Another update~Enjoy!

Heavensbee Estate ~ Dawn

Her silver heels crunched the loose gravel as Gemini stepped from her hybrid. Swinging the door shut, she surveyed the Heavensbee mountain estate. Located just five miles from Capitol Checkpoint, it was the perfect escape from the city. She pressed her government pass into her coat pocket, the magic ticket that allowed her access in and out of any district in the country.

The golden sun was just now peeking above the eastern mountains, the long night shadows retreating from the daybreak. The purple mountain lilacs were also in full bloom, wreathing the circular driveway with their exuberant color and fragrant perfume.

A servant stepped towards her, offering to take any bags. "I didn't bring any bags with me today, Vance. I'll only be here a very short while."

The porter nodded, "Would you care for us to set up breakfast for you, Madam?"

Gemini smiled, "Thank you, but no. I just need to take a walk around the estate. The training starts today, and the fresh air will clear my head. Tell the staff that I won't be needing anything."

The porter bowed as Gemini strode past him. The Heavensbee servants were legendary for their faithfulness. Most had served the family since before the dark days, in fact the Heavensbees were the only Capitol elite to not employ Avoxes.

Gemini strode through the arched stone entrance to the family gardens. Trumpet vines clung to the stones, and Gemini smiled as the small flowers opened to the sun's first rays. However there was not spare time to dawdle. She continued walking, in search of her favorite plants, the bleeding hearts.

The man stood exactly as she had been told, back leaning against the stone wall.

"You enjoy the Lamprocapnos spectabilis?"

His brow furrowed, dark eyes studying her, "Excuse me?"

"Scientific name for the bleeding hearts." Gemini now stood directly in front of him, "Welcome to my estate."

He bit his lip, "My superiors told me you were young, but you hardly appear old enough to wear lipstick."

"And does anyone in your district even wear lipstick?"

"Touché.'" He tugged at his cuff links. "I am trained in espionage. While the rest of my people were forbidden to ever glance towards Capitol made products, I have spent my life mastering in all things Capitol."

Gemini shrugged, choosing to ignore the insults. It was clear from his dress and manners he had enjoyed studying "all things Capitol". "Why don't we walk about the grounds?" She began to take a step away.

He paused, catching her elbow, "But won't your staff talk?"

She shrugged off his touch, "Of course not. They are the picture of discretion. Anyway, they all think I am trying to become the next Head Gamemaker, and will simply assume you are piece in that plot."

The gravel crunched as they paced. "You don't even know my name."
Gemini chuckled, "Not necessary. Starting today you have a new identity, Malcolm Reverie."

"Malcolm Reverie." He spoke as though tasting the words. "Nice ring to it. Not so much if you add my military title, but then."

"Oh, shush." Gemini hated his district's pride. It wouldn't have hurt if the Capitol had truly destroyed them all. "I've spent months gathering the paperwork for you. It's a nearly impossible task."

"How so?"

"First, identity cards, national data cards. The data cards are kept sealed in the national registry. One copy for every civilian. Attempts at duplication failed. Three of our district people tried to enter the Capitol with duplicates."

A pause. Gemini took a breath.

"They just tried?" The man pressed.

"They died, Malcolm." Her tone was flat, and she avoided his eyes. "The Cards are never duplicated. Kept on computer record, checked at every entrance and exit, train station, hotel check in, everything, the ID's are scanned. The doubles were discovered, and three good people ended up dead. Because I didn't know the details of how the registry worked."

"And they didn't betray the organization? Surely they were tortured." His voice was laced with surprise.

Gemini felt her face heat, "Of course not. We are all committed to this cause, even to each of our deaths."
He shrugged, "It's taken long enough for you guys to start on it. I don't know how your districts have allowed these games to keep going for over a 100 years."

"Did they have to send you?" Gemini fought to control her anger, "Or did they accidentally pick the most stupid person I've ever met?"

He straightened, "Forgive me. Our district has never attempted to disguise our contempt for the rest of this country. I simply forgot that it would matter to you."

Gemini's eyes hardened, "We didn't meet to exchange opinions." She dug into her pocket, retrieving a thin cylinder. "Here is your identity. If you make it past security when entering the Captitol, and I do mean if, we'll meet at the tribute center café at this time next Friday?"

A dip of his head, as he took the precious item from her fingers, "My thanks, Madame Gamemaker."

District Four Compartment~ Breakfast

Bjorn chugged on the orange juice, not bothering to pour some into an actual glass. Blair glanced his direction, he could see her embarrassment for his table manners. "You think anyone cares how we eat?"

"You should care." Blair fidgeted with her napkin, "Even if no one saw me, I wouldn't want to be rude."

Bjorn shrugged as Annora and Ripley walked into the area. "Good morning," Ripley picked up a plate, "Hope you got your beauty sleep."

"Thank you, I'm sure I did." Bjorn ate a slice of sausage.

"Blair," Annora seated herself across from the girl, "Are you interested in joining the career alliance?"
"I'm not interested in her being on the team. And I know I'm in the career pack." Bjorn chuckled, "She's not trained, so isn't of much use to us."

"The guy from One talked to me, not you last night. I think Heath and the other's want me in the alliance." Blair gazed at Bjorn, daring him to contradict her.

"Sure, babe. As long as you step in the arena just wearing sea shells, then all the guys will want you."

"Enough," Annora set her glass down. "Bjorn, I didn't ask for your opinion. Next time you give it without my request, you will regret it."

"I'd listen to Annora, Kid." Ripley chuckled as he stirred his coffee. "She can be pretty mean."

"Blair, don't judge the alliance based on one guy. Today, get the feel of the other tributes, then tell me what you're thinking after training tonight."

Blair looked at her cinnamon rolls, "Can we see you at lunch?"

"Sorry," Annora smiled sympathetically, "I have a whole list of appointments and meetings. I won't be back until evening."

"What in the world are you doing? Partying all day?" Bjorn muttered.

"Excuse me?" Annora spoke as Ripley whistled low.

Bjorn shrugged, "That's what you guys do right? Rub shoulders all day with Capitol elite?"

Annora leaped, grabbing Bjorn's ear, "It's a good think Ripley's in charge of getting you sponsors," Annora whispered fiercely, while Bjorn struggled to free himself. "Because I'm not going to life a finger to help you."

District Three Compartment

Bernard crossed his arms, the girl was just too stubborn. "Leave the boy be. Go out there, show off your skills and develop your own strategy."

Ruby straightened her back, "My strategy involves Peltier. I don't abandon my district."

"You're not abandoning anything. You're simply giving your district the best chance it has at a victor." He placed a hand on the wall, "Trust me on this."

"You haven't brought home a tribute in 20 years, and you're asking me to trust you?" Ruby shook her head, "I'm sticking with my ally."

She stepped away, deciding to go check on Peltier. Bernard sighed, "I'm asking you to make a smart decision not just trust me."

She stopped, pulling at her blonde hair, "I'm really sorry if you think I'm making a bad choice. But I have to do what I feel is right."

Ruby walked down the hallway, carefully opening Peltier's door. "Hey, we need to head up to training soon." She looked over her shoulder, but Bernard wasn't following. It irked her that he refused to help her at all unless she followed his strategy.

The boy turned from his bedside table, nodding and giving her a crooked grin. Picking up a paper he handed it to her,
"Thanks for helping me. You are a very nice person."

Ruby smiled, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Don't worry, Peltier. I'm not going to leave you by yourself."
He nodded. She squeezed his shoulder, "Time for us to head down. We have a lot to learn."

Training Floor

Silk stepped into the training center, eagerly scanning the racks of weapons. The lights glittered off her favorite weapons. She took a step towards the racks of knifes and daggers, but a voice stopped her.
"Tributes are to remain on the welcome mats until orientation is complete."

A glance towards the voice. A woman with jet black hair, silver sharp eyes. "Who are you? Why are you bossing me around?"

A faint trace of a smile crossed the woman's stony features. "All tributes are expected to remain on the receiving mats until orientation."

A roll of her eyes, "And why should I do that?"
The woman lifted an eyebrow. "All tributes are to remain on the receiving mats until orientation is complete."

"I came down here twenty stinking minutes early so I can get a handle on what I have to work with." Silk tapped her foot, hand on her hip. "And I'm not going to waste my time." Another glance towards the woman. Still as stiff as a statue. Would she even move to stop her?

The door opened as some other tributes stepped in. The woman's attention was temporarily diverted, as she gave welcoming instructions. Silk stepped across the mat, striding towards the rack of knives.

The woman snapped her fingers at the peacekeepers. Silk was reaching for a knife when the peacekeepers fingers gripped her arms. She yanked, "What are you doing?"

But he didn't let go, and the woman spoke, a touch of weariness in her voice. "All tributes are to remain on the welcoming mats until orientation is concluded."

Tricolette and Nylon walked through the training room doors together. Over half of the tributes were already present, gathering in clusters around an athletic looking woman who stood at the front, not speaking to any of the tributes.

"Who is she?" Tricolette whispered to her partner.

"I don't know. I don't think I've seen her on tv or anything."

A tribute near them chuckled, "That my dear playmates, is the guardian of this world, Regina. Apparently she tells you clueless idiots what a sword is."

Tricolette was trembling, and Nylon laid a hand on her shoulder. "I appreciate that information. And who are you?" It felt rude not to ask.

The boy turned to face them, lips curling, "Why I'm your soon to be killer." Tricolette gasped, and Nylon's loose fist curled, but the boy continued. "The masses will remember my name as Heath General of District One."

"Nice to meet you." Nylon attempted to be as civil as possible.

Heath shrugged, "Nice of you to meet me. Not that I want to know your names. You'll both soon be dead anyway."

Nylon turned Tricolette away, leading her in the opposite direction, "Just ignore what he said. He's not a prophet."

She rubbed at her eyes, "But he's so sure of himself. What if he's right?"

Nylon had no idea what to say. He opened his lips, but no words came. Could the announcer lady start talking, save the moment please? He looked over at her, but she didn't indicate she was about to start. Behind her he could see the rows, racks, walls mounted with weapons. But what was that? His eyes squinted, it looked like paint.

"Look," He raised his hand, leading her eyes to a table. "It appears they have paint, you like to paint, right?"
Her eyebrows furrowed, lips puckering, "Why would they have paint?" She leaned towards the direction he pointed, "I think you're right. What do you think it's for?"
"Maybe camouflage?"

"But you don't use paint in the arena. You have to use wild berries and leaves. It's silly for them to teach camouflage with paint."

"Attention Tributes," The woman in the center spoke, and Nylon and Tricolette turned. "Welcome to the 101st Games Training. You will have three days to learn the basics of the arts of survival, and the skills of combat."
Several of the bigger tributes clapped when the woman said the word combat.

She held up a hand, "You should remember that survival skills are just as important, if not more vital than actual combat in the arena. 40% of you will die from exposure. It is wise to split your time equally among all the learning stations we offer."

She scanned the gathered teenagers, her eyes glinting, "This floor has rules which are expected to be obeyed. There is to be no fighting among the tributes. You are only allowed to train from Ten Hundred to Seventeen hundred hours. You will respect the equipment, trainers, and our observers. Any questions?"

A thin dark haired girl raised her hand, "When do we get to eat?" The girl from Two guffawed, "They're called the Hunger Games for a reason, shrimp.

The woman didn't even blink. "Food will be served from twelve hundred to Thirteen hundred. Any others?"

"Can we leave the floor?"

"Tributes are to remain in the training floor at all training hours, unless specific permission is given to leave. Anything else?"

Other than shuffling feet, the air was silent. The woman nodded, "Very well. You may begin your training. May the odds be ever in your favor."

Hadrian settled back into the studio chair. An artist was dusting Radiance's face, Annora had already been done. The woman stepped back, "There you go dear, all set for the cameras."

"Thank you both for coming on today, I know it's really early in the morning."

Annora chuckled, "If it weren't with you, it would be with someone else. And honestly, you are the one personality I actually like."

Hadrian swallowed, "That means a lot to me, it really does. And Radiance, you don't have to do this interview if you don't want to."

The girl forced a smile, "You're too kind. I'll try to be the proper mentor for you."

"Is this airing line?"

"Sorry, Annora. Augustus insisted." Hadrian fidgeted with his watch, wishing he could fast forward and get this over with. "I hate live just as much as any of you."

"But the big boss loves the exciting stuff that you can't edit, huh?" Annora sighed. "Rad and I will do our best."

"Did you write the questions?" Radiance pressed.

He licked his lips, "Well, I thought, I mean, I was, but then, and you know."

"They handed you a list of questions." Annora's voice was flat.

He nodded, miserable. Annora knew she could press him. "Just don't ask them."

"What?"

"Everyone loves you, you're not getting fired. Ask what you know the country needs to hear."
"Live in 15."

"15 seconds." Hadrian swiped at his brow. The notepad with Augustus typed questions quivered in his hand. He could feel his heartbeat in his throat.

"Live in 5, 4,3,2,1. And we're on."

Music rang in his ears. "Good morning, Panem." He worked at his muscles, forcing a smile. "I'm sure you all are interested on what the mentors have to say about this year's games."
The paper said "this year's tributes". He had already deviated. He smiled, "Today we have put together some questions, I'm sure that we have all wondered from time to time."

Not at all what the notes instricted. "We have an exclusive opportunity to chat with Annora, mentor for District Four and Radiance, mentor for District One."

He looked their way, their eyes meeting. They trusted him.

"Radiance, your district has a volunteer this year. Did you by chance grow up with her, know her before your own games?"

Radiance knew this was not a pre-approved question. "Why, yes. I do know Silk. I considered her my best friend."

"You considered her a best friend, something changed after your victory?"
"It affected our relationship. I didn't want to see her go through what happened to me."

Hadrian saw the pain of last year's games reflected in her eyes. "That makes sense. You advised her not to volunteer?"
"I did." Radiance pulled at the hem of her sleeve, "I just hope she doesn't end up regretting her decision."

"For your sake, and hers, I hope so as well."

In the back, Hadrian's assistant knew something had gone wrong. "What is he doing?" The audio technician glanced his way, "Problem sir?"

He nodded, rubbing his chin, "This is messed up, why is asking this junk?" Where was Augustus. Something needed to be done.
He turned, opening the studio door. He stomped to Flickerman's door, swinging it open. "Augustus, what kind of questions did you give Hadrian?"

Flickerman glanced up from his breakfast, surprise etched on his features, "Standard stuff. What kind of arena are they hoping for, what year to year differences they expect: that sort of thing."

"That's not what's going on. He is off, way off."
Augustus face paled, "I need to be in there?"
The assistant shrugged, "I think you definitely need to see."

"It must be easier mentoring kids after helping them train in your district?" The question was directed to Annora.

She laughed, a humorless sound. "Absolutely not. I'm training them, but I know most of the time it doesn't end up doing any good."
"Surely, it's somewhat helpful. They know how to fight and defend themselves, leaving them better prepared for the games."

"No," Annora rolled her eyes, "Nothing really prepares you for the Games. In fact, most of the time the kids are too confident and they don't even think they need our help when we go to mentor them."

"You're suggesting not to have training?"

"Yes, I know it seems harsh. But we don't want to give our kids a false hope. And from my experience that's exactly what the training centers are."

What was Hadrian thinking? Augustus needed to pull the plug. He grabbed the visual technician, "Go to commercial break, NOW."

The man nodded, speaking in Hadrian's earpiece. "Commercial break in, 10,9,8."

"Some great answers today. A short break coming up, but we'll be back right after this."

The lights dimmed as the commercials came on. Augustus began to step behind the camera, turning to yell at the manager, "Make that the longest commercial break in history!"

"What are you doing? Where are my questions? Are you insane?!"
Hadrian swallowed, "They get asked every year, I thought the audience deserved something better."

"You thought, bananas," Augustus rubbed his face, "Hadrian that was just dangerous. Look, I will take the fall. Any, questions, I wrote them. I'm sending a message to PR right off. It'll be better coming from me."

"But," Hadrian started, before Augustus raised a hand.

"Don't, just don't. At the end of this break patch it up." He sighed, facing the mentors, "I'm sorry, but there was some issues. Broadcast should go smoothly after this."

Favorite scene and why?

What's one question that you have, you would like me to resolve/answer in the next chapter.

Is staying up till midnight new year's eve a waste of time?