Author's Note: Please forgive me if parts of Lude's monologue seem weird. My brain died a little on me here. *sweatdrop*


Lude Ermany, District 2

It is officially the first day in the Training Centre. Being a Career tribute, there is not much I will need to learn here, but I can see the other tributes, those without my experience, committing to memory the skills they are offered.

At the archery station are the 7's, the twelve-year-old girl carefully pulling an arrow back and her district partner watching solemnly.

At the swordfighting station are the 11's, the girl from 6, and the boy from 10. They're all doing fairly well, though they still won't have a chance against the better-trained Careers.

Speaking of which, the Career tribute from 4, Japan, is entering the station himself.

He obviously isn't there to learn, so I imagine he'll be demonstrating the usual Career strategy: intimidation.

And my assumption is correct. Japan's forte is obviously swords, the way he gracefully slices the air with glib strokes.

He will be a welcome ally, though when the time comes to eliminate him, I will not hesitate.

For often in these Games, hesitation means death. And for me, death is not an option. I will return home no matter what the cost.

Because I am a soldier. And true soldiers never surrender—to the enemy, or to death.

I turn my attention back to the training stations. It's about time for me to demonstrate my own abilities for the sake of intimidation. I'll need a weapon I am good with, as well as a big enough crowd watching.

The only station meeting those requirements is maces, so I march over there.

The few tributes there, the 8's and the boy from 12, step aside as I enter. The instructor, knowing my district, skips the lightweight replica of the weaponry and starts me off with the real thing.

I look around the station. There are a few dummies without legs or arms and only held up by metal stands positioned about, and the only other objects in the area are tributes. Considering it's vastly against the rules to target the tributes—as of the next three days, at least—I turn to the dummies.

Snapping my arm back quickly enough to make my weapon look weightless, I grunt, swinging the mace forward and ripping through the threads of the nearest mannequin, sending its yellowish clumps of stuffing flying away.

Though I don't quite turn to see the other tributes, out of the corner of my eye I can see the 12 grimace.

But a frown from one member of the audience isn't enough.

What else could I do here, though, with such limited resources? The only things around are the mannequins and their stands...

I pull my arm back again, then swing hard, aiming a little lower than I had last time. The mace makes a resounding clang against the metal of the stand, and the dummy topples over, revealing a sizeable dent in its iron support.

I rest the dull handle of my weapon on my shoulder and turn to see the tributes' reactions.

The 12 is now trembling, but I can tell he's trying to smother it. The boy from 8 is veritably stunned, while his district partner looks scared.

"Time for lunch!" I turn to see who called—the Capitol official.

Handing the mace back over to the assistant, I file into a line for lunch, gather my food, and seat myself. The other Careers sit next to me, the boy from 1 on one side and the girl from 4 on my other.

"Ve, your name's Lude, right?" I set my fork down and slowly turn behind me to see the boy from 6.

"Yes, that's correct." I turn back to my lunch, but before I can stab more meat onto my fork, I'm interrupted again.

"My name's Ciano!"

"Nice to... meet you," I reply slowly, not sure what I'm supposed to respond with.

"You, too!" There's silence, and I heave an inaudible sigh of relief that he's done. I fork a good bite of chicken, but don't get the chance to stick it in my mouth.

"Wanna be friends?"

What did he just say?

"...What?" I turn around to look back at the kid.

"I said, do you want to be friends?"

"Um..."

The guy from District 1 bursts out laughing. "Seriously? What kind of question is that? You're gonna be out of the competition right after it starts, Ciano!" He keeps laughing, and the few Careers that joined him earlier trail off.

Well, he's not lying. A skinny, perky guy like this isn't going to win the Hunger Games.

"Well, you don't have to ally with me," Ciano starts. "I just wanna be friends."

The 1 boy starts up with another wave of laughter, but I stay silent.

What could possibly be Ciano's motive? He can't seriously just be wanting a friend...

I mean, that kind of thing is useless. I've never needed friends. And I'm perfectly fine with that.

Perfectly... fine...

Corianne File, District 2

This Ciano guy's a weirdo. He just introduces himself and asks to be friends with my district partner? All right, kid, I don't know what you're used to, but this is the effing Hunger Games. There are no friends here.

Yup. No friends. Just alliances that shatter at the slightest touch.

"...All right." I look up from my chicken pot pie, confused. Did Lude just say...?

"Ah! Really?" Ciano chirps.

"Whaaat?" Alf from 1 responds. "You can't be serious! You wanna be friends with a loser like him?"

"Well, what's the difference?" Lude retorts. "If he's going to be dead in a few days, anyway, what's it matter to you?"

Half of Alf's mouth dips into a quizzical frown, and he doesn't reply.

"Okay! Can I sit here, then?" Ciano asks, putting his lunch tray across from Lude.

"Sure." Lude drums his fingers on the table, with an expression that shows he's not as convinced this "friendship" thing is such a good idea after all.

Ciano dominates the conversation for the rest of lunch, talking about completely random and pointless things. Of course, the Career pack this year doesn't seem like the type to discuss strategy over tea, so what do I care?

It's not like we all don't have the same strategy, anyway. Run around at night to hunt, kill whoever we find whenever we find them, and once the number of tributes is down enough, kill everybody else and go home.

And only one of us will finish that strategy through.

I know it'll be me.

Yeah, yeah, every Career thinks they're going to win, I know. But I have reasons.

One, I'm strong. Alf and Lude have more muscle than me, but that's no problem. I'll just have to figure out a way to make the playing field my advantage.

Two, I'm good with pretty much every weapon. Sure, Japan is a whiz kid with his swords and Lude can put a dent in solid metal with his mace, but if they don't have their weapons of choice, they're not going to do well. "But, of course they'll have their weapons of choice!" you may object. "They have access to the Cornucopia, and their sponsors!" Well, I'll tell you what. While they're asleep and I'm on watch, I have just as much access to their weapons. And when the time comes, those shiny things'll go bye-bye. And I'll be able to use whatever weapons are left. So I win.

Three, I like the Games. Yeah, pretty much every Career tribute does, but why? Because their mommies and daddies said it was cool? Because they want the money, or the fame? Well, I like the Hunger Games because of the slaughter. I may not be some bloodthirsty psycho, but I still think the whole thing's pretty cool. And a sense of joy and purpose is going to help everything.

But, in the end, the reasons don't matter. All that matters is that...

I.

Win.