Disclaimer: The Hunger Games is not mine.

Note: First of all, results of the bloodbath poll are up on the blog. Thank you to everyone who voted.

Second, there's a new poll up on my profile, this time asking which tribute(s) you would sponsor. This poll is a bit different from my other polls in that it actually does have a (little) effect on the Games. The top few tributes in the poll will, at some point during the Games, receive a sponsor gift. (If they happen to be killed in the bloodbath, that gift would then pass to an ally or a district partner.) You can use whatever criteria you want to determine the tribute(s) you pick; this is all about who you would sponsor. This poll will be up until the end of the interviews, so if you want to wait and see how the tributes fare there, feel free to do so.

Lastly, a shout-out to BamItsTyler, who has an open SYOT. Check it out, and send some tributes his way!

Private Sessions
The Big Picture

Tamika Ward
Head Gamemaker

"There has to be a better way to do this."

Tamika paced back and forth as her fellow Gamemakers prepared the room for the tributes' private sessions. Forty-six tributes. Fifteen minutes each – plus time to clean up a bit between each tribute's session. At best, they would be done in a little under twelve hours.

"There has to be a better way," Tamika repeated.

Her assistant, Leander, rolled his eyes fondly. "That's exactly what you said last year. And the year before. And—"

"Last year, we had a regular number of tributes," Tamika pointed out. "We have nearly twice as many this year. It'll take twice as long."

Leander shrugged helplessly. "This is how it's done."

"Why?"

Leander looked up, surprised. "What?"

"Why? Did the first Gamemakers just sit down and say, 'You know what we really need to do? Even though we've been watching all these tributes for the past three days, let's give them some time to bore us to death individually'? Why?"

"Sometimes a tribute has a skill they don't want the others to see—"

"Why? If they're trying not to be noticed by the other tributes, why would they show us now? If they get a high score, the other tributes will know they're hiding something. They just won't know what."

Leander shrugged. "All right. It's stupid. It's outdated. What do you want to do about it?"

Tamika hesitated. She knew what she wanted to do. What she might have done last year, or the year before, if she hadn't been so worried that President Snow might call for her head.

But she didn't work for President Snow anymore.

"Call President Grisom. Ask him if—" Tamika began, but then shook her head. You don't need to justify yourself to me. "No. Don't." She turned to Leander.

"Here's what I want to do."

Inviticus Cassiano, 18
District One

The room was empty.

Inviticus glanced around the room, confused, as both he and Jaime were led inside. These were supposed to be private sessions. He was supposed to do this alone. And the Gamemakers … Where were they? Inviticus turned around to ask the two guards who had led them in, but they walked out before he could, closing the door behind them.

The room was bare, except the mats that covered the floor, and a pile of wood in one corner. Jaime shrugged and headed for the pile. Inviticus followed, unsure. Maybe they should wait for instructions…

But none came. Jaime motioned Inviticus over and tossed him a wooden staff. "I guess it's just us, then." And she swung.

The first blow caught Inviticus off-guard, striking his hand. Pain erupted in his wrist as Jaime struck again. The third time, however, he blocked the blow. And the next. Soon, the two of them fell into a rhythm – Jaime striking, him blocking. Jaime drove him to the other end of the room, but Inviticus didn't really care. Surely this was practice. Eventually, the Gamemakers would show up, and their session would really start.

But, after what must have been at least fifteen minutes – probably more – no one had come. Jaime shrugged and placed her staff back in the pile. "Maybe we can just go." With that, she headed out the door. Inviticus followed, still baffled.

Where were the Gamemakers?

Naella Sareen, 18
District Two

She let him take the lead.

Naella followed Septimus over to the pile in the corner, watching silently as he chose a long staff. She chose a slightly smaller, lighter one – not as much reach, but more control. Naella nodded, and Septimus charged.

He was good – better than she'd thought to give him credit for. He wasted no energy; every blow he struck was carefully planned, aimed at a specific target that would have been fatal with a real sword, had she not managed to block it. He was fast. Precise. Determined. Perhaps the Career pack had made a mistake in rejecting him immediately.

But she had the benefit of training. Real training, not just theory. His footwork, his precision, his accuracy – it was all by the book. He was still calculating. Still thinking through every move. But she could feel it – the intuition, the instinct, that only years of fighting could supply.

After a few minutes, she started to attack, instead. She swung faster. Harder. Septimus managed to block each blow, but he was finally sweating. Breathing heavily. Physically, she was more capable. Mentally…

As she maneuvered past the pile of supplies, Naella scooped up a piece of wood and heaved it at Septimus' head. Startled, he moved to dodge it, but, even as he did, she struck a blow to the back of his legs, knocking him to the floor. Immediately, she turned and headed out the door before he could retaliate or ask for a rematch.

He would get his chance soon enough.

Aleron Blanchet, 15
District Three

"Where are the Gamemakers?"

Aleron looked around, confused, as he, Evander, Horatio, and India were all led into the same room. No Gamemakers. No supplies, except for a pile of wood in the corner. What were they supposed to do?

Evander shrugged and headed for the pile of supplies. "I guess we're supposed to use these." He tossed a short, sword-sized staff of wood to each of them. Aleron turned the staff over in his hand. It felt heavy. Strange. It didn't feel like a weapon at all.

Not that he'd been practicing much with the weapons. He'd spent most of his training time around the survival stations, and, from what he could tell, Evander and Horatio had, as well. India, on the other hand, tossed the staff from one hand to another a few times. "All right, then," she decided. "Who's up first?"

Evander glanced at Aleron and Horatio, but neither of them seemed eager to take on their older district partner. "Me, I guess," Evander volunteered, and India charged. Evander dodged the first blow, then blocked the second. Before long, India had driven him to the other side of the room.

Horatio turned to Aleron. "I guess it's you and me, then." He held his staff up defensively. "Go ahead."

Aleron did. He swung as hard as he could. Horatio blocked the blow, but the effort sent him stumbling backwards. He recovered quickly, though, and struck Aleron's staff as hard as he could. Aleron nearly dropped his weapon, but managed to hold on and strike again.

Maybe this wasn't so hard, after all.

Imalia Grenier, 17
District Four

It wasn't such a bad idea.

Imalia quickly tuned out Kendall's grumbling about the six of them being evaluated together, along with Auster's confused questions about where the Gamemakers were and what they were supposed to do. Obviously there was a camera somewhere. Obviously the Gamemakers were still watching.

So they would notice. They would notice that she and Jarlan were the first to head for the pile of supplies, the first to arm themselves, the first to begin sparring. The others quickly took a hint, pairing off – Kendall with Auster, Brevin with Mavina. An oversized stick was no one's weapon of choice, but, since her alliance had all but agreed to abandon the cornucopia at the start of the Games, they would have to make do with what they could find. So they might as well start now.

The three pairs quickly spread out throughout the room. Auster and Kendall swung hardest, fastest, most aggressively. Mavina and Brevin were almost smiling as they parried back and forth, trading and blocking blows with ease, neither truly challenging the other's defenses. Meanwhile, Imalia and Jarlan traded blows, each struggling at times to keep the other at bay.

Mavina and Brevin left first, content that their fifteen minutes had passed. A few minutes later, Auster and Kendall did the same, satisfied with their efforts. Imalia glanced up at Jarlan as they drove each other back and forth. Jarlan shrugged a little, a smile playing on his face.

"They haven't dismissed us yet."

Liana Kinney, 18
District Five

It was almost an hour before District Four was finished.

Liana shook her head as Jarlan and Imalia finally emerged from the room, covered in sweat but grinning heartily. Zach nodded politely at his allies, but Liana could tell that even he was growing impatient. What had they been doing in there?

As she and Zach were led into the room, Liana could see that there wasn't much to do. A pile of supplies in one corner seemed to consist mostly of different-sized staffs. Zach chose one, and Liana quickly selected another.

Liana struck first, but Zach was ready. He was ready for the second blow, as well. And the third. Liana swung harder, but he blocked each blow quickly. Expertly. Almost effortlessly.

Liana swung harder, venting years' worth of frustration. Training had always seemed to come easily to everyone. Everyone but her. Training sessions that left her winded seemed to cause everyone else no more than a sweat.

Liana gritted her teeth. They could have their training sessions. The Games – those were hers. Maybe Zach was showing her up now, but in the Games, with a sword in her hand, she had something he didn't: determination. He wasn't a killer. She'd seen it ever since he'd hesitated at the reaping. He was soft. Physically, he might have the edge on her. Maybe he even had a better alliance. But she had a determination he could never match.

She was a killer.

Alexi Merista, 16
District Six

He wasn't a killer.

Alexi settled down next to the pile of wood with Nadine while Paget and Cordelia teamed up to take on Delvin, who had been the first to grab a staff. Presley watched for a moment before joining in, striking at whoever seemed the most vulnerable at the moment. Nadine glanced up from the small fire she was making long enough to observe her district partners. "You trust them – your allies?" she asked quietly.

Alexi looked away. She wasn't asking anything he hadn't asked himself several times over the last few days. But hearing it from someone else made it different, somehow. More real. "I don't know," he said quietly, surprised he was admitting it to himself, let alone to Nadine. "But it's too late now, I suppose, to choose anything else."

Nadine kept her voice low as she replied. "If you want, I could … I could ask my allies if it would be okay if you … joined us."

Alexi couldn't help staring. "Why?" he asked at last. "Why would you want to help me?"

Nadine shrugged. "Why not? The more, the merrier."

But there was something in her voice. Something more. If Alexi left Paget's alliance, too, then she wouldn't be the only one. Delvin had never agreed to an alliance in the first place, but Nadine – she had left. Which meant that Paget might target her out of spite. But if he left, too…

"Thank you," he said at last. "But no."

He had made his choice.

Fallon Ladris, 15
District Seven

She had made her choice.

Fallon sat down with Ciere as Audra and Domingo began a rather lopsided battle with a pair of staffs. Audra was older, stronger, and had clearly been practicing with some sort of weapon. She managed to knock Domingo over at least three times, but, each time, the younger boy got up, ready to fight again.

Fallon, on the other hand, was concentrating on trying to make a fire. But it was always so much easier with the trainer watching. Correcting her. Keeping her on task. Or Elizabet. Elizabet could help her focus. But Ciere … well, Ciere wasn't really trying. She was using one piece of wood to whittle away at another, but Elizabet couldn't really tell what she was trying to make.

By the fourth time Audra had knocked Domingo over, however, Ciere was ready, and charged into the fight with the staff she had sharpened into a spear. Domingo saw her coming and quickly sidestepped, but she managed to catch Audra off-guard and gave her a light poke in the side with the pointy end of the spear. Audra turned, startled, and whacked Ciere with her staff before she even realized what she was doing.

Ciere toppled over, her nose bleeding. Immediately, Audra began to apologize, and Ciere assured her it was nothing. Fallon turned back to her fire. They were both so polite and apologetic today, but, once the Games began, those blows would be real.

They wouldn't get to apologize.

Louis Soren, 14
District Eight

This was even better than what he'd planned to do.

Louis sat quietly in the corner with a pile of wood, pretending to be rubbing them together to make a fire. He'd planned to do something of the sort, anyway: show a few survival skills, get a fairly low score – nothing that would make him a threat.

Now he could do the same thing while observing five other tributes.

He hadn't paid much attention to his district partners during training. Most of his effort had been focused on trying to learn as much about the other tributes as possible. He had spoken mostly to the younger ones, asking seemingly harmless questions about their older, stronger district partners.

And what he'd learned was valuable.

Anyone could see which alliances had formed, but he could tell which ones would stand, and which ones were ready to crumble in on themselves. Adelia's alliance, for example, was solid. Even now, she and Jediah fought as a pair, taking on Ivira and Gadget. Ivira and Adelia were fairly evenly matched – neither making much headway – as were Gadget and Jediah.

But where Adelia and Jediah were working as a team, Ivira and Gadget moved separately, each attacking a single target. Ivira's alliance was the same … All it would take was a push. A little push. The other boy and girl were already tiring of Gadget's constant yammering. How long would it be before they decided they didn't need her anymore?

And District Six – there were some interesting things going on there. And, of course, there were the three Career alliances – or, at least, three alliances pretending to be Careers. The smaller one was solid, but there was already tension between District One's tributes in the other. A little stress, and it would surface. The third alliance was being held together by the boy from Two. If anything happened to him…

Louis turned back to his wood pile, frustrated. He had so much information … but what was he supposed to do with it? He was in no position to give any of the alliances the push they would need in order to crumble. He had no influence at all, not even with his district partners. Aside from Baylor, they had been ignoring him.

But Baylor – even now, he was watching Louis, between efforts to join a fight he wasn't welcome in. Every so often, he jumped in to strike a blow here or there, but nothing substantial. Nothing that would earn him any sort of attention.

Maybe they were playing the same game, after all.

Thane Hayer, 17
District Nine

He had no idea what he was doing.

Thane clenched a staff tightly in his hand. Even if he and Sariya didn't have any particular fighting skills, they could at least make it look like they did. Without a word, Thane tossed Sariya a matching staff, then proceeded to arm Melody and Myrah, as well. Immediately, he turned to attack the younger girl.

Myrah gave a small yelp before raising her own staff to defend herself. Sariya followed Thane's lead and immediately moved to strike Melody, who was barely able to shield herself. "Wait!" Melody insisted.

But they didn't. They couldn't. They couldn't afford to. If they fought each other, it would be obvious to the Gamemakers that they had no idea what they were doing. But if they were able to overpower Melody and Myrah…

It still wouldn't work. The Gamemakers weren't idiots. But maybe they would get points for ruthlessness. For being willing to fight dirty. For being able to pick their battles, even if it was unfair.

And that was just as good. Once they were in the Games, it wouldn't matter whether their opponents were eighteen or twelve. They all had to die. Why did it matter if they died in a fight that was completely unfair?

Thane gave Myrah another whack with his staff. Mere days from now, they could be fighting this same battle for real. And he wouldn't be able to hold back then. So he wouldn't hold back now.

Within minutes, both of the younger girls lay on the floor, uninjured but quite winded, their arms raised in a sign of surrender. Thane nodded, satisfied, and followed Sariya out of the room.

That would do for now.

Indira Serren, 18
District Ten

What did they think they were doing?

Indira cocked an eyebrow as Calantha and Elizabet both plopped down next to the pile of wood and began building. What were they thinking? Were they trying to get a low score? Did they just not care enough?

Indira tossed Beckett a staff, then chose one of her own. Within seconds, the two of them were fighting, just like during training – except this time, they were fighting each other. This time, instead of covering up Beckett's weak spots, she had to take advantage of them. Every time he dropped his arm, every time he missed a step – every time, she was there.

But he was there, too. Counting her missteps. Slipping through her defenses. Indira cursed quietly as she tripped over her own feet, barely managing to scramble out of the way in time to dodge one of Beckett's blows. They'd spent so much time learning how to fight as a team, maybe they'd forgotten that they might eventually have to fight each other.

The thought filled her with dread, even as she struck another blow. In only a matter of days – weeks, at the most – this fight could be real. One of them would have to die, eventually, if the other one was going to make it out. Beckett. Shale. If she was going to make it home, both of her allies would have to die.

But not yet. For now, they were holding only staffs, their worst blows causing slight bruises and damaged pride. After what felt like much more than fifteen minutes, the pair finally laid their weapons aside. Elizabet had managed to construct a passable shelter with the remaining wood, while Calantha had made a smile fire. Both were reasonable accomplishments, to be sure.

But neither would keep them alive for long.

Shale Avenheim, 18
District Eleven

He wished he had someone else to fight.

Shale clenched his teeth as he knocked Pan's legs out from under him … again. This wasn't helping any of them. He had soundly defeated his younger district partners at least three separate times now. But what did that prove? Even Elani, the oldest of them, was a good four years younger than him and more than a head shorter. It wasn't a fair fight. It wasn't a fair test of his abilities, and it was even less fair to them.

But the Games wouldn't be fair, either.

Eventually, he would have to fight. He would have to fight older tributes and younger tributes alike. He would have to fight both Careers and outer-district tributes. He couldn't limit his opponents to those he deemed would give him a "fair fight." The point of the Games wasn't to fight fair.

The point was to get out alive.

One by one, his younger opponents peeled away from the fight, heading over to the stack of supplies to work at starting a fire. Shale nodded and left them to it. If fighting off his three district partners hadn't impressed the Gamemakers, then lighting a stack of wood on fire certainly wasn't going to. Making a fire was useful, to be sure, but, in the end, the Games didn't go to the tribute who could make the best home-cooked meal.

They went to the best fighter.

Barry Zephir, 15
District Twelve

They were fairly evenly matched.

Barry shook his head as he dodged another of Eleanor's blows. In this case, 'fairly evenly matched' unfortunately meant 'equally inept.' They were both making a fine show of dodging each other's blows, but that wasn't exactly going to impress the Gamemakers.

But what else were they supposed to do? He didn't want to fight too hard. They didn't want to risk injuring each other – even a little. Not so soon before the Games. Not when it could cost them their lives later.

So they soon discarded the staffs, opting for building a shelter and then a fire out of the wood provided. Soon, their fire was burning brightly. Eleanor gestured to the rest of the wood. "Do you think we should…?"

Barry shrugged. "Why not? We're the last ones." With that, the two of them piled the rest of the wood on the fire. For a while, they simply sat there, watching until the fire had burned itself out, grateful that the Gamemakers had coated the mats with something that wasn't going to catch on fire.

They really had thought of everything.

Tamika Ward
Head Gamemaker

"That was certainly efficient."

Tamika glanced up from the monitor as Silas entered. District Twelve had just finished their session, wrapping the day up in less than half the time the tributes would have taken if she had given them each an individual session. Tamika nodded. "Very efficient. I take it you … don't disapprove." Silas certainly didn't sound upset.

The president simply shrugged. "You and I both know training scores only exist to give the audience a place to start betting – and to stir up a little drama by telling tributes who to target first. It doesn't particularly matter to me how you reach those scores."

Tamika nodded. "Is there anyone in particular you would … like them to target?"

Silas shook his head. "Harakuise is satisfied that Septimus is no rebel – and if he's satisfied, then I'm satisfied. Jediah and Shale have shown no sign of being anything other than concerned, protective brothers. If there's no one else…"

"Sir, there have been … rumors … about certain circumstances regarding a few of the tributes from Six. The girl, Presley – she burned down an orphanage? Killed several of her teachers?"

Silas waved his hand dismissively. "She lashed out at people who had hurt her. She may be a threat to anyone who abuses her, but not to the Capitol. Anyone else?"

"The twins – Paget and Cordelia."

"What about them?"

"The people in the district claim they're witches. That their mother drained the life from an innocent man who was found later, bloodless, with no sign of an injury. They say the girl set fire to the district square using nothing but magic. They say they can—"

Silas held up a hand. "Do we have a reason to believe any of it is true?"

"Sir?"

"Do you believe they're witches who can kill people with a thought?"

"Of course not."

"Then we don't have a problem." He shrugged. "People have spread rumors about Balthasar for years. And yet here he is, back in the Capitol, mentoring, and nothing has gone wrong. Rumors are just that, Tamika. Words are wind. We'll hear our fair share of chatter before these Games are over, that's for sure. But as long as they've said nothing against the Capitol…"

"Not that I know of."

"Then we're good to go. Do your job, and let the Games tend to themselves."

Tamika nodded as Silas left, leaving her to her next job: assigning numbers. Numbers that people thought meant so much. Numbers that would determine which tributes would get sponsors' attention. But only in the beginning. Only until the Games began and the tributes' actions began to speak for themselves.

Numbers that, in the end, would mean nothing at all.

"You're just not looking at the big picture, Doc."