"Dear Tributes, today is day one of training. This time has been presented to you for a chance for the untrained and uneducated to survive. We have hired only the very best to help you during your time here. Several different stations have been set up for you to train in both physical asPects as well as more intelligence based ones. We encourage you to get to know the other tributes, as everyone will be exposed together here. We hope you enjoy your time here. Happy training."

Midas looked around him. This was the first time all the tributes were really interacting. Sure they had the chariot parade but this was something different, you know? Here, everyone was cautious of their every move. Their actions weren't just observed from afar, now everyone was up close and personal. Prejudices and grudges were clear. Your standing on the war clear from just who you chose to associate yourself with. Midas was certain everyone here knew Hollis to be a rebel, how could they not? The same way he was sure everyone could tell Maya was of the opposite standing. He'd be dammned if someone had missed the fact that he and Maya had history, something Midas believedd to be clear as day.

Midas was hoping to avoid people here as much as possible. He didn't want to interact with anyone. He'd decided that today he was going to observe, not engage. He was going to watch, this was his strategy. The war had taught him how to survive on the minimalistic of conditions. How one must adapt to their surroundings of they wanted even a chance at survival. This was no different from the war, it was just disguised as something different. The only flaw in his plan had to be Maya, who he was sure would try and interact with him, no doubt about it. Midas didn't know why he found Maya so infuriating. Why he continued to play their endless game of cat and mouse, but he did.

Midas would be lying if he said that he didn't believe himself smarter than the average boy. Not in the way of math or English. But he knew the real world, he'd seen fighting up front, he'd lived through a war. He experienced constant nightmares, visions of sights he wished never to revisit. He understood the art of body language, how if you observed enough you began to catch on to what your opponent was going to do next. The slight strain in the wrist, or the tension that released in one's shoulders. Those were clues that in a fight you had to use to your advantage. It was only logical.

Midas would never explicably say it, but he thought that Maya felt the same. He refused to see comparisons between him and Maya because he represented the rebellion, she represented everything Midas was not. But they were intertwined,two sides of the same coin, they had similarities, they were similar. In ways Midas really hated acknowledging. But he was not going to spend his whole life in denial, he knew they shared traits and though processes. Add that to the list of why Midas wanted so badly to eliminate her.

Currently, him and Maya were together. Not yet moving to a station, instead the two of them were observing. Their escort had obnoxiously dressed them quite similarly. He tugged a little self consciously on the helm of his light green shirt, which he'd been told complimented his golden hair quite nicely. Maya's stated that she thought it looked better on her, he hadn't had the heart to start an argument. Not now. Here, was where his plan to kill the girl who'd tried to do the exact same thing to him would start. Where his revenge would truly unfold. Midas liked to think himself the hero, but sometimes he wondered if in Maya's story he was portrayed as something akin to a villain.

Midas was boredly contemplating where he should start, sure some of the stations appeared emptier than others, but there was still the looming threat of Maya. He was hoping to choose a station after she did so he could purposefully avoid her, but the girl in question wasn't seeming to move. Midas tried his best to just ignore her completely.

They were one of the first to arrive. There were the two tributes from three, who Midas had brushed off as not threats, and the tributes from both two and four.

The tributes from three were talking together, them too dressed similarly. With Maya and Midas it was more visible, but Midas could see that the tributes's outfits definitely seemed too similar for it to be only a coincidence. They were at a knot station, the boy seemed to be doing fine. The girl seemed distracted and out of it, her own knot laid undone and abandoned on the table. She seemed fidgety and awkward with her partner, but Midas didn't think the sight was too strange or very impressive.

The girl from two scared him slightly. Well, not exactly scared. She unnerved him. Same as Maya used too, she just seemed to radiate hostility everywhere she went. A sadisstic sort of glint in her eyes that Midas found extremely hard to ignore. She seemed... honestly, she didn't feel human. She was simply, strangely playing with some knives at the moment, seeming to contemplate which one to throw before shrugging, smiling and effortless throwing one towards the target. The knife sailed through the air with such speed that Midas could have sworn if he'd blinked he would have missed it. She missed, the knife just barely grating the target and the girl seemed so unpleased that she just kept throwing. Knife after knife, her dissatisfaction seeming to fuel her every shot. Desperation and anger pooling through her arm, yet her face never betrayed these emotions, not even once. She just kept smiling, and Midas was unnerved. It seemed inhumane.

His thoughts were abruptly ended by the feeling of Maya's eyes on him and he turned. Curiosity and basic human instinct got the better of him. His blue eyes narrowed upon seeing the smile Maya was currently sporting. "So, Midas, where do you want to start?" Midas should have known. Maya was waiting for him to make the first move so that she could follow after him. Lazily, he looked back towards the tributes. "Not sure, what about you?" Just keep pretending. You both know that it's pretend. First person to back out loses. Just keep pretending. Just keep pretending.

"Hmm, we don't really need weapon training do we, Midas? We had the rebellion to prepare us for that. Although my weapon of choice is a gun, I was taught on the basics of swordplay. You used hand to hand combat, did you not?" Maya's voice was filled with a basic inquiry that Midas was certain was fake. As was the mock thinking she seemed to demonstrate. Eyes pointed upwards and a finger to her lips, as if lost in thought. Midas knew that she knew this stuff by heart. No need for the act, Midas thought. Even though he knew that statement was so obviously false.

"Yeah, didn't really get much formal training." His hands were in the pockets of his coat, as he continued to feign interest in the different stations, as of he were contemplating which one to go to. He heard Maya make a hum of though. "Is that so, maybe we should start off with a weapon station then. I could teach you the basics of sword." Midas shook his head, no way was he accepting Maya's offer to publicly humiliate him.

"We could go to the plant station. Neither of us really learmed about that stuff. Right?" Midas finally tuned to face her, just in time to see her nod in approval. Arms now folded across her chest. If any of the other tributes found the two of them just standing and talking at the entrance of the building strange, they didn't decide to comment on it.

"Well, off we go then." Maya started walking before she even finished her sentence. Leading him to the station. Their act of mock politeness burned Midas slightly. He hated it, but this was just another competition too between the two was it not? Everythng was a competition between them. But this wasn't something like who could eat their pie the quickest, or who would get to the hill first. These were psychological games that messed with his very mind and made him have to think twice before doing anything. These games were never addressed out loud. If either of them ever did, then the other won. And if they were ever going to let the other do anything, it most certainly wasn't to let them win the game. These games meant something to them, what exactly neither of them really knew. Just that losing it would most definitely mean death.

As they made their way to plant station, Midas caught the eye of the girl from four, loyalist for sure, who gave him a bored look before returning to her swords. Sparring with the trainer and seemingly winning. Definitely loyalist. Midas made a mental note of the girl being both a threat and an annoyance. Also as someone to avoid.

Midas turned back towards his destination, the instructor seeming to be nowhere in sight but it didn't matter much to Midas. Maya turned back to look at him, "Do you see the instructor anywhere?" He returned her question with a shake of the head and a half shrug. The very epitome of uninterested. He also used her moment of stop and inquiry to pass her, and sit down at the station where they should be learning about plants. Maya followed soon after and plopped herself down beside him on the ground. A few books and different types of plants were laid out before them, Midas reached forward to grab two, handing one to the girl beside him. Who's eyes flashed in brief surprise before being masked again by a gracious smile.

"No need to act so surprised." It was a taunt and they both knew it. It was Midas' way of telling her that he saw through her act. That no matter how hard she tried he would see through whatever means she used to mask her emotions. That he could read her and there was nothing that she could do about it. Maya simply chuckled, a small and giggly one, "Sorry." Her way of telling him that it wouldn't happen again and just try and read her next time. That Maya would make sure that Midas wouldn't get the better of her again and to say she would be better than him. That she wasn't losing this game. Midas simply smiled in return.

He flipped to a random page on the book, it was a small thing no bigger than his hand. He flipped to a random page. Carnation, a flower, something he wouldn't need to know. Nothing special about it. Not a herb nor a poison, just a flower. One that ironically represented Pride and beauty, both traits he wouldn't even hesitate to associate with Maya. Sighing he closed the book, he'd just wait for the instructor to arrive. And so he sat and waited, watching Maya as she read and pretended that she didn't notice him staring. It always seemed to be pretending with them didn't it?

Asher gritted his teeth. Continuously slashing back at his opponent. Desperately trying to get the higher ground. But his opponent was having none of it. One swift move and Asher was both disarmed and kicked to the ground. A spear to his throat, Asher could only feel his anger burning. He laid there, silently breathing, desperately wanting to cry. He was trained in shooting, he was well accustomed to fighting with a gun. Not a spear. It seemed awkward and heavy in his hands and the instructor seemed to know his every move before he would even do it. Asher was strong, he knew this, but this man, the instructor, seemed just so much stronger. He wasn't toned like Asher was but he was smart and Asher was growing so frustrated.

It was like his first years in the peacekeeper academy. Where he was a scrawny boy working to pay for his parents life. He would constantly lose, but Asher was determined, he couldn't let his family suffer. So he'd trained and trained until finally his dream of finally getting a job where he could fully support his parents and siblings was finally becoming a reality. He was strong and intimidating. But it was as if all of that means nothing, because this man continuously beat him as of all of Asher's training was irrelevant. Because if Asher couldn't survive these games his family was going to die. Asher wasn't letting that happen. He was confident in his abilities coming into these games, sure, he wasn't positive he could kill, it wasn't really necessary to win, right? He'd been certain that he could pull it off. But now he was doubting that too.

He wasn't sure if he could win. He really wasn't sure. If years of training meant nothing, then what did Asher even have. He had no social skills nor had he ever been good at reading others. Because all of his time had been spent inside that damn academy! Because he was trying to keep his family alive! Now all of those years where he poured his soul into keeping everyone safe and everyone happy, where he took of the position of responsibility because his parents wouldn't for nothing. Because if he couldn't win then it meant nothing.

His siblings were too young to do anything, and his parents wouldn't work. All that time where he could have been normal, where he could have learned something about the world he lived in. He spent trying to help his family, and if he didn't win that none of that would even matter. He didn't know how to socialize, that had always been Titus' job, because he had to work.

As Asher lay there he just wished that he wasn't so useless. His chest was burning and his sweat was pooling around his neck. Dripping down his chest and face. He struggled to get up, the instructor offering no help. He hastily and with effort pushed himself up onto his knees. He lay there, hunched over and panting, feeling so utterly useless. Everything he did was never good enough. His academy training wouldn't mean anything if he didn't actually graduate. His job meant nothing if it still didn't provide enough for his family to actually be healthy. He was just some mass of muscle, completely and utterly useless. He heaved once, twice, before using his hand to push himself up to his feet. He staggered once before regaining his balance and retaking the spear which was outstretched towards him by the instructor.

"Again." His request was straightforward and simple. Leaving no room for argument. He thought he saw the ghost of a smile on the man's face, a small, sad smile before he took his stance. Asher didn't care though, he was here to win, he had to. And so when he charged the man again he made sure to pour everything into it.

Thorn's head hurt. It was to early for this. Too much information. He hated this, all of this, he wished he'd never wished for anything exciting besides the life of his little store. He would have been perfectly content staying the same. Instead he was thrust into a world where he could die. Actually die. The concept of death had always been so incomprehensible to Thorn. He knew people died, yes. But he'd never had to face it. His family had remained neutral throughout the war, not once had he had to face the hardships of a civil war. Life had simply continued on.

He knew that eventually he would die, but Thorn was sixteen, those weren't what the average sixteen year old spent his weekends thinking about. And so he'd just accepted that he'd probably die from old age or some illness at the age of eighty. He had enough food to last him a lifetime and never once had money been a problem for him. But now the concept was glaring him in the face and it was taunting him. Telling him that it was right there, potentially just a week away and that scared him.

It was all so new to him, that this could be his last time interacting with humans ever. Finally death felt real to him, as if he could feel it. He sometimes found himself counting down the days until the games started. counting down just how many days he had left to live, really live. Not just survive, but live. Thorn's life had been completely flipped upside down and some real threat had been delivered to the boy. Finally something was at stake and Thorn hated it. It reminded him of during gym class in middle school, where he would never risk anything out of the fear he'd get hurt. He made sure his situation was always under control, that he knew exactly what he was facing. But now he was facing death and he so desperately wanted to back out like he had done as a child whenever risk presented itself, but he couldn't and he knew that he couldn't.

Trying to start a fire was useless and dull. He hated every second of it. The instructor was telling him that it was fine, he was doing good. But he knew he wasn't. After another failed attempt and another false encouragement later he put down the sticks in frustration. The instructor opened her mouth to speak, Thorn just cut her off. "It's fine, I probably won't need a fire anyways." He turned away and managed to get two steps before he turned around, "Thanks for the help though."

He continued on after that, he felt he at least owed the girl an apology. Standing now in the middle of the room, he felt close to somewhat of an idiot. Now what? What station next. Hmm, maybe he should have thought a little ahead on his plan instead of just leaving. His eyes skirted across the room before settling on the plant stain two tributes were seated at. The girl and boy from one, he was sure. They weren't talking so Thorn assumed it fine to go and join them, if they weren't directly interacting then his presence wouldn't be too much of a disruption right?

He didn't ponder the question any longer, simply went to join them. He took his time in analyzing them though. The boy's back was towards him, but the girl was turned on her side, therefore she herself was facing the boy. The instructor was holding up some sort of root, talking about it aS the girl listened intently and nodded occasionally. The boy next to her seemed to be taking notes. As if this were school, Thorn wanted to laugh at that, though he wouldn't want the unwanted attention that would warrant. He saw the instructor put down the root looking plant for another similar looking plant, Thorn sped up a little so he could arrive right on time for the new lessons to start.

He hastily mumbled a 'hello' before plobbong himself right next to the girl. The instructor glanced up at him, "Hello there." The boy looked up from his notes to stare at him, blue eyes seeming to analyze him, blonde hair messily combed on his head. The boy's conclusion seemed to brush Thorn off as unimportant or not worth his time as he looked back down at his book. Absentmindedly twirling his pencil.

The girl gave him a smile, "Hi, I'm Maya. The female tribute from District one." Thorn blushed a little because this girl was really pretty. Like really pretty, "I'm Thorn." His reply was short and brief, he was too flustered to manage anything else, he cursed himself silently because it had taken him just a little too long to respond. She gave him a little laugh, still smiling, and Thorn felt himself blush harder. She was also really nice apparently. "So Thorn, what District are you from?" Thorn opened his mouth to answer, but closed it when he heard the boy, Maya's District partner, snort loudly, but tried to conceal it with his book. Why he was laughing, Thorn didn't know, but he simply brushed it off, trying not to show his confusion. "I'm from District eleven."

She was still smiling. "Ignore Midas." Thorn could only assume that this was the name of her District partner. "Anyways, continue on, sir." She directed her attention back towards the instructor, who gave her a grateful smile before continuing on. He thought he heard Midas mumble something but he wasn't sure what, he decided to take Maya's advice and simply ignore him. Thorn didn't know why Maya put up with him.

Maya seemed so perfect, it was a little strange but Thorn couldn't keep himself from being just a little intrigued. He was like a princess straight out of the fairy tales his parents would read him as a child. She seemed nice but smart, Thorn couldn't help but want her as an ally. He thought that he could be useful too, he was a fast learner he was sure that something he could provide would be useful. She'd seemed nice towards him anyways so maybe it wasn't so bad of a idea.

They were supposed to be enemies but this girl was nice to him, she didn't seem To look down on him or brush him off as her District partner and so many others before had. She treated him with respect and that was exactly what he so wanted. Somehow she'd known exactly how to make him like her. She'd understood him so that she knew the exact words to say, the exact way to act. SHe was everything he wanted, someone to treat him like a person, not just the boy who worked at the grocery shop, or the weak District partner who cried on the train or just the average citizen. She's treated him as if he were something special. As if he were actually worth her attention. this goddess of a girl treated him as if she were his equal. That amazed Thorn. Exactly how to gain his trust and he felt himself handing it over. This girl seemed to know Thorn without him even saying anything, he was amazed.

He listened the man explain some things in depth. Kind brown eyes sparkling everytime Thorn asked a question, with a bit of sadness mixed in. Thorn didn't have to think too hard to imagine what this sadness was for.

He stayed there sitting, listening to what the man was saying. He turned towards Maya and Midas, it was supposed to be a quick glance. Instead he met crystal blue eyes, set in a clear expression of solemnity. It was a short quick shake of the head before he turned back towards his book, scribbling something down. Thorn could only turn back himself, left to wonder what exactly the shake of the head meant. He shrugged it off, it was just Midas. He could simply ignore him.

Asher's partner had been replaced with the girl from four. Who seemEd eager to show off. Asher could feel arrogance radiating off of her. Not in the way she spoke to him, or anything like jumping at the chance to showcase her abilities. No. She had simply walked over and asked if she could train a little too, perfectly innocent. It wasn't until she picked a spear, smiled at Asher and then started fighting that Asher could honestly feel her cockiness.

She was going easy on him, she was being purposefully reckless because she believed she would win even if she didn't take him seriously. That brushed Asher in such a wrong way that it wasn't even funny. He'd been training for hours now and this girl waltzes in a has the audacity to then go easy on him. She is wearing a smile that Asher wants so badly to wipe off her face. Never in his life had he been this confident, even when the match seems so poured in your favour do you go easy on your opponent. Because it's insulting to him, honestly.

This child thinks that Asher is someone who she can just brush off and that's insulting. Does any effort he put Into anything mean anything. Seemed as if anything he did someone was always there to top him. And then to rub it in that they were so much better. And it was so goddamn frustrating.

He parried her attack. Before countering with one of his own, she blocked it before feinting left and attacking right. Something which Asher hadn't seen coming. One fatal move later and once again Asher was found weapon less, his spear lay abandoned on the ground a few feet away. A metal tipped pressed very lightly against his chest. He was heaving and panting, a grimace on his face when he met the cocky smirk of the girl who's just beaten him.

"Nice try."

He didn't want to hear her stupid words of encouragement. Telling him that he did well and that it was a nice try. He didn't care because he didn't want her telling him those words after treating him as if he were inferior. Asher returned the smile because he would feel guilty if he didn't. Which was probably stupid, because in about a week he would be forced to potentially kill this girl. What was the point of being polite now. Asher could tell her to simply 'fuck off.' but that wasn't how Asher was. He was a passive spirit at heart. And although he may get intense sometimes he never really had it in him to act on his thoughts of malice. They just kind of sat there, useless just like the rest of him.

He took a deep breath before turning to the instructor. "I'm gonna go try something else. Thanks." Before walking off, not bothering to see the reaction of the girl or the instructor. He just wanted out. He wanted to get away from that girl and he wanted some space.

He vaguely noted the girl from nine on the agility course. Climbing and running and jumping with a practiced ease that he would admit to being just a little impressed of. She had such agility and flexibility, both things that Asher's own physique didn't allow him to properly have. He was big boned and muscled, she was skinny and quick. He watched as she managed to swing from bar to bar with ease and ability that was genuinely fascinating to watch. At least someone here wasn't a failure. He sighed, contemplating where to go next.

He noted a little boy at the medical station and decided to go there. He knew it'd probably be necessary if he ever got hurt In the arena. That fact that boy seemed to be the exact opposite of cocky only influenced his choice a little. Asher quickly made his way over, with long strides and the need to just get away from that girl still strong. He made his way to the table, taking a stand right next to boy. He had tanned skin and was currently biting his lip in concentration, as he attempted to disinfect a cut on his left elbow. How he got it Asher supposed was left up to speculation.

He barely seemed to noticed Asher as he reached out for the book let out by the trainers. He did notice however when Asher spoke. "Do you know what page you can find how to treat a broken bone?" The smaller boy jumped slightly at his voice, and Asher out of slight fear took a step back. "Sorry! I didn't mean to startle you. It's just that, um, I'd thought you'd notice me and-" He felt himself rambling off apologies towards the boy as he continued to regain his posture. Still seemingly shocked by Asher's interruption.

"No worries." The boy quickly cut offAsher's rant, with a slight blush on his face. "Also, there's a table of contents on page three." Asher nodded in thanks and the boy quickly went back to simply fixing up his cut. Not even trying to continue the conversation. Asher didn't mind so much, it was the boy's business to do whatever he wanted. Asher wasn't going to pry. Asher vaguely remembered the boy as the one from District eight, his name currently escaping him at the moment. Thread, he thinks it is. Yeah, he was the one Asher had thought had the weird District related name.

They worked in silence, not once bothering to exchange words. Asher found he really didn't mind this. This was good, this was fine. They were working, that was all that mattered. They weren't here to become friends. They were here to learn how to survive during the games. That should've their ultimate goal. Asher was not letting it escape him. His goal was to win. He couldn't afford to forget that. Forgetting it could mean death.

Asher breathed out and scratched the back of his neck, admiring his ownhandywork. At least he was better at this than at fighting with a spear. Tomorrow he'd try a different weapon. God, if only they allowed him to use a gun. This whole mess could have been avoided. Asher was trained in a gun, it was what he was good at. But apparently that wasn't allowed. What a pain. He supposed he could try the bow tomorrow,it was similar to a gun right? Sorta, maybe? If worse came to worse he could always just use his physical strength. He could try out some wrestling. He was sure to be okay at that.

He turned towards the boy next to him. "Thread, right?" At the mention of his name the boy looked up and nodded. "Um... I'm Asher." Internally he cursed himself for just how awkward he sounded. "Do you mind if I use that bandage?" He gestured vaguely towards the roll of white cloth the other boy wasn currently holding. Thread looked down at his hands, before nodding and handing it over. He seemed reserved and shy not even bothering to say anything else.

Asher turned back to his hands and continued working. Trying to ignore the twist in his gut telling him that in less than a week, he may have to kill this shy, shy boy.

Over the last hour or so Midas had come to the conclusion that Thorn was no different than anyone else. Thorn couldn't see through Maya's act that Midas felt was second nature to him. He'd fallen straight into the trap that Maya had so obviously set for him. Midas resisted the urge to roll his eyes as Thorn amicably spoke with Maya. What an idiot. Or, maybe he wasn't so incompetent. After all, it was Maya. The only person he'd ever seen even match Maya was himself. And Maya and Midas were special, two halves of a coin, they were different.

Midas watched the instructor pull out another plant. It was a strange green thing that Midas really had no interest in learning about. He cLeated his throat, drawing the attention of everyone in their makeshift little square. He stood up stretching out his arms and scratching at his head, ruffling his hair even further. "I'm done for the day. You two have fun, k?" He saw the briefest flash of a glare appear on Maya's facial features, eyes turning downwards and mouth into a slight grimace, before obviously it cleared. Midas doubted Thorn had caught any of it. It was only the subtlest of movements, but Midas knew Maya, therefore he caught it. He always caught it. And he was certain that she knew he'd caught it.

"I'll come with you. We are partners after all, correct? So where're we headed, Midas?" Maya swiftly stood up, not leaving any room for argument. Brushing off imaginary dust from her pants, before lacing her hands behind her back. An innocent smile gracing her features, Midas knew it was anything but. He saw the malice behind the smile, the venom in her eyes. He simply returned the smile.

"You suggested sword fighting, right? We could go there." It's a statement, this is where they are going. Out of the corner of his eye he sees Thorn watching the exchange, Midas hopes the boy isn't stupid enough to follow them. But of course Maya catches him watching Thorn, he thinks, no, he's sure she's about to ask the boy to join them, but she only smirks once at him before starting the trek towards the swords. Midas rolls his eyes, sticks his hands in his pockets and then follows after her.

She slows her pace so that he can catch up, an eyebrow raised in question. "Practice together?" He nods, it's fast and jerky, Midas internally curses himself for just how unrealistic it looks. If Maya catches it she doesn't let on, but If Midas knows her half as well as he thinks he does, then she most definitely caught this.

They reach the station soon enough. The instructor is there, he is sitting on the floor polishing a sword. He looks up once he sense their presence, gives them a smile. "Hey there. Pick up a sword and I'll start the lesson"

Midas goes towards the rack, he picks up one in the centre. It's a little too heavy but Midas doesn't think much of it. He watches Maya do the same, twisting it around with her hand before she smiles at the man. "There's no need, we're just going to spar a little." He seems reluctant, but melts at the smile and brightness Maya seem to radiate. Just another fool to fall for her, Midas supposes. It's such a pity, Maya knows exactly what she's doing. These guys don't stand a chance.

It reminds him of when they were still in school. Maya was a charmer, seemed everybody fell at her feet. But he knew that despite Maya leading all of them on, she didn't like even one of them. To Maya, people were ants, inferior to her. She was something akin to a goddess, they were just some lowly humans praying to her. Worshipping her. She manipulated them to keep liking her, yet all Midas could see was that she was playing all of them. He wondered how no one else could see it.

Why no one else was trying to stop it. When he expressed this to his friends they told him that they had no idea what he was talking about and he wanted to scream. To him, it was so obvious. It was fact. Like how the sky was blue or the grass green. But all anyone could see was this angel. Midas didn't understand it. He thinks he was the first to ever see through Maya's act, he thinks this is why she even bothers with him. Because to her, it'll be somuch more rewarding when he falls. Like how everyone around her does.

"Ready, Midas?" Her voice shocked him out of his thoughts. He smirked, blue eyes not betraying anything. "Sure." She gave him a smile. Not saying anything after, she simply raised her sword. He nodded.

They started to circle each other. Midas' face was blank, but Maya was smiling. Both were wearing a mask on their own right. Midas was thinking, sure he'd never had professional training with a sword. But when you're desperate enough to try, you learn quickly. He's picked up some techniques from the war. Things they didn't teach in schools. Street smarts. He was taught how to play dirty.

He was waiting for her to strike, but he knew that Maya was a lot more patient than he was. He lunged at her, sword attempting to slice through. He wasn't waiting for the games, if he could hurt her now then it was all the better. She seemed to catch on quickly, blocking before thrusting her sword herself. Midas dodged, throwing her slightly off balance, the force behind the thrust carrying her slightly off balance. This was their chance to vent, this was their chance to show the other exactly how far they were willing to go.

It was an endless attack of slicing and thrusting, dodging, blocking, and still not a single drop of blood had been spilled. He growled as he attacked again, this time feigning left before going right. She saw it coming though, didn't she always, and blocked it before going for her own. A clean slice, down his left arm, and it stung. He'd been off balance From his previous attack, she took his moment of weakness and turned it against him.

He saw the Crimson liquid as it trickled down his arm, slowly, it stung like hell and it hurt. He saw the instructor moving to get up but ignored him, he was not letting Maya win, not now not ever. He used Maya's moment of cockiness, where she was simply relishing it the victory she'd pulled against him. He went for her sword, she saw it coming, she moved to block. But Midas' already had his momentum. Using his sword as a distraction, aiming towards her left side, he used his free hand to grab her wrist and pull. Pull her down.

She resisted, but her energy had already been focused on his sword. She didn't have enough to pull herself back up as he kicked her back down. He stepped on her hand, forcing her to release the sword. She hissed and clutched her hand, now red and weapon less. She was angry, so angry she was letting it show. It wasn't just a matter of Midas beating her, it was him doing it in public. A sword to her throat, she sighed.

He smirked down at her, what he didn't catch was the ghost of a smile on her lips. She swept his legs out from under him, using legs he hadn't been worried about her using. His weapon flew from his hand, skirting off somewhere before disappearing, back arched as he hit the ground because it hurt and he was sure he'd bruise tomorrow. A foot was jammed into his stomach and he coughed, winded. It hurt and his arm was still bleeding. It'd stained the carpet red.

One foot was on his chest, the other on his legs, making sure he couldn't get up. "Well, Midas, looks like I've won." She realeased him from her hold. And he was angry, and she was right there. For once, Midas didn't think, he reached out and pulled.

Maya's neck was in his hands, he was holding her up. He was physically hurting her. But all she was doing was smiling, smiling as her head turned purple. Midas only squeezed harder. He vaguely felt hands on his back, pulling him away from Maya. He tried to kick them but there were too many. He realeased his hold just as he'd realized what he'd done.

Everyone's eyes were in him. And he realized that he regretted it. He was panting, his arms and legs held back but two of the trainers. He looked across from him, where Maya was being fussed over by the female nurse who's seemed to have just arrived. he could already see the bruises on her neck starting to form. She was smiling, smirking at him.

Because he hadn't thought, just acted. He'd shown everyone here something crucial that could be used against him. He'd lost so much more than a sword fight, he'd made his tributes and instructor turn against him. And it was all Maya's fault. She'd laid out the trap and for once he'd walked right into it. He willingly walked into one of Maya's traps. He saw the victory shining in her eyes. And panic and hatred started swimming through his veins. Everyone was looking at him with mixtures of disgust, some turning their head when he looked directly at them. They thought him a monster, and it was all Maya's fault.

All except one. Hollis, the boy from nine, gave him an approving nod before turning back to whatever it was he'd been doing. Midas was grateful at least someone could igh,he bet it was just the common factor that they were both rebels. In a world that favoured those of the opposing aliegience.

He made sure his face betrayed nothing. He must look sick, he must look sadistic, he must look like Maya. He realized, he must look like a monster. A blank face after almost killing her. He was only supposed to show Maya how far he was willing to go,mbut instead he's shown eveyone and it was something he regretted so freakin' much. And it was all Maya's fault.

"Get off of me." Midas said to the men holding him, he made sure his voice was still full of venom. Not wanting it to fall flat like the rest of him. The taller of the two shook his head. "Nope, sorry, rebel. We're bringing you back. That's enough training for you today, I'm sure you got in lots of experience." The mans eyes held no warmth or sadness that previous ones had. Midas really had become a monster in their eyes hadn't he. All pity he'd had is now gone. Now he was a monster for trying to hit a sweet innocent girl, right? He'd crossed the line, he'd touched the untouchable. These games started to feel more and more like home each second he spent in them. Ironic how it was always Maya, wasn't it? She was the one who'd ruined his life the first time, here she was dong it again.

They carried him out, but he could still feel Maya smiling that damn smile. He wanted to cut it off, destroy it. He hung his head, seething without letting them see. They always took her side. Always. He just wanted someone who could see her for what she was. So he wasn't alone in this fight. He always felt alone and he just wanted someon to understand. Midas shouldn't wish for impossible things, but it was still fun to hope, right? God. Today he'd been just as bad as any of Maya's followers. Any of the pining boys. Any of the adults or officials who fell for her mask of an angel. Midas had fallen.

At least he had in her eyes. Midas, was going to prove her wrong.

Thorn watched the boy be carried off, silently, he smirked to himself. Proved the bastard right. Thorn wanted to tell him 'I told you so'. Tell him off because this was what the guy had coming didn't he. You didn't mess with Maya, that part was obvious. For someone who came from the same district and seemed to actually know the unknowable, he didn't seem to know the unsaid rules before him. The rule that Maya, herself, was untouchable. Thorn was baffled by the boy's incompetence. Midas was a mystery, he didn't abide the status quo, he didn't abide by anything. Other than the fact that he was Midas.

Thorn had been changed and warped so many times over again because of what he believed society had set out for him. Had changed based on others images of right and wrong. Naturally he did what everyone else did. People said this made him a follower, Thorn said that this made him smart. Less likely to get killed right? But Midas, Midas didn't care about any of that. Thorn found it irritating, this boy was reckless. It was what would get him killed Thorn reasoned. It was what would get him killed.

At least now, the boy's true colours had been revealed. Thorn felt himself wanting more and more to know their story. But all he seemed to be abLe to focus on was Maya. She was like a magnet, he observed, she just seemed to draw people in. He wasn't sure if she was aware of it, but she did. Thorn found himself intrigued, found himself thinking that he wanted to understand her. A feat, seeming to belong solely to the very same boy who just seconds ago had seemed to forget the most basic rule. That Maya was above them. Thorn wondered if the rule had ever even applied to the boy, as it seemed to apply to everyone else.

Thorn couldn't help but wonder what their relationship truly was. What was Midas to Maya. What were they to each other. Thorn, upon meeting Maya, had established two very basic things. Maya was above him in every aspect imaginable and that she was untouchable. She was like a goddess, he mused. He couldn't bring himself to understand why Midas seemed to be treated as the exception. He was average, perfectly normal as far as Thorn could tel. Not particularly strong, or smart, or handsome and it irked Thorn. How Had someone so unremarkable be thought equal to someone like Maya, by Maya. Who in Thorn's eye, was someone who would look down on Thorn and Thorn would be ok with it.

Who was Midas, some average blond boy, to disrupt this. Who was he, in Maya's life to upset the balance. Thorn raged internally,because who was Midas. Why was he the exception when there were so many others better than himself. And why didn't Maya seem to protest this fact. She accepted it, as of Midas too were somewhat of an equal to her. Why did she accept it too? Why did anyone accept it. Thorn doubted anyone outside of himself cared, but Thorn did and that was enough. Because in his eyes, Midas was undeserving of everything thrown his way. Thorn was glad he'd be able to witness the fall from grace Midas so obviously had coming.

Oh how the mighty had fallen. A brief glance towards Maya and Thorn froze. She was smiling, a bitter, cold smile. Which made Thorn freeze, because was this really the same Maya he'd been talking to just moments prior. But he blinked once and it was gone. Leading Thorn to believe it had all been an illusion. Yep, there it was a small, sad girl, who was still trying to look strong. Thorn acknowledged all this with the passing of a smile. Despite his musing of the girl being some sort of goddess, she was still human after all. Which, Thorn thought, might be the only way Midas would ever view her. Pity, how the bottom would indulge themselves of such fantasies of false importance. Though, he supposed, it wasn't completely unjust, for the mighty encouraged it.

Thorn wished though, he truly did wish, to know of the relationship behind that of Maya and Midas. What were they to each other? And who even were they anyways?

Asher's watching of the scene in front of him was that of mild intrigue. He wondered why he had failed to see it before, the undeniable hate the boy from one had for his partner. The undeniable loathing he displayed for the girl. No matter, at least those were two tributes Asher didn't need to interact with at all. Less strong opponents. Those two would simply eliminate each other. Instead he could focus on staying in the little bubble that was his thoughts.

The boy from earlier, Thread, had long gone and left the table. Gone somewhere else, Asher hadn't asked the boy where he was going, he'd simply let the boy up and leave. To was none of Asher's business anyways. They were competitors, enemies. Asher didn't have time for such fantasies such as friends. All Asher wanted to do now was sleep. He was tired from the day of hard work. Hard learning. If he closed his eyes he could convince himself that he was back home, in bed, Titus was there too. In the cot next to him on the floor, he was snoring, Titus that is, while Asher tried in vain to sleep despite it.

Thread reminded him so much of home. The shy little boy Asher had once been before peacekeeper training. Before these stupid games. Asher felt homesick alone and vaguely unprepared for the real world after a lifetime in the academy. All Asher had ever wanted to do was go home, this time. Right here, there, right now, those desires hadn't changed. If anything they had only grown. From cocky sixteen year olds, to shy boys. Asher just wanted to go home.

Did it make him selfish for wanting to go home so badly he could kill, despite it going against all he had ever prided himself on. Was Asher such a bad person for letting his thoughts turn down a lane of darkness and despair when it really was the only option available. What else was he going to do. He couldn't live in constant fear of he wanted to save his family. He couldn't live like this if he wanted to live properly. Because this wasn't living it was imprisonnement. He was dead before the games even started of he refused to accept the reality that he would have to kill. He was a boy, but he was being forced to kill.

Long ago, Asher was sure this would have been shamed and rioted against. But now, everyone seemed excited for it, ready even. Asher felt more than a little disgusted. The people of the Capitol were waiting to see him butchered. They wanted to see him killed. Nothing personal, they just wanted a little bloodshed. Asher was a candidate for that blood spilled. He was merely a player in these games, he didn't really have any ground to stand on. Asher came to slightly detest the Capitol as the days went on, because what kind of lunatics wanted to children kill other children. Some of which had done absolutely nothing to deserve it. Some had even defended the very same people now trying to get them killed. They were all a bunch of sick bastards and Asher wanted to know just how messed up a person could be before it was considered too far. He wondered where the citizens of the Capitol feel on that line. Where he and the other tributes fell on that line.

Did they ever stop to think of anyone but themselves. Did they ever stop and think of people's families. People's friends. There's a term for it, Somewhere there is. A term for the realization that everyone around you leads as complicated and meddlesome lives as do you. That everyone goes through their own struggles. The random passerbys you walk by on the street are all living exactly as you are. Asher doesn't think the Capitol citizens realize this. This fact that the tributes are not just paper cut outs for them to observe and watch for their own sick amusement. They are people too, the tributes. So they should be treated as such.

It was the academy all over again. There, he was a soldier, nothing more. He was not meant to show emotion, he was the epitome of stoic. Soldiers were not meant to show mercy, nor pity. They were supposed to embody all that was justice. Justice did not show mercy nor compassion to those who had wronged it. Asher was treated as such. This was all but too familiar. All that would properly complete it was a gun and a white uniform. One that spoke measures despite it being so simple. Yet it was that certain simplicity that made it so intimidating. It was the fact that justice had to be simple. Had to be easy to comprehend. Laws were laws. No matter the circumstances, no matter the context, the law was the law. And if broken, justice would bestow punishment on the perpetrator. There was no room for debate, it was the first lesson drilled into them. The first of many that Asher would grow to never quite be able to understand. Because Asher was a boy of compassion who didn't understand other need to rid themselves of said emotion.

Asher was always different. He was never quite the stoic soldier he was supposed to be. So he was treated as less than human. This was simply that same treatment for a fact Asher once again, could not control.

When it came to Maya, everyone had some sort of God complex when regarding her. They treated her as if she were more than them. That was their first fault. Midas saw it all the time. Thorn wasn't the first, Lilith Teacup, their escort, wasn't the first, neither of them would be the last, of that he was certain. It was something even Midas wasn't sure where it'd began. Why the young girl had even picked it up. Why she'd truly started it. There must have been a time where she was just like all the rest, right? Where Maya Spencer was actually normal. There must have been a time when this statement was true.

When regarding Maya, everyone seemed to look at her with glasses that obscured their vision, left nothing but a blurry image which they interpreted as God. Midas knew of all this. Now, in his room, locked and alone, Midas' thoughts and vision was finally clear. He was fine to interpret everything as it came. And he was certain that Maya's first step here was Thorn. Because that was what everyone was to Maya, just another step. At one point, Midas bet that he himself was but another step for the self proclaimed goddess once upon a time as well. That was until he became so much more. Which was why Maya was so hellbent on killing him.

He didn't do what she wanted. He disrupted her control. If it was anything Maya treasured, it was her control. Control over others. Control over herself. As long as she was in control everything was fine. Midas debunked that control, threw it straight back into her face, and for a second, Maya slipped on the very step she was going to use to bring herself up. Instead, she fell down. Someone had taken their glasses off, and Maya had lost control.

So Midas was regarded as a threat. As a rival. Someone who had finally taken off the glasses. Maya was ready for the challenge, but here's the thing. Maya didn't enter competitions she knew she couldn't win. This game, this game he and Maya played. She'd had control over it the entire time. Because she understood humans, she was a god after all wasn't she, she had them all in the palm of her hand. It didn't matter if Midas, if faced one on one, could beat her fairly. Maya didn't play fair. She didn't leave things up to chance. Maya had to be in control. That was her role in life. A self proclaimed goddess. That was who Maya was. Who everyone perceived her as.

Everyone always focused on the GODDESS part, very few seemed to see the SELF PROCLAMIED part. Because to Midas, that was the important part. Despite what anyone might think, Maya was no Godess. She was a girl, she was a child. She was the same as Midas, or Thorn, or even Lilith Teacup. Everyone possessed the power to call themselves anything they so pleased. But hardly any acted on this power. Not Maya. She embraced it, and so she became a self proclaimed goddess. She was just a little girl fooling herself into thinking she was something bigger. And that was what Midas would always perceive her as.

Perhaps Maya viewed he himself in ways even he wasn't aware of. Maybe all this simple deducing and observing was meaningless. Maya loved control. He doubted she would so easily relinquish it. When someone had enough confidence in what they said, it became a sort of truth in of itself, correct? Midas thinks this is the main reason for why the name Maya Spencer hold such a firm grasp on others. The girl is so confident in what she says, perhaps even she no longer believes it to be a lie. That is her downfall. And Midas is determined to use it any way he can.

See, maybe he also viewed Maya as above him. But not the way everyone else did. They saw her on some sort of pedestal perhaps, up there in Olympus, surrounded by friends and followers. To them, she was God, she was looking down of them, but with a certain kindness, sympathy and understanding. Midas saw a vengeful dictator, being held up but lies and others. People, under her, holding her up so that she appeared taller than the rest. They're supporting her, without them she is just a girl spewing false bravado. Midas knows this. She's aloof because she believes herself superior. But she only sees herself this way because everyone else enforces it.

Thorn, Lilith, all the others. They claim to want to be free. But they are all still so desperate for orders. He'd seen it during the war, it was no different here. Rebels, soldiers, they all came over to the side of what most called freedom. But once over here, all they could say we're questions. Asking the higher ups what they should do. What orders they should take. The rebels were fighting for freedom, but no one seemed to truly want it. People came over to the winning side, or what they believed to be the winning side. Slap the word freedom on something and obviously people are going to flock to it. They enjoy the notion, the symbol that freedom is, but none of them truly want it. They just want what it stands for.

Maya understands this desire for someone to do everything for you. To not be counted guilty for your crimes. It was so much easier to just blame it all on the higher ups, wasn't it. Maya controls this desire, she manipulates it. Midas watches her do it. Maya offers false freedom, Midas offers real freedom. No rules, no Maya's telling them what to do. But none of them want that. They want Maya, bossing them around, telling them what to do. Midas understands this. Doesn't stop him from laughing at their stupidity. Or cursing Maya for her genius.