Flooding Panem: The Hunger Games

Chapter Seven: Trapping

The next day, I stick to the basic survival skills. I revisit the fire making station for a bit before heading off to the edible plants and animals stations and so on and so forth. I run into the female tributes from Five and Twelve a couple of times. At lunch, I learn the name of the former- Austea. Apparently she spends a lot of time climbing the pylons. That explains the callouses.

"She's a bit of a brat apparently. The mayor's a stickler for rules but he doesn't care when people close to him break them. Typical politician." She shoves her food into her mouth. I raise my own glass to my lips, focusing on the water line. This girl is impressing me more every minute. She's sociable, strong, smart. She picks up information easily. She might actually have a chance, despite her origins.

"But I was reading last night," I start. It's been bothering me since I found out. "The mayor- he's not married. Not divorced either."

Rosalina pauses, putting down her fork slowly. I really don't see the point of her hesitation. I'll be dead in a couple of weeks, so I can't tell any secrets to anyone aside from Marvel and our mentors, and chances are that the latter already know. She glances to the side quickly before leaning in. "Apparently, he's not the most faithful man. Had a couple girlfriends in the past, and never stuck with any of them for very long. His main game is prostitution."

This doesn't surprise me as much as it should. The few Capitol men I've seen so far have been slimy to say the least, and if the mayor's a 'typical politician', then he won't be any different. "But why would he raise a prostitute's kid then? I mean, it's not like he has to."

Rosalina opens her mouth to speak, but I hear a loud cough a few metres to my right. Marvel's staring pointedly at me, and once we've made eye contact, he breaks it to look behind me. Not quite wanting to look, I turn subtly to face whatever I should be wary of and I see Rosalina doing the same. Standing by the entrance are two Gamemakers muttering and staring at us. When they see me looking they turn away, but I'm still left with a sick feeling in my stomach. They don't have to kill me quickly if they don't want to, and I don't have the ability to make a pact with them.

We eat the rest of our meal in silence before heading off to separate stations; she goes to practice with a slingshot while I end up at the camouflage station. A few moments later, the District 5 female- Austea- saunters over and picks up a paintbrush, knocking over the pot onto my hands. I brush them off, not meeting her gaze even though I can feel her smirking at me. I continue to dip my fingers into the mud and berry juice, while she goes for the more quality paints. The trainer has apparently realised the neither of us need help, so he wanders off to talk to someone else.

We stay in silence for a few minutes, her painting her hands and nails with beautiful patterns and colours, me painting moss boulders onto my arms. She's acting as badly as the Careers; too full of herself to bother with the rest of us. Eventually, I can't help myself. I grab the wipes and clean off my arm before asking her, "Have you trained, or something?"

Austea looks at me with a glint in her eye. "Why would I train? I'm too good to bother with that."

Ok, apparently it's time for full on bitch mode. "So you're... too perfect for practice? I hate to break it to you, but even the Careers train before the Games. That's kinda why they tend to win."

She casts me an easy smile. "Oh, it's not that I'm too perfect, no. It's that I'm too important to lose." She sweeps her eyes over the room. "See, no one cares about you. Or them. It's a fact. You die, and you're just another tribute. I die, and a whole load of bullshit goes down." She tucks a loose ringlet behind her ear with the end of her paintbrush and carries on with her artwork. I look at her in complete exasperation before walking off to the archery station.