Chapter Text
The citizens of the Capitol were in for quite the pleasant surprise when the second day of training was shockingly canceled. Details weren't released to the public, but a rumor about a tribute who used the weapons in the Training Center to take themselves out of the Games permanently spiraled around Capitol gossip.
The announcement sent over on Capitol Television specifically said, stated in an interview by Finneus Flickerman, that "due to unfortunate circ*mstances, the Games will be pushed forward a day! What will the schedule look like, you may ask?" He winked at the camera. "I'll tell you!" *flipping out a calendar for dramatic effect* "This afternoon, individual assessments will take place, replacing what was supposed to be the second day of training. After individual assessments, we'll be holding our tribute interviews!"
"And this is historical, correct?" the cameraman probed, zooming in on Finneus.
The combined head Gamemaker and host grinned, showing off his diamond encrusted teeth. "Yes, of course! Never have we held assessments and interviews on the same day!" Finneus leaned forward. "We'll have to ask some of our tributes how they feel about this tonight. And, of course, we'll start the 89th annual Hunger Games tomorrow! Don't forget to tune in!" He added to the viewers.
The second the cameras finished rolling, Finneus wiped his brow with a handkerchief and sighed. "Was that inconspicuous enough?"
The cameraman nodded, setting down his equipment and signaling something to one of the people working in the video booth. "Didn't seem too suspicious. Won't the citizens notice when a tribute is missing tonight at the interviews? And during the assessment scoring?"
Finneus shrugged. "We'll just pretend the tribute was... sick. Too sick, perhaps, to take part in such things." He smiled, but it wasn't a very confident smile.
Capitol citizens went crazy at the announcement. Conspiracy theories immediately popped up, mixed with the excitement of such a historic moment.
"It's simply amazing!" One woman said to a cameraman filming at Capitol Square, where many people had gathered to watch the live feed of the individual assessments. "I don't know what led to this hurry, but I'm glad! All the excitement, all the sooner!"
ANNABETH'S POV
Gods, Annabeth wanted to die.
Sure, she was a Career, sure she'd learned how to fight with a trident and a dagger back in 4, but waking up at 5am with the news that their second day of training had been canceled, the Games had been moved forward to TOMORROW, and she had to worry about assessments and interviews on a day that was supposed to simply be another easy training day? She was not pleased.
And, neither Triton nor Amphitrite would tell them why. Something about "an accident in the Training Room", but Annabeth couldn't think what would've led to this.
"Why can't you just tell me what happened?" She pestered Amphitrite as she sat with her mentor in the kitchen, downing cereal and toast.
Amphitrite shook her head. "We can't... I can't give you any ideas."
That statement alone gave Annabeth a few vague ideas of what might've happened, but she didn't try to pry any further. She could tell her mentor was just as stressed as she was (not that Amphitrite had any reason to be stressed; she wasn't about to enter the Hunger Games two days early).
She scraped the rest of her cereal into the trash can; she felt wasteful, but she also felt nauseous, and thought she might puke up her entire breakfast from nervousness if she tried to eat another bite. As she was about to head to her room to get ready, she heard loud arguing coming from the other side of the penthouse. She glanced at Amphitrite, puzzled.
She hadn't heard Ethan yelling before, or Triton. Neither of them seemed like that type of person, necessarily, and all it did was make her stomach hurt even more, like someone was pressing a twenty pound dumbbell to her abdomen.
Amphitrite pursed her lips, staring blankly at the opposite wall. "Tensions are high," she said simply.
AMPHITRITE'S POV
And tensions certainly were high.
Of course she knew what had happened; a tribute, the girl from 10, must've been hopeless with the looming prospect of the Games. Whatever the cause, Amphitrite had recieved a call stating the change in the schedule at four that morning. Though she wasn't sure why they needed to change the schedule that drastically just because they'd lost one tribute, there was nothing she could do.
She understood why they didn't want more training; who could trust tributes with weapons? They needed some to put into the Games, and if any more got any ideas...
She wished Annabeth would stop pestering her, though. The Capitol was always listening... a phrase she repeated in her head over and over again, countless times per day. Annabeth didn't understand that, and Amphitrite didn't have a way to let that on to her. Even her hint... 'don't get any ideas'- gods, what if that gave Annabeth ideas? What if the Capitol took it the wrong way and sent someone after her?
Amphitrite gripped her coffee mug harder and tried to block out the sounds of Triton and Ethan arguing. She couldn't figure out what they were yelling about, but it felt like it was crowding her brain. Too much noise, too much going on.
She wished she'd never been reaped all those years ago.
All she could do, every year, was prepare herself mentally to lose another two tributes. Gods, what a depressing life.
"And here I am, wallowing in my own self-pity," she said out loud, half to herself. half just to the universe in general.
She leaned forward over her coffee and pinched the bridge of her nose, screwing her eyes shut and imagining herself anywhere else. A beach, perhaps, maybe even the beach in District 4.
A door slammed and she jolted up to her normal sitting position, watching as Triton stormed across the living room and plopped down next to her on another stool.
"Gods, you'd think it was my fault the Games got pushed forward. Like I could do anything about it!" He ranted, waving his hands around frantically and nearly threatening to tip over Amphitrite's coffee cup. She hastily pulled it away.
"Honestly, I tried my best! I tried to explain without giving anything away! But even I don't exactly understand why the death of one tribute means they have to push the Games forward two days!" Triton leaned his head on his hands and rocked back and forth. "I told that brat I did my best to change it, but he's not taking sh*t as an answer unless it's the truth, and I don't know what I'm supposed to say anymore. He thinks it's my godsdamn fault, at least, he sure acts like it."
Amphitrite merely listened as he talked faster than she would've thought possible, his knuckles turning white from how hard he was clenching his fists.
When he finally stopped to take a breath, she cautiously put a hand on his arm. "They're just kids, Triton," she said gently. Sure, she was annoyed with Annabeth's persistence, but she understood. "I think the Capitol just wants to punish the Districts more by sending the tributes in unprepared. Now they have an excuse to, and they took it."
"But that's not my fault!" Triton exclaimed, pounding the marble countertop with his fists and glaring daggers at the door to Ethan's room. "What does he think I could do about it?"
Amphitrite shrugged. "He's probably stressed, Triton, and overwhelmed, just. Like. You. Just like me. Just like Annabeth." She chuckled softly. "And you and I don't have nearly as much reason to be stressed as them." She stared thoughtfully down into her cup. "Do you ever wish you hadn't won your games?" she finally said, unwilling to make eye contact with him.
It was silent for a second, then Triton responded, "all the time."
Amphitrite could feel the tears welling up in her eyes, and she willed herself not to cry. "All the tributes we've trained to their deaths..."
Triton shifted beside her. "Amphi," he said, and she snorted. It was about the stupidest nickname he could've come up with, though one time he'd called her Amphibian and made her spit out her wine at the dinner party they were attending. "We can't spend all our time thinking about that."
"But I do," she answered, staring at the table.
Triton sighed. "If you keep doing that, it'll overcome you. Focus on the tributes we have right now. Focus on the chance they have."
Amphitrite glanced at him slyly. "You know, you have to do the same thing. Focusing on the tributes, not ourselves?"
Triton looked down, a smile playing at his lips. "Good advice from a wise person," he mumbled.
Amphitrite leaned over and rested her head on his shoulder, staring out the window overlooking the city. "Gods, what choices did we make to get us here?"
THE CAPITOL
That year, the Games introduced a new concept entirely; livestreaming the individual assessments. In previous years, perhaps to keep tribute nerves down, the assessments themselves had never been shown, merely the scores they recieved, placing them on a scale of most to least dangerous with no idea what the dangerous ones excelled the most at.
That all changed for the 89th Games. Now, tributes could see what each of their competitors was best at and plan accordingly for the Arena. And, the amount of nervousness likely went up in the tributes themselves, given that if they messed up, their mistakes were being broadcasted to the entirety of Panem.
At noon, the showing went live, to the Capitol and the Districts alike.
Finneus Flickerman, blue hair bedazzled with pink sparkles, eyeshadow done in a ridiculous neon green, beamed into the camera. "Welcome to the individual assessments for the 89th Hunger Games!" He exclaimed. Behind and slightly below him was the training center, looking quite clean and pristine, decked out with extra stocks of weapons for the assessments.
They started strong as usual, with a good show of swordsmanship from the girl in District 1. After she'd sliced the heads clean off of all the automated dummies, they had to take a pause on the stream so the trainers could set up more dummies for the rest of the tributes. The boy from 1 also put on a good show, this time with a spear.
From District 2, the girl, Reyna, used a spear as well, nearly matching the performance of the boy from 1 but using better technique, something Finneus didn't refrain from sharing with the Capitol audience. The boy from 2 chose a more specific Roman weapon, a pilum, and sliced through all the dummies before beating a trainer in combat. The Careers were certainly looking strong so far, and Finneus stated that he wouldn't be surprised if it was another "Career Year".
District 3 put on less of a show; the little girl, looking terrified, threw some knives, but missed the target more than half of her shots and ultimately left crestfallen. The boy did quite good though, building a trap using rope and the pieces of one of the weapon racks. "A handy young man," Finneus stated.
Annabeth Chase from District 4 absolutely destroyed the trainer, defeating her in hand to hand combat with a knife four times in fifteen minutes. The boy, Ethan Nakamura, seemed angry as he walked in, but he put on a show, also using a knife, and ultimately Finneus stated that District 4 was the strongest so far.
The girl from District 5 used a spear, hitting the target on most of her shots, missing only one. She seemed disappointed at her failure, but Finneus commented on how good her form was. The boy didn't do so good, merely shooting several arrows at a target, most of which missed.
District 6 was comprised of killers, that much was obvious. Luke Castellan, a tall, buff boy of 18, crushed the competition (his trainer) with a sword, and seemed to have a hard time holding back from slitting the trainers throat. Lavinia Asimov, a thirteen year old powerhouse, chose a crossbow and shot down each target within twenty seconds.
The girl and boy from District 7 both chose archery and both did okay. Average performances, according to Finneus. District 8 went much the same, but with knives, and the girl from District 9 surprised the Gamemakers by using two scimitars to slice up the dummies. The boy from 9 also surprised them, showing great skills with a sword.
When District 10 rolled around, much of the Capitol was surprised when they skipped over the girl. However, Finneus assured them that she was merely ill and wouldn't be attending the interviews either. The boy seemed extremely distracted and, though seeming to be a quite skilled archer, missed the target with two of his eight shots.
The girl from 11 showed her skills in fighting with an axe, as did the boy. Both did quite well, according to Finneus Flickerman. District 12 flopped a little bit; the girl was so nervous that, while she managed to hit the target with the throwing knives most of the times, she seemed to have a breakdown in the middle of her assessment and left the room early. The boy did slightly better, but not much.
Overall, Finneus seemed relatively unimpressed, but he attempted to cover it up by talking on and on about how the interviews were being held that night and everything the viewers had to look forward to.
RACHEL'S POV
Rachel and Will rode the elevator up to their penthouse in silence, aside from the tapping of Will's foot.
Rachel watched the number change above the panel of buttons, imagining what score she might get. She wasn't sure whether or not to hope for something high; the higher she scored, the more of a target she became, but the lower she scored, the less likely she was to recieve sponsors.
"How do you think you did?" Will asked, breaking the silence.
Rachel fidgeted with the metal bracelet she was wearing; her token, the one thing she could take into the Arena. "I don't know. Maybe like... a six?"
Will nodded, looking back at the door awkwardly.
Rachel tilted her head. "Whay about you?" It was the tensest conversation they'd had. Both were nervous, that much was obvious.
"I have no clue," he admitted. "I don't know if it was bad or average or good, I have no idea, and I'm terrified to find out."
The doors opened, and they were greeted by Mars and Ceres. The latter congratulated them and told them they'd look good in their assessments, but Mars frowned and folded his arms. "It was mediocre, at best," he said, staring them down. "Let's just hope those Gamemakers are blind."
"They'll be showing the scores in ten minutes," Ceres said, letting Will and Rachel walk further into the apartment. "Then we'll know for sure. After that, you'll need to get ready for the interviews. Got it?"
Rachel nodded, though she felt five seconds from passing out. Talking onstage, in front of so many people, trying to be charismatic even though the Games were tomorrow?
She took a deep breath. No, she wasn't going to spend her last day sad. 'Enjoy it', she reminded herself.
So when they began streaming replays of the assessments and scoring them, she tried to pretend she was just another Capitol citizen, watching for fun, not needing to take anything away from it, purely viewing for entertainment.
INDIVIDUAL ASSESSMENT SCORES
1. Jason (9) Clarisse (10)2. Bryce (10) Reyna (11)3. Harley (7) Georgina (4)4. Ethan (10) Annabeth (10)5. Octavian (5) Thalia (8)6. Luke (10) Lavinia (9)7. Will (6) Rachel (7)8. Travis (7) Silena (7)9. Lityerses (10) Meg (8)10. Frank (7)11. Dakota (9) Katie (8)12. Nico (6) Hazel (5)
