Serena May Lenovius, District Seven
Serena May watched with vague interest as her district partner went through the melee weapons simulator. The first day had been rather tragic for Tanner. He had objected to the simulations showing human beings instead of colored objects or bunny rabbits or something. This had earned a fair bit of snickers from the careers and the rather nasty nickname 'Rabbit'. Serena May had feared it would paint a target on his back.
She needn't have worried. Tanner seemed to have finally realized the situation he was in, and the humanoid shapes on the simulations no longer bothered him. Today he was using twin hatchets in each hand, and rather mercilessly tearing up his targets. Serena May had been watching the tributes long enough to see the differences between who had had combat experience and who hadn't. Even those with talent had a certain hesitancy to them. But Tanner had none of that. He had fought before, probably more than once. His objections hadn't been from an unwillingness to fight, like everyone had assumed at first. Perhaps he just didn't want to accept that in a few days he would have to.
Either way, everyone could clearly see now that Tanner Kelly was not a rabbit at all. Serena May was glad they had cemented an alliance early day two. Between them and the boy from Ten, she figured they would have something close to a chance. Tanner finished his simulation and Serena May signed him his congratulations.
While the speaking tablet had been welcome at first, it had rather quickly worn out its welcome. It was far too similar to actual speech, harsh and grating on her ears. It was better of course. She didn't have to deal with the vibrations in her throat or the way the sound echoed on the inside of her eardrums like when she actually spoke. But it was still something that she avoided when she could. They would require her to use it for interviews of course, but during training Serena May reverted back to sign and writing. Tanner didn't know the specifics of what she said, but he seemed to understand the sentiment. He handed her the hatchets with a smile and she stepped up to the center of the holohall.
Serena May was pretty sure that she was not as talented as Tanner was in the simulation. She had never truly fought anyone, and didn't have quite enough physical strength to do much damage. But she did all right she figured. It was her goal to be a jack of all trades, knowing enough about each subject that she could apply it to whatever situation happened to her in the Games. Most of the time she had been at the survival stations, and she felt like she had gathered quite a lot in the short time she had been there. But it was the last day, and Serena May was smart enough to realize that she would probably have to fight at some point. Conflict was rarely avoided forever in the Hunger Games.
"You're not bad." A voice said from behind her when the simulation finished. A voice that she recognized. Titania Topaz, tribute from District One.
Serena May was not particularly proud of her response. She jumped slightly, her hands automatically coming up to her face in a defensive position. This would have been perfectly fine if she hadn't also been holding a hatchet. It turned out that while the shield did wonders for fending off aggression from other tributes, it wasn't quite quick enough to stop a self inflicted injury. She let out a grunt of pain and instantly dropped both weapons.
"Medic!" Titania yelled, but Serena May shook her head. She didn't want a medic. There wouldn't be any medics in the Hunger Games after all. This was an opportunity if she thought of it a certain way. She clamped down on the wound to help staunch the bleeding and went through the first aid lessons that she had learned the past couple of days. The next step was to clean the wound.
She left the holohall promptly, leaving the hatchets on the ground and heading straight to the water purifying station. The two tributes from Twelve were there talking with each other next to a bucket of water they had finished purifying. She grabbed an empty bucket and held her arm over it, then poured water from the purified bucket onto the wound. They had boiled it, she could tell. It was no longer dangerously hot but it was still hot enough to send waves of pain through her body. She tried not to scream. The tributes from Twelve were already staring at her and Titania had followed her for some reason. If she wasn't careful, the whole training center would be watching her.
"Hey. How about you just sit down and tell me what you need." Titania offered. Serena May thought about . She was not guarenteed allies in the Hunger Games. But then again, there was nothing saying she wouldn't have them either. She had already made agreements with Tanner and Ruben. It was possible that she would have help after all. So she sat down and looked at the wound on her arm. It was deep, deeper than she had first thought.
She moved her hand in a way that mimicked sewing, but realized that since Titania didn't know sign she would probably have to break down and speak at some point.
"Stitches. You need stitches?" she asked and Serena nodded. "Are you sure you don't want to just go to the medic?"
Serena nodded again.
The career looked completely perplexed, but left to find supplies at the various stations. She returned with a needle, thread, some bandages and a small lighter. Serena May quickly got to work. It was painful, and perhaps incredibly unnecessary. But in a very short amount of time she would probably be doing this for real. She needed the practice. Needed to know the pain and the way it felt to sew up a wound and how to make sure that she made no noise even if every muscle in her body was screaming at her. She was used to not making noise, but that was voluntary. This was different. And if she didn't get it right now, she had no guarentee she would get it later.
"Well." Titania said when she was done, "That was possibly the craziest thing I've ever seen."
It was strange seeing the career so shaken. Serena May was certain she had seen injuries worse than this before. Probably had them worse. And she always seemed so in control, so cool and collected. Titania Topaz reminded her of a building: tall and elegant and beautiful.
Yet she was staring at Serena May like she had sprouted wings and flown around the training center.
Serena May did all she could think to do. She smiled. Thank you. She signed, and the other girl seemed to know that one.
"Uh. Your welcome." She replied.
It was the first time she had ever seen the girl from One lost for words.
Issa Williams, District 11
Raleigh cleared his throat, and Issa looked up from the paint he was making in the camouflage station. He seemed to do that a lot. Issa was not entirely sure what to think about the boy from Six, but Violet had chosen him as an ally and so he was trying really hard to be favorable.
Issa was not quite ready to give up hope, but three days of training had bruised his optimism a little bit. There were quite a few talented people going into the games with him. He had expected the careers to be deadly of course, they always were. But the girl from Seven seemed to pick up survival skills twice as fast as anyone, the pair from ten seemed far more combat capable than anyone had expected, and it turned out that Raleigh had an above average aim. Issa personally had nothing to bring to the table. He was a painter, a dreamer, quite and thoughtful. A combat zone was no place for him. That was why it was important to have allies, like Raleigh and Violet. It was why he clung to his district partner like his life depended on it.
"Do you need something for your throat?" Issa asked, "I think I saw something at the edible plants section that helped with that."
Raleigh shook his head. Though he did that a lot too, so it was hard to say if he meant no or not. "I'm fine. It's just my Tourette's"
"Your what?"
"Tourette syndrome." He explained, "It's a neurological disorder. I've had it my whole life."
"And it makes you… shake your head and stuff?"
Raleigh nodded.
"Can you stop it?"
"Not really." He said, "Sometimes I can delay it for a while, but it's kind of like a sneeze. Eventually it's going to come out."
Issa was not entirely sure what a neurological disorder was. Of course, he didn't know what a lot of things were. It turned out that District Eleven was not a great place to obtain information, especially if you were as poor as Issa was. Issues with more than four syllables were for rich people.
"Is it expensive?" Issa asked.
"The treatments are." He said, "There are some medications. Some therapies. But we've always been poor so it was never something we did. Figured it wouldn't kill me." Raleigh's expressions went dark and Issa realized that when a stray sneeze could be the difference between life or death in the arena, a condition like that could be very difficult.
"I grew up poor too." Issa said, trying to change the subject, "My mom, my sister and I got on all right though. And my sister got married recently so now there's just the two of us."
"What happened to your father?" Raleigh asked.
"He died. Mugging. I was really young though, I don't really remember it."
Raleigh was quiet at that, and Issa realized that if he was trying to stay away from difficult subjects maybe poverty and dead dads wasn't the best way to go. The boy cleared his throat a couple more times, and Issa realized that it had been a bit of a jerk move to be slightly annoyed by it. It was clearly something he couldn't control, and honestly it wasn't even that disruptive.
"You know, I think it's an advantage." Raleigh said after a full minute.
"What is?"
"Having difficult things happen in our lives. Those careers have been trained. But do you think they actually know what it feels like to be starving? Or to have someone you know die? They're not actually ready for this."
Issa felt a little self conscious that a thirteen year old seemed more mature than him. But he did find some comfort in the boy's words. He had felt a little lost the last couple days. Everyone had seemed so skilled, and he was just Issa. But the boy from six saw something in him. That had to count for something.
"I'm glad you're my ally, Raleigh."
"And I'm glad you're mine."
Astra Porter, District Six
"Have you decided what you are doing for your private training sessions?" Hebe asked. It seemed like a strange question to Astra. The sessions were less than an hour away, with only a short last individual training session and something called a 'physician's screening' to go before the gamemakers decided to reduce her entire existence to a number. There was not much you could plan in that short of time. Anyone who had a strategy had already thought of it.
Yet it embarrassed her to say that she didn't have a strategy at all. Astra was usually the organized one, the one with the plan. The smart kid who always thought ahead. But in this case, nothing had come to her.
"I'm not sure." She answered, "I've gotten fairly decent at knives. Thought maybe I could show that off."
"Have you considered showcasing your survival skills?"
Astra shook her head emphatically. She didn't get to this point out of sheer laziness. Astra had thought about the private sessions, and what she had to offer. It was just that she hadn't quite come to a conclusion on what she could show that the Capitol would actually take note on. But she had decided on a few things she definitely wasn't going to show.
"Survival skills never get good ratings." Astra said.
Hebe nodded her head slightly, "They are a bit blood fixated, yeah. But I have a couple questions."
"Sure. What are they?"
"How reliant are you going to be on sponsors?"
"Not very. I mean, I want some, but I don't think it's wise to rely on them."
"And your allies?"
"I already told you, I don't have any right now." Astra had mostly been looked over when it came to people looking for Alliances during training. She couldn't blame them, she hadn't really shown anything that impressive there. But it was not like she had been ostracized. Raleigh had offered to introduce her to the pair from Eleven that he had allied with, but Astra actually preferred to go alone, at least at first. Only one person could win the Hunger Games, after all. She wouldn't actively hunt anyone, but Astra would do what she had to in order to survive.
"So… Why do you need a high score at all?" Hebe asked.
The suggestion hit her like a lightning strike. Everyone knew that high training scores were good. It was pretty much universal common knowledge. But as Hebe mentioned it, Astra realized that there were several situations where a lower score would be preferable. Since she had no allies to protect her, she didn't want to paint herself as a threat. Sure, it would be best to get over a three to avoid being considered easy to kill. But anywhere from a four to a six would make her unremarkable to other tributes. It would be an added layer of anonymity, something that would be useful if she wanted to avoid combat.
"Thank you. That's a good idea." Astra said.
Hebe nodded again, stared at Astra with a contemplative look, then started to speak, "Would you mind if I cut this meeting a little short? Raleigh asked me if I could show him some last minute crossbow techniques.
Rage coursed through Astra, but she did her best to stay calm, "You're teaching Raleigh?" she asked.
It made sense, if she thought about it. Her district partner did seem to have a knack for the crossbow, which was the weapon Hebe was best known for in her games. She still kept the weapon, keeping it on a holster on her back even in places where weapons were not exactly polite. It would be foolish to let that kind of coincidence pass just because Hebe technically wasn't Raleigh's mentor.
Yet Astra couldn't help but feel slightly jealous. She liked Raleigh for the most part. She had rejected his alliance offer because she thought she was best on her own and not out of any personal vendetta. But hearing about this felt like some sort of portrayal.
There was only one person coming home, after all. And if Hebe was rooting for two different tributes to come home, that meant Astra would effectively be getting half the attention she was entitled to.
"Do you think that Raleigh has a better chance of winning than I do?" Astra asked.
She had expected an immediate answer. An almost reflexive denial and sweet words meant to soothe her ego. But they didn't come. Instead Hebe just stared at her, thinking, weighing the answers in her head. Astra respected that about the woman even as the silence began to form complicated knots in her stomach.
"I do." She answered finally.
Something within Astra snapped. She had always been a little contrary and stubborn. Her whole life people had been telling her what she could and could not do, and she had always taken it as a challenge. People telling her that she couldn't do something was how she had learned French and gotten down to an eight minute mile. And this seemed to be the ultimate no. Her own mentor seemed to back a thirteen year old over her. Well, she was ready to prove her wrong.
"Actually I'd like to use all my time." Astra said, and pulled a crossbow off of the nearby weapons rack, "Teach me."
Astra couldn't quite tell what Hebe's emotions were, but she eventually nodded and led Astra to the range, where they practiced until her escort came to retrieve her.
AN: I'm still around, plugging away at this. I do seem to be a bit slower lately, but the chapters are also longer. And we get closer and closer to the games every day. Thank you lovely readers for supporting and liking this project. You rock.
