The Masonry Academy for Conditioning Intellectuals Guide to Becoming a Tribute

Fear cuts deeper than swords-George R.R. Martin

:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:District 2 of Panem:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:

Katniss's POV

The morning after the Opening Parade I'm feeling bitter, though it doesn't have anything to do with the rain that's softly sounding in my room when I wake to a grey, dim sky. It's more to do with the parade last night and if I'm being honest with myself, I miss Gale. I don't ever recall going multiple days without seeing or talking to him and it's already getting to me, but I try to push it away as I force myself to get up for school, going through the monotonous motions without really thinking about it. Probably because my mind is still stuck on last night.

As soon as I realized that the screams and squeals for Gale were bothering me instead of simply making me happy that he was going to get sponsors, I had never wished more that I had just stayed home to watch the parade instead of being in the very public square, at the front of it with Gale's family no less. I didn't know what to do with it so I paid very close attention to the rest of the parade, more than I ever had before or really needed to if I'm being honest. No one else was paying too close attention to the rest of the parade, just glancing at the screen and from the conversations around me that I could eavesdrop on they were mostly still talking about our tributes. But no one missed District 12, that's for sure.

They've never really made a splash in the Opening Parade or anything before, being that their district is coal mining and you really can't make that too appeasing. The only year I can distinctly remember them being different and talked about was when their stylist actually had them naked covered in coal dust for the parade when I was nine years old. I didn't really register that it was particularly embarrassing or shocking myself at that time, but the crowds around me certainly did. Some were gasping, some were putting their hands over their children's eyes, but most were laughing at the ridiculousness of it. But this year they did make a splash, and it's actually good, not embarrassing in the least. They came out literally on fire, as if they were coals burning through the night. There wasn't a ton of makeup on their faces so you could clearly recognize them, and the crowds shouted their names in awe.

Immediately I was annoyed with this, but I'm still not particularly worried. So what if Twelve made an impression at the parade for once? That's all the stylist, not the tributes. Any tributes would have looked good in that costume, and what attention they've received from it won't matter when their scores come out, and when they become just two more bloodbaths like every year. So even though the cameras during President Snow's speech couldn't stay away from them as they burned like a beacon in the darkening sky, I stayed calm. I could tell as the camera came to Gale and Clove that he was annoyed by it too, but he stayed composed and focused on the President instead.

But still, that didn't stop me from sneaking out of my room last night after the rest of my family had gone to bed, turning on the television in the living room at low volume and flipping through channels until I found what I was looking for. It was interviews from after the parade today, going through the stylists and how they felt about the reaction to their designs, what it entails for their tributes. It's on District 7 when I find it so I mute the volume as to not wake up anyone until it gets to District 11, waiting for the stylist I really want to know about.

His name is Cinna, a surprisingly normal looking guy for the Capitol (and considering he's a stylist) and his partner who seems like a normal Capitolite that came up with the fire creation. He speaks in a quiet self-assured tone and seems to be pleased with the reaction to his design, but extremely modest about it. It's perplexing, but he is a stylist; maybe all his differences are what make him stand out there, his own sort of splash in the crazy Capitol fashions. He stays mysterious about the designs for the interviews, but I already know that they're going to be good if the parade was any indication.

Still, I try to not stay too jealous that he's not with District 2. He is a new stylist and they are almost always given District 12 because they suck. Next year he'll certainly be upgraded, maybe even to our district. And then he could dress me for the Quarter Quell. It's certainly an enticing thought, and after turning off the television I went back to bed thinking of myself dressed in flames next year.

But all thoughts of my own stylist are gone this morning as my monotonous routine is completed, only the animosity left behind. Even Prim can tell that I'm not in a good mood today, but she knows me well enough to not say anything about it because it will only make it worse. Instead, the only indication she gives is the giant squeeze she gives me right before we put on our raincoats to walk to school, silently assuring me that she's here if I need to talk about it or be distracted. It's sweet and makes me feel a little better, but not enough to bring me out of my mood.

When we arrive at school after our ten minute walk in the rain and our shoes soaked from puddles, we part with a smile, mine halfassed before I sigh and go to my first class. The morning goes by slowly, me not really paying much attention to anything I'm supposed to be learning, and I'm never more grateful for the lunch bell to ring for years ten through twelve, all the fifteen and sixteen year olds at South being year eleven like me. Year thirteens get their own lunch since there's really no easy way to divide it except for threes, so they get that privilege. I make my way there with the rest of my classroom with my lunch bag in hand, sitting down at the normal table for lunch with the rest of the Academy students in my lunch, a group of about eight.

Since those who are chosen for the Academy aren't really selected equally from schools, I'm only one of two from my own grade at South so I'm glad that there are more of us in lunch. It's not so much that I talk to them; it's rather we understand each other better than the rest of the school. Most of the district enjoys the Hunger Games like we do, but there are a few like my mother who hate them, and some are more vocal about it. They don't like us, and while I know I can take them it's far easier to just ignore them all. And though I'd rather sit by myself at lunch, that group is far less likely to bug me if I'm with the rest of the Academy students so I do.

The atmosphere at our table is excitement and anticipation, the comradery between people here that only comes with the Hunger Games. I don't pay too much attention, but I do listen enough to pick up that most are betting on Gale, some on Clove, and one lone boy at the end of the table on someone named Thresh, who is I can only assume the giant boy from District 11 by his description of him. I just focus on my lunch while I think the same things that they're talking about when the girl next to me, Sierra who is a year younger, nudges me with her elbow. Coming out of my daze, I blink and look at her to find her watching me expectantly.

"Hmm?" I ask, assuming that she probably wanted something and I wasn't paying attention.

"I asked how Gale was feeling when he left about the Games. You saw him before he left, right? In the Justice Building?" she questions me, anticipating an answer. I'm not sure if she actually cares or if she just wants information from the best source she can find for her own betting purposes, but I guess it doesn't really matter.

"Yeah, I did." I confirm, just barely holding back a blush. It's almost sad since it was just a few days ago, but really the only thing I can remember with clarity is Gale asking me if I would kiss him. "He's been planning for a while, I know he's ready for anything." I reply instead of giving her details I probably wouldn't say anyway. Besides it is the truth, and if he's not ready than I know he will be before he gets on that starting plate. And if not…well, improvising is always an option.

"Oh what kind of plans?" another person at the table asks with interest, clearly eavesdropping. Suddenly I take a quick glance around the table and find that I'm the center of attention. Of course, I'm the one they can go to for anything about a tribute. It makes me a more than a little uncomfortable and only adds to my already bad mood, but it's not like I'm going to let them know that.

"Oh don't worry, he's got it all figured out. Gale is going to be the Victor." I smile evasively, but it's really to hide the truth. I actually have no freaking clue what any of Gale's plans are, though I could probably guess some of them from how well I know him. I guess I could have asked about it, but I never did.

"What makes you so sure?" a voice from behind me questions bitterly, and I turn with the rest of the table to find a group the next table over listening in as well to our conversation. And it's not just any table, today it happens to be a group that's like my mother. These people hate the Hunger Games, and I would bet money while our table was excited and betting, they were doing the opposite.

"Because I've known him practically my whole life." I answer, not going into it. But clearly that's not good enough, and the biggest boy at the table, clearly a leader of some kind of theirs, laughs unamusedly at my answer.

"You Maci's are all the same. Always confident in your 'warriors' that are trained to kill and heartless to boot, just for them to die." He mutters as I glare at him, and I can feel the rest of my table doing it too. And the way he says Maci's, which is a nickname based on the Academy name (original, right?), he's almost spitting it. Like it's a bad thing to be honored.

"What do you know about tributes?" one of the boys at our table questions, rolling his eyes. "You, always safe and sound because there are trained volunteers to always take your place. You wouldn't last five minutes in the arena."

"Oh you mean volunteers like you?" a girl from the other table counters, narrowing her eyes at him. "You, at eighteen, still going there for…what exactly? The 'honor' of it?"

At that the boy next to me half growls and looks like he wants to say something else to her (he's eighteen because he fell behind in classes one year and doesn't like to speak of it), but I stop him and stand up, walking towards their table, propelled by my anger and my sense of defense for what I and the rest of us are. I've had more than enough practice with mom, except normally I keep my responses in my head with her because she's still my mother and I have to live with her. But these kids, they need to learn something. And I know I'm just in the right mood to do it.

"Yes, volunteers like me." I begin with my eyes in slits, knowing that they wouldn't have the knowledge that I'm going to volunteer for the Quell next year but now's a good a time as any to let them know. It makes me sound better anyway. "You know, it's probably not wise to piss off people who know how to kill whether they go into the arena or not. A bow, a sword, a knife, even our bare hands…it's what we know how to do, which is why we have confidence in our tributes. We know what they can do because we can do it too."

"Are you really threatening us?" the leader asks, attempting confidence but his eyes give him away. Fear. Finally seeing that just maybe he should keep his opinions to himself, or at least do it from a safe distance. Because he knows every word is true, and I can feel the smirks and smiles behind me from where I stand. Is it the best way to go? Maybe not, but it's true. And though none of us would actually bring a bow or sword to school, it's a pretty safe bet that most of us at least have a knife. I do, and I can feel it protectively safe in my belt, covered by my shirt.

"No." I admit, because I wouldn't actually kill any of them, especially not in school. "Just teaching you how the world works."

But my hand goes to where my knife is, and I finally see real fear in their eyes as I smirk and go back to my table where I'm greeted by impressed looks and smiles. Who needs a weapon when you have fear? They won't be bothering us any time soon, that's for sure.


Gale's POV

"And then I said, 'buns? I got your buns right here!' before I turned around and bent down, wiggling my ass." Marvel finishes his joke as the rest of our table laughs, me chuckling along with the rest and actually sort of enjoying myself. The alliance, as predicted, came together seamlessly this morning. We all got to training earlier than we had to be around nine thirty and since we recognized each other from the reapings, it wasn't hard to come into a group before any of the other tributes even bothered coming down. And now here we are at lunch joking and telling stories together while the rest of the tributes sit by their lonesomes, either trying not to listen to us or maybe they are. It really doesn't matter anyway.

I wasn't really sure how I'd feel about the alliance before I got here, but I'm feeling alright now that I've assessed some of their skills and actually talked to them all and know pretty much what they can do. Naturally to install fear right away into the other tributes, the six of us went right to weapons as soon as the head trainer Atala allowed us to, I'd assume to our specialties. Clove made a beeline for knives while I dallied over to archery, knowing I'm actually better at snares but wielding a bow appears a lot more deadly at the moment. Knots don't look very leathal unless you know they are, and really the goal of today is to show off. Show them what I'm made of, not to mess with me, etc. etc. But really it also gave me a chance to look at the others not only in my alliance or potential threats, but everyone else as well.

Thresh went for some of the spears and scythes, and he's naturally pretty go at it. It's not really the most welcome thing, but that's alright. I like a challenge and I'm a competitive guy, so if this kid is going to give me some kind of fun in the arena then I don't really see it being terrible for me. Besides, taking out a guy like that will make me look like a badass. The only thing left besides watching him the whole time is figuring out a solid way to beat him if not more than one way. I'm not really a fan of only one plan for everything because I feel better having a backup plan or two, so I have a lot of work to do with this one.

That girl from five who I've dubbed Red since I don't really know or care what her name is has been at the plant station all morning, and I instantly know that she's not really a threat anymore. She's not bothering with weapons yet and I can't see her being good at them, so maybe that spark in her eyes that I saw was simply her will to live. Clearly, her strategy so far is to make it by just surviving in the arena by the looks of it. I went to the closest weapons station which was making spears from sticks and as I used a knife to sharpen one end, I watched her. She's actually not bad at it, but she does miss a few. I'm not nearly as good at the plant stuff as Katniss but I do know a lot, and that's going to play into my own strategy eventually. The only difference between me and this girl is that I'm not making it obvious I know that stuff and I won't need it for survival. Still, I'll watch her and see what she does like the rest of the nonthreatening tributes but I'm not particularly worried about her.

Marvel, true to form for those who are trained, is pretty good. His specialty seems to be spears, but he also appears to be adequate with a sword and hand-to-hand combat as well so far. He's also a tall and muscled guy like myself as well so I can safely assume that we have similar strength, so I know he's one to look for. Could be dangerous too, but after half a lunch talking to him I'm not so sure that he's a genius. I'm not saying that I'm a genius by any means, but strategy is as much a weapon if not more than any snare, bow, or knife I'll use in the arena. He seems to just be a joker and he watches those he wants to kill, mostly girls. I don't know what his deal with that is, but maybe he thinks he can take more girls out or something. I could tell he seems to have taken an interest in Clove with that look and I'm honestly just fine by that. Though I have at least a dozen ways I could take her out, it would be ideal if someone else would since I wouldn't get looked at badly when I get home.

Glimmer for all her sexiness (which is even more potent close up), is actually decently good with weapons. She didn't volunteer and didn't seem like someone who would because most girls from One are more like Marvel skills-wise, but it's evident she's had training. I wonder if One has a list too and that's how she got here since she was reaped, but I don't ask. I wouldn't even know how to bring something like that up anyway and it really wouldn't make a difference. Besides, my best weapon with her is going to clearly be my own flirtatiousness that could give her's a challenge. She seems to have a genuine liking to me, and though it might make it a little more difficult to kill her eventually it will definitely gain her trust easier, and that is more valuable to me than anything at the moment. Even though my heart belongs to Katniss, this is the Hunger Games; I've got to use every damn thing I've got to win, and if that means flirting my ass off I will.

Havana also seems to have some sort of training, but she's only about the same level as Glimmer. Clove is hands down the most skilled girl in these Games with that assessment, but that's alright. It will make our district look better anyway. Besides, it's not necessary for all of our alliance to be complete badasses anyway; we do need guards for supplies, you know. Slone, the boy from Four seems about the same as Havana, though he seems young for our alliance at only fifteen since the rest of us are sixteen to eighteen like normal. Overall, I'm pretty happy with the alliance though. It will make it easier to take them out when necessary anyway, and that will leave the real competitors to fight for the victory.

We also seem to get along pretty well, and though I can tell it annoys Clove and Marvel to an extent, I seem to be accepted as the leader of the alliance. Which is just fine with me, because it can only make me look better. Besides, it'll be pretty awesome to be a clear going to be Victor all along, because I'm not one for taking orders from anyone. I mean, yeah I know I have to when it comes to Jay or the other trainers, but Jay is pretty good about my boundaries. He's allowed me free reign on my strategy for the arena, hasn't even asked me about it yet though I've been waiting for it for a while now. I wonder if he ever will or if he's just going to let me do what I want.

After more joking around and finishing lunch all of us tributes are ushered back into the training room where I decide to take a break from archery and spears and go to hand-to-hand combat. It's what I've been particularly training on for the past six months or so because as Jay likes to point out, it's not my strength and therefore it's my weakness. I grumbled about it because why would I have needed it in the woods all these years, but I get the point. If I'm jumped or something, I could probably stand my ground for a while but in the end if my opponent knew what they were doing they could probably take me. I'm much better at long range weapons clearly, or even better, weapons I can just leave there and wait for prey to fall into. But I've gotten much better with Jay and particularly Norman's help with this area, and while it ended in my fair share of bruises and occasionally minor concussions, I've definitely improved. I take the trainer here down in less than five minutes and he seems suitably impressed, so with a confident smile I move on to something else.

When I go to the knife station where Clove is yet again at, I pick up some knives and throw them at targets right next to where she's standing. I'm obviously not nearly as good as she is, since she really is a pro at this particular thing, but I do hit the target every time, mostly near the bull's eye. She slows down her throwing pace and without looking at me, speaks in a low voice.

"So what do you think of the alliance?" she questions me, throwing yet another bull's eye at a high target on the wall in the left corner. Genuine surprise crosses my mind that she's actually asking me since I assumed that we were just not going to talk about strategy, but I guess we are district partners. Maybe that does count for something in the end.

"Marvel seems to be skilled, but the rest are decent." I give her my honest assessment, and from the corner of my eye I can see her nod in agreement.

"Glimmer's alright with a bow." She informs me, and I almost roll my eyes. Maybe to someone who doesn't know how to do archery in particular she seems good, but not to me. In fact, Glimmer's maybe just above an amateur in that department, and it certainly looked bad to me. Or maybe I'm just being biased because I'm normally with a girl who can outshoot me or really, anyone except her dad any day, and I'm pretty good.

"Eh, I'm better. I'll have a bow if it's in there." I shrug nonchalantly before throwing another knife, smiling to myself and doing a silent cheer in my head when I hit the bull's eye.

"True. Maybe there will be two." Clove predicts before turning around, now throwing her knives by turning and whipping them over her shoulder. Damn that girl is good with those things. I'm glad that I won't be at the wrong end of them during the bloodbath, that's for sure.

"Maybe." I agree, though I doubt it. A bow isn't always in the arena, and besides that, the Gamemakers would probably find it much more entertaining to only have one so Glimmer and I would have to fight over it.

"Or if there's only one, I'm sure you could charm your possession of it with her." She suggests and turns around, giving me a knowing, amused smirk and I roll my eyes. Of course she's noticed Glimmer's flirting; it'd be hard not to.

"You've noticed." I comment, and now it's her turn to roll her eyes.

"Havana too. I swear if they knew you better they wouldn't." she mutters and I stop throwing knives, crossing my arms and quirking my eyebrow.

"What makes you say that?" I question, genuinely curious. Charming girls comes pretty easily to me, but her comment makes me wonder if that annoys her or if she secretly likes me too. Eh…probably annoyance. After all, that strategy would only take sponsors away from her if all the attention for our district is on me.

"Because it will only kill them in the end, won't it?" she whispers knowingly, and I almost curse under my breath. Well shit, so much for that strategy being a secret. But does it really matter so much if Clove knows I'll use their flirting with me to get their trust just to use it to take them out?

"Do you plan on telling them then?" I ask her, truly looking for her answer. It's not as if that strategy was my only one, but it's certainly the easiest.

She taps her chin with the not dangerous edge of her knife for a moment before answering. "Nah. Two less tributes for their stupidity, right?"

I'm kind of surprised by her answer, but she does have a point. It's not like I would tell Marvel or Slone if our positions were reversed, because they would be far less likely to see it coming. And two less tributes is two less tributes when the time comes.

"Right." I nod, and with a smile from her she gestures to the targets and we simultaneously throw three knives each together, all of them going on the targets, four in the bull's eyes (one from me, three from her. I turn around to go to another station after that and find not a few tributes blatantly observing us, and all of them have a look of fear in their eyes.

That's right tributes, look at the real competitors. Fear before the arena is truly the best weapon, better than any sword. And you know why? Because they lose the will to try and fight. That fear will make them another bloodbath, and the numbers will go higher because of it.

Because fear cuts far deeper than any weapon.