Choux Macbeth, 18, District 1
This may be more difficult than I anticipated.
Choux lets the realization fall over her as her allies settle in the stations surrounding her. Other than Amatus, who leaves nothing to question, her allies reek with a strong sense of secrecy. Her own district partner seems to hide the most behind his back and he must know it. His guard has been up since the moment he and Choux were face to face on the train.
While everyone else rushes to claim their spot at various stations, Choux does anything but. For an hour, she wanders the floors, her eyes methodically falling on everyone around her. Some are loud. Many are quiet. Some…may prove to catch her attention all the same.
Eventually, Amatus demands she find a station. At home, Choux would do anything but. Yet she sees the lone fighter sparring with a trainer, and Choux is not one to miss a good opportunity.
She joins her ally at the station. They don't notice her, at least not for some time. It gives Choux the opportunity to watch how she moves. The confidence in certain steps, the quivers in others. Nondescript enough to hide from the naked eye.
She takes her own stance with the rapier, and eyes the trainer to take his place. Only when she's face to face do they acknowledge her.
"I thought you'd be elsewhere," Klara's voice is sharp. Choux knows her well enough to know it's natural.
"Nope," Choux gives no more than that. She takes her stance, inviting Klara to spar. They're hesitant. With a quick glance around them, she quickly realizes it's futile.
(And they're not one to back down from a fight.)
So they spar.
Klara makes the first move, but Choux has watched her enough to expect it. The dodge is easy, and the counter-hit is even easier, but it doesn't slow them down.
They're quick to duck and dodge to finesse their way behind Choux. A quick clash of blades and Choux is able to regain her advantage.
"I didn't take you for a hand-to-hand fighter," they say between breaths, not breaking her focus.
"Maybe I'm not." Choux is careful in her next movement. She defends and defends hard against Klara's relentless strikes.
"Could join Vitali throwing knives. He doesn't seem to talk much." They start to pull back, ever so subtly.
"Could." Choux's focus is not on her words but on her next actions. A quick swipe at their feet, and she's able to land a gentle strike at her neck.
Fast and painless, if she were out for blood.
Not yet.
Klara puts her weapon down, wiping the sweat that's formed over her brow. She spends a lot of time taking in Choux, maybe to figure out her game.
Choux wishes her luck.
"Throwing knives, then?" Choux suggests. Klara shrugs. Like Choux, they have little desire to join…some of the louder tributes.
Sooner or later, Choux will find herself with them. But not now, not when everything is falling into place.
"You need to watch your stance," the trainer sounds exacerbated with their instructions to Vitali. He's red-faced, especially as his allies approach.
Klara holds her hand out and Vitali hands them the knife. Klara wipes the handle. Within a blink, the knife is embedded in the target's face, on the edge of the bullseye.
"See? It's simple." The trainer praises Klara, but she doesn't really care. They're not here to impress anyone.
She's here for another reason. Anyone can see that.
Choux finds herself, once again, putting in the pieces of a large picture under the noses of each of her allies. One that will prove useful in the days to come.
All while blacking out her own picture.
Her eyes fall to the one that interests her the most. She's sparring with Amatus, and surprisingly holding her own ground. Not winning, not even close, but Amatus is amused.
Choux doesn't know if he will let her join the alliance. It depends on how her performance stands up to Dahlia's.
(Regardless, Choux will cast her net.
And she will let the fish tangle in her trap.)
It turns out everyone around her may make this so much easier than it should be.
Eleanora Darsky, 17, District 5
Careers are exhausting.
It's barely been a few hours and Eleanora is exhausted at the idea of Amatus Zanetti. His endurance in sparring is one thing. But it's the words that flow out of his stupid mouth that really get under her skin. His short-sighted view of her and her abilities.
She wants to shut him up. Forever.
She didn't quite have the intention to spar with him. She merely wanted to get her hands on a weapon and start "impressing them". What that meant, she still isn't sure. But better to get a grip on the stations around her than make a fool of herself instantly.
"You're gonna have to do more than this to impress us," he said as he interrupted her sword session. He takes the sword from the trainer's hand, effectively dismissing him. For as pretentious as Capitolites are, the action quiets him. He takes his leave, forcing Eleanora into a delicate situation.
"Maybe I'm warming up." Eleanora takes a step back, preparing for the first strike. But it doesn't come.
"Maybe you're wasting time." He spins the weapon in his hand. Cocky, but stupid.
She makes her first strike and he's quick to block it. It was a bait.
And Eleanora ate it up.
(She remembers her self-training. She pulls from the bits and pieces of the Games she poured over. The limited reading material she had access to all pales in comparison to the brutish boy towering over her with nothing to lose.
How could she possibly hope to compete?)
So she focuses on holding her own, which falls much more naturally to her. A side step here, a dodge there, all in hopes of wearing the boy out.
Like anything could.
He strikes her down after some time. More time than he must have been expecting, based on his reaction. And to Eleanora's surprise, he nods.
"Impress me, Five." Three words are all he has for her.
He moves onto the station the Fours have claimed, determined to disrupt their day as well. And it gives her a moment to decompress.
Keep yourself together, you idiot. This is what you wanted. The thoughts bring Eleanora back to reality – back to her reality. She deserves to be here just like Amatus does. The longer he looks down on her, the less he'll see of her true potential.
And it'll be his head that falls first.
But she can't deny that her arms are sore. When she returns as Victor, she's setting up an Academy immediately. No longer will Five fall to the wayside. Not on her watch.
Yet a break is simply a waste of time, which is already so restrictive here in the Capitol. So she withdraws to survival stations, knowing it's where Careers always fall short.
She's surrounded mostly by outliers, some older and some younger. None pay her much attention. Some of the smaller ones, like the boy from Eleven, actively avoid her.
So, she notices immediately when she's joined at the fire starting station.
"What are you doing here?" She has no shame in her question, and Choux Macbeth's reaction gives her no reason to have any. Her stoic face doesn't drop.
(It's like she had expected this reaction.)
"Weapons were crowded." Her tone almost intimidates Eleanora. The calculated syllables, the deadpan expression. A smile so soft, yet so cold.
Almost.
"Please. Show me what you know." Eleanora gestures to the station, a meager unlit fire made by the previous occupant. To Eleanora's surprise, Choux kneels down on the fake dirt and takes it apart neatly. Methodically.
Then, she just as carefully arranged the materials into something resembling a fire. Eleanora thinks nothing of it, not until Choux lights it.
"Wow, bravo!" The trainer claps obnoxiously. As if that's the first fire she's ever seen.
Everything is handed to them on a silver platter. How fair is it, for your odds of winning the Games to be merely determined by the place you were born?
And how is she the only one to see that?
"The Careers are distractable this year," Choux whispers to the girl.
"What?" Eleanora hadn't expected her to speak.
"But you're not," she continues. She raises her head, eyes falling on each of the Careers that surround them. "Don't lose sight of the end goal."
Questions unravel in her brain, but the District One girl moves on before any of them leave her lips.
Amatus Zanetti is insufferable. But Choux Macbeth…Choux might prove to be Eleanora's biggest advantage.
Maybe they can make the Careers something else entirely.
Maybe. Just maybe…
Roman Euroka, 16, District 9
With Luca's advice this morning, Roman finds himself pleasantly well-integrated into the training stations around him.
(Others could hardly say the same.)
But he's tried to focus solely on himself, a feat much harder than he ever anticipated.
(Anytime it happened at home, his perception of the world shifted. Things he was able to ignore pushed to the forefront of his mind.)
The only thing that surrounds him now are those invasive thoughts.
At least he can fight here.
Getting into a fighting ring is the only thing he has his mind set on the second he sees the ring. He's the first one over there, excited as a kid on their first day of school.
He remembers the excitement on Ermias' face when they got to walk to school together for the first time. It didn't matter that Roman didn't need to be there for another hour.
When he comes home, he'll still walk Ermias to school. He wonders how much further the Victor's Village is from the school.
(He needs to get there first. He doesn't know how he will. But anything else is just not an option he's willing to entertain.)
Hand-to-hand fighting will certainly help get him there. As the minutes turn into hours, the trainer teaches him the basics, and Roman politely lets him.
But once the trainer realizes how much potential the young boy has, Roman works harder than he's ever worked before.
He remembers the first fight he had. He was knocked on his ass within seconds. But the adrenaline that followed, the excitement to jump straight back up after being knocked down over and over again…it strengthened him.
That same feeling rushes back to him now.
"If you're ever caught with your arms restrained, your elbows will be your biggest asset. I've seen Careers taken down with a hefty elbow to the back of the neck." The trainer eagerly teaches Roman all he knows. Maybe he's just passionate about his sport.
(Maybe he sees Roman's passion, too.)
(When was the last time Roman was seen?)
"Where did you learn?" a soft voice catches his attention. He turns to his district partner, whose eyes strike through his own.
He tries to remember what station he's seen her at. He can't recall.
"Oh, uh, I taught myself. I guess. I mean, eventually, you learn which punches hurt the most and you start just doing that," Roman laughs in an attempt to lighten the mood. He's not sure it works.
She's not your focus. Don't make her your focus. Your brother is your focus. Your family. Yourself.
(So simple, yet so foreign.)
"Wow. That's…impressive." Her awe strikes a familiarity within Roman. A conversation replays in his mind with Ermias.
"You fight? That's so cool!" In utter awe, Ermias wraps his arms around his sore body. Every squeeze sends a new pain across his muscles, but Roman enjoys every moment of it.
That's what he's fighting for. That's the only person that matters through all of this.
So, when Hem inquires about the possibilities of an alliance, Roman already knows his response.
(That doesn't make it any less painful when her eyes drift away from him, a redness falling over her cheeks.)
"We can train together, though. I mean, if you want to," Roman tries. He has to try.
(For once in his life, he needs to not.)
"No, that's okay. I can find another station." He hopes his relief isn't as visible as it feels.
Silence fills the room. He doesn't know what to say now, nor as Hem pulls away towards another station.
And yet, all Roman can think about are his brothers.
(Guilt is temporary. Death is permanent. As difficult as it is now, Roman has to be there for his brother.
God knows no one else will be.)
Astel Norwood, 17, District 7
With the first day of training here, many tributes seem overwhelmed at the options laid out in front of them. Which weapon to start with? Who could they ally with? Who should they avoid?
Fortunately, Astel is not one of those tributes.
"What station do you recommend?" She asks the head trainer as soon as she dismisses the group. The woman is taken aback by the question, but eagerly directs her towards a series of survival stations.
To be expected.
With most of the stations empty, Astel gains a world of knowledge before anyone can distract her.
It's only day one, and she feels more confident than half of the kids around her look.
There's more to the Games than just shelter building and weapon wielding. Astel has never been one to relish in the bloodshed on television, but she's astute enough to know there's one thing that is so heavily overlooked yet so vitally important. Time and time again, a life is saved because of it. When a tribute is on the edge of starvation, of dehydration, when the infection starts to set in, all it takes is a little metal container and they're brought back from the brink.
If she truly wants to see Seven again, she'll need that advantage.
After she's comfortable building shelters with various sets of materials, she moves to axes. A carpenter's axe has been in her life since she was born, but Astel feels most comfortable with a pickaxe in her grip. A rarer item, for sure. But the skillset is just as transferable.
A large boy stands beside her, throwing axes into a newly-scratched target. Being from Ten, she wasn't sure what skills hid behind his quiet demeanor. Now, she thinks she has a clue.
"Keep your dominant hand on top," Astel says as he grips the handle of the axe. He must not have expected her to speak, as her words seem to startle him ever so slightly. He doesn't reply, but she watches him shift his right hand over the other and throws.
Anyone else would be proud of that shot. This boy, however, just seems ambivalent.
"Astel Norwood. Seven." She holds out her hand to shake. The boy awkwardly takes it, after some time.
"Vet…Vetiver." He reaches for another axe, but his hand finds nothing as the weapon rack is empty. His eyes fall to the trainer, who saunters out to his target to retrieve them all.
Now or never.
"Well Vetiver, I'd like to offer an alliance. I think we would both find benefit alongside one another in the arena." She leans in ever so slightly as if to keep a secret from prying ears. "We might be the strongest pair, besides the Careers, of course."
Astel thinks her reasoning is very logical. He saw what she can do. He even saw her willingness to help him out. Clearly, this is the best opportunity for them both.
So when he hesitates before answering, Astel springs into action.
"You'll be joining Owain and myself, of course. As a strong trio, we'll be able to make it to the end."
Vetiver looks at Astel, then over at Owain at one of the obstacle courses.
"Okay…sure. Uh, that sounds fine," Vetiver says.
"Great. Tag up with us tomorrow. We'll formulate a plan." Astel secures their alliance with a handshake and Vetiver finds himself content at another weapons station.
Tomorrow is perfect. Tomorrow will give her time to secure Owain into her alliance.
Vetiver won't ever find out, because Owain won't refuse her a second time.
Astel snaps back to reality to find a new station to train at. As her eyes wander, they fall on something quite…interesting.
She sees her walking away from the station with her District partner. She looks defeated. A rejected alliance, maybe.
Astel is not one to shy away from a rich opportunity.
(She might not be the most conventional ally, but sometimes the most important resource isn't strength or skill. It's who's backing you.
Someone related to the mayor of Nine is bound to have some cash to back them up.)
She puts on her best smile and joins the girl at plant identification. The girl takes note of Astel immediately, but she can't decide whether to cower or smile, so she does a bit of both.
Astel eases her nerves with a smile. A genuine one, at that. How could she not smile? This girl will prove to be most valuable to Astel.
She just has to play her cards right.
Dahlia Akhem, 18, District 8
There's nothing special about her.
At first, the thought frustrates Dahlia. How could anyone look at the two of them and even think they're on the same level?
But as the morning passes, Dahlia realizes that's going to be her biggest advantage.
It leaves all the room for her to shine.
She knows she's being watched. By the Gamemakers. By the trainers. By some of the other tributes, though they'd be stupid to admit it to her.
But most definitely by the Careers.
Some are subtle. A glance here and there from the Ones and Fours. Some, less so. Amatus in particular finds entertainment in her choices.
(Something she's utterly familiar with. Crowds of eyes falling on her as she performs.
For those watching it's merely a moment of escape from their mundane lives. For Dahlia, it's how she survives.
And nothing about her life is mundane.)
So she holds her head up and continues performing. Because that is the only way she will see this through.
Dahlia Akhem does not fall short of her goals.
Without waiting for her turn, she pushes through to the front of the obstacle course. The Twelves glare at her. Well, the girl glares at her. The boy avoids eye contact.
And yet none of it stops Dahlia from climbing straight to the top of the rope like she's done so many times on the stage at home.
The music blasts through the auditorium. The light bounces off her skin. The sound of people clapping and hollering are indistinguishable, as are their faces.
They are no one to Dahila. Just a means to an end.
Without intending to, her rope charades turns into her 'Ruby' performance. Humming along, she can feel the eyes on her.
She can see Eleanora's eyes. Her glare.
It only makes Dahlia want to perform more.
But it's only the first day and she must keep up her spectacle for another few days.
Every moment is carefully calculated. No decision is left up to chance.
Dahlia Akhem intends to return to the training center after her inevitable Victory.
And if the Careers can't see that, then it's their loss.
Yet when she climbs down, there's only one person applauding her.
"What an impressive display, Akhem." Dahlia would punch him if she could. Instead, she takes an overexaggerated bow.
"Impressive enough?" Yet she plays into his cockiness. His methodical desires.
(A game she's been playing all her life for men unworthy of her presence.)
"Ah, I didn't say that." Amatus smiles, his eyes falling on the obstacle course she just departed. "They might give you a run for your money."
As Dahlia looks, she can see just the blur of the girl from Twelve jumping across the ropes, as effortlessly as a squirrel.
Dahlia's face presents amusement so as to not display her true sentiment towards the rat in front of her.
The Careers are no more than a means to an end. An expressway to Victory. It's only noon and…and the possibilities are endless.
She's seen what Eleanora is offering. It's impressive…for a Five. But it's so…safe.
The best performers can improvise even in the most dire of circumstances.
(Fortunately for Dahlia Akhem, Eleanora isn't a performer.)
Amatus Zanetti, 18, District 2
It's only noon, and Amatus is having the time of his life.
So many personalities are shoved into this small room, and Amatus gets to relish in it all. All the while, he gets to stay on top.
It's amusing how they're all fighting for his attention. When Eleanora gave her proposal, he knew he would have fun with it. When Dahlia gave hers, the doors opened in his mind to the idea of a 'competition'.
Let the best tribute win, all while revealing their strengths and weaknesses to the strongest Career here.
And they're so utterly unaware of his doings.
He sits beside Choux at the lunch table. Klara and Vitali are on the other side of him. Cali and Ronan sit across, ever so focused on the meal in front of them.
"After lunch, I want everyone to take a station they haven't been to. I want us spread out. I don't want the others to get…complacent in their training. They should fear us."
A few Careers share quiet glances with each other. Vitali scratches the back of his neck. A slight eye roll from Klara.
Yet it's the one he least expects to speak up.
"Where will you go, then?" Choux asks.
Of course, he knew where he would actually go. But he tells her what she wants to hear in its place.
"Archery. I have yet to brush up on my accuracy today." Amatus could kill a tribute with a bow if it came down to it.
(Depending on how fast they were moving, it might take an arrow or two.)
But he actually intends to observe his allies. He suspects they all picked their strongest stations this morning. He wants to displace them, to make them sweat.
He wants to see weakness.
"That sounds great." Choux returns to her meal, and Amatus thinks nothing of the interaction.
Not until she appears beside him in the training room.
"Archery?"
Why is she here?
"Sure." With a smile on his face, he allows her to lead him toward the one station he had little desire to visit today.
He has never, and he will never display weakness.
It doesn't take long for him to wonder why Choux joined him at this station. Her aim is subpar at best, giving Amatus the appearance of the best sharpshooter in the building.
He'll take it. He just doesn't understand it.
"I saw Klara over here, earlier. Just for a few minutes. Their aim was impeccable," she says as she releases another arrow. This one skewers through the edge of the target fabric.
"I didn't notice," he says, hitting his second bullseye for the day.
"I'm surprised. I thought you had an eye on everyone." She sets the bow down.
"Are you questioning me?" Amatus faces the girl for the first time since lunch. Arms crossed over her chest, an innocence projecting from her large eyes.
"You've fallen into second place, Amatus."
"He's just working harder than you."
"You've grown complacent."
"I just thought you should know." Her words are soft and nonthreatening.
He relaxes his grip on the bow. He ignores the ache that reminds him of his temper.
He ignores what he had to do the last time someone dethroned him.
Twenty-three are poised to die before Amatus returns home. Here in training, he will merely observe their weaknesses. That way in the arena, he is poised and ready for blood.
The circumstances behind Renatus' death were a fluke. A minor…misjudgment in Amatus' overarching victory.
(Not like he didn't have it coming.)
His return home to the District will prove once and for all who is deserving of the crown.
omg I'm back!
big big thank you to District11-Olive for beta'ing as always I appreciate you lots
I apologize for the delay in chapter. It's definitely been a rough handful of weeks for me but I'm hopefully through the worst of it and back to regular updates?
maybe not every two weeks. we'll see how the next chapter plays out.
next chapter will feature ronan, klara, Davidson, owain, vetiver, and reagan.