So yeah...hi! Skipping on to training.
KATNISS P.O.V
The people that draw my eyes the moment Peeta and I step into the training room are the people Haymitch demanded we become allies with.
Clary and Jace are nearest the door. Jace is hurling small, sharp knives at targets, while Clary is demolishing a punching bag. Both have strange black marks on their skin.
Well. No point being shy.
Peeta seems to get what I'm doing when I head over to join Clary on the bags, and goes to have a shot at the knives with Jace and several others.
"I'm Katniss," I say.
Clary looks up. She's very pretty, with delicate facial features and those thick eyebrows and deep eyes. "I'm Clary, District 2," she says, panting slightly. "I'm not very good at this."
I throw a half-hearted kick at the bag. "Neither am I."
"Archery's your thing, right?" Clary says.
"Sorry?"
"I watched the Games last year, like everyone else in this goddamn place," Clary says. "You're great with a bow."
I'm flattered, despite myself. "Thank you. You're a good fighter, too."
"Don't try and suck up," Clary declares. She makes her way over to the camouflage station instead, and I follow. "I'm better with a brush than with my fists."
There are two other people at the sation - the tributes from 3. Thomas and Teresa. They barely look up as we join them.
"I'm Katniss," I say. "And this is Clary."
"I'm Teresa, this is Thomas," the girl says, not looking up, feverishly sketching.
"Um...what are you - " Clary begins.
"Making maps of possible arenas," Thomas says, finally looking up. He's slightly flushed, absorbed in his work. "Both of our arenas were giant mazes."
"Oh, I remember!" I say. "Six years ago for you, five for Teresa. Must have been the only time when two consecutive arenas were similar."
"Mmm," he says, looking back down. I take a peek. He's good. Very good. His drawing must match his running speed, because his hand is flying over the paper.
"You guys do know it's impossible to predict arenas, right?" Clary says.
"Doesn't hurt to try," Teresa replies absent-mindedly. "Besides, Minho thought we'd be getting a small arena this year. Something about wanting the Games to go fast and furious."
"Who's Minho?" I ask.
"Friend back in 3," Thomas says.
"Allies?" Teresa says unexpectedly.
We shake on it, and after a moment, Thomas and Clary do as well.
"I'll convince Jace," Clary says.
"Speak of the devil," says Thomas.
We all glance round. Peeta and Jace are making their way over to us, talking and smiling. They seem to be getting on.
"Clary, I found a - "
" - ally, yes," Clary interrupts her district partner. "I did too. Three, in fact."
Jace looks interested. "12 and 3? I watched you last year, 12. Good aim."
"Thank you."
"And 3," he says, turning to the geniuses. "Clever and fast. I like your choices, Clary."
"C'mon," Clary says, dragging him off. "Let's try treadmills."
Thomas and Teresa look busy, so both me and Peeta wave goodbye and head over to the punching bags again. This time, Four is there.
"Come to make allies, huh?" he says, before we can say anything. His voice is deep.
"Yes," I say bluntly.
"I accept," he says. "Can't be messing around in these Games."
"Where's your girlfriend?" I ask.
"My wife," he corrects. "Tris is with the knives. I'm joining her in a sec."
We take part in the punching bags with him, then head over to the knives. Tris is throwing blade after blade with accuracy that's almost frightening.
"Found us a pack, Tobias?" she says, without turning round.
"Of a sort," he replies, picking up a bundle of knives of his own.
It's then that I notice their tattoos. Four's is creeping up hs neck, obscured by his t-shirt, but Tris' is on full display - a set of five ravens, flying over her collarbone in an almost necklace-like form.
"What are the birds for?" I ask before I can stop myself.
Tris puts down the knives and turns. She's not especially beautiful, but she makes you take notice.
"My dad," she says, pointing at each of the ravens in turn, "my mom, my brother, Tobias, and my son."
"James," I nod.
"Yes," she says, her eyes hardening.
"Allies?"
"Allies."
We meet the Pevensies next. The archery and sword stations are close, so they're not far away from each other. Susan is shooting arrow after arrow at the targets, while Peter is attacking a dummy.
It doesn't take long to convince them. They're surprisingly gentle and kind, and we learn the nicknames they got from the Capitol after they won - Susan the Gentle and Peter the Brave.
Annabeth and Percy take a little longer. They're fighting with bamboo poles on one of the mats - they look experienced and exposed to the weather, both with deep tans.
"You want something, 12?" Annabeth calls over, blocking a strike from Percy.
"Yes," I say.
It takes two seconds, and Percy has Annabeth pinned down with his bamboo balancing on her throat.
"Do you yield?" he says.
"I yield," she gurgles.
He stands up, and offers a hand, but Annabeth bats it aside and stands by herself. They're a couple, that's obvious - the playful competitiveness does nothing to mask the love they have in their eyes when they look at each other.
"Alliance, is it?" Percy says, swiping the sweat from his forehead with a hand.
"Yes," I say.
"You're a good shot, and you're strong," Annabeth says, looking at me and then at Peeta. "I'm clever, and he's skilled. So yes."
A handshake is exchanged, and then it's like nothing ever happened.
Mags and Finnick readily accept.
1 are last. They're sparring on the next mat over, a blur of fists and feet and knees. Before long, Rose manages - just - to flip Dimitri over her shoulder and straddle his legs.
"Alliance?" Dimitri says, when we've caught their attention. He has an odd voice, tinged slightly with an accent that isn't District, but isn't Capitol.
"You got it in one," Peeta says.
"I'm okay with it," Rose says, hands on hips, chest heaving. "Dimitri?"
He folds his arms, considering, then nods.
So...yes. Done - until next time!