The First Tributes

Training Day 1

It was a surprising lovely night for both tributes, the beds more comfortable still than those on the train. Whether they liked it or not, they slpet well. The usual residents of the Capitol on the other hand, found the beds lacking some from those in their own homes, and didn't sleep nearly as well as they would have liked.

Neither twin could lie though, the showers scared them. Each of them had a shower attached to their rooms, a convinience that they didn't have in District 3. The walls were lined with buttons, each with a different effect on the water. Changing the temperature, speed of water flow, how the water left the showerhead, even scent. It didn't take them long to figure out the controls, having grown up around complex machinery. But the idea of the wall of the shower looking nearly exactly like the main control panel at many of the factories they had seen was intimidating. They hadn't imagined that such a simple thing could be made so complex, and wondered how the other tributes were handling the bizarre plumbing.

From there it was breakfast in their hotel rooms and off to the training area for 10 o'clock. In the basement. The training instructor, a burly man with quick fingers told them what to expect. There were six set-ups all around what could be called a gymnasium, where they would be taken every day to train. None of the tributes were sure where to begin, but Beaufort did.

The enormous man paced back and forth in front of the tributes like a drill sargent. "You are here to learn how to fight. In a weeks time you will be pinned at each others throats, and the instructors you will meet here won't be there to help you. You must use your time here wisely, and finely tune whatever survival skills you have, if any. I and my comerades will teach you these survival skills, which will also include fighting skills in various types of weaponry. I am certain that none of you know how to fight, which is why this has been set up. Now let's get started, even districts, to my left, odd districts to my right."

There was a great shuffling as the even numbered districts moved away from the  odd numbered districts. Once the movement was finished, Beaufort continued his speech.

"Good, now boys, you split from the girls in each case."

Once again people split up, now four different groups. Two of boys and two of girls.

"Good, now you're ready. There are six stations, basic survival, training in long range and close range weapons, how to camouflage yourself effectively, hand-to-hand combat, and what is safe to eat in the wild. You will cycle through all six stations, one a day. The final day will be for your own training, you will choose what skills you wish to improve on the final day."

He nodded to himself, having finished his explaination, and consulted a clipboard he was holding. "Group one," he pointed to the boys from odd districts, "basic survival. Group two," the girls from odd districts, "long range. Group 3," the other boys, "camouflage, Group 4," the final group, "close range." No one moved, filling the air with an uneasy tension. Beaufort watched them, waiting for them to start moving. "What are you waiting for? Go on!"

The groups jumped slightly and moved out, each heading for their station. As they moved towards the station, a large group of people in purple robes filed in on a balcony, accompanied by platters and trollies of food. Rhymer couldn't help but notice them, and while much of the other tributes took notice as well, Rhymer was the only one to question the reasoning for their attendance.

"Welcome to your basic survival sklls training," said a petit woman with a waist-length braid at the first station, crashing Rhymers train of thought. "My name is Deirdre. Let's begin shall we?"

The boys nodded, watching intently, though anxiously. One of them was quite small when compared to the others, he couldn't have been more than 12. He scurried to the front, sending an uneasy ripple through the others. He was too little to be in this contest. Far too young.