Training Day One.
A Cannon in the Wind;
The Fifth Hunger Games.
Vesper Quinn, 18;
District One Male.
"Vesper! Sweety! Please wake up, dear!"
I grumble, squinting my eyes at the bright light coming through the window. I bet those Capitol bastards strategically put the window there so the morning light would hit me straight in the face. They'll do anything to piss me off, won't they?
"Vesper! I gave you a few extra minutes of sleep, but you're going to be late if you don't hurry and get up!"
If I was in the right mood, I'd definitely tell Aquila off for waking me up with her incessant chattering. But I'm not in the right mood. I'm definitely not a morning person, and waking up with the sun in my eyes just makes me even grumpier. But I'm not feeling as hostile—so I do nothing but sit up and try to rub the sleepiness away.
"Vesper—!"
"I'm up!" I yell at her, though there's no real feeling put into it. She stops knocking, finally, and I can hear a soft sigh escape her lips.
"That's great," she says. "But hurry and take a shower. There should be clothes laid out on the bed for you, too."
True to her words, there's a black and red shirt laid out beside me, with a 1 placed on the sleeves. The pants are placed right under the shirt, a simple black. Sighing, I climb out of bed and stumble groggily to the bathroom. The fact that these Capitol people are putting so much effort into this just exhausts me. I'm not used to any of this stuff. The hot showers, the luxurious rooms, the un-tattered clothes—all of this is new to me.
Contrary to popular belief, not everyone in District One is rich. I was one of the exceptions. After the war, the Capitol started rounding up the more famously known rebels—and of course, my parents were one of them. After the executions that took place not too long after, I was devastated. Both my parents, dead. And I was alone. I went to each of my friends' houses, begging them to let me live with them...but of course, nobody wanted the son of two rebels in their home. What if they were punished? The horror.
So I lived in the park, surviving on whatever I could find. It was tough, obviously, but I'm nothing if not tough. After a few years of homelessness, I eventually found a simple job, and started living uncomfortably in an abandoned shack. I had shelter again, a place to call home. But I wasn't the same. Nobody in District One wanted me when I needed them; nobody in District One cared about me when I needed them; everybody in District One could fucking die.
I had grown bitter. But I was an orphan living in a shack, so what else was I supposed to be? District One wasn't the only one I directed my hatred towards. Everyone in the Capitol deserves to burn for what they did, for how they stole my happy life away from me.
They may have been able to kill my parents, but they won't kill me. Nobody will kill me. Because I'm going to win. And if that means I have to get blood on my hands, it's what I'm going to do.
After showering, brushing my teeth, and all the other mundane morning rituals, I put on the clothes and head outside the room. And standing right there, waiting for me, is my idiotic Escort.
"Ugh, you took too long, dear!" She exclaims, reaching to grab my hand—but I pull away before she can touch me, glaring bloody murder. Hasn't she learned by now? "V-Vesper, we do not have time for this! You're expected downstairs in twenty minutes. Can you even believe the schedule we're running on?"
Biting back a scathing remark, I turn around and walk away. "You don't need to drag me anywhere. I can walk fine all by myself."
She says something else, but I tune it out, not caring for her or her ridiculous personality. Today is the first day of training, and I'm more than aware of the fact that I have little to no training in fighting with a weapon. Beating up random punks on the street isn't the same as slicing up random tributes to pieces.
But I'm not completely at a disadvantage. Ninety percent of the tributes here probably haven't touched a single blade in their lives, so I'm fine. After these three days are over, I should be able to at least hold my own against those assholes from District Two.
"Well then. Good morning, Vesper." Jewell Galamory smiles at me as I walk into the dining room. Adeline sits at her side, a small smile also on her face, but it's definitely not as sincere as she wants it to be. Her weakness is as clear as the nose on her face.
I grunt, sitting down in front of my Mentor and District Partner without a word. Almost as soon as my butt hits the chair, an Avox comes out of nowhere and places a plate of breakfast in front of me. Yet another thing I'm not used to. For some reason, the sight of all this food makes me angry. It makes me think of how, back in District One, Titan is probably looking around for me. He's the stray dog that comes pester me for food now and again—and even though it irks me sometimes, he's the only thing I'd ever consider a friend.
"You should eat," Adeline murmurs, her smile looking more and more forced. "We have a long day ahead of us, and you don't want Echo and Kostos to be—"
"Shut up," I snap, a hot feeling deep in my chest. Just mentioning those two assholes makes me want to puke. "I told you I'm not going to be in your little alliance, and that's final."
"B-But..!" She struggles to find something to say, and eventually looks to Jewell for help. And Ms. Victor doesn't look the least bit amused.
"Vesper, I heard about what happened after the Chariot Rides yesterday," she tells me, and I just shrug. Who cares what she knows? "Can I at least ask why you decided not to be apart of the Pack? Is it paranoia?"
I scoff. "It's not that. It's just that I don't need them. I don't need help from anyone. Never have, and never will. So shut up and let me eat." And with that, I tear off a piece of the waffles and bring it to my mouth.
And look, it's too crunchy. There must be a conspiracy against me, I swear.
"They've trained, Vesper," Adeline pleads, her voice sad and desperate. It's just pitiful. "This alliance happens every year now. Echo and Kostos protects us, while we share with them our sponsors. It's just how things work..."
"And look how amazing it worked last year," I bite back, sick and tired of the both of them, of everyone! Why can't everyone just leave me alone?! Why can't they just see how unimportant and insignificant their lives truly are?! "Both of them dead. And who killed the District One girl last year? That's right, the District Two boy. You're going to die, Adeline, and don't expect me to hold my tongue and feel sad when you do. Because I won't."
And with that, anger coursing through my veins, I pick up the plate of waffles and launch it at the wall. Adeline and Aquila both shriek in surprise—and with a satisfying crack, the plate breaks into itty bitty pieces. Jewell narrows her eyes at me, but I don't care about her. She could've died five years ago, and my life wouldn't have been the least bit different.
My parents would still be dead. I'd still be living off scraps and leftovers. And I'd still have gotten picked for the Hunger Games.
And even if she's here for me or not, dead or alive, I'm going to win. That's for certain.
I don't want anyone. Just like how nobody wants me.
Breno Harmont, 17;
District Six Male.
Ceres and I walk out of the elevator into the Training Room, Vita standing behind us with a cheerful smile. She insisted that she'd escort us to the place, and not even Ceres' quiet insults could change the lady's mind. She's determined to help me, I'll give her that, but I'm sure she'll be just as determined to help the next batch of tributes. I'm nothing special...
But does that mean I don't deserve my life? It doesn't. Just like the twenty-three other kids here, I deserve to live. And I'm not going to give up, no matter how pointless it can seem at times...
I look around, immediately seeing the surplus amount of weapons scattered about. Weapons that I've never even seen before, weapons that could—and most likely will—kill me. It's all just so intimidating, to be honest. How could these Capitol people expect someone like me to pick up one of these weapons and kill somebody?
"Remember what I told you both," Vita says, bringing me out of my trance of death. I glance at her, and she just smiles. "Scope out the competition. See who's dangerous and who's not. And last but not least, find allies that can protect you in a cinch. Okay?"
Ceres and I look at her like she's grown two heads, which probably isn't unheard of in this crazy city. Everything that she's saying is smart, but how can she expect us two to utilize the information? All that we can do is avoid the dangerous tributes, and then avoid the less dangerous ones. We're the prey here, no matter what, and we'll always be.
And who'd want to ally with me anyway? That'd be the worst decision anyone could think of...
Pushing my thoughts away, I nod at my Escort. With a few more unimportant words, she leaves—and just like that, we've taken our very first steps as tributes. Training. Back in District Six, I always wondered what this place looked like. I was a curious child—and I still am. Always living life to the fullest, just in case something undesirable happened. Something like this.
After my two brothers died in the war against the Capitol, it was all I could do to not wallow in hate and grief. Etha and Denis, they were both so close and important to me. And the Capitol took it all away with one single battle. Sometimes, when I think of them, it takes everything in me not to scream about how much I hate the Capitol and everyone living in it.
But I'm not stupid. If I say a single word of dissent, they'll kill me. Just like how they killed my siblings. Just like how they're trying to kill me now.
After a few minutes of just awkwardly standing around, watching as more and more tributes are brought into the room, a whistle cuts through the silence. I look to the noise, and widen my eyes when I see the same man from the Chariot Rides standing in the middle of the room. With his giant muscles and glaring eyes, he looks more at home here in the Training Room than back in the garage.
"Tributes," he says, so loud that I'm sure the District One Victor upstairs can hear him. "Come form a circle around me. Now. Anyone found dilly-dallying will be severely punished. So come!"
Multiple scowls are sent his way, Ceres scowling and sucking her teeth. She walks over to the man, and I follow closely behind. While we aren't allies, we're District Partners, and that's a bond stronger than any other bond I have with anyone else in here. When all of us tributes surround him—I end up standing in the middle of Ceres and the stony-looking guy from District Eight—the big Capitol man starts to speak.
"My name is Vincio, and I am the Head Trainer in charge of this Training Facility. For the next three days, all twenty-four of you will be taken here to train for the upcoming Games. If you'd like some advice from me, I'd say to focus on weaponry skills rather than survival. Anyone can survive, but that'll only prolong the inevitable. If you're going to win, you're going to have to fight, to kill."
I repress a frown at that. I want to win, but survival skills are my type of thing. As I said before, I'm the curious type of person that wants to know everything about everything. Now, my small obsession with knowing things can actually help save my life. I'm not going to listen to this man and end up dying because of it. Not like you'll live anyway, Breno.
I need to shut up.
"After the last training day, each of you will be individually tested by the Gamemakers. Depending on what you show them, you'll be given a score of 1 through 12—the former being the lowest in this situation."
I glance at the District Twelve pair standing together, the boy looking slightly miffed at his comment while the girl looks straight to the ground. It's no secret that both tributes of District Twelve always die in the Bloodbath. Suddenly, a weird feeling spreads throughout my body. In a week, both of them could be dead. It doesn't even feel real.
This is just the worst.
"Training Scores are important, as you all know. Nobody's going to sponsor the one who got a 3 over the one with a 8. So I'm going to advise you all one last time: Survival isn't going to cut your enemy's throat open. As you all progress throughout these days, I hope you spend your time wisely." And with that last little speech, he pushes his way past the District Eleven pair and walks to the stairs. Sitting at the top of the stairs is an elderly-looking man with soft eyes, watching us intently. Who is he?
I shrug, putting the thought to the back of my mind. All of a sudden, instead of brushing up on my intelligent, I want to train with weaponry. I don't know if Vincio's speech really did something, or if it's something else altogether...but I really want to train. Even if I'm most likely going to die, it's harder for me to accept that than it is to work hard and prevent that.
Suddenly, I blink out of my thoughts, realizing I'm the only one still standing at the same spot. I look around, feeling my cheeks flush in embarrassment. Standing next to the knives, Ceres and that little guy from District Five stare at me, the latter snickering. I quickly turn around, walking off to wherever my feet takes me. I don't have any experience with weapons of any kind, so the spontaneous side of myself will have to make the choice for me.
It almost feels like I'm at school again. Granted, I lost most of my friends after I lost my brothers, but that's beside the point. I would always do things by the impulses I get rather than what would be best for me. And apparently, my spontaneous personality wants me to try archery, because that's where my legs lead me to.
I stare at the multiple bows and arrows in front of me. Aren't these things kind of difficult to use?
"Well then, are you going to stare at them all day or are you going to try it?" The woman standing by the station asks me, her Capitol accent not as thick and ridiculous as most Capitolites. I blink at her, pondering the question—and then, I look around.
The District One girl and the District Two pair are mainly loitering around the more dangerous weapons, chatting instead of actually using them. When the District Two girl catches me staring, I immediately look away. I definitely don't want any trouble with them, not when I'm not even in the Arena yet. There's nobody else around the archery station, so I guess I'm the only one interested?
"Yeah, I'll try to use it," I tell her, and a small smile graces the woman's lips. She hands me a bow with a single arrow, telling me how the use it and all the tips and tricks that goes along with it. She's actually pretty helpful. But she doesn't really care about me. I'm not naive enough to believe I'm important in any way...
"Now that I taught you the basics," she says after she's done with her lecture. "You should try it out yourself. Remember, don't aim your arrow at another person in this room. Harming or killing anyone else is strictly forbidden."
I nod, kinda already figuring that. Wouldn't want us killing each other without millions of cameras taping it all, right? Shaking that thought out of my head, I nock the arrow, just like how she demonstrated earlier. I line it up with my dominant eye, squinting at the target. And then, after a single breath, I release the arrow.
...And bullseye! The arrow sticks straight into the center of the target, a loud thud reverberating throughout the rather quiet Training Center. I can just feel the multiple eyes on me, but right now, I just don't care. I just made a bullseye on my first try. Even though there's a ninety-nine percent chance of it just being a fluke, it really boosts my rather low self-esteem.
"Wow," the woman says, her smile looking just a bit more sincere. "Beginner's luck, obviously, but with practice you could probably be really lethal." I beam at her words, feeling a surge of pride welling through me. It's stupid, I know, and I'll probably never be able to do that again...but still. I'm buzzing.
"You have really nice aim," a female voice says from behind me. I whirl around, my guard back up—but standing in front of me aren't the tributes from District One and Two. Instead, it's both the male and female from District Four. Ula and...Caio, right?
I give them an apprehensive nod. "Thank you, but I'm really nothing special. It was just beginner's luck."
Ula giggles at that. Is she playing me right now? "Still, you seem really capable and strangely approachable. We were wondering if you maybe wanted to form an alliance with us?"
The words almost make me fall over. An alliance? With me? But why? It's only been a few minutes of training, and already I have alliance offers? And... And why me? I'm nothing special. My mom always tried to tell me otherwise, but I know what I am. And truly, I'm nothing special. Is this some sort of joke?
I look past the girl, focusing on Caio behind her. He has some sort of half-smile on his face, trying to look approachable, obviously. Not the sign of a really sincere person—but still, there's something about him that's almost amiable. Even though I've never met this guy in my life, I feel that...
No, I can't trust him. That's just something about me; living in District Six has hardened me to the fierce reality of things. People are untrustworthy. I can never trust people in the first few minutes, even days of meeting them.
But unlike the other loners of this world, I can learn to trust people. I can learn to trust Ula and Caio. They just have to own it. Meaning I'll give them a chance—just like how I gave Chip a chance, just like how I gave Foran a chance.
"I'll... I'm in," I tell Ula, to which she beams at. "I still don't know what you see in me, but if you want me to, I'll join."
I do see something in Ula, though. She volunteered for her little sister. It reminds me of myself, of what I wish could've happened. More than anything, I wish I was old enough to fight with my brothers in the war. Maybe I could've protected them somehow. Maybe I would've died with them.
That ending honestly sounds better than the ending I'm about to have. The Hunger Games are the absolute worst way to die.
Terrance Vallier, 16;
District Nine Male.
I stare at the alliance that was already formed, even though it hasn't even been an hour yet. Ula Dylan and Caio Artelle from District Four, and Breno Harmont from District Six. There's something in me that respects them; the fact that they're already looking for alliances proves how ready they are, how determined they are to win.
But then, the intelligent part of myself just wants to shake it's head. Why would the pair from Four seek out him to alliance with them? Just because he made that one lucky shot, it doesn't mean he's the top dog here.
I glance at the alliance standing beside me. Adeline Callard from District One, and Kostos Sylett and Echo Woods from District Two. If anything, they're the top dogs here. They're basically guaranteed sponsors, and the Bloodbath won't even be a problem for them. If the two from Four were truly serious, they would have tried to ally with them.
I snort, standing up from my spot on the floor. The man at the station gives me a curious look, but I ignore him, walking towards the Pack. If I'm going to ally with anyone, it's going to be them. They'll bring me as close as possible to victory—and then, when things start getting tense, I'll cut loose before they start turning on each other.
I'm going to win these Games. And if that means I need to fool a couple of people, I'll do it. I take opportunities when they come to me, and I use them for my benefit.
I'm not a cold-hearted person.
I just want to win.
I'm not going to die. Not after all the hard work it took for me to preserve my life in the first place. Orphaned at a young age, I've never met my parents before—and if I were honest, I don't care to know them. They never needed me, apparently, so I don't need them. I wasn't going to be known as that sniveling orphan child, though. I wasn't going to let my stupid parents choose how my entire life went. So I found a family that agreed to adopt me as long as I helped them around the house.
I wasn't happy, but I was surviving. And my survival means a lot more to me than my happiness. A lot of these tributes won't see it how I see it, and that's exactly why I'm going to have the advantage over them. That's why I'm going to win.
Before I can make it to the three powerhouses, though, someone abruptly slides in my way. I blink, stepping back—and Daniel Church of District Seven grins at me. What does this guy want? He can't possibly want to ally with me, right? For a quick second, multiple scenarios of the Games flash in my head, this guy being my ally. And even though this guy volunteered, the odds of me winning with him as my ally seems lower than the odds of me winning with the Pack.
For a quick second, we just stare at each other in silence. And then, realizing I'm not going to speak, he opens his mouth. "How do you do?"
"What do you want?" I ask, ignoring the question. This is no time for formalities.
The male from District Seven looks me up and down, and his gaze seems to stop at the medallion hanging around my neck. He seems to have a golden medallion, too, but it looks way bigger and fancier. He could easily take that off and beat someone to death in the Games, I note.
"I apologize for my sudden appearance," he mumbles, looking back up at me. "But why do you possess a Peacekeeper's medallion?"
Some fancy way of speaking you got there, I think, frowning. "It's my token. Is there a problem with that?"
"You were a Peacekeeper?" He asks. "I presumed all Peacekeepers came from Two." I raise my brow in surprise. It's not common knowledge that Peacekeepers come from either the Capitol or District Two. How does this mysterious volunteer from District Seven know something like that?
I try to shrug—but his hidden intelligence has made me tense. Maybe I shouldn't underestimate these other tributes. Some of them, like this guy, may give me a surprise I won't be able to recover from.
I shift, my guard immediately turned on. "Is there anything you need? If you're asking for an alliance, I'm not interested."
"An alliance?" Daniel stares at me for a moment, before he chuckles. "No, sorry, it's nothing like that. You just really remind me of my brother, that's all." His brother, the one I assume tried to volunteer first. I still am a bit curious on that whole fiasco, but I seriously don't have time to bother with this guy. If the Pack finds someone else to recruit because Daniel decided to distract me, I'm going to be extremely pissed.
"Well..." I don't know how to respond, so I just stare him straight in the eye. Maybe he'll get intimidated and leave me alone.
But instead, he just sheepishly rubs the back of his neck. "Actually, that sounded a lot more weird than it did in my head."
"Clearly." I snort.
After a few more seconds of him apologizing sheepishly, he walks away to go sit with his District Partner, Calla Mallow. I roll my eyes and continue my journey over to the Pack. He was so weird, and kinda irritating. But I'll admit, he was interesting. If this thing with the Pack doesn't work out, I guess he'll be my next choice in an alliance.
But you won't have to worry about that. Because they'll accept you. They'd be stupid not to.
Yet, it's my acceptance that'll doom them. Ironic, isn't it?
As soon as I get close enough, Echo stops talking to her allies and turns to glare at me. "What do you want, District Nine?"
Wasting no time, I say, "I'm here to propose an alliance. Let me join you, and I promise, you won't regret it." I may be laying it on a bit thick, but I do need them to accept me. I've already thought of so many different scenarios, and most of them lead to my victory. Without them, my chances go down a bit too low for my liking.
Adeline widens her eyes. "Huh..?"
Kostos immediately grins at me. "This should be interesting."
"Listen..." Echo points at the District One boy, Vesper Quinn, who's slashing dummies by himself. "We already had to kick that dumbass out, and I'm not even sure this spineless female is in either." Adeline looks to the floor, almost ashamed. Tension in the Pack already? That's perfect. "So if you expect for us to let some weak kid from District Nine into our pack, you're completely out of your mind."
I puff out my chest, expecting a reaction like that. It'd be suspicious if she just accepted me on the spot. Now it's time to persuade her.
"I may be from a pathetic district," I say. "But I can assure you that I'm not weak. Give me a chance to prove myself, at least?"
She scoffs, opening her mouth to no-doubt insult me again—but suddenly, her eyes travel down to the medallion hanging around my neck. Being from District Two, I'm pretty sure she knows what it is.
Her eyes travel back up to my face—and although she's still frowning, her gaze has softened considerably. "Peacekeepers Excellence Award? Where did you get that from?"
Hook. Line. And sinker. "Back in District Nine, I was a Peacekeeper. Pretty high up in the ranks, too, considering I won something like this." I'm lying, of course, but I'm not here to tell the truth. Whatever it takes to win, I'll do it.
And besides, I'm not completely lying. Dalton was the one to give me the award, but I was a Peacekeeper-in-training. When the war hit District Nine, the family that adopted me was all killed in the bombings. Without anywhere to go, I sided with the Capitol, knowing they'd be the ones to win. It was the logical choice, after all. I told the Peacekeepers that I lost my Capitol-supporting family, and wanted to fight with them. They agreed—and just like that, I was leading a different life, all to stay alive.
It's all about survival, in my books. Nothing can change that. Nothing will change that.
I'm going to win the Hunger Games.
I'm not going to die.
Suddenly seeing me in a different light, Echo gives me a small smile. "Well, you may just be competent enough to join after all. Show us what you can do, and you're in."
I smile. "My pleasure."
Whatever the cost.
Author's Notes: So yeah, I think I gonna call the Careers the "Pack" from now on. I think they'll be called the Careers when D4 finally joins in, which I'm guessing won't be for awhile. So yeah.
Anyway, see? I told you chapters are going to get out a lot more often! Each chapter from here on out will have 3 POVs. So yeah, chapters will be out a lot faster. Yay?
All alliances mentioned in this chapter will be posted on the blog, by the way. So go check it out if you need to!
What are your thoughts on each of these tributes? Which POV was your favorite and why? Which POV was your least favorite and why?
It's the first day of training. What do you do first? Catch up on your knowledge? Train with a weapon? Gain an alliance?
So yeah, that's it for this chapter. Next chapter will be Training Day Two. About halfway done with the Capitol, yeah? I've planned the Capitol chapters out already, so I'm excited for what's to come! Hopefully you all are excited, too!
Once again, I'd love a review! Reviews honestly make updates even speedier, because I can't possibly gain the needed amount of inspiration without them. So yeah, I'd love if you all reviewed!
And I'm going to keep the poll up a little longer because a lot of people didn't vote yet. So yeah, I really hope you enjoyed!
Bai!