Soren Ventra, 15, D3M:
I'm just about ready to stick a fork (or perhaps an arrow or throwing knife) in my eye when Hortensia finally dismisses us. "About time," I grouse to Pola. "It was horribly boring to just sit in the corner the whole day. She's treating me like a toddler! She literally put me in time out!"
"That's not quite accurate. You were interfering with her ability to do her job because you kept whining and begging her to let you go early, so much so that she couldn't hold a conversation with the Head Gamemaker. And then you interrupted the Head Gamemaker herself to ask Hortensia if you really weren't allowed to leave."
"So her solution was to banish me to the naughty bench?"
"She also gave you the option to train."
"She knew I wouldn't do that! She deliberately punished me because she is mean and horrible!"
"You deserved it for being such a nuisance." Pola calmly returns the dagger she was practicing with to its rack, then drags me into a standing position by my shoulder. "Also, I think you owe Hortensia an apology. Come along." As we join the procession of other tributes, including our new ally Zea, filing into the elevator in groups, Pola hangs back, keeping me with her. As Hortensia walks over to us, Pola elbows me in the ribs. "Thank you for your help today, ma'am. If you'd stay a moment, I think Soren has something to say to you." I already know what Pola wants me to say, but my patience has worn thin, and apologizing seems like the quickest path to finally going back to the apartment.
"Sorry for making your job harder," I say quietly. Hortensia has the nerve to ruffle my hair and smile sweetly.
"That's alright, Soren. Just try not to be so underfoot tomorrow." Somehow it's the worst thing she could have done, since it reminds me so much of something Genevieve might say. Pola leads me into the elevator and we return to our apartment, where my mentor, last year's Victor and only fourteen, is scowling in the doorway with his arms crossed.
"Soren." he says crisply.
"Sage."
"I just received a call from the Head Gamemaker."
"And why should I care?"
"She said you weren't training at all today. Whyever not?"
"Because why would I? And why does it matter to you if I don't want to perform like a fool in front of the Capitolites?"
"Shush. Stop talking like that and come inside." He ushers me into the suite and orders me to sit down. Why does everyone keep bossing me around here? It's only marginally better than living under Miss Marlowe at the reformatory. At least nobody here hits me. Then again, soon they'll be trying to kill me, so that might not particularly matter anymore. Sage lectures me all about why he needs me to put in effort, but there's no reason why I should bother, especially when Pola and Zea are here to bail me out of trouble. "Please promise me you'll train with something tomorrow," he asks. I lean back in my chair, tilting it up and balancing it on two legs.
"How about no."
Griffin Jagger, 17, D11M:
I feel really bad that the Seven boy, Damon, has a target on his back, but it's a great relief that Trey's now on probation. Having a Peacekeeper watching his movements takes a whole lot of pressure off Ardledge and I, since we don't have to pour quite so much energy into looking after Emily. I really want to keep her and all of my other allies safe. I'm worried that the Careers will attack us in the Bloodbath since we're obviously one of the larger groups.
My mentor, along with Soya's, is passed out in the living room, our escort tiptoeing around their sprawled forms to collect the empty bottles and glasses that once contained alcohol. Soya herself has shut herself in her bedroom and is eating her dinner there, and I poke listlessly at my plate, sitting at the dining table all alone. Once I've eaten just enough to banish my hunger, I ask the escort if I'm excused. "Do you think I care? I'm looking after two drunkards and acting like a maid! Do whatever you want so long as you don't burn the building down."
I was planning on asking his express permission, but I take his reply as a go-ahead, so I head back to the elevator and travel to the floor where District Four's team is located. Ardledge was kind enough to offer to share his mentor with me, and I'd like to pay both of them a visit. Lyra-Rose, the snobbiest of the Careers, practically snarls at me when I push open the door. "Why are you here? Ardledge, did you invite your stupid outlier friend in our apartment?" A dress shoe comes sailing out from around a corner and thwacks her in the back of the head.
"Shut up!" Griffin the mentor follows his projectile and greets me with a frown. "I am getting very tired of that girl," he mutters. "Very well, come along." He brings me into Ardledge's room and sits on the chair, leaving me to curl up on the bed next to my ally. "Okay, I want to chat about strategy. Ardledge, I know that you already practiced with your dagger. Tomorrow, I want you to focus on your second task. Remind me, which one did you choose?"
"First aid."
"Ah, yes, that sounds right. I need you to practice that. Griffin, you and the others in the alliance will be learning how to use your weapons of choice. Since you seem to have some strength in your arms, I'd recommend something fairly close range. Perhaps a sledgehammer or another bludgeon of that nature. I want you to hold back a little. You're at lower risk of being noticed by the Careers if you seem mediocre. The same goes for your private session in a few days. Don't stick out. That goes for both of you, actually. Now Griffin, if it's alright with you, I'll be speaking with your escort about formally permitting me to authorize sponsorship deals for both you and your district partner. Will you let me do that?"
"Oh gosh, would you?"
"Of course I would." Griffin soon sends me upstairs to go to bed, but I'm very thankful that I finally have a capable, responsible adult on my side, and for once it's easy to go to sleep.
Amiee Smith, 13, D6F:
The District Three mentors are quiet and not very good at their jobs, but at least they're trying. Tonight they and the escort are out trying to drum up some sponsors, so they've called in the stylists and prep teams to babysit us. The stylists are so at odds with each other that it's comedic seeing them interact. Quinten is deep in conversation with one of the members of his prep team, Kaveyah, and I hear them mention Jenna. If my suspicions are correct, and she's the object of Quinten's newfound affection, the alliances are probably going to get very messy.
I myself haven't teamed up with anybody, but it's looking less likely that Quinten and I will eventually ally. I don't want to be in a group with someone whose attention is diverted, and besides, he doesn't seem strong enough to make up for his lovesickness. He's just too distracted. The day wasn't a complete waste, though, because I did learn to throw some knives. Unfortunately, I've also ticked off the Careers. I wasn't the one to mouth off to them, the Eight girl was, but they might go after me just the same. After all, my age and inexperience make me a very attractive victim.
My main strategy during the Hunger Games is going to be hiding and running, and I'm still considering what skills I need to learn. So far I'm considering finding water, learning about edible plants, the basics. I want to survive and become the Victor, and it won't matter how great my knife throwing is if I'm without food or dying of thirst. I know I need some allies, but I also haven't spoken to very many people yet.
Tomorrow I really need to make a friend or two. The Capitol is crazy and intimidating, but I've got to keep training hard and learning how to protect myself. Especially after the Careers got a look at me, I'm being forced to make risky moves, and I just hope that they pay off in the end. I hope that my mentor is having good luck gathering sponsors for me, and I hope he'll have even better luck once I get a good score in my private session the day after tomorrow.
Hey y'all! I've got yet another poll up on my profile regarding training scores, but I don't really have anything to say except that the next chapter is coming out tomorrow.
– LC :)