Author's Note & Disclaimer: Hi all. Apologies for the delay, I got a tad lazy & stuck on this chapter, but now that it's done the next couple should be in full swing. (I'm also no longer training for a marathon, so this helps.)
2) New poll is getting posted re: who your favorite tributes are so far. Thank you for all who submitted in my mentor poll. I'll leave this one up until the interviews. (aiming for less than 2 weeks)
3) Last and finally I still do not own the Hunger Games.
Training Day 2 – Lean and Hungry Nights
Gloria Leeper – District 12
"Look confident," Aphrodite's advice echoed in Gloria's ears as the girl smiled up at the other tributes at the edible plant station. She was becoming good at this, she realized, smiling, playing nice in her own corner of the arena. It was almost beginning to feel like a home away from home.
The only thing was, though, it wasn't home. Gloria knew that. Even now, in the security of the station, with primarily the younger tributes surrounding her, Gloria couldn't help but feel her knees shaking. It was the second day, the hours rapidly counting down to the arena.
"Damn," a curse interrupted her thoughts and she looked up to see a newcomer, the boy from 10, she thought. He'd been back and forth a couple of times, not seeming to be able to make up his mind whether he wanted to be here or there.
"What's wrong?" Gloria ventured. She'd said hi to him a couple of times during the past day as they seemed to be frequenting the same stations, survival based, but neither of them had figured out the words that came after that. What did you say to someone you'd be facing in the arena in just a few short days?
"Pricked myself," the boy replied, staring uncomfortably at his finger. Blood was trickling out of it. The wound certainly wasn't deep, but it was enough.
"Are you okay?" she asked. The boy was turning even paler than he already had been.
"I don't like the sight of blood," he said, his voice shaky. Gloria was worried he might pass out.
She could hear one of the other tributes scoffing in the distance. No doubt they thought he would be an easy kill, someone to bully.
"Don't pay any attention to them," she encouraged him, ignoring her racing pulse as she tried to ignore the snickers. Were they laughing at her too? Probably, Gloria was familiar with this. She put one of her small hands on the boy's shoulder. "Let's go sit down."
"That's right, go to the table. Enjoy your last couple days getting off your feet, because you're going to be soaked in blood soon enough. YOUR OWN." One of the girls from one was yelling from all the way across the training center. Gloria sighed, her eyes fighting the tears that longed to spill.
"Do you really have to get your pleasure from berating a 12 year old?" another voice came from over by the wrestling station. Gloria was shocked. Why would anyone bother to stand up for them?
She looked up to see who it belonged to, not knowing who to expect. Tanner might have been most likely, being her district partner, but she feared there wasn't any loyalty to her in him.
"Do you wanna fight instead. I don't think you stand much more of a chance than they do," the girl challenged. Unwisely, Gloria thought, as she looked up. The voice that had defended her didn't belong to one of the younger tributes as she had first thought, but the boy from 8. Leoric, she thought his name was. He took a couple of steps nearer to the blonde girl before Tanner got between them, urging the boy to keep his peace. Giving the girl one last look as one of the other Careers stepped in to deal with the blonde, Leoric returned to the station where they were and the training center settled down.
So that was who Tanner had meant last night when he had told Aphrodite he knew what he was doing. He seemed to have quite a group of his own there between the two boys.
And Gloria had no one, she thought miserably.
"You can go," the boy invited, his eyes downcast, maybe feeling the same things she had been.
"I needed a break too," she whispered, sitting in silence for the time being. He seemed to brighten a bit at this.
Nero Taplin – District 2
"You're over confident," Nero yelled, calling out Saphyra. "Do you want all of the tributes to think you're a bully who only takes on frightened children?" He could tolerate stupidity, he expected rash behavior, especially in the company he was keeping, but sheer bullying was intolerable. Saphyra had declared herself a target when she antagonized that boy from 10; Nero just knew it.
"We're careers, Nero. They should know they don't stand a chance. If that kid bleeds out now it'll just save him trouble in the long run," Saphyra blew him off. "And that dunce boy has it coming to him, I tell you. I can't believe he'd have the nerve to butt in."
"He did what any decent human being would have done," Nero objected. "He saw someone acting like a buffoon, abusing the little ones and he took the chance."
"That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard," a voice came behind them. Nero sighed. He really didn't need more opinions on this, especially another voice against him. He already was on a solid path to making an enemy out of Saphyra, something he'd never intended. Killian was also staring him down, perhaps in agreement, maybe out of sheer loyalty to his district partner, who could say. "Anyone in their right mind knows that it's kinder to shoot a wounded animal and be done with it than let it whine its brains out. It's kinder on the eyes and ears too," the dark skinned boy from four continued.
Nero sighed in defeat, unspeaking. The boy who had come up to them was Ibrahima, the boy from four and a powerhouse in his own right. Nero absolutely had no desire to challenge this boy who had already demonstrated his prowess at swimming. He suspected he could take him, but why make enemies already, especially when everyone else seemed to be eyeing him as a potential ally. The tension was becoming palpable.
"All right, I guess altogether it's not all that important what's said here," Nero conceded, stepping back, "besides in our alliances, that is. You treat the others the way you want to and I'll treat them as I will." The words left a bitter taste in his mouth , the image of his little sisters popping into his mind. His feet moved before he realized he wanted to leave, a subconscious impulse, perhaps.
"Where are you going?" Dane demanded.
"I'll be back.I'm just getting a little restless. You know, male instinct to go destroy something," he replied evasively. It wasn't a lie, Nero hadn't really been active yesterday, no one in the careers had. They were ready, after all. With a career pack already established, an increasingly large one if Killian was going to extend their invitation to Ibrahima as they'd discussed, there was little left for Nero to do besides strategize. In truth, though, the others didn't seem to see the need. They had already pinned a victor's crown on themselves.
That was the only trouble, though, Nero reflected, only one of them could win. And he needed this; his family needed this. He desperately needed to bring home to crown to bring his family out of poverty, to be certain they would never again want for anything.
He came to the obstacle course and knew he'd attained his goal.
The course was littered with huge boulders and abysses to simulate rivers, he supposed. A smile crossed his face. At last, a challenge. To some degree training had been altogether too easy so far. He felt prepared, as prepared as possible, but he didn't want to psych himself out.
Alert, and on his toes, Nero dashed forward, barely scaling the first bolder. He left himself more clearance as he picked up speed, easily clearing the next three and then straddling the first abyss. Two more obstacles and he would be there.
Then, just as he was about to leap over the next, the floor moved. Not much, in fact he thought he was imagining it until a pillar, one he hadn't even noticed as he'd been preparing for the course, teetered. He was directly in its path. He picked up speed, his breath rapid, his thoughts in a panic. Surely the Gamemakers wouldn't allow it to crush him, not before the arena. He cleared the pillar's final resting place with just miliseconds to spare before it fell.
Nero braced, expecting a great crash. There was none, only the sensation of his own body hitting the floor and a tremor that followed. He turned back, curious, yet afraid. The sight of the great pillar rising back to the ceiling met his eyes.
As he caught his breath, Nero looked up to see two tributes at the knot tying station, two of the 12 year olds. He remembered both of them from the Reapings. Glade hadn't wanted him to, but he'd watched the re-play with Echo on the train. The girl he'd remembered because they'd replayed highlights of her parents' games after the Reapings; the boy had stuck with Nero because of his reaction. He had smiled.
They were both even smiling now, tying knots as they chatted, almost unaware of the fallen Career before them.
Before anyone else noticed, Nero quickly dusted himself off and turned his back on these poor kids.
Then he found his place, the weapons station. His hands found a familiar weapon, his bow and arrow. Without hesitation he grasped the arrow and in a single fluid motion allowed it to fly, striking a bull's eye, sure, confident, straight to its mark. Nero smiled to himself. That was his path.
Nina Quivers – District 10
In, out. Nina couldn't even focus enough to shut her eyes. She wanted to move, she really did, but the only motion she could manage was back and forth and trembling.
It was all too overwhelming for thoughts. All of the other tributes, all so much bigger than she was, so much stronger, more talented.
And less frightened. Even the most terrified of them had more courage, more strength than she did.
She watched the second arrow that the boy onstage shot, unable to take her eyes away. It shivered in its target almost as much as she had, the forward motion from the boy causing enough energy to embed it safely into the target.
Safe. Nina could feel her mind shutting down as she thought about that word, safe, home. Her eyes filled with tears.
"Nina?" a voice questioned and she squeezed her legs even closer to her chest in the fetal position. It was the boy again, the boy from her district, but she couldn't look up. She couldn't even look him in the eye. Her breath came faster. In, out. She had to slow it down to keep from hyperventilating.
"Just . . .um . . . checking on you then," he backed up and Nina started to relax, just a tiny bit. He lingered, as though he wanted to say something more, but she couldn't. She tried to push herself further away only to feel the wall strong and persistent against her back. She audibly whimpered, but she didn't care. "Okay, bye," he waved awkwardly, sauntering away again. He looked over his shoulder once as he left, as if thinking she might follow.
She thought about getting to her feet, might have even tried to, she really couldn't tell. Her muscles had given up, though.
"What did you see?" a voice made Nina jump, squealing like a mouse. She buried her head in her hands again, her hair like a curtain shielding her face. "I'm not scary, really." It was a girl's voice, but Nina didn't know it. She hid, begging it would go away. "You just wish people would let you stay in your world, don't you?" the girl's voice broke in again, but Nina insisted on the darkness. "Come on, there's nothing to be afraid of."
"No," she whimpered, still remaining hidden, refusing to see the girl's face, denying everything around her. "You're wrong," she whispered, her voice trembling. "There's always something to be afraid of." Nothing moved. Nina knew the girl must still be there. She squeezed her eyes tighter, feeling her heart racing even faster.
"That's why you need your escape place. You can do it. The mind is a beautiful place. You just have to escape."
Nina could barely hear the girl over the pounding of her own heart, echoing like a timpani in the orchestra hall of her heart. Faster, faster. The pounding was making Nina's head split with pain.
"Focus. You can. . . I'm Candice. . . You . . . don't have to . . ." the girl's voice was fading and Nina could feel herself sinking. Was this death? It felt like sleep.
Leoric Hughes – District 8
"What are you doing, give her room to breathe! We need medical assistance here!" Leoric instinctively shouted. Even as he quickly strode to the unconscious girl's side he knew this was probably an error. He could feel the sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach as he tried to look rough, shoving the clueless girl from 9 to the side as he reached the hopeless girl from 9.
Poor kid, he thought to himself as he took in her condition.
He'd seen her yesterday and immediately picked her for the goner she was. After the first day only a fool would have tried to ally with her. Anyone in their right mind should have left her alone. Clearly that had been what she wanted, to live out her remaining days in fear, cowering by the wall because she physically, mentally couldn't even handle interacting with another human being.
And now it had nearly gotten the best of her.
She wasn't dead, he could see that already. Her breaths were shallow, but her heartbeat steady.
Now looking over her, Leoric wondered again why he'd dashed over here and cursed himself. Why did he have to go after the lost causes? He owed none of these tributes anything, not the ones who were being bullied and certainly not the ones who would be dead within the first few hours. He was only here for himself.
"Bro, what are you doing?" Brody voiced the thoughts in Leoric's head. That did it; he stood, backing away from the girl.
"Just wish I could put her out of her misery. Seems pretty pitiful," Leoric recovered with a scoff. It was true; if mercy had been the law of the land she would never wake from her slumber. What were the Gamemakers doing? He glanced up at them, waiting for someone to come to her aid, but no one came.
"Try these. I think they'll bring her around," a male voice came from behind him, extending a plant to him. The boy made no move to go forward himself, deferring to Leoric's perceived control of the situation.
Leoric sighed. There was quite a crowd of tributes gathering now, mostly the younger ones, but no one was making any moves to help.
"If you know so much, why don't you take care of her," Leoric hissed at the boy, not taking a step forward. It took him a moment, Leoric wasn't always good with faces, but he was relatively certain the boy was from 11. Surely he would have more knowledge of plants than he did.
"She responded to you," the other boy deferred. There was a tremble in his voice and Leoric wondered if this was anywhere near the truth. He hadn't noticed any change in the girl's behavior when he had approached. Surely the real reason was that the boy didn't want to be seen taking pity on a weak tribute. Neither did he, Leoric thought, but then again, everyone had already seen him. Maybe that could work to his advantage, lure the younger ones into thinking he wasn't a threat. That's probably what Cassius would have said.
Reluctantly, Leoric stepped forward again and held the plants up to the unconscious girl's nose. She breathed and then slowly came around. As soon as her eyes fluttered open, Leoric dashed away, back to Brody.
"Bro, that was soft," Brody scoffed at him. Tanner had his arms crossed beside him, a similar expression on his face.
"Say what you will," Leoric said, crossing his arms across his chest, "but I may have found us a new ally for the bro-liance."
"If you want to take on lost causes, the firing squad is out back," Tanner suggested, smirking.
"I didn't mean the girl," Leoric indicated. "I think I might have planted the seed for another ally." Leoric looked over his shoulder at the boy who was trying to stay under the radar, the boy who had handed the spotlight back to Leoric.
"I think he's name's Ridge," Tanner offered, understanding.
"I'll go talk to him," Brody offered.
"No," Leoric said. "Let me do it." The boys locked eyes for a moment and Leoric thought Brody might challenge him, might feel the need to somehow exert his dominance. Instead, after a moment, he broke off their staring contest and laughed.
"Bro-fecto, bro. Go plant browing brother."
Killian Odell - District 1
"Pitiful," Killian scoffed, polishing the sword he had been playing with. "I can't wait until these distractions are all done with."
"I say we're rid of them within 10 minutes of the start," Saphyra answered with a grin.
"The last time I saw something that helpless was when one of our newborn puppies wandered into the watering hole. It screamed for a minute or so before its mother came and got it," Ibrahima reflected.
It was the sort of conversation that Killian knew should have made his hair stand on end, his stomach squeamish. Killing children was one thing, it was their budding tradition, but speaking of innocent puppies nearly meeting their end would make any sane person cringe. Even Saphyra's face twisted slightly in discomfort at the thought, but not Killian. He could almost hear the puppy's whimpers if he thought about it hard enough. Perhaps that should have scared him.
"Hey, let up or they'll think we did that," Saphyra snapped suddenly, shoving him.
"What gives!" he demanded.
"Your hand," she hollered back. "You'd think you'd never held a sword before!"
Startled, Killian looked down. He hadn't even realized he'd been grasping the blade tight. A tiny speck of blood began to show from where his right hand was clenched.
"Break it up!" hollered a voice from above and all of the training arena hushed. Killian looked around, certain there had been a disturbance, but nothing. The four of them, looked around, puzzled.
"I will not name names, but no pushing, shoving or fighting before the arena. Let this be a reminder to all of you," the voice boomed out again and then went silent.
"That's what you call fighting!" Killian exclaimed, grasping his sword properly and circling around. "I haven't even begun to fight! Let's just start this right now! What do we need days for." He could feel the adrenaline rushing. He was ready. There was no response from his adversary. "Bring it!" he hollered.
"May I take this moment to point out the futility of your actions?" a pretentious voice said.
"Not this kid again," Ibrahima groaned, turning past Killian and walking away just a stone's throw. It was the boy from 7.
"It's something to do," Killian argued. "When you've been training as long as I have these days are just an excuse to watch the other pathetic kids try to make something of themselves."
"That was my conclusion precisely," the boy exclaimed. "I'm Jonas Tanner from District 7."
"Seven's not a career district," Killian scoffed. He knew the boy had volunteered, but he had supposed there was some reason. Maybe a relative had gotten reaped or something. Who knew what inspired someone like that. Perhaps the same fame and fortune that had gotten Killian himself there, only to a misguided degree.
"Perhaps that will change. I myself have been training intensely for my whole life and I couldn't feel more primed. Now, I have been weighing the prospects of an alliance with any number of individuals, but came to the conclusion that your group would be the best suited for my expertise. You will find me to be a formidable asset."
"That's enough of this!" Ibrahima exclaimed, suddenly losing his cool. "Are you trying to come in here and break up this alliance because I shunned you earlier or did you just fall for me like some lost puppy dog?"
"It would be a foolish, miscalculated, strategic blunder if you were to reject my offer," the boy insisted, keeping his cool.
"I'm going to teach you how to heel, boy," Ibrahima rushed in, his fist raised to strike. Just then there was a loud noise, a gunshot.
"The next tribute to threaten another in the training stage will have severe repercussions," a voice thundered from above. Then the lights went out.
Candice Graham – District 9
Candice was actually relieved. In the dark, among the fake trees, imagining there were stars above them instead of just the ceiling of the training center, it was easy to pretend, easy to forget.
Or at least it should have been.
"Something's wrong," Candice hissed, hoping Ailis was beside her as she had been before the lights went out.
"I'm certain whoever's closest to the circuits will fix it," Ailis assured her, but her voice sounded distant, as though there was something blocking it. "Probably just a power outage."
"No, I don't mean the lights," Candice corrected her. She knew darkness. She loved the night, the absence of light. It was in the darkness that fantasies could take wing, but this darkness was burdened with the heaviness of a nightmare. It was as though there was another presence, another consciousness, saturated with doom. "There's something evil, something that came with the darkness. We've got to get the lights back on."
"How do you propose doing that? I can't see my hand in front of my own face," Ailis observed.
"I don't know, but we just have to. Think about something light," Candice suggested.
"That's not going to work. I say we just stay here. They're bound to turn them back on eventually. Maybe they just did this to see how we think on our feet or something of that ilk. It's too early for the killing to start."
Just as Ailis said that, Candice felt something push her and a shiver ran down her spine. She screamed, wondering if anyone would hear her. It was becoming more and more difficult to speak, as though the air itself were becoming water.
"What?" Ailis asked and then she squeaked a muffled scream of fear.
"Sorry," came a female voice. "I just had to find the light-switch. I hate standing around and doing nothing. Do you think it's that way?"
"I really don't think that's a good idea. They'll get the lights on eventually."
"And I'll get them on sooner," the girl replied snappily.
"We'll go with you," Candice said suddenly. Her heart was pounding. They needed to get the lights on, it was more than a desire, it was a vital necessity. She couldn't explain why, but she suddenly thought this girl might be their best bet.
"All right, but don't slow me down," the girl agreed. "You coming too?" she asked Ailis.
"I suppose I ought to keep an eye on you two. Who are you, by the way?" Ailis asked awkwardly. She didn't really want to come with, but that didn't matter. What mattered was that she was coming.
"Freida, District four" the other girl replied. "I think we're going to the left."
"That would make sense," Ailis agreed. "We would have been facing the stage when the lights went out. Watch out for the fire station between us and the stage."
"That's perfect!" Candice and Freida said simultaneously.
They started out. Freida and Ailis in the lead with Candice trailing behind. After a few moments Candice felt her foot kick a piece of kindling.
"I think we've hit the fire station," she announced.
"Are either of you two any good at this?" Freida asked.
"I can do it," Ailis said. From the sounds of motion, Candice assumed Ailis was doing her best to light a fire, groping in the darkness for the kindling and the nest of grass and weeds she would need for a spark. Moments later, a spark was lit and a torch made.
"I wonder what everyone else is doing," Ailis mused as the light covered the immediate vicinity. They saw no one. Another shiver ran down Candice's spine. It was as though they were already alone in a tomb.
"Let's go," Candice suggested. The three girls resumed their path.
"It's there," Freida exclaimed. The box to the left of the stage. Now all they had to do was figure out what had happened. "I've got this," Freida declared, rushing to the box.
"Wait!" Ailis called out. "There's a wire loose!" Freida stepped back.
"Now what?" she asked. As if in answer, the lights flickered and sparked back to life. Candice breathed a sigh of relief. Whatever threat had been there in the darkness had vanished with the return of the light.
Jayanti Haeok – District 6
Jayanti hated that the lights were back on. He had thrived in the dark. In its embrace he had been invisible, had almost felt as though he were a validate human being. Now with the lights back on he was back in the training center, back among his superiors.
He scanned the area. It seemed that Tavia had snuck off while the lights had been off. He had been on her heels all day, saying little, but being there whenever she needed him. She'd tried to attract a couple of allies, he wasn't really certain who. The names and faces all blurred together when he was only there for someone else.
She'd had the wisdom to steer clear of the careers. He'd been grateful of that and none of them had been particularly young. He supposed he was trusting her judgment.
She'd been eyeing the blonde boy from 12 all day across the training center. Jayanti couldn't help but wonder if that was her main goal. It seemed as though the boy from 9 and that boy were summoning up an alliance that could have rivaled the careers. Would they really want the girl from 6 with them, though?
Jayanti stopped his train of thought. Maybe she didn't even want him with her. He'd considered that, of course, especially after she had ditched him yesterday, but where else was he to turn. He needed someone to tell him what to do. He needed to be useful somehow.
At a loss, he turned back to the snare-making station. Maybe knotting up some rope would force him to think straight.
"Can you teach me how to do those?" a voice asked. Jayanti thought he must be imagining things. Surely he wouldn't be worthy of drawing anyone's attention. His loneliness had certainly gotten the better of him and he was hallucinating.
"Seriously, those are really good. Can you teach me?" the voice asked again. This time Jayanti dared to look up. Another boy stood beside him. Jayanti wasn't sure which district he was from, but he seemed to be about his own age.
"I'm Ridge," he introduced himself.
"Jayanti," he replied hesitantly. The boy knelt down beside him and set to work crossing ropes the way Jayanti showed him.
"You're a fast learner," Jayanti complemented him as he completed his snare.
"I had a good teacher," Ridge replied as the trap enclosed its first victim, an imaginary rabbit. "Where do you want to go next?"
"Both of us?" Jayanti asked, startled that this boy would take him under his wing so quickly. Ridge just shrugged, carelessly.
Just then a boy came up to them.
"Excuse me, it's Ridge, right?" he asked, extending a hand. "I'm sorry, we didn't really have time to introduce each other earlier. I'm Leoric."
"Good to meet you," Ridge smiled. He extended his hand, but there seemed to be a part of him that was holding back. Was that why he had sought Jayanti out? To avoid further contact with this boy?
"What you did earlier was brilliant," Leoric continued. "Smarter than what I did. You assisted and I rushed in, blindly. We could use someone like you in our alliance."
"Who is 'we'?" Ridge asked, looking sideways at Jayanti. The other boy hadn't so much as glanced Jayanti's way yet. He was used to this, accustomed to borderline invisibility, but by Ridge's reaction this made him uncomfortable.
"They're calling us the 'bro-liannce'," Leoric admitted, a smirk on his face. "Tanner from district 12, myself and Brody from District 9. We'd love to add you to our number."
"This is Jayanti, from District 6," Ridge introduced him, sidestepping the question. "I think he'd be an asset to this alliance as well."
He was playing politics. Jayanti didn't like it and, judging from his expression, Leoric wasn't keen on what Ridge's words were implying: if he wanted Ridge, he'd have to take the other. He looked Jayanti up and down for a moment, then glimpsed the snare he had built.
"I think you may be right," Leoric assented, finally locking eyes with Jayanti. "I'd like both of you to consider joining our alliance."
"You don't have to check with the others?" Jayanti asked trepidly. He hadn't expected to be inducted into such a large alliance on just the word of a boy he barely knew.
"No, trust me. What I say will go," Leoric smiled holding his hand out to Jayanti. "If you're both in, let's go introduce you." And without further ado, it seemed settled and Jayanti followed Leoric and Ridge to the other side of the training center.
Elric Trace – District 5
Elric stood up, satisfied as the hammock he had just constructed swung back and forth, enough to lull someone to sleep. He had seemed a natural at this, but he wanted to try a few more stations before the day was out. Perhaps someone would even take notice of him.
So far the only person he had managed to attract in the training center had been Altair. She didn't really count, though, being his district partner. She hadn't asked him to ally and somehow he didn't believe she would. So unless he could find someone to take him under his wing within the next day he was on his own.
He found himself looking at the stage, contemplating the weapons on the stage. He wasn't ready for this. There had to be somewhere else.
Then he spotted it. Just behind the curtain there was another table with a screen on it. It seemed as though it had been abandoned or none of the other tributes had noticed it. There were records lying by a screen, each with a number 1 – 17. They were records of the previous games, Elric realized. The fourth games, the one Allorea had won, was placed on top. Shouldn't they have been in order? Had someone gotten here before he had? Or had that one been specifically place?
Hesitantly, Elric placed the disc into the device. Immediately the capitol anthem popped on the screen. Afterwards followed the highlights of the fourth games. He had no memory of these games; he'd barely been alive when district five's only victor had won the crown. It was something no one in their district spoke of. Surely it was because of Allorea's reclusive state, her withdrawn attitude.
Then he saw her face on the screen. It must have been her interview. The interviewer was in tears.
"He's not a rebel. I would do anything to convince you all," she was saying in a voice so much stronger than any he'd heard his mentor use before.
"What did you find?" a girl's voice came from behind him. It matched Allorea's so well in command and confidence that Elric almost thought he was mixing the past and present. But he turned around and there was a dark haired girl who looked to be around his same age.
"Hello, I'm Elric Trace, district 5," he said instinctively. It astounded him how someone could sneak up on someone and not introduce themselves. Even in the Hunger Games there had to be some order and respect. He had automatically extended his hand to her, a reflex, and at last she shook it, hesitantly.
"Margery Kelta, 8," she responded. "What did you find?" she repeated, impatiently.
"Records of all the past games," Elric answered. "I thought they might give me a strategic advantage."
"For the interview section?" the girl asked skeptically.
"Can't hurt to be prepared."
"Which one is this?" the girl asked curiously.
"The fourth."
"Going to try to get through all of them before tomorrow night? That would be a task indeed. How did you even find this station? I haven't heard anyone talking about it." She asked in wonder. That practically confirmed Elric's suspicion.
"I suppose I just got lucky," he responded as two of the other tributes were set in hand to hand combat on the screen.
"I wish I could do that," the girl whispered in awe. "They both look so graceful, so controlled."
"They certainly have a certain charm," Elric agreed. It was true, he supposed. Even though this had been an early games, there were still a handful of tributes who had some sort of training. Then they had mostly been rebels, though, who had fought in the war, rebels who had had no chance of winning the victor's crown. The two on the screen now lay lifeless. Then he saw the younger Allorea draw a bow and arrow.
"She was trained!" Elric couldn't help exclaim as she shot with deadly accuracy, shooting her way to the victor's crown. If Margery hadn't been standing there he would have turned the disc off, unwilling to believe his eyes. Could Allorea have been lying the entire time? Had a rebel's daughter won the fourth hunger games?
"Wouldn't she have told you that?" the girl pried. "That's your mentor, isn't it?" Elric only nodded. "You should ask her advice. Get her to help you before it's too late."
"I'll get it out of her tonight," he said, determined. The girl was looking at him intensely, debating, yet she said nothing. Elric shifted in his shoes as her gaze began to make him uncomfortable. "What?"
The gong sounding the end of the training session sounded, much to Elric's relief.
"Well, I guess I'll see ya," he bid her farewell her.
"Will you work with me tomorrow?" she asked, suddenly grabbing his arm just as he was supposed to go. "It's just, it's the last day and I'm not really sure I've found any allies yet."
"Yeah," Elric nodded, brightening. That must have been her hesitation. She was probably just as nervous as he himself was. After all, the choice to ally wasn't an easy one.
"Hey, eight, keep sharp. I'll take you tomorrow," a girl's voice sounded out and the rough looking girl from 11 passed them. Elric gulped hard. Had he just lost his ally?
"Relax," Margery smiled as the intimidating girl disappeared. "She's taking both of us. I'll see to it."
He couldn't be sure, but as they parted ways, Elric thought he saw one of the little girls sneaking towards the station he had just left, the station behind the curtain.
"Sleek-headed men and such as sleep o' nights;
Yond' Cassius has a lean and hungry look;"