Euonymus Flax-18 (D11M)

Part of me wishes that all of my training was as structured and well-managed as the first hour or so of the day is. And not just because I've always sort of craved, and to a lesser extent sort of enjoyed, the recognition and pride I always seem to feel when I'm told just how good of a job I did by whoever happens to be in charge of whatever it is that I'm doing.

That's obviously a part of it, don't get me wrong. But it's only half the reason. And if I'm being honest with myself, it's also the slightly less important and self-serving half. While the other, slightly more important, and self-serving half of things, is my need, not desire, but need, to know what everyone's expectations for me are. Because understanding what's expected of me is the only way I can properly set my sights on the perfection I expect, and in some cases even demand, of myself.

That's why I love being a writer so much. I'm the one that sets the baseline expectations, so I know going in what I have to do in order to be perfect. And there's nothing quite like the thrill of finishing up a book and sending it in to be edited, or published, and knowing that it is in fact perfect. Just like there's nothing quite like the ego bump you get from being told as much once the book is actually edited or published. Especially when you live for the recognition that comes with being perfect.

Unfortunately, my chances to feel the sense of pride and accomplishment that comes from being perfect, have been somewhat lacking since I arrived in the Capitol. And while the majority of the things I've done so far during training, be it knife combat, trap building, first aid, and even fire starting, have been done with an acceptable level of competence. They've been far from perfect.

Which is why, despite knowing full well that it's a stupidly unproductive waste of my time, I keep coming back to the one station in the room I've actually been able to master up to this point. And running it over and over again.

A fact that I'm almost positive hasn't gone unnoticed by the unsurprisingly quiet but deceptively sharp old woman who runs the stupid station.

"Look, I hate to ask this since I get so few visitors as it is.

"But is there a reason you keep coming back to run through this station, kid?"

See.

"I um… I beg your pardon, ma'am?"

"I asked if there was a reason you kept coming back to run through this station?

"I mean, the first time you tried the exercise out you managed to master it on the highest difficulty setting it has. And you did so in record time."

"I remember that.

"The look of shocked disbelief on your face when my perfect scored popped up on the screen after I zipped through the quiz without stopping to blink was kind of cool."

"I'm sure it was. But that doesn't change the fact that you've already mastered this station.

"And since there's no in real game benefit for being the fastest tribute on the edible plant and berries based logic puzzle. I can't for the life of me figure out why you keep coming back here to run through the stupid thing over and over again.

"Hell, most tributes only run this thing once or twice no matter how good or bad their scores are. But you've run it at least a dozen times already and are apparently intent on running it at least once more."

I don't for the life of me know how I'm supposed to respond to that last part. Which is unusual for me, because I've almost always got some misdirection filled but still perfectly serviceable and legitimate, response tucked away in my back pocket for situations just like this.

But for some odd reason, none of them seem all that interested in springing out of the yawning chasm that is my brain to save me. Which means I have two options left to me. Tell her the truth, which I'm not all that high on in this particular case. Or pretend not to have heard her at all and just sort of hope she takes the hint and leaves me alone.

Which even I know has about as much chance of happening as I do of being told they made a mistake back at the reaping and I'm not actually the District Eleven male tribute. Which is to say none whatsoever.

"Look, kid, you don't have to answer me if you don't want to. I was just curious as to why someone with your obvious talents and smarts keeps wasting his limited amount of training time doing something he's already mastered."

"You know, I've been asking myself that same question for at least the last day and a half. And as luck would have it, I finally came up with an answer to it just a few minutes ago."

"Fantastic…

"Were you planning to share it with me? Or should I take the fact that you haven't as an indication to stop talking and go set up the station so you can run through it again?"

"Well, this should come as no surprise, but I'm really not in the mood to share right now…

"So, if it's not too much trouble...

I've never been more disappointed in myself at any point in my entire life than I am right now. But try as I might, I can't force myself to swallow my pride, which is a prerequisite for me to change my crappy answer, in the minute or so of quiet between my giving my answer, and the trainer responding to it.

"Say no more, kid.

"One stupidly pointless rerunning of the edible plant and berries test coming right up…"


Kylon Warwick-17 (D8M)

I never thought I would have to admit this, mainly because I never imagined our alliance would make it past the first day of training. But I seriously underestimated just how good of an ally Annalee could actually be.

In fact, the more time we spend together training. The more I start to wonder why someone as talented as her would bother with someone like me at all?

Because between my crap combat skills. My refusal to take anything as seriously as I should. And my less than stellar ability to stay focused and on task when I don't enjoy what I'm doing. I'm not exactly the poster boy for an amazing Hunger Games ally.

"Are you listening to me, Kylon?"

Speaking of which…

"Of course I'm listening to you, Annalee. In fact, I heard every word you just said."

"Did you though?"

"Of course I did."

"Then why do you have that I've been off in my own world for so long that I don't have the slightest idea what it is I'm doing look on your face?"

"OK. First off. I do not have that look on my face.

"And second off, even if I did, it wouldn't matter. Because, as I've told you before, my face always looks like that."

"Yeah. I didn't buy that crappy excuse the first time you tried it and I don't buy it now."

"What if I say it with a funny voice? Would you buy it then?"

OK, so I'm pretty sure that sounded a lot better in my head than it did in real life. And if I couldn't tell that Annalee is trying super hard not to bust out laughing at just how stupidly playful and cheesy it ended up being, I might actually be worried. But I can, so I'm not.

Or at the very least I'm not as worried as I would be if she was trying to hide a disgusted grunt or an angry eye roll instead of an honest to god giggle.

"You know something, Kylon. You really are a royal pain in the ass sometimes."

"But..?"

"But... You're still a pretty cool guy.

"I mean, you'd have to be. That's the only way I can justify how often you make me laugh at your stupid jokes and having fun when I should be acting serious and getting ready for the Games."

"What can I say. I like to have fun, and when I have fun, everyone around me tends to have fun too."

"Oh, there's no doubt about that.

"Now, if you could just find the want and the will to channel your awesome little gift into something more constructive. Maybe you wouldn't be such a drag on our chances of winning."

You know, it's hard for me to argue with that kind of super sound and well… thought… out... Hold on a second...

"Did you really just try to sneak one of Thomas's crappy insults in there at the end of all that?"

"Did I?"

"I think you did."

"Are you sure?

"I mean, that doesn't sound like something I would do."

"Oh don't you try that crap with me, Annalee. We both know that it sounds exactly like something you would do.

"Especially when you're trying to prove to me that I'm not paying attention."

I've got her now. And if the look of amused defeat on her face is any indication, she knows it.

"OK, you got me. I was trying to see if I could catch you not paying attention to me."

"I knew it!"

"Oh don't act so smug. There's no living with you when you get like that.

"And seeing as we're going to be spending more and more time together over the next few days, my not being able to live with you could end up being a major problem."

"But if I stop acting smug now how will you and everyone else know that I have such an awesome personality?! HOW!"

"Well, I already know. So you have nothing to worry about there.

"So I guess the real question is. Do you really care if the people who are going to be trying to kill you know that you have an awesome personality?"

How in the heck am I supposed to argue with logic like that?! No, I mean seriously, how in the sam heck am I supposed to argue with that kind of stupidly strong yet maddeningly annoying logic?!

"Oh no, you don't… Don't you go off and space out on me again Kylon!"

"Oh for the love of. You don't want me to share my award-winning personality with everyone. You don't want me to make cheesy jokes during serious moments. You don't want me to space out when I should be paying attention.

"Is there anything fun or normal for me that I can do?"

"Of course there is. You just have to pay attention for the rest of the day before I'll tell you what."

"Oh that's is so unfair."

"I know it is. But if me being unfair now helps keep you, and more importantly me, alive in the arena, I'll find a way to live with myself."

"You know, if you keep saying things like that I might actually start to think that you care about me, Annalee."

"Don't be silly, Kylon. There's no might about it.

"I mean come on, you're my district partner. You're my ally. I'd even go so far as to say you're my friend.

"So of course I care about you."

"You um… You do?"

"Of course I do.

"Just because this little alliance of ours hasn't been everything I'd hoped it would be. Doesn't mean I don't care about you, Kylon."

"I don't… I don't know what to say."

"Then don't say anything.

"Just get down here and help me camouflage this stupid spike pit trap so the trainer can grade us on it before we run out of time and have to clean it up."


Bacchus Jaguar-18 (D2M)

You know, I hate to admit this. Mostly because I really don't think I could come up with a better idea if I had too. But I'm sort of disappointed in the plan of attack Isabelle and Sandor came up with for the bloodbath.

I mean, the plan itself is relatively simple and surprisingly straightforward as far as plans go. The hardest part of it for me is going to be tracking down my partner, in this case, Piper. As well as my designated anti-career target, in this case, my district partner Tartarus. Before things get too far out of control and I lose the ability to do so.

But even with all of that being said, I can't help but feel more than a little disappointed in just how unnecessarily convoluted and single-minded the justification behind the plan really is. I mean, we all know that Bijou, Tartarus, and their new friend Cliff are by far the single biggest, and in all reality the only, real threat to our otherwise unassailable alliance. But that doesn't mean we can afford to zero in on them at the expense of everything and everyone else in the arena.

That's both dangerous and stupid. In fact, it just might be dangerously stupid. Which I guess is just a more creative and easy flowing way to say that it's dangerous and stupid. But I digress…

"So that's the plan. I know it might seem like a bit much now. But Isabelle and I have been working on this for a while now. And we're confident that this is the plan that will put our alliance in the best possible position to run the table. Which in turn should all but assure that one of the six of us will end up being the last tribute standing."

"Provided none of you screws up your seemingly simple assignment that is."

OK, so why in the hell did Isabelle feel the need to add that last little bit in there? I mean come on, it was bad enough that we had to sit here and listen to Sandor as he passive-aggressively insulted our intelligence by stopping every five or so seconds to ask us things like, did you all understand what that last "big" word I used meant. So there was no real need for Isabelle to add-on to it there at the end.

Especially since the odds of any of us, even Piper and Axle, who are the ones she should be worried about, actually screwing something this simple up are almost non-existent. Could it happen, of course, it could. Anything could happen. But the chances of it happening are so amazingly low that there's no real reason to even bring the possibility that it could happen up.

Unless she's actively trying to plant the seeds of failure in the backs of everyone's minds of that is… But there's no reason for her to do that either. Or at the very least not a good reason that also jells with her self granted title of co-leader of the best career alliance in the long history of the career alliance that is. At least I don't think there is?

Then again, it's not like I actually care one way or the other at this point either. I mean, there's only so much crap I can take before I just stop caring, and we passed that point about fifteen or twenty minutes ago. The fact that none of the others seem all that interested in calling Sandor or Isabelle out for talking down to us, just helps to reinforce my belief that we've all gotten to that point in this relationship.

The fact that said realization doesn't exactly bode well for the long-term viability of our alliance as a whole, is a problem for future Bacchus and his allies to worry about. Not the modern-day ones who are as done with all of Isabelle's and Sandor's crap as they could possibly be,

Fortunately, none of us actually has to respond to them either. Because after about two and a half or so minutes of respectful silence that followed Sandor and Isabelle stupid little presentation, the gong that signals the end of our final day of training starts to ring out from every corner of the room with a low, loud, and steady tone. Giving every one of us the excuse we need to quickly and quietly slip out of the room without saying something that might get us kicked out of the alliance.

Which, as much as I hate to admit, might not be a bad thing. You know, once all of the unpleasantness that is the upcoming bloodbath is done and over with that is...


Quills Danelhayr-17 (D9M)

Well, I did it. No one in their right mind would have thought I could pull this off. But through my sheer force of will, and an unconquerable desire to do the impossible. I actually managed to do the one thing no one else in the history of District Nine, and maybe even Panem as a whole, has ever even dreamed of trying to pull off.

That's right, I, the great and powerful Quills Danelhayr, managed to do the impossible. I made it through three full days of Hunger Games training despite being sloshed out of my mind for every single second of it. Or at the very least I think the word I'm looking for is sloshed. It could very well be blitzed or smashed. Depending on your preference or how you ordered the levels of inebriation those words represent.

Regardless, I've spent the entirety of the last three days drunk out of my mind. A fact that has made what would otherwise be an unbearably unfun exercise, by far one of the most fun things I've ever done in my entire life. Which really is saying something despite the fact that I'm still just seventeen-years-old.

I mean seriously, having fun during Hunger Games training is an accomplishment worth celebrating. Getting away with being drunk for the entirety of Hunger Games training is an accomplishment worth celebrating. So doing both at the same time is the kind of super accomplishment that should be celebrated from now until the end of time. Which is why I have every intention of announcing to the world what it is I've done during my pre-game interview.

But that's at least a day and a half away from happening. So right now I need to go ahead and focus on something much more important. Like getting up to my district's suite without upchucking on all of the poor souls that are fortunate enough to be sharing the elevator with me right now. And once that's done, I need to quickly but quietly secure myself a few more bottles of that sweet red wine I love so much before Hyperia has the avox lock it up like she did last night. Because I'm not sure I can stomach the idea, let alone the reality, of having to slum it up and drink nothing but vodka for another night…

Of course, if this elevator keeps jolting around like it has been for the last few seconds, I won't have to worry about that. Because if it doesn't, there's a better than fifty-fifty chance that I'm going to throw up all over the place sooner rather than later. And if that happens, Hyperia will have the avox lock up all the booze, not just the good stuff. Which would unfortunately force me to spend the majority of my night drying out instead of carefully nursing the nearly week-old buzz that's helped me survive what has basically been hell on Earth for the last three plus days.

Then again, I guess whether or not that happens is as out of my hands as anything can possibly be. So I might as well focus on just how much fun tonight, and to a lesser extent the next couple of days, are going to be if I can find a way to NOT barf until I'm safely locked away in the welcoming embrace of my private bathroom. Where I'll have the opportunity to wash the taste of regurgitated wine out with the oh so sweet taste of new wine...


A/N: And that, my friends, is that. After 6 chapters and a stupid amount of time, we've finally finished up with the training chapters. Which means, at long last, we can finally move on to the important stuff. I'm speaking of course of individual sessions, training scores, and pre-game interviews! We're also getting oh so tantalizingly close to the start of the Games proper if that's your cup of tea ;) lol.

Speaking of which, after giving it a lot of thought, and writing a couple of rough draft chapters that quickly exploded in size without any sign of slowing down, I've decided to approach the individual sessions/scoring chapter and the interview chapter in a new and slightly different way.

Instead of doing 24 individual sessions and then a talk show interview type thing like I've done in the past, I'm going to combine both chapters into one and do it from the POV of the Head Gamemaker as she and her staff try to come up with a finalized score roster. This should allow me to briefly go over what each tribute did, as well as how well they did it and just how impressive the gamemakers thought they were, before giving them a score. Think of it as a quick hitter recap of the highlights and low-lights from each session.

As to the interviews, I'm going to do those in recap style too, but from the interviewing POV of either the President or the Master of Ceremonies. Which again, should allow for a greatest and worst hits collection for each tribute, as well as a general impression of how the powers that be think they did and who they are, without so much of the page eating filler I have a bad habit of throwing into the mix.

I hope this is ok with everyone and that it works out as well as I think it will. But I'll have time to worry about that later. Right now, I'd much rather hear what everyone thinks of the last chapter, so I'm going to wrap this up so you can all go and comment :) And I'll look forward to seeing all of your happy faces at the next update! :D