposed. The way his mother had last year. This year, they'd all gone home except Max. Who wasn't here. At all. Not in the Sponsor Hall. He wasn't giving any of these sick bastards any sicker ideas. No way.
She was in his apartments. Or Rory's. Or Jasmine's. Or...out wandering the Capitol.
And Hyperion was staying with him. That man would get a handshake when-slash-if he came back. He'd grabbed that boy and hadn't let go of him. Even if that kid died, that took courage. Wherever that bird was taking that boy? It couldn't be good.
That Hyperion would do something like that when he could have let go and stayed with the girl--Riva? When he could have written off Zale as 'lost'? Jan was liking District Four's people more and more.
Zale took a deep breath, turning away from the screens. "Looks like it's time to get to work, My Lady. I...may be late tonight."
It was time to do something to help his Tributes, and his eyes searched out Lyme. Seeing if she was already at work, and to ask her who he needed to talk to. Who were avid supporters of District 9?
Who indeed?