A/N: Quicker update this time, finally! :) Mostly because I'm going on vacation now, so I'll be gone for two weeks. After that, school will be starting, and I hope the return of some sort of routine will help me keep up with my updates. :P

Anyway, so there's a new poll on my profile, for who you think will die in the bloodbath. I already have the deaths picked, and I'll give you a hint - there's five. So go on and take a guess, and hopefully the tributes I've got chosen are somewhat reasonable! On another note, training scores are coming up next!

Question of the Chapter: Now that all alliances have been formed, which one is your favorite? Least favorite?

~Ashes

Training

Part III

"For some bigger cause, they say

is my happiness in the way?"

Adrian "Adri" Byes, District Ten

Adri hadn't expected to be in an alliance with her much older - and not to mention moody - district partner. Based on what she'd gathered from the train rides, the guy wanted nothing more than to be alone.

But Adri was thankful. There was nothing she wanted less than to be alone, to have to face the Games all on her own. Adri was confident in her abilities, but she also knew her weaknesses well, weaknesses that Blain had never failed to point out back at home.

Yes, Adri was strong, Adri was fast, Adri was smart. Well, smart enough. But she was also reckless and impulsive and not mindful enough of the details. And if she wanted to survive the Games, she was going to need someone who was going to make up for her weaknesses. Never mind the fact that Colt would have to die in order for her to get home. She'd cross that bridge when she got to it.

"I think she's coming," Colt whispered to her, his eyes flickering up from the screen where he was identifying plants.

Adri shot a brief glance up, just long enough to see the girl from Eleven, Aima, trekking determinedly towards them, her face set in a mask of decisiveness.

"She's going to ask us for an alliance, I know it," Adri said matter-of-factly. Aima had been watching them ever since training began, following them from station to station like a shadow. For what it was worth, Adri would have liked to walk up to her and ask her intentions outright, but Aima was significantly older than her. Aima wasn't as broad or muscular as the other tributes, but Adri had seen enough of lean, strong people back in Ten that she knew muscles weren't the only things that determined strength. And Aima did have strength, strength she hid well - probably from the Careers, and with good reason.

Colt shrugged. "Would it really be a good idea to add an outsider to our alliance? I saw the pair from Eight and the Six boy refuse her yesterday. There's got to be a reason for that."

They didn't have time to speculate further, because Aima was now standing just beside them. Adri swiveled in her chair so she faced the older girl, and she couldn't stop herself from briefly giving Aima an once-over.

The girl was lean and strong in hidden ways, and something in the crook of her neck and the hardness of her gaze made Adri think that she'd be a tough competitor, when it came down to it. Her arms were crossed, a little defensively, but when she spoke, she was friendly enough.

"Hi guys. How's the plant identifying going?"

"Oh, you know," Adri said, "just trying to learn a few things so we won't eat a bunch of nightlock and die when we're in the arena."

Aima's mouth quirked up a little, in a hint of a smile. "Well, is it okay if I join you guys?"

The double meaning was clear. Is it okay if I join your alliance?

Adri's eyes flickered automatically to Colt, but Colt's eyes were dropped to his screen. It was obvious from his posture, the hard line of his back, that he didn't think it was a particularly good idea to add Aima to the alliance, but Adri thought otherwise. A two-person alliance was dangerous, because that meant the two of them had to rely on each other too much. A third person would balance things out perfectly, and to be honest, Adri had considered asking Aima to be their ally, anyway.

"Why not?" Adri decided finally. "You might as well avoid death by nightlock as well."

Now Aima did smile, and she sat down in the stool next to them, visible relief in her face. Adri understood her previous tension well - it was the last day of training, after all, and Adri couldn't imagine anyone who'd want to go into the Games alone.

"I'm Aima."

"We know." Adri grinned. "I'm Adri, and this is Colt."

"Nice to meet you," Colt said, somewhat hesitantly. Adri could see the worry and suspicion swimming in Colt's eyes, but he'd get over it. He'd looked the same when she'd first sat down by him, too.

"Welcome to the team." Adri felt herself relaxing already, settling into the familiar patterns of teamwork. On bad days, when it was just her and Blain, it was one person to scale the tree - usually Adri - and the other to wait down below to watch out for the farmer, and to catch the apples.

But this wasn't a bad day anymore. This was a good day. One person to distract the farmer. One person to scale the tree. One person to catch the apples.

And on good days, Adri never had trouble returning home.

Lynette "Nick" Nicklin, District Twelve

Nick hated coyotes.

She was trying her hand at learning a few new, more complex traps at the trap-laying station, while occasionally sneaking a peek at the weapons station right beside her, where the little girl from Six was learning, under the gentle hand of the Nine girl, to shoot an arrow. Not that the Nine girl knew how to do it - but she'd at least had some success at hitting the target, after much assistance from the trainer.

Now, Nick wasn't quite sure what got her to thinking about coyotes, but whenever her hands were busy building a trap, her mind wandered inevitably to the damned coyotes. Every day, she lost at least one catch to them, and the sight had become familiar - rabbit bones, a half-eaten deer, the pitiful leftovers of a squirrel. Of course, it didn't matter to the little critters she caught, because they were dead anyway, if not at the hands of Nick, then by the jaws of some coyote.

It didn't matter, though. Nick hated coyotes.

And that's what the other tributes were - coyotes. Nick, ironically, was now the helpless little critter, caught in the Capitol's trap.

There was just one difference, though. Nick was going to live. If not for herself, then for Judy.

With a sigh, she abandoned the complex trap she had made, and decided to finally head to the station she'd been avoiding for so long - the first aid station. All throughout the three days, there had been younger tributes there, and Nick hadn't wanted to sit by them, to see their innocent faces and wide eyes. She knew they'd remind her of Judy, as any little kid these days did, and Nick couldn't count on herself to not be upset and angry if she had talked to them, had a conversation with them, and then seen their faces in the sky, which surely would happen.

Luckily, though, there weren't any little kids there now. Just the broad, strong-looking girl from Seven. Cal, Nick remembered. She had heard the girl give her name to the pair from Three on the first training day. As Nick got closer, she heard the girl swearing profusely.

Nick slid onto a stool as far from the girl as possible, frowning. "What's your problem?"

Cal looked up, a little startled at seeing Nick, and then her eyebrows settled heavily over her eyes, giving her a look of immense displeasure. "That's none of your business."

"It is my business when I'm trying to learn some first aid, and you're there swearing like someone's chopped your arm off."

"Well why don't I chop your arm off then?" Cal said, irritated. "Then we can swear together."

Nick snorted. "I think you'd be better off chopping trees, Seven. It's what you do, isn't it?"

Cal raised an eyebrow, and surprise flashed in her eyes. "You're not so easily swayed, are you now, Twelve?"

"Not if I can help it." Nick wrapped a bandage around a dummy's torso. "You see, I'm going home. And I'm most certainly not being swayed from that."

Cal laughed sharply. "Yeah, going home in a coffin."

"At least I didn't volunteer to go home in a coffin."

Nick glanced up, expecting anger to flare across Cal's face at the jab, but instead, all she saw was fierce determination - the same determination she felt herself.

"Trust me," she said coolly. "If you were in my situation, you would've volunteered too. And I'm not going to be going home in a coffin, that's for sure."

Nick looked back down, a brief memory of Cal's reaping flashing through her mind - the relief that had flashed in her eyes for just a brief moment when the girl had taken the stage, like she was glad to be leaving. Nick thought about Cal's strong, broad shoulders, her determination, the same confidence in her skills that Nick had.

She was a survivor, just like Nick was. And there was something about survivors that always led them to each other.

On an impulse, Nick stuck out her hand, the side of her mouth quirking up. "How about we go home together, then?"

Cal looked up at her, shocked for a second, blinking at the hand. Her eyes darted up to Nick's, and she scowled. "You do know only one of us can go home, right?"

Nick shrugged, a hint of a smile on her face. "And if it gets down to the two of us, I'll sure as hell be killing you."

Cal grinned, barking out a laugh. Her eyes twinkled, and she gripped Nick's hand. "Not if I kill you first."

They shook hands just once, and Nick wondered if perhaps she could tolerate coyotes after all.

Rhea Kentwell, District Two

There was something about the Six boy that bothered Rhea.

She couldn't quite put her finger on it, but every part of her body ached with suspicion towards him. It wasn't that he was rude, or took things far too lightly, or too easily hurt, or any of the things Rhea particularly disliked. In fact, if they were anywhere other than the Hunger Games, then she might even have had a grudging respect for him.

But as it stood, she couldn't stand him. Well, the truth was, he was too much like her. She could see it in his eyes, in the coldness, the dedication, the determination to go home. He would probably kill every tribute in the arena without a moment's hesitation if he could. The guy wasn't too skilled with weapons, but Rhea wasn't sure how much of what she saw was his true skills, and how much was just a front to not draw too much attention to himself.

Rhea was suspicious of him, that was true. If he decided any of the Careers were too big a threat, she had no doubt that he wouldn't hesitate to slaughter them as they slept.

At the same time, though, she was glad he was in their alliance. That way, she had him close, and she would make sure to kill him the first chance she got.

"Why do you keep looking at Kyren like that?"

Rhea started, then whirled around, automatically drawing the sword that was hanging at her side. Shade blocked the slash with his own sword, the clash of the metal echoing off the walls.

Shade chuckled. "We're not in the Games yet, Rhea."

She scowled at Shade, and withdrew her sword. "I was just wondering what brought him to ally with us."

Shade shrugged. "Why do you think? We're the Careers."

Rhea shook her head. "Not everyone wants to ally with the Careers. Take them, for example." she nodded towards the little girl from Six, and the girl from Nine, whom Rhea recalled being named Ashlea. They were at the fire-building station, Ashlea gently guiding the little girl, helping her strike pieces of flint together. "I bet that they wouldn't ally with us even if their life depended on it."

Shade smirked. "Well, I don't know about that. Some of these tributes will do anything to get out alive."

"And some would rather die than stoop down so low as to join the Careers," Rhea retorted. Her eyes flickered around the room, picking out a select few. The pair from Three - if not the girl, then the boy for sure. The girl from Eight. The boy from Eight, too.

Yes, there were quite a few, if you took the time to look.

"As if," Shade said, rolling his eyes. "I bet they'd all fall over themselves if we gave them an alliance offer."

Rhea shook her head, but didn't argue any further. Shade would never believe her, anyway - he was far too sure of their superiority, sitting on his pedestal like all Careers, completely unaware of all that happened beneath it. Rhea sat on a pedestal too, she knew. At least she knew to look down, though.

"Shade," Curvier whined from Rhea's side, "how are you so good with swords? I can't seem to get it, no matter how hard I try."

"I can help you," Cetus said immediately, already reaching for a sword, his face eager.

"Thanks, sweetheart, but I know you're no good with a sword, either." Curvier giggled. "Cetus, hon, we're both trident folk, whether you like it or not."

Cetus' eyebrows pulled together, but Curvier wasn't paying attention.

"Please, Shade?" Curvier flashed a winning smile, all dimples and sparkling eyes, the same smile that had lured countless boys into her arms. "Pretty please?"

"Alright." Shade stepped around Rhea, swinging his sword in his hand casually. "I'll help a fellow Career out."

"Thanks so much," Curvier said sweetly. Rhea wasn't fooled - girls had a way of catching on to the plots and schemes of their fellow gender. She didn't miss the triumphant edge of Curvier's voice, hidden behind her gratitude, the intelligence and spinning gears clicking together behind her dark eyes.

She also didn't miss the dark expression that flashed across Cetus' face, the possessive edge in his eyes, the way he hovered around Curvier. And Rhea knew the girl was well aware of it. If Curvier had it her way, Rhea was sure, she'd soon have Shade wrapped around her little finger as well.

"Like this," Shade was saying. "You're clutching it too tightly, that's why. A sword isn't as heavy or long as a trident, so there's no need to grip it so hard."

"Ooh," Curvier mused, as if Shade was suddenly shedding light on an impossibly dark matter.

Shade held his sword out in front of him, demonstrating, and Curvier poked his bicep. "Wow, Shade! You've got a lot of muscle."

"Well, what can I say?" Shade grinned, clearly pleased. "I train pretty hard."

Curvier giggled. "It sure looks like it! I wish all the guys had muscles like yours, Shade." Rhea didn't miss the fluttering of her lashes, and the casual way she ran her hand up his arm.

By the looks of it, it wouldn't be long before Shade was reeled in just as tightly as Cetus was, and then both the boys of the Career pack - Bliss didn't really count - would be at Curvier's feet.

Rhea had to grudgingly give Curvier props for that, but her disgust was far stronger than her respect. She couldn't stand girls who used their beauty and feminine edge to get the upper hand in things. The Games should be about skill, not flirting.

Although, Rhea knew, sometimes, soft fluttering lashes and teasing words cut far deeper than even the sharpest weapons.

Rhea returned to slashing the practice dummy to pieces, plans already forming in her mind.

It looked like there were quite a few people she needed to get rid of.

Leif Spires, District Seven

Leif hadn't felt guilty for a very long time.

In fact, he hadn't even felt guilty after murder, and if ending the lives of others didn't make at least a little remorse worm its way into your heart, then what would?

Apparently, the answer was this eccentric, fiery-haired girl.

"Three! I got three!" Nat called out enthusiastically, jumping down from the platform where she had been fighting simulation-tributes. From the platform next to hers, Nile impaled a holographic tribute through the chest, and she exploded into a mass of shimmering yellow particles.

"Four," Nile said, straightening up momentarily before the next opponent appeared. "I just beat you, Nat, and I'm still going."

Nat stuck her tongue out at him in an oddly childlike gesture, and bounded over to where Leif was standing, watching the two of them, the sword in his hand dangling at his side. There were only two empty platforms when they had gotten to the combat simulation station, and Leif had offered to sit out. The other other platform was taken up by the boy from Five - Sho, if Leif recalled correctly. He was surprisingly good, and Leif found himself filing him away to be remembered for later.

Along with the rest of the people Leif would be sure to kill at the first opportunity.

"Did you see that, Leif?" Nat grinned up at him. "Three! And I took down two of them at the same time! I can't believe I'm actually getting good at this. Thanks so much for all your help, Leif!"

"No problem," Leif said smoothly, his lopsided grin appearing on instinct. Normally, he would've said something charming and witty regarding how beautiful Nat was or some crap like that, but he couldn't bring himself to. Nat's gaze was so frank and sincere that he didn't want to dump any of his smooth, buttery words on her, words that shimmered like gold but were dull and dirty upon closer inspection.

Leif had no problem dealing with harsh words, with suspicion and mistrust and sidelong gazes - the kind that Nile was always giving him. It was this uncalled for trust that bothered him the most, how Nat had seemingly integrated him into their alliance without question.

He wondered what she'd think if she knew that the sword at his side was stained with blood, the blood that Leif had spilled without a second's hesitation. Oh, if she knew that these were the skills she was learning, the skills of a boy who had trained himself half-dead with the intent of revenge.

"I got five," Nile said, materializing beside Nat. Leif didn't miss the way his eyes darted to Leif, wary and suspicious, as he had the right to be. Nile had a way of making sure he was always there when Nat was with Leif. Leif was well aware of the protective way Nile stood beside Nat, and even Leif had to admit that he felt a certain need to keep Nat safe - she was bright and vivacious, all too trusting and all too optimistic, almost like a child.

"Do you want to go now, Leif?" Nat asked.

"Nah," Leif said, running a hand through his hair. He cast a glance at Sho, surrounded by shards of yellow from an exploding hologram. "I think we should go to another station."

"Are you sure you don't want to go?" Nile questioned as well, raising an eyebrow.

"I think we should go to the survival station." Leif steered the conversation away from Nile's question. "We should really learn how to find water and food and stuff like that. I don't know about the two of you, but the only forest I've seen in my life is the one that I passed on the train. If you dropped me in a forest, I'd probably be dead in less than five minutes."

"Same," Nat admitted sheepishly. "All I know about finding water is that in the forest, you're probably not going to find any sinks."

"Well, let's go then," Nile said. "It would do all of us some good."

Nile and Nat started forward, and Leif watched them go, hanging back a bit as be watched Sho get "stabbed" in the throat by a holographic tribute. The machine whirred, then shut down, displaying the number of tributes he had killed: four.

"What if the arena's not a forest?"

Leif blinked, mildly surprised as the Sho turned to him, panting a little, one eyebrow raised.

"Excuse me?"

"Why don't you get up there and kill a few holograms?" he smirked. "I bet you could take quite a few. It's pretty obvious you're hiding your skills."

Leif ignored his jibe. "You know what I'm going to do if the arena's not a forest? I'm going to make sure I slaughter all the eavesdroppers first."

Sho chuckled. "You don't fool me, pretty boy. And I know I wouldn't want you in my alliance."

"It doesn't look like anyone wants you in their alliance, either," Leif said coldly.

Sho seemed amused. "That's my choice. I prefer to stick it out alone. Wouldn't want to drag anyone down with me."

"You'll be dead the second the cannon goes off."

Sho shrugged. "Alliances aren't the only way to victory. Besides, I'm not the only loner in these Games, but I don't think you've noticed."

"I know the Twelve boy is alone," Leif responded hotly. The Twelve boy had made pitiful attempts at conversation throughout the three days, his voice as timid as a mouse's. His eyes were always dreamy, his head in the clouds. If he wasn't a bloodbath death, then Leif wasn't sure who was.

"What about the Eleven boy?"

Leif wanted to snap, of course, but the words died on his lips. The Eleven boy? Leif couldn't even quite recall what the guy looked like.

"You'll be sorry you're alone when you're lying dead," Leif snapped instead.

"Not if I had an ally like you," Sho said nonchalantly, pressing the button for a new round, and speaking half to himself. "Poor tributes from Eight, huh? You'll probably kill them in their sleep."

Leif turned away from him, eyes burning with cold anger. His anger melted and evaporated when he spotted Nile, turning hurriedly away. Nat was already at the survival station, but Nile had hung back.

Leif took larger strides to catch up, and fell into step beside Nile, as if he didn't know the boy had heard the whole conversation.

Okay, so here's the alliances more clearly laid out, in case anyone missed a few:

Careers (Shade, Rhea, Evan, Bliss, Curvier, Cetus, Kyren)

Misa/Flux

Cal/Nick

Leif/Nat/Nile

Adri/Colt/Aima

Emory/Atere

Romie/Lea

Sho

Arion

Ace