Chapter Thirty-Six: Seeing the Bigger Picture

Still Training Day Three

Rhaemyr North, District Three Male

I think I've done a pretty good job of keeping a low profile so far.

Before Day Two rolled around, I decided that I didn't want any allies. While I worked best in a team back at home, we literally grew up together. I could be reasonably sure I wouldn't be stabbed in the back the second something went wrong with them. Some of us were even friends.

Here, I have none of those advantages. I don't know any of these kids, and unfortunately for them, they have to die if I want to come out. So making friends with any of them is just a recipe for disaster.

I'm perched halfway up the climbing wall, trying to figure out how anyone with a normal number of limbs is supposed to reach the top. There's this weird overhang that sticks at least a foot and a half out the wall directly over my head, and it extends far enough to either side that going around it probably isn't an option. Furthermore, I'm not in a very steady position to begin with- my left leg doesn't have anywhere to go, so right now I'm sort-of-balancing on one leg and letting my hands do the majority of the work. But I really shouldn't be stopping. In the Games, I don't think I'll be doing too much climbing unless something is chasing me, but if there is, if I stop, all that'll do is cause whatever (or whoever) is doing that to attack whatever part of me is closest.

I can't wait here a second longer. With a little side-hop to a slightly-higher peg that only sticks out about two inches, I throw myself at the overhang, managing to grab it with my fingertips. Pulling myself up, on the other hand, proves to be a lot harder, no matter how hard I kick to try and gain leverage.

Suddenly, I find a groove in the top, something I couldn't see from below the overhang. Probably meant as a handhold to make this part less impossible. It does prevent me from falling right away, but my other hand isn't making any progress and I can't find anywhere for either foot to rest. Soon, my grip starts failing, and all I can do is desperately swing side to side, hoping the momentum does something for me.

Ultimately, it does not. One badly-aimed swing was all it took for me to go flying sideways, much further than I expected. I almost crash into a petite girl who's also climbing before I go back the other way, then slowly drop to the ground.

Once I hit, everything fades into focus in a rush. Then, I notice the two girls standing underneath where the third girl is climbing. One doesn't seem to be doing much of anything, while the other has started to shout advice up the wall. "Don't overextend yourself, you'll just limit your options! You don't have to constantly move up, Lacey! Sometimes going to the side makes things easier!"

I decide to stay out of their way. Not because I'm worried they're going to do something to me- more because I'm afraid they'll ask if I want to ally with them. I've managed to avoid that scenario so far, but the second it becomes clear I'm going it alone, every Career, and plenty of people who aren't Careers, will want to kill me during the Bloodbath to make a statement.

After weaving my way through the haphazard mess of survival stations, I decide to go back to a station I've been visiting on a regular basis this entire time: the camouflage station. While I don't plan to just stand still and hide during the Games, even doing something as simple as covering yourself with black paint does wonders to make you harder to see at night. (Although, you have to wash it off before sunrise or you both look ridiculous and become easier to spot.)

The station is empty when I arrive. No other tributes, not even any trainers. Although, calling it a station would be generous. It's more a table with containers of quite a few spreadable substances (no, not the edible kind) that you're supposed to use on your skin. On that same table, there are also images of textures that have reappeared commonly throughout the history of the Games, as well as advice on how to best replicate them.

Well, time to think about what the Arena's going to look like to see which one will probably end up being the most useful. I've never watched the Games that closely, but I remember enough but them that I know the last three arenas were a snowy mountain range, a cluster of tropical islands, and some kind of oversized soup pot, respectively. Anything involving the arena being mostly water is probably out, as is anything involving the arena being obsessively hot or cold. Not sure what else to expect, I just get several shades of green out and start painting my arms to match the background of a field of tall grass and weeds.

Within ten minutes, I've gotten most of my right arm to blend in pretty well, which I see as a huge plus. Even though grass and weeds being in the arena isn't ensured, at least I can add another half-decent skill to the pot. I've got to pull out all the stops once it's my turn to try and impress the Gamemakers, and not being a one-trick pony will definitely help that.

Cutter, having taken a break from the sword station, calls out, "One hour remaining! After that, you'll have lunch, and after a little break once lunch is over, we'll start private sessions. Wouldn't do for you to throw up in here, now, would it?"

One hour. One hour to lunch. About three until judgement day. Time for the homestretch.

And at all costs, I have to make it count.

Maxxer "Max" Bent, District Twelve Male

Wow, do I suck at interacting with people.

Not in that I make people feel uncomfortable or anything (although I wouldn't be surprised if one or two make sure to keep an eye on me at all times), but in that I just can't do it. Every time I've tried to muster up the courage to start a conversation with someone in here, they've either moved on and I've lost the opportunity, or I managed to embarrass myself somehow without saying a single word.

Everyone appears to be traveling in an alliance, and I do mean everyone. The only person that I knew wasn't going to want one was Fox, and for whatever reason, she wasn't there when we got called to breakfast and didn't come down with me to the Training Center. I asked Haymitch and Corinne about it, but neither of them gave me a straight answer and I didn't want to push it.

Thus, here I am. Alone again, trying to purify this damn water and failing miserably.

I'm not even sure what I'm going to do for this stupid private session. I can barely fight, my knowledge of plants is mediocre at best, all my attempts at building a shelter have gone south in some way or another, and my physical abilities aren't that great either. I'm not even hoping for a high score anymore- my only goal is to not come in dead last.

Staring at the sludge in front of me, I run it through the strainer again, managing to get a little dirt out of it but not much else. The consistency is a bit better, but the color hasn't changed. Great.

"Wow. And I thought I was the only person who could screw that up."

I turn my head to find the source, and it's the guy from Eight, no doubt about it. Same face, same outfit, same missing fingers.

"I guess not," I say. "Who knew water was this damn difficult to clean?"

"Not me," he replies, deciding that this is the best way to make use of the tiny bit of time before lunch. Getting his own cup full of something that might contain water, he plops down next to me, starting his own process. "Hey, could you pass the iodine tablets?"

"I got it," I say, shoving the bottle over. He dumps a couple in, mixing it best he can, before wincing and cursing under his breath.

"Crap… you're supposed to put it through the strainer first…"

"Yep," I say. At least I managed to get that part of it right. "Didn't I tell you that the last time we met here?"

"Maybe. I don't remember," he says, dumping out his old cup and starting a new one. "I would if this wasn't basically the only time we ever talked to each other."

"Well, maybe we should talk to each other more often, then." I groan immediately after saying that. "That did not come out the way I wanted it to."

"Dude, spill the beans," he says. "If you want to tell me something, do it. It's not like we'll be around to hold grudges much longer, anyway."

On one hand, I really need an ally, especially since everybody under the sun seems to have one around here. However, is this really the kid I want to place trust in to keep me alive? How can he do that if he can barely get water clean? For all I know, he'd convince me to eat toxic berries the first time he had the chance.

Then again, he probably thinks I could do the same thing to him…

"Never mind," he says. "I should probably try something else in the tiny bit of time we have left. Maybe I'll see you again, maybe I won't, but either way, good luck, I guess."

He dumps his filthy water down the sink and hurries away, leaving me alone at the station once more.

Well, if I wanted an ally, I probably blew it. By now, he probably thinks I'm some nutcase that hangs around the water station for absolutely no reason.

Looks like I've just added something to my long list of screw-ups. But I've got to suck it up, get over it, and try to make the most of my private sessions. Whether or not I have an ally doesn't matter there.

All I need is some luck.

Artesia Alexander, District Ten Female

When lunch is finally called, I'm as ready for private sessions as I'm going to get.

As a group, we've done just about everything we feel is necessary in here: survival stations, combat stations, exercise stations, and everything in between. Now we just need a halfway-decent meal and we'll be ready to go.

By now, the hierarchy in here has gotten pretty noticeable, and it makes me feel both proud and nervous that we're close to the front. The Careers go to the front of the line, then us, then the girls from Six, Seven, and Eight. Everyone else forms this blob behind us and just sort of fills in wherever there's room.

This time, it's some sort of make-your-own-sandwich thing, with brightly colored bags of what appear to be snacks sitting at the far end alongside some fresh fruit. Thomiah and Odysea both create sandwiches that would probably be meant to feed four back home and pile on some fruit for good measure, while Faolan just takes some of the toppings and a bag of something that sounds crunchy. As for me, I go somewhere in the middle- I try to make my meal respectable but not overwhelming. Since our private sessions are close to the end, we'll have quite a bit of waiting to do before it's our turn to show our stuff, and I don't want to be either hungry or overfull when my time comes.

The Careers pick a table right in the center of everything, causing just about everyone else to stick to the fringes. I'm not sure if the others want to make a statement or just don't give a damn what the Careers think about them, but they all plunk their stuff down right next to the Careers, and albeit with a tiny hesitation, I follow their lead.

"Well, look who's here," the girl from One says in a tone that makes me want to punch her. "Look at you, thinking you can take us on."

The girl from Two adds, "Yeah, right. You're shaking just looking at us. Scared much?"

Suddenly, a voice from across the room says, "Like anyone could be scared of a group of egotistical hack jobs who can't even come up with halfway decent comebacks. Don't make me laugh."

All of the Careers go red in the face to at least some degree, and the girl from One actually stands up with her fists clenched, probably wanting to beat the crap out of whoever said that. It takes both her District partner and the girl from Four to hold her back, and even then, she openly proclaims that "You're dead, jackass! I'm going to gut you like a fish in the Bloodbath!"

"Keep thinking you're going to do that." Now, I can tell the voice belongs to the girl from Three, who's sat down right next to the Careers as well and is casually starting to eat a bunch of fat grapes. At the very least, that's caused the Careers to go relatively silent except for the girl from One muttering death threats.

Thomiah and Odysea attack their sandwiches, probably aiming to finish them in record time, while Faolan only picks at his food. I force myself to eat, but I barely taste a bite of the stuff, even if it is supposed to be delicious.

With the way things are going, nobody else wants to even slightly tick off the Careers, so everyone besides us and the girl from Three are sitting at tables as far away as possible from the center. Thus, it comes as a bit of a shock when the table that would sandwich us between the Careers suddenly becomes occupied with the girls from Six, Seven, and Eight. More accurately, the girl from Six hangs back at the far edge while her allies get close and personal with us.

After a few seconds of uncomfortable silence, the girl from Eight finally makes the first move. "Mind if we talk for a minute?"

Thomiah gives her an awkward look in between bites. "Uh, I don't see why not…"

"Perfect!" The girl's face lights up and her smile goes just a little too wide. I'm not sure what it is, but something about her just seems forced. Maybe she's way more stressed about this than she's letting on. I certainly am.

Our table suddenly has six occupants instead of four, with even the odd girl out sliding to the edge of her table to listen in on whatever conversation we're going to have.

"So," the girl from Eight says, "I'm going to cut right to the chase here. I'd like to propose a truce."

"Wait," Faolan says, "First off, why; and second off, how is that any different from allying?"

I decide to pitch in, just because I don't want them to see me as a non-entity. "And how do we know we can trust you?"

"In order," the girl from Seven says, "One, because our focus should be on the Careers and not you guys; two, it just means we won't kill or attack each other during the Bloodbath, it has nothing to do with working together; and three, you can't fully trust anyone here, deal with it."

Well, that made me uncomfortable. Faolan looks nervous, strangely enough, and now Odysea has stopped eating and is eyeing the trio suspiciously. Only Thomiah seems unfazed.

"As promising as that sounds," Thomiah says, "we have to decide what's best for the alliance as a whole. So even if I agree with that, let's do a group vote. Who else agrees with this?"

Faolan raises his hand. Odysea responds by firmly shaking her head. Thomiah raises his hand once more before turning to me. "Artesia?"

Wow, I hate being put on the spot like this, but I have to say something. "I agree, I'd like to make a truce with them."

"Well, that makes it three to one," Thomiah says. "Sorry, Odysea, but it looks like you're outnumbered here. Anyway-" he turns to the other alliance- "it's been nice talking with you. Let's make this truce official." He extends his hand to the girl from Eight, who shakes it and shakes it hard.

"Nice talking with you too," the girl replies. "Here's to hoping the Bloodbath goes smoothly."

Before anyone can say anything else, Cutter interrupts everyone by saying, "Five minutes left! Finish up! After that, you've got thirty guaranteed minutes to relax and then we'll start calling you down for private sessions by District."

Everyone resumes eating and stops talking. I do the same. However, I make a mental note to add that to the journal before I get called to private sessions. (Shouldn't be hard- I'll have a few hours.)

I'm not sure how this whole thing is going to turn out. It's just yet another variable in the complete mess of luck, skill, and nightmares that is the Hunger Games.

Sienna Starboard, District Four Female

We haven't even gotten to the Games yet, and this Career pack has been fractured to hell and back.

The girls from One and Two do not seem to get along with the guys, and I'm pretty confident that the feeling is mutual. I've been doing everything I can to keep up functioning as a unit (or at least staying out of the antics of either side of the argument), but with the way things are going, an early split seems all but inevitable.

It's times like these that I envy Sirena- her pack got along unusually well. Sure, arguments broke out here and there about the petty stuff you'd expect teenagers to fight over, but they always seemed to settle quickly and without bloodshed. On the other hand, if we had one of those arguments, at best it'd end with someone getting bloodied and at worst someone would die and the pack would be split.

Being in an elevator with all of them is thankfully a brief experience- Clara and Nascar barely seem to enter the elevator before they leave it, with Godric and Galadia not making it much longer before I'm left alone for two more floors.

Finally, the door opens with a pleasant ding, and I'm greeted by Sirena, who's smiling as she takes tentative sips from a mug of something hot.

"Nice to see you back," she says. "You ready for private sessions?"

"Sure am," I say with as much enthusiasm as I can muster.

"Can't wait to see you afterward," Sirena says. "I know you'll do great. We all do."

Thankfully, in these private sessions we're analyzed individually and not as a group, so at least I won't be hampered by the animosity that's starting to brew within the pack. However, the second that scores come out, whoever gets the highest one will take the leadership role from that point on. I'm hoping it's me, but my hope is stronger that it doesn't end in a tie- the people with the top score will probably get into a nasty fight over why they should lead the pack.

Vick arrives a little later, looking tired and sweaty but not as nervous as I would expect. I can't really tell if he's putting on a brave face or if he's just that fearless, but either way, it deserves some respect.

"I have a feeling private sessions are going to be the most stressful experience of my life," Vick says. I can't say I disagree.

"Understandable, they were stressful for me, too," Sirena says. "Now, you should have already figured out what you're doing by now, even if you have until you're called down to figure it out. So, what's the plan, each of you? Vick, you go first."

"Kind of a mishmash," Vick says. "Use the knives, start a fire, the works."

"Nice to know you're ready," Sirena says. "And as for you, Sienna, I'm assuming you'll do something with a trident and swim?"

"Yes," I say back. "Maybe add a survival skill on top of that, but yes."

"Makes sense," Sirena says. As soon as that's all said and done, Mako arrives and takes Vick by the hand.

"Sorry, Sirena," he says as he begins walking Vick back toward his room, "I've just got a couple of things I need to talk with him about in private. If you need him for anything else, just tell me before he goes down."

"Don't worry about it," Sirena adds. "I've got some things I want to talk about with just Sienna, so this works out perfectly anyway. I'll see you soon."

Mako and Vick close the door behind them when they enter Vick's room, leaving the two of us alone. Then, Sirena turns to me.

"Sienna, I know you better than anyone else here. Just tell me the truth about this: do you feel ready to enter the Games?"

I'm not sure what to say about that. If she means physically ready, then yes, I'm in peak condition and ready to go. But mentally ready? That's when it veers into more uncertain territory, especially since the likelihood of the pack splitting early and leaving us as loners who hate each other is far higher than usual.

In the end, I decide to suck it up. I got myself here, now I just need to get myself home. "Yes."

"That's the spirit," Sirena says.

Just then, the man on the intercom makes an announcement. "Private Sessions are starting in ten minutes. All tributes, please report to the training hall. I repeat, all tributes please report to the training hall."

"Well, that's your cue," Sirena says. "I'm wishing you good luck, but I don't think you'll need it."

"Hopefully not," I say. I'm shooting for a ten so I can at least tie the top score (because there hasn't been an eleven since Crag Anamiko got one almost a decade ago, I think it's safe to assume they won't break the trend again this year) because in that case, I'll at least get treated as equal by everyone else. And after that, it won't be hard to help guide the Career pack as far as it can go. Which is good.

Because barring a miracle, I don't think I can do this on my own.

Alliance Tracker:

Careers: Nascar, Clara, Godric, Galadia, Sienna

Sort-of-Allied Team #1: Faolan, Artesia, Thomiah, Odysea

Sort-of-Allied Team #2: Zari, Alexa, Lacey

Opposites Attract: Spark, Catarina

One-Way Romance: Marius, Toren

Loners (for now): Rhaemyr, Sotia, Vick, Remi, Aryion, Romeo, Maxxer, Fox

Author's Notes:

-I'm back. I don't really have much else to say except to talk about something fun I did while I was wrapping this up. Being a big fan of weird electronic background music, I decided to find a background track for each character here. After a day or so of searching, I created a full list, which is below:

-Nascar: NemesisTheory - Show No Tears
-Clara: Terminite - Beastmode

-Godric: Xtrullor - Supernova
-Galadia: Creo - Rivals

-Rhaemyr: Waterflame - Streetwise
-Sotia: Bossfight - Dr. Finkelfracken's Cure

-Vick: Goukisan - Betrayal of Fate
-Sienna: Spaze - Family

-Spark: KabukiTunes - Come Alive
-Catarina: BoomKitty - Spicy Noodles

-Remi: ALESDA - STMS Nation
-Zari: VideoGameManiac - Dancing Flowers

-Aryion: DJ-Nate - Regret
-Alexa: Hinkik - Outbreaker

-Romeo: Steampianist - Ugly Fuel (Instrumental Version)
-Lacey: LeaF - Mope Mope (Warning: Official music video for this is somewhat disturbing)

-Marius: ThiefOfVoid - Lonely (Ft. SKE)
-Toren: MadhouseDUDE - Jet Set

-Faolan: Geoplex - Florescence
-Artesia: TheFatRat - Monody

-Thomiah: Austin C - Smile
-Odysea: Cacola - Lit Fuse

-Maxxer: Novacore - Dynamo
-Fox: Acid-Notation - Fury

-If you don't think the music fits, just message me and either I'll search for a replacement or you can suggest one.

-All in all, I just hope you enjoyed this chapter and I'll see you at the Private Sessions!