We Live to Die Another Day

by Sexy-Foxface

No one ever thinks death will come. No one ever really realizes the darkness of the world. No one was ever suspecting this. The 122nd Annual Hunger Games; 24 go in, but only one will have the honor of winning. The strong one crumbled. The one who had everything together fell to pieces. The unbreakable one broke. The quiet one screamed inside. No one is safe; not even the innocent.

21. Prime Target: Training Scores

The answer to my previous trivia question was: The Capitol bow she used was heavier than the bow she was used to using.

The receivers of those points were Munamana who answered first and got six sponsor points. The following three each received four sponsor points: i-am-foxface, Fleur-WickedWitchOfBeauxbatons and KitKat2014.

The scores that each tribute received can be found at the end of this chapter! Now I did modify a few of the training scores to what I think is realistic :3

I would watch out for those tributes that did well in their training ;)

District 1 female tribute – Age seventeen – Phoenix "Foe" Sterling's point of view

A buzz of silent tension snakes its way through the hallway, as we await the moment our names are called. I flick a piece of hair out of my eyes; many would be lead to believe that being the first to present I would be nervous, but those idiots do not know me very well. I am ready for this moment; I am ready to show the Gamemakers that I am not one to be messed with. I am willing to play in their twisted games, but they will soon learn they will be playing by my rules and my rules alone. I am no puppet to be used by their twisted whims; I am here by my own lack in judgment, but I have all the means to make it back home.

A small smirk tugs at my lips at the thought of becoming this year's victor. We all dream of that moment where the announcement of this year's victor is made; the moment the sound of our own name is caught up along the blood scented breeze. I am willing to kill; a quality many here will not admit that they possess. When pushed to our limits some of us are capable of just about anything, but it is those of us who don't have to be pushed to our limits to realize what we are capable of who are the real threats. I breathe out sharply, as I am starting to grow impatient. I want the moment where I step into the gymnasium to be thrust upon me; I want the moment where I will set the bar to finally arrive.

I glance over towards Dapar who appears calm and confident on the outside, but I can only hope a slight worry tugs at his insides. I have been playing him since day one, but this fact still remains unknown to him. He really believes I have intentions of holding onto our promise of making it to the final two, but I have other plans. I will dispose of him when I see fit, but until then let the games continue to play out. Cruel it may seem to use another human being to further myself, but in my eyes my own life is more valuable. I am not here out of a death sentence; I am not here to protect anyone. I am here to prove to this world we call Panem that I am no bloodbath, I am a victor.

Dapar catches my gaze and his signature charming smile spreads its way across his lips, "You nervous at all?" I snort in response to his question. "Why the hell would I be nervous?" My voice is laced in a confidence that I know I will be able to back up. Many tributes here know how to run their mouths, but when put to the test they will come up short. This however works in my favour; the less real competition in these games the sooner I can return home.

"Well you know it's a normal emotion to feel right now I suppose," He says with a slight shrug of his shoulders. I just roll my eyes in response; not once have I felt that emotion tingeing my very being. There is nothing to be nervous about in this moment; all I need to focus on is the familiar sensation of my knives held tightly between my clutches. The quiet chatter instantly comes to a complete silence the moment the sound of heels clicking against the tiled floor tears through the air. A tall woman with long lavender hair that twists in tattered curls stands before us with her lips pursed together. "Phoenix Sterling," I growl quietly under my breath at the sound of my name. "It's Foe," I answer back coolly to the tall woman.

"Good luck," Dapar says with a slight smile. "Luck is for losers so save it for some pathetic tribute that actually needs it," I say to him over my shoulder with a small confident smirk dancing across my lips. I push the doors to the gymnasium open and instantly all eyes are drawn to my direction. There are advantages to being the first private session; the Gamemakers have not grown bored yet and being a career they must know I carry some promise. A show is what they desire and a show is exactly what they are about to get.

I lift my head up and my entire demeanor screams a deadly confidence. "No other training session will even pale in comparison to what it is you are about to see," My words have them intrigued on what it is I am capable of doing. I shall leave them hooked; leave them wanting to see more. I stride across the room straight towards the knife throwing station, my boots pounding loudly against the floor. My eyes catch sight of the knives that glimmer playfully in the light; just waiting for the moment where I shall claim them as my own. I allow my fingertips to graze over the flawless steel if only for the briefest of moments before I slip at least a dozen slender throwing knives into my belt. I pick up one blade and throw it up before I twirl around catching it easily and slip it into my boot. I pick up two more blades and make my way towards the center of the room.

I twirl the knives gracefully between my fingers, as I bring my arms up so they are above my head. "Don't think I will fall victim to your games," My voice cuts through the air sharper than any blade, as I allow my eyes to fall close. "I have some games of my own to play," The moment these words slip free from my lips I snap my eyes open and bring my arms down in one strong movement. The blades I once held between my clutches go soaring across the room and cut through the bonds that held up several punching bags in the hand to hand combat station across the room. The bags crash to the floor, as the knives continue their path until they land into the eyes of a dummy a vast distance away from my form.

The Gamemakers don't blink once, as I begin running across the room towards the hand to hand combat station. I hold my breath, as I will my body to bend so my hands come into contact with the floor. I use this momentum to flip my body over; twisting in the air until my feet solidly land back on the floor. I perform this same motion once again, but this time as I am suspended in the air I remove the knife from my boot and allow it to fly free from my grasps. It lands dead center in a target across the room, but I do not stop to take in my perfectly clean shot.

This is when I am in my element; this is when I feel as if no one could possibly touch me. This is when a girl becomes one with her knives. As I reach the hand to hand combat station I begin twisting and turning my body, as if I was a part of a deadly dance. I display that even in close range I will easily be able to bring down anyone who dares to even touch me. One by one I remove the knives from my belt and throw them with a deadly accuracy to a variety of targets in the room; the only aspect that really matters is that each one hits dead center. With a set of knives in my possession no one will ever be safe.

I flick my last knife through my fingers, coming dangerously close to allowing my blade to feed off of my own flesh. "This is not over confidence that you are paying witness to," I throw my final knife so it soars over a rack of swords, just scrapping against their pointed steel causing sparks to dance through the air, before my knife comes into contact with the soft neck of a dummy. "Just a girl who knows exactly what it is she is doing," Before the Gamemakers can speak I am striding across the room towards the door. I walk through the pooling crimson of fake blood that spills onto the floor from one of my shots; only a few more days and this will be real. If only that moment could come sooner.

District 2 male tribute – Age seventeen – Morgan Scott's point of view

I cross my arms firmly across my chest, with my features drawn out in a look of boredom. I could care less about proving myself to the Gamemakers; I could care less about my score even if it could aid or hinder me in the long run. The only thing that I need is a wickedly sharp blade; with a sword held between my clutches I will behead those who stand in my way. I glance over at Kenzi who is continuously bouncing up and down on her heels; she is one of the many tributes here who I believe the only place in this world they hold is being the dirt beneath my boots. An annoyance she has been since the moment she rejected my proposal of an alliance; let her run herself into the ground, it won't bother me in the slightest.

"What are you looking at?" Kenzi says with a raised eyebrow once she notices my gaze. "I haven't quite figured that out yet," I respond coolly. She clenches her fists, but remains quiet and keeps an icy glare prominent upon her features. One look in her eyes and I know she will be the one who desires to spill my blood, but she wouldn't be the only one. There is the pathetic boy from District Nine who dared to challenge me; the stupidity of these people astounds me in some cases. Almost everyone here in some way has placed a target upon their back; either by being arrogant and hot headed or by merely being stupid.

My memory floats back to the end of our last day of training and the words that spilt from the female tribute of District Elevens mouth. A faint scowl dances across my features at the thought of this memory. She really believes that someone from a lower District can overpower us; if only she realized just how wrong she was. There is a reason most careers are volunteers; there is a reason most victors are careers. Those from the lower Districts who have been bestowed with the title of victor won based on luck and luck alone.

The sound of sharp heels against the tiled floor draws everyone's attention towards the front of the hall where we all wait impatiently, with our nerves buzzing in a manner that threatens to push some over the edge. The tall woman pushes her tangled curls away from her face before she speaks, "Phoenix Sterling." Foe steps free from the line, but when she turns around to speak to her District partner she clearly wears a prominent confident smirk. "Luck is for losers so save it for some pathetic tribute that actually needs it," I roll my eyes at her words, as she disappears behind the heavy metal doors that lead towards the gymnasium.

The next few minutes seem to drag by at an unbearably slow pace. I contemplate walking off and returning to my District floor, as I really could care less about my training score, but this could be my last real chance to intimidate those I will soon have to cut down. "Kenzi Rodgers," The sharp tone of the tall woman tears through the air once more snapping me back into my reality. "Break a leg," I say to her with a hint of sarcasm dripping in my voice.

"Another comment like that and you'll be the one with a broken leg," She snaps back before she walks through the metal doors. I close my eyes for a moment and that is when I see her eyes; the one girl I loved, the one girl who destroyed my heart. Perhaps she is the real reason as to why I am so cold; perhaps I am just trying to place the blame of who I am on her. The only thing that I can take from being hurt from her is that the Capitol can no longer hurt me since I was broken to begin with.

"Morgan Scott," My eyes snap back open at the sound of my name being called out. I walk forward with a look of boredom still playing across my features. I push open the doors and pay no attention to the Gamemakers watching me intently. My size gives off the promise that I will be a tribute to watch out for, but I still don't pay the slightest attention to those who could possibly grant a high score upon me. In my opinion they don't deserve an ounce of my attention; neither of us wants to be here so why go about pretending to be civil.

I stride across the room until I reach the sword station. I don't hesitate before I grab the most lethal looking blade my eyes fall upon. My breathing remains calm and my features uncaring, as I make my way towards a group of dummies. The first strike is simple and almost graceful in a sense. My blade cleanly cuts through the air; leaving a thin, but deep slash mark branded into the dummies throat. This sight causes a frown to tug at my lips, as I know I can cause much more havoc. This is the moment of what I am capable of doing comes out to play; the moment where I give into the destruction that calls me forth.

I swing around, twirling my blade dangerously close to my own throat. I can feel the cool air my blade creates gently caress my skin, but this only causes a bubble of excitement to broil to my surface. It is when I am in this moment where my uncaring demeanor is shattered; where my true career side is brought to light. I kick out with my leg with enough strength to send the dummy it comes into contact with crashing to the ground. I swipe my sword cleanly across the ground, causing the head of the dummy to roll lazily across the floor. My feet glide across the floor in a network of complicated steps before I slash out burrowing my sword deep into the skull of a dummy. I pull my arms upwards tearing the dummy clean off of its post. In a swift moment I bring the dummy back down smashing its skull off the ground. My dull blue eyes burn with a fire that rarely graces their surface.

A deep pool of fake blood has already begun to pool around my feet and several of the Gamemakers wear unsettled expressions. As I bring my death dance to a close I whip around one last time striking my blade through the stomach of a dummy straight up to its neck. Fake blood sprays everywhere and clings to my skin desperately. I don't bother to wipe this substance from my face, as I turn to face the Gamemakers. "I don't want to be here anymore than you do, but that doesn't mean I won't be one to watch out for," My voice is daunting, but still holds an uncaring edge to it. I throw my stained sword to floor, allowing the clattering noise of metal against tile to tear through the silent air.

"Thank you, you may go," One of the Gamemakers says to me and I don't hesitate for a moment before I am out the door. It is those moments where I shatter my uncaring bored shell where I am in my most dangerous state. The mutilated dummies that I left in pieces are proof of that. I never chose to be here, but that doesn't mean I am going to go down without a fight. I may be broken, but what could the harm of a little more damage possibly do to me?

District 4 female tribute – Age seventeen – Vencitiy Corbinette's point of view

I tap my fingertips restlessly against the table, while the buzzing of chatter fills the dining room. I barely bother to pay attention while Theo boasts about how well his private session went. "I hope you get a less than average score," I mutter beneath my breath, which in return earns me a sharp look from my mentor Kaino. Kaino and I have not seen eye to eye from the moment I was lucky enough to get reaped. He has picked up the habit of commenting on every little mistake I make; a habit that I look upon with disdain. He may have won his games by being the most brutal of tributes, but my plan is to gracefully flit through these games without even breaking a sweat.

I brush off this look dismissively, as I continue to absentmindedly push my food around my plate. All I want in this moment is to have the scores revealed to us; to prove that I am more than just a pretty face. A wicked smile creeps across my features at the memory of the stunned Gamemakers, as they paid witness to me tearing apart each and every dummy that stood in my way; using only the simple blade of a knife. These talents that I harbour are not unknown to my fellow tributes; it was never in my intentions to keep them a secret.

Beauty and skills is what I possess; the perfect deadly combination. I grow tired of listening to Theo go on about how he is sure he will achieve the highest score and I decide to make my way towards the sitting room. I walk gracefully across the carpeted floor and sink down into the plush couch. I run my hands through my silky hair before I get the eerie feeling that I am no longer alone. I turn around to see Kaino towering in the doorway. He strides across the room and claims a chair across from me as his own. "Is there a reason as to why you are in here on your own?" He asks with a raised eyebrow.

"I was tired of listening to Theo talk about himself," I say with a slight shrug of my shoulders. I thought I talked about my own being a lot, but after meeting Theo I have learned I am not the only one who holds onto a great self-worth. "I realize he is difficult to get along with, but you need to learn to put up with him; you two are still in an alliance whether you like it you not," He says coolly. I open my mouth to say something, but I quickly close my mouth the moment Theo enters the room with his own mentor.

We all sit around the large screen until it begins to flicker with life. A perky woman with vibrant pink hair appears on screen, with a large smile dancing across her features. "Welcome Panem, tonight you have the great honor of being able to pay witness to the scores each tribute received from their private session. Each tribute is given a number from the range of one to twelve; one being despicably low while twelve on the other hand is unachievably high. You can be sure that you will want to pay attention to those tributes that scored well," Her image slowly dissolves away, as the Capitol anthem begins to play. The seal of the Capitol glows brightly for a moment before it disappears in soft ripples.

The image of the female tribute Foe from District One is displayed first, along with her training score. "A ten," I mutter beneath my breath. A frown plays across my lips at this sight; she may pose as a threat, but I will easily work around this. I don't pay as much attention as I should to the following scores. They don't intimidate me in the least; I am confident in what I can do and don't need to worry myself with what some of my other tributes may be capable of. My breath catches in my throat the moment my own image fades onto the screen. "An eight; I could have done better," A small frown tugs at my lips, but Kaino gives me a small nod of approval. No, that is not the best I could have done, but it is the average career score at least. Perhaps I will lead the other's to believe I was holding back; only giving them a quick glance to what it is I am really capable of.

"Naturally I didn't show them everything I was capable of doing; I have to keep some tricks hidden up my sleeves," A small smirk tugs at my lips, but Theo holds up his hand to motion me into silence. A scowl dances its way across my features, but all comments laced with venom that would escape my lips are cut off by the sounds of Theo cheering confidently. I turn towards the screen and see what it is that has caught everyone's attention. Theo has somehow managed to score an eleven. I cross my arms over my chest and lean back against the couch; appearing uninterested by the events swirling around me.

Let him celebrate for now, but with a score like that the other careers won't hesitate to help me with the art of stabbing him in the back when he least expects it. Theo turns to face me with a deadly smile laced across his lips, "This is why I am the leader and don't you go thinking stabbing me in the back will be that easy. I have perfected the art of sleeping with one eye open." I roll my eyes in response, but silence instantly creeps its way across the walls the moment the scores of the District Five tributes are shown.

"How the hell did he score a ten?" Theo glares at the image of the District Five boy and I find myself wondering the same question. I barely remember him from training, as he was no interest to me; then again there were very few tributes this year that held the promise of being some form of entertainment to me. "That pathetic little scums life is mine," Theo growls beneath his breath.

"Not if I get to him first," My tone holds a dangerous edge; my words are meant to unsettle Theo, to work their way beneath his skin was their intentions. He wipes around to face me with a burning fire gleaming in his eyes. I find myself narrowing my eyes in an icy glare; engaging myself in another conflict with my arrogant District partner. Our mentors instantly sense the growing tension and step between us. "Save it for the arena; how many times must we tell you two this?" Kaino says with a slight annoyance dripping in his tone.

I turn my attention back towards the screen; pretending to pay attention once more, but in reality my mind has drifted to elsewhere. I want Theo out of my way more than anything else, but I know he will be of some use to me in the beginning. Let him play out this role of the arrogant leader; I know even the strong shall fall and I will be sure to be the one who pushes him over the edge.

District 5 male tribute – Age eighteen - Pike River's point of view

The image of the District Four boy slowly dissolves into nothing; leaving a dreading silence intertwining its way across the walls. An eleven is a score not easily achieved, but from day one it has been clear that he would be one to watch out for. However I know if he even attempts to place a hand on Alexia I will end him before he can even understand exactly what it is happening; his head will be strewn across the grass before he can finish taking his last breath. Alexia places her hand on my knee the moment her picture is displayed. I don't hesitate before I place my hand over hers; disregarding the looks of disapproval my mentor Corinth continuously shoots my way. Let him look upon this display with disdain; he should realize it won't change anything.

We have not discussed the kiss we shared since the moment it happened, but it is clear that it is still a thought that runs rampant across both of our minds. I hold onto a red hot desire to press my lips against her once more, but with eyes trained on us at almost every moment I have not had the opportunity to experiment with the rules once more. I have accepted the fact that I shall lose my life in only a few days' time; I want to experience what it is I could possibly have before it is too late. The score of an eight is clearly shown beside Alexia's picture and a triumphant smile dances across her lips. "I guess you threw those spears better than you were letting on," I tell her, as I lightly squeeze her hand.

She glances up at me; her eyes sparkling proudly, "Well at least the other tributes know I'm not out of the count yet." If only she could see she was never out of the count; not even in the beginning. With me by her side willing to lay down my life for her at the blink of an eye, she has anyways stood a better chance of emerging victor than the rest. A deadly combination of nobility and stupidity is what my leading actions have been labelled as. At least I will be dying for a purpose and not because I never had a choice. My attention is drawn back towards the screen set out before us, as I await the moment my score is displayed for all of Panem to pay witness to. I am not expecting an above average score; I displayed what I could do and nothing more or less.

The moment my picture is displayed along with my score the entire room explodes in excitement. "How?" Alexia's mentor Lucia asks with a tone of astonishment, as her eyes remain glued to my training score. "How the hell did they think what I did was worth a ten?" I say my thoughts aloud. I think back to my private session and go over every little detail. How is it that the Gamemakers took in what I did with such interest? I can see the dummies I set up; I can see the names of each career that I painted upon their chests. I destroyed each of those dummies in the most brutal of ways I was able to. I told the Gamemakers not even the careers would stand in my way of getting Alexia home. They saw the fight that I possessed; the raw determination that I held dear.

"Don't question it; just accept that you did better than most," Alexia smiles softly before she leans up to lightly kiss my cheek. "Congratulations," She murmurs softly, as a faint blush dances across her cheeks. I can feel the eyes of our mentors glued to our forms, but I will that feeling to blur away from me so it is only her and I present in this moment. Before I can allow a single word to escape my lips Corinth grabs a hold of my arm and drags me out into the hall; leaving a confused Alexia in our wake. I tear my arm away from him the moment he slams the door closed behind us. I have just about had it with him and his constant warnings not to get myself mixed up with something deadly. He should know I hold no intentions of making it home so he should give up on playing the role of a mentor, who just wants to help his tribute to live to see another sunrise.

"You are not going to say a word for the next five minutes; you are going to bloody listen and I am going to somehow get some sense through that thick skull of yours," Corinth's tone holds an undeniable edge to it and the look in his eyes screams that he is not impressed. I cross my arms and lean back against the wall; my intentions on being only half listening to what it is he has to say.

"You really don't get it do you? This is not about stupid and petty emotions anymore; this is about you getting her out of here alive and if you want to do so you need to ditch her after the bloodbath," I look at him in disbelief the moment his sentence comes to an end. Leaving her after the bloodbath would leave her alone and venerable. I can't even begin to see how Corinth could believe this would work in her favour.

"How the bloody hell is that going to help get her out-" Corinth cuts me off before I can say anything else.

"With a training score of ten you have now become a prime target to the careers. It happens every year; those who do well in training are the first to die by the hands of the careers. They will hunt you down and with her being with you she will have just as big as a target as you do. They will find you and use her against you. In the end they will kill you both. If you want to get her out alive you need to ditch her during the bloodbath and make sure the careers know this, that way they will be after your trail and not hers," The moment his words draw to their end a silence washes over the surrounding area.

I say nothing, as I carefully mull over his words. After only a few short moments I sharply shake my head no. "I am not abandoning her," I say firmly, in a tone that hints that there will be no changing my mind once this decision has been made. "Your being an idiot; I just hope you realize that before it's too late," Corinth shakes his head lightly before he walks back into the sitting room. He is doing his job to aid us, but I refuse to go along with his plan. If I was to abandon her and something was to happen that I could have prevented if I was only there, I would never be able to live with myself.

I slowly begin to become frustrated with myself, as the realization of what I have done begins to wash over me. I whip around smashing my fist against the wall, as a string of sharp tongued curses escape my lips. I never held onto the desire to draw unwanted attention towards myself, but I have done so unwillingly. I don't even notice her walk into the hall, but the sweet sound of her voice draws me back into my reality. "Pike?" Alexia walks closer to me and without hesitation wraps her arms around me. I breathe out slowly before I loop my arms around her waist, pulling her closer to my body.

"I'm not leaving you in the arena no matter what he says," I say after a few moments of silence. Neither of us dares to break away, as we both realize this is one of the last times we will ever be able to hold onto a connection such as this.

"I'm still not okay with you dying for me," Alexia mumbles into my chest. I gently run my hand through her hair before I speak, "It is my decision to do so Alexia. I am dying for a purpose so you need to learn to accept it." We both fall silent, but remain in our sweet embrace. If only the daunting thought that I will soon have to let go of her forever would vanish; to be lost amongst the howls of the wind.

Training Scores

District One

Phoenix 'Foe' Sterling: 10

Dapar Radsha: 8

District Two

Kenzi Rodgers: 8

Morgan Scott: 9

District Three

Kallina Censura: 9

Benji Jenkins: 2

District Four

Vencitiy Corbinette: 8

Theo Macdonald: 11

District Five

Alexia Tide: 8

Pike Rivers: 10

District Six

Nelira Blue: 8

Collin Wrathers: 6

District Seven

Ayla Treleve: 5

Hadrian Xander: 5

District Eight

Rylinn Abrith: 7

Shohn Vekriss: 4

District Nine

Astoria Delacorte: 6

Nathan Ripley: 6

District Ten

Cassie Hughes: 7

Buck Wolfe: 8

District Eleven

Hadley June Chevalier: 6

Bryson Weatthers: 4

District Twelve

Bluebell Hart: 9

Alexander Devin Blake: 6

Hopefully your tribute scored alright, but remember just because a tribute scores high doesn't mean they will necessarily make it far or if they scored low doesn't necessarily mean they will be one of the firsts to go ;D

Now here is your sponsor question!

At the end of Mockingjay what District did Gale move to?

The first to answer correctly will receive six sponsor points and the next three to answer correctly will receive four sponsor points!