Training Day I:
No pain, No game,
Shut up and train.
Aspen Northill, District Twelve
''Those are just a few of the basic rules,'' Eliora Defonté announces, giving us a basic rundown on what is and isn't supposed to happen while we're in the training center. ''So, just to recap—''
''Yeah, I think the battle station is probably the best place to visit first.'' Somewhere on the other side of the circle, two tributes are speaking to each other about strategies, interrupting Eliora's sentence.
''I agree. After that, how about the survival station, or the knot-tying one?''
''I'll wait. Are you done?'' Eliora crosses her hands together and turns to the talking teens.
''Survival station. It'll definitely help us out in the long run, but—'' Now cutting them off, she catches the Eight boy in the middle of his speech.
''I'll wait!''
''Well, wait then! Our conversation's not over, we're not done talking! So stop interrupting us!'' The Eight boy takes a huge lunge forward, his fists balled up to the point where his veins look like they're about to pop. ''You keep saying you're gonna wait, but you're not waiting!''
''Preach!'' the Eight girl exclaims.
''Nah, 'cuz that's pissing me off! So shut your impatient-ass up while we speak!'' Darren – I think – yells.
''You know what? I'm done. If you guys have any questions, just come look for me. I'll be examining all of you, and if you'd like a word of advice, I'd say to not just focus on weapons. Everyone wants to become a sword master, but learning how to purify water and identify edible insects and plants can save your life, too. Now, go on.''
When everyone else walks away from the circle, smiling, laughing and giggling at the outburst that just occurred, I slowly approach Eliora. She's pressing her fingers against her temples, muttering, ''I've never been so disrespected in my life... What type of people were these children raised by?''
''Ahem,'' I cough, looking down at the ground. For some reason, I feel as though I can sense her presence peering at me. Looking up, I meet her eyes. The glimmering color of emerald in them, sparkling in the light like a fresh sheen of morning dew grass, is so beautiful. Whenever she turns her head this way or that way, I've noticed, they catch the light and play tricks with anything and everything that screams 'spring.'
''Hello. Is there something that I can help you with? Are you confused, or curious?''
''Neither,'' I respond. ''Actually, I just came here to apologize for the rudeness of those two tributes. I don't know why they acted so foul around you, but you deserve better than that.''
''Do you know those two?''
''No, not really,'' I answer honestly. ''Unless you mean knowing their names by view of the recaps, then yeah, no.''
''So why are you apologizing for their words?''
''Because it was wrong. You should be treated with respect.'' Shrugging, I look around the training center confidently, rubbing my hand on the back of my dark brown hair. ''So, you gotta boyfriend?''
''What?'' she asks, laughing at my unexpected question. ''Why, are you interested?''
''Well, yeah.'' Biting my cheek, I slightly turn my head to the right and say, ''You could definitely grace any billboard or magazine in this city, and it's kind of surprising that you don't already. This is just between you and me, but out of all the Capitolite ladies that I've seen so far, you're the most attractive – you might even be the only attractive one – to me, at least. Whatcha think 'bout me?''
''Oh? Thank you for your compliment, but I'm married. See the ring?'' She raises her right hand up to my face and flashes her Benitoite-studded ring in my face. ''Although, I can appreciate that your hair is a perfection in coffee hues; it's the color of a dark-roasted bean, but your skin's all latte. It's cute. But let's say I wasn't taken. How would you treat me?''
''I'd treat you like a princess. On our first date, I'd take you on a long walk around cracking sidewalks and watery sunshine that struggles past the clouds. We'd make several loops around the nearest Capitol restaurant in this area's block, but we'd be so deep into it that we wouldn't even realize that we haven't reached our destination yet. On our first few circuits, the talks would be kind of shy, the two of us getting acquainted to one another, but after a few more, we'd know more about each other than we did about our own family members. Our fingers would be entwined in a loose grip, and I'd pull you into a kiss that would stop all your anxious thoughts dead in their tracks.''
''...You do realize that I'm too old for you, right?'' she cackles, her sneeze-like laugh only making her more attractive. ''But you're sweet, kid. I gotta give you props.''
''C'mon, now. We'd be the type of couple that would make anyone jeal—''
''Excuse me, ma'am.'' Turning to the right, I notice the older boy from District Three with a question hovering on the tip of his tongue.
''Hey, sorry, man, but whatever you need is gonna have to wait. I'm busy talking to her right now, so can you back up for like, thirty sec—''
''I just need to ask her something real quick, kid. All you're doing is trying to flirt – which is wasting time for everyone else who actually has something important to say – and you're ending up unsuccessful.''
''He's right, kid,'' Eliora admits, giving me a sympathetic look. ''You gotta think logically when situations like this arise.''
...She just basically told me to use my common sense, as if I don't have any.
They both just spoke down on me like I'm an idiot...
Inside of me, the frustration builds, and I feel like I'm about to explode. Taking a deep breath, I hold myself still so that I don't shout, vent, or let anything out. Something – I wanna say something. Anything.
But, instead, I simply walk away, holding in the hurtful words that reside under my tongue.
Natalie Needle, District Seven
Reaching the weapons rack, I walk around the deadlier portion of the training center until my eyesight lands on two black knives that stand out from the rest. Speed walking over there, I gracefully move past the spears, clubs, whips and other vicious-looking weapons, reaching out to equip the two blades.
Something soft touches my hand, and I try to pull away, but the grip is firm. I make eye-contact with the boy from Nine – Millet. Quickly, I yank it away and take the knives with me. ''Can you hand me that khopesh, please?''
''Khopesh?''
''The weird-looking sickle to your left,'' he says, pointing at it. Grabbing it, I measure the weapon in my hands, feeling its heaviness and sliding my fingers across its weird curve. After a few seconds, I hand it to him, and he replies with a ''Thanks.''
Turning my head from side-to-side, I look for a good booth to go harness my skills – and there's a world full of dummies behind one of the larger training stations a little bit north of where I'm currently standing at. Making my way over there, I catch the attention of the trainer that sits in his chair, lightly tapping his fingers against the wooden surface of his desk.
''Hey! You interested in some tips and tricks?'' Taking no time at all to think about how I'm gonna respond to him, I instantly begin to nod my head. ''Great. I'm Tessian, and as you can tell, this is the dummy station. In here you'll be able to practice new moves, slice, and even dodge attacks from the robotic samples that we have displayed. Also, if there's anything I can do for you, just... Hey!''
Why is he saying 'Hey' again? ''Um? You said that already...''
''He was saying it to me, not you,'' a familiar tone of voice resonates from one ear to the other. Glancing slightly to the left, I bite my bottom lip when he stands right next to me. It was already weird to make contact with him at first, and now he's following me. Why? ''Hi, I'm Millet.''
''Nice to meet you, Millet,'' Tessian says, rubbing his hands together. ''Good to see more than one face. Anyway, to put it in simple terms, you can practice on dummies or against dummies here. And if you want to train together, so be it.''
He unlocks the doors of the front entrance and then allows us to enter. Quickly, I make my way over to the center, holding both knives at the hilt and diligently perusing the surrounding area. Mainly to the right are the automatic dummies that hold weapons and roam the sector back and forth, while to the left and center, they're mainly immobile.
A grunt sounds from the right, where Millet is currently slicing his khopesh across a dummy's chest. The deep laceration opens up the opportunity for red foam to exit the solid skin, free-falling onto the floor and covering it in fake stains.
Holding out the knife in front of my hands, I take a jab step with my right foot and spin around the dummy, slicing it in the shoulder and down to the lumbar region of its back.
''Good, girl!'' Tessian shouts out, clapping his hands together. ''Don't forget that the mobility of your hands are just as vital as the mobility of your feet. You were a little slow on the attack, but you have the hang of it!''
Rotating around another dummy, I bury my knife deeply into the side of its stomach, this time being much quicker with my attack. Out of nowhere, though, its arm swings rapidly, catching me off-guard and hitting me square in the chest, knocking a decent amount of air from my system.
''Surprised, huh?'' Tessian asks. ''Yeah, I bet. You gotta remember that your fighting stance remains important, even after you attack – because you never know how your opponent will react. It might sound paradoxical, but successful knife combat requires you to be both offensively aggressive and singularly defensive at the same time. Anything less, and you're playing with fire. Now, again!''
This time, I make sure that I'm aware of what's going to happen. From the corner of my eye, I'm able to make out a remote control in Tessian's hand, allowing me to interpret when he's going to command the dummy to attack. But, to make it more realistic, I look away and try to guess – as if it's a tribute.
For the first time, the dummy strikes initially – and not with just its hands, but its entire body. Its head comes aiming for me, and I quickly slide out of the way, avoiding the blow. Getting a clear understanding of what Tessian meant, I stand in a practical stance and lunge over the dummy, ending up on the opposite side of where I was originally, and carve a sickly-sweet smile in its neck.
Jumping back, I manage to avoid another wild attack, leaving me with a grin. ''Well done,'' Tessian congratulates. ''You pick up nicely, which will definitely strengthen your combat skills. I'm impressed.''
''Thank you,'' I pant, trying to cool down my body while placing both hands on the back of my head and exhaling roughly. My skin takes on a glossy shine, and the salty drops of sweat invade my eyes. I feel like I've just had the hardest work out of my life, but it's not until my feet stop moving completely that the air conditioning in this large structure shows me just how wet my clothing has become.
Lifting one eyelid open and keeping the burning one closed, I watch Millet and Tessian speak to each other. Tessian's gesturing all types of different stances and ways of striking, which really puts an impression on me. When he's done speaking with Millet, he gently taps him on the shoulder and rubs his head.
I'm expecting him to quietly walk past me, but instead, he utters, ''You looked really good out there, swinging and stuff. What's your name?''
''Thanks. Not too shabby yourself. And Natalie. Natalie Needle.''
''A pleasure to meet you, Natalie. He looks like he gave you a lot of good advice. I noticed that you got into the action once you hit your third attempt, and after that, you completely took off with it.''
''Same here. What'd he tell ya?''
''He told me that he's aware of me liking to swing one-handed, and that I should practice with my off-hand, too. Since I went for the shoulders a lot, he instructed me to go at it in an above forty-five degree angle. It'll make the blow less likely to bounce back and hit me, especially when embedded in the opponent's skin.''
''That makes sense,'' I state. ''You can tell that he's quite erudite on the subject of combat in general.''
''True.'' A bit of time passes before Millet opens up his mouth again and speaks. ''Say, do you wanna be allies?'' So that was his game. Noted. ''I'm not presuming that you'll say yes, but—''
''Sure. I'd love to be allies,'' I decide. ''Since you've been so kind and friendly, I should repay you back within the form of an alliance. Really, we'd be good together. Just... watch what you say around me, and be cautious of the actions you perform.''
''Great. But... what does that all mean, exactly?''
Just know that what goes around tends to come around. People change throughout the Games, so don't be surprised if a snake chomps you in the ass.
''Don't worry about it.''
Cherokee Franklin, District Nine
The training center's such a spacious area filled with hundreds of different things to do... but, I don't know what I wanna learn first. Weapons don't seem all that appealing – just holding a blade that could take away anyone's life within seconds doesn't sound comforting to me...
Then, a few paces in front of me, I see a little boy – about the age of twelve – on his knees, working at a fire station. How about over there? Smiling to myself, I saunter over to the area quietly, until I'm within five feet of making contact with him.
When he notices my shadow, he stares up at me and then scoffs quite rudely, if I'm being honest. Nice to meet you, too. Not letting his disappointed look phase me, I say, ''Hey! I'm Cherokee, what's your name?''
He ignores me, simply focusing on the two sticks in his hand while pondering over how vigorously he's supposed to rub them together. A low snicker erupts from beside the boy, coming out of the trainer's mouth, and I look over at him, feeling slightly embarrassed.
''Don't look at me.'' Shrugging, he turns his head back to the boy. ''If it's too difficult to get the friction in motion and you're lucky enough to obtain a flint in the arena,'' the trainer starts, ''then use that instead. It's quicker, but don't burn yourself. Try again, Sebastian.''
''Sebastian, huh? That's a really nice na—''
''What do you want?'' he interrogates, blinking his eyes with a bit of frustration on his face. ''Can't you see that I'm doing something?''
''I was actually wondering if I could work with you... if you don't mind, that is.''
Not responding once more, he manages to start an ignition of small flames that casually burn, adding some nice warmth to the cool air. The trainer gives Sebastian a nod, takes away the flint and informs, ''Sometimes you get unlucky and don't have a flint or matches. If that's the case, you can always improvise by using quartzite and the steel blade of your pocket knife. You'll also need char, but judging from the rumors that have been going around, I'm sure that the arena will provide you with plenty of that. Anyway, what you wanna do is take a hold of the piece of rock in between your thumb and forefinger, but don't forget to make sure that an edge is hanging about two or three inches. Grasp your knife and use the back of your steel blade to strike against the rock multiple times until sparks fly onto your char. When it begins glowing, fold your cloth into a tinder nest and gently blow on it to start the flame. Like this.''
Done precisely, the trainer creates a normal-sized fire, similar to Sebastian's, except much more impressive. ''That's an aberration from the normal, don't you think?''
''How so?'' the trainer inquires, addressing me while maintaining an eye on Sebastian at the same time.
''Well, in Districts like mine and Sebastian's – I'm assuming – we don't really learn how to start fires. That doesn't mean that I'm not determined to learn, though.''
''Hmm, I understand.'' the trainer mutters.
Staring back down at Sebastian, I watch as he struggles to strike the piece of rock in his hand hard enough. A few sparks come out, but there's an insufficient amount that lands on the char cloth.
Squatting down, I level my body with Sebastian's head. ''Let me help you out with that.''
Scooting away from me while dangerously holding the knife, he says, ''No, I'm fine. You can wait your turn and then do as you want.''
''Really, I insist.'' Even though I continue to offer him a hand, he unceasingly moves away from me. ''Come on, I just wanna help.'' But, unfortunately, it seems that I've done more bad than good. Accidentally swiping my hand upwards in an attempt to grab the knife, I bump my knuckles into his arm and guide the weapon across the palm of his left hand.
Sebastian jumps up wildly, screaming at the top of his lungs. His left hand becomes slick with blood, the red fluid loosening his grip on the rock. ''What is wrong with you?!'' All of a sudden, the entire training center goes quiet, and as I frantically look around, every single pair of eyes are gazing at me. ''I told you that I didn't need your help, so why do you keep bothering me?! Look at what you did! What's your problem?!''
''I-I-I just... I just w-wanted to a-ask if you w-wanted to be p-p-partners... Here, let me help you ou—''
''Be partners? Are you delusional? If you really thought for two seconds that you could gain allies, you're sorely mistaken. And help me? Haven't you helped enough already? Just get out of my face..!'' There's a tugging at the corner of his lips, as if he's almost about to laugh. The trainer grabs him by the shoulder and takes him away from the station, approaching a cabinet that I believe is full of bandages and all types of other medical materials. But as Sebastian's leaving, I hear him say, ''Partners..? Allies? Help..? What's wrong with her?''
The restrain of impatience in me is lost instantly at this moment, leaving me with neither the emotion of happiness or anxiousness – almost as if the trace of all my feelings have been entirely drained out of my body.
Grumbling to myself a little, I attempt to hold it back, but I just can't. Let them flood. My eyes are burning and my chest feels heavy, as if it's filled with lead; I can't even see clearly anymore. All I know is that he's mad, and I messed up once again. Just like always. A drop of water falls down onto my hand, and I look up to the ceiling, steadying my breathing until it erupts.
''Forget you, then!'' My shouting rents the air – the once peaceful room becoming polluted with rage. Everyone continues to eye me, yet nobody besides myself tenses up. Some tributes are laughing, others look like they don't even care, and it seems impossible for me to find an empathetic face in the crowd of hundreds. ''I just wanted to find someone to be able to rely on, but you didn't have to be so cruel, you know! Stop being so pessimistic and open up, would you?!''
Turning on my heel, I rush towards the exit of the training center – but, in fact, there's truly no escape, leaving my ire worse, more long-lasting.
Bursting outside, I crash into a wall and my knees buckle, causing my body to collapse onto the floor. A salty fluid drips over my small, cracked lips as my elbows collide with the marble tiles.
Maybe I really was born under Saturn; maybe I really am unlucky. But... I'm not nasty. Right?
Malik Sherman, District Eleven
There are weights to lift, and currently no-one's using those stations, but I'm not really interested in bench pressing or squatting. Kinda boring when there's nobody else around, but it wouldn't be bad to make an impression on anyone who's watching.
Who knows, maybe the Careers are paying close attention to every individual as I speak.
After scanning the different types of dumbbell sets that are laid out around the room, I eventually decide that I'll save this section for later. Turning away from the sets, I listen intently when I hear, ''Hey, big guy! Are you looking for something?''
Elevated on a higher ground-level, I take in the steel beam and wood-staged plank that's covered by foam padding and a canvas mat. The sides of the wrestling ring are covered with a fabric skirt and have three ring ropes protecting the entrance of it. Leaning against the ropes is a male trainer with protective wrestling gear on, a bit muscular and intimidating. ''Ya wanna wrestle?''
Shrugging, I say, ''It wouldn't hurt to try.''
Nodding his head, he doesn't seem skeptical about the challenge that he proposed at all. Granted, I'm nothing special, especially not compared to him, but we're about the same height, standing a six feet tall – although, he's definitely bulkier than I am. Unlocking the swinging wooden doors of the stage's entrance, he gestures for me to enter, before closing it.
When we're both inside the ring, he cracks his neck, shoulders, back, and knuckles, showing that he's prepared for a fight. ''You not gonna stretch?'' he asks.
''Nope. Never really needed to.''
''Confidence is good,'' he states, breathing softly, ''I like that in tributes. Don't let that spirit break. Ever.'' Smiling, I walk around the ring, testing the flexibility of the ropes before doing anything ridiculous. ''A few ground rules before we start. One: there are no rules. In the Hunger Games, you won't be restricted to any set of direct orders, so do what you must in order to gain the upper advantage. Ready?''
''Yeah, ready.''
''Whoa,'' he says unexpectedly, smiling a little. ''What's with the sudden shift to a hardened expression? It's like something flashed beneath the surface of your skin. Do I need to investigate?''
''Nah, I just need to be serious in situations like this. I'm gonna act like this is a real fight in the Games, so I shouldn't be giddy and laughing, you know?''
''All right, guy. Go!''
Immediately, the trainer charges at me, grabbing me by my shoulders and tossing me to the ground. The mat is surprisingly slippery, which makes it difficult for me to catch my footing, but I'm able to avoid his leap and roll out of the way.
He bounces back up quickly, grunting as he takes a handful of my clothing, and tries to wrestle me to the ground and pin me. As I continue to resist, he releases a hand-hold and uses his advantage to jab me in the ribs. Doubling over, I take two hits to the face, but instead of groaning and shouting out in pain, I glare up at him.
''Wow, you ate those,'' he says, sounding unsure. In that frozen second between him and I, I wrap my arms around his waist, my expression unreadable; no fear, no invitational smirk. His agile movement is far too slow to stop me from my assault. My pair of hands seize him in a lock, making him struggle and gurgle in my tight hold.
Jumping up, he does a somersault over my shoulders and lands behind me, but I carry him with the escape and force him to stagger backward into the ring post. Dropping abruptly, I shake my grip off of him and butt my head into his stomach. As the cry of pain escapes his lips, I haul him over my shoulders, turn around, and dive forward as I crash my weight onto his, our bodies slamming into the rough mattress.
Standing up rapidly, I press both of my boots against his wrists, twisting them as I look down at him. ''All right, all right, you win.'' Walking off, I aid him in standing up and chuckle. ''You're pretty good, boy. What's your name?''
''Malik Sherman,'' I answer, grinning from ear-to-ear. Salty droplets flow down my face like soft summer rain, dripping onto the mat as I stand to regain my breath. Down my back is a dark stripe amid the dusty color of my sleeved top, a spreading map of perspiration.
''Well, you're definitely a contender, Malik. A strong body used to be a sign of either excessive leisure time or a non-stop athlete, but who else has time to do things like that? Now, in the Games, it's a necessity, and you have it. If you can't run, you're dead. If you can't jump a low level wall without reducing speed, you're dead. If you can't use a weapon and fight with it... well, you get the idea. But you, you have it all. In a little bit, come back to me, kid – I wanna work with your strength some more.''
''Thank you,'' I breathe raggedly, exiting the ring and walking to the front gate. There, behind the door, stands a boy who looks like he's around my age with a large Six on his shoulder. ''What's up?''
Smiling kindly, he opens up his mouth and says, ''Didn't expect anything less from you. You were really good in there.''
Raising an eyebrow, I chuckle and joke, ''Thanks. Not really sure what to make of that, but hopefully it's good in meaning?''
''Yeah, it's well-meant. I was just saying that someone as strong as you would have no trouble with wrestling a trainer. It's almost insane how easy you made that look. By the way, I'm Lachlan.''
''I'm Malik. And I guess so. After spending seventeen years of my life working in District Eleven, it's natural that I've picked up on a few strengths. The experience catches up to you, I guess.''
''That sucks and doesn't suck at the same time. I've heard some awful things about your District, and life sounds pretty rough there.'' Rubbing the back of his hand briefly against his lips, he utters, ''I like that you're down-to-earth, though. Like, you don't take offense to my words and that's relieving – especially after witnessing what just happened a few minutes ago.''
I shrug, bringing my shirt up to the top of my face and wiping the sweat from my eyes. ''Don't you think it'd be cool if you and me allied? It might seem unlikely, but it'd be pretty interesting.''
''Are you inviting me to an alliance?'' I ask, caught off-guard. He nods his head. ''Direct. I like it. But... let me think about it. If you can last in the ring against me and give me a good fight, I'll join you.''
''Deal! Don't hold back at all, okay?'' he orders.
''Bet.''
Pavel Elsbeth, District Thirteen
The cafeteria's a cacophony of loud chatter, each table a cosseted huddle of people raising their voices to be heard above the din. The food's secondary to the information that's being exchanged here, but there are so many people that could be potential allies.
Unoccupied tables are laden with delicacies that line the walls. A lot of these foods I've never even seen before in my life – even things I've never dreamed of lie in wait. Whole roasted cows and pigs and goats still turn on spits, huge platters of fowl stuffed with savory fruits and nuts. Even ocean creatures are dazzled in sauces and begging to be dipped in spicy concoctions. Countless cheeses, breads, vegetables, sweets, and even waterfalls of this thing that all the Peacekeepers are drinking called wine.
''Do you ever wonder if the Capitol trains their Peacekeepers to be the perfect soldiers?'' I whisper to Krissy, leaning down just a little bit. ''Honestly, I think I'd be perfect for a Peacekeeper job. Seriously, just being told what to do and not having to worry about grades or making a living for myself or any of that junk. The hard work wouldn't be for no reason, you know?''
The expression on her face reads nothing but confusion. ''What are you talking about? I'm sure that not every Peacekeeper is exactly the same soldier. Some might even be rebellious.''
''C'mon, think about it. Every single one that we've seen has been the same patriotic, generic, law-enforcing civilian. Doesn't that make you wond—''
''Shut up, Pavel,'' Krissy orders, grabbing my hand and dragging me to an empty table. ''Let's eat. I think this is all just getting into your head.''
I love it when you tell me what to do, I almost say, but rather I hold my tongue and follow orders. If only my enter life could be surrounded around that type of demeanor. It'd be so much easier.
As Krissy attempts to wrap her hands around a meaty, sizzle-crisped, sloppy burger with chin-dripping juices on the inside, I search the room and spot a girl playing with her food. She looks so young, so adorable, so innocent – she doesn't even deserve to be here.
''I'll be right back, Krissy.'' Pushing myself up, I leave my fries in their cardboard packaging, allowing them to soak in the nasty grease.
''Where are you going?''
Speed walking forward, I smoothly seat myself across from the District Ten girl, staring her in the eyes. ''You look lonely. Are you okay? If you need some company, my ally and I wouldn't mind having you—''
''Get away from me!'' she raises her voice, drawing some attention.
''Look, I'm just trying to offer you an alliance. You shouldn't be in this mess in the first place, so—''
''Leave me alone, boy! Guys are dirty and nasty and gross!'' she spits, shouting loudly now. ''I don't want you to be here, only girls are allowed! Get away from me or else I'm gonna tell!''
Sighing, I do as she says without hesitation. Despite how bad I want to help and protect her, I'll acquiesce to her demands.
When I return to Krissy, she questions, ''Why'd you go bother that little girl? She yelled at you not once, but twice, and everyone was staring. You looked like a predator.''
Sitting back down, I return to my fries and put some tomato sauce on them. ''I asked her if she wanted to join our alliance.''
''What?''
Krissy squares her shoulders and stands up promptly, chiding her disapproval. ''Why would you want a girl like that in our alliance? Did you not see how she and her district partner were acting with one another? They're from the same District and didn't get along, and neither of them are first in the race for sponsors. Expecting any other response is just foolish. Why screw with our chances for someone so useless?''
''Come on, don't be like that.'' Frowning, I incline my head and state, ''She's a small girl with apparently no allies. Is it bad that I took pity on her? She's just so innocent; she even speaks like a child!''
Taking authority, Krissy wipes the grease off of her fingers with a napkin and says, ''Yes! It's like you're throwing all of your sense of judgment out the window. We don't need a little girl in our alliance, we need someone who's ready and willing to go the extra mile to help us survive as long as we—''
Krissy's face contorts into a look of disgust, and a smack as loud as a clap jumps into the air. Turning around, she accuses, ''Did you just slap my ass?!''
Confused, I look off to the right a little bit and see the Ten boy, smiling deviously and denying Krissy's claims. ''What are you talking about? I'd never do such a thing.''
''You clearly would since you're the only person behind me. No-one else is anywhere near. If you're gonna try something so repugnant, make sure that you have a believable excuse.'' Now turning to me, she scoffs, asking, ''Did you see that?''
''Calm down...'' the boy chuckles nervously. ''It was just a harmless prank, don't take it so seriously. Damn, everyone wants to be butt-hurt all of a sudden.''
Walking around the table and grabbing the boy's hand, I push him behind me, defending him. ''Chill. He's just a little boy. Plus, you know how us guys are – sometimes we fall to our impulsive wants, especially when we're as young as he is. The hormones start kicking in around that time, so you can't really blame him. Maybe he didn't even have sexual intentions and just did it because he could. There's a chance that it was all for fun, nothing more.''
Clutching on to my wrist with a skintight grab, she pulls me away from the table. ''Are you serious right now? This is what I was talking about – you know damn well if that was someone our age, you'd think differently.''
''But he's only a kid, he doesn't need to be punished for somethi—''
''Are you guys talking about me?'' The boy stands in between the both of us, pushing his head through the space separating our bodies from touching.
''Yeah, we are. Why don't you go wait over there and mind your own business?'' With a helpful push, she shoves him away.
''We gotta protect the kid!'' I insist. Her and I go back-and-forth, having an innocent banter. Eventually I begin to plead, giving her the puppy dog eyes. ''Please..? Let's just assist him in getting on his feet, and then after that we can put ourselves as the main priority. Is that fair?''
Grunting, she gives in and discouragingly deadpans. ''Fine. But you're taking care of whoever you recruit, not me.''
''That's fine by me!'' Rotating to my left, I smile triumphantly at Mackenzie, earning a disingenuous observation from him.
Perfect. A blameless, malleable ally. Could I ask for more?
A/N: Ayeee! Finally, we're done with this batch of tributes. I'm pretty happy to have gotten through this fairly quickly. Everyone was fun to write for, and once again, I appreciate you guys for submitting. To be honest, I don't even know what to say. This is one of the only free weekends that I've actually had all year, being able to finish everything, so it's kinda weird lmao. Usually I have a lot to say whenever I'm packed, but here it's kinda empty. Might just chill for the rest of the night with moms, but anyway, I hope y'all are doing well. Oh, and the alliances that I have planned, some of you might be pretty surprised when you see who's with who. Some will definitely be obvious, but I don't think anyone expected Pavel, Krissy and Mackenzie, or even Lachlan and Malik. It'll all round up in the end, so if you're skeptical, just trust ya boy.
Honestly, I'm just so impatient to get to the Games already. The pre-game activities are mad fun to write until you get to the interview chapter, and I'm dreading that. Once again, I'll have one chapter with six POVs, and I'm debating whether it should be interviews or the third training day, but I think I'll do third training day since I'm not boutta stress over some interviews. Also, there's a poll on my page, so you guys should totally go over there and vote for your top 5 favorite tributes in this story. Truthfully, I know some authors don't like when people are biased and vote for their own tribute(s), but I don't care. Dude, go at it. I don't even care if you get your friends to vote. Voting won't change shit; it never has for me, and it never will. I'm just curious on who y'all like. Also, please vote for *5* tributes. Not just yours, but your *5* favorite. Idk why, but I'm not a fan of checking my votes and seeing that, oh, this tribute has one vote and everyone else has zero in the first few minutes. Anyway, yuh, questions.
Favorite tribute? In this chapter and overall.
Least favorite tribute? In this chapter and overall.
Predictions?
You attempt to help a tribute and they completely call you out in front of every single person in the training center. How are you feeling? Do you plot to kill them and get revenge, do you shrug it off and not care 'cuz you know your worth and don't gaf whether or not some kid wants to talk you down, or what?
Lastly, I want y'all to predict the arena solely off of some hints that I've placed in the chapter quotes, sentences that stood out, or anything that seemed strange in this story. If I've told you what the arena is, shut the fuck up. This isn't for ya. ;)
Anyway, yeah, that's it for now! And summer's about two and a half weeks away. I've got one more AICE Exam on Thursday, and after that it's all the easy honors classes at the end of the year. Basically, I've only got three more exams after this one, but none of those are gonna make me hold back my fun time because it's simple shit. Except for Chemistry. I gave up on that subject when I got a B the second quarter and now I don't care because I hate dimensional analysis and stoichiometry or however you spell it. Not sure whether or not the alerts are still down, but I've gotten some notifications and haven't gotten some notifications, so I guess it's on and off? If you're reading this, you a real one. Have a wonderful day/night/evening/morning/whatever time it wherever the hell y'all are at! Hope you're all having a happy Mother's Day with your moms, guardians, or whoever is a mother-figure to y'all. Treat 'em right and show them how much they matter to you and how much you love them! See y'all next time! ^-^
