#mj.start

Dyna stood near the hand-to-hand mat, arms loosely crossed, one hip resting against the edge of a padded divider. The training hall buzzed around her. Metal clashing, voices murmuring, tributes rotating between stations like pieces on a game board. Above it all, the Gamemakers watched from their perch, sipping from crystal glasses like they were here for a show.

She’d learned not to look up at them.

Instead, she focused on the mat beneath her feet, the scuff marks worn in from too many hours of contact drills. The station had always been her favorite, something about the simplicity of it. No weapons. No theatrics. Just movement. Precision. Breath.

Footsteps approached. She glanced up as a victor turned tribute stepped into the station. Someone familiar, though that wasn’t saying much. They were all familiar.

She offered a small nod, letting her arms drop to her sides.

“Morning,” she said, voice low but even, the Capitol crispness softened at the edges. “This is Station Four. Hand-to-hand.” A faint breath of a smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. “We’ll start slow. Basic stance, then reaction drills. No need to impress anyone.”

Her eyes flicked briefly - just once - toward the glass above.

“Just stay on your feet.”

"Enjoying the party? It really is quite the spectacle isn't it?"

if there was one place in all the capitol that aloysius should not be, it is in a crowded room full of near strangers. it might be a big part of his job, but the point still stands. he'd been nervous about the interviews for weeks, knowing it was going to be broadcasted and knowing he would have some sort of involvement with it going smoothly -- and it did not go smoothly.

it was late--probably later than dante should have been up considering that he had to be up bright and early to help train this year's tributes. something that still left a bitter taste in his mouth, all things considered. in truth, he'd love nothing more than to tell the capitol to fuck off with that particular job assignment--but after the little display in the stables the other day?

it was better to keep his mouth shut.

things had calmed down since then, or at least calmed down as much as it could for this time of year. but despite that, those images still played in dante's head on a loop. he was self-aware enough to assume it was part of the reason he was still awake at this hour--aware enough to know it is why there was a strong drink in his hand. the center was quiet and he had assumed that most everyone had gone to sleep by now. but evidently not.

"no rest for the wicked?"

pandora snow had wandered away from the medical room she'd been brought to upon her arrival, she'd had to sell the woe is me act and had put her plan into action weeks earlier. it had given her time to drop some weight, stop taking as good care of her hair and skin and nails, find some less than pristine clothing. she had even managed to bribe some district filth to put her in a cell in the tribute tower. and now she was in district thirteen, a prisoner yes, but it was all part of the plan. she found an empty hallway and lit up a cigarette she'd lifted from one of the guards, lighting it up and taking a long drag in the blissful quiet. a sound to her left made her tear her gaze away from the opposite wall, turning her head slowly to see who had found her. "i wasn't trying to escape, you know. not that i could." she let out a dry laugh and embellished it a little by following with a cough.

haymitch did not envy those who still had to do interviews. it was the one part of the games haymitch hated most ( possibly the one that had saved his own life, of course, but he didn't like to think about it. ) a little excitement disrupting the practice, though, that he truly loved. even better if it was a bit of uprising excitement.

he wasn’t happy, not by any means, he was never going to be able to be happy in this place. however, it was almost laughable to think of behind-the-scenes people tinkering with elevators & lights, whispering about the mockingjay while he sat back and waited for them to fix the elevators. he had to make a big act of not knowing what was going on. luckily, he had always been a pretty good actor.

it didn't matter how fresh or not it was in her mind. a very public show of who's in charge couldn't help but shake estelle. what had caused all this? she had no idea. honestly, she doesn't think she cares to find out if it put's her in a similar positon. as long as she could provide for herself and her family, that's all that mattered. "would you like a drink? you look like you could use one." or maybe that was a round about way of saying she needed one. or an excuse for another.

maybe this whole thing bothered her more than she once thought. her mannerisms and speech operating faster than usual a dead giveaway she was stressed. all she can hope is her companion doesn't know her well enough to notice. holding her glass up, she leans forward onto her elbows. "cheers."

Kane had accepted his fate, he was going to die so that his daughter could live. He knew it would be hard on Aura and Zephyr but the two would get to have each other. So, with that acceptance, Kane figured he’d have a last ‘hoorah’ before he needed to cut out the alcohol and cigarettes.