Chip Maxen, 13, D12M:
I had a hard time sleeping last night. My muscles are still sore from yesterday's running practice, and I'm hoping Hortensia, the Head Trainer, will stay good on her word that today's exercises will be easier. Getting out of the colossal bed, I head over to the attached bathroom and get in the shower. Washing the leftover grime and sweat from my face, I find myself wondering what the future holds.
It's becoming clearer which tributes have the best shot, with the Careers topping the list. All six of them are clearly strong, far stronger than anybody else, actually. Then again, what was I expecting? A docile, doe-eyed Career Pack who didn't want to hurt anybody and would get fours in training? No, the Careers are the same as they've been every year (muscular, territorial, and mean). The only tributes who are docile and doe-eyed and don't want to hurt anybody and will get fours in training are the younger outlier kids like me.
I have a good alliance, though, and that could be the difference between life and death. Emily, Sorrel, and I might not have had much of a chance on our own, or even just grouped together in a trio, but Griffin and Ardledge are a great help. Hopefully we'll pull our own weight when it comes to finding water, identifying edible plants, performing first aid, and all the other stuff we're learning in the Training Center.
When I'm finished with my shower, I find my training outfit waiting in the hallway. It was apparently washed overnight. I put it on, sit through a quick breakfast, and head into the elevator with Sorrel. "What do you suppose we do in training today?" I ask.
"I don't know. Ardledge will probably tell us." Ardledge is the undisputed leader of the alliance, and his mentor gives him information and directions to relay to the rest of us. Honestly, the whole team would fall apart without him.
The Training Center is just as imposing now as it was yesterday. We're released immediately to do whatever we'd like just after Hortensia explains she'll occasionally be taking breaks downstairs while she reports our progress to the Gamemakers, so Ardledge has us all gather by the archery range and informs us that today we need to learn a weapon. I saunter over to the stacks of weapons at the close combat section, settle on a short, straight dagger, and immediately prove to be terrible at using it.
As it turns out, a thirteen-year-old from District Twelve who's never picked up a knife in his life doesn't naturally get the hang of it, even if there are several trainers present to correct his mistakes. The trainers try to fix everything that I'm doing wrong, but I'm apparently just unteachable. I try to be a good student, and I listen attentively, but I just can't do certain things. It's impossible to stand the strange grip they make me practice since it makes my wrist cramp up. I can't even angle the dagger right because I'm also evidently lacking in depth perception and keep tipping it too far down.
I find I'm forced to give up on daggers, despite everyone's best efforts, I just can't seem to catch on. I instead attempt knife throwing, but my problems with depth perception produce the same results. One of the trainers suggests that my height is adding to the issue. I'm extremely short, and I should've expected it to be a disadvantage. I move on to the spear station, but my lesson ends as quickly as it begins when I accidentally drop a pilum point-down on my foot. Thankfully my thick boot decreased the force, but I'm taken to the medical bay to get it bandaged, and when I return, I attempt archery but since I'm too physically weak to pull back the bowstring, that's also a nonstarter.
I go to the clubs and maces station, where I run into Griffin, who's practicing with a morningstar. "It's easier than you'd expect," he says as he bludgeons a robotic dummy to the ground. "Some of these are actually really light." I select a large bat made of some kind of metal alloy. As I practice on the dummies, I finally find some luck, and I'm hitting them in the right places. Although I'm not strong enough to produce enough impact to knock someone out, let alone kill them, I could probably at least disorient them for a moment or two and give myself a moment or two to dash away.
The running exercise yesterday wasn't my style. I much prefer sprinting, and I'm good at it too. Long distance tires me out way too quickly. The agility course was stressful, but if I was the only person on it and there was no competitive element, it would be really fun to play on. I hope the tests today are less intense. Maybe they'll even involve a shorter run, which would be great. I need my own time to shine. Surprisingly, some of the stronger tributes didn't do so well yesterday. I'm guessing that's why there are six tests total, because people have different strengths and weaknesses. Yesterday's exercises favored smaller, lighter tributes, but perhaps that will change and the tide will turn.
The only thing that's clear is that the Careers will always be at the top. They're the cream of the crop, trained for a decade each at a prestigious school, and they've worked hard for their dream. Us outer district kids see it more as a nightmare, but I think back to Mother and her little philosophy chats over the dinner table. She would probably say something to the effect of that it all has to do with the culture they were raised in. In a place where the Hunger Games are considered a terrible punishment, kids grow up dreading them. In richer districts where they are advertised as an opportunity to find stardom, kids are actually excited for what they believe is their big break into the world of celebrity.
Still, knowing that they're not actually evil doesn't make them any less scary. One of the girls, Eliza, I think, is even shorter than I am, but her toned build compensates for her lack of height. I wonder if she had the same depth perception issue as I do now as I watch her throw knives with considerable skill alongside Oscar, the boy from One. If she ever did, it probably was conquered somewhere along the way in her ten years of professionally supervised murder preparation.
I don't seem to be getting much better using my bat. My muscles are weak, and I'm a scrawny kid. Going to school, although my father claims it helps my mind, appears to have had no positive impact on my body. If I die, I'll never go to school again, but if I win, will I be excused? It would be awfully weird to have a Victor in your class. I imagine I'd get to live with my family in Victor's Village instead. I of course want to see my family, and I have no interest in dying, but the prospect of never having to complete homework again gives me an extra boost of motivation.
The dummy, once turned on, is hard to beat. My best thump to its skull immobilizes it for a very short amount of time, during which I imagine I'd have time to escape. However, I have the trainer switch it back off instead. If I abandoned it, I would be leaving an armed, fully operational dummy loose in the area, and that probably wouldn't go over well with the other tributes in the area.
What I hate about the Capitol is how hyperaware I have to be of my every move. I got to be carefree back in District Twelve. My biggest worries were the occasional bully and getting caught making rude noises from the back of the classroom. It didn't much matter if I got in trouble, because getting in trouble largely meant being told off by a sour-faced teacher, being lectured by one of my parents, or, in extreme cases, earning a whack on the back of the head with a rolled-up piece of paper by the grumpy neighbor lady. It's like my childhood had been robbed from me.
I might have been living in the poor, forgettable district, and it may have been the laughingstock of Panem, but now I have to consider the moral consequences of murder weighed against my own self priority, and I have to remain as composed as an adult in front of the Capitol audience.
I'm the lowest of the low in the hierarchy of potential winners. The tributes at the top are the Careers, of course, plus a few strong outliers like Jenna, Elle, and Radley. Perhaps Ardledge, depending on how good he is with his tanto knife. Griffin, Zea, and Thys from Five are all looking promising as well. My age and inexperience automatically puts me near the bottom, but my height is another ding. The last time my mentor checked the betting board, I was in twenty-third place. "Nothing wrong with that," he said. "You're an underdog. It's not as though the predictions actually mean anything."
The problem is that, like all of the seemingly meaningless things here in the Capitol, the betting is important, because according to my slightly sarcastic escort (who has refused to answer to anything other than Mister Bluehair, for some unknown reason), it guides the sponsorship. Tributes who are pegged for strong contenders will get the highest amount of money donated to their teams. Tributes who are ranked lower sometimes don't get anything.
Things are not looking so well for me at the moment. I know I'm not going to do so well in my private sessions, but if I can manage to summon up some of the humor I seem to have left back in District Twelve, I might make enough of a positive impression to at least convince a few folks that I'm worth it.
As I take another swing at a fresh dummy, I find myself fretting over the lesser known variables: the things the Gamemakers decide. They choose the arena, and the environment, and the temperature. They control whether or not the water is safe to drink and if the tasty-looking fruits actually contain a deadly toxin. They pick what animals and muttations end up in the path of each tribute, they stir up confrontation using disasters, and they can intervene to kill a tribute on the spot or snatch them up from the jaws of death.
The Head Gamemaker is the queen here, and she can set her legions on me if I displease her. As she reigns over her territory, I have to be careful to obey her commands, both the official and the unspoken. I can't be a rebellious tribute. I wouldn't consider critical discussion of the government to count as rebellion, but I've heard plenty of times from Mother that thinking critically, or thinking at all, is a bad idea when in the presence of officials. I have to keep my mouth shut and not say anything stupid. I also need to stay away from the Careers, and all the other strong tributes. No trying to find loopholes in the arena, just play by the rules and do your best to make it out alive. No suicide pacts. No refusing to kill.
I can win if I do that. I don't do so good when given guidelines most of the time, but I'm confident that I can make it happen when my life is on the line. I might not usually do a good job being obedient, but I can settle down and be serious when I need to.
I take on yet another dummy. My accuracy with hitting it is fine, but the power just isn't there. I'm missing the necessary strength. Griffin is doing just fine for himself, and the muscles in his arms bulge as he cocks a morningstar over his head and leaves a pretty severe dent in the artificial head of one of the two dummies he's taking on at once.
Even if I'm not that good at it, I can at least defend myself a little, and Ardledge and Griffin are able to protect me, as well as Sorrel and Emily. We're a good team. We know what we're doing. I'm not automatically going to die because of my age. I'm still capable of winning, and I fully plan on doing so.
Quinten Aramdale, 17, D6M:
Yesterday, I spent most of my time at the camouflage station. It's familiar and simple, plus it's right next to a heating vent. I have always enjoyed painting, and back in District Six, if I happened to find myself with spare time, I'd make something and then sell it in the black market to the rich folks who could afford knick knacks for their houses.
The market is located in an old, rusted-out train terminal with long-faded black letters on the dome that proclaim it to be Derot Station. There are some gaps where letters have fallen, making it actually look like De ro t Station, but nobody knows the original name, and the -rot suffix accurately describes what the damp tunnels primarily contain.
There was a secluded pavilion where people would peddle carvings, sculptures, drawings, any makeshift piece of art the porters and mechanics could craft in their meager time off work with limited funds and supplies. I didn't visit it very often though. I was always afraid to go into the market, but then again, you'd be stupid not to be afraid. Plenty of frightening characters lurk inside its damp, slimy walls. Beauty too though, if you know where to look.
The same seems to be true of the Capitol. Behind the ostentatious costumes, jeering crowds, and trained child killers, there are still moments of happiness, far more than there ever were in Six. When you're getting all gussied up in preparation for dying and the people who greeted you at the train station are betting on whether the girl or the boy from District Two will be the one to kill you and it's still less gloomy than being at home, you know something is very wrong indeed.
The women on my prep team are very kind to me, especially Kaveyah, who brought up dinner to my room when I was feeling like crap yesterday, and the trainers seem genuinely interested in helping me succeed.
Oh, and there's Radley. How do I even begin to describe him? He's simultaneously the prettiest, handsomest, toughest, and nicest person I've ever met all rolled into one. He can beat two trainers at once with a sickle. He's tall, blonde, and gorgeous. Earlier when he was doing chin-ups and his shirt lifted a little, I learned that he has abs. Abs! He and Zea were on the elevator with me and Amiee this morning and he told me he liked my hair. He's so naturally friendly and I'm certain that everyone he encounters falls in love with him immediately. He's everything I've ever dreamed of, wished for, fantasized about, and now we're in the same room and I'm half-considering saying hello.
Unfortunately for me, he's chatting with Jenna, the brawny girl from Seven, as well as Elle from Eight, another strong tribute, who aced both the running and agility examinations yesterday. Especially the agility one, she got the best time out of anybody. Radley and Jenna seem to have accepted her into their group. Even if I did have the courage to interrupt them and ask if I can join, there's nothing useful I can contribute. For now, it looks like I might end up as a lone wolf.
As much as it pains me to say, I've exhausted my options at the camouflage station, and I've already learned about finding water and whatnot. There's no way I'm going to willingly humiliate myself by visiting the athletic courses, so that leaves me with weapons. My hand-eye coordination is basically nonexistent, so there's no chance that any sort of projectile will work well for me. That leaves me with either daggers or spears as the most viable option, since I'm probably not strong enough to use a sword well, and I try to decide between the two.
The close combat practice area is littered with people weaving between blades and around robotic dummies, and several tributes are trying their luck at various sorts of fighting within the enclosed space. I'm terrible with talking, asking questions, and just interacting with other people in general, so that's not my favorite choice so far. My other option is the spear station. There are four spots total, and three are available. It's free of clutter, but there's a Career at it. The girl from District One, I overheard someone calling her Livi earlier, looks primed for attack as she nails her umpteenth perfect throw of the day, embedding the barbed tip of her weapon in the small black dot in the center of the target. Despite her presence, it's the best solution I can come up with.
I tentatively creep towards the range, loitering near the racks until she heads over to snap at me. "Why are you here?" she asks tersely.
"I, well, um, as you can see, I, er... I was, sort of, was going to, you know, practice with the, the, uh, spears."
"I see." She stares down her nose at me before clicking her fingers sharply. "Trainer!" she barks. "I need a trainer!" When one arrives, scuttling up behind her with servile mumblings, she jabs a pointy varnished fingernail directly at my chest. "Fetch this bonehead a spear and keep him out of my way."
"Yes Miss Carnelian, of course I will, Miss Carnelian."
"Then hurry up! And see to it that he does not trouble me any further with his lack of communicative skills."
"Right away, Miss Carnelian." The trainer guides me towards the setup farthest away from her and locates a spear for me. It's much less intricate than the ones Livi is twirling around, with just a long wooden pole and teardrop-shaped blade at the end. "This is a javelin," he says, patting the tip of it. "It's a nice simple weapon to get you started with. See how it's very long? You don't have to throw it, you can just use it to stab whoever comes near you. What's your dominant side? Right? Good, so you'll put your right hand facedown, curling your fingers around to get a nice secure anchor grip. You'll lead with your left hand, though, so hold it palm up. Uh huh, yeah, you splay your fingers out more for this one. Now you can direct it a lot better. If you hold your left hand the same as your right, it goes all wonky, and if you hold your right hand the same as your left, there's no power behind the motion. You can use the spear much more effectively if you hold it properly."
He explains all the little ins and outs of how to hold the spear, how to stand with it, where I can move it, and what I need to do to fight off an approaching enemy tribute. He eventually sets me up across from a dummy and instructs me to injure it as badly as I can. I square up, lower into my stance, adjust my hold, and thrust the javelin exactly the way I was told to. I end up completely missing the dummy. Somebody snickers from behind me, presumably Livi. "I can't do this," I say to the trainer. "I did everything you said and I still failed."
"You didn't fail," he says gently. "It's the first time you've ever tried it. You didn't do that great, sure, but that's to be expected. I'm not going to consider you a lost cause just because you weren't perfect at something you've never done before." He orders me to try again, and I actually manage to nick the dummy's side. "Good job. See, you're already improving." I repeat the process he demonstrated time and time again, with limited success. I reach the point where I'm hitting it every time, but my accuracy varies every single attempt. "Aim for the stomach," suggests the trainer. "You don't have to worry about getting a clean shot through the chest. Pretty much any blow to the stomach can be lethal. Not immediately, but the person will bleed out fairly quickly. If you go for the gut, it won't matter as much if you can hit a consistent angle."
His advice helps, and soon I'm actually faring alright most of the time. I'm not good by any means, but I think I know enough to defend myself from most of my fellow tributes. The exceptions, of course, are the Careers. They're awfully intimidating, especially Livi. At the other end of the range, she's sending spear after spear hurtling into targets. Ten yards, twenty yards, thirty yards, and she can still hit the exact center. I couldn't hope to even throw a spear at all.
The other Careers are equally fearsome, though. Each one is terrifying in their own way. Oscar and Eliza, the boy from One and the girl from Two, are chatting as they challenge one another to beat their record of who can throw the most knives in one minute. Lyra-Rose, the Four girl, is hassling a redheaded boy at the archery range. Trey, the guy from Ten, is off trying to bully the Head Trainer, Hortensia, into firing his Peacekeeper entourage, and Rafe, the other tribute from District Two, is getting into some sort of disagreement at the sickle area with a tall blonde boy. A suspiciously pretty tall blonde boy who I instantly recognize as Radley. I abandon my half hearted attempts to get better with my spear and take a trip to the shelter building station instead, eavesdropping from behind a wilderness survival manual. "Move!" someone is saying. "Get out of my way!"
That one must be Rafe. I peek over the top of the booklet and see a dark-haired guy crossing over to a bin and snagging a shield off the top. He's gesturing wildly with the curved blade in his other hand as he uses the shield to back Radley up into a corner. Radley, with a sickle of his own, appears concerned, evidently debating between calling for help or dealing with an angry Career. In the end, he decides to look Rafe in the eye. "What do you mean? You're pushing me around. How could I possibly be in your way?"
Normally, seeing a handsome, sort of sassy guy get pressed up against a wall would be a little hot, but as it turns out, there's nothing hot about it when weapons and enraged trained murderers are involved. Rafe is tall and powerfully built, but Radley is strong in his own right. I recall a saying I once heard back in Six. This is what happens when an unstoppable force meets an immovable object. Rafe's height advantage of a whopping 6'4" doesn't seem too threatening to Radley, who's only one or two inches shorter, but Rafe's definitely got the upper hand as he essentially slams him in the chest with the shield. It could have been much worse, but since Radley was sparring with an instructor a few minutes ago, he's still wearing padding and was mostly protected. "You got in the way of my target!" Rafe roars.
It's becoming increasingly evident that Rafe has a serious temper and isn't interested in controlling his actions. He's fuming, waving his sickle aimlessly, and for a terrible few milliseconds, I'm afraid he's going to cause him some serious bodily harm. Unfortunately, Hortensia's nowhere to be seen. She had said that she'd be visiting the Gamemaking Room every so often to report to Lucent Saccharyn, the woman running this whole operation, and none of her trainers are doing anything to end the confrontation. The room is so big most tributes, and therefore trainers, are spread out and not even aware of what's going on. Either they can't do anything without her orders or they're just too afraid to step in. If so, I can't blame them. I really don't want to see Radley get hurt, but I'm not brave enough to say something and face Rafe's wrath. After some further roughhousing, one of the hand to hand combat people notices and decides to take charge. He marches over from across the room and demands that Rafe let Radley go. "Of course, sir," Rafe says smoothly. "It was nothing but a little rough housing. Boys will be boys, you know."
He plays it off so well that I myself almost forget what just went down mere seconds ago. Rafe apparently can talk his way out of trouble pretty well, but when he shoots a murderous glare at Radley, it's obvious what message he's conveying. Radley will become his prime target in the Bloodbath, and it's unlikely he'll escape unscathed.
It's becoming clear that Rafe and Livi are the two most dominant Careers, and despite how haughty she was earlier, I'm hoping Livi wins out. After all, she at least seems to have some composure. I'm suddenly glad to have developed a body of knowledge about a weapon, no matter how small. Radley, still a bit rattled, detaches himself from the group of trainers at the close combat area, and it occurs to me I should start reading the survival guide for real before he catches me staring. And also because I could use the help.
Radley walks by my station, eyes skimming over me without a moment's pause, and I suddenly feel a lot more tired and defeated than I realized. Maybe it's because it's been a long couple of days, maybe it's just because I'm scared of Rafe, but what concerns me the most is how deflated and hollow I felt when Radley didn't notice me.
Amiee was right when she said falling in love in the Hunger Games is a bad idea.
Livieoula "Livi" Carnelian, 18, D1F:
The Capitol spears are fun to play with. There are so many different varieties to choose from. I don't truly need these days of training, so I've decided to just try out as many different sorts of spears as I can. That way I'll be extra prepared if the Gamemakers decide to put only the rarer varieties in the Cornucopia. I'm not particularly worried about that possibility, but I also suspect that practicing with many types of spears might earn me some brownie points, especially if I incorporate it in my private session.
After all, I have to put on a show if I want a good training score, and boy do I want a good training score. I might be a little arrogant, but I'm not stupid. Even though none of the outer district kids are an actual threat, Rafe poses serious competition. I need to take control of the Career Pack, and my chances of becoming the Victor decrease if Rafe becomes leader instead. We agreed that honor belongs to whoever scores highest, but Rafe is not an easy rival to beat. If I'm going to defeat him, I can't rely on luck. I've got to have some serious skills to back up all my talk.
As a result, although I'm still throwing my spears, I'm functioning on autopilot. My mind is in an entirely different place, and I've spent quite a bit of my time theorizing about what Rafe might do for his session, how I can counteract them, and which things the Gamemakers will be looking for most. I've also been watching Rafe from across the room, and his range of ability with most every item he picks up is definitely becoming concerning. His primary weapon is a type of sabre sword called a dao, and despite being competent with other kinds of weapons as well, his fighting style even for his best weapon lacks in refinement. That's the cost of training with many things as opposed to one or two. Most Careers have a weapon of choice and a backup, and we get to be really good with them since all of our energy is devoted to a single area. Rafe had traded that excellency in onne for proficiency in many, but that might hurt him in the long run.
If he picks anything other than his sabre, I'll almost certainly emerge as the winner. However, Rafe is smart. He'll definitely be using his primary weapon. Should he demonstrate his skills with other weapons as well, I might run into some snags. I've decided that since I'm also pretty good at archery, I'll employ that as well. I want to show the Gamemakers my absolute maximum potential, especially because this will be my one and only audience with them. This is the bit when the Gamemakers make both personal and professional judgements of us tributes. If they take a liking to me, I'll be safer from the pitfalls of the arena.
I expect that the Gamemakers will be prioritizing accuracy, with speed and creativity as secondary goals. They'll prefer tributes who display their abilities well to those who complete tasks quickly or do trick shots. However, those things might help an already strong performance get a slightly higher score. I need to spice up my session a little to have the best chance of outscoring Rafe, who's currently having a go at some boxing and seemingly doing pretty well.
Trey was doing the same thing earlier, but was nowhere near as good at it. He seems to not have much experience fighting people who are similar to him in size and strength, so he'll have to rely very heavily on his switchblade in the arena if he comes upon a larger tribute, especially one that has some combat ability. I find myself thinking about the District Four boy, Ardledge, which ends up with me scanning the room for Lyra-Rose, our resident princess type.
She's at the archery range, exactly where I left her this morning, but I didn't see her right away since she was behind a rack of arrows. She's an excellent archer, spot on, actually, but only accurate within a short range. I watch her fire from the twenty yard line and proceed so swear as her bolt flies wide and nearly takes out Eliza at the knife throwing area.
Eliza's not my favorite person, but she's easy enough to get along with. She's one of the more observant Careers, and I saw her studying my form yesterday. I know plenty well what my weaknesses are, so thankfully she won't be able to catch me by surprise, but there's still a possibility I could fall short anyway. Still, I know how to compensate for my lack of spear throwing on my left side. It seems like a glaring problem, but I've developed blocking skills to employ my weapons equally expertly, defending with my left arm and attacking with my right. I'm no amateur.
Whether or not Oscar is? That's still up for debate. Sometimes he seems to really know what he's doing, and he's got great knife throwing technique, but he caves the instant someone tries to bully him a little. His mental fortitude is severely lacking, and I almost pity him for his fragility. In all fairness, he has been propping me up as the best choice for the leadership position, and he takes orders well enough. I'm glad he's not pushing back against my directions too much. In fact, he's terrified to challenge me. I don't particularly care for him, but I have no interest in making him miserable just for the sake of tormenting him.
The terms of the deal we made were that if he backed me up and I became the leader, I'd make him a deputy of sorts and cut him in on the rewards and extra supplies that I'll have access to. If he gets too subservient in the time being, he won't be able to help enforce my rules once I'm in charge, and I don't want that. My current tactic has been acting a little friendlier to him so he'll be more comfortable working alongside me in the future.
Then, of course, he'll help me and the rest of the Pack kill off the outer district tributes. I'm not really worried about them, since they have no training whatsoever, but some have been getting on my nerves a little. For instance, the little gymnast girl from Eight. She barged into the knife throwing range yesterday and tried to kick Eliza out so she could practice. I waved the rest of the Careers over right away and we scared her off, but she was awfully mouthy the entire time.
As anybody with half a brain could tell you, getting snarky with us is an exceedingly poor choice. Her idiocy immediately bumped her up to the top of my kill list. From what I can tell, she's agile and flexible (she did the best out of anyone on the course yesterday) and she's recently joined Radley from Nine and Jenna from Seven in their alliance. Radley can use a sickle with some skill, and Jenna's quite good with her axe, so Elle's mediocre knife throwing might not be enough for them. She's the weak link, and my guess is that they'll turn on her even if she manages to escape me in the Bloodbath.
There are some other tributes we've decided to target as well. Trey is planning to go after Emily–apparently they have history–and has an axe to grind with Damon as well (no pun intended) for giving him a hard time yesterday at the axe station and tattling to Hortensia about his stolen token. Eliza's aiding in my quest to take out Elle, and to a lesser extent, so is Oscar. Lyra has a grudge against Ardledge, her district partner, for not joining the Careers, which Rafe heartily disagreed with. "I chatted with him for a moment yesterday, and he was nice enough," Rafe explained. "He'll obviously have to die at some point for one of us to win, but he's not a priority." As a result, it's unclear if the crusade on Ardledge will actually be happening or not. Rafe does have a problem with Radley though, apparently they got into a scuffle over at the close combat area, although he refused to elaborate further, so Radley is pretty much done for. Rafe might not have the most sophisticated technique, but he's deadly all the same.
Surprisingly, the little girl from Six, Amiee, is a bit of a natural knife thrower, although nowhere near as natural as Zea from Nine. Yes, she's a little clunky, but at least she's less irritating than her district partner, Quinten. I suppose it's not his fault that he's incapable of answering a question without stumbling over his words, but it was bothersome nonetheless. Really, I did him a great service by sending a trainer to help him. Even though he's developed a minimal grasp of the stabbing and thrusting motions of the spear, he's still nowhere near capable enough to beat me, or even one of the weaker Careers.
I'd wager he'll be a mid-range death. He's been at the camouflage station for quite some time, but that won't carry him all the way through the Hunger Games. After all, he can't stay hidden forever or he'll starve or die of dehydration. At that point, the field will have thinned plenty and us Careers will be actively searching for tributes to kill. There's no chance he can survive long past that. I won't deliberately set my sights on him though, he'll have plenty of problems even without my intervention.
I wonder what sorts of things the Gamemakers will come up with. It's never good when the Gamemakers get creative, and unfortunately, they always save their most unconventional, never before seen plans for Quarter Quell years. A basic meadow or jungle arena simply won't cut it. Neither will the usual rotation of mutts and the typical feast events when things get dull. These Hunger Games will be designed to last for a long time and keep us tributes on our toes.
The reason for this is simple. The idea is to slowly build suspense and increase the viewers' interest in the programming, generating more betting and sponsorship to keep things extra exciting. The Hunger Games become boring if the tributes die too quickly at one another's hands with none of the enticing drama to go with the bloodshed. However, they also get dull if there are long stretches with no activity, but this way, with creativity from the Gamemakers, there are plenty of injuries and upsets even if nobody gets killed for a few days.
I've heard of Quarter Quells lasting as long as a month. With all that time, sponsors are inclined to spend lots of money to give their favorites additional advantages via purchasing gifts. There will be obstacles at every turn, and I must overcome each one with ease and aplomb if I want the audience to support me. I keep the Quarter Quell twist at the forefront of my mind. Sponsor gifts will be more expensive, and there will be fewer supplies. That means that the arena will have to provide food and water on its own. Where will they be found? What might the terrain be? What unexpected things will I have to watch out for? There are so many unknowns. I can overcome all of my fellow tributes easily, but the Gamemakers will subject me to the same grueling trials of survival as everyone else. They're the only ones who can touch me, to be honest.
I spin my spear around before throwing it again. There's something satisfying about the way it smacks into the firm surface of the target. When it comes to spears, I'm unbeatable. I look over at my allies and begin to assess their weaknesses as I wait to be dismissed for lunch. I've been working up a sweat and training hard all morning, and I'm looking forward to a hardy, hot meal with the other Careers. Oscar and Eliza are still at the knife range, and pretty evenly matched in skill. Eliza's got slightly better form and is a tad more accurate, but Oscar can deliver a perfect throw in the center ring from a few feet farther back than she can. Accounting for everything, it's clear their weakness lies in close combat. Throwing knives are useful for long range, but not good for much else except perhaps some good old fashioned torture.
That's the glorious thing about spears. They're useful no matter how far away you are from your victim. There's really no reason a Career would need to torture someone, although I did hear Trey muttering something about sharpening his knife on Emily's shinbones. I'm sure he was just kidding, though. You'd have to be insane to do that. I feel uncomfortable with torture in general. Why would anyone want to inflict gratuitous amounts of pain on another person? It's gross, it's sadistic, it's unnecessary, and if Trey goes beyond his threats and actually attempts anything of the sort, he'll be out of the Pack in a heartbeat. I don't need nutjobs on my team.
I also don't need charmers on my team, so Lyra-Rose will be the first to go when it comes to that. She'll be helpful at first, but let's face it, I can also shoot perfectly with a bow and arrow from ten yards away. She's just sort of pathetic as a Career, and mainly relies on being pretty and making nasty jokes about some of the outer district kids. It's rather pointless, and just plain mean spirited. As a Career, I'm already a villain in the eyes of the outliers, but hey, even evil has standards. Some of those standards include being able to provide unique skills to benefit the alliance, and Lyra isn't meeting them. We all know what happens to Careers who can't hold their own. A quick death as soon as the starting klaxon sounds, when their allies go behind their back and dispose of them.
I have zero problems with getting rid of her. The girl's only personality trait is having boobs, and as a fellow blonde, her dimwittedness, cattiness, and weird obsession with putting other people down reflects poorly on all of us. I'm sure Eliza would agree that we don't claim that prissy thing as one of our own. Her main hobby seems to be attempting to flirt with each one of the Career boys. Even Rafe, who tries to sleep with anything that moves, refuses to give her any attention.
I don't need romance, I don't need redundancy, and I don't need infighting. As far as I'm concerned, if she doesn't kill anyone in the Bloodbath, it's a spear in the throat for Princess Perfect. I want to win the Hunger Games, and I will win the Hunger Games, just try and stop me.
I'll win even if Rafe somehow manages to get control of the Career Pack, which he won't, because I'm going to earn the highest training score. I can overcome anything the Gamemakers throw at me, no matter how unprecedented or dangerously creative it might be. I'll please the sponsors and represent District One well and bring honor, glory, and wealth to my family. When President Mikhail places the Victory crown on my head, I want him to be genuinely proud of me and happy to do so. I know what the people want, and I'm going to give it to them.
I glance over at some of the younger tributes. They might be hiding some secret talents, but they look too inept to be totally faking it. They have a decent understanding of the survival stations, but they're totally lost when it comes to weapons. After annoying Trey, Damon and Emily in particular won't be around for very long.
I question if I need the survival stations, but quickly remember how resolute I am to take the Cornucopia. Despite the twist, us Careers will still have plenty of supplies, and as the leader, I'll get first dibs. There's no need for me to worry.
Looking around the room, I check the clock. Only a few minutes remain until mealtime, and I'm happy to see the second hand twitch onwards. I feel as though I'm starving. The truth is, I'm the best tribute overall, by a long shot. I came here to kill it, both literally and metaphorically, and I plan to do just that. I will not be frightened by the fools wh think they can beat me.
I happen to see Hortensia standing in the center of the room, hand on her lanyard, and I have the good sense to clap my hands over my ears just before she finds what she's looking for and blows her whistle, producing a piercing trill. "Lunch," she announces, "Will begin shortly. Yesterday some of you did not heed my warning and regretted it dearly. I'd encourage you to not drink too much water, and also to lay off the sweet candies and desserts. You'll have more tests after lunch. Spend your time wisely, children." She ushers us into the Training Center's private cafeteria, where my fellow Careers and I immediately gather at the front of the line, loading up our plates and hogging the best table. "Let's strategize," Rafe says. "We need to figure out how to dispatch each and every tribute here."
"Anyone in particular we should focus on?" Trey raises a forkful of braised veal to his mouth, the meat probably originating from his own district.
A grim smirk plays on Rafe's lips. "Yeah. Radley."
Hey y'all!
I hope you liked this chapter. The next one will hopefully be released on Friday. In the meantime, I have a new poll up. I know I've been a little off my projected schedule recently. My school just switched to a hybrid model after spending the past year fully online, and I've never been on campus before, so it's quite the adjustment and I've had a little less time to write. I'm so excited to have another training chapter up though, and I'll do my best to keep them coming! I also have some news for you: next week, I have time off for spring break. As a result, I'll be writing a chapter each day for eleven days in a row, so you can expect the pace of this story to pick up a little!
– LC :)