Ai Latier, 12- District Three male

My father's hands moved so deftly I couldn't even keep track of them. I never had been able to follow him when it came to electronics or schematics. I only came to these lessons to be with him and to help out my brothers and sisters. I sometimes wished I was better at that sort of thing, but I was weirdly lucky to have a father with such different skills than mine. Everyone had their own skills, Dad said, and none were more valuable than the others. It meant more from him than it would have from anyone else, since Beetee Latier was one of the most legendary geniuses in Three's history.

My own lack of mathematics and logic skills had no bearing on the question of nature vs. nurture. Like all of Beetee's children, I was adopted. So many people in Three thought intelligence was the only thing that mattered. They thought Dad was amazing, and they were right, but that wasn't why. Dad was amazing because when he won the Games, the first thing he did was fill his huge new house with as many abandoned children as he could possibly take. People always thought Dad sat around all day pensively holding his chin and jotting down esoteric formulas. It was more common to see him bottle-feeding our newest addition or festooned in glitter and scarves because Cobalt was playing dress-up. He didn't just take us in. He loved us. I hoped when I was a man I would be just like him.

Tera made a frustrated noise as she threw her circuit down on the table. "It won't work!" she said, scowling.

"It's okay," I said. "You can do it."

"It's stupid," Tera said. She was probably the smartest of the seven of us kids currently in the household. She just didn't have patience or dedication. She was so smart she thought if something didn't come instantly to her then clearly it was impossible. People like me developed patience by necessity. I was not what you would call a fast thinker. If I wanted to get somewhere, I had to be prepared for a slow, plodding trip.

"Maybe you're stupid," Eniac teased. Dad didn't stop him, since Tera was very confident in her intelligence and it wasn't a sensitive spot. Siblings gotta tease, but we made sure it was just teasing.

"Where's it not connecting?" I asked.

"Here," Tera sulked, pointing to the spot.

I took a look at the circuit. Tera was trying to light up a light bulb using a mostly drained battery and some frayed wire, since Dad was trying to simulate Arena conditions. The indicators she had placed along the circuit showed exactly where the current had stopped flowing. I wasn't much for electricity but you never knew- maybe I'd find something.

"Is the wire clean?" I asked. Maybe there was something on there that was blocking the conduction.

"Oh… yeah, I forgot to clean it," Tera said. She carefully disconnected the parts so she wouldn't shock herself. She ran a lint-free wipe over the wire and reattached it. Immediately the bulb glowed faintly. Tera deftly adjusted a few parts and then it was as bright as could be.

"We did it!" she crowed. It might have seemed like I got more out of the climbing lessons or the knife-throwing days, but I thought I could gain something from everything, even the things I wasn't good at. Even if I didn't gain any skill at all I would still see how people who were good at it proceeded. If I ever got Reaped- which was why we did this training- I would need to know my competition's skill as well.

"Good job," Dad said. He didn't have to specify that he meant both of us. I always knew he did. He valued my more conventional siblings' intelligence, but he valued my patience as well. Intelligence was knowing how to light up a light bulb with a "dead" battery. Wisdom was knowing you should wipe the wire off.

Yarrow Venus, 17- District Three female

"So what's Beetee like?"

At the moment all I could think about was strategy. I was sure eventually the reality of all this would kick in and I'd be terrified, but I hadn't gotten there yet. I was still numb and that gave me time to figure out what sort of person I needed to be in front of Beetee. Clearly being his favorite Tribute was out the window, since Ai was his son, but I needed to at least be appealing.

"He's super nice!" Ai had been staring out the window, looking back like he might somehow be able to see Three way back behind us, but he came alive at my question. "People think he's all smart and brainy but he's actually super fun."

"Oh. That's nice." I could have covered up the note of bitterness but I chose to let it through. I wasn't going to ally with Ai- it would be moronic to ally with someone our mentor would do anything to protect if we were the final two- so I didn't need to put on my face with him.

"It's okay if you don't like electronics or traps and things like that. He helps with other stuff too." Ai seemed grateful for the distraction from his thoughts. It wasn't fair, but I wanted to hate him as he talked about how much he loved Beetee. I'd never had a connection like that with my family. I could remember every bit of how it felt to be adopted- the suspicion that the couple wanted a kid for free labor or something worse, the ambivalence of looking at two strangers and failing to imagine us as a family, and the bitterness that this moment had come when I was so far past the age when I would have been euphoric. At that very moment I'd mentally challenged them to make me believe we'd really be a family. They'd been nothing but kind to me since the moment they took me home, but somehow I'd never been convinced.

"I suppose you have all sorts of training." That time I managed to keep my tone civil. I could hardly blame Beetee for wanting to prepare the children he loved. My own parents had been too afraid of Capitol reprisals to try anything. I could hardly blame them for not wanting their daughter to be orphaned twice.

"I know a little about climbing and stuff," Ai said. Then he looked me right in the face in a way I wasn't sure anyone ever had. "You're mad at him, aren't you?"

I tried to shove back the ugly emotions trying to spill out. "No," I lied.

"He couldn't take everyone," Ai said. It was only then that I really hated him. Of course Beetee couldn't take everyone. That didn't change the fact that he was the first time I'd hoped in all the years Ai and I had been in that home. Ai seemed to have a prospect at least once a year. They'd all fallen through- finances, unsatisfactory living conditions, red tape, whatever- but people like him. People wanted him. Beetee was the first time any of the potential parents had looked at me. He'd looked right at me, right in the eye. Then he walked past without a word and all I saw was his back.

"He could take you." The words were low and humming with malice.

"It had to be a boy." The words were so unexpected my brain didn't even go the obvious route and conclude sexism. I was just baffled.

"He only had one open bed and it was in a room with another boy," Ai said. "It's illegal for adopted parents to room different-gender kids together. He couldn't have taken you."

I couldn't believe I hadn't thought of that. After the first few months I'd been so sure no one would pick me that I'd never really given a thought to the legalities of it all. The malice ebbed away in me but I barely felt the difference. It didn't make a dent in the bitterness that welled up in its place. So Beetee didn't pass me by because he didn't like me. It made no difference. I still didn't have anyone I loved.

"Oh," I said. I put on a smile I was no longer confident could fool Ai. "Now I feel better."

"Just wait until you meet him! He's gonna love you!" Ai's eyes sharpened just a little as he belatedly wondered if he should have used that word. I wasn't offended, though. I was just thinking how nice it must be to have such faith.

Ai's form said Beetee had a lot of adopted children so I rolled with it and in this universe Beetee is an absolute national treasure.