"Sapphire Camill, District One with an astonishing ten!" Caesar narrated excitedly. Denim got an eleven, as was the norm for Careers. Both kids from District 2 got 9's, and it went on. Denim's score was still the highest at eleven and the 9 girl the lowest with a score of three.

"Jay Wright, District Eleven with the marvelous score of eight!" Caesar and Claudius said in unison. Vinyel started to clap first, the stylists following lead. Annabelle remained silent, but still had a smile of approval on her face.

"What'd you do to get that?" Gryffon whispered, glancing at Jay. Apparently the question came out more bitter and taken aback than he meant it to be, because Jay only answered him with a scowl and a purse of her lips. He rolled his eyes and brought his gaze back to the screen as his name and district was announced.

"Gryffon Sauntor, District Eleven with a five!" Oh, hah, it was higher than he expected it to be, but still three points lower than his less-able district partner. The light of laughter that showed in Jay's eyes clearly wrote out her triumph, and when Vinyel was the only one to give a hesitant clap, Gryffon felt the annoyance from the private session rise up again. He would have gotten a higher score than Jay if he had managed to do what he had envisioned. Fuck his team, fuck Jay. They didn't know anything.

"What'd you do to get that?" the girl mocked, smirking at him quickly before getting up, not even bothering to watch the rest of the scores. "Night everybody," Jay breathed, though instead of turning toward the rooms, she pivoted to the elevator. Gryffon stared after her, a reproachful look entering his eyes. What the hell was her problem? He stirred to go after her, but Annabelle's hand held him back. He shot her a look, one that was made up of betrayal and annoyance, but when she shook her head for Gryffon to back off, he turned toward the rooms and hid there until morning.

Gryffon blinked a couple of times, refocusing on the bright lights that smeared themselves over him. "Excuse me, what did you say?" he asked seriously, meeting the dark eyes of the host who sat across from him. The man let out an amused laugh, shaking his head and gesturing toward the boy with a stupid grin on his face.

"Something on your mind?"

"Sort of," Gryffon forced himself to laugh, hoping to sound genuine. "I still haven't gotten over all this noise. Guess it's just hard to focus on one thing." Excuses, excuses . . . At least it was a good one. District 11 had curfews and were fairly strict on the amount of noise caused by the kids at work. The district itself was just a wide expanse of tense land with tense people over it; a cluster of babbling voices wasn't something he was accustomed to. If it was bird song, then it'd be a different story, but it wasn't. It was laughter, comments, the ecstatic buzz of excitement. Basically the air was full of Capitol zeal.

"Ah, yes," Caesar laughed again, his green lips parting again as he continued. "Well, it's great to finally meet you, Mr. Sauntor." Before going on, the host sucked in a bit of hair through his teeth and raised a brow at the boy. "Ah but that score, my boy. I hope that was on purpose and you have something up your sleeve."

Wow, way to be blunt, Flickerman! Gryffon swallowed and tried to push away the uneasy feeling stirring in his belly. Holy shit, how was he supposed to . . . Breathe. He just had to breathe and he'd be fine. Calm down. He had everything under control.

"Of course I do," he claimed, when it was obvious he hardly had any idea of what he was supposed to do after setting foot in the arena. "I wouldn't shoot so high if I didn't have things planned, now would I?" Gryffon challenged with an inquisitive smirk and a tilt of his head. As long as he tried to play this out as a joke, he'd be fine. Keep the confidence and strength up. Don't show his weakness, don't show his discomfort.

"Oh, good," Caesar sighed with relief. "There are high hopes in the minds of your betters, you see; I couldn't imagine seeing them so disappointed with their great wishes for you."

Gryffon chuckled at the comment and nodded in understanding. "Good, good, but I don't plan on disappointing anyone," he shrugged as he restrained the urge to acknowledge the reassurance of having sponsors. "Ah, speaking of which," he smiled, then continued seemingly without a care, "they all might as well turn their precious little heads toward District Eleven this year."

Caesar laughed at the boy's confidence and the audience seemed to join in, but all Gryffon could hear above his own heartbeat was the faint, possibly nonexistent timer ticking in the background. It was so distracting . . . It was a surprise Gryffon caught the host's next comment: "How far would you say you and your sister would go in the arena? As far as the rest of us have seen, you have heavy competition from the Career districts."

Oh, Gryffon had absolutely no clue . . . He wanted to turn around and catch Jay's eyes, but he had to hold his facade in place and answer the question on his own. How am I supposed to know? She didn't even confirm or decline our alliance . . . How am I supposed to be sure we're even together . . ? It wouldn't make sense if they weren't, though. This whole sacrifice would have been for nothing and Jay would be the one with the reason. Gryffon couldn't let that happen. Not when he blatantly put everything at stake for the sake of her ingratitude. "I would hardly call them competition, Caesar," Gryffon stated instead, completely ignoring the first question. "This year's Careers are just a school of fish out of water, if you ask me."

"Well . . . You can't speak for all of them," Caesar reminded him for there was District 1 and 2 with the crazies. The host pointed at Gryffon and pulled out his next question. "Word on the street says you had a little bit of Peacekeeper training back at home. Is this true?"

Gryffon scoffed and shook his head. "Now, Caesar, I would hardly call it that," he started, blinking once. Should he say anything . . ? How much would his mother and his siblings get penalized at home for making it known to the whole of Panem that their father was a Peacekeeper? Excuses excuses . . . Always a lie. He was lucky enough to still have his proud smirk on . . . How long could he keep making things up? "It was observe and copy, ya' know?" Okay, that could work. "Anyone could have taught themselves if they wanted to . . . "

By the look in Caesar's eyes, Gryffon saw he had managed to halt the host, and inwardly, he thanked everything he could. Good, he couldn't get trapped this time . . . "That is true," Caesar agreed with a slight nod. "And with your occupation in Eleven, I'm rather frightened of the idea of you throwing a punch."

They were all just a band of stalkers . . . How would Caesar have any idea of his job? Unless he was just guessing? Most of the jobs available in Eleven were heavy jobs, anyway; even climbing the trees took strength and stamina. Unless really young or old, Gryffon would be surprised to find anyone any less able than Jay's lithe and swift form. "Ah, well, I suppose you can see it starting tomorrow," Gryffon said with a slight shrug, almost uncaring at the fact the Games started in less than a day. The reality hadn't caught up with him yet, only the most immediate emotions: slight anxiety and confusion.

"Yes, yes, of course," he nodded. "How close are you to Jay by the way? I'm only wondering because you volunteered after she was reaped," Caesar jumped right ahead. Oh crap . . . He wasn't going into this now . . .

25

24

23

Tick tock tick tock - he hadn't much time left, anyway. His mental stopwatch warned him of that.

"We're like siblings, Caesar, what do you think?" Gryffon retorted lightly with a half smile. "I wanted to take her place . . . You be the judge of the closeness." They only knew each other for three years, and even if it was a one-sided sort of affection, Gryffon loved her like a sister, he assumed, and could just barely accept the thought of her dead.

17

16

15

"Well aren't you a gentleman," Caesar complimented. "I hope the two of you last long in the arena. So I'll be assuming you two will stick in an alliance in the arena . . ?"

"For as long as we can be in one, yes," Gryffon stated with conviction. "It'd be pointless not to be . . . " Since I did this to stay with her to begin with, he finished bitterly in his head. It seemed like Jay hadn't yet gotten that through her head . . . Perhaps Caesar could catch on faster, though, whether or not Gryffon said it?

9

8

7

Gryffon tried hard not to grimace when the audience cooed after their long stretch of silence, and watched as Caesar opened his mouth to say one last thing right when the timer went off, nearly making Gryffon jump out of his seat. "Ladies and gentlemen, Gryffon Sauntor of District Eleven," Caesar dismissed with a great sweep of his hand. The tribute heaved in a breath and pulled a smile on with it. Thank god it was over . . .

"You both did wonderful," Vinyel cooed over dinner as he reached over to pile more gravy over his food, most of which was unidentifiable at that point by the amount of sauce over it.

"Mhm," Jay smiled, but shot Gryffon a look. "Although . . . You could have played it out less, you know. You looked so . . . childish." Annabelle fixed her tributes with a hard stare, analyzing the both of them, but coming to sort of conclusion. They were hopeless . . . But neither seemed to realize that. They just poked and prodded at each other like it wasn't going to affect them in only a few hours.

"I was making your smartassery seem a bit more appealing," Gryffon retorted through gritted teeth without looking at his adoptive sister. "I don't see why I have to act all angry, or like such a knowitall. You played the part just well . . . Let me act how I wish without having to follow your lead." He scooped up a bit of his dessert into his mouth as she scoffed and leaned back in her chair, turning her head to her districtpartner.

"You're as appealing as a dead snake," Jay shook her head. "And possibly just as smart. All the Careers are going to be on our backs now . . . If you had just stayed subtle like I asked you to . . . "

"Yep. And I would have bored the sponsors to death like you did," Gryffon cut her off. He stood up and pushed his chair back under the table, glancing down at her. Her eyes stood around level with his lips, which made her have to tilt her head up ever so slightly to meet his glare, both equally surprised to find the other appearing so calm. "I'm trying to help you, Jay. But if you insist on being as ignorant as my dad, then so be it. If you die in the next week, it's not going to be my fault," he hissed through gritted teeth before turning around and disregarding the beckons of the rest of his team.

"If you're my guardian, then you'd 'protect' me whether or not I want you. It wouldmost certainly be your fault," Jay called out insistingly before he could even enter his room.

As soon as the door closed behind him, Gryffon let out a huff of frustration and grabbed the thing closest to him - the remote to the holographic window - and threw it in the first direction he faced, making it skid over the bed and land on the other side of it. Why did she change so fast . . ? Gryffon ran a hand over his face and pulled back on his hair, groaning with annoyance. "She was supposed to be the weak one . . . The one scared . . . The roles shouldn't be switching right now . . . It was always that way . . . Why change now?"

"Alick, please don't - "

"You have no say in this, be quiet."

Gryffon stared up at his parents as they quarreled, not entirely sure as to what was going on. He glanced down at his sleeping brother snuggled warmly in his arms, partially glad the kid was asleep so he wouldn't have to hear this, despite being so young.

"I don't make the orders, I only follow them."

"What if it was us, Alick? Would you rid two children of their only parent?"

At that, the man froze as he was pulling a glove on. He had been away at the Capitol for a week, having returned only three days ago, and within the time he was gone, there had been a few rule changes in the district. Curfew had been pushed forward another hour but security had risen, and everything seemed to have become stricter.

"I wouldn't deny orders."

The answer was yes.

Gryffon looked toward his mother, watching as the tears began to roll down her cheeks. "Mama, what's going on?" he asked the woman, disregarding the fact that his father was only a few feet from him. He had learned not to address the man, and as much as he didn't like his mother, he at least got calm answers from her. Pulchra simply shook her head, glaring at her husband as he slammed the door behind him after he left.

"It doesn't involve you, Gryffon." Of course it didn't. It never did. But it also always did. Somehow, it always did. He turned his head toward the door, his eyes narrowing.

"Where's he going?" Pulchra didn't provide an answer, she just turned toward her first-born and scooped the one-year-old out of his arms before turning away toward the living room. Without saying a word, Gryffon jumped up from his seat and rushed out of the house, following the sound of quietly chattering voices. The Square, that's where Alick was going.

He immediately figured out what his mother was protesting about. Another lashing, another rule broken. What was it that time? Did someone wake up too early? Gryffon shrugged through the crowd just as his father arrived at the center of the Square, getting one of the clearest views of the middle. There knelt a shirtless man, shackled to a large pole, already bleeding from his temple and lower back.

"This man was caught stealing at the market this morning - "

"Please, sir, my kids, they need - "

"Did anyone ask what your kids need?" Alick cut off, kicking the man's side. "You either pay for what you steal, or your children can starve with your corpse."

"Sir, please, don't condemn my - " Another groan of pain left the man's lips as Alick's foot met his jaw this time, followed by a distressed squeal of "Papa!" and the shrieking cry of a baby. Alick unhinged the whip at his belt and ran a finger over it, quickly scanning the edge of the crowd. His eyes locked with Gryffon's for a moment before they moved on, again halting at the source of the crying. The green glare blinked back down at the man as his arm lifted, the black leather of the whip gleaming in the sun before it came down on the man's back.

It went down all forty-three times full-force until Alick got bored. "Children, come here," he beckoned, motioning with his less-bloodied glove for the two crying kids. A small-statured girl stepped out of the crowd, a baby no older than one cradled in her arms, wailing as if she was the one getting licked. The older of the two, the one with the unusual blonde hair, had a river of tears streaming down both cheeks and her lips were quivering, as if still whispering "papa, papa, papa" over and over desperately.

"Let this be a lesson to you two, okay?" Alick's voice was fatherly, it was wise. He was using a tone he seldom used with his own kids. "If you expect to get away with lies and betrayal without a consequence," he started, taking his gun from its holster at his side and lifted it so its barrel faced the girls' father's head, "then be ready to receive one hell of a whiplash. Understood?" He looked toward the older girl, his glare hard on her. "Understood?" he repeated more firmly, making the girl shake harder than she already was.

"Y-yes . . . Yes, sir," she barely squeaked. The trigger was pulled and the girl let out a scream as loud as her sister's when her father's head was blown off.

All he needed was a reason to blow up . . . He just needed one little spark to lose it all like the one who raised him . . . He didn't understand her, and he didn't expect to get an understanding anytime soon. It wouldn't be hard to kill her at the bloodbath . . . But he knew he wouldn't be able to. His sister? Imagine. Next to Stephen, she was the one person he knew he loved . . . Or thought he did. Loyalty is one stubborn bitch - and you best stick true to that bitch, Gryffon reminded himself, swallowing down his frustration. He had already sworn her life above his own, but perhaps promises were easier to break than loyalties . . . Her links were already weak and they bound her to him . . . Wouldn't take much to break that . . . All she needed to do was steal something precious . . . And . . . What the hell am I doing? Gryffon shook his head and dropped back down on the bed, shaking his head. "I'm tired . . . and scared . . . She is, too. It's not her fault."