Author's Note: This is kind of a long chapter because I had kind of the opposite of writer's block. Gloss isn't the mentor because he won the Hunger Games directly after this one, so I decided to name the mentor Sicarium. I would've done more POVs, but this one was so long that I didn't.
Chapter 3: The Training Room And Surprise Allies
Number of Different POVs: 1
GEMM'S POV (DISTRICT 1 MALE)
The next day, I begin training. Atala, the trainer, says the some boring old thing about survival stations. Me and the other Careers already decided our strategy. Anyone who hasn't yet is going down first. We decided that even though we all knew how to use weapons, the others couldn't learn so half of us would learn actually useful things in survival and the rest would hog the weapons. I was chosen to hog weapons because I'm good at throwing knives, but excellent with a sword.
I head straight to the throwing knives and take aim for the head. The first one skims over the dummy's shoulder and lodges in the wall. The second one lodges right next to the bull's-eye over the heart. The trainer congratulates me, but I was aiming for the brain. Oops. The third knife hits the neck in a definitely fatal spot. I realize that all of my throws go lower than I want, so I aim above the dummy's head and am rewarded with a pat on the shoulder. But the rewards in the arena for a good hit will be much sweeter.
Soon, I am getting 80% of the throws where I want them. Pretty good, but I prefer swords. My mentor, Sicarium, advised me to use them enough to intimidate others. The higher-district kids like 7,11, and 12 can't afford for their only skills to be leaked to us, the Careers, but we want to intimidate the other tributes, give them a good scare. So I ask for an assistant to practice with.
I lose myself in it. I am not afraid to fight hardcore because the swords have dulled tips. Soon I have everyone's attention as I slash my way through her blocks and thrusts. I manage to jab her in the heart, stomach, neck or head many times. Even Sheen, who knows what I am capable of, can't tear her eyes from us.
On the second day of training, the Careers switch. In other words, the survival kids do weapons and me, along with Osher and Opthalmius, do survival skills. I head over to the poisonous plants station since Sheen was the only person I saw there yesterday. I am a fast learner and I soon know about plenty of different plants and how to tell if it is edible. As I head out of the room at the conclusion of training the trainer there reminds me something I have heard millions of times: If you don't recognize a plant, don't eat it, no matter how edible it might look.
The third day of training is all of the Careers trying to keep everyone else away fro the weapons. Anytime they do manage to come over, one of us goes and outperforms their work by a mile and the trainer turns their attention to us. I feel good about my survival chances.
That night, my escort and our mentors want to talk strategy. Sheen, being the total idiot she is, says, "What strategy? We have a Career pack, isn't that the strategy?"
The escort, Bubbilia, who is easily agitated, gets into a frenzy over her dismissal of it and needs to leave. But Sicarium and Sheen's mentor, Ignilia, are made of stronger stuff. Sicarium says in immediate response, "No. Allies and strategy are different. For example, you could have an ally and not know what to do. They are different."
But Ignilia replies slowly. "No, not exactly. An ally like he Career pack is like having someone to watch your back. And in response, you do it for them. Strategy is avoiding the need for them to watch your back, but you still have them in case your strategy fails."
See, this is why Sicarium is so much better than Ignilia. Ignilia could dance around the answer for hours and tell you nothing you didn't know. Sicarium, however, gets right to the point of things. We don't have time to waste until the Games, and he won't waste our time.
Sicarium takes out a piece of paper from who-knows-where and starts scribbling on it. When he is finished, the paper has been divided up into 4 sections. In each is a different step for winning. Ignilia, meanwhile, babbles about something having to do with the Cornucopia and food and drinks and trust. Probably good information, but I cant make heads or tails of what she says. These are Sicarium's four steps:
1. Storm the Cornucopia, killing everyone not allied with you. Then loot their bodies. Only then do you loot the Cornucopia.
2. Act as if you care for and trust your allies. Only keep this up as an act, and DO NOT BEFRIEND ANY OF THEM. You will regret it later.
3. Find a base next to a water source and food source. Divide up the loot between everybody and get situated. Make it feel like home, because it will become yours.
4. Hunt down everybody else first. Do this with the other Careers. Then catch them by surprise and destroy as many as possible before running away. The Gamemakers will take care of the rest.
I head to my bedroom and try to sleep, but I feel restless. Finally, after fantasizing about my victory moment, getting a 12 in training, and the Victory Tour, I manage to get some rest.
The next day starts with a big, bountiful breakfast of a pastry dough filled with some sort of savory meat that somehow tastes breakfast-y and a glass of something cold. It tastes like milk, but it is brown and someone informs me that they put chocolate it in. Chocolate milk! Only in the Capitol. I devout the glass and get seconds, but I only get halfway through this one. I am too full to eat any, but they also bring out a platter with scrambled eggs on it, except some parts have different things mixed in than other parts. One part has scallions, another bacon, another sausage, and another fruit!
I am herded directly into a small room with 24 other kids. As the District One male, I am scheduled to go first. Good. I want to have their full attention. I head straight over to the sword-fighting station and an assistant comes out to fight with me. I go harder than I did even in training, as hard as I will in the Games. I block every time and I fight to the bitter end of five minutes when they leave.
I turn to them and they show only mild surprise. What?! Those were insane moves! Professional level, and they look like they want to give me a 5, I think to myself. I head over to the poisonous plants station and I beat it easily. Their expressions say plainly that they think a 7 would be generous. I head back to the knives station and manage, by some miracle, to have a 95% success rate. They look like they will consider an 8. Finally, out of sheer despair, I go over to the wrestling station and win like 5 rounds. I decide that an 8 is the best I am going to get; a fact confirmed when they dismiss me.
I head out of the back door and do a bunch of nothing until lunch. A thick, creamy, blueberry sauce to dip small squares of white bread into is the appetizer. This is followed by a pig that has been put on a bed of apple slices cut so thin I could almost see through them. The pig was drizzled in a delightfully smooth, almost sweet cheese sauce that sits lightly on my tongue. Dessert is an arrangement of small cakes not quite cupcake-sized but not real cake-sized either. They are decorated with many different-colored roses.
That night we watch the training scores with anticipation. Caesar Flickerman smiles at the camera. His color this year is a bright, intense yellow. "It's that time of year again! With the Hunger Games so close, I get the exciting job of announcing the training scores! So here you go: The 63rd Hunger Games training scores!
"Gemm has received a 9." A nine! I can't believe it! I thought they had hated how I had done. I personally think I deserved a ten, but I'm not about to turn down a nine. It was impressive.
"Sheen has received a 10." A ten. Sheen. What did that idiot possibly do to get a ten? Maybe I underestimated her after all, but still. A ten!? That was like a victor's score or something, though.
"Osher has received a 9." A nine, same as me. What did he do that got him a nine? I suppose in District 2 they have as good a training program as we do in District 1. "Betha has received an 8." Low for a Career, but still very high and formidable.
"Edgar Othins has received a 5." Halfway. Not much more than I expected. Especially since I got 4 points more than him. "Samantha Meyer has received a 4." Wow. What a weakling. She is going down.
"Opthalmius has received a 10." Better than me. I make a mental note not to let down my guard around him. "Imber has received a 7." Is it just me, or does Caesar look slightly surprised? A seven is not bad for a District 4 tribute, but lower than usual.
A five. For someone from a district of the same number, a 5 is actually okay. Of course, I could take her easily. The thing about District 5 tributes is their brain. They get far because they are wily enough to survive in the arena. "Alf has received a 3." I give him 3 days in the arena, tops. "Eve has received a 5."
"Itus has received a 7." Okay, now that worries me. And the way he volunteered, too. I wonder if he acted like a Career, but dismiss it quickly. This is District 6 we are talking about, after all. But at the same time, I consider recruiting him as a Career. "Iris has received a 4." She should be dead within about a day. Maybe two if she doesn't go into the Cornucopia
"Ridgen has received a 6." They both did average, factoring in age and district. "Cleo has received a 6." Usually District 7 is pretty skilled. The kids have to chop down trees after all.
"Eston has received a 2." He could barely start a decent fire with matches. "Bess has received a 4." I wonder what she showed them. Perhaps how efficiently she can tie a simple knot. That was the only station she was at, and her knots still were horrible.
"Blon has received a 4." Wow. Even worse than Lal, which is saying something. "Lal has received a 5." Good for her. She is probably squealing over such a horrible score, excited nonetheless, if her personality at training is any indicator. I mean, really.
"Cletus has received a 2." No comment. Just, no comment. "Marce has received a 5." Not much. Not anything, really. Easy enough to take on.
"Triticum has received a 7." Must be because of the eerily silent way he walks. "Rustica has received a 2." Her limp is almost certainly why. It would be a joke to brag, "Yay! I killed Rustica!" You could chase her down and she couldn't do a thing about it.
"Foculus has received a 3." I'm just glad Haymitch isn't my mentor or I would probably have a 3 also. "Pruna has received a 2." How could she have done even worse than Foculus? That is my only question.
After the training scores, I eat some dinner and climb into bed. It is so soft and downy that I am asleep within seconds. I dream about Claudius Templesmith announcing that I am victor, the blood on my sword still fresh. But I leave away the arena and I am brought into glory. I wear a smile that night as I drift off.
CHAPTER THREE END