Iridi Lotu, 17, District 1 Male
I groggily wipe the sleep from my eyes as the clock beeps loudly, intending to do so until my fist bangs down on that off button. I do just that, silencing it until tomorrow. The clock itself tells me that I have a few hours until training, so I rise and open my bedroom door, shivering as a gust of cold air blows on me.
I realize that it's coming from an open window, allowing the crisp air to get inside. I quickly shut it, taking in the Capitol's skyline. It's multi colored, almost like a rainbow. Besides the fact that this city is filled with idiots, it's picturesque.
"Iridi? What are you doing up?"
Arista's tired voice fills my ears, and I turn around to see her rubbing her eyes while tying a nightgown, her caramel brown hair a mess.
"My clock woke me up," I tell her. "And I want to chill a little before training." Arista gives me a sideways look.
"Here, all of your focus should be on training, Iridi." she mumbles. I scoff at her, slumping down in a chair.
"Can't a man have fun? It isn't even the Games yet," I retort, my back facing her.
"Don't come crying to me when you score an 8." she snaps at me. I make an exaggerated gasp.
"Why, that would be a personal insult!" I sit back in the plush recliner, ignoring Arista's demands and insults.
"Not listening, not listening, not listening…" I babble at her, plugging my ears.
Quincy Aubergine, 12, District 11 Female
I had woken up awhile ago, watching the morning news of some Capitol network. Their main focus right now is the Games, of course, and they are exhausting the topic. Endlessly quacking about how the Careers looks so "badass" this year, and how there are so many. I just click the TV off, putting on my socks.
"Quincy! Are you awake, dear?" our escort asks me.
"I am now," I mutter through the door, finding that breakfast is already laid out.
"Galvan has been waiting for you," she tells me, and I see Galvan at the table, politely eating his breakfast with utensils, in contrast to how I dine, simply shoveling the stuff in my mouth with no silverware.
"So, Quince," Galvan asks me, "what are you going to focus on today?" I just shrug, taking a bite out of an apple.
"Eh, not sure," I say with a mouth full of apple, "I might just do survival. The Careers won't like the sight of a twelve year old trying out weapons," I complain. I mostly hid yesterday, because I am a little more scared of the Careers than I thought.
"We can do it together, the Careers won't bother us if we look confident and aren't alone." he suggests. I light up, beaming at Galvan.
"That would be great!" I say happily, finishing my breakfast. I notice the absence of someone who should be with us at all times.
"Hey, where's Autumn and Liam?" I ask the escort whose name I can't seem to remember. She tells me that they are out on "business" but I'm having a hard time believing that.
"Oh, okay," I say, seemingly not caring. Galvan says we should get down to training. I wave goodbye to the escort, hopping into the elevator, pressing a button marked TC, or "Training Center." We whoosh downward, Galvan hanging onto the railing for support. I notice when we are side by side, strangely enough, he isn't much taller than I am. I maybe reach his shoulders, but luckily, I'm not the smallest twelve-year-old in the Games. The girl from 6, who's 13, is smaller than me, even.
The main trainer does not repeat her speech as it is the second day, but reminds us that the private sessions are tomorrow. The tributes disperse, spreading to different stations. Galvan and I tag close to each other, and I instantly relax.
Lyndon Orange, 16, District 8 Male
Breakfast was fine. Chiffon suggested that I didn't go to training at all. Is this woman nuts? I'm not sure that she realizes that this few days could save my life. She kept telling me to "make a statement". I don't think I'm as rebellious as her, or my mom.
I hear the doors slide open, which took my partner and I to the Training center. Incy, as she told me to call her, holds my hand and guides me to what I am assuming is the snare-building station.
"It is," Incy assures, grabbing my left hand and touching it to rough wood.
"See?" she asks. I jokingly shake my head, and she just scoffs. The trainer at this station explains how to snares work, and I admittedly doze off.
Stop it, Lyndon, this could save your goddamn life, I tell myself, forcing my brain to pay attention to this somewhat drab lesson. But Incy seems to get it, because I keep hearing her mutter in agreement. I try my best to retain the facts thrown at me, like how much wood to use, how tight to make the ropes, how visible it should be.
"Now, you try." the trainer lady tells either me or Incy. Silence fills the air until Incy tabs my shoulder harshly.
"You," she whispers, and I jolt up, blindly feeling around me until my hand enclosed around a piece of wood.
"Now, do as you were instructed." says the trainer.
I carefully bind the wood together with thin rope, tightening it, and so on. I am helped by my partner the entire time, something the trainer might not have been aware of, because she claps, telling me that I am surprisingly well at this. Incy giggles, getting up to seemingly find her own station to work at. I'm starting to get used to her presence, because I feel slightly disheartened when I hear her footsteps get quieter and quieter.
Tyssa Woods, 15, District 5 Female
"I'm going to feed all of Panem, just you wait and see, Tyssa!" Meric exclaims as we depart the elevator.
"Good luck, Meric," I say dryly, "literally everyone is starving." He snickers in response, proclaiming that pessimism will get you nowhere. I guess he's assuming that he will do this if he wins. Victors need to take up a hobby, and I guess his would be feeding the poor.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see no one at the throwing knives station, the weapon I have decided to use in the Games.
"Hey, Meric, we should try the throwing knife station!" I squeal. He gives me an uneasy look, seeing that the Careers are dangerously close, but eventually agrees after they migrate to a station farther away. He mumbles something under his breath, but I couldn't hear.
"Alright. You go first," he tells me. Surprised, I pick up a pile of sharp knives, slicing into my pinkie in the process, but I don't really care. Blood stains one of the blades I am prepared to whish at the target. I chuck it with all my might, but it doesn't even reach close to the target. Instead, it clatters to the floor much too loudly. I awkwardly grab another knife, not looking in Meric's direction, but someone grabs my shoulder.
"Your form is a little off, sweetie." A random voice tells me, and I whip around to find a short woman with many piercings smiling at me. She grips my waist and turns it gently so I am facing slightly sideways, in contrast to when I was front-facing.
"Now, try. Make sure to spin the blade a little." she instructs me. I throw it yet again, only instead of just falling, it actually hits the target. It doesn't pierce it, but at least it traveled a little farther.
"Good," she says, satisfied. "Try at that for an hour or so and you'll get the hang of it." She turns to Meric, who is fiddling with a knife.
"Do you need help, young man?" the woman asks him, and he excitedly nods as she begins to explain the basics to him, as well. He attempts to hit the bullseye but doesn't come close. Instead of getting angry, however, he simply takes a deep breath and grabs another one.
"I'll figure this out," he mumbles, "maybe a kitchen knife translates to a throwing knife."
Atticus Faux, 16, District 9 Male
Citlali is getting the hang of camouflage, but I can't seem to get it right. I kept trying and trying, but my shade was never right, my texture was never accurate. I will clearly not wow the Gamemakers with my camo skills.
I wonder how my siblings are doing. Calic, Audra, and Levinia. I wonder if they are already being crushed by the cruelty of the orphanage. I would normally have no motivation to go home, but I feel like I have to, for them. They could come live with me in my Victor's village house.
Petal said that I shouldn't score too low, but I also don't want to score too high. Citlali said that the Careers will target the weakest as well as the strongest.
"I'm gonna go and train at hand-to-hand combat," Citlali tells me, jogging off to the station located across the entire Training Center.
"Do you wish to try shelter-building?" a man says to me, as I realize that I am standing right in front of the station.
"Oh, uh, sure." I tell him, twiddling with a piece of moss. He tells me that the shelter isn't meant to look pretty, but provide protection against the rain and such.
"Make it big enough to fit yourself only." he tells me. I take some tiny twigs, stacking them on top of each other to create a sort of criss-cross.
"No, no, no," the man tells me, knocking over my shelter. I can almost feel the steam coming from my ears. He rebuilds the wall I had made, instead making it grid-like. He tells me to build up until it fits my entire body.
"Yes, your Majesty," I whisper, annoyed, gently stacking up my twigs like he tells me to. When I'm done, the result is a ramshackle hut that seems like luxury compared to what some of the poor people in the slums pass for a house.
"Get inside, please," the trainer tells me, and I do, struggling inside my hut until just my head is sticking out.
"What am I-"
Without warning, a bucket of ice-cold water splashes onto my hut, seeping through the cracks. My shelter may have been worse than I thought, because I'm soaked.
"Tsk, tsk." says the man.
A disappointed clicking of the tongue from the trainer is the last thing I hear as I rush away, embarrassed and wet.
The odds of the tributes have not changed.
Training Day 2! Why did it take so long? Finals week. Need I say more? XD but seriously, sorry for the wait, next chapter will be the Gamemaker's recordings of what the tributes showed them in their private sessions. Good luck to all the tributes!
-Maia