[M] The 48th Annual Hunger Games (Jannah & Zulera301)

Memories. They were always one of the most powerful reminder of the Games. Often they were painful, leaving most Victors hesitant to even discuss their time in the arena. Layla, of course, was surely no exception, except that her Games were still fresh in everybody's minds. The pair of District 12 Tributes would definitely remain fresh as well, along with their powerful District 11 Tributes. The Capitol had seen the odds of a District 11 or 12 Victor this year and they had been high, arguably much higher than they had been in recent years. Perhaps the chances of them producing another Victor were increasing. Layla certainly thought so, producing a nod from Luca.

"I have heard countless times that they have a bit of an advantage in the games that many others simply do not. They are accustomed to surviving and in the Games it is all put to the test." Luca reminded Layla. It was undoubtedly a fact the girl knew by now, but it was always a valuable one worth remembering. "I certainly think it was a factor that helped propel Zefira to the end this year. She was also clever, there's no denying that." He concluded. There was also no denying Layla's fear of the girl, which would no doubt make for an interesting speech.

"So do you know what you're saying yet? I know it might be tricky for you." Luca interjected between sips of his drink. Even if the stop was not until the morning he wanted to ensure that the girl was fully prepared for it. There was simply no knowing what to expect either, knowing that so little was even shared about the Tributes' families. The interviews only allowed for limited time, thus limiting what anybody could reveal before going into the arena. Luca, of course, remembered his own quite well. He had been overconfident and eager like any Career Tribute was. As far as he had been concerned, nothing could go wrong. It had only been once inside the arena that a very different reality hit him. Even to this day it was a reality he continued to struggle with and now Layla would as well while mentoring others to their potential deaths.

"Vera is probably the more charismatic one here." Luca noted with a chuckle. If anybody was going to help Layla with a speech then he hoped that it was her. His expertise was in mentoring. He had lived the games. He knew what to expect, but giving speeches that the Capitol and District residents would approve of was another matter. "Let's just hope you're as good as a mentor as me so you can retire early." He concluded, taking another sip of his drink before stuffing food into his mouth. If he was going to tag along then he figured he might as well make the most of it.

Memories were a tricky subject, because they were so finnicky. Things that seemed so memorable at one point would inevitably slip away, while others would stick around as lasting, painful scars. Layla would remember almost every second of her games for a while, but sooner or later, it would take the passage of time, and most of the 23 other tributes that were no longer drawing breath would have disappeared into the forgotten realms of Panem's mind, never to be heard about again.

Some, however, were far too notorious for that kind of fate. Sure, Ryker and most of Layla's career pack would be remembered by her as her trusted allies until the time came for them to turn, but the ones from the poorer and darker districts that had been drawn for the 48th Hunger Games would definitely not leave Layla's dreams for years to come.
She listened to Luca's remarks, and while she had obviously never been to District 11 or District 12 herself, his words made sense. She figured she would see for herself tomorrow and the following day as they climbed the districts from highest to lowest, where she would likely be wordlessly scorned--since publicly scorning a victor would earn a bullet from a Peacekeeper--if they were lucky.

"oh, I have no idea what I'm gonna say," Layla replied when she realized Luca's question was directed obviously at her. It had taken her a few seconds for that to register, and she had not realized that she had been staring off into space, fixated on a point beyond Luca's right shoulder. "Vera can probably do it... or should. I don't hate Fenris, or even Zefira... well, not relatively speaking, at least... but they terrify me to no end. and I don't imagine that anyone really wants to see me talk about my fears, or ramble on about how terrifying my competition was..."

She trailed off for a moment, losing herself in thought. The laughs, the bombs, the shadows... Zefira's eerie silence, coupled with her intimidating painted face. She was mute... unable to speak, and had somehow managed to frighten Layla and half the career pack without a single word. She wondered how the people of her district viewed her. Was she a pariah there as well, or was she someone that mentors and other tributes would look to as an example? she shuddered at the thought. Either way, it was clear that '12 and almost certainly '11 would likely see these long-lasting tributes as something to strive for when one of their own was unfortunate enough to get called into the games. Time would tell.

"I can't give a good speech on an empty stomach," Layla chuckled, although it seemed a touch forced, "and I'll obviously do my best to keep District 2's reputation up and get us another victor before anyone knows it." This confidence was almost eclipsed by her fear of seeing Fenris and Zefira's families, but there was also that noticeable spark of confidence. Layla hoped it would last the night and into next morning as they reached their destination...

Luca had trouble recalling anybody from his own games that had been as frightening to him as Zefira had been to Layla. This years games had very effective played off fear and it showed. It made the Victor only be able to guess what the following games in just six months time would bring. Would the Capitol continue the fear route or do something else entirely? It was bound to be unpredictable with the Quarter Quell drawing increasingly closer. He only hoped that Layla was able to produce a Victor by then, but it was unlikely. It was rare for a single District to have two subsequent victories.

"It's okay. Eat and then perhaps Vera and I can help you whip something up." Luca finally agreed. He knew it was for the best as saying anything out of line was always risky. It led to most of the speeches being staged, but it provided a sense of security. Victors were supposed to be untouchable by the Capitol forces and doing so would undoubtedly have consequences. That was the way the man had come to understand it at least, and surely Layla and her parents had enough trauma on her hands already. He could not even imagine what it was like to lose multiple children to the games. One had been bad enough.

((OOC: Short post, but meh. I'm just desperate for this to end since it's from so long ago I remember hardly any of the details lol.))

[it's all good. I thought I had replied to this, but it seems I didn't. xU]

Layla was reassured in knowing that there was nothing District 12 could do to her without the fear of serious repercussions not only to the offenders, but to most people in the district, and while that gave her some reassurance, she knew in the back of her mind that she was more afraid of seeing the faces of those two lunatic tributes from the games up on massive screens. She wondered what kind of families they had. She wondered if they were anomalies in their district or if those wild, painted faces were something of a norm.
"Right," Layla nodded as Luca's comment brought her back to reality. "Thank you for that."

District 12 was a stark contrast to the likes of District 2 or (Layla assumed) District 1. Poverty was the norm here instead of a rarity, and while fortunately those freakish painted faces were something of a rarity among the legions of dirty tan, brown, or black faces, they still popped up every now and again in the crowd gathered around to see their new victor and hear her speech. Really, the most ominous features of these people wee their eyes. Perhaps it was the contrast between the whites of their eyes and their soot-covered faces and dark skin, but the contasting colors really made their angry eyes much more of an unpleasant focal point.

The speech Vera wrote was probably the same kind of tripe that rebellious districts like District 11 and District 12 dealt with on a regular basis, and they probably thought that Layla was some kind of suckup like the rest of District 2. Obviously Layla wasn't about to share her true feelings, and frankly,. she didn't want to. She was staying focused on a particular point a few feet to the left of Fenris' mother, who stood alone on her stage in front of a large holographic screen where her son's face stood, a devious, fearless smirk plastered across his painted face.

Zefira's stage was even more curious. There were a couple of young woman standing there, but neither of them looked old enough to be Zefira's mother. both of them looked like older sisters, with the same ragged curls and the same dark red markings across their faces, arms, and bare feet. Layla's expression faltered only slightly as she glanced at them, instantly having flashbacks about the silent and most terrifying warrior the 48th Annual Hunger Games had provided.

...or was she? as her speech concluded, she couldn't help but think about tomorrow's events: District 11: the slightly "off" Kana and her give-no-damn attitude, and the fierce beast of a boy Kamau, and the way he had literally put his fist through poor Ryker's face. She didn't want to think much about it, and certainly didn't want to bring back the still-fresh and painful memories to Luca about losing his beloved son in such a gruesome manner. Some fears would have to be faced alone, and this was one of them.

With Luca still very much mourning the loss of his son the Victory Tour was particularly difficult to stomach. He had been so proud and so certain that it would have been his son he was accompanying across the Districts of Panem, yet a very different course of events had played out. Instead, it was a broken and battered Layla who was barely even able to keep herself together at all. Her games were unmistakably one of the most intense in years; not only had the arena provided plenty of physical challenges, but mental ones as well. The scars seemed to remain.

Whichever scars Layla carried did seem to make their way into the Districts as well. It was rather difficult to listen to her speak, but it was a necessity for each Victor. The speeches in Districts 1 and 3 seemed to flood with emotion. Even if they had had to die for the tiny District 2 girl to return home Luca could sense that the girl had considered their tributes to be friends to some extent. The loss of friends was simply one of the most difficult realities to cope with in the games. It was only by a twisted turn of fate that the girl had not had to off Ryker and his father felt thankful for that.

While not responsible for Ryker's death Luca knew that several other parents were never seeing their children again directly due to her actions. She had proven herself lethal in more ways that one, despite her small stature. That remained impressive and undoubtedly the recent talk of District 2, but it made confronting certain Districts particularly difficult. District 4 was one such District.

While fond of District 4 himself simply because of the sublime seaside environment that it offered, Luca watched Layla a bit more closely. There was simply no denying that she had been directly responsible for the death of their female Tribute. Overall, it made the entire stop on the tour rather bitter for everybody involved.

Districts 5 and 6 were not much better, remaining the same tone as District 4. It was only upon reaching District 7 that circumstances took an interesting turn again. For many months the mystery of Lindell and Cedara had remained a mystery, only finally be uncovered as their mentor, Blight, himself shed some light on it. "Cedara and Lindell were bitter enemies right from the beginning due to their family's vastly different allegiances. Lindell wanted that girl dead - dead for reporting his parents to the District's Peacekeepers. Let's just say that had it not been for her then he would have likely still had parents." The man had explained, leaving Luca himself rather shocked, yet less than surprised that District 7 was so polarized. Had Lindell also wanted the career pack dead due to their allegiances to the Capitol? It was one question of many that the man had found himself thinking about as the tour had progressed.

Arguably the most difficult stop for the man was District 11. He had frozen up especially as the train had arrived on the District's platform. It was there he had been forced to confront the parents of his son's killer. He could only look on as the holographic portrait very briefly before breaking down into tears. Never again would he see his son and Kamau had so effortlessly saw to it. He had been a formidable opponent, but also a vicious one. The name of the game he supposed. "You can go ahead on your own, Layla. I am not going to the feast." He had insisted, ushering the rest of the prep team to go ahead as he returned to the train for the rest of the night. It was locked within his own compartment that he broke down and sobbed again. Ryker truly was gone and Layla remained as a harsh memory of everything that had taken him away.

Luca fared only slightly greater in District 12. They too had produced a pair of frightening Tributes, one that had arguably been Layla's own greatest adversary in the arena. Even before she stepped up onto the stage to speak the man had been almost positive he spotted paralysis from fear all over her. Some Tributes from the games truly persisted and not necessarily always in a positive manner.

It was only truly the Capitol that gave Luca the sense of relief he needed from the emotional trauma that lingered. It was refreshing to see many familiar faces that had come to admire him over the years, only this time they had a newer figure to admire: Layla herself. Despite the loss of his own son the man couldn't help but to feel some pride for her. District 2 continued to shine and produce all manner of Victors. They remained as strong as ever, leaving the man to look forward to the final stop of District 2 where the latest Victor would give the eulogy of a lifetime to his son.

"Well, Layla, I suppose this is it. You knew my son better than most so I know you will leave him remembered well. It was you he spent some of his final days with, after all." Luca spoke bearing a small smile. Despite the bittersweet nature of what was to come he was relieved to be home. Most of all, though, he trusted the tiny Victor of District 2 to deliver a beautiful final eulogy for the boy that had been stolen away from him far too soon.

the Victory Tour was a sadistic reminder of the horrors of the 'games, strategically placed at the halfway point between one Reaping and the next to keep a fairly consistent and constant reminder of the ruthless brutality these games contained. It was almost as if the Capitol knew exactly what went through the Victors' minds and wanted to keep them too broken to try and make a difference in the system. Some victors were more affected by this than others. That boy from District 8 seemed to be one of these, although even that cocky young man from District 1 the year before had come back much more humbled, and his games weren't terribly even that eventful. What else had happened that wasn't shown?

It certainly wasn't like she didn't know the horrors of them herself, considering she was one of the worse-off victors when all was said and done. She had lost friends and had seen many of them die horribly—Ryker worst of all. She remembered cringing 2 years ago when she had watched the 46th bloodbath and learned exactly why that District 11 girl Adrianna Meyrick had been nicknamed "Smash". She had never expected that in 2 years' time she would watch a much more gruesome version of that death play out right in front of her eyes, and to one of her closest friends, no less.

Going to Districts 1 and 3 made her realize how much she missed them. It had been 6 months, but seeing their faces again really brought Layla home to the reality of the situation, and she poured her heart into giving them the respect they had deserved and earned while in the arena. She knew the rest of the tour would not be nearly as friendly though, with the worst districts saved for last. Her reception in District 3 was less negative than she had thought despite her killing Dayta. That had been more of just a necessary evil for the time. She did regret not dealing with Zefira beforehand—or maybe letting herself die and leaving that painted girl's madness to the wily District 3 girl instead.

For Layla, there was nothing particularly griping one way or the other beyond the usual tensions, when it came to Districts 4, 5, 6, 7, & 8. She remembered a brief and short-lived alliance between someone from '5 and from '8, but other than that, the only other thing that stood out to her was District 7, where she learned that Lindell was very much in the same anti-Capitol vein as many a tribute from rebellious districts such as 8, 11, and 12. His partner's opposite views on the subject had been what had earned his ire against her, and while she wasn't suddenly about to become a rebel herself, she suddenly sympathized a lot less with her and a lot more with him. But, it was what it was.

Districts 9 and 10 weren't anything memorable just like their tributes that year, but maybe it was something in the eyes of those District 9 folks that looked like a warning. Perhaps they weren't doomed to always be fodder, after all. The real trouble began in District 11. Layla saw it long-time coming, but that didn't make it any easier to stare at the face of the boy who had brutally murdered her friend without remorse. She really wanted to tell these people that Ryker had not deserved the death he got—no one had, and even now, Layla wouldn't even wish it upon enemies such as Kamau or even Zefira. Looking at the hologram face of his partner though,and Layla gulped, knowing what tomorrow would entail. Kana Loreziah had been very difficult to kill, and that menacing smirk she always wore was even in her photograph. She had been fairly close to that menacing pair from District 12, and it made her wonder just what other mysteries she had taken to the grave.
While she wasn't surprised that Luca did not attend the feast there, she felt for him regardless, trying to fathom how hard it must be to lose your son in such a gruesome matter. She had been so worried from the get-go that he would be mad at her; that if she won he would blame her for "stealing his son's place". Perhaps he would have if it had come down to just the two of them and they had been forced to turn on one another. She didn't want to think about it. Instead though, it was more of him mourning—which made perfect sense to her. If someone told her to stop morning, she would take them by the hand and say "my choice". She gave Luca that same respect.

District 12 was something else entirely though. It was almost like Fenris and Zefira had started a cult following, what with how many painted faces there were among the crowds. Layla stuttered a lot, and not from shyness, but from abject fear. Whoever these people were, they did not like her and she did not like them. For how abysmal their track record was, there was no mistaking that District 12 produced formidable and memorable fighters. She feared whether she liked it or not, Zefira Saratoga would go down in infamy and not be forgotten.

Despite her holding no real love for the Capitol anymore considering how they had (mis)treated her, Layla found reprieve here just as Luca did. for the malevolence of the Capitol higher-ups, most of the "commoners" (who were still more extravagant than even the wealthiest of District 1) here were likely blissfully naive of the true malice of these events, and as such they fawned over their latest victor. It was nice, however brief it was.
And yet... it was nice to be home in District 2 the following day. The only hurdle that remained between now and resting up for another 6 months was Ryker's eulogy. Here she would have no trouble delivering her final thoughts in a passionate, heartfelt speech that was no doubt going to move at least her to tears.

"Ryker Szasz was young, but he was everything that District 2 stood for: strength, loyalty, passion, endurance. He was a proud son of our esteemed victor and mentor Luca Szasz from 26 years prior. I was... honoured to have fought with him, and... was devastated at his death. He did not deserve to die... much less like that. No one... no one deserves to die like that. A fine man lost a son that day... a victor lost a friend that day... the District lost a fine citizen that day... and I..." despite her eloquence, she was already crying—hence her stuttering words, "forgive my emotions. He... I... that's a wound that is still very much fresh in me as it is in his father."
She continued for several minutes with remarks such as this, truly pouring her heart and soul into the eulogy for the boy who had probably been (outside of her own family) her best friend. wounds may have healed gradually over time, but scars had this awful tendency to linger around... forever.

The Tour was coming to an end, closing up another legacy. However, the games themselves never truly ended. Those who lived them and experienced them endured the various scars that came with the experience. Some arguably more than others, but the wounds always ran deep. Luca's in particular had seemingly been opened once more with the death of his own son, his own flesh and blood that he had raised and had so proudly paraded directly into the arena. His intentions, like anybody else's in his District, had been noble but had he entered prematurely? Such thoughts regularly crossed the man's mind these days. Perhaps Ryker would have been alive and well had he waited a few more years. A mystery for the ages and one the man would have to settle on leaving unanswered.

Ryker truly was gone and Layla's eulogy stung like the painful reminder it was. As she spoke there was much emotion running through the veins of District 2, but this time it was especially personal. He tried to hold back tears as he stood in front of the massive holographic portrait of his son, but to no avail. He was gone. He was not coming back. Now only Layla remained, the one remaining person alive who had seen him in his final moments. They had admittedly not been his finest either, yet another reality that stung. This time like a swarm of angry Tracker Jackers.

Even the feast left the man rampant with emotion. He did not blame Layla for the boy's premature death, but still he could barely look her in the eyes. It reminded him of so much - so much that he simply wanted to forget. Alas, his own healing was bound to take some time.

"You should talk to her at least, make her know that you hold no malice towards her." Vera was the first to break the silence, producing a swift nod from Luca. Perhaps the Mentor was right. He and Layla were practically neighbours now so sooner or later would have to learn to live with each other. The District 2 Victor's Village was always crowded, thus allowing very little space for true solitude. If anything, she was somebody besides his wife who did seem to understand his pain. She too had lived it. She too had had to kill other people's children in order to make it out of the arena alive. It was simply the name of the game and it seemed to change every Victor regardless of which District they originated from. That was something that so few could fully cope with on their own.

Upon approaching the girl, he nodded and rose his glass as if to toast. "That eulogy...it was beautiful. I'm sure the entire District saw me break down on stage." He admitted, wiping away more tears that had begun to form. "This District will certainly not be the same without my Ryker, but what can we really do besides work on healing and moving on? He made his choice, despite the risks that came with it. As his father and a beloved Victor of the Capitol I had little choice but to respect it." He paused, finally breaking down entirely. "I suppose now I know what it feels like to be one of the parents losing their children to these games..."

Luca downed the rest of his drink with only minimal effort. He allowed the alcohol to linger inside his mouth for several seconds before swallowing it entirely. It was bitter, reminiscent of everything he was experiencing tonight as the tears continued to flow. He missed Ryker and would do nearly anything to see him even just one last time. Reviving the dead, however, was something not even the Capitol could do(or perhaps were simply not willing to).

"I am going home. If you ever want to talk, you know, about Victor things or even reminisce about Ryker then you know where to find me. I have plenty of recovery to do, which definitely makes me thankful that I will not have to return to the Capitol again in six month's time. Lincoln can have his job back, unless you'd rather take over?" He finally decided, setting his gaze on the latest Victor. He had eaten and had even enjoyed a few drinks. Now it was time to mourn one last time. In private no less. Eventually he would have to overcome his grief and return to the public eye, but as long as they were focused on Layla he had some time to himself. For that he was thankful and intended to take full advantage of it.

"I cannot pretend to know what it is like to lose a child, but I would say I've earned this." Vera agreed, embracing the emotionally fragile man. "Take care of Layla too after we leave tonight. She deserves that much."

Forming a tiny smile, Luca nodded. "That I can promise you. She knew and trusted my son so think of it as a favour of sorts." He proclaimed. A promise. Surely that was what it was and it was one he knew he was bound to for as long as he lived. In many ways Layla had practically become the daughter he never had, even if he did not dare admit it to the tiny girl. God forbid he would allow anything else to happen to her ever again, a thought that he kept firmly in his mind all the way home. The 48th Annual Hunger Games may have ended, but the games never truly ended. For some, they were only just beginning.

It was not like Layla had not expected emotions to run rampant throughout this entire stop and the festivities afterward which of course were longer and grander than the rest (except maybe the Capitol), but even so, she found herself thinking about Luca during most of the speech and even during the feast. She worried for the first little bit; fearing that she had said or done something that had sparked his ire or triggered something traumatic. She knew how that could be, and while she had gone into a lot of detail, it had all been heartfelt and sincere, considering that she was friends with Luca as well now, in an odd sort of way. They could relate to each other, and both felt the pain of losing immediate family, with Luca losing his son and Layla having lost two of her sisters. That, and Ryker had been a good friend to her, and every time she thought of him she could only think about how horrible his death had been and how awful she felt for him.

She briefly worried that Luca had been avoiding her because of something she had said or done, and so when she saw him finally approach her, she sighed with relief. His words were not at all comforting, and yet they did not need to be. It was a hard and extremely painful truth and one that Layla feared she might one day face as well.
"I'm sure there's not much advice a 15-year-old could give a man your age at this point, Luca," Her using his name was definitely deliberate, in putting him as her equal and not below or above him. "But if I could... I would say don't let anyone belittle you for showing emotion. If someone tells you to stop mourning, you take their hand, look them in the eye and say "my choice". No one gets to tell you when your wound is healed but you."

She didn't feel the need to give a sermon or another moving eulogy at this point, but it was clear there was a mutual respect between them at this point. Layla drank as well, although a bit less since even without considering the higher natural alcohol tolerance men had, she was also a very small woman. And yet, when kids 16, 15, and even 14 stepped out of the arena alive, few say them as boys or girls any more, because most of them developed a maturity well beyond their years due to the trauma and horrors in the arena, and Layla was no exception. It was cruel, and it forced these children to grow up much faster than they naturally should have, but what could be done about that at this point? Even without taking physical injuries into account, there were still scars—real scars that were no less valid than physical ones when all was said and done.

"I... will definitely keep that in mind." she said in response to his offer, "and I will likely take you up on that offer now and again. I'll even bring drinks sometimes if you want. You're a good man though, and I want you to know that. A good man, a wise victor, and a good father. I respect that." Ironically, due to her own parents wasting away as they drank and drugged their grief away, they weren't really "there" anymore either, and as such, over the last 6 months she had grown closer to Luca, almost feeling like he was the father she never had. She didn't want to say that to him though because it could potentially come off as awkward or inappropriate. More than anything, she thought this, considering she almost felt like saying so would make it seem like she was trying to replace Ryker, which she knew she not only couldn't do but had no desire to do. Still, she hoped they could remain close; if not as close friends and confidants, but also as fellow victors of District 2 as they pushed forward to keep their legacy strong, and what was left of their mental and emotional stability intact.

Fortunately given their track record Layla didn't think she would have to mentor tributes for too many more years before producing another victor, but she knew she couldn't get cocky. There were too many fresh wounds from the games and she wanted to make sure any tributes under her care knew the risks when they went in. And in 6 months, those skills would be put to the test—both the skills of an eager young man and young woman who raced and brawled their way to the stage, and the skills of Layla Aranai as a victor and mentor. But for now... drinking was a good way to end the night as they said their goodbyes. 6 months from now the next games would begin, but until then, Layla would return home and take some well-earned time to rest and recuperate. It was the very least she could do, considering this was truly the first day of the rest of her life...