The 86th Annual Hunger Games

Magnus sat at the head of the dinning table, his elbows folded and his chin resting on his hands in a gesture that would otherwise appear to be contemplation. And, true, he was contemplating, but that seemed to be a mild word for all the thoughts being shot around in his head at any given time. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. So much to go on. He'd watched carefully from a special viewing box during the Parade with all the other district's mentors and escorts and plethora of Capitol people who staffed the annual Hunger Games. From the lighting people, to the camera people, to the directors, to those who were reporting directly from the scene or the announcers and that. He'd watched the whole thing. Of course he'd watch the recap, his behind-the-scenes viewpoint wouldn't not be sufficient enough. And in the case with the recap he'd be able to grill his students and be able to read their reactions.


Unlike any other student tributes he's mentored in the past, these two have left him more confused and anxious to know more than any other he's ever had. Truly a phenomena he could not ignore, he would witness more in the recap, but from his personal perspective live on the scene, the Capitol's citizens had had his same reaction.


He became aware of Baron sitting down at the table. Magnus looked up. Baron was looking at his plate, to intentionally or unintentionally refusing to chance looking up and meeting his stare, he wasn't sure.


When Baron got to the floor he went off in search of his room. Which he had to note was downright luxurious and so huge he could fit his whole home back in District 4 in it comfortably. He hesitated a few steps upon entering before setting his head straight. He wanted to get out of this body paint that completely covered his body that made him a metalic shiny golden-bronze. Not bothering with the complicated knot that kept his whole "drapes and sheets" ensemble together he simply tore the ridiculous fabric away and stripped it away. Upon stepping into the shower he realized he had no idea how to operate it, the controls almost completely incomprehensible. But before he could start pressing random buttons, one of the Avox servants knocked and let himself in. He was an older man of about late forties, early fifties. Swiftly and silently - of course - he demonstrated how to use the shower.


Water showered down above his head from what felt like a waterfall, Baron nodded gratefully. He opened his mouth to thank the Avox, but the man simply shook his head and left the room. Baron frowned but continued to wash himself off of all the paint with one of the various soap options as shown to him. He washed the metallic gunk from his hair one of the soaps cutting through all of the gunk and making his hair smooth and soft after. When he was done and turned off the water, a air dryer turned on and dried him off within thirty seconds. Baron assed himself in the mirror, his skin had such a healthy glow, making even his tan skin just a slight shade darker though he was sure that wasn't needed. His freckles were nearly barely noticeable. As far as Baron was conserned, standing here in the Capitol, he didn't look anything like himself, but he felt more like himself than he ever had. Like things were coming together. He went into his room with his towel around his waist. Baron went through the dresser, found a pair of white slacks that looked casual enough and a button up shirt in a pale blue colour.


He walked into the dinning room with his sleeves up to his elbows and shirt buttoned it up three or four buttons from the collar. Not bothering to put on a pair of shoes, he went barefoot. Just because he was in the Capitol didn't mean he had to dress up for a simple dinner. Baron took a seat at the table, very aware of Magnus's eyes on him. For the second time he found himself thinking, He's staring at me. Not wanting to meet them he kept his eyes on the meal the Avox servants were serving him.


 
Sterling quietly sat at the left side of Magnus. She had pulled her now blonde and slightly blue hair into a ponytail, and sat in her chair, patiently awaiting Baron's arrival. She had no idea what to do, either talk to Magnus, or stay quiet and wait for Baron. She chose to stay quiet and wait. She fiddled with the leather necklace around her neck, and picked at the dark blue nail polish on her fingernails. The polish felt foreign to her fingers; she didn't like it when her nails were covered. She had never liked nail polish on her nails as a kid, or growing up. Sterling felt a swarm of awkwardness around the room as she and Magnus sat in complete silence. The Avox weren't helpful either; and the only sound that they made was a clattering of dishes on the tables.


She had managed to scratch the nail polish off of three nails before Baron came. She still didn't say a word; and watched as the men had a duel of staring. She looked at he plate, and cleared her throat before pulling her hand out of her pockets. She looked at the door as it opened and the two stylists entered. Sterling silent sighed and waited to receive her punishment for disobeying. By the look on both of the stylists' faces were not fully angry. They were low of a confused and angry expression. "What the hell were you guys doing it here?" Helena asked furiously, "You did the opposite of what we old you! Why?!" She added with the same furious-ness in her voice. Sterling looked up from her plate and glanced at Helena. "We were doing hat we wanted and proving that nobody her owns us." She told Helena flatly. She exchanged looks wih Baron and then to Magnus for the first time.
 
Baron was sitting across the table from Sterling. He couldn't help but compare how much more beautiful she looked when she was natural rather than coated in artificial layers of makeup. He wished the Stylists could see it. But their judgement was obviously so marred by the standard of the Capitol it would be useless to press the matter. So when their Stylists started arguing, he met Sterling's gaze and gave her a reassuring look, his face tightening, lips pressing into a line.


"You can't do that!" Baron's Stylist roared. The two strange Capitol people obviously angered that their work had been so carelessly been thrown away, seeing the two disobey them as well as washing off all the make-up as soon as they got back.


Baron stood suddenly, the force knocking his chair back. "Yes, we can." Baron's voice was as projected as loud as the two Stylists, making no attempt to spare their feelings. His jaw set, the muscles in his arms tensing and his fists clenched. "We're the one's being murdered in cold blood. You have no right to determine how any tribute lives their last few days of pea--"


"Everyone sit down!" This time it came from Magnus. The two Stylists immediately took their seats. Baron stared at him. Magnus looked more like he was searching his face rather than staring him down that no matter what, Baron wouldn't be able to overcome. After a few silent moments Baron took his seat, his chair having been rightened by an Avox. There were a another few tension charged silence before Magnus spoke again. "How did you two perceive your performance this night?"


This caught Baron off gard. He'd expected yelling and accusations. Which to a degree was what they got, but he was controlled and thoughtful rather than angry. Baron opened his mouth but it took a few moments to speak. "I thought it was...powerful. It got the crowd's attention."
 
Sterling sat quietly as Baron stood up and made his point. She couldn't help but notice how good he looked with his freckles back. She hoped that the stylists would see that, but they didn't. Both of the stylists were obsessed with makeup and other crap to notice was natural features both of them could bring to the arena. She looked between the interesting stylists and the strong, and confident Baron. She agreed with everything that Baron was standing up for, and everything he was going against. Sterling gently scratched her hair, but brought her hand down when Baron stood up. He muscles were rippling, his body tensing up, and his voice getting louder.


Then to calm the madness, Magnus' voice rang out, and his question caught her by surprise. She replayed in he mind how the crowd had reacted to their chariot ride. "I think they were surprised, but enjoyed something new. I mean, they were all over us, enjoying every second of our chariot parade." She told Magnus with the normal volume that she would use with her voice. Sterling pushed the hair that had fallen out of her ponytail behind her ears. She wondered how Magnus would react to their answers.
 
Sylvia forced herself to at least look a little less idiotic during the parade. She smiled and tried making eye contact while deep inside, she was cursing herself and some other people for not being in a better district. The careers had it all, she thought--the skill, the charm, good stylists. She was starting to realize that the Games, well... They weren't simply games. As she looked at the ignorant faces of Capitol people rejoicing at the thought of having kids battle it out to the death, she started to have a sudden paradigm shift that made her look at the other side of things. As a little girl, she loved the thought of Capitol and how flamboyant and rich everything there was. But now that she was finally in it, she realized that it was full of cold, mostly stupid people.


Having survived the parade was a great relief to her. As soon as they got back to their apartment, she dashed into the shower, making sure she got rid of every inch of the horrid looking green paint on her. Then, once she was sure that she was clear of any green paint, she sighed in relief and changed into a pale pink dress they'd set for her. She pulled her hair out of its awkwardly messy bun and started to brush it until it felt softer and a bit more familiar against the back of her neck and her shoulders. She put on the beribboned ballet flats that they'd chosen that matched her dress before looking at herself in the mirror. She sighed in relief seeing that the green skin was gone and she could finally see her Capitol-polished, pale freckled skin again. She looked like herself, as far as she could remember but maybe she wasn't just there to prove a point to her parents. Maybe she needed to find herself and find out the truth about the seemingly perfect world Capitol appeared to be. She opened a drawer and was glad to see that they'd taken care of the lace choker she brought from home. Wanting to feel a bit more like herself again, she took it, ran her finger along the engraved names of Lovelace girls in the past and put it on. She smiled at her reflection before walking out to the dining room.


Seeing Jett and her mentor were already there, she made brief apologies for taking so long in the shower and sat herself down. Dinner started out quiet and the only thing she could here was the clattering of utensils and plates. She watched as the Avox were here and there getting food on and off the table. The food was delicious, actually and she thought she'd eaten more in that one meal than she ever had in her entire life. But what she was really focusing on was her partner, Jett. While other tributes might have already been comfortable with their partners at this point of time, Sylvia knew that she and Jett barely knew each other. Especially now that she had the feeling that he thought she was some kind of shallow, spoiled brat, she didn't know how to open up communication with him. Both of them seemed like introverts and besides, Jett had sort of a conspiracy going on in his mind. She liked him for some reason. Probably because he seemed smarter than other boys their age. Probably because he seemed like a deeper thinker than them. She sighed, trying to grope around for any conversation starter she could while avoiding the parade topic at all means. "Umm..." She pushed her food around her plate. "So, first day of training tomorrow, huh?"
 
Magnus Fairfax turned his attention to the girl, and pointed at her as if it were to emphasize her point. "Yes, that is it exactly. Its drama, its the tension, its the message, the innocence. That is what the Capitol craves, what the Gamemakers synthesize artificially in the arena for their entertainment. That is the Hunger Games, to the Capitol, the Games is nothing but the biggest most awaited event of the year, meaning the best entertainment there is. Even as the standards of the Capitol go, they need someone to root for during the Games, someone to put their hope and desires in. They need people like you, you two. You are everything the Hunger Games is about."


Baron didn't look completely convinced. He was sure Magnus would have been furious with them. "Wouldn't we be targets to the Gamemakers? We've just proven that we have the ability to break the rules. What do you say for that?"


"I'd say you have a lot to learn." Magnus snickered, a short crystal glass containing a dark amber liquid to his lips. He took a swallow and tipped his head to the side with a smile. Baron's features tightened at both being called incompetent and dismissed for the Capitol's fancy alcohol. "Always miss Capitol whiskey." Magnus raised a hand of appease. "You have to understand that what the Gamemakers might see as a threat, the Capitol's citizens see as endearment. The Gamemakers opperate solely for the citizens. Everything they do is for them, their entertainment. The only way you can ensure your safety is proving yourself so valuable to the Gamemakers by making the citizens form an attachment to you."


Jett sat down at the dinning table less than gracefully. He'd finished up washing the paint and whatever else his blundering prep team had "decorated" him with. He felt the need to want to burn the hideous clothing after he'd stripped them away, feeling like no human being had committed such a crime to be forced to where such uncomfortable, irritating, ill-fitting, eye-numbing clothing. Jett thought he was just imagining it, what with his utter aversion to the costume get-up, that he thought that after a while it started burning his skin. That was impossible. Surely they wouldn't use acidic paint on them. After he'd scrubbed himself raw, he'd discovered the Capitol's new skin tone for him which turned out to be a dark reddish-brownish-russet-tan colour that was hard to describe. It contrasted with his short pitch black hair and his light pale green eyes.


In his bed room suite he found a grey sweater laid out for him with black pants and a pair of soft black leather dress shoes. He slipped them on and went out to the dinning room to eat. He took his place at the table and immediately dug in. He had a hard time getting food and living off of it. He seemed to require to eat so much more than others. That was a problem for him back in his District when food was harder to come by, and would be even moreseo difficult in the arena, but here in the now in the Capitol with wonderful plentiful delicious Capitol food, he was fine with that.


"Yup. Training." Jett replied and stuffed another bite in his mouth. "How pleasurable that will be. Don't know what I look forward to the most. Watching the Careers, full of themselves, trying to out match their competition and intimidate those not in their alliance. Or perhaps learning to handle the most vicious looking of weapons, hoping to master it in the few days given, living off the biased fantasy that one might possible be able to take down one of their foes, had they possibly make it to the Cornucopia to retrieve a weapon and fight their way out of the Careers who have been training all their life for the glory of slaying as many tributes as they can in the arena. I'm eager to start just thinking about it." Per usual Jett sounded bored, though his tone just slight of sneer, he maintained his speech with dry sarcasm.


((should we time skip to the next day to begin Training?))
 
Sterling tilted her head to the side, and listened to Magnus. She was very content in listening to him, absorbing as much information as she could. She now knew what the GameMakers were looking for in the tributes from the districts. She nodded, partly convinced, but still not sure. She listened to Baron's question, and then to Magnus' answer. Baron did have a point; it would seem as though it would make them a target for the Hunger Games. Magnus' answer to Baron cleared a few things up for Sterling though. She saw Baron's body tighten up, and she wondered why. She slightly shrugged her shoulders, and pushed herself away from the table. "Well, thank you Magnus for your words of wisdom." She said to him "I think I should hit the sack though, get some sleep for tomorrow." She told the Magnus and Baron. Sterling pushed in her chair, and waved to the guys as she walked from the table to one of the separate rooms where she removed her top, changed into a sports bra, and slid into black shorts. She sat on the edge of her bed, and rubbed her forehead with the palms of her hands. Sterling fell on her back, crawled under the covers, and rested her head in a pillow; she fell asleep almost instantly.


(Sure, I'm up for skipping to the Traning center)
 
(Sure thing!)


"Well, at least one of us has got their plans straight..." She muttered before finally deciding not to open up any more conversations as she saw that it was in vain. Seeing that their mentor barely had any input, she decided to formulate a plan of her own. She knew that her chance of winning was slim but she could at least reach the top 5 or so. She wanted to prove to everyone that she just wasn't the prissy princess they thought she were. And that gave her an idea. Acting like a naive spoiled brat during training would probably get her off the careers' radars as of training but getting a good score during the private session would tell them that she could be a threat too. She was thankful for the lack of socialization during dinner so she could make up her mind about things. She ate until she couldn't take anymore before excusing herself politely for bed. Then, she slipped into a long silk nightgown before going to bed, a bit ecstatic to put her plan into action.


The next morning, after taking a quick shower and slipping into the training clothes set for her, she tied her hair into the bounciest ponytail she could and tied it with a hot pink bow. She looked at herself in the mirror and decided she couldn't look any girlier than that. She smirked as the first part of her plan was working out well for her. She practiced a girlier stance and posture while walking in front of her mirror before going out for breakfast. Then, just to top it all off, she opened her drawer and pulled out a tube of lip gloss that was conveniently there. After that, it was off to breakfast. she sat at the table, secretly hoping for a weird look from her mentor or from Jett as to her training get up just to confirm to herself that her plan was working. "So, training today? Exciting, isn't it?" She said in a vaguely bored voice while inspecting her nails between bites.
 
Sterling woke up the morning of training, ready for what the GameMakers would throw at her. She silently grabbed the training suit that was supplied for their district, and walked to the bathroom. She undressed herself, and took a shower with a little help from an Avox turning it on. It felt like a rainstorm was pouring over her; it felt good. Sterling wrapped herself in a towel, and turned the exhaust fan off. She dressed into the training suit that was was much like jogging gear, and stood in the bathroom still. She dried her hair a little bit and brushed it back into a comfortable ponytail. The blue ends of her hair were still present, they added a little something extra to her appearance. She found a tiny tube of mascara, and applied a little to the ends of her eyelashes. After hanging the towel up Sterling walked into the dining room, where sunlight danced across the room and the table. She took a seat waiting for Magnus and Baron to join her at the table for breakfast. The Avox's were already placing the breakfast on the table; almost guaranteeing to draw the two men out into the dining room.
 
Kitinger woke up by a knock on her bedroom door. Her Escort hurrying her to get ready for the day, instructing her of the standard training suit for all Tributes. She spotted the thing laying out on her dresser, folded up crisply waiting for her. Pulling aside the thick soft blankets of her bed she stepped onto the floor, expecting the floor to be cool to the pads of her feet, but it was warm and welcoming. They have heated floors as well? Kitinger's family was well-off back in District 2, plenty of money that they invested in their home and themselves but heated floors just to provide a minor luxury as keeping your toes warm in the morning. She liked it. Kitinger made a mental note to remember that when she moved into her house in the Victor's Village.


She took a shower, washed her hair with an assortment of products from various buttons she'd gotten the hang of quite quickly. She was blown dry shortly after, leaving her hair glossy and soft. Putting her long wavy hair back into a french braid, she wondered where they got the name for the style. Kitinger pulled on her suit, a black thing with red short sleeves that formed to fit the shape of her arms. It was form fitting, but not exactly skin tight to allow air movement. She laced up a pair of light weight supportive boots she assumed would be good for running and agility. Kitinger walked out of her room and took her seat at the dinning table and started scarfing down her food, not bothering to wait for the others. Their mentor, a hard critical man by the name of Atlas Galloway, took his seat at the head of the table. He had to be in his early twenties. When Darius took his seat as well, and they'd gotten a meal into them, he started giving them advice on how to make alliances how to present themselves, how to act to others including other Careers and non-Careers. Kitinger listened intently, nodding occasionally. She'd utilize all of this, it was good.
 
Ariana got out of her bed, dazed. Training day. She had always seen it on TV but she never thought she'd be chosen as tribute and be here. It seemed like an overly unreal nightmare. She stayed there sitting on her bed as voices came from behind the door to her room that was being bombarded with pounds of said person's fist. Her mentor says her tributes have never lost. Ariana remembered every last kill her tributes did. And in the end sometimes them fighting each other. She didn't want to become a killing machine like them but it didn't seem like she had a choice. She slowly got up, ignoring the shouts of her mentor, and got dressed. She opened the door and looked into the eyes of the restrained killer as she yelled a lecture at her, also ignored. She walked to the table as instructed to do the night before for breakfast. She saw that Bradley was yet to arrive. She never saw much of the other tribute from her district. Narra said something and she herd Bradley's name in it, as Ariana escaped the personal void she had been trapped in sense her name was called at the Reaping she managed to slip a few words from her mouth, "Where is he?" Her mentor looked at her in shock, "So she can speak. If you were just listening I said he will be joining us shortly." Ariana kept her look at where her plate should be soon enough, as it had been the entire 'conversation.' She moved her lips and quietly spoke the words "I look forward to meeting him." She had been in a depressed slump all yesterday and so far all today. Training might fix that. Ariana hoped it would.


~~~


Joclynn was as ready as she would ever be. "Training day" her mentor said. "I know," Joclynn said as she opened the door and walked to the table. It happened relativity fast. She was suprised she volunteered herself to death. She was starting to regret it but it was alittle to late for that. "What are we having?" she asked. It seemed that the amazing meals the servants made were the only things she could enjoy before she had to be sent to her doom. Despite that she was more than likely going to die in the games she wasn't all that afraid. Why fear the inevitable? She waited for an answer to her question as she fluttered off into her imagination on her she could possibly survive and win the games.


~~~


Narra knocked on Ariana's door, "Ariana, its training day, you need to get out here so we can start ASAP." She was confident that this new bunch of kids can do fairly well. Every time she was Eight's mentor they won- except that one time. But that doesn't have to be mentioned. Narra could do just as well with these misfits in terms to the arena as she did with the others. Narra waited for a little longer and got no reply. She knocked on the girls door again, "Ariana, dear, we need to get you fed so we can get you prepped for the arena." Narra was trying to be nice to Ariana. The girl seemed to be in pre-games shock and it never helped to be mean. Narra waited a bit longer and was done waiting, "Ariana!" she loudly said as she slammed on the door, "Get your ass out of bed! I'm waiting for you!" The door, soon after the last comment, opened as Ariana looked up with tired eyes at Narra. Narra began a lecture on why she needed to get up earlier but she realized the servants never woke up Bradley. "Go to the table," she instructed Ariana. Narra walked to the other tributes room and knocked on his door, "Bradley, get up, its training day." Narra left it at that and walked to the breakfast table and sat down, "Bradley will be joining us shortley." All of a sudden Ariana opened her mouth and spoke the first words Narra had herd from her all day, "Where is he?" Narra looked at her in surprise. 'Bout time the girl spoke. "So she can speak. If you were just listening I said he will be joining us shortly." she said, waiting for the two people yet to come to the table.
 
Kai was already ready for the day,he thought about what he needed to work on as he walked out of his room and to the table. He noticed that girl was already there though had no intention to speak to her,though he figured he would have to sooner or later. He just couldn't wait til the fun part came of all this,he wanted to see if he was actually right and was able win. He sat at the table and leaned back in his chair as he thought to himself,he looked dazed as he stared at the table. What was he going to do when the time really came,he felt so excited now but would that change when he was standing there waiting for the count down? He shook his head,trying to move on to something else and not worry about it for now.


~~~


Jack stayed in his room for a while,not in any hurry at the moment. When he was finally ready he walked out and just wanted to head to the next step,training. But the girl from his district was nagging on in his mind,she seemed very nervous before and he wondered if she'd be okay as time went on. He hoped or she wouldn't last long in the game,and she wouldn't put up a really good fight ether. The point of this for Jack was to fight the strong and see if you can overcome them,meaning you were a step closer to being the strongest. Though it didn't only count strength but mental power too,strength is pointless if you didn't have the mind to control it. Jack's thoughts rambled on in his head as he continued to notice things lead on to others.


~~~


Pitch sat there in the chair at there table,he was going to die. He just couldn't see a way he could survive this,he didn't know anything he could do or what talents he had. He couldn't remember them,he just prayed they'd come when he needed them. Though it seemed impossible to do something you don't know,but his body did know it just his mind didn't. So maybe his body would act on it's own and he'd be okay,he just couldn't think too much about it right? He sighed,he was happy he could understand what he was thinking cause he was sure no one else would.
 
((Sorry I've kept you guys waiting. I've been in lifeguard classes. I just passed it though, so I'll be on more. I'll try to post the rest of my charries tonight and move this along.))
 
Baron sat on ground, his legs crossed. His mind was fast at work, but his hands were fast at work moving nimbly over the rope he was working with weaving it into a net. While the Careers were busy showing off for the others and sizing up their opponents, he was learning other skills that would help him while in the arena other than killing. He was fairly confident with his ability to fight. It was the other things like building shelters and catching and gathering his food that he was worried about. He'd nixed working with the Careers which would have been a steady flow of food for a guy his size. That was the easy way out, but he was sure that after some point he would be betrayed. District 4 of course was a Career district, but it wasn't like he trained his entire life for this and volunteered on his own account to compete in these futile games. However, he was careful how he conducted himself. Showing off here was important, establishing your role in the Games. His expression remained hard, carrying himself with confidence. He scratched at the tight-ish material of the short-sleeved training suit. He was grateful for it, it hugged him in such a way as to show off his muscles in what he hoped was intimidating.


The instructor was impressed by the quality and speed in which he was able to form the most complicated knots and showed him how to manipulate them to work for him to trap animals, people, and things like that for varying weights. Between switching stations, Baron took a look around seeing the other Tributes working. A lot of them looking nervous and hastily trying to learn how to use weapons and how to kill. They would be no use against any other the older Tributes and, it goes without saying, the Careers. He watched a dark-haired boy he didn't recognize even though he'd watched the parade and studied all the other Tributes avidly. The boy walked over to the weapons, picked up a strange looking sword with a disinterest, swung it around once or twice then set it down. The boy must of sensed him and looked up. They locked eyes briefly before Baron turned away quickly and went off to find Sterling.


Hale tried out the axes, the flail, the swords, the spears, the bow, even the knives. All in which he showed no particular proficiency. He failed at whatever he touched, he couldn't lift half of the weapons. How was he suppose to protect himself? Hale looked desperately at the other Tributes, the boy from District 4 who looked like he worked at the docks everyday of his life. They boy from District 11, who absolutely towered over him, the boy from District 2 and 7 who looked so serious and stoic. There was enough reason there to give him reason to accept his fate.
 
Sterling stood standing in front of the weapons, making haste to try to figure out what weapons would be the best. She grabbed a short handling, and stood behind the lines that were in front of the targets. She held the knife at eyes height, and threw it. "Thud" it hit Hawkeye. She stood looking at the weapons again, trying to figure out how she could show her speed. She looked around at the tributes, they all seemed like they were so caught up in trying to size each other up that they forgot the most important lesson on all; perserveerence. She picked up a long knife and held it by her side as she went to the open space that was by the targets. She made sure her feet were planted solidly as she pressed off of her feet and ran fast but steadily so she could keep a sharp eye on the target. She jumped when she reached the lone, and threw the knife, pushing it into the air, and then it hit the target with yet another 'thud'' but this time, a loud ' THUD'. She brushed her hands off at the sight of her handiwork. She made her way to the weapon pile and scanned it over, and smiling a little when she found the bow and arrows. She wasn't the best with them but good enough to hit a target. She drew an arrow out, and slid it into the bow. She lined up the tip of the arrow with the target, and let it go. The arrow had hit the chest area on the man target.


Sterling switched her station, she went to the ropes course, confident she could do it with ease. She grabbed the rope and it seemed her hands were already accustomed to the wear of the rope. She pulled herself up into the ropes, and weaved herself across it, he perfect body size, speed, and agility defiantly helped her through it. She looked down at the instructor who seemed to be awfully impressed with her. She crossed the course once more and climbed the post down, landing on the hard, cold ground. She noticed Baron who was walking over and smiled, she stretched a little before grabbing a dagger and throw in it into one of the targets, and then throwing a longer knife. She looked around a he competition, and was slightly intimidated. She knew she would have to start to talk to some of the careers soon, but there was enough time for her to do that, so she wasn't worried.
 
((geez I've been so inactive guys. Sorry guys >.< life gets so busy!))


The next few days were such a blur to Izzy: the stylists dressing her, the tribute ceremony, the interviews, everything just whizzed past.. At the Capitol, Izzy had no sense of time. Well, she did but on one scale, she seemed to forget where she was or how she got there. Perhaps an odd mix of confusion and denial gave her this dream-like state. Izzy came to her senses and found herself surrounded by the other Tributes. They were at various "stations". There were some she considered trying: mixed martial arts, camouflage, rope-skills, and the blades training. Izzy began to walk to the rope area. About halfway through, another tribute bumped into her. He was taller than her and seemed to be as lost as she was. They both mumbled apologies and continued to the ropes. To one side, a boy was tying knots and he seemed to be an expert at it.


Izzy decided to join him. She walked to one table, promptly sat down, and began to fiddle with the rope, not knowing what the hell she was doing. She really didn't know how to start conversations.


----


Fortis was at the Wild Consumables table. He had just learned how to identify different herbs and berries. It was an interesting course. After that station Fortis could tell the difference between a night lock berry and a harmless Skyspotted Berry. He walked towards the weapons training, lost in thought. He was trying to decide whether to show off his skills or save them for the judges later when he bumped into a girl tribute. She was shorter than him and had brown hair. He said a quick apology and continued on, making his way around other stations. She was behind him, but he remembered every single detail about her. Her hair came down like a spiraling ruffled curtain of brown hair. She had mesemerizing brown eyes and filled thin lips. It was only a moment but it seemed like a temporary forever.


Fortis looked around and saw another girl climbing down a rope. She had this definite grace and agility about her. Something he always admired but could never get himself. He waited until she completed her descent before saying, "Very impressive. I guess I'll have to look for you in the trees then during the Games?"
 
Kitinger stood several feet away from a metal and frosted glass tube, soon she'd be shot up to the surface and face the other tributes. killing wasn't a possibility, it was a fact, if given the chance she would strike, or make her own opportunity. The Blood Bath was the key place to weed out the under competition. People would die today, and none of them included her. Kitinger paced about to keep her heart rate up, shook out her hands, and breathed deeply to get the oxygen flowing in her blood. She was pumped, ready to go.





The days leading up to this moment all blended together, the Training, the alliances, the Exam, the Interview. Kitinger thought the Interview went well, she definitely set her status of an ambitious, danger-chasing kind of tribute, which was fine by her. As far as training went, it was mostly for the under competition rather than herself. She'd learned all of those skills at a young age, but I wasn't like she'd need it really if shed be with the Careers. Atlas formed her and Darius's alliances with all the other Careers. She trusted Darius about as much as she did their alliance. One could say alliances are fragile creatures born of hasty commodity, generally not very strong, and destined to be broken. In the end she'd possibly break her alliance herself with either two to three of them.





Her Stylist accompanied her to the room she now waited in. Making her break pace every now and again to touch up the light traces of makeup, or fix a lock of hair out of place from her now short hair. Cut short for her interview, her Stylist gushing how it it would make her stand out, how most girls have long hair, that she would be mysterious. Kitinger neither agreed not disagreed, she was okay with whatever her Stylist did, as long as it did not hinder her ability to fight and succeed.





She felt lighter without her hair, maybe that was a state of mind, or perhaps not, but somehow it helped her feel different, like she was apart of the Hunger Games, she'd have to cater to a different side of her personality now. Kitinger knew the games would change her in the long run, she felt now was only the beginning to a multi-month long process. The Games were likely to last at two to three months--they usually did. The very least happened to be about five weeks, it happened when Kitinger was young, she remembered being disappointed.





Her Stylist was rubbing the middle of her back and saying comforting words, reminding her of her alliances and other tips, running fast, being tough, be relentless. Interpreting her anxiousness for nervousness. How dare she. She was a Career,She'd volunteered for this after all, if anyone was ready for the Games, it would be her. But Kitinger nodded nonetheless not particularly paying attention. She went on giving her bits of advise before an alarm slash horn of some kind pierced the air, signaling it was her time to step in the tube platform. Her Stylist gave her a kiss on both cheeks and quickly, as if she'd forgotten, pulled a tiny pin from her pocket and swiftly placed it in the girl's upper ear before finally stepping aside allowing Kitinger to take her place. Exactly a minute later the tube shot upwards and Kitinger was blinded by the sunlight.





Her eyes quickly acclimated while a voice spoke over the loudspeaker, welcoming them to the Hunger Games, wishing the odd ever be in their favor, then counting down from thirty since the intro had taken roughly that much time, and tributes were giving only one minute.





She kept her eyes on the Cornucopia and allowed her peripheral to rove her surroundings. They were standing on a huge elevated rock, with six arched walkways shooting out in intervals around them. Tropical blue waves rolled underneath the walkways surrounding the platform. And surrounding the water, spires of rock surrounded the platform.** She didnt look any farther than that and risk loosing her focus, she'd be able to see all of her surroundings once the blood bath was over and she continued the chase with her allies.





Kitinger lowered into a stance, ready to run the moment the clock hit zero.





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