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Marlon Haigh
District Nine Male, 14 Years Old
Training

"Welcome, tributes, to the Training Center."

The Head Trainer waves their arm, gesturing for us to gather around. We all close-in on him, with the tributes from One, Two, and Four in the front. The boy from District One is off to the side, his arms crossed over his chest as he stares directly at the Head Trainer. The girl from Four wanders around, not paying much attention to the man in front of us.

The man goes on to tell us where stations are located, what the rules are, and what we should expect from the next few days. We train for three, then the Private Sessions. It's nothing I haven't heard before.

Slipping my hand in my pocket, I graze my finger along the badge in it, flicking off some of the rust. I grip it in my hands, and when the Head Trainer blows his whistle, I release my grip. It's time to train, not reminisce.

I can't worry about my brother right now.

I just wish it was that easy.

All around me, they all disperse, headed in different directions. I take a step forward, but once I realize that I don't know where I want to go, I pause. I should go to something I have some experience with, so when I look to see where the sickles, I see that there's no one there.

I want to go there, then.

I just want some alone-time.

The sickles are lined on the wall, all different lengths and with different handles. Some are sharper than the others, the blade being longer and more curved. I go for one of the shorter, light ones, and as I grip it, it doesn't feel right.

None of this does.

Would it ever feel right?

Being reaped for something my brother took part in… Was that ever supposed to feel right?

I can't think like that. I can't blame my brother – he did nothing wrong. He stood up for himself, he did what most of Panem can't do. He was strong, and although he was considered defiant and a 'rebel', he's still someone I look up to.

He's the one I look up to.

"Marlon?"

Reanine is standing in front of me, looking down at the sickle in my hand. I look up, shaking those thoughts out of my head. I'm here now, and there's nothing I can do about it. The only thing I can do is fight for my life. Fight to survive, fight to honor my brother.

I can't let him die in vain.

"Hi, Reanine."

"Rea," she says, smiling sweetly. "Call me Rea."

"Rea it is," I say. "Just Marlon will do."

"Not Marl'?" She says, laughing, a piece of her hair falling in front of her face. Before we ever talked, she seemed so shy, but at least she's more comfortable around me. That makes me feel better about myself. "Can I see that?"

I nod, handing her the sickle. It weighs her arm down, and she tries to pick it up, but even one of the lighter ones is too much for her to handle. She gets all red, handing it back to me and running her finger along the handle of a different one. She smiles as she does it, and she looks up, but quickly averts her eyes and looks back at the sickle.

"Do you want to be allies, Marl'?" Reanine asks, her voice not sounding so confident. "You don't have to… I was just asking."

"Yes," I say, trying to sound as genuine as possible. I'd like to ally with her, really. I can't say no to a girl like her. "Let's ally, Rea."

Reanine flashes one of her smiles again, turns around, and picks up one of the sickles. She takes the smallest one, one that she can actually carry. She holds it up in the air, but after looking at it for a minute or so, she looks uncomfortable. She shakes her head, puts it back down, and it looks like she's about to ask me something.

"Can we go somewhere else?" She asks, pushing out her lower lip as she spins on her heel, looking around the Training Center. She shrugs, saying, "Let's see what the plants are all about."

Reanine rushes ahead of me, heading for the plant-identification station. There, the District Twelve is sitting, flipping through some pages of the book. Besides him is the girl from District Eleven, also flipping through the pages, but she scrunches her eyebrows, looking like she doesn't quite understand what it's saying.

Reanine eagerly goes over to talk to the boy from Twelve, while the girl from Eleven scoots over to read in silence. I can't help but think that maybe Reanine wants him in this alliance too.

I wouldn't mind, though. Alliances are helpful.

They would help me survive. And I need to survive. Not just for me, but also for my brother.

I want to be someone my brother would be proud of.

I don't want him to seem me as some failure.

I want to show him that I'm more than that. That I'm more than just his younger brother, the one that was always so naïve, so happy-go-lucky. I've changed now.

I've changed for him.

Leilani Theriott
District One Female, 18 Years Old
Training

"You look lost, One."

The girl from District Two appears from behind me, followed by her District partner. She picks up one of the knives on the table, examines her reflected imagine in it, and with a swift flick of her wrist, sends it hurling towards the target. She flares her nostrils, shooting a glance at her partner.

"Levana," she states.

"Mathias," the boy says, giving me a quick wink. "I don't think you can forget a name like that. Or a face like mine."

"Leilani," I add, making sure not to flinch as Levana scoops up another knife, sending it flying towards the target. The first knife hit bulls-eye, while the second is only an inch or so to the right. "And, no, I'm not lost."

"Then why are you just standing around?"

"Ouch," Mathias says, weighing a sword in his hand and then slashes at the air with it. "You just met the poor girl, Lev. Cut her some slack."

"No, no, she's right," I say, scooping up one of the smaller knives on the table. It's delicate, not weighing much in my hand. "Why just stand here, right? We can't have that, can we?"

I throw the first knife. Then a second knife. Then a third.

Picking up another knife, I finally pause for a moment, looking at the target. The knives landed in the stomach, the arm, and the neck, and before I can throw the last knife, I sigh. It's a deep sigh, and slowly, I lower my arm, calming myself down.

Don't let your emotions consume you.

"That's more like it. Thank you, One."

I shake my head, suppressing a sneer. I was taught better than to be outright disrespectful. "Levana?"

"Yes, One?"

"My name is Leilani."

"You're One to me."

"I am nothing to you," I snap, placing the knife carefully back on the table. Licking my bottom lip, I smile, turning to face Levana. "I am not obligated to be your ally, Levana."

"Tribute incoming," Mathias says, cutting me off so that Levana and I fall silent. "I like this one."

The girl from District Four suddenly comes over, attaching herself to the hip of Mathias. Levana sneers in disgust, making it obvious that she doesn't like her. She disregards the gesture, though, and introduces herself, rustling her hands through Mathias' hair.

"Otrera Hale, District Four," she states, bobbing her head. "Did I miss anything?"

"Yes, actually," Levana says broadly, gesturing towards me with her hands. "My friend Leilani and I were just discussing the alliance this year."

"What's the verdict?" Otrera asks, eying Mathias.

"No."

"No?" Levana looks surprised, but it's feigned. She's unfazed by the idea of not having an alliance with me. "That's a shame."

"I don't understand," Otrera says, her voice grating on my patience. "Why won't we be in an alliance? The Careers are always an alliance."

I shrug, trying to play it off coolly. "Within a few seconds of meeting me, Levana's already made up her mind. She doesn't want me as an ally. Any objections, Otrera?"

Otrera shakes her head, stepping away from Mathias. Levana looks me up and down, a smug grin on her face. Spinning on my heels, I turn around, the boy from District Four, Jonah, meeting my gaze. He averts his eyes, looking back at the spears and making small-talk with the boy from District Six.

Why isn't Levana harassing him as well? Is he not up to her standards as well?

Or, maybe, he just doesn't want to join her alliance that she's attempting to create. I now understand why he's doing what he's doing. Secluding himself, ignoring the rest of the tributes from the Career Districts.

He's not going to conform to the Career-standards. He's being his own person.

I respect that.

That was always something I fought for. Something I'm still fighting for.

I can hear Levana and Mathias chatting behind me, and with one big boost of confidence, I stride over towards Jonah. If they won't respect me, then perhaps he will. I'm not here to be walked all over or to be belittled.

I'm no one's puppet. Especially not someone like Levana.

"Jonah, right?" I say, walking past him and picking up one of the spears. I toss it up in the air, catch it in my hands, and wait for him to respond.

"It's nice to finally meet you, Leilani," he says, the tone in his voice sincere. "What made you come over here?"

With a gentle throw, I toss the spear towards the target, only with enough force to barely impale it. Jonah passes me another one, nodding his head when I take it out of his hands. What a gentleman.

"Have you spoken to Levana yet?" I ask grinning and toss the spear again. Once again, it barely impales the target. "She's lovely, really."

"I'm not sure what to think of her yet," Jonah mumbles, glancing over at Levana. I can only imagine the look she's giving me right now. "

"I'll help you," I reply, not taking the next spear out of his hand. "Don't think of her. Simple as that."

Jonah forces out laughter and throws a spear of his own. The spear he throws goes all the way through the target, poking a hole out the other side. I tilt my head, smirking, and bring my hand up to his shoulder. Patting it, I nod my head, seeing him look at my hand uncomfortably.

"What do you say, Jonah?" I ask, seeing a smile appear a little too quickly on his face. He stares at me as I nod my head, not completely smiling back at him. "How about it's just you and me? Who needs them, anyway?"

"Really?" Jonah asks, detectible disbelief in his voice. "Shouldn't we at least give them a chance?"

I raise an eyebrow, shaking my head side-to-side now. "Why would we?"

"No, you're right," he says, seeming shameful. "Just you and me, Leilani."

That will show Levana. That I don't need her or the Career alliance.

I don't need any of them.

I have my own mind. My own ambition. My own voice.

I can do it on my own without their help or aid.

I can do it all by myself.

Caden Glite
District Five Male, 15 Years Old
Training

How interesting.

The girl from District Two gawks at the girl from District Four, staring at her with such intense disgust in her eyes that I wonder what would happen if there were no rules here.

What would she do then?

Would she attack her?

I would think so. The girl from Two seems aggressive enough, already conveying the dislike she has for girl she's supposed to be in an alliance with. We're all supposed to do a lot here, though, aren't we?

I scoff.

We're rebels. We don't do what we're supposed to do.

Shifting my body, I turn back to the station I'm at. There are wires spread out across the table, all with different colors and different tips. The two from District Three – the red-head girl and the boy with the gap in his teeth – are hunched over it, attempting to create a spark in a lightbulb.

Something as simple as that.

I could go over and help him… But, no, I'd rather sit and watch. I'd rather observe.

Blue to red, I think, as if they can hear me. They have no idea what they're doing. The girl grabs the wire with the red tip, and for a moment, I think she might be doing something correctly. Once the boy hands her the wire with the green tip, though, I shake my head.

Not even District Three, the District where technology is their industry, can figure this simple task out.

What if they did get it to light up, though? Would they feel proud of themselves?

That wouldn't help you in the Games. Not many of these stations actually would.

Next up, I look at the boy from District One. I just find those Careers so interesting; the way they're raised, the way they're brainwashed into worshipping the Hunger Games. It never fails to amaze me. Perhaps, this year will be different. Maybe they all want be as deranged and bloodthirsty as usual.

When the One boy picks up his sword and stabs it through the head of the dummy, that thought is quelled. Of course he's like the rest. He stands there alone, intently staring at the dummy and disregarding everything around him. He's focusing on himself and on his sword.

He seems like an interesting specimen. I wouldn't mind watching him throughout his time in the Capitol. Perhaps in the Games, too. What if we come face-to-face in the arena?

What would happen then?

What if…

"Hi."

I'm interrupt mid-thought, the sound of a deep voice coming from behind me. Looking upwards, I turn around slowly, grinning at whoever has intruded on my introspection. Behind me is the pair from District Nine; the girl is small, her blonde hair in a bob-cut. The boy peers at me, though, with a grudge on his face.

I wonder what to make of that.

"She insisted we approached you," the boy says, his demeanor not as friendly as he's trying to come across. "This is Reanine. I'm Marlon."

What cute names.

"I'm Caden," I say, curtly nodding. "What brings you over here?"

"It's the first day of training," Marlon says, glancing at Reanine, who's staring back at him. "We don't want to waste any time trying to find allies."

Allies?

I like the sound of that.

Feigning reflection, I tilt my head upwards, looking down at them. The girl awkwardly flicks her eyes back-and-forth between me and Marlon, but Marlon stares forward, not squirming like she is.

"Convince me."

Marlon opens his mouth, but Reanine cuts in. He didn't look like he wasn't going to be nice about it, anyway. "An alliance is better."

Truly convincing.

'An alliance is better,' she says. That's all I need to hear.

"We'd have a better chance of surviving if we had a large group," Marlon says, doing a much better job than Reanine. I don't even really want them to convince me; I just don't want them to get too comfortable around me.

Not yet, anyway.

"Well," I say, seeing a hopeful look appear on Reanine's face. She stares up at me, playing with her hands in front of her. "I'd be honored to ally with you two."

Reanine whispers something to Marlon, who shrugs his shoulders and makes a face in return. She smiles, walking over to the wires station. Marlon follows, glancing at me before he walks away. I still don't know what to make of him.

Reanine seems naïve. Too nice for her own good.

Marlon, though… I can see it in his eyes that he didn't want to ally with me.

That will change, though. He'll come around to his senses.

When they arrive, the two from District Three leave the station, leaving it open for their use. I go over there as well, standing in the middle of them as they play around with the wires. Reanine is distracted with the wires, while Marlon is hesitant, still watching me. Reanine perks up, seeming like she forgot to say something she had planned all along.

"You can call me Rea," she says. "I like it more."

I smile, nodding, and hold my hands out in front of her. "Sure thing, Rea. Now, why don't you give me the wires? I'll show you how it works."

Rea dumps them into my palm, and Marlon sets his wires down, watching what I'm about to. I have to nice to them, don't I? That's the only way they'll do anything I tell them to.

They have to like me first. They have to trust me.

Connecting the blue to the red wire, the light sparks up, making Reanine shake Marlon's arm. Marlon nods his head, only looking at the light for a quick second. We make eye-contact, and with just that gesture, I can see that he won't be as easy as Reanine.

He'll make things interesting.

It won't stop me, though. The two of them, they'll be easy. They'll prove no challenge to me. I've done it before, and I can do it again. More people would make this better, though, and that will be no problem. We will recruit more people. I'll make sure of it.

This is all under my manipulation, anyway.

They are under my manipulation. My control.

I'm the stimuli.

And they're the variables in my experiment.

Claire Dasilva
District Eight Female, 18 Years Old
Training

On the screen, there is a video with words underneath it.

The video is of a fire, with the trees around it burning down. There's smoke everywhere, with the tree branches snapping off and plummeting down into a plume of smoke. I watch it and when I look underneath the video, the question is asking me: What would you do?

There are a few scenarios, but as I try to read each one carefully, I have to stop. It's too loud in here. Glancing over my shoulder, I see tributes chatting among each other, tributes sparring with the trainers, and then I see people just walking around.

It's too noisy.

I turn back around, trying to focus just on this Arena Simulation. I've already answered eight out of ten questions, and I must answer the last two. If I were to get a perfect score, that would at least make me feel better about myself. That, maybe by some wild chance, I won't die.

That maybe I won't be killed.

Because of my brother, nevertheless.

Getting fed up with all of the noise around, I skim through the answers, just picking the first one I think is correct. When a large red 'X' pops up on the screen, though, I slump in my seat, mad at myself. If I were in the arena… I couldn't get distracted like that.

I have to be alert, more focused.

I have to do better.

Resetting the Simulation, I start once again at question one. I begin to watch the video of a large lake covered with ice, and the question is asking me: What would you do?

"Well, what would you do, Claire?"

Just as I'm about to press my answer, the voice distracts me, getting me even more agitated. I turn my head to look at them, but before I open my mouth, I see who it is. It's Nathaniel.

"I would just walk away."

"That's what they would want you to do, Nate," I reply, going back and pressing the correct answer. In the video, you can see muttations chasing after you in the distance. They want you to go across the lake. "It's all about detail."

Nathaniel chuckles to himself, taking a seat next to me. "Show me more. I'll get the next one right."

"Okay," I say, pressing the arrow. The next question is set in grasslands, with high-grass and the sun high in the sky. There's a barn far in the distance, and from a hole in the wall, you can see the Cornucopia is in there. "What would you do?"

"I'd go in the barn to get supplies."

"And die while trying," I add, smirking, but when I look at Nathaniel, he doesn't seem assumed. I shake my head, reaching over him and pressing the correct answer. "Sorry."

I'm sorry. I never know what to say or do. I'm not good with people.

There's a gap of silence.

I turn to the side, pretending to look at something else that is going on. I watch the boy from District Six go over and start a conversation with the girl from Three, while her District partner just wanders around behind her. Then, there's the girl from District Ten at the axe station.

I don't see a large group for the Careers, though. All I see is the two from District Two together and then the girl from One and the boy from Four together.

"What do you think happened?" He asks, starting to play around with the screen. He gets the first few wrong, and he just smirks to himself, turning it back off.

"What?"

"With the Careers."

I shrug, trying to find the boy from One and the girl from Four. "I'm not sure. Maybe they realized how bloodthirsty and two-faced they all are and decided to not get backstabbed this year."

Once again, Nathaniel doesn't laugh.

"Sorry," I say sheepishly, turning back to the screen in front of me. "It was a joke."

"Oh."

I'm ruining it.

Just like I do with every other person I talk to.

"So, Claire."

"So, Nate."

"Find anyone yet?" He asks, giving me a look that shows he already knows the answer. He knows that all I did today was sit here by myself, playing with this silly Simulation. He's just trying to make a point.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I didn't mean it like that," he says, bringing up his hands from underneath the table. "I meant like an ally."

"Oh," I utter, shaking my head. I ruined it again, didn't I? "But, no, I didn't. Did you?"

"I think so," he says, looking away from me but then flashing me a grin. "She's smart and I think I can get along really well with her."

"Who?" I ask, scanning over the tributes one last time.

"Come on, Claire," he says, laughing, but this time, it's a genuine laugh. At least he's finally found something funny that involves me. "It's you."

"Oh," I say meekly, lowering my head and looking down at my lap. "Don't I have a say in it?"

"Not really."

"Not even a minute to think about it?"

"Nope."

Maybe I didn't ruin it.

Maybe this time, I'll make a friend and not ruin it like I do with everyone else.

"Okay."

"Okay?"

"We can be allies."

"I like the sound of that."

Me too, Nate.

I like the sound of having someone that will be there for me.

I'm not used to that.

Author's Note:

Hi, everyone.

That is Training, obviously. How'd everyone enjoy it? Anyone stand out? Any favorites? You know the drill by now; just answer those and I'll like you that much more.

On a more serious note, Jakey121 and I have recently started and published a collab-SYOT. The story is on how profile (titled Epitaph, and it is the 20th Hunger Games). It'd be great if everyone could go over there and submit a tribute. Now, that I would really appreciate.

So, that's all, but please, send a tribute!