Author Games: Dacnomania Nexus Accourt

Semi-Finals - Capitol Roulette - Laurent Bloom

District One - Laurent Bloom

A handshake. My father spent days and day trying perfect mine. He believed that no matter what, everyone could achieve the perfect handshake. I didn't. Hands were a funny thing; too small, too large, too sweaty, too dry, long nails. The list goes on and on. But I never mentioned my opinion. You never mention your opinion in front of Arch Bloom.

"So, allies, right?" He asked, pulling his hand away from mine. It wasn't too bad. A bit soft, but the suit prevented any awkward sweat from ruining it.

There was blood smeared on my suit, dried and flaking off. I wondered if Strider would still want to be allies if he knew I just killed Bellona. 

My eyes scanned the horizon carefully. "For now." I tried not to notice when his grin fell slightly. "The end is almost here." 

"Oh, philosophical." A grin cracked on my face, and Strider threw a victorious fist into the air. "I got Laurent Bloom to smile. This is great."

I rolled my eyes, continuing forward. "Shut up, Thorne." I snapped, spinning a spear around my fingers. There were only a few of us left. Bellona's sword hung on my hip. "Do you have a weapon?" 

Strider bit his lip, looking down at his shuffling feet. "I had one but-" I handed the sword to him, cutting him off.

"You are going to need it for later." He gave me a blank look, stuffing the sword on his hip. "The feast?" Another blank stare. I took a deep, calming breath. "There is going to be a feast at midday." I watched the sun, squinted against the harsh light. 

"We go to the Cornucopia and hide. One of us will grab all the food, the other will kill anyone who interferes."

He stumbled slightly over the word 'kill'. Poor kid. "Great plan, but use some common sense. They aren't going to let us waltz in and take food, half of which is poisoned." 

He bit his lip, looking over at me. "So, it's going to be another Bloodbath?" It would be worse; a battle filled with the strongest of us. But I don't have the heart to tell him. 

A loud grumble from Strider's stomach echoed. His cheeks turned pink as I laughed. He glared at me, placing his hand on his stomach. "I am starving. I haven't eaten in three days." 

Three? "Aren't you used to that in District Twelve? Not eating for long periods of time?"

"Yeah, but not for three days." He looked at me sideways. "Why aren't you hungry, Mr. Luxury?" 

I sent him a scowl as I stomped forward. "It has only been a day since my resources ran out,  actually." 

He kept going, as if he thought he would pry the answer from me. "But aren't you used to eating, like, five huge meals a day?" I stopped, whirling around to face Strider. 

"What does it matter?" I snarled, narrowing my eyes at him. "What the hell does it matter if I am hungry or not?" With that, we kept walking, but Strider didn't speak.

After a few moments, I opened my mouth. "We have a lot of food there, in One." I told him. He didn't dare open his mouth, just listened. "But we do a lot of training. I would fast like this, no food, no water to train. And occasionally as punishment for not working hard enough."

"So everyone from One starves themselves, just so they can win?" He asked me, fiddling with the sword.

I shrugged, even though he wasn't looking at me. "Not everyone. Just me. My father made sure I trained hard. Made sure I was the best."

"Oh." Strider responded, but I was grateful. I wasn't ready for him to question what I said. "Well, we will be there soon. We can get food and-"

  I quieted him,  pulling violently at his arm as we ducked behind a large, crumbling rock. A tribute was walking along, a wrench plastered to his small hands. I pulled a spear from where they were placed on my hip. "Stay here." I whispered to Strider and then bolted from behind the rock.