"I will never get over how good this roast chicken is,"

Jezebel peered over at her longtime friend, mildly disgusted. Lincoln Diel, in his tuxedo-wearing glory, was cheerfully stabbing his fork into a golden roast chicken. He hadn't moved from the table since they'd gotten there about half an hour ago.

"Link, come on. You're the one who wants to be head gamemaker, not me," she walked over and tried to pull the fork away from the oversized child. Lincoln pulled back,

"I have made it this far, I can spare a few minutes to eat some delicious chicken," he looked and his plate dreamily and continued to chow down. Luckily, the rest of the gamemakers were too preoccupied with their own affairs to care about him. Jezebel pulled him over to two cushy chairs, each with large tablets positioned in front of them. The chairs sat in front of a glass wall, peering down over an array of dummies, weapons, and tributes. It was the tributes second day of training and they were all hard at work,

"You're supposed to be surveying the tributes today. Come on, the computers picked random districts for you to look at in the first hour. I'm just here to make sure you don't have any technical difficulties," Jezebel logged into the tablets and allowed them to load in all the data collected the day before.

"Fine, but I can eat and do my job at the same time," Lincoln pointed out. He had set out a little tray on his lap to hold his mountain of food. He had avoxes start to bring him more food as he got comfortable. Jezebel rolled her eyes,

"It seems like all you do is work and eat. How many chip bags can you fit in your garbage?" she asked sarcastically. Lincoln thought for a moment,

"The last time I counted it was 14, but I could be wrong," he answered genuinely. Jezebel sighed loudly,

"Well, let's just look at the tributes," Jezebel stared at the tablet in front of her,

"District Six, the boy is Ford McCaul and the girl is Deidre Woodley," Lincoln read off the screen. Their profiles had pictures of the tributes and seemed to state basic things: height, weight, district ect. They stated their scores on the pre-tests given to them when they arrived and a few fun facts. It also stated their current location in the training area to make locating them easier.

"Deidre? I think that's her name? Aside from having beautiful curly red hair, she looks like she's having a rough time," Jezebel smiled sadly at the girl down below, who was struggling to build a fire.

"Meh, I don't really know. There isn't much to note in her data from yesterday, so we'll have to see how well she picks up skills during the day," Lincoln wiped his greasy hands on a napkin the proceeded to type up a few things. "That Ford kid though, are you sure he's from Six? He's huge compared to what we usually see from them,"

"I have no idea, but that means he could be a plausible victor. Well, if he makes it that far first. Look! He looks like he's getting the hang of those knots he's working with. I think he has a fighting chance," Jezebel smiled and scrolled through his profile, hoping to find good things.

"Jez, you just like to cheer for underdogs. But you are right, we'll have to keep an eye on him," Lincoln flags his profile, allowing the other gamemakers to see that he is a tribute of interest when they look at his profile. "Who's next?"

"District 8, the boy is Tatter Cleary and the girl is Cottyn Thimble," Jezebel looked down into the training area.

"The boy is cute, or he could be. It feels like life is weighing him down or something," Lincoln tried to get a better look at the kid. He was experimenting with a blowdart, getting mixed results.

"He's adorable, but I don't really think much of him. This girl, Cottyn, looks like she cannot sit still for the life of her," Cottyn was trying to listen to an instructor tell her about throwing knives, but seemed to constantly be fidgeting with the knife she was holding. Her hand was bandaged from accidentally cutting herself the other day.

"I wonder what's up, but that might be useful in the arena. Let's see how her private session goes and then I'll judge," Lincoln declared. An avox took away his plate and set down a beautiful fruit tray. "Want some?" he asked Jezebel as he threw some grapes in his mouth. She shook her head,

"No thanks. Okay, so last on the agenda is District Nine. The boy's name is Blake Hanely and the girl's name is Aurelie Winters,"

"Look at her go! She is killing that plant quiz right there," Jezebel grinned. Aurelie was matching up edible berries with ease on the giant screen. Lincoln looked up skeptically,

"It says here that she completely failed the swimming test and isn't all that strong," he pointed, then proceeded to dig through his pile of strawberries to find the ripest one.

"Strength isn't everything, and why do we have a swimming test? An aquatic arena is a logistical nightmare and you know it," Jez scrolled down Aurelie's profile, trying to find the section on the pre-tests.

"Sure, ok, it's not like they have to fight or anything. Let's look at the guy. He's probably getting some-"

"Link that's totally inappropriate and you know it-"

"But look! He's a charmer, I don't know about hard skills though. He's at the knives station and he's ok at it. We'll just have to wait and see. That seems to be a theme this year," Lincoln types away on his tablet, sending out messages to the other gamemakers. Jezebel smiled sadly,

"I wonder who'll win. I kinda like watching them all train and grow, it's endearing," she mused. Lincoln chuckled,

"Jez you know they can't all win. It's ok though, whoever wins will deserve it. I'll make sure of it. Besides, you still have a few more days to watch them train before the arena, and don't forget interviews!" he reminded her gently. Jezebel peered down into the training hall and sighed,

"Yeah, I guess," she mumbled. Lincoln, sensing her doubts, stands up abruptly,

"They just brought out dessert, come on! They mini key lime pies are amazing!" he exclaimed, grabbing Jez by the hand and dragging her out of her seat.

"It's 10:30 in the morning, why are there deserts out?" Jez asked. The two turned and walked toward the dessert table, as Jezebel tried her hardest to forget all the tributes training below her.

Hey everyone! Sorry for the delay. I've been working all week and it's been terrible, I won't lie. I'm just getting back into the swing of things with this chapter so bare with me here.

How'd you like this chapter? I'm glad you've been liking how I'm announcing the tributes so far. I promise that we'll get down to business soon, but I just want to make sure everyone has the oppurtunity to submit before I make my decisions. As always, feedback is greatly appreciated! (Shoutout to FriBarth for pointing out my terrible typos in the last chapter, thank you!)

Don't forget to review!

Thank You!
Dia