The 92nd Annual Hunger Games [M]

[Zulera301]

that's right. sequel time, baby.
[also viewable on fanfiction.net, under the exact same name/title.]
[Now that the story is complete, feel free to post feedback or whatnot, anyone who is interested.]


AUTHOR'S NOTE: Welcome one, welcome all to the 92nd Annual Hunger Games. As a sequel to my fanfic "The 91st Annual Hunger Games", this follows the same premise of being an alternate universe where the 2nd rebellion never happened yet. However, Katniss and co. still exist and have done a few things of their own, as the story will reveal. This fic obviously contains a spoiler about the previous one (AKA who the victor of the previous games was), but other than you, you don't need to read that one to understand what is going on in this one. This story will likely update every other day or such.

PART I: THE TRIBUTES

CHAPTER 1: The Four Victors

The victor village in District 12 was a fairly quiet place, given that it only had four inhabitants, since the first victor from District 12 had disappeared years ago. No one knew the fate of the mysterious Lynn Dragmire, other than that shortly after the 2nd Quarter Quell, she had vanished without a trace, but there was nowhere to go in District 12 except across the fence, and since it had been years and she had been an older woman, chances were she was dead.

Up until recently, District 12's track record in the Hunger Games was quite pitiful at best, but if there was one thing that they had shown surprising proficiency at, it was winning those Quarter Quells—the Hunger Games that occurred every 25 years that always had a special rule change.

The 1st Quarter Quell's victor had been the late Laurel Fox, who even the Capitol considered dead even if the cause of her death was unknown. The 2nd Quarter Quell had produced District 12's 2nd victor, Haymitch Abernathy. It was another 25 years before District 12 would win the 'games again, with the 3rd Quarter Quell—the 75th Hunger Games, producing Katniss Everdeen as a victor among tributes aged between 17 and 25.

It was shortly after this that the district began gaining momentum in its victor production. The 4th victor, a young man named Vigo Zakatau, won the 84th Hunger Games only 9 years later. He had helped a tribute become a victor only 7 years later, with tiny little Aveline Togisala as Panem's most recent Hunger Games Victor.

The four of them were particularly close. It was definitely a victor thing.

Regretfully, like many victors before her, even the now 16-year-old Aveline had turned to drinking, although it was made better by the fact that it was often accompanied by cards and gambling. In this case, it was to help ease Ava into the notion that she would be travelling with two new tributes to the Capitol this year to serve as District 12's mentor for the 92nd Annual Hunger Games. The reaping was not for another few hours, however, and thus the minds of the victors were all elsewhere.

"Read 'em and weep." Haymitch smirked, slapping his cards on the table. Ava groaned, Vigo shook his head, and Katniss slammed a knife into the table, swearing loudly. It was almost amusingly ironic that all four of these individuals had a knife on their person at almost any given time, but all in all it was just another way of coping with what had happened to each of them in the past.
Vigo shuffled the cards again and they were soon deep into another game. He was a betting man, as the Capitol Escort Junichi Thatch knew, even if he did not know when to fold. Luckily, only Katniss and Aveline had anyone else they were supporting (their mothers, in both cases)

"Vigo," Ava looked up at the man as she scooped up a pile of coins that were her winnings, "you do know that you could come with me if you wanted to try and earn your money back from Jun, right?"

Vigo shook his head. "I'd just lose again and Katniss here would make fun of me."
"Hey," the older woman spoke up, "you bring that upon yourself."

"Bah, I'm not as awful at this as you make me out to be. Let's just keep playing. We've got time before the reapings actually start."

And thus they continued. Sooner or later, however, it was time for them to converge on the square, since viewing (or attendance, in the case of those between the ages of 12 and 18) of the reapings was strictly mandatory for everyone in every district.

"Welp," Vigo quipped, setting down his cards, "I guess it's time."

"May the odds make it true that when you're mortally wounded in an excruciatingly painful way, your body goes into shock and you don't feel anything when you die." Ava led the chant, where the four of them raised their flasks and took a shot. The statement was fairly black, but it was something of a mantra among the victors of most districts.

Vigo followed Ava to the square, with Katniss in tow. Not wanting to be left behind, Haymitch staggered to his feet and followed, taking another shot from his hip flask in the meantime. They parted ways when Ava stepped up to the stage, where she would be serving as this year's mentor for District 12, and the others shuffled into the ineligible crowds to watch the show, and perhaps give a respectful salute to the young man and woman who were probably going to die. Ava sat down, her feet just barely touching the floor—she was a tiny little thing, even at 16 years of age.

Shortly after the usual propaganda film concluded, a pale woman with dark, spiky blue hair and vibrant red eyes strode onto the stage, her frilly knee-length skirts bouncing with each step. She actually brought a small smile to Vigo and Ava's faces, for they knew that this woman was much different than most of the others from the Capitol. This was Junichi Thatch; escort for the District 12 tributes. She dressed vividly, although never too garishly, and as long as she had not changed in the 6 months since Ava had last met her, she was pretty sure this woman was still rather humble and down-to-earth—a surprisingly relatable woman.

"Welcome, welcome, welcome!" she beamed, going into a miniature speech that Ava and Vigo were sure was mandatory for her to give, before she cut right to the point. "And now it is time to choose our tributes for the 92nd Annual Hunger Games… and as is the custom—ladies first,"

She stepped over to one of the large glass spheres that held girl's names, running her hand through it a bit to mix it up—otherwise the kids whose names were at the bottom would remain there, which meant the first ones to register that year would have an edge against their later-registering brethren. She did this for a few seconds, perhaps also to build suspense in the Capitol, although a moment later she produced a slip of paper between her fingers. Gently unfolding it, she read aloud:

"Monica Savage!"

As usual, there was a hushed silence as a dark-skinned, black-haired girl stepped out from the ranks of young ladies and stepped towards the stage, her hands in her pockets. For a moment, her dark brown eyes met Ava's, where the smaller girl gave her a wordless expression of sympathy.

"And now for the boys…" Junichi stepped over to the bowl with the boys' names, and dipped her hand into it. She repeated the same motions as she had for the girls before fishing out a name from the edge of the bowl. She opened it up and read it aloud.

"Rafael West!"

A tan-skinned boy with messy brown hair stepped up to the stage, where he joined Monica, both of them remaining wordless. There was a moment of silence before Junichi continued, giving a huge smile towards the crowds which Ava was fully convinced was simply procedural rather than the woman's actual emotions on the subject.

"Ladies and Gentlemen..." Junichi cleared her throat for a moment, "your tributes from District 12 for the 92nd Annual Hunger Games: Monica Savage and Rafael West!"

Everyone, instead of clapping, raised three fingers to their lips before raising them. Even Junichi responded with this gesture. It was still not so much a symbol of any type of rebellion as much as a gesture of respect for those that would not likely return. It didn't take a genius to realize that District 12 was not exactly known for its vast pool of victors, though their performance ever since the 3rd Quarter Quell had showed a very significant rising trend given that their 4th and 5th victors took much less than half the time to emerge than the 2nd and 3rd victors had.

Ava did not join her tributes proper yet, as this was the time they got to say their goodbyes. Instead, she was escorted to the train, bidding Katniss and Haymitch a fond farewell for a few weeks while she was there. Vigo, while he would not be mentoring, had elected to tag along. The Capitol did like their victors, after all, and Vigo was still fairly popular among them.

Ava did manage to meet her mother Naisha one more time before departing. It was much different from the departure last year, where her and her brother had been chosen as tributes for the 91st Annual Hunger Games. Needless to say, their mother was grieved in knowing that she would inevitably lose one child, and possibly lose both of them. Aveline managed to give her the lesser of the two evils, and return home a victor. However, the death of Ava's older brother Wesley had not been something the two of them had easily gotten over, and they both missed the boy—Ava missed her brother and Naisha missed her son. This time was different though.

"I'm coming back for sure this time," Ava promised her mother, "I may not return with a victor in tow… but I promise you now… I'm coming back alive and in one piece."
Naisha did not respond with any actual words, but simply hugged her little daughter, who was still hardly an inch taller than 4'9" and 90 pounds, even at the strapping age of 16.

As Ava boarded the train, it reminded her of the same incident a year ago when she had boarded it with her brother, where it was the last time the poor boy got to see his home. On the other hand, Ava was safe just as she had promised—this marked her first year as a Hunger Games mentor.

[Zulera301]

AUTHOR'S NOTES: And here is where we make the transition from District 12 over to District 2, which is where Marcus and Amy hail from. We get to see a bit of them and the strange way they get along,, as well as peek a little bit into the mind of the career tributes, and what it's like for the victors of the most successful district in Panem. It's not all sunshine and daisies, if Clove is anything to go by--since she appears in this chapter.

CHAPTER 2: Unlike Minds

One of the first things that Ava noticed about her first set of tributes was that they were enthusiastic about it, or at least were collected enough not to be nervous. Ava had mixed feelings about this because she knew the horrors of the games and did not want one of her tributes to wind up even more shattered than she had. No child that ever entered the 'games emerged from the arena alive the way they ever were before the games. Ava learned this truth last year, and still she had nightmares or other negative reactions from remembering the 91st Annual Hunger Games.

"So…" Monica spoke up, "let's see some recaps of the reaping—or at least the career districts. We gotta find out what we're up against so we can destroy them."

Ava did not seem terribly comfortable with the girl's choice of words, but with a nod, she flipped on the recaps of the recent reapings, starting with District 1. The 'reapings' in District 1 and 2 were much different than the ones for the remaining districts. Since there were so many kids who wanted to volunteer, they had organized these annual events to basically be a race/fight to the stage. Killing was not strictly prohibited, but few ever wasted time trying to kill their fellows, because that would be wasting precious time they could be using to brawl their way to the stage.

This year's 'winners' from District 1 were a couple of 17-year-olds named Luster Marcelo and Charm DeMetz. The District 12 pair shook their heads.

"So District 1 not only has weird names," Rafael quipped, "but they're also overly enthusiastic to die?"
"Given their record," Aveline reminded the boy, "they're doing something right. 13 victors in 91 years is not too shabby of a record."
"Well," Monica noted aloud, "it explains why there are mostly only 17 and 18-year-old tributes from District 1 and District 2. How nice would it be to not have to even go?"
"Except I've been there," Ava reminded them, "it's a social pressure kind of thing. Either you train to volunteer, or live as an outcast that gets scorned for life…"
"Speaking of which," Rafael spoke up again, worried much less about that notion, and more about being able to destroy career tributes, "let's see District 2."
They were a bit more surprising—at least in one case. The boy, a Marcus Romero, was a massive kid standing about 6'6" and probably 200 pounds at least; definitely 18. The girl, however, was almost a hilarious contrast that Ava even found rather amusing. This Amy Zavala was a tiny little 14-year-old that couldn't have been more than about 4'10" and probably only about 95 pounds. Ava cracked a smirk at this contrast, for it reminded her of her own games.

"What are you smiling at," Monica tilted her head as she saw Ava's odd smile. "District 2 sent a midget this year. What's so funny about that?"
"District 2 is not as bad as everyone thinks," Ava expressed, "but I digress. I thought it was funny, because for one thing, I'm 4'9" and an oddly symbolic 91 pounds. Secondly, last year, the girl from District 2 was this 6'5", 182-pound behemoth that also became my best friend. So… as much as I'm obviously going to support my own district here, I will not take kindly to smacktalking a place you've never fully seen."
"There's no need to get defensive over it, kiddo," Monica began before Ava seized her arm.

"And there will be none of this dismissive 'kiddo' shit either," she warned, "I'm not trying to say that you should respect and revere me just because I'm some kid who got too big for her britches or anything…"
She didn't get to finish before Junichi stepped in. those that knew her were well-aware that she was not just the average Capitol airhead. In fact, it was rumored that she used the tribute training center between Hunger Games, although only Vigo Zakatau or Ava Togisala would know, and both of them had sworn not to tell.

"Listen to your mentor, children," the escort warned, "don't start fighting her just because she's younger than you. This child knows what the games entail, much more than you or I could begin to comprehend. We're not in this thing to turn you into our enemies… she's genuinely trying to help you."

"Sorry," both of the tributes apologized, lowering their heads.

"We're all in this together," Junichi reassured them, "Even I am." With this, Junichi disappeared again.

"you probably understand then…" Rafael muttered, "being a tribute in the games."
"I more than understand," Ava humbly agreed, "I had to ride this train with my brother as my district partner… obviously he's gone now if I'm here in front of you."
That seemed to have been enough for Monica and Rafael to quiet down and listen, and thus Ava resumed the reaping footage.

There had been quite a stir that year in District 2 because of that little 14-year-old, however. It was difficult to cheat in a 'contest' where it was simply a race to the stage to meet Delun Frost, the cheerful, enthusiastic escort for District 2.

Even in a district where everyone volunteered, the ladies still went first, and so when tiny little Amy Zavala finally reached the stage, it brought surprise to even Delun, the man's bouncy green curls flying as he jumped on his toes with excitement.

The boy was much less surprising, given how enormous he was, but he was still greeted with equal enthusiasm. After Delun announced their names though, Marcus surprised them by grabbing Amy and lifting the tiny girl over his head. Laughter also ensued.

"Hey! Put me down you moron!" Amy barked, although the amused laughter of her fellows did little to crush her spirits. She was still on an adrenaline rush from being chosen as tribute for the 'games anyways. She had a point to prove, and this was the first step.

Soon, Delun, Amy, and Marcus were all on the train flying towards the Capitol. Marcus and Delun had struck up a pleasant conversation about Capitol lifestyle or something similar, while Amy remained stoic and simply glared forward, drumming her fingers on the table. Incidentally, Delun spoke up first.

"There's no reason to be glum!" he smiled, spreading his arms, "you were chosen because you were District 2's finest. You should be proud!"
"I am proud," Amy shrugged calmly, "I'm also just thinking about something."

"What are you thinking about?" Marcus tilted his head, "wish you had waited 4 years before volunteering like that or something?"
"Ha, don't kid yourself," Amy shook her head, "I volunteered to prove a point."
"What point was that," Marcus ruffled Amy's hair, "that two really tiny girls could win twice in a row?"

"If I decide to do that," Amy quipped, "I'll make sure you're my partner-in-crime. If you want an alliance though, we need to lay down some ground rules."

"No promises," Marcus chuckled, "But I'll listen."
"No manhandling me." Amy demanded, "I'm a girl, not a ragdoll."

"I won't promise anything, but I'll keep that in mind." Marcus shook his head, smirking. "Hey, let's go find Clove and see if she'll tell us a few things."

"It makes me wonder why she still volunteers," Amy mused aloud, "There have been two victors since her… I wonder what's been holding them back…"
"Maybe Clove wanted to volunteer to mentor the best tributes," Marcus suggested.

"Fine," Amy laughed, "I'll drink to that." While Amy's mindset was different from Marcus's, she was willing to put a few of her own differences aside so that they could get along. One of the secrets to District 2's success, after all, was their ability to ally with each other to dominate the arenas. Even when they did not win (such as last year), they usually still did very well and were some of the last tributes standing. This seemed to be enough of an ego-stroking for them to continue this tradition.

Either way, they went to go find Clove, and found her one car over, shooting something up her arm.

"What's that," Amy instantly asked, causing the older woman to look up.

"Something of mine," Clove retorted, "Victor drug. That's all you need to know."
Amy was about to ask if there was a reason for it, but she figured that of course there would be.

"Here," she handed them a couple of needles, "Take these."
"I'll pass, thank you." Amy shook her head, while Marcus looked at the syringes in his hands.

"They're not for you," she pointed out, "they're if you see me start losing it. I don't need to go into details, but I'll say this much—you will know when you need to use them."
"So basically our own mentor's too unstable to even control herself anymore?" Amy quipped,

"Watch it," Clove warned, "One does not talk shit about Clove Kazera and get away with it. If you're trying to provoke me, I'll ensure that you regret it."

"And if you're trying to do the same to us," Marcus replied, "you're in for a treat."

Clove's eyes narrowed before she shook her head. "Good to see I've got tributes with gall." She nodded, an approving sneer encroaching her face, "I like a pair of tributes who'll stand up for themselves… you two will do just fine…"

[Zulera301]

AUTHOR'S NOTE: In this chapter we do get a little shout-out to Chel Colorado from the last story, although I feel like I explain well enough who she was that those who have not read the last one should still understand who she was. Otherwise... more Clove, and more about what Marcus and Amy hope to get from their volunteering for the games. Also... a sneak preview of a few of the other tributes. Enjoy!

CHAPTER 3: A Message From Amy

"So that's it?" Amy raised an eyebrow after a moment of silence, "is there nothing else you have to say to us now or something?"

"Most of the stuff you'll need to know you already learned in the academies," Clove retorted, "if you want me to tell you what I personally think of you two, you should be like Ava and Chel."
"Hey, as cool as she was," Marcus objected, "I don't want to be Chel if that means I die."

"Not that part of Chel," Clove shook her head, "the Chel Colorado that went down in history. Be strong; be good at what you do. More than that though… become a legend. Become a name that will live on through history, whether you live or die. Look at little Aveline from last year. The kid scored a 5, and she was tinier than you were, Amy. To top it off, she was from the shittiest place in Panem, and yet she emerged from the games as the victor."
"Chel definitely helped her," Marcus insisted. Clove simply nodded, to Marcus' surprise. He had kind of expected an argument from the mentor woman.

"And Aveline helped Chel," she took a shot from a flask on the table, "even if you turn on your allies, that's no reason not to stay by their side in the meantime. Even I know that and I'm an ass."

"How many allies did you have?" Amy looked up curiously.

"I had three: the District 1 pair and my partner Cato." Clove clarified, "we dominated the field, destroying everyone in our path until it was just me and Cato. So, we turned on each other and obviously I won. It was nothing personal; just business."

Marcus and Amy glanced at each other and did not say anything. Clove noticed and she simply smirked again, taking another drink.

"but you two shouldn't worry about having to kill each other till 22 other kids are dead and gone," she continued, "not only because I think you two have Chaco and Chel's fighting spirit from last year, but also because it's about damn time District 2 had another victor."

"Getting sick of it already?" Marcus quipped, "you still haven't even been here as long as some of those old District 12 mentors."

"That's a trend that's swiftly dying out," Amy pointed out, "There were 9 years between Katniss Everdeen and Vigo Zakatau, and then only 7 between Vigo Zakatau and Aveline Togisala."

"Well look who's the smart one," Marcus ruffled Amy's hair again. Clearly he was a roughhouser, and Clove seemed to be making this obvious observation all the same.

"Well, those kinds of kids can win, you know," Clove warned, "Look at me. I'm certainly no Chel Colorado. For one, she was a much kinder person than I am, and secondly, she was way taller. Also, she's got a District Hero statue of her in front of the justice building for a reason."

"So what was so great about Chel Colorado if she didn't even win?" Amy tilted her head curiously. "Not to be the little bitch here… but aren't the best tributes the ones that survive?"

"Most of 'em are," Clove nodded, "but every now and again you get a couple that stand out. For example, literally 30 years before my games there was this tiny little thing from District 12 that turned out to be one of the most ruthless killers in Hunger Games history. People remember Kyla Togisala not because of Ava the victor, but because the girl made herself stand out. Sometimes it's not about winning the games. Sometimes it's about sending a message."

"What kind of message did Chel send?" Amy asked, sounding more interested suddenly. Clove smirked, knowing she had hooked her female tribute this year.

"Chel sent a message that you can do things your own way and still become popular." Clove explained, "Even with her free-spirited attitude, the Capitol still loved her. Are you suddenly interested?"
"Aye," Amy nodded, "I am. I'm only 14, anyways. I didn't volunteer for fame and glory—I volunteered to send Panem a message."

"Well, you're no Ikki Ortolani," Clove retorted. "She was only 12 when she won."
"I know," Amy replied, "I do not intend to be Ikki Ortolani. I intend to be Amy Zavala."
"And what of you, Marcus," Clove asked the massive boy, "What do you want from all this?"

"I'm not going to lie; I'm in it for the fame and the glory," the larger boy admitted, "I regret nothing."

"There's nothing to regret," Clove agreed, "There's no right or wrong answer here. You volunteer for whatever reason you damn well want to… Anyways, make yourselves at home as well as you can. There's no point in letting the Capitol's benevolence go to waste. I'm gonna get me another drink, so I'll be back." Clove got up and left the room, leaving the two very differently-sized tributes alone. Amy could hear Delun in a nearby compartment, and wondered what that man was up to. For the moment; she simply glanced up at Marcus.

"So would it hurt your pride to ally with a kid 4 years your junior and half your size?" she raised an eyebrow, "Or are we keeping this District 2 thing going?"
"I'm teaming up with whoever's strong," Marcus admitted, "if we get a District 3 pair like the ones last year, I'd even recruit them."

"So in fine, you're skirting my question," Amy punched his arm playfully.

"And here I thought you were going to cite Ava on me," Marcus laughed, "kid, if you're strong enough to kick every other girl's ass on the way to the stage, chances are you've got what it takes to join me."

"Wonderful," Amy smirked, "I'd hate to have to kill my own district partner in the opening minutes, eh?"
"Whoa now, kiddo," Marcus laughed, "let's save the fighting for the training room. We've got a whole week of that before the 'games, you know."

"What?" Amy quipped, "You mean I can't just turn and kill you in the opening minutes?"
"The funny thing is, is I can't tell if you're serious or not!" Marcus laughed.

"Nah… Clove's right." Amy concurred, "it's about damn time that District 2 had another victor, and so if I can't win it, you better win it."
Same goes for you, kiddo," Marcus grinned. "Be a tiny little badass like Aveline was—only better."
"Don't worry," Amy smirked, "I plan to be. Speaking of which—let's watch the reaping footage again. I want to size up our competition."
footage of anything Hunger Games was always readily available to anyone in the districts or the Capitol, and the trains were no exceptions. They replayed the footage of this year's reapings, watching themselves fight their way to the front. The kids from Districts 3 and 4 looked like promising potential career material, and of course there was Luster and Charm from District 1 that would almost certainly be joining the career team this year. District 5 produced another elusive-looking and mysterious pair, but that was the general vibe of Panem's most mysterious district anyways. Districts 6, 7, and 8 all produced the typical lot—groups of urban kids with a fairly sullen expressions and nimble builds, for Districts 6 and 8, and slightly stockier kids from District 7.

District 11 produced another pair of rough-looking physically-oriented tributes, with both the boy and the girl appearing to show all the signs of many long days and hours of hard work. Dante Daniels and Cherry Valdez both looked like fighters, which was another recurring trend from District 11 lately. They had a pretty impressive 8 victors thus far, which put them tied with some of the top victor-producing districts, only truly beaten out by Districts 1 and 2.

Aveline Togisala's first batch of tributes looked promising too, and fairly confident. Amy was not one to overlook this fact.

"They're growing more confident," she warned, "we can't take District 12 so lightly anymore. First Katniss, then Vigo, and then Aveline…"

"I thought this was the girl who was going to win and send a message," Marcus joked.

"I will," Amy insisted, "not against District 12; not against District 11, or District 2, or any particular place. This is simply a message to all of Panem—that there is more to the Hunger Games than meets the eye. There's more than just the death; and more than just the glory."

"I'm listening," Marcus was curious about this quaint little girl. For one, it was rare that anyone under 16 or 17 ever made it to the stage in District 2, and for another, he was curious about what kind of message she wanted to send to Panem.

"Look at the last few victors," she lowered her voice, "From our district I mean. Kaede and Katsuo, I think their names were. They're absolute wrecks. Heck, even Clove's not all there, but she's the best we've got other than a couple of older mentors that have done their time."
"So what are you getting at," Marcus listened with further curiosity.

"I want to produce a victor who doesn't suffer like that," Amy insisted, "which means that not only do I intend to win… but I intend to produce another victor the very next year."

[Zulera301]

AUTHOR'S NOTE: While I imagine that District 2 is competitive, I also imagine that many of them are also good friends. Marcus and Amy are, at least, despite varying so greatly in size and age. I think his pride as an 18-year-old is not hurt by being accompanied by a 14-year-old because of how the "reapings" in District 2 take place. Amy did manage to beat the other girls, so that means she's got some considerable skill as well. Marcus' skill is practically written all over his 6'6" 200-lb frame.

CHAPTER 4: Day and Night

Marcus seemed intrigued by Amy's boldness. He was unfazed by her assertion that she was going to win, for nearly all careers were like that, even if it meant killing the boy or girl that was right beside them at one point of the games or another.

"You have a bold ambition," Marcus chuckled, "winning back-to-back has only ever happened twice in District 2, and once in District 1. "Do you think you've got what it takes?"

"If I didn't think I had what it takes, I would have let some other girl beat me to the stage," Amy retorted. Tell me, Marcus. Do you remember Aveline Togisala's pre-games interview?"

"Not really, no." Marcus shrugged. This meant Amy would have to explain it, but on the other hand, she at least approved of the massive boy's honesty.

"The kid told all of Panem that she was going to be the one to sit on the victor's throne. Well, look at the history. 2 weeks later, there she was, crowned by Snow himself."

"I think most kids promise or claim that they'll win." Marcus reminded her, "but I suppose you're here to ensure your promise is different?"
"Oh, I won't promise to win," Amy indicated, "I just plan on sending a message. Clove was right about Chel too, y'know. If I don't win and then produce a victor the year after, I'll find something else."
There was a moment of pause and silence, and Marcus smirked at his tiny little district partner. "You're quite an interesting little kid," he smirked, "I like you."
"Glad to be of service," Amy chortled, "I think you and I will get along despite our differences, be it in physical size or other things. Welcome to the 92nd Annual Hunger Games—and may the odds make it true that when you're mortally wounded in an excruciatingly painful way, your body goes into shock so that you don't feel anything when you die."

Marcus chuckled, knowing that this was a phrase that dated back about 50 years. It had been popularized by the victor of the 44th Annual Hunger Games, a District 11 woman named Sagittaria. The following year, it quickly spread through District 11, and made its way into the cultures of District 6, District 12, and oddly enough, District 2. It did not take long for the slogan to swiftly infiltrate the other districts afterwards. It was an extremely popular meme among the victors of the various districts, and thus it had solidified itself within Hunger Games culture.

"So here's a question for you," Marcus spoke up a moment after the laughing had subsided, "did you bring a tribute token?"

"I brought the severed finger of the girl I fought on the way to the stage." Amy replied with a completely straight face. Marcus tilted his head, trying to remember anything like that. He had the epiphany that Amy was lying a moment later and laughed.

"Fine, I'll answer first if that's what you're getting at," he quipped, "it ain't much, but I'm pretty proud of it." He reached into his pocket and pulled a small stone carving depicting the Capitol Seal out and set it on the table. Amy actually looked at it with interest.

"It's nice," she complimented, "did you do it?"
"Yup," Marcus nodded, "I was working to be a proper stonemason before this."
"Well, you were definitely on the right track," she nodded approvingly, "Me, my token is just these earrings," she used both her hands to point to a pair of large golden hoops in her ears."

"They might confiscate those," Marcus joked, "you could use them as weapons."

Amy laughed, and without even opening her mouth, she unfastened her left earring and poked Marcus' hand with it. "A few thousand more stabs like that and you'd be dead, boy…" she warned, the facetiousness in her voice overly apparent, "Aye, I don't think they'll get after me for it."
She fastened her earring again and Marcus pocketed his rock. "I just need to make sure not to drop this like that kid with the wooden ball did. I felt bad for the poor sods next to her—they were covered with whatever was left of her."

Amy shook her head, chuckling. "Do you pull this many jokes everywhere you go?"

"Chel Colorado had the right idea in more ways than one," Marcus insisted, "just as you said. I, for one, admired her sense of humor."
"So you're just copying Chel then?"
"Pfft, as if; I make jokes because I can, and no one's going to stop me. Besides… the Hunger Games could always use a few more laughs."
Incidentally, Amy was not skeptical about Marcus' positive attitude at all. She was positive that the boy was going to score very high in training—maybe even perfectly. He very well could win this thing, and so Amy would have to remember that he was a threat.

After a couple more moments Marcus pulled out some cards, offering a game to Amy, who accepted. The two of them played for several minutes before Delun showed up again.

"We're only a couple hours from the Capitol!" he beamed, "you two should clean up and get ready!"
It was never a very trying task for Capitol favorites like '1 and '2 to wash up (in contrast to the outer districts such as '11 and '12). In these cases, it was more of them just straightening up properly after the brawling they had done to fight their way to the stage.

Marcus and Amy parted ways down one of the hallways, into private rooms where they cleaned up. Amy was a bit surprised at the color of the liquid that shot out from the Capitol showers, but since the purple substance was not causing any harm to her skin, Amy concluded that it was just some special chemical or something and stopped worrying about it.

She and Marcus emerged smelling sweeter and looking fresher, and thus would appeal more to the Capitol when they first made their way from the train station to the Tribute Tower. It was this meeting, rather than the Chariot Parade, which marked the first impression tributes gave to the Capitol. On the other hand, District 2 was almost always fairly popular with the Capitol crowds, and so both Marcus and Amy figured they would be no exception.

They ate a quick lunch as the mountains surrounding the Capitol came into view. Within a few weeks, 23 of the children en route to this place would never see their homes again. Even for tributes from mountainous landscapes with large, Capitol-centric buildings in many places, there was nothing even in District 2 that could compare to the might and glory that was the shimmering Capitol city that they were swiftly approaching. Surely there were at least a dozen boys and girls on similar trains that were nervous about this situation, knowing that they were probably heading to their deaths. Marcus was not one of these, however, and neither was Amy. In fact, the former was excited at the sight, and the latter was mildly amused.

"Aaaaaand here we go!" Delun announced as their train zipped through a tunnel right into the side of the mountain. There were several moments of suspenseful silence as the windows were suddenly cloaked with darkness, but a minute or two later, the train reemerged in the afternoon light of the Capitol, where the true grandiosity of the place finally struck the two tributes.

"Okay so I lied," Amy confessed, "this is actually pretty damn cool to see."

"Then it's a good thing we're tributes, or there'd be money switching hands right now," Marcus joked, "are you as ready for this as I am?"
"I'm not sure anyone could match your enthusiasm, Marcus," Amy retorted.

"I'm hurt," Marcus fake-whimpered, "your words are almost as cutting as the knives you played with back home, kid."

"I'll be doing more than throwing cutting words, if that's what you mean," Amy smirked, "you've got the advantage there though—you know what I'm good at."
"It's not that hard, really," Marcus reminded her, "there are two types of girls that come from our district…"
"Oh here we go again," Amy prepared for something mildly sexist, but couldn't stop the smile from growing on her face, knowing that it was not likely to be genuine disdain that the massive boy next to her was about to utter.

"No, no, this isn't bad, I swear," Marcus laughed, "Just that girls from District 2 are usually either very large and burly like us guys; or they are really tiny and lightning-swift, like you or Clove. The big ones usually go for the axes, swords, and maces, and the small ones almost always use knives."
"How do you know that?" Amy tilted her head.

"I've been in the academies for nearly a decade," Marcus reminded her, "I watch other kids just like anyone. In some cases, it helps me size up the competition; and in others it helps just to know what our district is fixing to produce over the next couple years."

"Well, I don't need to impress you," Amy quipped, "though I don't mind being on your good side for the early career alliance, aye?"

"True enough," Marcus agreed, "it's not me you've got to impress anyways—it's those people."
He pointed out to large throngs of Capitol citizens who were already cheering and anxiously awaiting the debut of the tributes for the 92nd Annual Hunger Games.

[Zulera301]

AUTHOR'S NOTE: And now our heroes have finally reached the Capitol, for better or for worse. I decided to put an interesting spin on the District 2 Stylist pair, and so they're a step or two away from the usual batch of Capitol citizens that get these jobs. Luckily for Marcus and Amy, they've got their escort Delun to help them sort these kinds of things out. Happy reading!

CHAPTER 5: The Stylists

Marcus and Amy were greeted by throngs of cheering people who were excited to see their favorite tributes show their faces. They shouted and waved, and despite the vastly contrasting sizes of the District 2 pair, both of them were warmly received by the Capitol, and both of them grinned and waved as they made their way to the Tribute Tower, where 23 of the 24 children staying here would spend the final days of their life before being thrown into a death arena never to return.

Soon they were escorted to the 2nd floor of the Tribute Tower, which would be their new home for the next week before they were thrown into the arena. The victor would see it again for another couple of nights after the games, but other than that, 23 of them would see this place as their final home before they went to a large arena which would become their grave.

It was a thought that was not lost on tiny little Amy as they moved up the elevator and reached a lavish apartment that was fancier than even the finest that District 2 had to offer. Delun seemed happy to be back, and he turned to his tributes with a grin on his face.

"Welcome to the Capitol! Make yourselves at home and do feel free to enjoy anything you can find here!" He was obviously referring to anything on this floor, but Marcus and Amy did not seem like the type that would try to exploit a loophole to get out of these games—especially not after they had volunteered for them themselves.

"But don't go too far!" he added before disappearing down a hallway, "your stylists are just DYING to meet you, and they'll be up shortly!"

Both of them had an idea of what to expect this time around though. They might not have been here before, but they taught more in the academies than just combat and strength. Some of the tributes were also taught about appealing to the Capitol, both to further strengthen the relationship between Districts 1 & 2 and the Capitol, but also on how to be an appealing tribute.

They knew that after the stylists showed up, that they'd be taken and given a brief clean-up (the richer districts did not take very long to do this) before they would get styled for tonight's chariot parade, where they would make their initial impression on the rest of Panem (though mostly just the Capitol). Tributes who did well here usually attracted the eyes of sponsors earlier, although there were other opportunities to be appealing.

But that was hardly what either of them were thinking about at the moment. Instead, Marcus scooped up Amy, much to the tinier girl's chagrin, and flopped back into the sofa keeping his partner locked in his grip. She struggled, kicking at him and shouting somewhat playful profanities at him, but her pride did feel and sustain a few injuries here.

"Put me down, you moron." She complained.

"You know," he quipped, "If we stick together, there's some tactical benefits I can see from someone your size."
"Marcus, you are NOT using me as a projectile!" Amy snapped, practically reading the boy's mind, "what is it with you and handling me like this?"
"You're tiny," he teased her, "I would have expected a much larger partner. I couldn't have done it someone like Chel."
"You glorious ass," Amy rolled her eyes, sighing in defeat. "It's a good thing I like you, otherwise District 2's boy would take 24th place before training had even begun."

"I was actually just about to let you go," Marcus taunted, "now I'm not so sure."

Amy struggled to try and free herself from the massive boy's grip, also assessing that her tiny size could be a potential weakness this way. The two of them began to wrestle a bit, but the massive boy had size over the tiny girl and so he got her in a locked grip pretty easily.

"Marcus, cut it out!" she barked, "what if our stylists see us like th—"

No sooner had she said this when Delun came back into the room, accompanied by a pair of white-haired individuals. They were dressed differently, but in similar shades of silver and blue. Eye-masks that might be seen at a masquerade party graced their faces, and large feathers protruded from either side of them. their outfits had a few glittery embellishments, and the woman's right leg from hip to ankle showed through a long slit in her skirts.

"Well, well… someone's eager!" Delun chuckled, "on your feet, Marcus; Amy! You've got a big evening ahead of you tonight!"

Marcus and Amy detangled themselves and got to their feet without a problem. Delun gave them the names of the stylists, introducing the man as Zakuya and the woman as Misaha.

"They're on the quiet side, but they are the best of the best. Everyone wants to be a stylist for District 2!" he let them know. Of course, it was actually more of a tie between '1 and '2, but he did not need to tell them that.

"Sounds good to me," Amy shrugged, "Let's go."

She was surprised though, to find that when Delun mentioned that Zakuya and Misaha were on the quiet side, that they did not speak at all. After Amy had stripped down and gotten into the chemical-filled shower before her brief "clean-up" that she needed to undergo before getting dressed, Misaha had still not spoken a word to her. One studio over with Marcus, Zakuya had treated him the same way. The stylists did not seem to be rude with this, for they had friendly smiles on their faces; they simply did not speak. Amy actually asked them about it once they had finished a quick operation to remove the remnants of her body hair and smoothen her skin.

"Can you understand me?" she tilted her head. Misaha nodded with a smile.

"Is your tongue cut out or something then?" The stylist opened her mouth, revealing a dazzling set of white teeth and a perfectly intact tongue.

"So you just don't like speaking then," the tiny naked girl asked as she was led into the dressing room proper (wrapped in a towel of course), where she would get styled properly for the evening's parade. Unsurprisingly, Misaha giggled and nodded.

"Whatever," she shrugged, "Delun said you two knew what you were doing, so I'll trust him and thus trust you." It wasn't like she technically had a choice, but even if the stylists sent her and Marcus out naked, she would be able to appeal to the Capitol both during the interviews with Caesar at the end of this week, and in the arena when she was killing other tributes.

However, she was not dressed naked, and was instead clad in what appeared to be dark brick-red clothing that added effects to make it almost seem like armor. A pointed tiara reminding Amy almost of a sun-type pattern was placed on her head, and blood-red eyeshadow was applied to her eyelids, and some red stripes were painted on her cheeks.

"What am I supposed to b—" Amy began, but remembered that the stylists did not want to talk for some reason. The Capitol didn't make sense to Amy sometimes, which surprised her given that she was from their most loyal district. Still, the dress was rather cool-looking. The sleeves went to her wrists, but it was cut low in the back, where a large pair of red, feathered wings was added. Amy definitely thought this costume was extravagant. Her legs were exposed in the front, but there was a skirt covering them from behind, and she was given a pair of knee-high boots. Chariot costumes were not always practical, but they were definitely enough to be memorable.

As Amy skeptically stared at her tiny frame in the mirror, Misaha gave her the final touch—a hammer for one hand, and a large chisel for the other. She concluded that she was supposed to be some sort of stone goddess or something, which, given the design and color of this outfit, was actually pretty cool.

She was ushered out of the studio with a smile and some light clapping from a giddy Misaha, and found that an equally chipper Zakuya had just ushered Marcus out. His outfit was similar except instead of the skirt he had pants. He had the hammer and chisel though, as well as the wings and the tiara.

"Nice legs," he teased, eyeing Amy's legs for a moment.

"Shaddup," Amy elbowed him with a smirk. "Honestly I don't know how I put up with you sometimes."
"And yet here we are about to ride a chariot together across the Capitol square," Marcus reminded her, "it'll be about as romantic as we can get."
"The funny thing is," Amy laughed, as the stylists quietly escorted them to where their chariot was waiting, "is that I can't tell if you're serious or not!"

"Am I ever serious?" Marcus grinned shamelessly.

"You better damn well be once the 'games start." She reminded him.

"I will," Marcus gave her a reassuring pat on the shoulder. "Let me assure you."

[Zulera301]

AUTHOR'S NOTE: The Chariot Parade concludes and we get our first glimpse of the training center, as well as a few more volunteer tributes. There's a bit of vague foreshadowing in this chapter as to what happens later on in the story. You can probably also get a decent idea of who will be strong and who also might be trouble later on. Happy Reading!

CHAPTER 6: The Training Center

There were a few moments before the tribute parade actually started, where the tributes converged and boarded their chariots as the systematic ritual began to take form. The chariots lined up, but not before Marcus and Amy managed to size up their competition. Charm and Luster, the District 1 pair who had also volunteered, were arrayed in dazzlingly white and gold outfits that sparkled. They have the red-clad District 2 pair smiles and waves, as if indicating that they would totally be up for reinstating the old career pack. Behind them however, were another pair of charming voices.

"Nice wings," a boy's voice chirped, approaching Amy. "I didn't know District 2 sent tiny kids to volunteer for 'em though."
"Watch it, bub," Amy warned, glaring fearlessly up at the boy, who, like his partner, was dressed in a dark form-fitting suit with various neon-colored lines running across in in shades of blue. This was definitely District 3's work.

"Nah, I wasn't trying to demean ya or anything," the boy explained as his partner walked up behind him, "I like the wings… and I just found it surprising that someone so small managed to beat up all the other kids to get to the stage." He had watched the reapings—he knew how District 2 worked in that regard.

"Well thanks then, I guess. Should I know you?" Amy tilted her head.

"Shaft Monroe, District 3," the boy verified his identity, "'n this is Asher Carrol." He pointed to a slightly taller girl who was clearly his partner.

"We can talk about it more in training if you're hoping for an alliance," Marcus spoke up, "Nice job on volunteering though." District 3 did not produce volunteers nearly as often as Districts 1 or 2 did, but both of these kids had volunteered this year, which did secretly impress Amy. Perhaps they would be valuable allies—or deadly enemies. Or then again maybe they would be pathetic like the kid last year from District 10 who had volunteered and had died within 38 seconds of the games starting.

"See ya then," Asher grinned, winking at Marcus, as the tributes began lining up. The others were too far away to see at the moment, and so Marcus and Amy figured they'd get to meet these kids proper once it was time for the training routines that started tomorrow and went for a week.

"District 3… thoughts?" Marcus smirked as he got on the left and let tiny little Amy step up on the right.

"Let 'em prove themselves then we can talk," Amy nodded at him, and after that their chariot lurched forward and they began to move.

The doors opened and out went District 1, greeted by cheering crowds and Capitol audiences. Moments later, the District 2 chariot followed and out they went, to cheering crowds. Caesar Flickerman and Claudius Templesmith, both of whom were still alive and kicking, had some interesting commentary on them.

"Look at the contrast of those two!" the latter had commented, "clearly there's some district unity if those two can put aside their differences and harmonize so wonderfully!"

Their commentary soon shifted to the flashy District 3 pair, who were both fairly attractive as well. They had both volunteered and so there were pretty high hopes for them this year. The District 4 pair had been reaped properly, although still looked competitive.

District 2, however, was not finished. When Marcus and Amy raised their hammers and chisels into the air, the wings that were behind them, which had formerly been folded up, spread out magnificently, shimmering in the light of the moon and of the bright Capitol city. Perhaps there was a strategic reason for why the chariot parades were always held at night. It seemed more attention-grabbing that way.

Marcus and Amy nodded their approval, and the cheers for Panem's most loyal district rang louder through the air. They were definitely going to be a hit this year.

However, while they could not exactly turn around and see for themselves, Marcus and Amy would definitely have competition this year. The District 11 pair seemed rather popular, and their colorful costumes that represented a bountiful harvest did leave their arms bare as if to show off their physical strength. The District 12 pair were similar—those stylists, Amadeus and Celine, might have had a reputation of dressing the tributes to look the same as each other, but they both looked rather impressive in their black, shimmering outfits with silver streaks across various parts to represent metal ore. The mining district, while still Panem's poorest (only contested by District 11), was certainly no longer a laughingstock. Districts 11 and 12 had lately become some of the largest threats to the career packs of the years, and not just because of Aveline Togisala either.

Soon enough, the winged District 2 tributes and all of the others were forming a semicircle around President Snow's balcony, where the man would give a short little speech like he did every year.

"Welcome to the 92nd Annual Hunger Games." He said in his usual calm but commanding tone. "And may the odds be ever in your favor."

The fanfare began again and the chariots began rolling again. For a moment, Amy's eyes met with the ominous stare that the President sometimes gave people—although if there was enmity here, even cunning little Amy was clueless as to what it could be. Instead though, she simply smiled. She had no reason to fear the man. She and her district liked the Capitol. Perhaps it was a bit twisted given that these were the people sending her and others to their death, but it was a small price to pay, it seemed.

But on the other hand, nothing was ever as it seemed. Still… Amy had volunteered for the games and had not said or felt like she had done anything worthy of gaining the Capitol's ire. She saw no reason to bite the hand that fed her like this.

Either way, the tributes were led back to the tribute tower, where they disembarked and many of them went up the elevators to their apartments again.

"You coming, kid?" Marcus called out, holding an elevator door open for her as a boy from District 5 and a girl from District 8 stepped in with him.

"I—I'll just be a minute," Amy admitted, but Marcus just laughed.

"The training center will still be there when you get changed," he quipped, "or do you like showing off your legs like that?"

"Oh, stuff it!" Amy rolled her eyes and laughed, but boarded another elevator and took it downwards.

She caught her first glimpse of the dimly lit training room—a place that she and the others would spend the next week familiarizing themselves with as they prepared to literally kill each other. It was deserted and devoid of Capitol officials even though, and that made Amy curious. What if tributes tried to attack each other early? She assumed there was some kind of technology in the walls or something that could shoot at the offender to prevent the action or whatnot. Amy didn't worry about that though, because she was not here to cause trouble. Sure the story of a tribute going rogue would last a year or two, but Amy intended to be immortalized, so to speak, regardless of if she became a victor or not.

She was only alone for a few moments though before the first tributes started to appear down here to get a look at the place. Some more eager or curious tributes would want to come explore the training center the night before, and Amy was among them. He found himself soon being greeted by Marcus, as well as those District 3 kids Shaft and Asher; and a pair of kids from District 8.

"Someone was eager," Marcus unsurprisingly teased as he eyed Amy's little costume.

"I doubt too many people care what the victor is wearing when he or she wins the 'games," Amy retorted, "but hey. Nice seeing you, ya big lummox. Put me down!"

Marcus laughed. "I haven't even touched you yet!" he defended himself.

"You were about to," Amy retorted, "I can see that mischievous glint in your eyes."

"And what are you going to do about it, tiny?" Marcus teased, sweeping Amy up off of her feet, causing the tiny girl to squeal in such a way that she was now red and embarrassed. Then, a moment later she realized that she was still holding the hammer and chisel props from the parade… so, she threw them at Marcus' head.

"Ouch! Ouch!" he flinched slightly as the props hit him, but they were light and not meant to be weapons. "Just for that, missy…" he lifted Amy up over his head, causing some of the others to laugh as Amy froze, not wanting to fall out of the giant boy's hands.

"Marcus, I'm going to gut you so brutally at the cornucopia for this!" she barked.

Marcus dropped her almost unceremoniously on her feet, where those wings attached to her back flapped in an amusing display.

"You ass," she punched him, before turning around and noticing District 3 glancing at them.

"So this is the great Marcus and Amy from District 2, huh?" the boy smirked.

"What of it," Amy instantly defended herself.

"Nothing," he smirked, "but I think the four of us could get along…"

[Zulera301]

AUTHOR'S NOTES: Aveline makes a brief appearance in this chapter as we get to see bit more about the tributes that she's mentoring this year. Also, we learn a little more about Marcus and Amy, and about that District 3 pair. The career pack also begins to take shape, and despite their 'quarrels', Marcus and Amy are still as close of friends as ever.

CHAPTER 7: Friendly Matters

Marcus and Amy's sojourn in the training room was brief, but they did manage to gain the approval of the strong-looking District 3 pair due to Marcus' silly stunt of lifting Amy over his head. They did not linger long here though, knowing that they would have plenty of time to come back tomorrow.

"I'm honestly half-surprised Misaha and Zakuya didn't suggest you carry me over your head," she quipped, "or did they tell you that?"
"They don't talk to us at all, remember?" Marcus reminded her as they were joined in the elevator by a girl from District 12, as well as Aveline, her mentor. For a moment, before any buttons were pressed, Amy and Ava's eyes met, but instead of anything harsh, Ava had a few respectful words to say to them.

"The two of you looked good out there," the tiny mentor complimented, "your mentor must be proud."

Amy actually cracked a genuine little smile at this. "District 2 admires strength and courage." She replied, "That is why we remember your friend Chel… and that is why many of us respect you."

Monica was the only one who felt awkward by all of that, and she pushed the 2 and 12 buttons on the elevator, causing it to move.

"Well thank you then," Ava nodded softly. She did not want to really say much more on the subject, not wanting to remind them that she felt no glory for doing what she had done—that it was only necessary for her own survival.

"No problem," Amy and Marcus waved as they got off on the District 2 floor, "See you around."

Aveline personally felt that District 2 got a bad rap most of the time since it produced so many bloodthirsty career tributes that would slay other children with impunity. They had quite an impressive record over the years given that for as long as Ava could remember, District 2 was always responsible for multiple tribute deaths, and for never dying in the bloodbath.

"Please tell me you're not rooting for them," Monica sighed as they reached the 12th floor and got off, meeting Rafael there. "you're kind of supposed to be *our* lifeline, remember?"

"I'm still on your side—I'm not rooting for them," Ava insisted, "but I can respect them. I respected Chel and Chaco from my games."
"Well, you do seem pretty fond of District 2," Rafael quipped,

"I respected others too!" Ava defended herself, "Zaffre; Samuel; Ginger; Florence; Alice…"

"What about Iris?" Monica spoke up, "she killed your brother."
Aveline froze on the spot, tensing up, and for a moment there was awkward silence.

"We are not going to talk about this," she crossed her arms. "Do not speak of her again."

Even a year after the fact, Iris triggered unusual emotions in Ava Togisala. On one side, that girl had brutally slaughtered Ava's brother and district partner in the opening minutes, but on the other hand, Ava had seen Iris Durango at her most vulnerable, realizing that she was just another young girl whose mind had been twisted by the Capitol's games.

Needless to say, Rafael and Monica exchanged skeptical glances, but did not say anything else as their mentor disappeared into her room.

"I think it's still weird," Rafael pointed out, "she's our mentor and yet we're older than her."

"It's not like I disrespect her;" Monica shook her head, "but I've heard the victors talk. They don't even understand each other. How can we expect them to understand us, or us understand them?"
"I guess we just have to trust them." Rafael shrugged, "they're kind of our lifeline here, so maybe we should cut back some of the sass."
"There's a fine line between being sassy and being an asshole;" Monica chuckled, "I cross that line far too often."

"At least you admit it," Rafael chuckled. "still… I guess it's a way to get our minds off of the games."
"That's one way of looking at it," Monica approved, "I'll save it for tomorrow though."
"Not a bad idea," the boy nodded his approval. "Anyways, I'm beat. I'll see you tomorrow."

"See ya then," Monica cooed, her outfit beginning to come off before she even reached her room.

Ten stories down, District 2 was still awake and were discussing the night's events.

"You think '3 has any potential this year?" Marcus asked, with tiny little Amy (slightly grudgingly) situated on his lap, still in her conspicuous chariot costume (sans the wings, props, and tiara).

"Without saying 'let's propose an alliance' to them before seeing what they do… I would say they do," Amy nodded. Marcus had convinced her to sit there because he ran his fingers through her hair. Simple as it was, it seemed to be a nice little way to pacify his younger district partner, so Marcus went with it.

"Are you excited for tomorrow?" He smirked at her

"Of course," Amy nodded, "It's nothing personal or anything, but business is business and District 2 needs to win this thing if we're to send our message."
To cut a long story short, Amy fell asleep in Marcus' lap, much to her embarrassment ("the way you caressed my hair was… ah, hell with it. You win this time, you big lunk."), but they woke up the next morning refreshed and ready to go. Laid out for them was a set of black clothing that seemed simple but effective for what it was for—training uniforms. This year they had a blue stripe on each side of the shirt, the sleeves, and the pants. A square with a number 2 on it graced the shirt on both shoulders and the back of the neck, as well as on the hips of the pants.

It made Marcus chuckle about how well the Capitol knew their sizes, and how much tinier Amy's outfit was than his own (due only of course to how vastly different they were in size). Either way, they got dressed and headed down to the training center after a quick breakfast. The career tributes were there early almost every year, and for good reason too.

The protocol for tribute training was very different than it had been in the past. Nowadays, the tributes were essentially free to come and go as they wished, and theoretically, they didn't even have to show up. This included the private sessions as well, but skipping out on those would just earn the tribute a training score of 0, which was something everyone would laugh at.

Of course, there was little motivation not to hit up the training center considering that tributes were still of course confined to their apartments or this building, and so they might as well put the designated week to some good use.

Even with how early they had arrived, they still found that they had been beaten there by both tributes from Districts 1, 3, and 4. The former of these seemed to be waiting for them.
"We were wondering when District 2 would show up," Charm, the girl from District 1, cooed. "it's been hours since we got here! We've tried everything already!"

"Bull," Amy laughed. Charm giggled and admitted that she had been lying and had only arrived about 15 minutes prior. After a bit of meeting and greeting, both Charm and Luster agreed to an alliance. District 4 was quietly by themselves, watching them with cautious eyes.

"Any luck with District 4?" Marcus asked Luster, who seemed to be the unofficial 'spokesperson' for District 1, just as he was such for District 2.

"All we know about them is that their names are Draco and Amanda." Luster shrugged, "As soon as District 3's done doing whatever they're doing though, they did say they wanted to talk to you."

"Me, or both of us?" Marcus tilted his head.

"Both of you," Luster indicated; "something about an alliance, I assume"
"No luck with '4 then, eh?" Amy glanced up at the District 1 boy.

"none yet," Luster nodded, "but I think we could settle with '1, '2, and '3, if you two are up for it?"
"Of course," Marcus grinned, "gotta have the career pack going strong, right?"

Even Amy nodded in agreement, before they turned to watch District 3 run a gauntlet that had apparently been set up by District 1. A test, perhaps; but it had both of the District 2 tributes nodding in approval. Soon, Shaft and Asher approached them, grinning proudly.

"Are you two up for allowing two more tributes into your pack?" Shaft offered his hand, which Amy almost instantly took.

"Aye, we're down," the tiny girl smirked, "hopefully we will not regret that decision."
"Come now," Asher giggled, "joining the career pack is almost an ultimatum. If you recruit us, we either join you, or we decline and you come and kill us in the opening minutes. We wouldn't ask to join if we didn't think we could handle ourselves."

"Sounds reasonable to me," Marcus laughed, noticing other tributes begin to appear, "come on. Let's go try out some of these fancy weapons so that the others will remember who the strongest tributes are."
Amy was not big on the whole arrogance factor, but she didn't mind having her ego stroked. Despite her tiny size, she quickly proved to be as good as Luster, Charm, Asher, and Shaft, and even as talented as her partner Marcus. Her spirits were high—this was going to be a good day.

[Zulera301]

AUTHOR'S NOTE: and here we finally get to see a majority of the other tributes--as well as a handful of the problematic ones. Now I suppose it's just a matter of deciding if the careers are the "good guys" this year, or if they're still the "bad guys". Either way, their alliances and oppositions seem a bit more clear-cut by the end of this chapter, though there are still plenty of wildcards to go around. Happy Reading!

CHAPTER 8: Meeting the Tributes

Training day had begun, and as was practically customary by this time, the career tributes all went for the stations with the heavy weapons so they could show off their speed and agility. One thing the others from Districts 1 and 3 realized was that despite Amy's diminutive stature, she was not weak or frail. Luster found this out the hard way.

"Come on, I was just joshing you, kid," he ruffled the girl's hair, hoping to diffuse the small amount of tension that had formed between them."
"You two should arm wrestle," Marcus suggested, "just use that table near the rope station."

"That'd be overkill," Luster chortled, and surprisingly, Amy nodded.

"I don't want District 1's best ending up with a broken wrist." The tiny girl quipped. This was a striking blow to Luster's pride, and so he invited Amy to the table, sitting across from her. Marcus, Charm, Shaft, and Asher were all right behind them.

A girl from District 8, who had been working with the ropes nearby, stopped to watch the spectacle. She was soon accompanied by a pair of kids with an 11 on their uniforms, as well as a boy with a number 5.

Asher from District 3 worked to 'officiate' the tournament. They began with their left arms, with Amy and Luster putting their hands together as so. The instant the girl released the two tributes' hands, they tensed up and the struggle began.

Everyone present made a mental note to watch out for Amy's left arm, as she ended up slamming Luster's hand to the table in a successful victory. After the usual bout of 'ooh's and 'ahh's from the crowd, they switched hands.

"It's Aveline all over again," Cherry, the girl from '11 quipped.

"Oh no, it's not," Amy turned to smirk at the larger girl, "I am not left-handed." Aveline had surprised a few people last year during her games by pretending she was right-handed only to reveal she was actually left-handed. Amy, however, was not going down that road.

The results of the right-handed arm-wrestle took slightly longer to appear, but Amy emerged victorious once again, leaving Luster shaking his head.

"Well-played, boy; well played." The tiny girl offered her hand to shake; it had just been a friendly competition, after all—not a schism of the career pack.

Amy strode over towards the ranged weapons station, picking up a set of knives that earned her a distinct look from Marcus.

"What the hell are you—" she began, "oh, is this about that stereotype thing you mentioned on the train? Because if it is, I'm going to hit you."
"I wasn't joking when I said it was," the massive boy smirked, keeping his arms crossed as Amy stayed true to her word and struck him in the stomach. He did not flinch, but he did rub it a bit after she reeled her hand back in.

"Well what about the boys then," she quipped, "they're all these big dumb brutes with more brawn than brains who go for the giant swords or axes."
"Just for that," Marcus chuckled, ruffling Amy's hair rather forcefully, "I'm going to prove you wrong."

"Ooooh, you going to use a bow or something?" she nodded her head towards the nearby archery station, where the District 11 pair and the boy from District 12 had gone.

"No, I'll just use a club or something," Marcus answered, "or maybe I'll go for the swords and axes anyways. Who cares about generalizations? District 2 is apparently doing something right, given how many victors we have. If it ain't broke; don't fix it."

One of the oddities this year was that the District 3 pair were right alongside the careers demonstrating their abilities all the same. Perhaps there was a reason they had volunteered after all.

"If you two keep up like this," Marcus quipped after an hour or two of swinging swords and axes alongside Shaft and Asher, "I'll start wondering if District 3 has built training academies or not."

"Not yet," Asher chuckled, "but we have volunteers now and again."
"So do you two have any technological intellect and prowess?" Amy raised an eyebrow.

"What do you take us for, District 1?" Shaft exclaimed with a laugh before he received a tap on the shoulder from a slightly cross-looking Charm.

"We're right next to you, you know." She retorted, before picking up her spear, turning around and lobbing it squarely into the center of her target.
"One thing you might have noticed about us," Shaft reassured her, "we joke a lot."

"Careful whose egos you threaten," Marcus teased, "we careers take it seriously."
"Duly noted," Asher and Shaft nodded approvingly, "anything else we need to know in order to be admitted into your super special club?"
"You've gotta know how to kick ass and fight," Luster explained, "otherwise, I think the two of you have got what it takes."

"Well that's a relief," Asher giggled, before glancing around, "oh dear… we might have competition…"
It was hard to tell if she was being serious or not, but when the others glanced around at Asher's line of sight, they noticed the dark-skinned tributes from Districts 11 and 12 speaking to each other rather reservedly over near the survival stations. They all appeared to be very solidly built, which in turn caused Marcus to make a joke to Amy about how she was the smallest tribute this year.
"Well then," she retorted without skipping a beat, "it seems that the tiniest tribute of the games is going to win for the 2nd year in a row then. At least I know I'll have a few challenges." She glanced at Marcus, and then at the pairs from District 1 and District 3. Moments later, they glanced over at the pairs of tributes from District 11 and District 12, who were glancing back at them. Charm waved and smiled at them, but otherwise the tributes went back to their business.

Soon, it was mid-afternoon and most of the tributes had gone to lunch, including the career pack, who, as usual, had taken their own table. This year it was shaping up to be District 1 and District 2 as usual, but also District 3 again. The District 4 tributes, Draco and Amanda, seemed less interested in joining this year, so there would not likely be another Iris Durango from this district.

The suspicions Marcus and Amy had about District 11 and District 12 teaming up were confirmed though, for they sat together and conversed as if they were good friends. While tributes were a bit more open with each other in recent years as opposed to historically, usually they only sat close to each other at lunch when they were in an alliance of some sort.

"2 and 3 will be a handful this year," Cherry insisted, turning to the others.

"That girl is tiny though," Monica laughed, "smaller even than Kairi or Hotaru from District 5 and 7." Those two were the youngest tributes this year (both 13), but were both taller than Amy.

"That didn't stop Aveline, did it?" Dante quipped,

"Course not," Monica nodded, turning to Rafael who was scribbling on a piece of paper. "but I suppose what it means is that we need to watch her carefully. Her partner will also be trouble."

No one doubted that Marcus Romero would score high. He was tall and muscular, and had proven his strength already in the first few hours of training.

"So, Rafael," the District 11 pair turned to the quieter boy, "what did you see about them? You were taking notes on all the tributes, weren't you?"
"Aye," he nodded, "Luster, the boy from '1, uses a sword. He and his partner Charm are a bit ditzy, but strong. She uses spears, and so she's deadlier from a range. They'll work together well for sure."

The others nodded, mentally noting these facts as Rafael continued.

"Asher from District 3 shows considerable proficiency with clubs and maces; she seems to like the blunt objects; or might go for hammers if she can find them." he went to District 3 next, "and the boy, Shaft, is an archer. Both of them have a very good aim, and seem to be pretty adept at building traps."

"So what about District 2?" Monica seemed the most interested in all of this, and apparently her partner was the most observant one.

"They both specialize in exactly what you'd think they would specialize in," the boy explained, "Marcus uses heavy weapons, and Amy uses knives. The good news is that I think they were full enough of themselves that they did not pay us much attention until we glanced their way. Just don't draw too much attention to yourselves. The element of surprise was one of the keys to Ava's success."

Most of the tributes returned to the training center after lunch. While they all technically had a whole week to decide who was and wasn't going to be part of their alliances, it seemed that most of them had already made up their minds halfway through the first day.

[Zulera301]

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Tomorrow (in-story) we get to the training scores. In the meantime, remember that Career Tributes are human too, and they've got their own hopes and dreams and wants and fears. Amy Zavala is no exception. It doesn't make her weak--it makes her real.
Also, Marcus has a heart too. He's not just this big dumb idiot who teases her or anything. Let it not be said that there's a lack of some strong District 2 unity this year. Happy Reading!

CHAPTER 9: A Tribute's Lament

Days 2 through 6 of training were all roughly the same, with the alliances becoming more and more clear-cut with each passing day. District 11 and District 12 were definitely a formal alliance at this point, and they seemed to have also recruited Talon Marcos and Azure Velaskez from District 8 onto their side. It would be a 6-on-6 battle if it came to that, for the career pack this year had been clearly defined as Districts 1, 2, and 3. The other districts in between had made up alliances of their own, and many of them were still flying solo.

Little of this mattered to Amy Zavala though. She had a message to send, and wanted to make sure that it was loud and clear. All these alliances meant was that anyone outside of Districts 1, 2, 3, 8, 11, and 12 would be hard-pressed to win against two powerful alliances consisting of half of the tribute pool.

"Any idea how long that alliance will hold up," Marcus joked over breakfast that morning—tomorrow would be the private sessions, where they would learn their scores. It would be one of the last two places where the tributes could appeal to sponsors, the other being the tribute interviews that would be that night. Then, they would get hauled off first thing the next morning to be thrown into an arena and fight to the death. It was a grim cycle, but there was a saying that circulated around District 2 that referenced this.

"Many must die so that a few may live in glory."

Amy did not just view that as a reference to the Hunger Games, but also as a reference to the Capitol. Maybe she had spent too much time listening to Enobaria ramble about it, but she had never thought about it too hard.

"They might be a valid threat," Amy agreed with Marcus regarding his question, "if there's one thing that the academies taught me that I wouldn't have thought of myself, was to never underestimate a tribute. There is no telling what kids will do when they are desperate enough."

"That's truer than you think," Clove spoke up after swallowing a large chunk of food practically whole, "Everyone says they remember how Enobaria tore a kid's throat out, but do you know who it actually happened?" It had been 30 years ago, and so there was technically plenty of time for the details to be a little on the hazy side.

"They were grappling—the final two," Clove continued, taking the silence as a negative, "he was trying to pin her, but she was clinging too closely to him. Realizing that she had an opening, she sunk her teeth into his neck and tore his throat out just like that. She was a bloody mess by the time she got back to the hovercraft to get cleaned up."

"So here's another one for you," Marcus spoke up, "usually District 2 has two mentors—how come it's just you by your lonesome?" He had been meaning to ask, but Clove was a volatile creature, and his mind had gotten occupied with other things such as training in the meantime.

"Because Elroy retired after Kaede and Katsuo won, and those two aren't fit to mentor," Clove shrugged, "so they dragged me back up to the stage kicking and screaming, stuck a needle in my arm, and here I am. It's a grizzly cycle."
"Bullshit," Amy called the mentor out.

"Fine; you're right. I volunteered for it again, but that doesn't mean that it's all a happy world of milk and honey, y'see. It's about damn time District 2 got a victor who wasn't completely broken by the games. Stay sane, kids, alright?"

"Of course," Marcus gave her his friendly smirk, "if Districts 11 and 12 can come out of there unscathed, so can we."

"oh, no one comes out of the arena unscathed," Clove corrected him, "there isn't a single victor, no matter how charming and calm they appear on screen, that isn't a shattered mess of who they used to be. Some are just worse than others. I'm certainly not the token example of a happy, healthy victor. If that's the message you're trying to send, Amy, I've got bad news for you."

"There are a lot of messages I wish to send," Amy indicated, "but the main one is that I not only intend to win, but I intend to bring home a victor the following year. The Hunger Games are more than just strength, you know. There are smarts involved—especially with that Head Gamemaker."

"Hey now, kiddo," Marcus ruffled her hair, "don't get too uppity yet. "Shouting strategies isn't going to do much when a bigger kid puts you in a headlock." He laughed and demonstrated this on her, causing Amy to hiss as she was lifted from her seat at the breakfast table.

"Oh come ON, you ass. I'm eating!" she growled, but even Clove laughed.

"I'd say be careful not to get too big for your britches, kid." She joked, "but that doesn't seem to be a problem, given your size."
Amy groaned, hanging limp in Marcus' arms, before he thankfully let her go and the two of them took their seats again.

"Et tu, Clove?" she glared at her mentor, who was quietly eating her food as if nothing had happened.

The two tributes finished breakfast and headed down to the training room again where they both showed off their skills alongside District 1 and District 3. Their most threatening alliance, which would likely be comprised of Districts 8, 11, and 12, seemed to be working more with things like camouflage, traps, and survival, which made Amy pick up on what they were doing. Amy gave Marcus a look before casting one their way. The larger boy nodded and whispered that they would talk about it later.

The day wore on, and it was clear that Districts 1, 2, and 3 were going to be formidable, but on the other hand, even District 8 was shaping up to be something good this year. Last year, they lost an average-scoring tribute in the bloodbath and a very high-scoring tribute to Aveline from District 12, just moments after he had killed a powerful District 7 girl.

Amy did get a bit roughhoused by the others, though it was all in good fun. It was almost comical how much smaller she was than any of the others, both in the career pack and outside of it. She was the only one who had not topped 5 feet yet.

At the end of the day though, she seemed upset. She was able to put that aside for a bit as she spoke to Marcus on their way to their apartment.

"You know what '11 and '12 are doing, right?"
"They're doing what they do best," he shrugged, "survival." The outer districts were used to going without food, and knew the wilderness a bit better than other districts. That Sagittaria girl was right. District 11 had seen a lot.

"They're also not showing us what they specialize in," Amy pointed out."
"Come on, we can still knock their heads in, right?" Marcus reassured her, though Amy still seemed a bit upset about something. Marcus was not too thick to notice.

"Okay, I'll bite. What's wrong?"

"Honestly…" Amy took a deep breath, "I don't like the way you all throw me around just because I'm small and easy to carry. I don't care if you make fun of me for being tiny, but those others—even District 3—they have no rights to be pushing me around."

"Come on," Marcus tried reassuring her, "I highly doubt that they don't think you're dangerous,"

"That doesn't change anything though. Even if they do think I'm dangerous, they aren't taking me seriously—which I guess is fine and all, but if we're a team, we should at least act like one until we take out Districts 11 and 12."

"I've got your back, kid" Marcus reassured her, "I know I'm probably responsible for half the teasing, but I know you—and I respect you. Think of it this way—when it comes down to the six of us, we can turn on them and do them in just like that—Flawless victory."

"Maybe I'm just in kind of a slump," Amy admitted, "I was sure that some outlying district would have a kid smaller than me… but no. Here I am, from District 2, and I'm still the tiniest little runt that gets made fun of and shit. It shouldn't bother me… but it does. Those kids have no right to do that."
"Ego issues, huh?" Marcus patted her back.

"That's one way to put it," Amy nodded, "just… ugh. I wish I could get my training score already so I can remind them who's boss; or accept that I'm weak."

"Hey, don't start getting doubts about yourself now, Amy," Marcus smirked, "unlike them, you volunteered. If you had waited 4 years, you might have fared even better."

"I guess that's just another message I need to send then—that just because I'm the runt of the pack doesn't mean I'm weak. Thanks for hearing me out Marcus. As much as I smacktalk you… well, just thanks." She put her arms around the larger boy appreciatively for a moment.

"Let's get some rest though—private sessions tomorrow, right?"
"Right," Marcus ruffled her hair, grinning, "we've got those in the bag…

[Zulera301]

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Slightly late chapter, and those who have read my prequel will recognize the title being the same. This, since this is the scores chapter, it will be longer than usual. Also, remember that Marcus and Amy are good friends. They just show their affection by harassing each other, like best friends do.
Happy Reading!

CHAPTER 10: The Scores

The morning of the private sessions had finally arrived. This was Amy's time to shine, and also Marcus's. District 2 was going to do extremely well this year—maybe even perfectly. Not that Amy wanted to outshine Chel Colorado from last year (who had scored a perfect 12), but she did want to let the others know that she was not just some tiny little kid who had gotten lucky. District 3 and District 1 seemed to understand this though, and so hopefully the others would soon learn too.

"Go all out, or don't go out at all," Clove told them over breakfast. Her mouth had been rather full when she said this, but Marcus and Amy had both still understood what she was saying.

"Why would we do anything less?" Marcus quipped, "We're career tributes. The others need to fear us—not the other way around."
"District 11 and District 12 are planning something… and something bold if they've recruited District 8. Those kids didn't look too threatening."

"Fair enough," Marcus acknowledged that it was never wise to underestimate a tribute; even ones form the outlying districts such as 11 and 12. District 12 used to be a laughingstock, but they had recently scored 2 victors in the last decade. District 11 had a grand total of 8 victors, spaced fairly evenly, over Hunger Games history.

"District 2, District 2" Clove chanted, "where there is loyalty there is victory." It was a cheesy little chant that had been circulating around for a while, though had not really shown its face since the days of Katsuo and Kaede, who had been the district's last victors.

"Loyalty to the cause," Amy and Marcus chanted, and while neither one said it, they were not talking about the cause of the Capitol.

"I don't need to tell ya then, what you need to do," Clove explained, "you go big or go home. Either that or I kill you before the games."

"There's a rule against that," Amy reminded her.

"Does it look like I care?" Clove retorted, "stick a needle in my arm if you want to control me."
Amy actually grabbed one of the needles Clove kept by her and stabbed her shoulder. The mentor tensed up, before slumping back in her chair, glazed-eyed. Marcus chuckled.

"She's either going to hate you or salute you for that," he quipped,

"She'll like me," Amy nodded, "Clove likes tributes with gall."
Sure enough, they were just finishing breakfast when Clove came back around, groaning. "You're a right forward little shit, Amy," she grunted, "I like kids like you."

"I do what I can," Amy retorted, "it's the only way people ever consider taking the little runt of the tribute pack seriously."

"Well you best be getting down there." Clove warned. She always seemed much calmer after getting pricked with those needles. It made Amy wonder what was in them, but she didn't ask. "If Charm and Luster have already gone you'll be late."
The two tributes, already in their training uniforms for the day, scrambled down there and found that District 1 was actually still waiting as well. The tributes were whispering among themselves, all the way down to Districts 11 and 12. Dante from '11 and Monica from '12 seemed to be throwing dice with each other, and the kids from District 8 were chatting with the kids from Districts 7 and 9.

Soon, Luster Marcelo was called in, and about 15 minutes later, Charm DeMetz was summoned.

It was thus not long before Amy Zavala was going to demonstrate her skills. First though, Marcus went in with a smirk and a "Wish me luck!"

"You don't need luck, you great oaf," Amy retorted. Marcus simply chuckled.

The large boy glanced up at the Gamemakers, where he saw Zurok step forward to address him personally. He recognized her for her long, pointed ears and the wings on her back. The Capitol people did seem to go pretty far with their appearances sometimes.

"Welcome, Marcus Romero," she cooed, in an oddly unsettling grandmotherly tone, "you have 15 minutes to present your chosen skill. And remember: you catch more Night Witches with honey. Begin."

Marcus didn't know what to make of that last part, but shrugged and demonstrated his skills. He pressed buttons to summon hordes of holograms, which he cleaved through with two-handed swords, battleaxes, spears, maces, clubs, and hammers. He was strong but he was also fast. Not a single holographic dummy reached his place. He felt 15 minutes of boasting his strength, weapon diversity, and speed would be good enough, and so when they dismissed him, he bowed.

"Thank you for your consideration," he smirked, before striding out.

"You're up, kiddo," he ruffled Amy's hair, and moments later, her name was called.

She too faced Zurok once in the training center again, and she said the same things to her.

"Welcome, Amy Zavala," the old woman smiled sweetly, "You have 15 minutes to present your chosen skills. And remember: you catch more Night Witches with honey. Begin…"

Amy did something similar to Marcus, except instead of grabbing battleaxes or greatswords, she grabbed throwing knives and daggers. She exhausted her throwing knives as she hurled a couple dozen of them at the charging holograms, which burst as they were struck in a killing location, and went into melee combat with her daggers once those were gone. She managed to sweep through them rather effectively as well, until her 15 minutes were up.

"Thank you for your consideration," the tiny girl bowed before exiting.

"Tell you what," Marcus smirked, one they were back in the apartment, "Let's play a game of cards here while we wait for the others to finish. We can bet on it."
"What do we have to bet?" Amy tilted her head.

"Well, I thinking," Marcus smirked. "If you beat me, I'll stop teasing you. If I beat you, you have to sit on my lap while we watch the scores."
"Why the hell do you want that?" Amy looked slightly irked.

"To annoy you." He smirked shamelessly. Amy cracked a smile, groaned, and shook her head.

"Anything to try and get you off my ass, you great stupid lug;" She elbowed him, "fine, let's play."

Much to her dismay, Amy lost the game, and so when late afternoon came to watch the scores, Amy was perched on Marcus' lap, her face so long it was almost sagging. But, soon she perked up, for the television had come on.

"Ladies and Gentlemen—the training scores of this year's tributes, for the 92nd Annual Hunger Games."

Marcus and Amy were now watching the screen intently, Amy not even caring that Marcus had his arms around her.

"Luster Marcelo; District 1, with a score of… 10"
This was unsurprising. Amy went into full analytical mode at this point, figuring and guessing what the other tributes might have done.

"Charm DeMetz; District 1, with a score of… 11"
Amy and Marcus both expressed surprise at this one, thinking that Charm was kind of a ditz. Well, if she could kill things effectively, she was a good member of the team in their eyes.

"Marcus Romero; District 2, with a score of… 12"
Amy smirked, and was not surprised. Marcus threw his arms into the air and cheered.
"Good job, ya stupid idiot," Amy smirked, "now shaddup and lemme see my score."

"Amy Zavala; District 2, with a score of… 12"
"Your words wound me… so does that score," Marcus joked, and Amy simply smirked. She had scored perfectly. District 2 had scored perfectly. They had both gotten perfect 12s.

"Shaft Monroe; District 3, with a score of… 10"
The careers had made a wise choice in recruiting that District 3 boy. He'd definitely be a valuable ally if his score was anything to go by.

"Asher Carrol; District 3, with a score of… 11"
Asher was 18, and if she had volunteered, that kind of training score was clearly an explanation why.

"Draco VanHelen; District 4, with a score of… 8"
Marcus quipped about how Draco was a weird name, but otherwise had nothing to add to that.

"Amanda Stanton; District 4, with a score of… 7"
Amanda had some mighty large shoes to fill if she was going to be the next Iris Durango. Sometimg told Amy that she wouldn't make it far enough to do that though.

"Spark Tracey; District 5, with a score of… 8"
"I never know what to expect from District 5," Marcus quipped, "kind of like how I never know you, Amy. You're a mystery to me."

"Kairi Osega; District 5, with a score of… 6"
"Oh come now… now you're just playing stupid on purpose. You're not as stupid as you look, Marcus, and that says something."

"Axel Tikani; District 6, with a score of… 7"
"Why must you verbally abuse me with such hateful words, Amy? I thought we were friends."

"Erika Chandni; District 6, with a score of… 6"
"Marcus, in case you haven't noticed by now, it's how I show affection. Why do you think I never talk shit about Districts 1 or 3?"

"Arato Redwood; District 7, with a score of… 8"
"Well haven't I said that I show affecting by roughhousing you, Amy?" Marcus ruffled Amy's hair at this. They weren't really paying too much attention to any of these scores since they didn't seem like threats.

"Hotaru Lee; District 7, with a score of… 7"
"Acha… fine. You win this one, Marcus. Just this once… as soon as the scores are done, our bet contract ends though, and you know it."

"Talon Marcos; District 8, with a score of… 5"
"Fine," Marcus laughed, "you know I love you, Amy." a 5, huh? He didn't seem like too promising of an ally for Districts 11 and 12, that was for sure.

"Azure Velzaskez; District 8, with a score of… 7"
"Love you too, Marcus," Amy cracked. 7 was not much higher than 5, and so that kind of score did not seem like it would be something to worry about.

"Husk Levan; District 9, with a score of… 5"
Now they were back to the guaranteed fodder for sure.

"Petrice Hoffman; District 9, with a score of… 4"
Yup… Marcus and Amy were practically calling dibs on who to off in the bloodbath by now.

"Humberto Morrel; District 10, with a score of… 3"
"He's so going to die first," Marcus quipped, "Someone should just throw something at his pedestal and save the trouble."
"If you throw me, Marcus, you'll get blown to smithereens first," Amy retorted.

"Lizzie Mack; District 10, with a score of… 6"
Still nothing impressive out of District 10 it seemed, but no matter. Every district did differently in the games, with Districts 1 and 2 doing the best, and 9 and 10 having the sloppiest records.

"Dante Daniels; District 11, with a score of… 9"
Now it was time to start paying attention again. District 11 usually scored pretty solidly, even if they did not necessarily outscore the careers. Amy was not counting on being able to off one of these kids in the bloodbath, unless his partner was weak…

"Cherry Valdez; District 11, with a score of… 9"
Nope; she was just as good as her partner… District 12 had chosen well… or had District 11 initiated the alliance? It was hard to tell, and didn't really matter. Now was the part that interested Amy the most though—what had those elusive District 12 tributes done? How well were Aveline's first tributes going to perform in these games?

"Rafel West; District 12, with a score of… 10"
Amy raised her eyebrows, and even nodded respectfully. Rafael would be a force to be reckoned with. District 12 could not just be taken lightly like it used to be able to.

"Monica Savage; District 12, with a score of… 11"
Amy actually slow clapped for this score. Monica Savage… a worthy rival… Amy would be interested to see her on the field of combat.

"We rock!" Marcus snapped Amy out of this thought, "Two perfect scores! That's only ever happened a few times in history. Good job Amy—we've fixed ourselves some spots in the Halls of History."
But had they?" Amy tilted her head while she smirked at Marcus. It was one thing to get an incredible score along with one's partner, but the things that one did were what made all the difference. Chel Colorado had been right—it was not how long you lived. It was what you did with your life that mattered.