augustine stood frozen on her metal plate, eyes locked on the Cornucopia. The clock ticked down-ten seconds. She forced herself to stay still. One wrong step and the mines would blow.
Five seconds.
Tributes around her tensed, some shifting too soon...
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Later that day, the atmosphere in the training center shifts. The playful, almost casual interactions between tributes are replaced by something much more intense. Today, it's about showing off. This is the moment where each tribute must demonstrate their skills, their strength, their ability to survive. And, most importantly, it's about catching the attention of the sponsors.
The other tributes go before you. You watch them each take their turn in front of the judges, doing their best to make an impression. Kenji, as expected, saunters up confidently, throwing knives with an almost theatrical precision, clearly relishing the attention. Some of the Careers demonstrate their brute strength, hacking away at dummies and showing off their combat skills. Shoyo, ever the optimist, climbs effortlessly up a simulated cliff, leaping from rock to rock with that same boundless energy you've come to expect from him.
But you hang back. You're not eager to rush in and show off for a room full of Capitol elites. You can feel their eyes on you, expectant, critical. There's a part of you that wants to disappear, to slip under their radar. But you know better. This isn't the time to blend in.
When your name is finally called, you take a steadying breath and step forward, your bow clutched tightly in your hand. As you step into the center of the room, your heart pounds in your chest, but you keep your face neutral. You know you need to do something. Something memorable. Something that will make them look at you, see you, and not just brush you off as another District 12 tribute destined to be forgotten.
THIRD PERSON POV
She takes a moment to survey the room, spotting various targets and dummies set up for archery practice.
Taking a deep breath, she steps to the front, her bow ready in hand. She nocks an arrow and aims at the first dummy, releasing it with a sharp twang. The arrow flies true, hitting the target right in the chest. A small thud follows, but the judges barely acknowledge it—jotting down notes, whispering among themselves, their interest still unfazed.
Undeterred, Augustine takes a step back and draws another arrow, firing at the next dummy. This time, it lands solidly between the eyes. Still, nothing changes in the judges' demeanor; they remain unimpressed, instead focusing on the freshly roasted pig infront of them, all talking and drinking amongst themselve. The familiar frustration wells up inside her, but she doesn't let it show.
Her gaze drifts back to the table laden with food, and her eyes land on the roasted pig with the apple in its mouth.
she recalls the conversation she had with kenma and kuroo—and so far it looked like the forcefield was turned off. good.
With a determined stride, Augustine moves toward the table, her heart racing. She picks up a fresh arrow and readies her stance. The air around her feels charged, the room hushed in anticipation.
In one fluid motion, she nocks the arrow again, taking aim at the apple nestled in the pig's mouth. She draws back, steadying her breath, blocking out the noise and uncertainty.
