This is a story I started a while ago and am now continuing after a three-month hiatus. The tributes have been submitted, although there will be no more reapings, and I hope to see some reviews as I am skipping straight to the Opening Ceremonies in order to really get this story on a roll.
I see that Cashmere67, Dramione4evs, Green-Eyed-Rose, Lupus Overkill, Moonlight Resonance, desprx, and lucky97mary are still on alert for this story, and I'm hoping to see reviews from most of them (though this is listed as chapter two, and fan fiction won't allow you to review again under your pen name, you can still acknowledge that you read it via PM or reviewing while not logged in)!
Binary Richter, District Three
My mentor is quite the character. Her name is Sabrina Bryant, and as the only victor to win her Games by stalking and killing eight tributes, she has been dubbed psychologically unstable.
And yet, she is mentally fit to mentor me. I see.
When we pulled into the station in the Capitol, she gave me a string of instructions; what to do and especially what not to do when being prepped and on my chariot. It was mostly nonsense, though. Then she fluffed my curly, dark-brown hair and gave my cheeks a desperate pinch before shoving me out the train car door.
My prep team has just left me to my stylist. His name is Leo, and he wears lots of blue and silver, to match the shades of his hair and eyebrows. Other than that, I can't tell much about him. He dresses me in what appears at first to be a simple, floor-length bright yellow slip. Its thin straps nearly slide off my bony shoulders, but otherwise the dress fits perfectly. But then Leo has me step into a tight wire spiral that is the exact length of the skirt, and with just a press of a button the wire obtains a neon glow.
"You look gorgeous, Bi, gorgeous!" Leo claps twice, handing me sandals with the same golden glow, which I step into. I'm not crazy about the nickname he's given me, but it's better than some sickening pet name, like Darling or Sweetie.
"Thank you, Leo," I say, remembering my manners. If Leo speaks to his Capitolian friends about how cooperative and nice I am, I'm likely to get more sponsors.
"Oh, but we'll need to get rid of this," he says, reaching for the old, worn-out watch on my left wrist.
"Uh..." I say, putting my hand behind my back, out of his reach. "It's my token, so..."
"But it doesn't match the outfit," Leo insists, grabbing my wrist and taking the watch.
"B-b- but I- um..." I stutter, unsure of how to protest further. Leo smiles.
"Don't worry, Bi. I'll hold on to it for you. You'll get it back after the Opening Ceremonies," he says, Slipping the watch into his pants pocket. "Come now, we must meet Wyatt and Gemma."
Mira Andrelo, District Six
I stand among the other tributes. This is my first chance to get a real look at them. Of course, I saw the reapings. There were only a few tributes that really stuck out in my mind, like the arrogant girl from One. The pair from Four obviously have strong personalities as well. I'm smart enough to figure out that the Career pack won't last long this year.
The little twelve year old from Eight stuck out to me as well. What was her name? Esthere. Oh, there she is now, dressed in a plaid factory worker's dress. She looks so small compared to her district partner, Crow, who is quite tall and well-built.
My mentor, Darius Holmes, is the only District Six victor. He's young; he won the fortieth Games when he was sixteen. He's already an alcoholic, and not much help to Hunter and me. It sucks; the District Six tributes have never made it to the final eight in the history of the Games, and with the drunken advice of Darius given these past four years, they haven't made it to the final twelve, let alone eight.
Hunter taps me on the shoulder. I turn to him, and he nods toward the tributes lined up ahead of us. They've already mounted their chariots.
"It's almost time," he says, offering me his hand. I take it, glad to see that gentlemen still exist in this screwed-up world. He helps me onto the chariot before joining me. I grip the front of the carriage in vain, trying to steady myself. My head has begun to swim, my heart pound, sending blood rushing through my veins. It becomes the only noise I can hear as the chariot lurches forward and we become part of the tribute parade.
Our outfits aren't anything Panem hasn't seen in District Six before. I'm dressed in a promiscuous nurse's outfit, with Hunter as my male doctor partner. What little breasts I have are squished in a too-small bra and my body's curves are exaggerated by the short nurse's dress in a way that is designed to make me look desirable. My hair is twisted into a professional-looking bun, and I struggle to balance on six-inch heels. Despite his best efforts, I know Hunter sneaks a glance or two at my chest during the President's speech.
I just hope the cameras don't catch him.
Hazel Evans, District Eleven
I don't take an actual breath until the chariot has pulled safely into the ground level of the training center. Terra flips her dark red hair in exasperation. Neither of us are thrilled about being here, but I have a feeling there's another layer to my pretty district partner. She seems more annoyed at the Capitol than scared for her life.
We don't speak on the elevator ride. Well, she doesn't. I try a stab or two at conversation, but she shoots them down with silence.
In my room, I change into a grey tunic and jeans, because they're the closest pieces of clothing to what I wore back home.
Dinner won't be served for another half hour, or so the escort, Daniella Brooks, claims. I lay on the plush carpet of my bedroom, amazed at the comfort I feel. It's quite the improvement to the hammock I call home.
I stare at the high ceiling, fingering the black feather I brought as my token. It belonged to my pet mockingjay, Clue. Okay, so maybe she's not a pet, but she sure likes the apple trees between which my hammock is strung. She even built a nest. She's the closest thing to family I have.
Well, besides Kendra.
My mind gets lost in thought, as it often does. I think about strategy; training strategy, interview strategy, Games strategy. None of it does much good. All I can hope to do in training is gain some knowledge of weapons and combat. Maybe make some allies. There's no hope for me when it comes to the interview. I'm immature (or so they tell me), but I'm really just light-hearted and fun-loving. I hope that comes through on-stage.
As for the arena, I'm at a loss. I suppose I should try to get high; after all, climbing is one thing I can do.
But I have to get back to Kendra. So whatever my strategy ends up being, it has to work. I might not ave much to win for (probably a lot less in comparison to other tributes), but she only has me to look after her, the poor thing. Her parents were arrested for collaborating with rebels last year, and Kendra was left on her own. She needs me.
Persistence isn't one of my strong suits, but you can be damn sure I won't give up on my mission to victory. Even if I am only fourteen.