Chapter Thirteen.
Training - Day Two.
Oliver Craddocks; 16 years old.
District Nine Male.
With every minute that he spent there, Oliver was becoming more confident about what he had to do. Like every other game in his life, he had learned the rules and now, he was ready to play. Almost. During the past days, Oliver had watched the other tributes move around, some excited and some scared, but all with one goal in mind. To win, but to be able to do that, someone to watch their back was necessary. Oliver had realized that all of them had a role in the upcoming Game, including himself.
Some would lose, and some wouldn't even get the real chance to play. Some would be heroes and when they died, their families would be proud of them and would remember them for as long as they lived. Oliver also wanted that, but there were other parts of him, other parts that were much stronger than it. The part of him that was determined to survive didn't care which role he would play, villian or hero, as along as he made it back home. Oh, and he would.
His mothers believed in him, they had given him everything that he needed to grow up big and strong, and now it was time to pay them back. It was time to show everyone in District Nine that they had done everything right, unlike many people thought that they would. Maybe his real parents would be watching, knowing the son that they had left behind so many years ago, and they would regret it. They would regret leaving him.
Oliver vowed that he would. He owed it to the scared little boy that he had left behind at the orphanage the day his mothers had picked him up, and owed it to himself too. He would make them regret that they doubted that he was anything but the best of the best.
For the past two days, Oliver had tried everything. From spears to swords, from making a fire to climbing, he had tried all of them. Of course, he wasn't perfect at it just yet. But before Oliver Craddocks became the best of the best, he had to work hard. Work hard everyday, and turn the pain into the power that made him who he was. Looking over to the archery station, he noticed Niamh, trying her best to teach her new allies how to properly hit a target.
It would have been a smart bet to ally with her, his mentor had said. When Niamh had found her allies, and it was decided that District Nine wouldn't be working together this year, Oliver had decided that he didn't need her. Let her have her little friendship with District Twelve, because Oliver would get better. But most of all, he knew better. He knew that there was no place in the Games for a friendship, but there was a place for an alliance.
A temporary agreement between two people, but in the end, only one could win. Like in any other good game, the winner needed to know his enemies before striking. And Oliver had been, for the past day that he had been here, watching every single person that would be going into the arena with him. All of them, from the Careers to Niamh's allies, knew how to do something. But not all of them had what Oliver was looking for.
A meat-shield. Someone he could trust to watch his back in a fight, but someone that he wouldn't hesitate to throw in front of him when things got rough. The boy from Ten, like Niamh had suggested. He looked tough enough, but from the expression that he made everytime that someone turned down his offer for an alliance, Oliver could see the true. He was weak. He needed someone to care for him, someone to approve his every move.
That was what Oliver do. He would pretend to be a friend, pretend to care about the boy, and he would build it from there. And when the time came, Oliver wouldn't hesitate to do whatever was necessary, not even if he had to drive his sword throught the boy's back. So be it. Would people look at him as a villian? Maybe. Nice guys always finish last, his mother had told him once, when he was still a little boy with dreams of castles and knights.
She always told him the truth, instead of letting him be blinded by the old stories. Nice people didn't get what they wanted, because they were not willing to make sacrifices for the greater good, to get to their goal. People that were willing to make sacrificies for what they want, willing to sacrÃfice friend and foe, those were the ones that got what they wanted.
A game that could end his life, but it was still just a game. A game that had rules, multiple players and possible endings. The chance of death was just a possible ending, one that Oliver would never have to consider. Back in District Nine, he did everything to win every game that he got into; Cheated, manipulated, and threw people out of their high horse. Why should the Hunger Games be any different?
After almost knocking another dummy down with his sword, something caught Oliver's attention across the room. His future ally had knocked his district partner's attempt to throw a knife, and right now, the girl was anything but happy. Go to him. Get his trust, get him on your side.
Oliver waited, tiping his fingers and watching his sword. It had been a bit heavy at first, but Oliver had gotten used to it. The steel had a dark beauty to it, but it was something that Oliver enjoyed. Soon, it would be an extension of his arm, and he would be using it to do whatever he needed to do. When he felt something that he didn't want in the arena, the sword would remind him of who he was. He was better than all of them, much better. While they worried about getting an alliance, Oliver was worried about learning how to throw a knife or how to build a fire.
He worked, he struggled, and that would always be the thing that kept him on the top, as the very best.
Once the red-head and her ally left, Oliver got closer, so he could see the boy's expression. He passed the knife from one hand to another, but when the trainer started to rant that he should either do something or leave, Coulter threw the knife. It wasn't close to a bullseye, but it actually stuck. Impressive, though. Very impressive indeed.
"Excellent work over there. I have been watching this station for a while, and besides the Careers, no one actually managed to make it stuck. I did, but hey, it's still an impressive move." Once Oliver started talking, the boy looked like he had seen a ghost, and blushed deep red.
"I-it's n-not r-really a-anything impressive." Oliver noticed how the boy never lifted his eyes to look at him, not even once. He knew that people in District Ten didn't really have the best manners, but this was a bit rude, if he came to think of it.
"Oh, it is. You're one of the strongest guys around here, too. I mean, look at you. I still wonder what they give you in Ten to make you grow up so strong. Must have something to do with all the animals." Again, the boy didn't looked at him once.
"I-I'm n-not t-that s-strong. M-my b-brother i-is t-the s-strong o-one i-in the f-family." The family, the emotional connection to his home, that was something that Oliver could use. He could make the boy believe that it was something that they would bound over, and then, he would strike.
"Your brother, uhm? I don't have any siblings, but sometimes, I kinda wish I do, you know?" It was a lie, of course, but a necessary one. "It's always nice to have someone to watch your back when things get rough. Kinda hard to have one with two mothers, though." Oliver hoped that it would be enough for the boy to get the hint. The hint that he wanted to have someone to watch his back.
"M-mothers, ah? M-my d-district p-partner L-Leila has a g-girlfriend t-too. M-maybe y-you s-should a-ally with her." Say it. Say it and he'll be all yours. Say it.
"I don't want her. Guys like you and me should stick together, you know? The best guys around here should get together. We'll show them that together, we can beat anything. I'll have your back if you have mine. What do you say?" For the first time since Oliver had arrived in there, Coulter glanced up to look at him.
"You a-and m-me?" He asked, as if he didn't believe that someone like Oliver would want him as an ally. That someone like Oliver, who was one of the best, would ever look at someone like Coulter was truly a miracle. This would have consequences in the future, but he would deal with them when he got home, safe and sound.
This was just a part of the game, something that Oliver had dealt with before, and that he would have to deal with again if he wanted to survive. He didn't mind being the villian, not really. Not there. Not today. "You and me together, the strongest guys around here, what do you think we can do? We can help each other. If one of us doesn't make it home, the other can make sure they will."
Coulter grinned, from ear to ear, and nodded. "O-of course. I'll do my best t-to m-make sure I-I won't slow you down." Oliver kicked him lightly in the stomach, like he used to do to his best friend Ethan. Only that this wasn't District Nine, and this boy wasn't Ethan. He was just a meat-shield that Oliver would use when the time was right. Maybe grow to know more about him, Oliver didn't care. Whatever he did, this boy would always be a way of saving Oliver's life.
All of them would.
Brooke Devoir; 16 years old.
District Eight Female.
Brooke was alone, like she always had been, but training hadn't been a complete disappointment. She had learned what she could or could not do, and also taken advice from the others. She watched how the Careers moved, how easy it was for them to throw a knife or win a combat fight, and then she went from there. Of course, it wasn't easy. But Brooke had always worked better under pressure, even more than her own life was in danger.
Working was a way to keep herself busy, and the only way that Brooke had found to escape this place. Even if it was only for a while, this was the only way. When she worked, focusing on the best way to throw a knife or to shot an arrow, Brooke could almost pretend. She could pretend that she was back home, with the life that she had made for herself and worked so hard to built. That she wasn't here, where her life could be taken away from her at any moment.
Brooke always knew that she wasn't a good person. She had tried to ignore it before, pretending that she was as good as the people that she surronded herself with, but that had to stop. In here, she felt like she was back in the streets of District Eight. Alone and scared.
To hell with anyone that thought otherwise, because Brooke was afraid. She felt her hands tremble every time that she thought someone was going to approach her for an aliance, and when they ended up only wanting to train in the same station that she was in, all she could feel was dissapointment.
Brooke would never admit it, she wasn't a weakling and would rather die than admit it, but she needed someone. She needed someone in District Eight, when all she had was herself in the cold and hard nights, and she had never gotten anyone. Not even her own mother had come to say goodbye to her, when she was possibly never returning to District Eight again. It was easier to pretend that she was made of iron, than to admit that she craved to have someone on her side.
To have someone to praise her for how hard she worked, or to tell her that she should be proud of herself. When she looked around, when she saw all those tributes with someone by their side, Brooke wanted that. She wanted someone to have her back in the arena, and someone that she could fight it. No, no. She shaked her head, almost dropping the knife that she had been working with. You only have yourself, and if you don't remember that, you'll be dead as soon as the gong sounds.
No, she couldn't. One day at a time, Brooke reminded herself. Right now, she was in training, and the goal was to learn as much as she could and possibly get an alliance. Possibly. But who? Who could she choose? Back home, Brooke had been alone for most of her life. But when she made a name for herself, when she truly became someone, she surronded herself with people that could cover up what she couldn't. In there, she would have to follow the same rules.
There were the ones that she would stay away from, even if she had to walk alone into that arena. They were the people like her mother, the ones that were weak, and didn't even try to act strong.
Not even when their life depended on it. It was only by then that Brooke realized that she wasn't alone in the knife throwing station anymore. The trainer wanted to help her, but Brooke had refused the first time. Tributes were watching, and if she had the trainer doing everything for her, then she wouldn't get anywhere.
"The Careers" consisted of the girls from One, Two and Four and the boys, but they were no where to be seen. The girls from One and Four talked quietly when they decided to work, while the girl from Two kept to herself. All that Brooke was that they threw a knife as easily as they were able to talk. Taking her strenght from there, Brooke picked up another knife. She might have been from District Eight, but that didn't mean that she was less than any of those girls.
Brooke aimed at the target, knife already in hand, and threw but not with too much strenght. If she threw it with too much strenght, it might not stick in the target. Right now, she didn't want it to hit a bullseye or anything, she just wanted prove that her training in the past day had worked for something.
It stuck, not too much above the dummy's heart, closer to the throat. Yes, that was good. With the second knife, she aimed a little bit higher, and throwed, with a little more of strenght. Those were the advices that the trainer had given her once she had arrived in the station. First, she had to throw a little bit slower and focus on the aim. And when she started to get better, she could focus on how much strenght she wanted to use.
Yesterday, Brooke had only managed to hit the target twice. But now, that she was getting better, she could possibly start to work on maybe working the bullseye. To her right, the Career girls were having some sort of twisted competition, to see which one of them could hit the target without ever missing.
"Idiots. I would be as good as them if I was a Career." The girl to her left was tal, with long black hair, tied in a braid. Brooke couldn't say that she recognized her from the reapings. "You're not so bad yourself, though. I've been watching, and you managed to do a pretty good job with those knives."
"And you are..?" Brooke glanced at girl, feeling a little proud that she stood taller than the other girl, even if she looked older.
"Someone who would probably be interested to join you. But back home, I was known as Katarina Morellee. You can call me Kat, though." She extended her hand, for Brooke to shake. "It's nice to meet you, District Eight." Brooke wanted to shake it, but a strange feeling had placed itself on her stomach and right now, it was telling her that this girl was no good for an ally. Back home, when had no one to trust, Brooke only had herself. And that feeling in her gut always told her if the person was worthy trusting or not.
Right now, it told her that the girl wasn't worth trusting, but it was also the best chance that she had at an ally so far. "If you don't want to keep calling me District Eight, I'm Brooke."
Katarina raised an eyebrow. but quickly laughed. "No last name?" Her last name was the only thing that tied her to her life back in District Eight, to a foster family that would probably never care if she lived or died. Right here, it didn't matter.
"Does it matter? We're all here for one thing, after all. Winning." Before the girl could say anything else, Brooke stopped her. "So, what do you want?"
Katarina picked up a knife of her own, and thrilled it between her fingers, pretending to think of the right words to say. Brooke recognized that trick, since it was one that she had used more than one time back home. Don't like in the eye of the person that you're about to lie to. " You look nice, you know?"
Brooke wanted to let her continue, but she couldn't resist. Not here, where those Careers bitches were probably hoping that the two of them would break down in tears. "Sorry darling, I'm straight. Or at least I was, back home." She was not lying, just picking her words very carefully.
"Before you stopped me, I was going to say that you looked nice enough and you don't seem to have allies, so I thought why not? You'repretty capable with those knives, and you're strong, in both ways. It seems that we have a lot in common. You're a survivor." Yes, they did and that girl seemed to be picking up the pieces already.
"It takes one to know," Brooke replied. " But I'm not allying with someone if I don't know what they can and can not do."
Katarina was all smiles and nods by now, but Brooke knew that there was something much deadlier hidden in there. The best of them, the strongest had to wear a mask to hide their true feelings.
When people looked at them, they saw all the beauty and rage, but they didn't saw the iron underneath. "I know my way around a sickle and like you might have seen yesterday, I also know how to work with knives. And I can surely tell you, I won't stop when I have to kill. You can be sure of that." Brooke nodded, knowing that she had two seconds to decide. She was strong, just like Brooke, but she wasn't completly made of iron. She could see that now.
And if two people that had survived for so long joined, what could they possibly do? "Very well. I won't hesitate, either. You should know that I have been training to kill my enemies."
"That was exactly why I picked you. Although we might consider having someone else in our little alliance, since the others are getting too big. but we'll see. We still have another day to choose. For now, let's get to work." And they did. Brooke had finally gotten an ally, after a day of waiting. And if she surronding herself with people that didn't have anything to do with her had gotten her this far, then where would she go with someone that was exactly like her? The answer was simple.
Home.
Ryella Duval; 18 years old.
District Six Female.
Since she had gotten there, there was a part of Ryella that was actually relieved. At least, she could finally have a little bit of peace, even if it was only for a moment. In there, she didn't have to work to death to feed her family, or pretend to be in love with someone that she couldn't care less about. She was Ryella Duval, and since everyone minded their own business, they all left her alone. She could finally be herself, without anyone to stop her.
She didn't need Camryn to live, or anything like those idiot romance stories said, but he had made sure that Ryella stopped working to feed her family as soon as they got together. The poor fool was so in love with her, that he fell in her trap, without ever looking back. The money was good, but Ryella had lost the purpose that she had in her life. What on earth was she supposed to do next? The irony that she was reaped a few months later almost made her laugh. Almost.
But having Preston Hewitt by her side, that was something that Ryella didn't want. She had begged with their mentors, told them that she could find someone else that was stronger, but they said no. That while they didn't have anyone, District Six would stay together. In the first day of training, Ryella had ignored him completely. She had let the boy follow her around while she trained, but then, the ideas started spinning inside of her head.
By the time that the second day of training had started, Ryella had a plan. Preston could actually come of use. He wouldn't kill for her, Ryella had realized that he wasn't as stupid as she thought, but he could protect her when she couldn't protect herself. And when the time came, she would get rid of him or have someone else do it for her.
"Hey Ryella?" They were currently training with the bow and arrows, and Preston was getting quite good at it. He wasn't any Career, but with two days of training, he actually managed to make the arrow stuck on the target.
Ryella wasn't sure, but he probably had it a few bullseye already. "Watch me and tell me who do you think I am." He attached the back of the arrow to the bowstring and raised it, drew the string and released the arrow. Ryella was about to roll her eyes when Preston's arrow hit a straight bullsye.
"An idiot," She replied. Get him on your side. "But one that's getting better and better with time. I think that by the time we get to the arena, you'll actually be able to hit someone with that bow."
Preston grinned from ear to ear. He was exactly like a child, the more Ryella praised him, the happier he got. Maybe it was a good thing that they were forced to stay together, in the end. "The right answer was a Career, but that's a pretty good one too. I'm glad that you're finally starting to accept that we make an hell of a team, babe. Soon, I'll finally be able to make you smile."
Ryella nodded, but she didn't say anything. Emotions make you weak, she could hear her father like he was right here with her. Ryella hadn't realized that he was telling the truth until much better, only she was forced to grow up and take care of her family. Smiles, emotions, they weren't a thing for her. There was only one person that was able to make Ryella smile, from to time to time, and it was her brother. Lyric was the only one that deserved her smiles, and the only that had earned them for the rest of their lives.
The others were nothing but scum that she would get rid of, one day. Getting a bow of her own, Ryella attached the arrow to the string, raised the bow and aimed. If even someone as Preston could do it, it shouldn't be that hard. It couldn't be, Ryella thought, and released the arrow. It hit the dummy's head, stuck in there for a second, but fell to the ground seconds later with a loud thump. She turned to her left, half expecting one of Preston's sarcastic comments, but he was too focused on his new bow to even pay attention to her.
Sighing, Ryella placed the bow back on the shelf, and turned to Preston. "I'm going to take a look at the edible food station, it might help us in the future."
Preston lifted an eyebrow. "Do you want me to tag along?"
Ryella shook her head. "No, no, I'll just go take a look and I'll be right back. You focus on your bow, and practice to get even better. Maybe you'll be able to even take down a Career by the time we get to the arena." Preston grinned, nodded and turned back to his bow. Ryella walked away, moving towards the edible food and poisons station. She wasn't too interested in the edible food, since the poisons were the thing that she was really there for.
Ryella could feel the excitement building up in her chest, and she smirked a little. It had been two years since she was able to get near any type of chemicals, since she had left school to take care of her brother, and now they were right there, waiting to be touched.
The trainer was an older man, and he smiled when he saw her. "I didn't have many tributes interested in my station, but you seem to know your way around, girl?" Ryella nodded. She didn't owe the man anything, but there was no need to be rude. Not when she was surronded by one of the things that she loved the most in the world, and besides, that man could be a possible sponsor for her.
"This one..." Ryella pointed to white bowl, with an even more white water in it. It looked normal at first, but Ryella had studied that type of poisons since she had entered school.
The trainer smiled, picking up the bowl and handing it to her. Ryella brought it closer to her face and smelled it. It seemed and looked exactly like normal water to the untrained eye, but Ryella knew better. There was only one type of poison like that. "Arsenic, isn't it?"
The man smiled, but still looked quite suprised that she had gotten it right. "Oh yes. "The King of Poisons", they call it. Place it on water or food, and people won't notice a single thing. They would be dead in minutes." He pointed to the next shelf, and Ryella followed him. In there, it was a fish, a type that Ryella had never seen before, but she had read about it. But if it was there, this was one was pretty easy.
"Mercury," She answered. "It's deadly only when it's ingested, but still, a very deadly poison." The trainer nodded, his smile growing wider, but then he stopped to look at her for a few seconds. "You know, they don't usually supply this type in the Cornucopia, but you can get them throught a sponsor."
The next hour went by pretty quickly, and when Ryella had tried throught each poison twice, she nodded goodbye to the trainer and left. Right now, she was content.
Not happy, but that was something that she had been wanting to do for a long time. She had been a skilled chemist in school and when she had left, that was the thing that Ryella missed the most. Now, she had them back, and maybe would even get someone to sponsor them to her in the Games. It was only when she got to the archery station that Ryella noticed that Preston was surronded by two girls, a brunette and a red-head.
The girls from... Seven and Ten, Ryella guessed. She reached them just in time to hear Preston's voice. "And that, ladies, is how you truly use a bow and arrow." When they continued their training without paying attention to her, Ryella crossed her arms over her stomach, and cleared her throat.
She could almost hear the smirk on Preston's voice when he spoke. " I heard you the first time, dearest Ryella." Then, you're rude as hell, she thought to herself.
"Then it would have been nice to answer, dearest Preston." He cackled, and turned to the other girls. "Over here, we have Ryella Duval, my lovely district partner. She's also the grumpiest person you'll ever meet, so you'll need a little bit of patience if you are going to put up with the lovely Ryella over here."
"Put up with?" Ryella asked, and suddenly, she felt the need to punch Preston, right there. If he had invited those girls to be their allies without her permission, what was stopping her from turning around and finding a whole new alliance? The girls placed their bows back on the shelf, just like Ryella had done, and placed each other on her side. "I'm Leila, District Ten." The red-head claimed, pointing to herself and then pointing to the girl on Ryella's left side. "This is Sedna, from Seven."
When Ryella didn't reply, the girl continued. "We came here to train the bows and your district partner, being a gentleman, helped us learn our way around one. Then, the invitation to an alliance came." Leila got a bit too close to her for Ryella's tastes, and whispered in her ear. "If he was a girl, I would surely ask him out. Not into boys, sadly."
How lovely. Almost as if she understood what Ryella was thinking, Leila sighed. "We might not look like much, but Sedna grew up with axes, and I can handle myself with knives quite well." Ah, District Ten. Ryella wondered how many animals the red-head had butchered. "We can help the two of you, but in the end, it's up to you." The plan had only included Preston, but what could be the harm? Against the Careers, she would have 3 people that could actually hold their own. Oh yes, Ryella was starting to like the solution.
She quickly nodded. "An alliance it is, then. We'll meet over lunch, Sedna and I will work on the survival stations, while you guys work on the weapons." They quickly left, the girl from Seven following behind her. But Ryella was thinking of Preston, and the way that he had been charming to those girls when he was clearly a rude person.
"So, Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum? What exactly were you thinking?" For the first time since she had met Preston, she saw the hint of a sly smile on his face. "You know what I was thinking, dearest Ryella. Maybe I took a page from your book."
District Six was alread playing the Game.
A/N: This was only supposed to be out on Friday, but hey, it's the summer. The best thing about it is that we can do whatever we want and well, I ended up writing this in the past two days, and here it is. :) One more day of training, and we'll be closer to the Games. (I can't wait.)
Our alliance list:
Alexa + Aidan + Sadie + Jasko + Tiena
Leila + Sedna + Preston + Ryella
Amaryllis + Tyson + Niamh
Coulter + Oliver
Brooke + Katarina
See you soon!