A/N: Ok, so I now I've been gone for a little while, right when I said chapters would be getting a lot more frequent. Well the past week has been phenomenally busy and every chance I've had to write has been met with a severe case of writer's block. But I'm back now, and the show will go on! Or the story in the case, but whatever, because here is…The Second Day of Training!
Oh yes, one more thing...WOOO WE'VE REACHED OVER 100 REVIEWS! THAT IS PHENOMENAL! IT'S ALL BECAUSE OF YOU GUYS, THE READERS, SO BE SURE TO KEEP UP WHAT YOU'RE DOING!
Omri Grain- District Nine
Waking up, it still feels like a dream. Like some horrible nightmare that has me in its grip, not letting me go no matter how hard I thrash and scream. The orphanage, still so clear in my mind, is so distant now, far behind the streets of the capitol. I can feel the damp texture of my soft down pillow still, soaked from my tears the night before. I haven't been stable since we've left District Nine, my heart aches and my eyes sting from all this emotion, but I'm just not ready to die. I'm not ready. I won't ever be, until the moment some bloodthirsty career's sword runs through my stomach, then I will come to terms with death. When it's over.
I already know I'm predestined for the bloodbath, even Sage, one of our mentors, told me so. Sitting on the train, his eyes were all over Cynthia, and he eventually came out and said it once we began talking about our prospects for victory.
"Well this one here," I remember him saying, pointing at me with a gnarled hand, "This one here won't even be able to lift a sword, just watch him d-d-dash our chances as soon as he sets foot in t-t-that arena." The old man grumbled at me from the morning to the evening, griping about how District Nine will never get another victor if tributes like me keep getting sent in. Then he laid his eyes on Cynthia, and he hasn't removed them since. Our other mentor, Astrid, is pretty much silent, except for one thing she said on the train.
"I don't take stock in kids like you," she spat from her standing position by the window, "Nine won't have another victor like me."
"Like you?" Sage guffawed, "What about me honey? The Third Annual Hunger Games were just smashing!" It's true, Sage won his games forty-six years ago, making him sixty-four years old today. The old curmudgeon spends most of his time the victor's lounge, drinking and carrying on with the older and more revered victors. Not too many victors that come are the older ones, but since Nine only has two, Sage is obligated.
So, without a mentor willing to teach me I had tried to learn, and what a mistake that had been. Yesterday was a train wreck in terms of training, I'm not strong or quick enough to do much and my skills aside from fighting are limited. I can't start a fire nor can I tell you what plants will hurt or help you. I'm basically a walking target, and I decided to hasten my accelerating approach towards death by skipping breakfast, which I was late to anyways and head straight for the training complex.
Most of the tributes are already there, due to my knack for sleeping past deadlines. The careers are spread out all over the place, and my eyes quickly scan over an unfamiliar face, a girl with beautiful blonde hair filling a target with arrows in the most accurate places. Not even flinching, she looses another one and the target gets another arrow lodged in its frame, right near the middle. Her accuracy is deadly, each arrow she fires hits its intended target, but the grace and poise she carries herself with makes the exercise seem more like art. I guess I'm standing there for quite some time, goggling over the new girl, who I presume is replacing Jemima.
Jemima. That whole event was horrible; I even had nightmares about it. The poor girl, older than me, just wanted to get back home; she didn't want to die at the hands of some malicious teenager in the same scenario. My mind can't erase the spot of blood dampening her chest where the bullet entered; the macabre stain has permanently etched itself into my brain. Her limp body dangled from the hands of the grisly peacekeepers, their white uniforms and placid demeanor making the murder seem like a daily occurrence. It's just business to them, an annual event that calls for parties and salary hikes, but to us, it's a living, breathing, walking, nightmare.
My thoughts ward off the desire to train, and knowing my fate; I decide to glumly plop down on a bench near the poisonous plants section, far from the main activity of the room. Resting my head in my hands, grieving for myself, I don't even notice the boy from Eleven approach, and when he does, I'm about as surprised at his brazenness as he is.
"Something I can do for you?" I mutter, not wanting to engage in conversation. The boy, a gleam in his eyes that tells me he's up to something, almost instantly replies to my monotone question.
"Actually I was hoping you could," he states, "I'd like to make a deal."
Is he kidding? What does this dumb kid want? Sure I'm probably only a year or a few months older than him, but I don't think I was that stupid when I was twelve. I don't even know his name, yet I get this strange feeling that he wants something along the lines of an alliance. Which wouldn't make sense to me, I mean why would he pick me of all people?
"What kind of deal?" I stammer after what's more than a few moments, and he jumps to the reply once more.
"An alliance," he says boldly, "I think us younger boys need to band together, that way we won't be picked off the second we enter the arena."
His words are true, but I'm still confused as to why he would pick me. If I were to consider his offer, possibly build an alliance between us and whatever other younger boys there are, then we might be able to slide past the bloodbath. Not saying victory would even be a fathomable prospect at that point, but making it past the opening act of this horrific little game would be nice.
"Is there anyone else in mind?" I ask, and then pause to collect a few thoughts. "I don't even know your name," I state.
"Auric Zola," The boy says proudly, "And to answer your question the boy from Five looks like he could use a hand. My personal problem with these games is that the weaker tributes are never given a chance, so if we could all band up, we might be able to make it out of there. I didn't catch your name either," He says quite amiably. Auric doesn't seem to have a problem with meeting new people, whereas my orphan background has caused me to be a bit apprehensive of people who call themselves your friends.
"I'm Omri, and his name is Caramen," I say, not responding to most of what he said.
"You mean the boy from Five?" Auric asks, nodding his head to the small red-headed child over by the gauntlet. We turn to watch him try his luck against the behemoth of a course. He makes it past the first set of swinging platforms, but the side panel that springs up from the side knocks him flat on his back and the trainer manning the station sharply blows his whistle. The shrill cry of the instrument lets me know Caramen is out, and Auric raises his eyebrows.
"See what I mean?" He asks, "We have to band together."
Nothing good has happened to me since I left District Nine only two days ago. I've spent most of my time moping and sniveling over the approaching end of my life, and I've let precious time meant for preparation slip away from me. Now, I'm being given an opportunity, an opportunity that probably won't present itself again. If Auric, Caramen and I could band together and make it past the bloodbath, well, I don't know what could happen.
"I'm in," I say suddenly, slightly shocking Auric.
"Really?" He says, seeming surprised.
"It's a good idea," I admit, "We're going to need all the help we can get, so I just thought it'd be foolish to turn you down."
"Then I think it's time we pay Caramen a visit," Auric says, and the two of us nod in agreement as we head towards the area near the gauntlet, where Caramen is catching his breath.
"What do you want two want? Here to make fun of me?" Caramen says in a pitiable voice, his hair drenched with sweat and plastered to his face.
"Quite the opposite," Auric says with his arms crossed, "We're here to make you a deal."
Laughing to myself at Auric's business-like manner, warmth starts to enter my body for the first time in two days. Caramen looks at him, not knowing what to say, so Auric continues.
"Omri and I are in an alliance, and we thought you might like to join us," Auric explains, and Caramen's eyes instantly light up. The cerulean seems to dance in his irises, and he looks up at my companion and me with a soft expression on his face.
"Why'd you pick me?" He asks, not answering Auric's proposal.
"I believe, well we believe," he changes his speech after glancing at me, "That us younger boys who don't seem to stand much of a chance should team up, that way we won't be helplessly slaughtered when the bloodbath begins."
Caramen takes all of this in and comments, "It is a good plan. Count me in." Like that, our triad is complete, and feeling more confident about my position in these games, I happily follow Auric and Caramen back to the gauntlet, where Auric suggests we run through it.
"But I just did," Caramen complains and Auric shoots him a disapproving look.
"We can't give up when we fall," Auric says, "Or else we'll end up where we don't want to." His optimism is obvious as he climbs the scaffold to the gauntlet, and even though he's only twelve I can see he's a true leader. I was so worried yesterday as I watched Cynthia team up with that boy from Two, not understanding why he refused to join the careers. She had an ally and I didn't, and I felt absolutely awful. But now I've got two allies, more than she does, and perhaps these games won't be as gruesome for me as I think.
Auric Zola- District Eleven
I didn't expect my idea to work out as simply as that, I thought perhaps either one of them or both might need a bit more cajoling in order to agree, but it seems as if the second I brought up the request, both of them happily complied. I've got two allies now, whereas I had none this morning, and I bet Amber is still squirming in the dirt trying to find someone to watch her back.
It's not that I don't like Amber, because she's actually pretty cute, it's just that I don't see myself as anywhere close to a worthy ally of her. The second we boarded that train, she immediately put on some stuck up air that seemed foreign to her nature, from what I had learned of her during the reaping. On stage, Amber looked scared, almost as if she was pleading with someone to take her place. That look quickly evaporated as we boarded the train, and she instantly neglected conversation with me. Her expression and the way she cut her eyes at me suggested I was some sort of dirty creature, which might be pretty accurate. All the capitol showers in the world can't get rid of the scent of District Eleven's orchards.
The thought drives me towards home, and I think about everything I left behind. My thoughts are with my family at first, but slowly they drift to Melodia. She is so beautiful; I would give anything just to see her face one more time. I don't know if she's at home or in the orchards now, but I can still envision her face, the sweet red cheeks, her warm smile, all of it is still imprinted in my mind.
"Hey Auric, are you going to go?" Omri asks from behind me, and I realize I slipped into my fantasy while standing on the edge of the gauntlet. A bit embarrassed, my own cheeks flush as everyone gives me a pressing stare. Wiping my thoughts of Melodia and home from my mind, I put one foot forward and rush forth at the sound of the trainer's mark.
The first set of swinging pads is easy to jump over, and I've learned from watching others to lean to the left when the surprise panel pops up. Swiftly weaving my way in and out of the emerging panels, I reach the small gap before the swinging batons that are supposed to act like deadly pendulums. Steeling myself for any possible impact, I race forward and narrowly dodge the first and second ones. The third one clips my shoulder though, and I grimace in pain and nearly trip as my footing is knocked awry by the collision. Smacking into the fourth and final pendulum, my body tumbles off the gauntlet and onto the padded floor below.
The whistle's shrill call splits the air around me, signaling that the next tribute needs to get ready.
Omri goes next, and doesn't make it two steps before one of the initial spinning platforms knocks him off his feet and swiftly to the ground.
The whistle follows.
Caramen makes it a bit farther, but right after he gets past the spinning platforms, the same surprise panel that felled him earlier delivers his doom. Lying on the floor, all three of us are out of breath, the trials of the gauntlet obviously too much for us yet.
"We'll get it by tomorrow," I say encouragingly to my team, not wanting them to get disappointed in our newly formed alliance.
"If we make it to tomorrow," Omri says in a defeated tone, much to my annoyance.
We decide to disperse at that point, with Omri heading off to try and learn some pointers about archery and Caramen wanting to test his luck at the climbing wall. I decide to head to the camouflage station, in hopes of being able to learn how to effectively hide myself from threats like hungry careers.
"Welcome," a dark woman says, her lustrous black hair tied in a tight bun, "Anything in specific you're trying to learn?"
"How to hide myself," I say bluntly, wondering what else you can learn from camouflage.
"I'd suppose so," the woman remarks, her voice like velvet, "But what I really meant is what would you like to look like? A tree? A patch of grass? A fixture of rocks?"
Her questions intrigue me, and I settle on learning how to blend into some rocks, because I think if I was hiding in the first place, it would be somewhere like a cave.
She tells me her name is Nyria, and her delicate hands teach me how to effectively blend myself with my surroundings. We spend time painting my body with different sorts of textures so as to most convincingly conceal myself within my environment. Nyria is nice enough, not talking much except when to instruct. Eventually, I look exactly like a rock, well my arm does, and I thank her for her instruction and wash the gritty material off my forearm. With some new knowledge in hand, the alarm for lunch blares at the perfect time, and I reconvene with Omri and Caramen.
Trusting in my alliance mates, I share my newly learned skills with them, but it's Omri who has the news to deliver.
"I picked something up from the careers while I was at the archery station, apparently there are the beginnings of an anti-career alliance amongst us," he says with a hushed voice, barely a whisper.
"Do you know who's in it?" Caramen asks quietly, matching his tone to that of Omri's.
"The boy from Two and my district partner, Cynthia," Omri answers, "There's also a duo of the girl from your district Caramen and the girl from Eight. The careers were saying that if the two alliances combined…," He is interrupted by my announcement of our parallel thoughts.
"Then the careers would be met with a force to reckon with," I say, finishing his sentence. Omri nods solemnly, and Caramen absorbs the information. The four tributes Omri mentioned have displayed absolute prowess in several areas of the complex over the past two days. Omri's district partner Cynthia is absolutely deadly with a bow in her hands, and the boy from Two and Caramen's district partner wield a sword with total power and confidence. The girl from Eight seems well-rounded entirely, and nearly all of them appear to be trained, except maybe for Omri's district partner.
"Humph," Caramen grunts after a few moments, "This could prove to be an interesting mix."
The words don't sound like his, but the statement is true. If the careers were busy with an alliance against them, they won't have time to hunt the weaker tributes. This would give us as an alliance an advantage, and we may be able to play off the damage contributed to the careers by the newly formed anti-career group.
"Boys," I say, with a smile on my face, "We might just make it farther than we thought."
Aden Hanran- District Eight
As the alarm bell sounds for the end of lunch and the resumption of the afternoon sessions, I begin to grow a bit desperate. It's not that I'm feeling in danger of an early death, because I've held my own in training thus far, it's just that I need some allies. I won't make it by myself out there; I've always had people to rely on and people to rely on me. It's just how I've always been, and going into the arena without a few fallbacks isn't my cup of tea.
I resume my practice with the throwing knives, chucking each silver blade into a different target. They all land pretty accurately, but a few land in the places a bit to the side of the middle, disappointing me slightly. I know it'd still be a hit, but if I want to survive I have to perform flawlessly. My worries about allies still bog me down as I put the knives back on the table, when suddenly the girl from Twelve is in my face.
"Can I get a bit of space?" I ask awkwardly, not understanding her sudden interest in me.
"You can throw those knives pretty well," she remarks, not addressing her creepy entrance.
"You still haven't told me why you're talking to me, I'm pretty sure I didn't even exist in your world up until a few moments ago," I comment, making her focus her attention on me instead of the knives on the table. Coming a bit closer, encroaching upon my personal space, she says,
"Wrong, you did exist. I've been watching you since yesterday, because I think you and I share similar…backgrounds."
"And what would that similarity be?" I ask a bit peevishly.
"We're thieves," she says brusquely, "I can tell by the way you read a room, by the way you look at what people are holding before you look at their faces. I know you are good with hand to hand combat are close-chested weapons. I also see you eat the food at lunch like you're never going to eat again, only indicative of one thing."
"You gathered all of that from simply watching me?" I ask a bit confused.
"It's pretty easy to pick out your own kind," she says in that same mysterious, flirtatious voice.
"So, what if I told you that your guess was wrong?" I ask, trying to see how she handles pressure. I don't need allies who fold at the first sign of trouble.
"Then I'd call you a liar," Sasha spits, almost venomously. Apparently she doesn't have time for games, which I like.
"You'd be correct," I say, quieter, but loud enough for her to hear.
"I thought so, I'm hardly ever wrong," she says with a confident little smirk. She is pretty cute, but nothing like Lena. My mind drifts back to my family, and before I can picture the faces of my sweet girls, Sasha breaks up my thoughts yet again.
"So, what do you say?" She asks, hand outstretched.
"Deal," I reply, shaking her hand, not expecting the tough grip she gives it. This girl may put on the front that she's a wily little temptress, but deep down she's tough as nails.
"It can't be just us though," she says with concern, "We're going to need another ally, for more coverage and reliability in the arena." She sounds like she's played this game before, like it's some sport and she's the coach, picking the best team.
"Who do you have in mind?" I ask, wondering who the final member to our trio of thieves could be.
"The boy from Six, he may not be much to look at, but I can tell who he is," She responds, eyeing him over at the swordplay arena.
"Like how you deciphered me?" I ask, raising my left eyebrow.
"Exactly," she murmurs, and begins to make her way across the complex. She makes sure to swing her hips as she walks, swishing them from side to side. Her olive skin and brilliant auburn hair shine under the bright lights of the complex, and she glows with a radiance that commands attention. Sasha knows how to use her beauty to manipulate others, and I don't know if she'll have my back as much as I'll have hers in the arena. Sauntering right over to the swordplay arena, she reaches the boy from Six, who is taking a break to get some water. She strikes up the conversation, while I stand from afar, letting my ringlet of red curls hang into my eyes. The boy tries to sneak a casual glance in my direction, but I catch his gaze and he quickly averts eye contact.
I decide to walk over there, not giving Sasha the chance to strut all the way back across the complex.
"Good afternoon," I say to the boy, bowing a bit, "I've heard Sasha wants you to be a part of our team." I use my mock regality and put emphasis on my words to try and intimidate him, see if he'll want to be in an alliance with someone older like myself. I can tell he and Sasha are a few years younger than me, so I might be able to use that to my advantage to steer a bit of control from Sasha.
"Yeah," he finally stammers, "She was just saying that she wants to align the tributes with darker backgrounds, make some sort of rogue's alliance."
"I'm Aden," I introduce myself, "And Sasha and I are looking for someone with your talents to help us…advance a bit further so we don't get killed too soon."
"Loot," The boy says.
"What? No, there's nothing to steal, we just want to…," He cuts me off.
"I'm not stupid," he barks, "My name is Loot."
"Oh," I say, a bit embarrassed.
"So," Sasha says, breaking the barrier of awkwardness that surrounds us, "Are you in or are you out?" Her question is directed at Loot, and he shuffles his feet before replying with,
"Sure I'm in, it'd be good to have a few allies."
"Well as leader…," Sasha tries to begin but I swiftly cut her off.
"This group has no leader," I say sternly, "We've got each other's backs and that's that, we don't need a leader to cooperate. We're not the careers."
My words stun her for a moment, but then Loot slowly nods, "He's right, we should act more like a team and not have to rely on someone for judgment."
Sasha seemed a bit perturbed, but she agrees to my resolution. We won't be able to work if one of us is bossing the rest around, and although Sasha is one to be hungry for power, I know that she'll abide by the code. After all, we are a band of thieves right? There's got to be some honor, even among us.
Cynthia Pratt- District Nine
Not much has been said between Nero and I since this morning. We've just acknowledged one another as an ally and moved on to honing our skills before the games begin. We only have one more day to train after this, so we might as well cynosure our priorities on that instead of chit chat like the careers.
Their presence annoys me with each passing minute. The new girl, Allure, can't stop wrapping her arm around Avery and acting like he's her boyfriend or something. I don't even want to think about what they're up to when they go back to their room, but I know it's not for the eyes of some of the younger tributes. My thoughts drift back to Nero as I knock another arrow into the bow provided by the station, and what he said to me this morning.
"Ember," he said as he approached me, his golden hair just hanging into his eyes, "The word is that there's another alliance targeted at the careers, see if you can pick up any more information." Those beautiful golden eyes were trained right on me as he said those words, and I guess I got wrapped up in my day dream about him that I forgot to inquire more into this new alliance. I'm not going to say that I like Nero or anything, not like that, but I can't refrain from saying he's cute. The boy has shining golden hair and matching eyes that just melt your heart. It's more of a dumb crush than it is any real feeling, so I won't be fawning over his chiseled body while other tributes kill one another, no, I'll still be there, fighting alongside him.
I haven't even noticed how spectacularly perfect the girl next to me is at shooting until I take a quick break to get a drink and flush my mind of thoughts of Nero. She's tall, with voluminous red hair and hawk-like eyes. Her footing and placement are perfect, and she's loading and loosing arrows quicker than even I can. I don't like feeling second, I've always strived to be better, at school, against my sister, mostly anything. The feeling I get when someone does better than me bubbles inside of me right now, and it's something called jealousy.
"Hey," I say to the girl as she shoots, causing the arrow to veer right a little bit due to the startle I caused her.
"You made me miss," she spits, "There better be a good reason for that."
"Just saying hello," I answer, causing her anger to flare for a moment, but then subside.
"Sorry if I came off angry," she apologizes.
"You're forgiven," I say with a laugh, "Was there something bothering you?"
"I've been on my toes all day, and I don't know why I'm telling you this, but my alliance mate and I have been trying to determine who amongst us is out for the careers, and the other tributes just don't seem unified enough to focus on such a goal."
It's her! This girl, and whoever her alliance mates is, they're the ones Nero and I have been looking for!
"Well, I might be able to let you in a little secret," I whisper, causing her eyes to show visible signs of intrigue, the green irises focusing on my pursed lips, waiting to see what words will emerge next.
"My alliance mate and I have been looking for you, we're the other duo that's out for the careers. Sure, there are other alliances formed, those young boys have been hanging out all day and it looks like the scrawny boy from Six has teamed up with that girl from Twelve and the boy from Eight, but my partner and I are the ones you're looking for," I confess, causing a sly smile to appear on her face.
"My name is Daedrya," she says in reply, "I think you and I can make a deal. What's your name? I don't think I've caught it yet?"
"Cynthia, but I go by Ember," I explain, "What sort of deal would this be?"
"Say us two and you two team up? Then the careers would have something to worry about wouldn't they?" She paints the picture with her questions, mapping out my exact thoughts.
"I think they'd have a lot to worry about," I say diabolically, growing excited with the prospect of destroying the careers.
"Give me five minutes to talk to Amerilia, and then we'll all meet behind the Climbing Wall alright?" Daedrya asks and I let her go with a nod. Deciding to spread the news to Nero, I dart to the gauntlet, where he emerges from the other side, having successfully completed the course.
"What's up?" He asks, giving his sweaty hair a flick to the side. God he looks good, shirt plastered to his chest with sweat, pectorals and abdominals perfectly defined. Oh right, I've got to tell him something.
"I found the other anti-career group, they're meeting us behind the Climbing Wall, let's go," I say, but he appears hesitant.
"Sure it's them?" He asks dubiously, "What if they kill us the second we meet up in the arena?"
His worries are annoying, but I shake them off and respond, "They're taking the same risk, and besides I've already talked to one of them, she seemed genuine." Nero shrugs after a moment and follows me over to the climbing wall. Making sure no careers are around, we slip behind the station, out of view of the other tributes, where Daedrya and Amerilia are waiting for us.
"The boy from Two," Amerilia breathes, "Didn't think you'd be so gung-ho to kill your sister."
"We've had differences for a while now, she's no more my sister than your mother," Nero replies coolly, and Amerilia shrugs.
"So," Daedrya says, commencing the discussion, "If the four of us band together, the careers might not make it as long as they think."
"It's as good a plan as we've got," I admit, and Amerilia nods steadily. I can tell the only one who might need convincing is Nero.
"What if we kept our respective alliances, but both went after the careers," Nero suggest, "That way we won't be rushing them with a big group, but flanking their defenses instead."
"It's not like we can't do that as a unit," Amerilia says with a hint of scorn, "We'd still be at a disadvantage with all of four of us together, four on six? I'd say the odds wouldn't be in our favor, but we could still try."
"Whatever," Nero mumbles, "Just don't get me killed."
"It's settled then?" Daedrya asks, eyebrows raised.
"It's settled, the four of us are one now," I say, and with nods from everyone in the alliance, the fate of the careers has been sealed.
Maple Starr- District Seven
I'd make a safe bet, that if you were a tribute alongside me, you wouldn't know that I was part of these games. For most of training, I've been hiding, right in plain sight. I've been up in the rafters, concealing myself below stations and behind large platforms, completely absent from view. It's my strategy, seeing as no one will align with me.
Once Revolc joined the careers, I knew I couldn't trust him any longer. It may have angered Alfie and Rocky that I decided to suspend any advice from them, but Rocky's been focused on Revolc since he's gotten here, and I can't blame him. They are brothers. So, instead of feebly attempting to wield swords or run a gauntlet I know I'll lose, I've been relying on stealth and camouflage to get me through these games. I've learned how to hide amongst nearly every environment at the camouflage station, and I know what harnesses and knots to tie to keep myself sturdy in high places. I have all the assets I need to get through these games unnoticed.
That's how it was until five minutes ago, when the girl from Eleven approached me. She had seen me climbing the rafters, spying on the other tributes and cozening their items. Apparently I have the qualities needed in Eleven, I could easily pick the crops high up in the trees. The conversation was brief though, but she told me if I needed an ally I could come talk to her.
I've been bouncing it back and forth in my mind, what will become of my experience in the arena if I accept Amber's help. I would no longer be able to hide in some remote location and wait for the other's to kill one another, but I would have to make sure my ally and I would be protected at all times. It would be burdensome and weighty, the arena would become more onerous that expected. However, despite all of that, I find myself walking towards the fire-building station, where Amber is trying to learn how to keep herself warm.
"You've got a deal," I say briefly, startling Amber a bit and causing her to turn around rather fast.
"You mean it?" She asks, eyes lit up brightly.
"Sure I do," I say, "I don't want to do this alone." There's truth to my words. No matter how much I believed I could coast throughout this by simply hiding, I think I know deep down I would have eventually been discovered and easily killed. I don't want to die like that, begging for my life in some distant location. If I don't go back home, if I die in the arena alongside twenty-two others, I want to do it fighting alongside a friend, and Amber has given me that opportunity.
"Then we're partners," Amber says with a smile.
"Consider us friends," I say warmly, and Amber returns to bright gesture. Her warmth and appearance remind me so much of Johanna that it's hard not to hurt. My thoughts go back to home, where Benny, Johanna, and Vel are all safe with my mother and father. They need me to be strong, to put forth some sort of effort to come back home to them. If I didn't do anything but hide, and I managed to win, it wouldn't be deserving, I'd be known as a coward among victors, and it wouldn't bring my family pride or joy.
"Friends," Amber determines, and she calls me over to the station, showing me how to build a fire. I try to match her display, and the instructor gives me pointers on how to make a proper fire stay lit and create enough heat to keep you warm. I hope we won't need a fire though, because I'm not all that great at building them. Amber is pretty good though, another perk to forming an alliance. Sometimes, when you can't do something, someone else is alright at it, and it makes up for the things you can't do alone. I thought I could waltz right through these games without lifting a finger, but I know that's not the case. I've got to try to get back home, and thanks to Amber, I might get that opportunity.
Tatyana Gibbs- District Escort- District One
I can hear that positively pestering alarm blare, letting me know all the little brats will be coming back to their rooms soon. Today's been painfully long, and I quickly rummage through my handbag to find another pill before this room is once again inhabited by that boy and his whore. She thought she could get away, well guess what? The capitol got her right as she slunk into the shadows of District One, and now she's here. She probably deserves it, the skimpy little thing that she is. I can't stand kids, I really can't, they just think they're so deserving and everything should be handed to them. Well now they've all been given an all-expenses paid trip to the capitol, they should be happy!
Finding the bottle, I unscrew the capitol and pour one too many pills into my violet glove. Cramming the extra ones back in the bottle, I quickly slip the white tablet into my mouth and take a sip of champagne. I know you're not supposed to mix alcohol and medicine, but I really don't care. I think I might get drunk tonight; it'd make up for the lousy lunch Caesar put on. But it's ok, because everyone loves Caesar. Screw him and all the filthy money he makes. I know I can't complain, being the escort for One has a lot of perks, but I could do his job, anyone could, all you do is just ask a bunch of brats how they feel.
Interrupting my thoughts, Avery and Allure pop into the room at the same time, ruining my meditation. I wasn't really meditating, but they don't know that.
"Hey Tatyana, how was your afternoon?" Avery asks, flashing his white teeth. He's only known me for a few days, but he acts like we're the best of friends. Oh surprise, he's not wearing a shirt. Allure clings to his muscles, like some delusional kitten.
"Oh I had lunch with the other escorts, then I came back and chatted with Sapphire and Summer for a bit. Then the two of them and Cicero went off to the victor's lounge for a meeting, so now I think I'll get drunk," I say, recounting my day.
"Oh fun," Allure comments, giving her flowing blonde hair a twirl with her fingers.
"The funnest," I drone, growing bored by their presence. I've already done my job, so now I just have to wait out the duration of the games. Sure I love them, they're always quite a spectacle, but I get a different sense of satisfaction than the other escorts. They just think it's a sport, some sort of great game that calls for parties and feasting. It does call for all of that, but I love the Hunger Games for the actual design. Make twenty-four district born children fight to the death to remind the outliers of why they remain subservient, it's beautiful.
Avery and Allure run off, probably to go change into their training clothes. Crossing over to the bar, I pour myself a vodka and tonic, waiting for the carbonation to fizzle out of the additive. Taking a sip, I commend myself on the drink, and follow that one up with three more. Quickly, I'm rather inebriated and decide to kick off my heels and take a seat on the couch. The black leather feels marvelous on my barren feet, and I curl up in a ball and flick on the television, watching whatever program the capitol has picked out. I don't comprehend most of what's going on with the show, and soon slip into a deep sleep.
When I wake up, it's about an hour until dinner, and I can tell the victors aren't back yet. My slumber knocked off most of the stupor I was in, but I'm still a bit bibulous. I head back to the bar, hoping to replenish my alcohol count when I hear a faint noise upstairs. It sounds like it's coming from Avery's room, and I don't know what the boy is up to. Climbing the wooden stairs, not paying attention to the avoxes that await commands at the top, I sidestep over the large round door that marks Avery's room. I can hear faint moans, a woman's voice. Suddenly, the light bulb manages to click on in my foggy head, and knowing the code to follow through with, I heave open the door.
"Oh my God!" Allure shouts, quickly dismounting the boy. Avery sheepishly grins up at me, completely naked. Allure covers up her body, but Avery couldn't care less. I don't say much at first, but looking back and forth between the two of them, I know there's not much I can do.
"Put on some damn clothes," I spit, "Dinner's in an hour, please come down a bit more presentable than you are at the moment. I don't know if this has ever happened, but I'm sure Cicero will know the proper course of action." I pick his name because he's the most frightening of the mentors for One, and I hope horrid little images dance in their head. Turning on my bare feet, I slam the door shut, not caring what they choose to do now, knowing the victors will know exactly what to do with them.
Did I mention that I hate children?
Again, my apologies for the time it took to get this out. Updates will once again be frequent, now that I have all the time in the world on my hands. So, a lot happened this chapter! Auric convinced Omri and Caramen to join his cause, how will their alliance pan out? The flirtatious Sasha, rebel Aden, and scrappy Loot are now one, and the anti-career alliances have aligned. Plus, Maple found an ally in Amber, and put her previous plans to rest. However, the most shocking of all…what will become of Avery and Allure and how will Tatyana handle the situation? So much is going on now, so be sure to R&R! On to the Final Day of Training…this is getting intense!
-AdmiralBobbery