Training Day Two

Josephine Marcellus, 18

District Two Female

Josephine Marcellus was someone who believed in smiling in any situation, however hard they be, but it was becoming increasingly difficult right now.

She knew better than to let anyone get on her nerves, especially now when it was the second day of training and she needed to keep her head cool. It wasn't that she wasn't trying to keep calm, she had put in a monumental effort to avoid getting annoyed and angry, but it was a greater feat than she had imagined, and her admiration for people who could tolerate it rose higher with each passing second. Of course, Cruxia and Nereus were those who constituted this particular group, the pair that remained adamant about their stance and yet refused to let it affect them, and that was a great strength, but Josephine was not like them, and she acknowledged it. The deeds of the other Careers was affecting her more than she had thought the previous day, and it was probably because of the subtlety with which they intimidated the Outliers, through glares and smirks and twisted grins, and it frankly disgusted Josephine. Their ideology was not hers, their values were not hers, their thinking was not hers. She was a true Career, a woman of dignity and class, and she was not going to indulge in belittling the weak and establishing her superfluous superiority.

She watched, with rage and irritation, as they went around the training centre as if they owned the place, terrorising children into not training 'too much', especially the ones who were practicing weaponry. She wished that they would put that kind of effort into getting some last-minute training and work out the way she and the pair from Four had been getting, practicing in the simulation chamber. Yes, it was true that Careers should not overwork during training days because anything could happen and they might get injured days before such a big event, but some regular exercise was certainly recommended. She sighed, forcing herself to look away from her allies, and reached out for a disposable glass. She filled it with cool water and held it firmly, looking into it, various thoughts racing across her mind. The water was not deep but definitely thought provoking, and the cool surface of the glass was slowly but steadily calming Josephine down. Going around like mafias, scaring the competition, robbing their chance at a fair play… she was not this. She was not this petty work of nature, she was not a girl with no self-esteem, for that was what she thought of her allies who were involved in these activities. Strategy would include marking targets, claiming supplies, and taking out as many tributes in the bloodbath as possible, not this vile thing that Jupiter had convinced everyone to do.

She touched the glass to her lips, the paper tasting a bit off but the coolness bringing a sense of refreshment in her blood as she drank the liquid, eyes shut, thinking about what she needed to do now that the majority had voted in favour of such a despicable act. She wanted to knock some sense of pride in these people, pride and honour, for what Career would lack such basic attributes that made one a Career? She did not know, and she couldn't refuse that she was especially put off by Napoleon. He was from Two, he should have had at least considered how important something like honour was for people back home. Did he really think that he would be welcomed with open arms in case he went back as a cheater and a goon? She wouldn't have had felt proud of him were he her victor. Probably this notion was what convinced Josephine that she was much better than Nate, much more deserving, and that it was time for her to take her own stand.

The threw the glass in the dustbin, and started ambling towards the group that had gathered at another water station, observing the competition even as they talked. Josephine's pace increased as the purpose and resolve became clearer in her own mind, and she was soon standing beside Jupiter, her hands clasped behind her back, and she locked eyes with him, making him pause in his motion and look back at her quizzically, a hint of surprise on his face.

"Stop with this," she said briskly, not caring about what he thought, not caring about what anyone thought. She was not having any of it, no more behaving like some dons and mafias. She crossed her arms across her chest, eyes not leaving Jupiter's even for a second, not blinking. In return, Jupiter too held her gaze with a quiet rage, his brows raised just a bit, and he too crossed his arms, mimicking her motion to assure her that he was serious about this conversation, and that he was serious about his decision.

"We voted on it, Josephine," he replied, and Josephine was starkly aware of all the stares that she was receiving, the fellow Careers watching back and forth between the two, but Josephine refused to lower or turn her gaze, for she knew that she wasn't being unreasonable, that she was among those few who cared about what a Career truly meant.

"Just because more people feel that stooping so low is justified, doesn't mean it actually is."

"Stooping so low?" Margaery spoke up, but Josephine refused to look at her as she stepped beside Jupiter as if to support him, "It's called strategy dude. We're all here to win."

"Win to bring honour to our home. I'm sure none of us really signed up for the thrill of murder."

"Of course not. But we need to make sure that a worthy tribute, one of us, wins this thing."

"But shouldn't it be done the right way?"

"What exactly is the 'right' way, Josephine?"

"The right way of doing things is when we're fair in our conduct, to do things that make sure that we don't regret our decisions, to feel deserving of what we achieve. However, I believe that you don't truly understand what I am saying Jupiter, or maybe you don't want to understand."

"We're a team and we don't have a leader. We do what the majority says."

"Well, if you continue to stay firm on your stance, I'll be firm on mine. I'm leaving."

"You're not serious!"

And finally, finally Josephine looked away from Jupiter's astounded eyes, his brow furrowed, and turned towards the other Careers, the people she knew would be threats to her in the near future, the people she'd try to kill as soon as she could. They were all looking at her as if she had betrayed them, disappointed in her, and Nereus and Cruxia's requests to not take such a step fell on deaf ears. She took one last look at everyone, not expecting the pair from Four to side by her. After all, she had taken an extreme step, and she knew it was probably not the best. However, she also knew that if she had kept quiet on the issue, she would not only feel guilty for something that wasn't her fault, but also be reduced to a sidekick of Jupiter Aeneas, and that was unacceptable to her self-esteem.

So, she nodded at them and walked away towards the simulation chamber. She would train independently now, and after the mandatory hours were over, she would dance a bit. And then, maybe, she would feel much more at ease.

Cairn Rochester, 16

District Twelve Male

Cairn had anticipated a lot of things to happen in his short life, but training for the Hunger Games with his employee was not one of them.

He hadn't believed his ears when his name was called, when their names were called together, and he couldn't quite comprehend the situation when he was Reaped. This was the second day of training, and he could not comprehend anything much even now.

He was using a butcher's knife on a dummy quite absently, mind wandering over to his family and friends and life back home. What were the odds that he would be chosen? There were a lot of people who had taken more tesserae than him, who were older than him, but here he was, already in the second day of training, and Cairn Rochester couldn't help but feel his heart sinking like a wrecked ship in the ocean of despair and hopelessness, and burn like the lava erupting from a volcano. What were his chances of survival? Certainly not one in twenty-four, for there were seven trained Careers this year, each of them waiting for this moment through a whole year of hopelessness. Cairn tried to imagine what they must be feeling, the Careers, but failed rather spectacularly. How could he bring himself to relate to people- children -who trained to kill other children? Children who had no qualms about murder, about wiping out the existence of another human being, another person who dreamed the same, lived the same, breathed the same, looked the same. How was he supposed to empathise with such people? Were they people?

The notion disgusted him so much that he dropped the butcher's knife on the spot and ran, ran hard towards the men's washroom, through the door, through the cubicle, and vomited out the bile that had been rising in his throat since so long. He vomited out the disgust, the inhumanity of these people whether they be the Five, the Capitol or the Careers, for what kind of person could do what these people did willingly? The disgust had been too much for him, and threw up all the contents of his stomach, coughing hard, chest heaving. He was panting hard, breathing hard, trying to gather the courage to go back and force himself to train for murder. Even as a butcher, he asked his other employees to cut the animals, and while he knew how to use a butcher's knife to cut meat, they were usually already dead. Here, he was required to kill a person, and that thought made him throw up again.

When he finally did step out, he stumbled over to the sink and ran his pushed his hands under the water, staring at his hands, his hands that would not have harmless water trickling down them but red blood, a person's blood, and he pulled back his hands immediately, trembling slightly, and took a few seconds to collect himself, before he turned off the tap. He leaned against the sink, looking into the mirror, looking into his own terrified eyes, eyes of a prey and not a predator, but he kept on staring, panting, lips quivering, hands clenching tighter on the edge of the sink. He could not be the prey, he could not be the meat, he had to bring himself to take up the role of the butcher…

And he let out a distressed cry, a cry of anguish and desperation, a cry he had never heard from himself. He stumbled back, and did the only thing he could think of at the moment. Cairn started hitting himself hard, hard enough to cause pain, for he knew that it was a strong action like this that would force him to do what was necessary. It wasn't much, around three blows, but that was enough to knock some sense into him, at least temporarily. He checked his reflection in the mirror again after washing his face, and tried for a smile, which looked like anything but a smile.

And then, he was drifting, drifting towards the spot where he had left the butcher's knife, the one weapon that he could use, but his progress came to an abrupt halt when a firm hand grabbed his shoulder, forcing him to stop and look at Basileus Paladino, smiling lightly.

"You're quite good with that knife. I had watched from afar."

Cairn did not bother speaking on that; he was terrified of being stopped by a Career, and his usual shyness had amounted to something else altogether. His focus was on getting away from the brute, not come up with witty replies, and he stayed silent as Basileus looked at him from top to bottom.

"You've practiced enough," he finally said, "I don't think you need to do more."

It took Cairn a moment to understand what Basileus was trying to say. He didn't need to do more? But then it dawned on him exactly what the older boy meant, why he still had his hand on his shoulder, and why he was having that lopsided smile on his face. He was threatening him, threatening him to not train further, not to do anything and be a good boy, or else…

Cairn was at a loss of reply even as Basileus released him, but not before patting his arm lightly. He gave Cairn a lingering look, before turning around and heading over to the simulation chamber, leaving the younger boy rooted to his spot, eyes still wide at the threat. Sure, he had not wanted to train for murder, but people like Basileus, people who worked day and night to fulfil the dream of killing children their age or younger were trying to make sure nobody got as many skills as they could. They still hadn't completely stopped anyone, but they had forced tributes to consider options, options they weren't as good at, and Cairn couldn't believe at the unfairness of all this.

"Hey." Cairn turned around sharply at the sound, and was astonished to find Josephine standing with Lyanna, both of them looking at him solemnly.

"Hey?" he replied, confused as to why were the wo girls together. They exchanged a look and Lyanna cleared her throat.

"Cairn, we'd like to talk to you for a second…"

Cat Doyle, 13

District Three Female

Cat Doyle was sitting calmly at the lunch table, staring at her plate and contemplating on how much effort had been taken to provide a balanced meal for the tributes.

No, she wasn't particularly interested in food, for she missed her family and her community, and she missed her life back home and she missed the food back home. She was also aware that her chances of survival were slim, for she was a measly girl, only thirteen years of age, and she was up against people who were more skilled. It was just that she had trouble coming to terms with this, and this plate was somewhat of a consolation that maybe, if she ate well, she could make it. She admitted that it was stupid, but was quite glad that the food here wasn't what the Capitolites usually ate, for that could be good for the tongue but not for the body. And so, she shoved a spoonful of aubergine stew in her mouth, not quite liking the taste but finding nothing to really complain about; everyone knew aubergine tasted weird and had an even weirder texture. She was quite relieved to get an excuse to look away from this particular dish when someone took a seat in front of her and diagonally to her. The girl from Five, Nell Tinker nodded at her before turning to look at her plate with her lips visibly downturned, whereas Jet Leather had simply started with the eggs, not bothering to look at where he was or who he was dining with.

"Hey," Cat smiled at Nell, "It's Cat."

"Tink," the other girl smiled, and shook hands with Cat, before getting back to scowling at the stew. She decided she didn't want to eat much of it, and started finishing it as soon as she could, saving the yogurt, the tortilla wrap and the pineapple juice for later. Cat couldn't help but laugh at Tink's dislike for the watery stew, and Tink joined her.

"I guess their budget is low," she exclaimed loudly, and Cat was astonished at how quickly she had emptied the whole bowl. There was nothing left in it, and Cat laughed again. it felt really good to laugh, for she couldn't remember having indulged in that action post being Reaped. Her heart felt lighter and she felt better for she still had the ability to laugh at silly things, to find humour in trivial situations, for she had thought that the anticipation of death had sucked away those emotions and feelings from her being. And so, she talked to Tink about things that were truly insignificant, especially the extremely bland stew, and Cat couldn't believe they were bonding over aubergine.

"Okay, the juice is really good," she said after taking the first sip. It really was amazing and just sweet enough to taste good instead of extremely sugary, and Tink nodded.

"My mum used to force me into eating fruits," Tink muttered, taking a large gulp of the juice, "And I always resisted it because fruits. And here I am, enjoying its juice."

"I know right? One of my friends at my community hated everything to do with fruits. He'd eat it, and then complain for at least an hour about how disgusting they are!"

"Your community?"

"Oh yeah. Back in Three, we had a community of misfits. People who had hard time adjusting in society, or who just weren't accepted by others… we found a home in this community."

"That is really cool! I would totally join your community to become friends with your friends, bro!"

"Haha, we'd love to have you."

And Cat clapped her hands twice, shaking her head, and smiled. She was glad that she got the chance to talk to someone around her age, and talk about things that were not related to the Games. Tink, however, failed to understand why, and she looked at her with a frown.

"You said you'd love to have me there and then shook your head?"

"Oh!" Cat realised that Tink probably did not know about her Tourette's, and she smiled at the other girl, "No no. I've Tourette's, so I sometimes have tics. It's just that, a tic."

"O…kay?"

And there went cat, explaining to Tink in detail about what Tourette's was, what echolalia was, and Tink, on her part, listened to everything raptly, her attention fixed completely on Cat Doyle, nodding at places and being a good audience in general. By the time Cat had finished explaining to her, Tink probably did understand what Tourette's and echolalia was about, and she was grinning stupidly at the other girl.

"You know what, Cat? I like you! Let's team up!"

Cat's hand, which was about to grab the spoon for the yogurt, paused midway. Teaming up… she had gotten so carried away that she had forgotten that she was talking to a tribute, a tribute who would have to die for her to go home. Her eyes stared at her hand, unable to meet Tink's. Let's team up. she was being asked to form an alliance, an alliance to kill…

An alliance to survive, Cat! Don't think about the killing!

"Cat?" Tink asked loudly, her face perplexed.

"I'm in," Cat replied automatically, and her lips curled upwards in an involuntary smile, but Tink didn't seem to notice that. So, she had an ally…

"I'm in too."

Both Cat and Tink jumped at the sudden sound, for they had completely forgotten that they had a companion at lunch, that Jet Leather had been sitting there all the while, and that he was the only one who had finished eating and was looking at them both bluntly. One would say that he was eavesdropping but he wasn't really, for Jet had been clearly present for the whole conversation. Tink chuckled at Cat's amused and Jet's poker face, and clapped his back gently.

"Alright, I don't mind."

"I don't mind either," Cat muttered.

To this, Jet nodded and stood up, lifted his empty plate and marched off to deposit it at the soiled dishes counter, not giving the girls another glance. The girls, on the other hand, chuckled again at the randomness that had been Jet's entry into the alliance, and Cat found herself being somewhat relieved. She had not given alliances much thought but she was glad that she had people with whom she could at least talk to, people who might keep her sanity intact.

"Well," Tink said, leaning back in her chair, grinning, "Tell me a little more about your community."

"Sure."

And there went Cat Doyle, telling her everything there was to know, finally a genuine smile on her face, and for the moment she allowed herself to forget about her troubles and focus only and only on the conversation she was having.

I hope you guys liked this chapter. It was fun to write and I will try to get the third training day up next week, or maybe earlier. Also, I completed my challenge of including aubergine/eggplants in the story, and look how! Aubergine stew helped form an alliance, lol. Let me know what you guys thought about this chapter.

Alliances:

The Hunters: Jupiter, Margaery, Napoleon, Nereus, Cruxia, Basileus

I'm Playing You: Aron, Akira

The Not So Smol Beans: Cupid, Calista

The Saviour and the Saved: Avni, Rook

This is so Random: Cat, Nell, Jet

Have a great day!