Meet the Mentors, continued:

District 11

Oregano Upple was particularly famous for his keen hearing.

And when he found himself in the Capitol every year since his victory sending yet another two kids off the slaughter, he'd be listening as much as he could. Around corners, in the hall, lurking in the shadows were the vapid airheads never noticed. It was hilarious how many details people let loose when they thought nobody was around. God, if he were to reveal any of this information, he could shake the entirety of Panem to the ground.

Often, Capitolites tended to say more than they should've. Often, Oregano was there. They just didn't think he was important enough to stay away from. Which was both insulting and amusing at the same time. People called Oregano the most underrated Victor in Panem for a reason.

In the weeks leading up to the 101st Hunger Games, he was out on his daily walk with his wife at his side. Mariah was quite chatty but Oregano didn't mind, because he had always been a quiet kind of guy. He just liked to listen, especially when Mariah had such wonderful things to tell him.

They passed by a pair of older men somewhere in their forties who were having an animated conversation. Neither Upple thought much of it, because you could pretty much walk anywhere that wasn't the orchards in 11. As long as you were obedient, there was nothing to fear.

The men lowered their voices as they brushed past Oregano, but he could still catch some of their words. Plus, their body language more or less gave them away. After all, unless you were planning something against the great and glorious Capitol, what secrets did you have to hide?

Everyone had secrets.

He decided to just ignore it.

It wasn't worth the risk anymore.

11 was a hotspot for secret rebel activity and Oregano knew that his safest option was to just pretend he never noticed.

It was what Paprika, District 11's only other mentor, taught him. She had been around when 11 went through two years of unrest during the 74th and 75th Hunger Games. She could still vividly recall what she was doing that night when for a brief moment, the Capitol lost control of the districts.

The Peacekeeper and Capitol crackdown had been tough on everyone. Many people were killed shortly afterwards.

Paprika said it was horrible. That it made the Hunger Games look like fucking child's play.

Oregano grew up looking over his shoulder. He learned very quickly how to keep his mouth shut. While training him for the arena, Paprika spent as much time as she could coaching him on how to hide his past and say what the Capitol wanted him to say. She knew how to play the game better than he did. She was a true expert at it, even if many of her tributes weren't. If Oregano had secrets, then Paprika had information to burn Panem to the ground.

If those guys wanted to rebel, that was not his problem. Oregano was not getting involved and this could not be traced back to him. Tough break, Peacekeepers. They'd never catch him slipping up. Paprika had trained him way too well.

He went back to listening to Mariah's rambling about how her day went. He'd talk to Paprika later, to catch the underground whispering of movements that technically didn't exist and couldn't be proven, but were carried in looks and in hearts.

Nothing suspicious to the Capitol or anything, at least from the ground up. Peacekeepers could turn a blind eye and life would go on.

District 9

In a sense, to Addy, Desmond was like her second child.

It wasn't that big of a deal or anything. There were tons of Victors who saw their younger charges in a similar light. But for Addy, it really was true. She had gone 15 years without any luck and was right on the verge of giving up, when Desmond pulled the win off from out of nowhere and gave 9 their much needed hope. And he brought back that strength she needed to keep going.

So he was always welcome in her home.

"Would you like any pancakes?" Addy asked him. She had just finished making breakfast. And at any rate, it looked like her son would scarf all his food down and be out the door to go play with his friends. Not that Addy minded being alone, because she was certainly used to keeping to herself. Benjamin was at that age too. Too old for a mother's smothering and whatnot. Damn teenagers.

Desmond would be allowed to stay as long as he wanted. She would never say no to the company of someone who understood her plight.

"Pancakes sound nice," Desmond said politely. Addy nodded, then turned her attention back to the stove. It didn't take long for both Victors to be sitting across from each other, a big stack of freshly prepared pancakes in between the two of them. Benjamin had long since run outside.

It was a familiar scene. Addy was a bit of a social recluse and Desmond had some major trust issues. She was a mild-mannered mother in pink fuzzy slippers an a messy apron, her hair tied back. Desmond grew his locks past his shoulders and was barefoot with a leather jacket tied around his waist.

But they were perfectly comfortable sitting together and just minding their own business, letting the day pass them by. No matter how different they were, they were Victors and they always knew how hard the title was on the other.

"Anything on the agenda?" Desmond said through bites of a pancake.
"No. Same old. Perhaps I'll tend to my garden later on."
Desmond laughed. "Oh well. It must sound really nice."

"It's a bit boring," Addy admitted. "But I'm okay with boring, I suppose. I've had my fair share of an exciting life and getting in sticky situations and the like. And little Benji needs me to be his mother right now, not an adventurer."

"He's not so little anymore." Desmond chuckled into his coffee. "Look at him. He didn't even bother to stop and say hello to me at the door! Come on, Ads! Where was my 'hi Uncle Desmond!' greeting? Where was my hug?"

"He's at that phase now." Addy laughed, then sighed. "He thinks having a Victor for a mother is super embarrassing. Always seems ready to get his friends away from the house so they don't see me doting on him, or how much money we have. I don't want him to feel alienated so I've just stayed out of it. I hope this is just a phase."

"It is a phase."
"You sound quite certain."

Desmond shrugged. "I mean, I'm no mother like you. But kids will be kids and they get embarrassed by the strangest stuff sometimes. He'll grow out of it. He'll realize how good of a parent you are and how lucky he is to have you. And Addy, I believe you're one the best that I've ever had."

Finally someone who got her. Addy gave her fellow Victor a smile.

District 7

Though there was no Victor in Panem who was a bigger mama bear than Acacia Bell. It didn't matter whether you were a big kid, a little kid, too old to be parented, whatever. You need help? You go to Acacia Bell.

She frowned to herself as she fussed over the small, barely noticeable cuts that lined Baron's arms. "Ugh. Dear, when you go out into the forest, you have to be more careful! Look at this! Hey, look at your arm! These could get infected!"

"Acacia, these are just - ow - they're just really small nicks. They will heal on their own." Baron hissed slightly as Acacia dabbed more rubbing alcohol onto his arm. He had found out the hard way the whole mama bear thing.

"What were you even going into the forest for? You don't need to work."
"I don't know. Just felt like...visiting? I guess? Wanted to walk around? I kind of miss it. It's not a big deal."

That got Baron a shake of the head of his fellow mentor. Acacia wasn't having it. "Baron, you should know better. You need to be more careful. People don't take the forest seriously enough and that's how we have accidents. There are rumours of some unsavoury folks who go there. You could end up in serious trouble. The Games are in a month and I am not mentoring alone!"

As far as Baron was concerned, the forests were the safest place to be in 7. Far from listening ears and secretive eyes. For those born in the lumber district, the forests were more like home than the buildings they made from the trunks. It was as natural as breathing and eating and drinking. Kids learned to climb a tree before they learned to read or write.

At least that was the way it was for Baron when he was younger. Acacia was a bit of a different story.

The Capitol didn't speak forest the way the citizens of 7 could. Capitolites were too arrogant and loud and obnoxious to ever bother learning the language of trees. Or how it connected the entire district together. Poor or rich, the forest was there for you. Even the Victors were still connected to the trees and the grass, despite the distance between the woods and their homes.

Maybe some Capitol ran through Baron and Acacia's veins, injected inside by the doctors who lifted them out of the arena. But they were still 7 through and through.

That didn't mean accidents weren't a thing. Acacia was certainly proof of that. But they didn't happen to the degree she often insisted. And Baron's injuries weren't even from the forest, but from the ravine he fell into when he helped an old woman catch her loose dog. He decided not to bring it up. Acacia was just playing the overprotective mother again. It was better to let her fuss, rather than him remind her of something painful.

She meant well. He didn't mean to make her worry. He didn't like making her worry.

"Okay, okay, okay! Acacia, I'm good. Alright? I'm good." Baron pulled his arm back as Acacia got one last dab of rubbing alcohol on him, then let the cotton ball she was using drop onto the table. He tugged his sleeve down to his wrist. "I swear, I'm not gonna do anything that's gonna get me killed. And trust me, I will not do anything that will have me dead in less then a month."

"Baron..."
"I kid, I kid, I kid. Sorry. I appreciate your worry, but it'll be fine."

The smallest of grins played onto Acacia's face. "I'm just trying to help."
"Of course."

Acacia sighed as she screwed the lid back onto the bottle of rubbing alcohol. "I know, Baron. Oh, look at me. I get overbearing sometimes and I don't really have anybody here to smother. Except my daughter and you, I suppose. I should really get out more."

Baron grinned. "Come with me for a walk in the woods. Might actually help."

District 6

When Dolly showed up at his door for dinner, Maxon was barely surprised anymore.

If anything, he'd be concerned if she wasn't there. Her standing on his doorstep was pretty much a daily ritual at this point. They had been doing this for almost thirteen years and barely skipped the event, unless one of them had Capitol obligations or was too sick out get out of bed.

Plus, it was nice to have someone over who was actually guaranteed to help out with the dishes. He loved his kids, but they would rather do anything else than join him in cleaning up. Boring adult work, they called it. And unfortunately, every single time it came to the question of who was doing the dishes, Maxon was always outnumbered four to one.

Dolly handed him a new dish wrapped in tinfoil. "Hey Maxon! I brought dessert. Key lime pie."
"I didn't know you could bake."
"Ha ha, very funny."

"Auntie Dolly!" Solomon, Maxon's five year-old nephew, was clinging to his uncle's leg like it was a new toy. He eagerly waved at his favourite auntie, who picked him up and bounced him in her arms. "Hey Solly! You were a good boy for your uncle today?"

"Yeah! I'm always a good boy!"
Dolly ruffled his hair. "Oh, I'm sure you are. Smells good. Whatcha cookin'?"
"Why don't you come in and find out?"

Maxon led the trio of them into the kitchen, with Solomon insisting on pulling Dolly along, just in case she got lost in the house she had been visiting for over a decade at this point. In the dining room, Maxon's three other kids were already waiting for dinner to be served. Their faces lit up when they saw Dolly, their de-facto big sister. Man, it was strange for Dolly to think about how she was barely older than Maxon's kids, but she just rolled with it at this point.

"Hey guys!" Dolly passed out a round of high fives. "Ada, Carl, Moxie. How's everyone doing tonight?"

"Dad's taking me to the Capitol next week for my bottom surgery!" Ada announced with gleaming eyes. She took Moxie's hand and they both stared at each other giddily.
"Really? Ada, that's awesome! I'm so excited for you. Maxon, you take my girl here to the best damn doctor the Capitol's got to offer."

"Of course, dears." Maxon freed his leg from Solomon's sticky fingers. "I'll make that everything is paid for and done safely. Solomon, please go wash your hands."

Maxon's house was probably the warmest place in District 6, full of his love and compassion that he was always willing to share. No wonder Dolly came over so much. Although Maxon knew her situation was a bit different, because he was her de-facto family. She didn't have anyone else left that she loved.

So he let her have him. The Capitol media didn't dote on his altruistic nature for nothing.

The food went fast, especially when divided up among six people. And of course, it was up to the two Victors to take care of all the dirty dishes while the kids scattered. Moxie, Carl, and Ada were upstairs in an instant, either to do homework or whatever else. Solomon stayed at the dinner table, trying to pick some whipped cream off the leftover key lime pie with his fork.

As Maxon picked up a dry towel, Solomon grabbed the end of it and tugged. "Uncle Maxon! I wanna help!"
"You never want to help Auntie Dolly and I, Solly." Maxon laughed, then raised an eyebrow. "Why, what did you break this time?"

"Nothing! I'm a good boy!"

Maxon let go of the towel; he'd investigate later. "Oh, of course. I'm sure you are. Go start drying those forks, okay? We have the cups coming up next."
"Okay. Look! Uncle, look! I'm drying!"

Maxon's house would always be the brightest. Mainly because the rest of the houses in Victor's Village were empty.

District 3

Bennet was used to being alone at this point.

The lone survivor of the 87th Hunger Games. The lone living Victor of District 3. The black sheep of his district. Et cetera, et cetera, get on with it already. He was over it by now. The silence didn't bother him anymore. If he spent way too much time worrying what other people would think, he never would've made it to where he was.

Hell, his entire strategy for winning thrived on being the most unpopular tribute in the Games.

It was late. The world was quiet outside. Both his infant son and his girlfriend were asleep while he sat in his favourite armchair downstairs with a glass of whiskey. Yep. Girlfriend. Not wife. Not even fiancee! Girlfriend.

He and Tina had been dating for over ten years and he still had yet to pop the question to her. He knew she was waiting, but she was way too polite to say anything, until he felt ready to go for it. What was he waiting for anyways? They had a family together, for crying out loud! All that was left was to make it official.

Wasn't that rich. The rumours would've said he was afraid of commitment or something. That he was a deadbeat. That he was using their kid to trap Tina in a toxic relationship with him, that he never truly loved her from the start. Colourful, imaginative lies that were like daggers to his heart, to accuse him of hurting the girl he loved. After all, as far as the rest of District 3 was concerned, Bennet was a monster.

Since when has a monster ever learned to love?

Yeesh. No wonder he was never motivated to actually bring anyone's kids home from the Games.

Bennet liked staying up late, being alone in the dark with his thoughts. The dark was a strange little comfort to him and he was more than happy to envelop himself in it. Here, nobody could get to him and remind him about how big of a piece of shit he was.

He already knew. Tina was way too good for him anyways.

In two weeks, the Reaping would be back again, this time for the 101st Hunger Games. Damn, had it really been going on for this long? And considering their economic status, 3 had produced a pretty pathetic number of Victors. Even worse, they had been doing so well until Wiress and Beetee's untimely deaths in the Third Quarter Quell.

Many other districts were getting their shit together to at least challenge the Careers, if not rival them. 5 got their stupid little Academy up and running. Hell, even 10 and 11 had more Victors than District 3. The technology district was tied with the fucking coal miners at this point. What was Bennet doing wrong?

Oh right. He didn't care.

Perhaps it was childish to hold onto a grudge for so long. The girl who wronged him and ruined his life was dead, at his own hands too. He hadn't spoken to his parents or baby brother in years, he never had many friends to begin with, and he knew Tina was never gonna leave him. And he was a father. Who wouldn't be proud of that? He was gonna be a better guardian than most of the adults in his life were. He wasn't gonna disown his baby, or out him, or leave him to die for the most minor of disappointments.

So, why not let go of the past?

Why not move on?

Someday, someday. Heck, once he did, he'd probably be a way better mentor too. He'd actually get a kid home, alive this time. Maybe redeem himself, at least a little bit. But Bennet just...didn't feel like it right now. Right now, he just wanted to be a bitter old man, angry at the world. It didn't change anything for the better. But it made him feel better.

Besides, he actually tried sometimes. He used to anyways, when he was still a wide-eyed mentor newbie who though his poor saps actually had a shot in hell at not ending up as Bloodbath fodder. Years of that does something to a guy.

At least he would put the effort in to talk to regular sponsors. At least he didn't give up the second he left the arena. Like another person he could name.

District 12

The coal miner's district had been through a lot.

Even though Coriolanus Snow had been dead for over 20 years, his legacy still loomed in the background. And it cracked down the hardest on District 12. There was no flame left to extinguish, but in the shadow of his granddaughter, nothing had changed. The Capitol could pretend otherwise, but they actually wanted to help.

Okay, maybe the merchant and Seam divide had gotten a little better. And there were jobs to keep the feeble economy afloat. And the mines hadn't run out of coal yet. But the Peacekeepers still whipped out their batons to beat anyone looking the wrong way. Executions were as common as they had ever been. The cracking electric fence had yet to turn off.

And two kids would always die in the Games no matter what.

It had been that way for nearly a quarter of a century.

Lark Riviere, the lone Victor of District 12, was a lot of things. He was the youngest Victor when he dominated the 76th Hunger Games from out of nowhere, and that record had yet to be broken. He had the honour of being 12's fifth ever Victor, which wasn't really something to be proud of.

Nobody ever saw little Lark Riviere coming, did they? Nobody ever expected a little squirt to top the odds, and send the Career alliance tumbling straight to hell. He wasn't even supposed to win anyways, being a rebel and shit, but fuck that!

But he wasn't that fiesty little kid anymore. Hell, he was nearly forty. And he had yet to do anything with himself. His inability to actually give a shit about mentoring actually doomed his own nephew. Heron hadn't spoken to Lark since and that incident was almost two years ago. The kid was dead, Brick Caviar won, end of story. He said it like it was a simple fact or statistic, like he wasn't losing his own blood to the Capitol again and again and again.

That could've been the spark. The push. The realization that Lark was destroying himself and maybe, when the Quarter Quell rolled around, he could change. He could do something. He didn't. Poor saps Reaped this year, because nothing changed.

12 was always going to be a poor and dirty little coal-carrying roach under the Capitol's thumb.

Nothing was going to change and no rebel or child on fire would ever be enough.

Life in Panem sucked.

Sometimes, Lark wished he actually died in the arena. He was tired of the whispers. The pitiful looks the other Victors passed his way. The cries from parents in the district as they confronted him in the Justice Building and begged him to do something, before a Peacekeeper dragged him away. The echoes in his house, much too large for one person, but he did everything in his power to drive his mother and brother away once he won.

The sunflowers that bloomed in the backyard for a sister who was lost to the 76th Games so he could live. They came with the house. Coriolanus Snow also visited when Lark first moved in, a white rose in his pocket. Lark used to cut all the sunflowers down, but they'd always bloom back up so he just let them take over his yard.

He didn't even use the backyard anymore. Now it was just a hellish landscape of brown and yellow flowers that would make any gardener sob. Sunflowers that didn't bring a dead person back to life. He probably should've sprayed something all over the place and kill them off for good. Change the absolute horrid sight that was his backyard. But he wasn't because Lark never changed.

Why change?

Why bother, begging for change?

What could be changed?

Meeting the other half of our mentors! Some districts are lucky to have multiple living Victors available for mentoring duty. Some just have two. Some only have one.

As per usual, subs are still open! You can get the links on my profile, as well as see if there's any specific kinds of tributes I need. I would like to get some escorts in, because escorts will have one Reaping POV, so I can update the Reaping stockpile I have.

See you all next chapter,

-Vr