Welcome to training day two! It took a while to figure out a name for this chapter since Tooru's section was a little different from Cetronia's and Ham's, but I think this one works XD I hope you all enjoy, and as usual the QQ will be at the bottom of the chapter!
25 - Game Plan
Tooru Ikeda, 14, District 5
"I guess we got in earlier than the others," Tooru says. He looks around the training room, confirming his statement with a second check. "Should we just take whichever we want?"
"Might as well."
Quatra steps into the room and checks the stations. She leans in the direction of the chemistry station, but hesitates once she remembers Tooru is with her.
"Did you want to partner up on a few stations and exchange tips?" she asks slowly. Tooru looks down at his feet, secretly relieved that Quatra isn't going to leave him on his own yet. Ever since the Tribute Parade she's been by his side and reassuring him every step of the way. They'd even managed to sneak a mattress into his room to bunk together on the first night—which makes for hilarious stories over breakfast regarding who talked in their sleep.
He's glad she's still sticking by him. Though he wonders if she'll stay with him after the scores come out. They aren't "officially" allying—kind of like a few of the girls he talked to yesterday—and he can't deny that she'd fit in best with the careers. But now it's just a matter of time before she finds the group she wants to be with, and Tooru isn't sure he'll be able to handle that rejection when the time comes.
"Can we try the swords?" he says.
Quatra obliges him, to his relief, and the better part of an early morning is spent looking over swords to determine which would be a better fit for Tooru and Quatra. The trainer tries to hurry them through it all—"You won't get the luxury of choice in the arena, kids."—before they finally settle on a couple.
The one Quatra chooses it much shorter than the one Tooru does, being closer to a dagger than a sword overall. She practices her stances, chewing her lip as she concentrates; Tooru tries to do the same, slowly getting a feel for the weapon in his hands.
Swords are a lot heavier than he imagined. Tooru grunts as he gives the sword an experimental swing, listening to the air whistle around the blade. Never in his life had he imagined that he would be holding one of these, or that he'd be using them on someone; it feels almost surreal. It definitely feels horrifying.
After Quatra finishes talking to the trainer, most likely negotiating lessons with the new dummies, she turns to Tooru and does her best to smile reassuringly. Tooru smiles back—weakly, but its still a smile.
"Ready to give it a try?" she asks.
He nods. It's better to get it over with sooner rather than later.
The new dummies aren't like the regular ones. Those ones were a dull grey and had no features, made entirely of thick plastic. These ones… Well, Tooru certainly thinks of the Capitol boy named Cyber when he sees these new dummies. Almost human, but not quite there. Still disturbingly close.
"Gonna be okay?"
He looks over at Quatra, seeing her hesitate with her own dummy as she watches him with concern. Tooru inhales deeply, doing his best to steel himself. It's just a dummy, he tells himself over and over. Just a dummy.
"Just needed a second," he tells her. Quatra nods, understanding, and turns her attention back to her dummy. He really, really hopes Quatra sticks by him even if he doesn't do well here today.
Tooru looks back at his own. He thinks back to the nights spent pulling useful advice from Adam, mixed among his ramblings about his own Games. To the tip best suited for holding a sword; to the caution about vital areas on a person. Tooru swallows the lump in his throat and holds his breath.
He lifts the sword above his head, watching the dummy's neck, and swings down hard.
Blood sprays out onto him. Some of it lands on his uniform, but the majority of it lands on his face. Tooru can't even stop himself from shrieking at the reaction—the robot boy, the robot boy, he killed the robot boy—and drops the sword like it's on fire. The dummy drops after it—limp, dead, he killed the robot boy—and Tooru is left standing in horror over his victim.
He can't tell if he's crying or not, but his throat is raw as he keeps screaming and trying to call for help. Hands are all over him—get them off, get them off—as muffled voices fill his ears, drowning out his screams.
Before Tooru blacks out entirely, he hears himself shriek above everyone else, "I can't do this."
He can't say for sure how long he'd blacked out for, but when he comes to his senses again he's sitting in a chair in a white room. It's smaller than the training centre's floor, basically no one in the room besides himself.
Tooru's chest feels like it's collapsing in on itself as he tries to get up from the chair. His limbs feel impossibly heavy, his throat dry and head pounding. He's felt like this before, during the times where the tears wouldn't stop and he forgot to drink water afterwards. He gives up after a few attempts, too tired to bother doing anything other than sulk in his chair.
Two days and he's already cracked. Now Quatra will never ally with him, and he'll be a prime target in the bloodbath. Katsu's most handsomest son is going to die Katsu's most pitiful son, not question about it. At least he knows he won't become a ruthless killer now. He wouldn't have that weighing against his conscience when he dies.
The door slams open, crashing into the wall with a loud thud. Tooru startles, though doesn't jump as much as he normally would. He must really be exhausted if his limbs don't even react normally to a shock. He turns in his chair to see who's burst in—a doctor? An official? A trainer?—and finds himself surprised to meet the distraught gaze of Anari.
Anari basically sprints into the tiny room and crashes into Tooru, wrapping him in her arms and stroking his hair with a shaking hand. Someone else follows behind her, name tag on his shirt declaring Cody, as he checks the clipboard in his hands.
"Sweetie, oh my God," Anari fusses. "I'm so sorry—they didn't tell us the new dummies were more realistic—are you okay?"
His throat is dry and scratchy when he says, "I don't know."
Anari hugs him tighter. "I'm here," she cooes. "I'm here, Tooru."
Cody—well, he has to be Dr. Cody, right?—clears his throat then. Two pairs of eyes flicker to him, waiting for him to continue.
"You should be fine physically to continue training today," he tells Tooru. "The shock of the dummy bleeding led to a panic attack, so I'd advise sticking to the non-combat stations for the rest of today and tomorrow."
"But I need to—"
"Mr. Ikeda," Dr. Cody says. His tone is softer, more concerned. "The only way I can let you continue using those things without having another panic attack is to give you morphling—and that's highly addictive. Not to mention it'll impede your physical abilities exponentially." He sets down the clipboard and moves closer to the duo. Like Anari, Dr. Cody comes in close to Tooru and does his best to keep the boy calm. The thought is most definitely appreciated, since Tooru's used to being yelled at for being unmanly in times like this. "I spoke with Miss X while you were out and she's more than happy to teach you some things she learned outside of combat. Survival skills and the like. It's a very generous offer that I think you should take her up on."
Anari nods in agreement. "Quatra insisted she help you after what happened. She said she could teach you how to put together a small explosive, even."
The statements catch him off guard. Quatra X, the spy who has so many better people to pick from than Tooru, wants to help Tooru despite of his breakdown. He doesn't know what to say, let alone feel—he just knows that the pain in his chest isn't despair, that the tears that spring to his eyes aren't sadness. Even when he'd proven to be useless with a little blood—fake blood, no less!—on him, Quatra still wants to stick by his side.
Maybe he really does have a strong friend and ally in her. Maybe she really meant it when she'd said she'd be there for him, no matter what.
With a trembling lip, Tooru wipes at his eyes as best he can and nods. "Okay," he croaks. "Thank you, Dr. Cody."
Phyllis Hamilton, 18, District 7
Thirty-three…
She heaves herself up to the bar and holds her weight for a second.
Thirty-four…
Right ahead of her is the budding career alliance, already going from three members to four. The pink-haired girl who'd thrown up all over the place at her reaping looks to be speaking to them, nodding along with each reply and ignoring everyone else around her.
Thirty-five…
So far Ham seems to be the only one doing pull-ups. Everyone else found their ideal station yesterday, it seems, and the only ones not doing anything are Gossamer and Nikostratos—again. They just stand to the side and chatter with smiles on their faces, pointing out the occasional tribute.
They'd pointed out Ham five minutes ago. The sinking feeling in her stomach hasn't improved since they moved on to the careers. With the added sabotages given out to the oh-so-special C-District kids, the duo won't be good news for her. Especially if they see her as a threat.
One of the perks of her position is who she can see directly across the room. The chemicals and medicines are across from her, three people occupying it so far while others watch. The hero from Six, Finnegan or whatever, silently cheers on the girl from Eight—Cham? She thinks it's Cham. Whatever her name is, she's good with the chemicals. The small mixture she's made is successfully ignited when she drops something into it, only to be quickly extinguished by a trainer who begins a loud lecture about fire safety.
The other two at the station are the pipsqueak from Twelve and the new Synthia. Ham stares them down, glowers at the fourteen-year-old, as they chatter innocently to each other without a care in the world.
Thirty-six…
She'll probably end up using the pipsqueak and play weak until the last minute. No one would know her true self but Ham, who at least has some common sense in remembering that Synthia Quanta is mentoring the brat. Even if she didn't want revenge—which she honest to God, unequivocally does—the least she can do for the rest of the tributes is take her down in the bloodbath.
"You're gonna give yourself an aneurysm if you keep that expression up."
She startles, losing her grip on the bar and dropping onto the mat beneath her with a heavy thud. Ham groans as she stares up at the person who'd deigned to join her; they could've announced their presence a little less shockingly.
When she recognises Octavia, the girl from Ten, Ham immediately looks back down to the floor. No need to take in features and commit a face to memory—she spoke enough with Octavia yesterday to remember that much. Octavia just waits patiently as Ham clambers to her feet again.
As Ham pats her behind and lets out yet another groan, she says, "You bored or something?"
"Strategising," Octavia corrects her. She looks away from Ham then, surveying the other tributes with an almost critical look to her. Octavia did it yesterday as well; Ham remembers seeing her linger in some places rather than actually try stations out. Maggie calls it a way to play it safe—while simultaneously being the least safe option to make it out of the bloodbath. "Call me crazy, but I think some of the Capitol kids are up to something."
"Sabotages." Ham stands beside Octavia and follows her line of sight. The group Octavia watches is the already close-knit career girls. Valentina and Morganite, she thinks their names are. They're getting along like bread and butter, chatting away at the archery station while a smaller, green-haired boy practices his aim. "They get one chance to fuck it up for all of us and no one punishes them."
"How wonderful." The girls turn from the group, moving their attention to another gathering of Capitolites. Adrianne from Four seems to have a little posse built up, all smiles and reassurances. Like a found family that won't see more than two days whole. "If Gossamer has a sabotage he can get away with, then I'm definitely avoiding all the careers."
"You wanna share with the rest of the class your reasoning for that?"
Octavia smiles to herself, amused. "I thought you weren't interested in what other people were doing."
"That was before the careers came into it." Ham scowls to herself and shakes her head. She points over to the spears station, where Cetronia from District Two practices her throws. Every target is struck at a vital point, no chance of survival if they'd been real. "That one was scouting me yesterday. She was watching you a little today, too."
That gets Octavia's interest. The brunette looks over her shoulder at Cetronia, an almost annoyed expression on her face. Ham will admit that she's curious about the look, but doesn't get much of a chance to ask about it. Octavia mutters to Ham, "You have a shadow too?"
Shadow? Is that what she's calling it? Ham huffs a laugh. She nods anyway, deciding to give the training centre a quick survey and see if she can guess who's been tailing Octavia. No one is looking their way outside of glances that sweep the whole floor. Ham looks down at the floor as she purses her lips.
"What would you say your talent is? Hunger Games-wise, I mean."
Octavia glares down at her. "Why do you want to know?"
"To flush out others we should avoid. Anyone not interested in us being in an alliance will most likely size us up." Ham shrugs. "Gives us a better chance to avoid danger."
The taller girl hums for a moment. She looks left and right, almost searching for stations to name. After a few seconds of silence, Octavia turns on her heel and heads off towards the station devoid of other people. Ham peeks over her shoulder, curious, and finds the knife racks lining the wall beside it.
Ham's brows rise as she follows. Her day spent watching Daphne for signs of a darker personality comes to an end, a new interest taking her attention. She watches as Octavia picks up one of the knives and weighs it in her hand. She half expects her to take it over to the throwing section; Octavia, however, moves for the dummies nearby.
"Keep an eye open, then," Octavia grunts, and then all of a sudden she's plunging the knife deep into the first dummy's abdomen.
Ham feels her stomach lurch as she—unwillingly—replaces the dummy with herself in the action. Octavia drags the knife with a loud, violent grunt, and then the dummy drops to the ground as fake blood and innards spill out onto the floor. Gutted in one stroke, quicker than even Ham had expected of the girl from the livestock District.
She whips her head around to focus on the other tributes, and sure enough there are some reactions to go off of. The career pack—well, the actual career among them—is watching with wide, impressed eyes, while a few of the younger tributes are gawking and paling at the sight. Ham catches sight of Daphne, and she can see the flurry of shoulder jerks that accompany the soft squeaks she hides behind her hands.
And then there's the ones to really worry about. Cetronia, of course, continues to watch. There's no doubt she'll approach the duo for a second career pack, seeing as all other options are either hoarding the C-District tributes or recruiting bloodbaths. A little farther away from Cetronia is the Five team, Tooru and Quatra. After Tooru insulted Ham yesterday—why in the world did he think that being from Seven meant Ham didn't know how to read or do math?—she has no doubt he'll go the defensive route with her once the sirens go off. Quatra stands close to him, whispering hurriedly into his ear as she watches Octavia with an unreadable expression. There's no doubt there'll be a plan to take them out formulated by the duo.
Finally, Gossamer and Croix. The twosome that has everyone on edge more than the careers. They snicker and nod with each others' remarks, pointing at Ham and Octavia almost smugly. Those two, coupled with their advantage, are going to be trouble for the girls.
"Who's top of the list?" Octavia asks as she hands the knife to a trainer. She moves by Ham's side, nodding for her to take a turn.
"Cetronia will definitely approach us," she reports as she moves for one of the dummies. Octavia will probably want a turn to look, which she's more than fine with—more than one set of eyes is handy. "Five and the pompous pricks are discussing us in a different manner, though."
"Anyone else?"
"Just Knight from One. His collection of C-Districts don't look too happy by his interest."
And with that Octavia takes over the watch. Ham squares up in front of the dummy, inhaling deeply and exhaling slowly. The dummies are made to feel and take damage like a real person—the synthetic, crash test dummy skin bruises as realistically as possible, and the organs and overall body match the average human body's production.
So when Ham punches it in the jaw with a hard, powerful right hook, the fact that its entire neck bends and snaps under the pressure while its cheek concaves and jaw unhinges makes her blow all the more horrifying. Some of the tributes paying attention actually let out noises of surprise that are followed by a chorus of, "Oh my God."
"One more," Octavia mutters. Ham obeys and drops into a crouch, swinging both fists down at the knees of the dummy. Another snap, the knee turning inside out.
At least now they have an idea of who to avoid, though Ham could also argue they have taken over that role now.
Cetronia Livius, 17, District 2
Today's proved to be interesting, to say the least.
Cetronia nibbles at her meal as she watches the rest of the cafeteria. Training today has definitely been a step up from yesterday, people's true skills starting to show in attempts to intimidate. A small explosive from the boy from Twelve, the swift gutting performed by the girl from Ten. There's definitely a lot to pick from for usefulness in an alliance, but no one she needs is showing competence.
Ever since Wystan joined with Knight, seeming almost smug last night when he announced it at dinner, Capitolites have flocked to the boy. First the pink-haired girl representing Six, then the girl representing Twelve starts talking with them. Knight's slowly amassing a crowd of Capitolites, trying to play the hero to the Capitol.
She'll give credit where credit is due: It's a solid plan to get the people on his side. He's definitely following Atticus Clarke's methodology of sponsorships.
Cetronia stirs the yogurt in her bowl once as she scans the other Capitolites left. She's seen a few that could be useful—Church, for one—but the people around them have already earned their favour. Church is too attached to his partner, literally holding her hand through every station and making her smile whenever he can. Luxor seems to want to patch things up as soon as possible with his partner, and it's pretty obvious that Cyber is going to join the resident mother hen and her slowly growing group. And Quatra, while having all those skills befitting of a spy, inexplicably stays by Tooru's side and watches the girl from Ten from afar.
There's bound to be more to the Quatra/Octavia story, but Cetronia isn't going to dwell on it. She has a victory to ensure.
The only ones left that could prove useful are Gossamer and Nikostratos, and they're wildcards at this point. A son of a Peacekeeper is bound to have training under their belt—Wystan does, after all—and the way Nikostratos holds a conversation with the haughty boy implies an equal level of wit. Cetronia spoons yogurt into her mouth as she considers an angle to approach them. Maybe getting someone on her side prior to them will convince them? They've been focusing on a few loners today, discussing them with knowing smiles.
Her first thought goes to Gossamer's partner, Octavia, and the way he's been observing her activities over the past two days. He looks at her almost like a project, something to be proud over the handiwork; maybe he's given her tips to work on and is waiting to see if she's good enough to ally with. It'd make sense to get the person with potential to shine to hone their skills before proposing an alliance.
But with Octavia, Cetronia remembers upon looking for the girl, is Phyllis from Seven. Short and unable to look anyone in the eye—a clear sign of weakness, right off the bat. But after today's show of strength, she can't help but wonder what the burly girl could be hiding under the shy facade. Cetronia drops her spoon into the bowl and picks her yogurt up with a deep intake of breath. Maybe they'll be the key she'd need to snag a Capitol tribute. Wave the girls in front of them, and the ones seeking shelter will flock to their sides in no time.
She carries the yogurt over to their table and sits down without so much as a word to them, effectively stopping whatever conversation they were having. Octavia's head shrinks into her neck, almost offended, while Phyllis squints at Cetronia.
Cetronia just continues eating her yogurt like normal.
"Can we help you?" Octavia says after a moment. Behind them the other groups chatter. Out of the corner of her eye, Cetronia can see Gossamer watching with interest.
"I saw that show of yours today," she starts. "You two are pretty skilled."
Uneasy glances. They either know what she'll ask and are uncertain about it, or they think she's here for something else entirely. Something of the threatening variety.
"Knight probably won't extend an invitation to you, since all he needs are Capitolites," Cetronia goes on. "And Adrianne isn't quite career material. You two, though—"
"No."
Cetronia actually gawks at Octavia. "Excuse me?"
"You're excu—" Octavia begins. Phyllis jumps in before she can finish, though. Good; Cetronia would probably put Octavia on her shit list alongside Wystan if she'd finished that sentence.
"Octavia and I already came to an agreement," Phyllis insists. She not-so-subtly kicks Octavia from under the table, earning a pained hiss from the girl. "We don't have anyone we're interested in allying with—"
Code for "don't trust anyone". There's no such thing as no one interesting enough to ally with.
"So we're just going to stick together for now. If we're both kicking around the final eight, we'll part ways."
Cetronia looks at the smaller girl. It's still hard to believe the punch she packs. She's so used to people being closer to her own height when that strength is shown off. As soon as she meets Phyllis's eye, the dark-haired girl shifts her gaze to Cetronia's shoulder.
"A pact, then," Cetronia says. "Using mutual distrust to make sure it falls through."
An uncomfortable look crosses Phyllis's face. "Essentially," she mumbles.
"You'd go farther with a third person."
"We'd split earlier if we all survive the bloodbath," Octavia jumps back in. "Final eight is the closest we can get to going our own ways peacefully without having to immediately fight and put ourselves at risk too soon."
"With a third," Phyllis adds, "we'd have to part at the midway point."
"If you survive."
She nods. "If we survive."
What a shame, she thinks. They both won't budge on the matter with the plan they've laid out, and they sure as hell don't seem to want to be in their own career pack. Despite having the skills for it and the raw power to survive, there isn't enough trust.
Cetronia can respect that. To a degree.
Right now, though, it's a mild annoyance. She huffs and picks up her yogurt, stuffing another spoonful of the stuff into her mouth as she does so. She heads back to her previous table and revises her plan to get a Capitolite on her side. She may have to rely on one of the useless ones—and she'll be damned if she does that.
A hiss comes from her left. Demanding and urgent, clearly directed at Cetronia as it repeats with every second she ignores it. Cetronia sighs as she looks over at Gossamer and Nikostratos. They'll either gloat at her failure to recruit even one outer District ally, or they'll be inexplicably impressed by her guts and ask to join her. She doubts the second one will happen.
But she looks anyway, and lo and behold Gossamer is waving her over—well, more like beckoning her with an inward-curling index finger. Less casual, more demanding and authoritative. She could just ignore him, try her luck with someone else after the failure of recruiting Octavia and Phyllis. But, she thinks as she moves her yogurt for a third time, a chance is a chance. Nothing ventured, nothing gained.
The first thing Gossamer does when she sits down is lean his elbows on the table, propping his chin against folded hands. Far from a demure expression aimed at her, and Nikostratos is the same.
"Gossamer," she greets.
"Cetronia," he returns.
"Nikostratos," she goes on.
"Just Croix is fine," Nikostratos replies sweetly.
Gossamer sniffs and smiles at her. "I notice your entourage is a little lacking," he says, stating the obvious. "Such a shame Mr. Knight keeps getting all the good ones, no?"
Ah. So it's not to laugh at her. It's to egg her on and test her temper. See if she can keep her cool.
"What of it?" she asks evenly.
"I was thinking," Nikostratos says, "maybe you don't need a willing alliance before the arena launch to be successful. It's not like every single career pack in Hunger Games history hasn't had a hostage or slave made of an outer District kid with the threat of their life."
"Twenty-Ninth Games," Gossamer adds with a pleased nod. "Broke one of his legs so he couldn't run and used him as bait."
"Genius," Nikostratos agrees. "Totally within the rules, as well."
"What's your point?" Cetronia interrupts. She will admit that she's interested in the statement, the way Nikostratos had emphasised that not every alliance had consensual members.
Gossamer smiles sweetly at her, mimicking Nikostratos's own toothy grin. "What if we organised something that benefits both of us?" he says. "Give you an alliance, give us a show?"
She glances over at the career table, where everyone talks animatedly about strategies and the like. It all could've been hers if she wasn't given some honour-bound kid as a partner, if someone had volunteered and made Two look more appealing than One.
So she leans forward, forgoing her yogurt, and says, "I'm listening."
Oooooooooh I wonder what the glorious bastards have planned with Cetronia :3c Since that'll probably get a good few theories, how about we make that the QQ?
QQ #20: What do you think Croix, Gossamer and Cetronia's plan will be?
Next chapter will be day three, and boy am I excited for it! Next time we'll be seeing Octavia, Church and Croix's perspectives! See you all then :D