Post by Seryna on Jan 19, 2012 1:11:00 GMT -5
After the first day of training, all of the tributes were advised to meet with their mentors over dinner for a strategy session.Buckley and Lyric went up to the dining room where a full dinner was laid out before them. The center of the table had several chickens, a turret of lamb stew and a rack of ribs. Several plates of rolls, roasted potatoes and steamed asparagus ringed them.
Only three chairs were set; the absence of the frivolous stylist team was an obvious choice.
The district mentors - for district 6 boasted two - stared over at Buckley and Lyric as they entered the room. Lyric, a willowy blonde standing at about 5'8''; took a seat and helped herself to a scoop of potatoes.
"Greedy," Lyre, the female victor; noted to Mel; the male victor as he took a bite of chicken.
"- self assured." Mel countered; chewing noisily. The heads turned as one to study Buckley.
Lyre; the victor three years ago when she was fourteen, looked virtually unchanged. Her black hair was straw straight and fell down to her evergreen tunic. She had managed to become victor by underplaying her hand at the private session and earning only a score of 4. While other tributes were bashing one another's heads in, she had been feasting on roasted rabbits for six days and setting up a series of snares on her 'trail'. When the final Careers had come for her; most had been strung up by their ankles when she bashed their heads in.
The Game Makers had to struggle to come up with enough footage for her victory segment; she had played boring just that well.
Mel; on the other hand; was victor six years ago. When he had been reaped at 17, he already stood at an impressive 6'0'' and had been apprenticing at his uncle's market; carrying hundred pound bags of goods since he was a boy. He had played ruthless and was a favorite to win; earning gifts of roasted lamb, a warm winter parka and on the last day; a fine two headed axe. He'd put that axe to good use.
"Get eating." Mel barked. "If its an Arctic arena; you'll burn calories just shivering. Whaddya do today?"
Only three chairs were set; the absence of the frivolous stylist team was an obvious choice.
The district mentors - for district 6 boasted two - stared over at Buckley and Lyric as they entered the room. Lyric, a willowy blonde standing at about 5'8''; took a seat and helped herself to a scoop of potatoes.
"Greedy," Lyre, the female victor; noted to Mel; the male victor as he took a bite of chicken.
"- self assured." Mel countered; chewing noisily. The heads turned as one to study Buckley.
Lyre; the victor three years ago when she was fourteen, looked virtually unchanged. Her black hair was straw straight and fell down to her evergreen tunic. She had managed to become victor by underplaying her hand at the private session and earning only a score of 4. While other tributes were bashing one another's heads in, she had been feasting on roasted rabbits for six days and setting up a series of snares on her 'trail'. When the final Careers had come for her; most had been strung up by their ankles when she bashed their heads in.
The Game Makers had to struggle to come up with enough footage for her victory segment; she had played boring just that well.
Mel; on the other hand; was victor six years ago. When he had been reaped at 17, he already stood at an impressive 6'0'' and had been apprenticing at his uncle's market; carrying hundred pound bags of goods since he was a boy. He had played ruthless and was a favorite to win; earning gifts of roasted lamb, a warm winter parka and on the last day; a fine two headed axe. He'd put that axe to good use.
"Get eating." Mel barked. "If its an Arctic arena; you'll burn calories just shivering. Whaddya do today?"