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Rain’s books were soac’d but he was finished reading anyhow and was in the know.  He kicked away the soggy paper clusters and maintained his status as emperor of the blankets as he carried them on his back. Â
A second sponsor gift fell for Rain, making him confused at the jar of arachnids, but it seemed as though someone was looking out for him on the inside, or that A.V.R.I.L.’s algorithm had predicted an insect-centered hazard correctly as a swarm of locusts tried to approach and get all up in Rain’s business.Â
He ran around for a bit with the blankets shielding himself from the swarm, not even aware if these bugs bit or stung.  Either way, it was the perfect prey for his new gift.  Unscrewing the jar, Rain exposed an entrance to the web-infested container, using the damp blankets like whips to knock into the flying bugs.  With their light and dusted wings wet and weighed down, the locusts flopped slowly to the ground, being funneled into the jar of spiders with Rain’s blankets.  The surviving locuts mourned the loss off their consumed and emacieated bretheren, fluttering away in fear of the boy and his pet spiders now feeding on the hazard. Â
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With the snap of the book closed, Rain had skimmed the ending of the Frankenstein novel, having a brief glimpse into what lied beneath the shoddy mill.  He tied his books and sack over his shoulder and peered over the edge of the basement, hearing the beast starting to get up again.  There was no way Rain could tame him, but that didn’t mean he would be completely useless. Â
With a few sharp raps of his sword against the concrete steps, Rain gathered the monster’s attention, watching it trudge up the steps.  Slowly, it rose, following Rain’s guide away from the broken floors and out onto the dried field.  The sluggish steps were intimidating but still distant as Rain lead the monster out towards the forest, just south of path 1. Â
He walked briefly into the forest, darting from tree to tree, letting the monster trudge off after him. Â Rain, light on his feet, then bolted off towards the north east direction before darting sharp behind a tree. Â He held his breath as the monster trudged off in that direction, aimlessly heading away from him and towards the rest of the arena. Â Satisfied and with a smirk, Rain turned back towards the edge of the dried field to collect his thoughts. Â
There’s a small cove of water near one of the basement walls (probably the one you fell in earlier) There are some planks of wood scattered about, as well as several blankets and a few books. Frankenstein’s creature is beginning to get back to its feet, though it is moving with more of a limp and at a slower pace.Â
Reading is fundamental.  Rain didn’t know if there was anything important in the books but at least he could paper cut a bitch.  Using the nearby blanket as a napsack, he shoved the books in and wrapped it over his shoulder before scurrying back up the stairs.  There wasn’t any point in killing the monster yet, especially if he could manage to shove a tribute down to meet him as well. Â
Out of sight from the monster and out of the basement, Rain unfurled the blanket sack and took a look at the books collected. Â
Seeing the stitches on his face made Rain cringe, flashing an image of his own scar on his lower back in his head.  Though he was sure his mother would see the two of them as similar monsters, there probably wasn’t much he could do to convince the thing to not attack him. Â
Rain ducked under a swing of the monster’s arm, flinching as rubble burst out where he smacked his fist against the cement wall.  Rain continued his travel up the stairs with the monster trailing him.  Though he wasn’t trained, he was still confident of his common sense as he leapt over the broken planks of wood.  Though he was expecting a tribute to fall down the sabotaged flooring, Rain wasn’t going to shrug off the good fortune of his timing as the monster chased him right into the broken panels.  The beast gave a guttural moan as it clung to the edge of the hole before falling in with a heavy thud.  With the floors now decorated with a lovely gaping maw in the center, the grey sunlight pooled in, illuminating the basement partially. Â
Rain cut a new entrance into the mill with his sword and stepped carefully back down the stairs while the monster was still recovering, using the brief window of time to take a look at the surroundings of what lied in the basement. Â
At this point you’re engulfed in total darkness. You hear a faint dripping sound and a a shuffle behind you causes you to freeze, that is until you are forcibly shoved forward by an unknown assailant into a small pool of water.Â
Rain emerged from the puddle clutching his sword.  He knew he wasn’t alone, but still refused to swing at the assailant without seeing it first.  He clamored around, retracing his steps, hearing foreign ones behind him.  He started climbing the stairs, his attention darting from the missing steps to the bottom of the steps, back-tracking until he could see the pursuer step into the dim light shining in through the dillapidated panels of wood. Â
He might not have had access to a TV for a while, but before his life went to shit, Rain had watched enough cartoons to know where this was leading. But before he proceeded, he jabbed a few holes in the barely-stable wood flooring right by the entrance, hoping if someone tried to follow him they’d have the floor collapse under them. Â
 Expecting the stairs to shift and turn into a slide, Rain closed his eyes and held his sword outward as he braced himself down the steps. Â
You take one step, two, three, nothing seems amiss until you miss a step and trip to the ground. You should have kept your eyes open! Not much seems different when you open your eyes; it’s nearly pitch black down here and the ground is now stone, a puddle or two here and there. Do you continue or head back upstairs?Â
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The door gives way easily to your sword, the burnt and decaying wood crumbling to the ground. The windmill is hollow inside with no means of climbing upwards. The floor is burnt and broken away as well, save for a stone stair case leading down beneath the structure. Be careful with your next step, the floor doesn’t look too sturdy!
He might not have had access to a TV for a while, but before his life went to shit, Rain had watched enough cartoons to know where this was leading. But before he proceeded, he jabbed a few holes in the barely-stable wood flooring right by the entrance, hoping if someone tried to follow him they’d have the floor collapse under them. Â
 Expecting the stairs to shift and turn into a slide, Rain closed his eyes and held his sword outward as he braced himself down the steps. Â
The path up ahead is indeed empty, but upon a closer inspection you see that it opens up into a large dirt field with only a wooden windmill breaking the landscape.
With nowhere else to go, Rain headed towards the windmill in the distance. Â Stopping briefly to pick up a sponsor gift, Rain was a bit comforted at the weapon delivered to him. Â
“Heck yeah.”
Like a blind man with a cane, Rain raked the sword lightly across the ground in front of him, wary of any skeleton hands rising up and snatching him. Â
Rain approached the door and did as any normal person would do and chopped it in half rather than knocking. Â He peered inside.Â
Rain was untrained but wasn’t un-smart.  Despite that not being a real word, he could see that there were 4 sets of footprints laid out in the path in front of him. Â
“No.”  He mumbled as he turned around.  It’d be dumb of him to head in the direction of four of other tributes without being armed. Â
He was used to walking quietly through alleys, snatching a stolen meal and carrying it off to safety, but as he saw the career boy fighting with spooky skeletons, it was clear he should only sneak past and not try to jack anything from the kid. Â
Rain could’ve sworn he heard a tribute hiding behind a gravestone, but decided to ignore it and start down the southwest path, where it seemed Vodka’s footsteps had turned around in the dusty trail.Â
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My life may be over soon, but I’m finding that every cloud has a silver lining.  Too long I’ve suffered and toiled in distress.  But now that I actually feel whole for once, I know that I have to appreciate what little time I may have and stay as positive as can be. Â
A shower, unlike any I’ve had before.  It had been years since I could properly bathe myself.  I had forgotten how refreshing they can be.  Rose-scented steam wafted across my nose; just one of the many detailed luxuries the Capitol had to offer. Â
Although it will be cut short soon, I had to admit I had quite the life with cotrasting perspectives.  As a female, as a male, as middle class, as a street roamer, and now finally as a celebrity.  Maybe that could help me win.  Who knows, it would be a nice surprise but I’m not expecting much. Â
I stepped out of the shower, wrapped myself in a velvet robe, then was immediately met with a 8 foot tall, pink-haired hologram. Â
BIOMETRIC SCAN ACTIVATEÂ It screeched.
“Beg pardon?”
BIOMETRIC SCAN COMPLETE
“I don’t--”
I AM A.V.R.I.L. Â I HAVE BEEN ASSIGNED TO MENTOR YOU THROUGHOUT THE GAMES.
“You’re my mentor?”
CONFIRMED
“Like.  Instead of a person?  With skin?”
I AM DETECTING RISING LEVELS OF DOUBT FROM YOU. Â I ASSURE YOU THAT I HAVE THE RECORDS OF 80 GAMES PROGRAMMED INTO MY SYSTEM AND CAN ASSESS THE OPTIMAL PROCESSIONS FOR YOUR TIME AS A TRIBUTE. Â
“Uh, like what?”
PROCESSING...I HAVE DETECTED THAT YOU HAVE ONLY ONE KIDNEY AND THAT FOR A BIOLOGICAL FEMALE, YOU HAVE AN ALARMING HIGH LEVEL OF TESTOSTERONE.
“That’s because I’m a male.”
RECORDED.
I was stunned.  It was a bit of a downer seeing that I wouldn’t have an actual mentor, but this program could be another silver lining that I refuse to overlook.  After all, no other mentor is going to be able to do what A.V.R.I.L. could do.  But what impressed me the most was that even though all of these people are working towards my eminent death, they all accept me for who I am.  Every peacekeeper, escort, partner, and even computer program could accept that I am male. Â
A brutish peacekeeper knocked down a makeshift shelter in the corner of the alley. Dusty and tattered men and women covered their eyes at the sudden illuminating light as one of the soldiers began to speak.
“We’re here for Raina. She is elligible for the games and must report to the ceremony.”
“Ain’t nobody here by that name.” An elderly panhandler croaked.
“It’s fine.” Rain softly announced. He accepted the demands and looked back to the family of freaks that had taken him in.
“Come with us young lady.”
“Young man.” The elder corrected.
As the escort started to select names, Rain stood stoically, trying to forget the confusion and embarassment when his bloos was being taken. But there was a comfort in knowing that the capitol had recognized his true gender finally. Maybe his mom could too.
“Raina Castellanos.”
The moment of comfort was fleeting. Rain was used to feeling defeated so he walked to the stage without a protest or without raising his head.
“Any words you’d like to express to your district before leaving?” The ornate escort probed.
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