Hi, everyone! There were some general problems in updating stories, but now the site seems to be working again, so we can all breathe a sigh of relief, and go down to business.

So, here's another sponsor chapter. As you can notice, I'm trying to write this story from different points of view, and even now that tributes are fighting for their lives, I'm not going to focus exclusively on what happens in the arena, thus showing also what happens outside it. I hope everyone is okay with this.

Enjoy your reading :)


Second day in the arena

Terry Appalachia (29)- Mentor of District 12

I've been watching the Games for hours, my eyes constantly glued to the screen, and now I'm starting to see double. I blink several times, trying to stay focused. Fabian died in the bloodbath, but Yolanda is still alive… alive and with one kill on her tab, and what a kill! A Career! Even if she made it in self-defence, it must mean something for the audience and the Gamemakers, right? Well, the audience is easy to win, one just need to kill to become a hero, but what about the Gamemakers? Yolanda is determined to survive, she has a controversial past, she has shown how dangerous she can be, but she's trying to avoid direct clash… like Katniss Everdeen did, in the end… what if the Gamemakers saw her as a threat? As a matter of fact, the probabilities for District 12 to have a victor have decreased (if possible) since the end of the Second Rebellion, and this due to the Gamemakers' intervention. Popularity is no longer the key to win, not for District 12, at least. I wasn't that popular during my Games, that's why I was allowed to win, I think. Would I have won, if the arena hadn't been a familiar landscape *? Would I have won without all the supplies my mentor sent me? Probably not. My mentor was a Capitolite. He had a sort of charisma with which he could easily win others. Of course, I'm grateful to him, 'cause he made me survive, but I feel also unfit for mentorship when comparing myself to him. In the end, I was a tribute who was just lucky, I didn't win thanks to my skills, so how can I be an example for other tributes? Even if you think of Katniss... she had a wonderful prep team, no doubt... would she have become first the girl on fire and then the Mockingjay without Cinna?

Ah! What's the point of thinking about the past… about a dangerous past above all? Yolanda needs help right now, in the present time! Stay focused, Terry, stay focused! District 12 is watching you now, and its hopes and expectations clinger over your tribute... but what does she actually need? Food? Weapons? Survival supplies? She has already a spear, a blanket, and tablets to purify water… maybe food…

Suddenly, my attention is drawn by the screen, where they show Yolanda. Finally, I can see how she is! But what's she doing? She has left the pond where she rested yesterday, heading to thicket nearby. She seems to know exactly where she's going. Maybe she has already explored that place… maybe while she was not framed.

"Oh, the girl from Twelve! A great revelation of this year's Games!" says Mircalla on TV.

"Very true. Who would imagine that she was able to kill a Career?" replies Cinnamon.

"Honestly, she wasn't one of my favourite tributes, especially after all that drama in her interview, but I must admit that she has made me change my mind."

Drama!? Yolanda has health problems for real, you, idiot! Her asthma attack was not for show!

"But what's she doing?" asks Cinnamon.

"Umm… there must be something interesting among those trees…"

"Oh, she's not alone, apparently!"

"The boy from Three! We lost sight of him after the bloodbath… that's where he was hiding… but one cannot hide from our cameras forever, right?"

"Right, Mircalla. But let's see what it will happen…"

Yes, let's see what it will happen… I feel a knot in my throat. The boy from Three… I haven't considered him a threat so far… his interview was not particularly impressing, but Gamemakers gave him a 7… Yolanda got the same score, after all. Meeting a tribute who's not your ally is always risky in the arena. Anything could happen… Yolanda and the boy might decide to form an alliance, but I doubt it. He has set his camp in a little glade, has gathered some plants- mainly roots- and is now taking a nap. In his interview, he said that his parents ran an apothecary, so he must know something about plants. Those he gathered are certainly edible. He made a little pile with them near his backpack… so in plain sight, how tempting… is it possible that one can be so careless in the arena? Or did he do it on purpose? Anyway, Yolanda is motionless. She's watching the boy, hidden behind a tree. She's probably thinking of what to do. At some point, she has a quick look at her spear. Is she really considering the idea of killing him? But she doesn't kill him. She limits herself to take a handful of roots, and then she flees as silently as possible. I breathe a sigh of relief, but then something unexpected happens: they show the boy, who wakes up. He immediately checks his supplies. By his expression, I can tell that he understood he was robbed, but he doesn't look surprised or worried. Maybe it's just an impression, but isn't that a nod? At this stage, he looks exactly in the direction Yolanda came from. My blood turns cold in my veins. What if the roots she stole were not edible? Does he know that Yolanda was there? Was it a trap? But then they show other tributes, leaving me with this gnawing doubts. One thing is, however, certain: I must do something! Maybe there's an antidote… maybe…

…...

Hippolyta Arrowhead (28)- Mentor of District 2

I get up from the sofa, heading to the fridge. I need a break from the TV screen. I take a bottle of sparkling water. Avoxes are here to serve us, but hell! I've got two hands as well! I take a sip while listening to the fizzy sound of bubbles running down my throat.

"You okay?" Kaya- my fellow mentor- asks me, still seated on the sofa and with a steaming cup of white chocolate between her hands.

I turn to her. "Just thinking of our tributes," I answer.

"You're not obliged to see sponsors, especially if you haven't come up with a strategy yet."

"Strategy is not a problem, Kaya. I do have a strategy, just… let's say that one of our tributes isn't doing anything to deserve help, but he's still the favourite of sponsors. I cannot understand that!" I reply, my tone a bit more aggressive and annoyed than I intended it to be.

"Umm… Victor is not that bad, after all… yeah, he could do much better, no doubt… just give him time, okay?"

I shake my head. "As always, you're too optimistic, Kaya," I say, putting the bottle in the fridge again. "Victor has already lost many opportunities: he didn't kill neither the boy from Ten nor the girl from Eight, and they were both at hand! That's why I'll go to the hotel, I'll meet Mr. Storm, and convince him to sponsor Scarlett."

"Scarlett got already a gift, Victor none. The audience will think we've abandoned him," she points out.

"The audience doesn't matter. Mr. Storm said he would send gifts after the bloodbath… well, today is the second day in the arena, and he hasn't sent anything yet! Do you know why? Well, in my opinion he has realized Victor is unworthy, but he wants me to say it!"

"Scarlett has already other sponsors, she doesn't need one more supporter. Who sent the glasses?"

"Happy Haller," I answer.

Kaya smiles in response. "Oh, yeah, Jay's suitor. Thalas told me that…"

I interrupt her: "No gossip, please."

"Okay, as you wish," she replies, and then takes a sip of her hot chocolate.

I do a disgusted face. "How can you drink that swill? It's too sweet!"

"Oh, you know I prefer white chocolate."

At this stage, I go to my room to take my leather jacket. I look at my reflection in the mirror. Saint Ariel Storm may not be flamboyant, but he's still a Capitolite, and appearances do matter in Capitol City. The way you present yourself can make the difference. Mr. Storm is quite straightforward, so I'd better not pretend to be who I'm not. I can be myself, and that's great. Today, I'm wearing a simple, high-necked, light brown pullover, black leggings, and booties. Sometimes, I'm told that my style should be more woman-like, but I don't care. I feel at ease with my usual clothes, and that's what matters.

I go back to the living room, where Kaya is still seated on the sofa. We've agreed that seeing sponsors is up to me alone even during arena days. She focused on tributes' training in the past few days, so she can only make suggestions now.

"I see. You're leaving, and I cannot make you change your mind," she says, resigned.

"Precisely," I reply.

"You know, it's in these occasions that I miss Julius. He's more persuasive than me, and more diplomatic than you," she adds.

A slight smile forms on my lips. "He was not like that in the past. I remember when he was selected for the Games… he was skilled, but so closed on himself!"

"Fatherhood has changed him."

I've never considered this before… or, rather, I've always ignored this fact on purpose. The truth is that, deeper down, I kind of envy Julius. He managed to start a new family after his Games, to have a different life. All things considered, my life is not different from that I had before my Games, apart from the fact that I'm filthy rich now. But what's the point of being rich if you're alone? My life has always been academy-centred, the academy of District 2 is all my world. Kaya is single as well, but she's a sociable person, she likes attending parties. Being alone has never bothered me before, so why am I thinking of it now? Maybe it's the fear of leaving no legacy, of being forgotten, of ending up in the great oblivion of history like many others.

"I'll leave. I've already phoned the limousine service. See you later, Kaya," I say almost mechanically in order to dispel these pointless thoughts.

"See you later," she replies.

I go down to the parking space of the Training Center. Once there, I notice that there are two white limousines. Someone else is going to the hotel, then… after all, white limousines are used only by mentors. Those for powerful Capitolites are black. The limousine service works 24/7, especially during the Games season; you just need to pay, but in this case it's all inclusive. Mentors don't need to pay, the government does it. I hear some footsteps from behind my back. I immediately turn around, my hand moving instinctively towards my quiver… but I've got no quiver with me, of course. Come on, Hippolyta! You're not in the arena! Anyway, I see Terry Appalachia, the mentor of District 12. She has a frantic expression on her face. She doesn't seem to notice my presence, since she walks by without even looking at me, as if I was an invisible ghost. What's the matter with her? Not that I care…

Anyway, I get in the limousine.

"To the Rainbow End Hotel," I tell the driver by using the speaker.

The limousine slowly leaves the parking. At some point, I start looking outside the window, at the patchwork of colours, steel, and glass that is the Capitol. I will never fully understand this city, it's too different from the stony austerity of District 2. Sometimes, I even wonder whether I'm still on planet Earth, when I come here. People like imagining that victors indulge in any possible luxury like Capitolites, to the extent that they end up looking like Capitolites… like Thalas, who dyes his hair blue… but I know that he doesn't do it to look like a Capitolite**… yet, if one ignores that…

My thoughts are interrupted by the driver, who opens the door and helps me out. Apparently, I'm already at destination. I head straight to the reception desk.

"I want to talk to Mr. Saint Ariel Storm," I tell the receptionist.

Since she glares at me in response, I add: "Please."

She checks her computer. "Mr. Storm is not available at the moment," she says.

"What is he doing?" I ask, annoyed.

"Well, for reasons of privacy, I'm afraid I…"

I interrupt her by slamming my hand on the desk. "What is he doing?" I repeat my question.

She winces and blushes in response. She starts looking around her, clearly embarrassed. "No need to make such a spectacle in public, miss. Mr. Storm has been seeing mentors the whole morning, so he's having a nap now."

"Is there a free niche?"

She checks her computer. "Yes. Niche 7…"

"Book niche 7 for me, and, please, tell Mr. Storm that I'll wait for him there."

"But I told you…"

"Do what I said!" I reply, interrupting her again.

Hell! There's a reason why Kaya cannot deal with sponsors: she's too compliant, she would never obtain anything!

I enter Niche 7. I sit on the couch behind the coffee table so that I'll be able to see Mr. Storm as soon as he makes his appearance. I'm almost over the edge, so I start playing with the colour wheel on the tablet in order to distract myself a little bit. I feel my tension decrease as the room is changing shade at my will. Even the explanations on the colours' meanings don't sound silly now.

"You selected: green. Green is the colour of nature. It conveys harmony and serenity. Useful with anxiety disorders."

"Nice choice," says a voice coming from in front.

I look up from the tablet screen. Saint Ariel Storm entered the room without me noticing it. Now, he's seated right in front of me. Not only does he look like a cat, he also moves as silently as a cat!

"Looks like someone is anxious today," he adds.

"It's not a matter of anxiety. Mentors should always be ready, when their tributes need help," I reply.

I do my best not to smile in satisfaction. He caught me off guard, but I managed to speak properly, nonetheless.

"And what do you think they need now?" he asks.

"I think we'd better start with strategy, Mr. Storm, and then we might move to sponsor gifts."

"Umm… interesting… go ahead."

He doesn't sound annoyed, and considering that I made him interrupt his nap… it bodes well, no doubt.

"I know you've got a preference for Victor, but we'd better focus on Scarlett instead. Victor is not…" I start saying, but then I stop, because I immediately realize that I'm venturing on a slippery slope.

"… is not the chosen tribute? Is that what you wanted to say, Mrs. Arrowhead?"

I'm taken aback by his straightforwardness one more time. "Academy" is a taboo word along with everything that is liked to it.

"Mrs. Arrowhead, let's not fool ourselves," he says with a slight smile. "Academies are theoretically forbidden, but we're both aware that the Capitol knows they exist, aren't we?"

"Yes."

"During the bloodbath, Scarlett reminded her partner that he's not the chosen tribute, but who cares? He's still my favourite."

Now or never!

"Why? He has been disappointing so far!" I rebut.

"Maybe. But so far Victor has been in a large alliance, and, you know, large alliances need a strong leader not to fall apart. The problem is that Victor is not the leader… he's strong enough to be one, he'd like to be one, but his allies seem to prefer Mrs. Serafin as a leader. Can you see my point?"

"Are you saying that…?"

"I think that Victor should leave the Career pack… maybe along with Scarlett. Looks like they have a sort of agreement."

"But…"

"The sooner the better. The Career pack of this year is not united at all. Your tributes would better be as far away as possible, when it falls apart. In the end, talking to me was a forward-looking decision, Mrs. Arrowhead: I feel like your tributes will need my help soon."

…...

Hugh Barkard (90)- Mentor of District 7***

It's ridiculous! Asking me to mentor tributes at my age! It's true that Capitolite surgery does miracles, yet… ah! If Trent Eliot was a victor with guts, I wouldn't be here! After winning the 93rd Hunger Games, he tried to commit suicide several times. Why? Just because his partner in the Games happened to be his partner in life as well!? They joined the Career pack, but she hadn't the guts to do what was necessary. He did her a favour when he eventually killed her, otherwise the Careers would have reserved a much slower death for her. Trent was, however, sly, patient, and surprisingly cold-blooded. He knew the Careers relied on his knowledge as a lumberjack to survive in the arena, which was a wood of giant sequoias- the ideal arena for a boy from District 7. He pretended not to care about his partner's death, and the Careers- how naïve- believed him to the extent that he managed to kill them all at once: he found some poison mushrooms, but claimed they were edible; he gave them to his allies to eat, and then watched them writhe in pain till they all died. That's why he was nicknamed "the Poisoner". April was a pretty girl, but, jeez, Trent could have all the girls he wants now that he's rich! What's the point of freaking out and ending up in a clinic of the Capitol?

"Some mentors have really all the luck," says a voice behind my back, but I don't need to turn around to know who it is.

I was waiting for her. She takes her seat right beside me. Her movements are fluid and sensual. What an arrogant slut!

"Tell me, Mrs. Coney, how can a mentor be considered lucky?" I reply, without turning to her.

"Well, if their tributes are good enough to attract the most important sponsor, then they don't need to work that much," she explains.

"And you call that luck?"

"It's an external factor. You need sponsors to help your tributes in the arena, right?"

"Right, but I don't see your point."

"Oh, I think you do, instead," she rebuts, crossing her long legs.

I look at her. She's comfortably seated on the sofa, her back bent backwards to lean on the backrest, her arms down by her side. She's wearing a sort of tight, black corset, which pushes up her breast. She's watching me with half-opened eyes, her long eyelashes shadowing her violet-magenta irises. She has a glossy, red lipstick on her parted lips, which makes her even more languid. Oh, how provoking she is! But I know she's doing all this just because I must not touch her. She's a forbidden territory, but if only I could…

At some point, Delphie smirks, clearly aware of my gaze. "Come on, Hugh, I'm here to talk about your tributes. What else?"

Slut!

"Speak, then," I reply, while trying to compose myself.

Delphie Coney is not the kind of person I'd like to have as an enemy, but if she was not a Capitolite… oh, in that case… if she was a common girl of District 7, I wouldn't let her treat me like that!

"I sent some supplies…"

"Some supplies!? What you sent won't last long!" I point out, interrupting her.

"You'd better not interrupt me," she replies, glaring at me.

Oh, you can glare at me how much you want, I'm not afraid of a little slut like you!

"Can you please go straight to the point? I'm not here to waste time!"

"You've got nothing else to do but look after your tributes… or, rather, it'd be so, if you were a reliable mentor," she retorts, trying to sound unperturbed, but she actually sounds huffy.

"If you find me unreliable, why are you here?"

"Despite your backfiring attitude, the audience likes your tributes, they expect them to shine… two poor siblings in the arena… we can work on this drama. We need a clear strategy, that's why I'm here. After all these years as a mentor, you should know how the Games work…"

"Yes, they're a great farce, that's what they are!" I say with a slight smirk.

She raises her chin, and the stands up, looking down upon me with a straight face. "Your opinion is as useless as a mentor without sponsors. You'd better be kind to those you have. I've got the power to ruin you and your tributes, and you know it. But if you're kind to me, one of your tributes may win. Start thinking of whom you prefer between Bella and Cedric… oh, why did I tell you that? I already know you prefer girls! Certain perversions are hard to die, aren't they?"

That said, she walks away. Oh, I know what she means by "be kind". Delphie Coney would like everyone to worship her, but I'm not going to become her lapdog just because she can help my tributes! If I have to listen to her chit-chat and get just some bread and water in exchange… well, I'd better find another sponsor.


After centuries (I know), I've finally been able to update this story. To be sincere, it took me more time than expected to write this chapter (especially Hippolyta's POV), so I hope you liked it. Please, leave a review with your opinions/suggestions. Readers' feedback is important for me but also for tributes, who gain points thanks to their reviews.

There were a couple of spoilers in this chapter, and I hope they've aroused your curiosity. Please, stay tuned, the next chapter gonna be about the second night in the arena. I'm going to update Divine Punishment before that, though.

Submitters can assign points to: Victor (D2M), Scarlett (D2F), Cedric (D7M), Bella (D7F), Yolanda (D12F)

Specific questions about mentors:

Hippolyta: do you agree with her or with Saint Ariel Storm?

Hugh: what do you think of him?

Terry: do you think her doubts are reasonable?


*The "maze of underground tunnels" named by Yolanda in chapter 20 (training day1)

**See chapter 6 (D4 Reaping)

***This character was introduced in Divine Punishment chapter 18 (train rides)