Different Perspectives

Chapter 1

Punch. Punch. Block. Duck then swing. It was only moments after this combination did Cato 'kill' his sparring partner. His opponent's suit flashed red before returning to its' usual color of black.Cato only nodded with a smirk toying at his lips as he eyed the taller boy. He had a bruise purpling his cheeks with a split lip. Cato only had a slight bruise on his jaw, one that'll fade faster than the one on Rufus.

Short conversations were heard as partners continued to spar or throw knives. The survival stations were left untouched. Instructors that held those stations were either napping comfortably or spinning a knife around their fingers.

A sudden thud had Cato spinning to see who threw the knife that was now embedded into the wall near his head. He was met with a grinning Clove, casually twirling a knife. Her body position let him know that she was ready to throw another.

"Let's spar." He was ready to agree but a brisk call of attention from Cyprian, the head instructor, had everyone stopping what they were doing. It took a minute before each student was standing in attention. Cyprian let his own version of a smile, which looked similar to a smirk, dance across his scarred lip. He regarded each student with the maniacal look glinting in his deep green eyes, as if suppressing his urge to go on a bloodthirsty killing spree. Cato supposed that's what was supposed to happen to those who weren't chosen to be a tribute.

"We have a new addition to the Academy," he moved aside to reveal a girl who stood at a height that was a couple inches shorter than the rest of the girls. Cato would've classified her as one of the shorter, weaker candidates but her name made his train of thought pause. "Lælia Caverly."

Caverly. Lyme Caverly, victor of the 52nd Hunger Games. Children of past victors that were applied into the Academy were treated as heroes, as legacies, but something about this girl told Cato she wouldn't be as eager to be a tribute like the rest of them. And it wasn't just how she seemed to eye each weapon with distaste.

--

Everyone dispersed back to what they were doing and the rhythmic punches continued. Cato returned back to Clove who held an expectant gaze."Let's spar." He took a swig of his water bottle then took the short steps toward Clove. The pair quickly fell into a certain rhythm and like always, a small group gathered around the two.

Talks of betting on Cato or Clove took place around them. With the brunette, Clove put in quick punches but always seemed to hop out of Cato's range. Her fingers twitched as if she wanted to throw a knife instead of a punch. Cato was all offense with large strides and lunges.

No one really won between the two of them. They were better off as a team.

"Break it up. You've got training to do." Tullia, another instructor, entered the half circle as she sent warning glances towards the crowd.

"Hey, Clove! We've got a new set of dummies." The girl broke apart from her tussle with Cato to glance up at the new, high tech robots with a target painted on their chests. Cato released her from his grasp and took a seat to rest.

He pushed himself a bit too much today. So he took the time to wander the large room, wondering if the new Gauntlet course was worth his time.

"...is she doing?" One trainee whispered as the two friends glanced over the legacy, Lælia, hunching over to learn a snare.

The instructor seemed thrilled to have students and eagerly gathered some tools for her, talking soundlessly as she directed Lælia's slender hands.

No one went to the survival stations. Lælia was the first.

"She's a screwed up Legacy, isn't she," one jeered, crossing her arms as she regarded the new girl with such contempt. "Not even touching that spear that got her mother famous. You'd think she'd be proud to be a daughter of a victor."

Cato grunted in agreement. Lælia didn't hold the bloodthirsty gaze Clove or any of the other girls had. His attention on the girl eventually moved on to the new swords presented. Lælia didn't occupy his thoughts for long.

--

Cyprian's gaze only hardened with anger as he saw the legacy kneeling beside the plants instructor. He had no place to force her to use a weapon just yet. After all, all stations were open today and he had no jurisdiction over her choices.

But the opportunities for tomorrow elicited a malicious grin to stretch across his lips. It's time to see what Caverly was made of.

--

Lunch was announced in fifteen minutes, allowing time to those who were practically drenched in sweat to clean up and shower.

Glancing up from the book of herbs and plants, Lælia watched the rest of the trainees herd out of the room and downstairs with their conversations echoing behind them. With a sigh, she stood and brushed her hands onto her thighs. "Lunch means socializing," she muttered.

The plants instructor chuckled as she raised a brow. "You're not like the others." Lælia waited for the judging comment but it never came.

The idea of skipping lunch seemed tempting but she was starving and the food smelled pretty good. Entering the cafeteria, all eyes were on her and the calm façade she had on before washed over her expression.

Her footsteps were silent as she made her way over to an empty table. Fingers picked at her food, eyes trained on the broccoli when a tray materialized in front of her.

"Daughter of a victor." Figures how they greet her. Lælia raised her head as she regarded the large blond boy across. Cato Magnus. It wasn't hard to figure out who he was; he was the District's pride and joy. "I'm sure you had extra training before here, right?"

"I guess you could say that," she answered as a wry smile tugged at the corner of her lips. Confusion was written all over his face. Cato wasn't used to vague answers, she figured.

"So. What can you do?" Cato pressed on, attempting to learn more about her. More specifically, more about her abilities.

She shrugged. "This and that." Cato's brows furrowed and Lælia chuckled. "You'll see." And with that, she gathered her tray and retreated to her room.

-- | --

A/N: So I figured Cato deserved a chance to explain himself and such. Katniss and her awesomely moody ways doesn't exactly spare time to actually figure out Cato other than classifying him as another Career. Oh and Lyme is an actual victor but it isn't specified which year except for the fact that it was around the same time as Haymitch's year. A little bit of a hint as to where I'm taking Lælia's character: Lyme becomes a commander in District 13 in Mockingjay