Harley and Theodora aren't in this universe so I switched it up and actually did a normal private sessions chapter. It was kinda fun to get some more in-depth snapshots of the sessions.


Archibald Pell, District Eight male (13)

The Gamemakers were far away up in their metaphorical ivory tower. I barely thought about them as I entered the training room. I hardly thought this whole session was even worthwhile. You couldn't judge someone's potential based on a few days of training. Even more than that, what it took to win the Games was something you couldn't really teach. No one knew how they would react in the Arena until they got there. The whole idea of the private sessions was more about determining betting rates than it was about seeing what we could do.

Just go in there and do what you practiced, I thought as I surveyed the various items in the room. A lot of the Tributes had tried to branch out and learn something new but I preferred to refine what I already knew. I didn't think I could make any significant progress in the time we had. It was better to just review things I already had some grasp of. Also, most of the Tributes at least spent some time on learning weapons. It would have been a waste of time for me. There was nobody here I could fight anyway. The only way I would win was if I never fought anyone.

What I had practiced was firestarting and shelter-making. They say most Tributes die of natural causes in the Arena, not because of fights. I couldn't reduce the risk from the other Tributes but I might possibly be able to keep myself warm in the Arena. Really a lot depended on what the Arena was. If it was something super cold, like that one year everyone froze to death, or super hot, like a desert, there wasn't much I could do. I had to hope that the Gamemakers wanted something more exciting. We hadn't had a super harsh Arena in decades, at least as far as I remembered. But then, it didn't take as much as people thought to freeze to death.

Until I tried learning, I didn't appreciate how hard it was to build a fire. In Eight we didn't exactly have room or materials for bonfires. I always assumed you just piled sticks and threw a match but actually it was way harder than that, even assuming you had a match in the first place. There had to be tinder and kindling- a lot more than I first thought. It had to be close enough together to spread the fire but not so close it choked out the oxygen. More than half the time even if everything was right the flame just fizzled out for seemingly no reason. And of course I was doing this without matches, though I did use a flint tool. I'd tried to make fire by just rubbing the sticks or constructing a fire bow but it just proved impossible. I'd have to hope there were flints of some sort in the Bloodbath.

I didn't say anything as I piled up my sticks and started to arrange them. It must have been pretty boring from the Gamemakers' perspective. I must have been pretty boring from the Gamemakers' perspective. I was the youngest Tribute and was displaying mediocre and unspectacular skills. I couldn't imagine they'd even give me a second thought after I left the room. I'd get the generic average score, or a little lower since I was so young, and that would be that. Throughout my entire session I was struck by how meaningless it all was. I hadn't learned anything special in three days and the Gamemakers weren't really interested. We were both just going through the motions. That's how it felt when I gathered the sticks and that was how it felt when the fire flickered into life. Boring. Routine. Just two groups playing a foregone role in a foregone Games.


Mazie Rye, District Nine female (16)

There wasn't much to do that the Gamemakers hadn't already seen. How do you make a sword exciting when you're barely a novice and also the Gamemakers have seen a thousand people do it before you, many of them trained? I guess it was more about showing you were willing than really about showing off your skills.

Yeehaw, I thought as I swiped a sword at a mannequin. Yep, swords sure kill people. I looked up at the Gamemakers and they seemed as bored as I was.

Honestly... what does it even matter. I looked around the room and noticed the agility course. That looks kind of fun. I think I'll do that instead. Had I trained on the agility course? Nah. Did it look fun? Yeah.

I jumped onto the first platform. It was sort of like the playground at my old elementary school, except way better, since ours was just a swing set and a rusty old jungle gym that probably gave at least one kid tetanus at some point. A couple of assistants skittered out when they saw me heading to the gauntlet and positioned themselves in between stations to swing padded sticks at me.

Oh well, nothing ventured nothing gained. I took a big leap and made it to the second platform, mostly because the assistants were farther down the course. With their arrival the course felt like my childhood games of "the floor is lava". It had been so long since I last played that. It wasn't because I didn't want to, honestly. Everyone else my age just seemed uninterested and I felt bad demolishing children half my age.

I made it past the first assistant without difficulty, mostly because they didn't want to make it too hard on their first pass. But then as soon as I got past the first lady she simply looped around and placed herself beside the next platform, where another assistant was already standing. That meant I faced two assistants on my next jump, and despite my best efforts I was struck. I awkwardly twisted in the air and managed to land with most of my body on the next platform. I clambered up and jumped to the next station before the assistants could reposition themselves. Ha ha, I got you good that time.

Unfortunately on my next jump the assistants got me good. One knocked me off-balance mid-jump and the other swiped above me with her stick so she could swat me downwards. I splatted to the ground, thankful I at least got my arms under myself so I didn't faceplant. Refusing to accept defeat, I simply climbed back onto the platform and tried again, successfully this time.

The gap between the two last stations seemed a lot bigger than the first ones, though I might have just been bad at estimating distances. The assistants peered up at me, waiting for me to make my move. I was getting pretty winded after a dozen pretty big jumps, not to mention climbing back onto the platforms after getting knocked off a few times.

I scooted to the edge of the platform, leaning over and gauging the distance. Beneath me the assistants tensed to swat me down. I crouched down slightly and-

Pivoted to the side and sprinted down to the other end of the platform, throwing myself across over as the assistants were still getting the momentum to run after me. I belly-flopped halfway onto the last platform and wormed my way over as they reached me. I stood proudly on the last platform and raised my arms triumphantly as I turned to face the Gamemakers.

They were gathered around a punch bowl laughing at some unheard joke, their backs to me.

Rude.


Soleil Kingston, District Eleven female (17)

From the moment I reached the Capitol I'd been dreading the private session. If there was anything I hated, it was people staring at me. I already felt like everyone was judging me all the time. The last thing I needed was a group of rich powerful people confirming my fears. I kept my eyes fastidiously away from the Gamemakers' alcove as I entered the very large and imposing training room.

Why does it have to be so big an empty? There were various weapons and stations scattered across the room but a lot of it was just empty space. I felt like a germ under a microscope as I huddled near the door, unsure of where to go. I saw the climbing station on the adjacent wall and made a beeline for it. Climbing was something I knew how to do and didn't have to worry about messing up. It also meant my back would be to the Gamemakers and I could pretend they weren't there.

Just like home, I told myself as I took hold of two knobs at the bottom of the wall. Just pretend you're at home climbing a tree. Nothing unusual. Nothing to stare at. If only it was that easy. While the climbing wall used the same muscles as a tree would, the artificial knobs felt nothing like rough, irregular wood. I also realized quickly that when climbing a tree I automatically pressed myself against the bark and used the friction to help me stay up. The climbing wall was smooth and the tiny handholds didn't have enough depth for me to lock into place. It was too late to back down, though, so I bulled onward, ignoring the burning starting to creep up my thighs and fingers.

I traced a path towards the ropes that dangled over one side of the top of the course. Whereas the handholds required constant effort to stay up, I could lock myself in with a rope and take a break. I reached one of the ropes and wound it around my leg in a position most kids in Eleven learned pretty quick, since we used it to anchor ourselves high up in trees without easily climbable branches. After catching my breath I descended quickly, hoping it would look like I was showing off my expertise and confidence and not just trying to get back down because my legs hurt.

When I reached the bottom I still had a little more than a minute on the clock. Without meaning to, I glanced up at the Gamemakers. Most of them were watching with visible boredom and distraction. A few of them were openly paying attention to other things- a few were eating or drinking and some were chatting with each other. When I saw how little attention they were paying to me I felt less self-conscious. They'd already seen twenty Tributes, I reminded myself, and they saw twenty-four every year. I wasn't anything special to them. I blended in like almost everyone else.

Gotta do something, I guess. I picked up a spear and threw it at a dummy that wasn't that far away, honestly. I hit it in the hip. It wasn't a flashy blow, maybe, but if I got speared in the hip I'd probably be pretty incapacitated. Just for good measure I ran up, yanked the spear out and started stabbing the dummy at close range. Maybe the Gamemakers would be impressed by aggression? Something is always better than nothing, or at least that was what I figured.

I didn't know anything more walking out than I had walking in. I had no idea what the Gamemakers thought of me and no clue what score they'd be giving me. So much depended on the other Tributes and how they performed. From what I saw in training I thought I did better than some of them, but I really wasn't sure at all. Would there be things to climb in the Arena? Would there be spears in the Cornucopia? Was I faster or slower than the other Tributes? That would determine if I could even hypothetically make it to a spear before I got killed. I didn't know anything about any of that. I didn't even know how the Gamemakers could predict it. It didn't even seem like they were watching. Did they really analyze us all, or did they just arbitrarily assign ratings? So much the Capitol did seemed arbitrary. Sometimes I wondered if they really thought of us as people.