Meilin Seacole, 15

08:00 hours

Day one of training

Last night, Meilin slept for the first time in days.

She's not entirely sure why; the only thing that comes to mind is that tribute from Five helping her at the parade, after knocking some of her beads on the floor.

(Maybe the world can be fixed with kindness, after all.

Maybe this entire mess, that she's found herself in, can be too.)

But where do I start?

A bulb lights up in the back of Meilin's mind; it's a long shot, but she doesn't see another way at this present time. Meilin alone can't fix the world with kindness but if the other twenty-five are on board… It can be done. What if she could just convince everyone not to fight? Then, The Capitol wouldn't have a show, they'd have no choice but to cancel the games, perhaps forever - if tributes in future games follow suit. It won't be easy, but it's worth a try, surely?

Over the last few days, Meilin had begun to forget who she was, but now it's as clear as a burning flame.

Kindness above all things, even when times are rough, especially when times are rough.

With that, the girl from Three kicks her sheets off and leaps out of bed. She checks the clock – training starts in an hour. There's no hesitation in her movements whilst getting ready. She is quick to finish her shower and shovel her breakfast down, then after exchanging some pleasantries with her team, she heads out with her District partner, Jarvis.

Once in the elevator, they are soon joined by pairs of other tributes from other districts, each with their district number displayed on their training outfit. Other than the careers, many of the tributes look scary, but the scariest are the pair from District Fourteen - the prison district – especially the boy, with his tall frame and cold stare. They are both criminals, Meilin knows this, but she's not going to judge them; Panem is a difficult place to live. Even so, Meilin stands up strong with her shoulders back. She's never allowed herself to be intimidated by bullies and she's not about to start now.

Meilin's eyes travel around the elevator before landing on the girl from Eight, who sends her a smile. Meilin hastily returns a beaming smile of her own; however, the moment is cut off by the elevator doors sliding open and the tributes being ushered out to receive instructions from the head trainer.

The tributes absorb, to varying degrees, the instructions of the head trainer, and Meilin listens intently. As soon as the lecture is finished, she makes a beeline to the survival station. Meilin was always an academic – besides, there was never anywhere in the huge, bustling streets of New Alexandria to learn how to survive on your own.

It seems the smiling girl from Eight also had the same thought process - Meilin catches her awkwardly fiddling with some kindling, trying to start a fire. Her face is red from anxiety, probably from the whole ordeal of being reaped; Meilin knows exactly what she's going through.

Kindness first, before anything else.

"Need a hand?" Meilin asks, moving over to the girl's station.

"That would be nice… thanks." The girl from Eight breathes a sigh of relief and brushes her hair out of her face. She is quite petite, although still taller than Meilin, but her most notable feature is the small scar on her chin, which Meilin quickly takes note of.

Meilin smiles, plonking herself down next to the tribute. She attempts to violently create some friction with the kindling but to no avail. Eventually, she rubs the forming sweat off of her forehead. "Turns out, I'm not very good at this stuff," she chuckles.

"Me either," the girl laughs back. "My parents always made me focus on boring stuff like math and science…"

Although Meilin would disagree on the "boring" part of that statement, this girl is making her feel more at ease, and Meilin thinks she is doing the same for her, so she continues to press to find out more about this girl. "So… what do you enjoy doing?"

The girl drops the kindling and stares up at the ceiling, contemplating. "Well, I used to like to paint before… ya know… but I don't know if I was any good at it."

"I'm sure you're great at it!" Meilin beams.

"Thanks!"

"Have you got any to show?"

The girl chuckles. "I didn't exactly think the other tributes would be interested in an art exhibition…"

"There's still time! You could paint something to show the game makers!"

"Then they'd have no choice but to give me a ten!" the girl jokes with a playful wink.

Just then, another lightbulb brightens Meilin's mind. Despite the fact that she was kidding around, the girl's painting skills could come in handy as a backup plan - a Plan B, so to speak.

"I totally get where you're coming from though, I often get imposter's syndrome on stuff other people tell me I'm good at," Meilin says.

The girl glances up at her from the kindling. "You got any allies yet? With your district partner, maybe?"

Meilin shakes her head. "He didn't really talk much… maybe he was just nervous. What about yours?"

"I truly wish mine had never opened his mouth," the girl sighs. "The day we ally is the day I understand algebra."

Meilin finds herself chuckling again, then she offers out her hand. "Well, we may not be able to start a fire but I think we could make a pretty good team."

The tribute from Eight takes her hand almost straight away, giving it a firm shake. "You're on," she says.

Meilin's heart fills with joy. "Amazing!"

"I'm Alizka, but you can call me Liz," the girl says with a smile.

"I'm…" She pauses, realising she doesn't have a nickname. "Meilin."

That's one tribute onboard. Meilin will reveal her plans to Liz at a later date, after she's scoped out a few more allies. Then, hopefully, one by one, they will convince the rest not to fight each other.

Meilin clears her throat. "There was a tribute, yesterday… from Five I think. They helped me after knocking some of my beads on the floor… we should find them."

Liz ponders for a second. "Could we wait till tomorrow, maybe? Take things one step at a time."

"Sure."

Suddenly, after enough rubbing, a thin line of smoke begins drifting out of their kindling. Meilin begins rummaging around under the sticks and leaves; a small ember has formed underneath.

"We did it!" Meilin exclaims, raising her hand for a high five.

Liz slaps her hand. "Yeah! Progress!" The painter from Eight's eyes light up with delight.

Laughing along with her new friend, Meilin's heart buzzes. She can save her, she can save everyone. She has to, she'll find a way.

Landon Singa, 17

"Landon!" Geneve's voice echoes from across the training room.

Landon's tall district partner comes plodding over to where the boy is currently standing on his head.

Geneve pauses, crossing her arms, and furrowing her eyebrows. "What are you doing?"

"What does it look like? Standing on my head," Landon laughs.

Geneve points back to the weapon station. "The others are waiting for us…"

Finally, he collapses down on the floor before doing a kick-up. "Sorry, ready now!" He begins strolling beside his district partner to the weapons station. "Anyway, when's lunch? I'm getting hungry… and bored," he asks.

"We've been here like two minutes…"

Landon sighs. "Really? It feels like two hours, huh."

The pair stop in front of the weapons station, with the other four careers eyes firmly on them. Being mostly unfamiliar with the rest of the group, Landon and Geneve glance at each other with a smile.

Romulus is the first to speak, as usual; the broad-chested boy confidently steps forward into the middle, with a charming smile. "I just wanted to say that I'm looking forward to working with you all."

"Likewise," a few of the pack mutter back.

"Good… so, I've been watching some of the past games, and one thing that stood out to me is that successful career packs tend to have… a… well, not a leader, but someone to make key decisions… as long as the others agree to it."

"Sounds like a leader," Geneve shoots back.

Romulus shrugs. "Ok, yeah, a leader."

"I agree, a leader sounds like a great idea," Brizio suddenly pipes up, and if he hadn't then Landon would have forgotten he was there.

The boy from Four appears next to Romulus with a stone-cold and assured look on his face. He places his hand on the Two boy's shoulder. "And I'd like to throw my name in the hat."

Romulus shoots Brizio a look, clearly not expecting anyone else to step up. "Fair enough, and if it wasn't already obvious I'd like to put myself up, as well," he says.

Romulus's district partner, Meridia, also suggests herself.

"Looks like it's down to a vote, then," Brizio says.

When the pack votes, Brizio narrowly wins, with Landon being the only one to vote for Romulus - mostly just to go against the crowd.

Brizio smirks at Romulus, and immediately, Romulus drops his charming smile. "Fine, have it your way," he groans. He then turns, heading for the training dummies on his own in a strop.

Brizio raises his eyebrows. "He'll get over it," he says. "Before we start on the dummies, I thought it's important that we go over a few ground rules, in order for us to be as successful as possible…."

"Ugh, I hate rules," Landon groans.

"I get you," Brizio replies, his dark eyes moving to Landon. "But it's for our own good."

Our own good, or your own good - Landon thinks to himself.

(In Landon's experience, anybody who enjoys making rules is making rules that benefit them first.)

"Firstly - no killing or harming each other until we reach the final eight, anyone to do so will immediately be-" he pauses.

"Murdered?" Geneve offers.

"Bingo," Brizio responds, pointing to the One girl. "Second, any discussions about what we're doing in the games have to happen with everyone else present… we can't have people acting in cross-purposes. And that's it… unless anyone has got any more?"

Landon and the girls glance at each other, and they all collectively shake their heads.

"Excellent," Brizio winks at the rest of the alliance, causing Landon's heart to skip a beat - Landon isn't so sure about this Brizio guy yet, but he can't deny that he's got charisma.

With that, the pack heads to the weapons station to join Romulus, who conveniently missed all the rules. Landon can't help but wonder if Brizio did that on purpose. He never seemed to like Romulus from the beginning, is this his way of casting the boy out?

Romulus lifts up a short sword, giving it a twirl in his hand. "Took you long enough," he says to Brizio.

"Yeah alright, we were just straightening some things out," Brizio retorts. He then heads for the sword rack and selects a sword marginally larger than Romulus. Romulus's gaze travels down Brizio's blade, and he huffs, placing his short sword back on the rack. He then produces a huge, two-handed sword in his hands before raising his eyebrows at Brizio victoriously. Brizio simply sighs and facepalms with his free hand. The rest of the pack just watch the tension between the two boys unfold before their eyes. The only extra thing that Landon needs to make the situation better is some popcorn.

The careers spend the next hour practising on the dummies until it was decided that they should use the allocated sparring section on the training mat, next to the weapons section.

Landon is the first to step into the center. He selects two short, dummy swords and then turns back to Geneve, offering her one. "Shall we?" he asks with a spirited tone.

His district partner raises an eyebrow, instead going for a spear. "After you," she says, and gestures with her hand.

Landon readies himself in his fighting stance, with both his hands clasped tight around the hilt. He wastes no time in starting, swinging firmly at Geneve's neck – however, she blocks both strikes without much effort. "So," he begins. "You're a detective back at home, on top of a career, how'd that happen?"

The question takes Geneve off guard at first, and she turns slightly red, as their conversation is in the open for the rest of the careers to hear. However, she ignores her district partner - the only reply she gives is two jabs to the head with her spear. Landon deflects and sidesteps the attacks.

But Landon's face remains jovial; he responds by jabbing at her torso. "What was the most gruesome murder scene you ever witnessed?"

Geneve is extra fast this time. She pivots out of the way and strikes down on his sword hand simultaneously - the shock causes his hand to loosen its grip and his sword clatters to the mat. Then, she grabs his arm, and using her strength, she sweeps her district partner off of his feet, slamming him on the mat.

She points her spear tip at his throat in victory. "You may be about to find out," she smiles.

Landon chuckles, and Geneve hauls him back to his feet.

(Landon was never interested in winning the sparring match, he just wanted to find out more about his district partner, which failed, as it turns out.

But at least he learned something about her fighting style, and what moves she favours in a one on one fight.)

Together, Landon and Geneve move to the side, anticipating who is next to step up - it's Aida and Meridia. Aida makes quick work of the Two girl, with a furious determination to not lose in front of everyone else.

Geneve points to the Four girl. "I want to spar with her next time," she comments aloud.

"Tomorrow," Aida states, monotone, as she strolls past them.

"That's ok, I'm patient," Geneve mutters back.

But next up on the mat is Brizio and Romulus. Brizio begins circling the Two boy, the tall, slim boy grips his spear and narrows his eyes as a snake. "You finally got the right sword, I see."

"Not brought your teeth, this time?" Romulus retorts.

And everyone collectively takes a deep breath, in anticipation of the chaos that's undoubtedly about to go down.

Auren Demerre, 16

Where are they?

Auren spits out her stale gum, sticking it on the wall. She squints her eyes, scanning around the training center for the pair from Nine.

There they are, standing together by some training dummies, their backs facing Auren. The tall, slim boy is goofing about and giggling while the girl is motionless with her arms crossed.

Auren approaches them from behind, clearing her throat. "Urm… Chaney?"

The pair shift around to face her, and she makes sure to put on her permanent scowl - a defense mechanism in the same way that a hedgehog has spines. A precaution, in case either of them even think they have a chance at walking over her.

(No one will ever walk over Auren again.)

"Auren!" Chaney exclaims, throwing his arms out. "I-we were starting to worry you wouldn't show up."

Auren crosses her arms and turns her attention to his District partner, who promptly crosses her arms back at Auren and narrows her eyes. Auren squints her eyes tighter, and just before the room is about to hit boiling point, Chaney steps in between them.

"Oh, this is Briar… my urm… district partner," he says.

Auren and Briar continue to lock eyes in silence, both refusing to concede defeat and look away.

Chaney sighs. "Well, I'm gonna go and have a few goes on the dummies if anyone wants to join me… or you can just stand here and continue your staring contest, it's up to you."

Briar finally turns her gaze to Chaney, and in Auren's mind, she just accepted defeat - a small victory.

"You are the dummy," Briar mutters under her breath to her District partner. There was an underlying affection in her voice, which only further confirms Auren's theory about the two of them, a theory that has been growing in her mind from the moment she set eyes on them.

The girl from Ten follows the Nine pair to the training dummies, which have already been replaced after the careers tore the first ones up earlier. But now that the careers have finally moved on to an obstacle course, it has allowed the three to snatch up the space.

Chaney continues chatting away as they take their positions on the station, mostly to himself as neither Auren nor Briar are paying much attention to him. Finally, Auren rolls her eyes. "Do you ever stop talking?" she complains.

"Nope," Chaney responds, smugly.

Briar is the first to step up to the plate. She removes a black, ornate ring from her finger and places it down on the counter. Intrigued, Auren picks it up and inspects it as Briar heads over to the dummy.

"So… I take it he stole this for you, unless you're a thief too?" Auren says, holding it out in front of her eyes.

Briar spins around, glaring at the Ten girl. "Hands off," she orders. "If you know what's best for you."

Auren slowly places the ring down. "You seem awfully defensive about a stolen ring."

"Just don't touch my shit and we'll get on just fine."

Chaney's eyes are darting between the girls. "So… Auren… what's your weapon of choice?" he pipes up.

"It varies from situation to situation," Auren answers, still staring at Briar.

Eventually, Auren goes for the brass knuckles and begins slamming her fists into a training dummy, mostly aiming for the head until the face is barely recognizable.

Chaney looks at Briar. "I like her," he shrugs. Briar lets out a sigh.

The uneasy alliance spends the next couple of hours on the training dummies, which is fine by Auren; survival in this situation is about killing the others as quickly as possible, so why waste time on anything else?

But before they know it, lunchtime has already come around. Auren heads to the canteen, shoving the boy from Twelve out of the way to get to the food. The food itself is much better than anything Auren got at home.

After scooping some mashed vegetables and fish onto her plate, Auren turns back to her allies, who are already sitting at one of the tables. Chaney is babbling on as usual, while digging into his food, while Briar is mostly listening and stirring her food with a fork.

Auren can't believe she let Briar talk to her like that, back at the weapons station. A fight is surely going to break out between them, sooner rather than later, and Auren looks forward to it, so she can finally put the Nine girl in her place.

Briar catches Auren staring at her from the canteen, and Auren huffs in frustration, beginning to turn red.

She strides back over to her alliance's table, not taking her eyes off of Briar. Thus, she fails to notice the red-haired, lanky-limbed boy from Eleven, who is lost in his own world, playing his harmonica, and so, he fails to notice Auren as well - right up until they collide into one another.

CRASH

Auren's plate hits the floor, her food sprawling out in a decorative mess. Avoxes are fast to sweep in to clear it up.

"You moron!" Auren growls in fury at the Eleven boy.

"I'm s-sorry… I don't know what I was thinking," he stammers.

"Watch where you're going!" Auren smacks the boy's harmonica out of his hands, and when he reaches down to pick it back up, she kicks it across the floor.

But the boy stands up strong to Auren, refusing to be intimidated.

Is this boy brave or just plain stupid?

Either way, Auren can't help but respect his resolve for not backing down to someone who would happily smash his face in.

By now, the scene has got all the tributes and the trainer's attention, and the latter perk up, ready to intervene.

"Hey!" Chaney calls from across the room. He rushes over to where they are standing. "What's the matter with you? It was clearly an accident," he glares at Auren.

He picks the boy's harmonica up off the floor and hands it to him. "What's your name, dude?" he asks, patting him on the shoulder.

"Reese… Reese Haricot. My surname means bean, true fact!" the boy exclaims.

Chaney gives Auren a look as if to say "How could you?"

He then turns back to Reese. "Do you wanna come and sit with us?" he offers.

Auren rolls her eyes to the ceiling, then heads back to the canteen to get another plate of food.

Great, another idiot to drag along with us; listening to Chaney's nonsense is difficult enough.

But, there is some strength in numbers, Auren knows this all too well.

Once she's refilled her plate with more food, she re-joins her alliance but she almost has to do a double-take; now four other people are sitting at the table - Briar, Chaney, Reese, and a small freckled boy on the end.

"Who's this?" Auren asks, glancing at the new boy.

"Oh, this is my ally, Jarvis, he's from District Three!" Reese chimes.

Jarvis gives her a quick wave.

"The more the merrier!" Chaney adds.

Auren groans, this alliance is expanding faster than she's comfortable with.

"Also Auren… I wanted to apologise again for what happened before," Reese says with a smile.

"Yeah ok… whatever, Bean," Auren snaps back.

Reese's smile fades.

"Don't mind her," Briar starts. "She has two massive chips on each shoulder."

Auren sticks her middle finger up at Briar and shoots daggers, ready to explode. Once again, Chaney interrupts the tension, like a knife cutting through butter. "I know, why don't we all share random facts about ourselves," he suggests over a mouthful of food.

Auren couldn't think of anything worse.

"Great idea!" Reese exclaims, bright and excited. "I'll go first… back home, my mum was really sick." His eyes fall down to his lap. "Dying, in fact… but I bought these seeds off of a merchant and they grew into sunflowers and I used the petals to make soup for her to help her feel better."

"Wow, that's awesome, bro!" Chaney exclaims.

Auren closes her eyes with impatience. Who cares? She just manages to prevent herself from saying the words. She's not sure why this kid rubs her up the wrong way so much.

(Maybe it's because he reminds her of someone, someone buried deep down.

He reminds her of someone that wasn't allowed to exist. So, how come he gets to exist so unapologetically?)

Ozias Califera, 18

Ozias finished pouring the entire bottle of soap into the dishwasher.

"They're gonna be so mad," he said, facing his two siblings with a giggle.

"But you know what we can do later?" Aviana exclaimed.

"Oh?"

"Foam fight!"

"Yeah!"

They all burst out laughing together.

A fire still burns in the back of Ozias's mind; the fire that consumed his family and turned them to ash. That fire, caused by The Capitol's neglect, is the reason he's here in this training room, preparing himself to slaughter the other twenty-five tributes.

He knows that, as he peers around at their various faces, many of them are innocent. They deserve to die no more than little Aviana, or his brother Eston, or his sweet mother, or the good family man that his father was.

(But The Capitol made him a heartless monster, it was being a heartless monster that let him survive in this world.

And it will take a heartless monster to make any difference, to make sure more kids don't become like Ozias.)

I am making the greatest sacrifice anyone can make. I'm sacrificing my humanity.

So, why does he continue to let himself get distracted by the boy several meters away? Emery Vandermast. His ex is chatting with the careers at the weapons station, in particular the athletic boy from Four. Emery is blushing, and rubbing the career's biceps.

Ozias clenches his fists. "You always did suck at flirting," he mutters to himself under his gritted teeth.

Why is it bothering him so much? Emery is nothing to him now. How dare he get placed here, just to distract Ozias from his true mission. The former inmate shakes his head. No, this is a good thing; it means that not only will Ozias be able to get his revenge on The Capitol, but he'll also be able to kill the boy who ruined his life, the boy who placed him in that disgusting prison for all those months.

A smile lines Ozias's face again.

"Hello." A monotone, croaky voice interrupts Ozias's thoughts, and almost makes his heart jump, so much so that he almost reaches for his jacket pocket - where he usually keeps his knife.

The boy from Eight is standing before him, he is much shorter than Ozias but he must be around the same age. The boy clears their throat and stands up straight. "Ozias, from District Fourteen, am I correct?"

Ozias can't help but find this tribute slightly amusing, so he bites. "Uh-huh," he smiles. "You're from Eight, right?"

The tribute nods. "So, what were you in for, in District Fourteen I mean?" He asks.

"Murder," Ozias answers plainly.

(The murder of Gallus Adcock was common knowledge to everyone in his wing in Fourteen, just not all the murders before that.)

"Interesting," the boy responds.

"Does that… bother you?"

The tribute shakes their head. "Not at all." His tone is sincere and his posture is solid like a statue, so unless they are a great liar, Ozias supposes they are telling the truth.

"I'm Ren," the boy says, starting to circle Ozias like a shark. The killer barber from Rustvale simply raises his eyebrows with a twinkly smile.

"So… just the one?" Ren inquires.

"What?"

"Were you just in for one murder?"

(Does he suspect Ozias has killed more? He can't be that quick, surely.)

Ozias shrugs playfully. "Just the one," he affirms. "Although, the night is still young."

Ren stops circling for a moment, then a small giggle escapes his mouth. At least they seem to get Ozias' sense of humor.

"Who was it?" Ren asks.

"My boss." Ozias tilts his head smugly. "Well, former-boss now."

Ren bursts out into a giggle again and this time Ozias joins in; almost like he is back playing pranks with his siblings. Maybe he will entertain this strange, mysterious new acquaintance's presence after all.

But as a lightbulb, Ozias suddenly switches off his laugh. "What about you?" he asks.

Ren furrows their eyebrows. "What about me, what?"

"Who did you kill?"

Ren steps back, surprised. "What do you mean?"

Ozias snickers. "I'm a killer, do you think a killer doesn't know another killer when he sees one?"

Ren begins studying Ozias like a hawk. "Fair enough, my mentor wanted to keep it under wraps until my interview but I've got nothing to hide," he shrugs.

If that's true, then Ren's interview would be much like Ozias's.

(During the interviews, Ozias plans to confess to all his murders in front of the entire country, and how Emery turned the dead bodies into pies and fed them back to The capitol. There's no chance that this Ren will steal Ozias's thunder, is there? Unlikely. What's confessing to one murder compared to confessing to murdering countless souls, and then turning them into pies, and revealing that another tribute in the same games also had a hand in it?)

"It's ok. It can be our little secret up until the interviews," he says with a wink.

Ren strokes his chin. "Very well, a secret it is then… just like how you've only killed one person, right?"

Ozias's eyes widen. The little rat is smarter than he looks.

Ren smirks and starts to turn away from Ozias, but the boy from Fourteen grabs his shoulder to prevent him.

"Ok, very clever, smart-ass, but here's a word of warning - don't say nothin' to nobody until after the interviews or you'll regret it," the taller boy growls, and they both know that he could lay the smaller boy out if he wanted.

"Why would I? You keep my secret, and I'll keep yours?"

Ozias nods. "Just make sure you do."

Ren arrogantly glances down at Ozias's hand on his shoulder, like it's a dirty paw, signaling Ozias to release him - and he does just that. Then, the boy from Eight heads over to observe the obstacle course. It's a raised square of transparent plates. Most fall to the mat when pressure is applied, but a few are a bridge across; it's a test of problem-solving.

Ozias steps next to Ren at the edge of the obstacle course. "Is this really what you wanna start with?"

Ren shakes their head. "As soon as the careers have stopped hogging the weapons station, I'm going there… I'm interested to see what I can experiment with."

"Yeah, we should assert our dominance early," Ozias adds, but they both seem to be speaking at cross purposes.

They hop onto their own respective squares, and neither fall, yet.

"So, I told you who I killed but you never returned the favor, seems only fair, right?" Ozias says, turning to Ren.

Ren scans around the obstacle course, trying to decide which square to jump onto next. "Also someone from work," he answers. They leap onto the square diagonally-left of them – it holds strong. Then, they glance back at Ozias with icy-cold eyes. "Not my boss, a colleague… a very irritating one."

"Hm." Ozias jumps to the square directly right of him. "And volunteering was your last option to escape, I suppose?"

"Correct." Ren jumps diagonally again but this time the square buckles, sending him tumbling down to the mat below. "Fuck!"

Ozias chuckles to himself. This is exactly the sort of person he and Emery would have taken pleasure in killing in an alleyway back in Rustvale. But now it so happens that he can use this other tribute to get revenge on Emery, there's something beautifully ironic about that. Besides, if Emery is joining the careers, then this is Ozias's way of getting back at him; he doesn't need him anymore... he never did.

Ozias's eyes turn to his new ally lying on the floor beneath him, and he grins. He has Ren now, he doesn't need Emery.