Caleb Odalric (18)- D5M

Breakfast with Amelia is always incredibly awkward. I'm not one for conversation in the first place, and I can tell she isn't either. She's been sticking to me during training, trying whatever I try without speaking to me. She's not terrible with a bow and arrow, which is the only weapon I've decided to show during my training as to not reveal my strength. I don't have much weapons training, but my father has taught me how to use a baton and somewhat of a blade, and I don't want the Careers catching on.

Amelia spoons some rich blueberry yogurt into her mouth, avoiding my eyes as usual. Jett is sitting at my feet, panting loudly. I've been playing catch with him around the apartment, much to our escort's displeasure. She hates animals, but I don't care. Our mentors don't seem to mind, and neither does Amelia.

I feed Jett a piece of breakfast ham from the table, his eyes widening comically as he chomps down on the treat. His black fur is much more shiny now that I've given him a bath. I still don't know how he got here in the Capitol, but I assume he knew I was leaving and that I needed his support.

"Don't feed it from the table," our escort snaps shrilly at me from the living room.

I roll my eyes. "His name is Jett. Not 'it'."

"It's a filthy animal that belongs in District Five," she sneers.

"Let's calm down," one of our mentors says slowly, his voice thick like the wine that he drinks practically every day. "We need to be a team."

"He's right," I say. I glance at Amelia, who is still staring at her yogurt, apparently afraid to meet anyone's eyes.

"You know, we would make a good team," I say quietly.

She looks up, her eyes filled with fear. "Yeah…" she says quietly.

I rub Jett's head as he searches for more ham. "Like me and Jett. We've been together since my sister died four years ago."

Amelia looks up suddenly at me. She chews slowly on her blueberries, staring at me with shock apparent on her face. "How… did she die?"

"In the Games," I say quietly. Jett licks in between my fingers. "The guy from One killed her during the bloodbath. She was just a child. Sometimes I think she sent Jett from wherever she is to protect me."

"That's beautiful," Amelia says. Her voice is soft, but not hard to hear. She reminds of Nina too, in a way. "I have someone like that too. Her name is Elanor."

"A dog?"

"No, a person," Amelia giggles quietly, then her face turns solemn. "I guess I'll be her Nina."

Albert "Triple A" Anderson (13)- D9M

"Great job!" The instructor says incredulously. "You really know your plants."

"Thanks," I say smugly. My expertise from the woods is paying off nicely. I don't have many skills with weapons other than large knives from the butchery, but I'm fast and smart. The other tributes really shouldn't underestimate me.

After I'm finished with the plans station, I glance around the room. I see Zel working at the fire station. I decidedly look away. I've tried not to get attached to her, even though I do feel bad for her. I can't let Zel's baby get inside my head. My head only has room for knowledge for the Games. Everything else needs to be thrown out.

I find myself wandering to the camouflage station. The short, artificially grown trees are the closest thing to a forest that I have access to. Every night, I set my walls to show me a peaceful forest to help me sleep, but I miss the voice of the woods. The wind whistling through the trees, the birds singing sweetly, the sunlight dappling my face through the leaves…

"Hello?"

I blink rapidly, realizing where I am. The camouflage instructor is staring at me with concern.

"Yes, sorry."

I try as hard as I can to paint myself to look like a tree, but my mind keeps wandering back to District Nine. I miss Elle and Minka and keesher, and my grandmother. She'll be lost without me, and Elle won't be able to deal with her by herself.

After I'm finished painting, I head over to the obstacle course. It feels good to be able to let out some energy. The exhaustion afterward is a welcome release of emotion. Anger, sadness, overwhelming fear. I can only hope the arena has a wooded area so I can show the Capitol what I'm made of.

I finish the obstacle course in under five minutes, an admirable time. I've always been quick on my feet, and a glance at the Careers weighing their weapons in their hands is enough to convince me to steer clear of the cornucopia during the bloodbath. The trees will give me everything I need to survive.

My eyes are drawn to where the girl from Twelve- Eryn- is at the trap-making station. I can't help but gulp at her beautiful hazel eyes and wavy blonde hair. She truly might be the most beautiful girl I've ever seen. I know it's stupid to form silly crushes at a time like this… or is it the perfect time? We might both be dead in a couple of days. I might as well go talk to her.

I quietly make my way to the traps, sitting down next to her and listening to the instructor. The slipknot is easy enough, though the butterfly knot presents a challenge.

"It doesn't even look like a butterfly," Eryn complains under her breath.

I laugh softly, and I don't miss her grin. She looks up at me with a fond gleam in her eye. She blushes a little when she sees me looking at her.

"I haven't had anyone to talk to since we got here," I say. "Do you want to stick together?"

She seems surprised at my forwardness, and I feel my own palms start to sweat when I realize what I've done. But she just laughs and says, "Sure."

Andrew "Drew" DeLuce (18)- D4M

I feel around the ground for another stick, my fingers curling around the wood. I take a deep breath and start to rub it against the fire block, hoping against hope that this time i will manage to start a fire. I've been at this station all morning with no luck. My weapons skills are the best they can be, but I never thought I was going to actually need to find food and water in the arena. The Careers can always rely on the cornucopia to provide for us, but now that life line is gone. My life is truly in jeopardy, just like any one of the Reaped tributes. Everytime I think about it, my stomach tightens into knots. I'm no better than a scared twelve-year old who's never picked up a knife. No, I'm even worse off than that.

"Apply more pressure," the instructor tells me. I wish I could see the look on his face. His voice sounds normal, but I wonder if he's watching me with regret or indifference, or the worst- pity. When I had the surgery years ago and lost the vision in my right eye, everyone had thought that I would drop out of the Academy. They thought any sort of disability was a liability in the arena, but I proved them all wrong. And now they're all waiting for me back in Four, waiting for their victor. My mother will be making fruit and meat platters for her viewing parties, with Fiona stealing bites when she's not looking. Gregory will be spending time at the Academy, practicing his trident skills and waiting for the day he will be able to volunteer.

We always talked about being a pair of brother victors, just like Hadrian plans to be with Cassius. But I guess things don't always work out like that. All I have to do is ask Nikki. Her brother Marcus had died in the Games, and now she's here with double the pressure on her shoulders. I guess I'll be Gregory's Marcus.

I hear a spark against the fire stone and jump in surprise. The instructor laughs nervously. "Don't be afraid. Noises are to be expected before the fire starts. That was a good try, though. You almost had it!"

I grunt noncommittally Even without seeing his face I can tell he's lying. If anything one spark means I'm not even halfway there. I try again and again and again until I can feel the heat of the sparks on my fingertips, but there's still no flame. I throw the sticks down in frustration and attempt to stand up, stumbling until I reach my hand out and grab something beside me.

"Whoa, sorry," a male voice says.

I stand up straight again and clear my throat. "Don't stand so close to people when they're making fires."

"There didn't seem to be a whole lot of fire-making going on," the voice says sarcastically.

I feel myself bristle, but I don't even know who I'm talking to. "What district are you from?"

"You didn't do your homework," the voice chuckles. "That's interesting. What are you doing away from the other Careers?"

"None of your business," I mumble, forgetting my original plan and plopping back down to the ground.

"Whatever. I need to make a fire too, so move over."

I huff and try to scootch away from the voice, but end up almost falling over.

"Are you okay? It seems like something's wrong."

"I'm fine," I snap, though the news must come out at some point. And it might as well be from me…

"Are you sure? You look a little… panicked."

Is that really the vibe that my eyes give off? "I'm not panicked. I'm… blind."

There's a pregnant pause. "You mean in one eye, right?"

"No." I take a deep breath. "Both eyes. It happened on the train ride here."

"Shit. That sucks."

I snort in laughter. "Yeah. It sucks."

"You're on your own then?" I hear something rustle next to me as the guy takes a seat.

"Yeah."

We sit quietly for a few more minutes. I hear the boy trying to make a fire next to me, the sticks rubbing together and the tell-tale sparks. His are coming easier than mine did, and in a few minutes he whoops in triumph. "I did it!"

"At least you stand a chance," I say bitterly, kicking at the dirt underneath our feet.

"I wouldn't say you don't stand any chance," the boy says, still cheery from his accomplishment. "I mean, you can swim and stuff. You're from Four."

"You didn't tell me where you're from?"

"I'm from Eleven."

My brain conjures up an image of a tall, wiry boy pushing the Reaping ball of off the stage. His lighter skin and piercing green eyes certainly set him apart from most Eleven tributes anyway.

"Do you want to teach me how to make a fire? The instructor's given up on me."

Marjorem "Jo" Paella (17)- D11F

The knives are easier to throw than yesterday. Several of them stick into the target in front of me, getting closer to the bull's eye with each toss. After all my knives have flown out of my hands, I go retrieve them from the targets. As I pluck the final one from the target's circle, another knife flies past my head. The blade buries itself in the target next to my head, making me gasp.

I look back so quickly my neck cracks. The instructor yells, "Be careful of your fellow tributes!"
"Sorry," the culprit says flatly. "I didn't see her."

I glare at the girl from Three, whose black fringe covers most of her face, one glowing green eye staring through me emotionlessly.

"She saw me!" I snap. "She was trying to scare me! Well, good luck Three!"

"Whatever, Capitolite," she spits at me, somehow keeping her tone even and easy to hear despite all the noise in the room. "I guess you're just not used to your life being in danger like the rest of us."

"I volunteered to save my friend!" I shout, throwing aside the knives. "You don't know what I've been through!"

"Break it up, you two," Atala says loudly, pushing between us. "No fighting until the arena."

"I'm not trying to fight," the girl says, walking away without another word. I can imagine myself throwing one of my knives into the back of her head, watching her fall to the ground.

I push Atala away and stalk over to the sword station, ignoring the One who give me a suspicious once-over. I pick up the sword, surprised by the weight that pulls at my shoulders. I take a jab at the nearest dummy and slash another across the chest, breathing hard. The Ones are whispering amongst themselves, probably about my altercation with the Three girl. I turn away again in anger and clumsily take the head off another dummy. I'm breathing hard by the time I'm finished and the girl approaches me quietly.
"Are you really from the Capitol?" she asks, her curly blonde hair bouncing behind her.

"No!" I say angrily. "I was born in District Eleven, for your information."

"Alright, alright," the girl says calmly. She looks me up and down. "I just thought you might be a good addition to our alliance. The Capitol will love you regardless of where you were born."

I lean in closer to her so I can see the impeccable makeup that's been applied to her face. "You can take your alliance- and shove it with your sword up your pretty little ass."

Her eyes widened and she turned away, muttering something about how I'm "so rude!", but I don't care what the Careers think of me. The only thing I have to worry about is what the Capitol thinks of me, even though I hate to admit it. The girl was right… I have an advantage over the other tributes whether or not I acknowledge it. I might as well play it up as much as I can.

Tiger Emerald (18)- D1M

The bell that rings for lunch reminds me of the bells in the District One school, and it's not too far off from my experience so far. I can't exactly say that my time in the Capitol has been what I hoped it would be. For one, my parents don't support me and think I'm a weak fool. Then one of my allies goes completely blind and we lose his strength in the arena. Sure, he will make an easy target, but the Career alliance is weaker without all of its players. Then I realized who one of my other allies are… Hadrian Cato. The brother of Cassius Cato.

Everytime I look at him, the arm on my arms stand on end. He and Rufina are laughing gleefully at Tiffany's story about how the girl from Eleven tried to sass her earlier, and every time he opens his mouth I want to stick an axe into his face.

"Everyone here is so ungrateful," Tiffany harps. "They get the chance to represent their district in the country's most important pageant and this is how they act? Where's their sportsmanship? Or even their sense of competition?"

"I don't think the outer districts really know how to compete," Hadrian says with mouthful of lavender rice. "That's why they're so poor; I mean think about it! The Captiol needs them just as much as they need us, and yet they're starving in the streets. They expect everything to be given to them."
"I'm starting to think you're right, Hadrian," Tiffany says bitterly, staring at the eleven girl from across the room. "I even asked her if she wanted to be in our alliance and she turned it down."

"Well, we don't need her anyway," Hadrian says. "Unless we wanted to kill her while she slept to eliminate the threat."

"Just like your brother," I snort, taking a swig of sparkling Capitol water.

Hadrian raises an eyebrow at me. "What does that mean exactly?"

"Don't tell me you don't remember what your brother did in the arena."

A tense silence has fallen over our table, something that doesn't happen often between Hadrian's rowdiness and Rufina's jokes.

"Do you mean when Cassius killed the remaining Careers when they reached the final five?" Nikki asks, hitting the nail on the head.

"That's right. Remember the girl from One and the guy from Four whose heads your brother bashed in while they slept?"

"I remember, all right," Hadrian rumbles. "What is it to you?"

"That was my cousin, you idiot," I hiss, spearing a piece of honeyed ham on my fork. "Blush Emerald, placed fifth in the 71st Hunger Games."

"Damn, I'm sorry," Hadrian says, his eyes cool and calm. "But that's just how it is, Tiger. It's just like we were saying, it's all about competition."

"He killed her while she was sleeping. It wasn't a fair fight."

"Everything's fair in the arena, Tiger," Rufina says, seeming unconcerned. "Cassius won fair and square."

Though anger is still seething inside me, I try not to let it show in the face of my allies' collected demeanors. Blush is the reason that my parents don't want me in the Games, the reason I've had to fight for everything I have, all because Hadrian's brute brother decided she would be a worthy competitor in the final fight. I guess I'll just have to show Hadrian in the arena what it's like to be betrayed.

Antonia "Attie" Montgomery (17)- D6F

Lunch is a strange affair. The boy from Four seems to have been dropped from the Careers, instead eating with the boy from Eleven. Though the other tributes haven't caught on yet for whatever reason, there is definitely something wrong with his vision. As for the other alliances, there are several district partners seated together, and not much conversation happens except for at the Career table. On the other side of the room, Jason sits alone, making it clear he wants nothing to do with me. He thinks I don't notice how the girl from Four keeps looking at him whenever she can. I know he will probably replace her district partner in the Career alliance, his Peacekeeper training making him either a valuable ally or a target.

After lunch is over, we head back to the training area. I stay in the survival stations, making sure I know my edible plants, how to make a fire, and how to treat a wound before anything else. However, after an hour or so I start to feel antsy and wander over to the weapons. I don't try my hand at any of them, but eavesdrop on the instructors as they give their advice to the others. I don't want to show the other tributes my strengths or weaknesses by picking up any weapons, but listening in itself will be a huge help if I ever get my hands on one in the arena.

The pair from Five are at the bow and arrow station right now, the girl trying to pull back the string. The instructor adjusts her grip and stance before she lets the arrow fly. It misses the target completely, but she tries again and again until it sticks in the dummy's chest. I watch her feet and hands as closely as I can to try to learn something. It seems simple enough, but I know it will be much more difficult in practice.

Over at the throwing knives station, the girl from Three- Tesla- is back. It seems her altercation with the Eleven girl hasn't lowered her determination, and I can tell her skills have improved. In fact, she has been rotating throughout many of the survival stations all day, the same as yesterday. My guess is she wants to master each of them through repeated practice. It's a good strategy, better than staying at one place for a couple hours before moving on to the next. She seems like a smart girl overall, and likely to get at least a medium training score. And depending on how she does in her interview, maybe even some sponsors.

I hope she remembers my name as I approach her quietly. "Hey," I say. She turns sharply, her expression softening slightly when she sees who it is.

"Hey. I thought you were the Capitolite."

"No, I wasn't fed off of solid gold plates, trust me."

A grin splits her face. "Good. Neither was I. Do you want a try with the knives?"

"No thank you," I say. "I'm no good. I like to stick with the survival stations, but I'm having trouble with the edible plants. I saw you were good with them and I was wondering if you could help me."

I hope the invitation is enough to entice her to show off her skills. She squints a little at me, as if trying to figure out my game, but I give her my best naive face.

"Sure, Attie."

Pixel Mackaby (15)- D3M

I keep an eye on everyone in the room as I gently wrap my arm in a cloth bandage. It's extremely forbidden for tributes to fight before the Games, but I can't be too careful. What if the Careers decide to eliminate the easiest competition before the Games even start? There's a first for everything.

Or what if the others are scouting for bloodbath kills? Everyone knows that killing young, weak tributes earns easy points at the beginning of the Games. I don't want to draw attention to myself in the least little bit, so I stay at the medicine station for most of the afternoon and learn how to dress wounds. Tesla is busy with the girl from Six at the plants station, so I can't go over there. Most of the weapons are hogged by the Careers and older tributes, as usual. The Sevens are at the knives right now, and the Eights are at the maces.

Eventually I work up the courage to sneak over to the spears. The girl from Two is usually messing with them, but right now she's at the axes with the guy from One. I pick up the smallest size, one that looks to be used more for up-close combat than throwing, and wave it around a little. I pull it over my shoulder and let it fly, missing the target completely. I feel my ears go red, but no one seems to notice. I pick up another, bigger this time, and carefully read the instructions next to the station. I balance my body like the person in the illustration and throw again, but to no avail. I try again and again until I have some accuracy, occasionally hitting the dummy, though far away from the target chest and head areas. As I pick up another spear, a throat clears behind me. I turn suddenly, my heart starting to pound at the sight of the Two girl. She raises an eyebrow at me.

"Well? Are you done failing yet?"

I bow my head and put the spear back, quickly retreating back to the survival stations portion of the room. I should have known better than to invade their space. I need to stick to my original plan; hide in the shadows and hope they forget about me. It's my plan for training and for the arena.

Although, I have been thinking about a special strategy to get home safely. Though he won too long ago to be my mentor, I remember Beetee Latier's Hunger Games, where he electrocuted the remaining tributes, cutting the Games short and declaring himself the victor. Many tributes from Three have since tried similar tactics, none of them being particularly successful, but it can't hurt to try. All I would need is a source of water big enough for the others to stand in, a knife, and some sort of wire. From there I could tie the wire around the knife and throw it against the force-field surrounding the arena. Surely the electric current would kill anyone in the water, leaving me either as victor or with less competition. It's a long shot, but many victors have had long shot plans before. Three isn't known for our prowess with weapons, but our brains are what set us apart.

I glance as Tesla. She knows how to control herself, but does she have the brain to get her through the difficult weeks to come? I wouldn't count on it.

I kneel at the knot-tying station and pay close attention to the instructor's hands. If this is going to work, I'll need quick, tight knot-tying skills. I practice with rope first, then string, then even twigs in order to make sure I can do it with really small and stiff objects.

My success will be mainly up to the Gamemakers of course. Either there will be wire at the cornucopia or not; there will be large bodies of water or not; they will be close enough to the forcefield or they won't. But victors have won with less of a plan than this.

Willow Whitebeam (17)- D7F

"I bet you won't go and take the bow and arrow from the Four girl," Seb says, nodding towards the girl. She's been letting arrow after arrow fly, most of them hitting near the bull's eye. We've spent most of our time at the knives, and I can tell he's starting to get bored.

"You haven't even tried these yet, lazy ass," I say, slashing another dummy's stomach open. I've been gradually getting better since she started yesterday, and no one can deny I would make a formidable opponent in close combat.

"And I won't," Seb say flatly. "Knives aren't my thing. But a bow and arrow is a great weapon. It's long distance."

"So are throwing knives, Seb," I say, rolling my eyes. "I'm not going to waste my time trying every weapon when I can master one."

"Fine," Seb jumps down from the railing that he's been sitting on. "But I dare you to go steal it from her. Just for kicks."

I think about it for a moment, and then shrug. I set down my weapons and walk to the bow station, Seb following behind me gleefully. The Four girl shoots another arrow, her brow furrowed in concentration.

"Can I have a turn?" I ask, fully expecting her to spit in my face. Instead, she blinks in surprise and hands me the bow, silently leaving for the tridents.

"Well, that was fun," I say sarcastically, handing Seb the bow. "Great dare. I'm going back to my knives now."

"I really thought I was going to get a show," Seb says in wonder.

Suddenly there is a ruckus behind us, the sounds of blades clattering on the floor, someone yelling. We turn to see it's the boy from Two and the Eights again, going at it fiercely.

"Well, you might just get it," I say in amusement, crossing my arms. The trainers immediately run over to separate the two parties, the Two boy insisting that we wasn't going to is reflecting concern and some anger, eyebrows drawn together.

"What is it?" I ask. "Those kids annoy you too?"

"They're only twelve," he says angrily. "I can't believe someone would volunteer to kill do anything, not really. I glance at Seb and see surprisingly that he's not amused. Instead his face children."

"You volunteered," I remind him. He gives me a look and starts toward the Eights. I sigh in a long-suffering sort of way and end up following him, despite everything telling me to go back to the weapons.

"Are you two okay?" I hear him ask, making me want to stab him between the shoulderblades right now. Concerning ourselves with two twelve year olds shouldn't be our priority right now.

"We're fine," the boy says, his weird purple fringe covering most of his face. "Let's go, Sock."

"Wait!" Seb stops them. The two look back with curiosity, though distrust lingers in their eyes.

"What is it?" the boy asks.

"I've seen you two at the weapons stations. You're pretty good."

"Thank you," the girl-Sock- says cooly. "But we don't need your approval."

"I know that," Seb says. "But no one would expect us to team up." He glances over at me. "Willow and I are outer district too, and we're not afraid of the Careers."

"Seb," I say warningly, but he shushes me.

"We'll think about it," the boy says slowly, grabbing the girl's arm and leading her away.

"What are you doing?" I hiss as Seb comes back over to me. "They're so young!"

"They're smart," he says defensively. "And you're right about me volunteering. But I did it to protect people, not to kill them."

"You're ridiculous," I say, turning away. It's almost time to leave anyway. Maybe I can ignore him for the rest of the day.

Hello everyone! Here's the second day of training. Only one more day before we get to the private sessions with the Gamemakers.

It occurred to me recently that I didn't include a private sessions section on my tribute profiles. This isn't a huge problem since there was a training strategy and weapon of choice section, but if you would like your tribute to do something in their session that wasn't on their original profile, you can PM me. However, like I said before, I can gather pretty much everything I need from the other sections on the profile, so it is by no means necessary. Just something to keep in mind! Until the next chapter~