playing the game [careers: districts 1, 2 + 4]

[RACELET HOLLA]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=width,500,true] [style=text-align: center] That girl is a bad girl [/style] [style=font-size: 10px; line-height: 10px; padding: 25px; margin-top: -10px; color: CCCCCC;] Racelet was one of the first tributes to leave training for lunch, her stomach rumbling. She hadn't eaten much for breakfast because of the treacherous snakes in her stomach and now she was paying the price. She'd had a good morning as far as training was concerned though. The new crossbows were a little tighter than the ones she was used to and at first they had required a little adjustment. But now she was hitting the dummies in the heart every time. After lunch, she fully intended to go and do something a little smarter. Edible plants maybe. But then again, as a potential career, Racelet probably wouldn't need the security of knowing which plants would kill her and which wouldn't. She'd have the food from the Cornucopia. The spears, however, were looking much more attractive. They were sharp and pointed to the perfect tip. She could just imagine the feel of one sliding slowly out of her grip to bury itself in a dummy or a tribute. Yes, she could almost here the thud of death now. Spears after lunch, then. Racelet sat at a table with her fancy Capitol lunch, some sort of soup; and grabbed some bread from the basket. They were all different shapes and sizes, but she took the clean white curve that was most familiar; the bread of District 1. The food here was a definite bonus, it was a good job she didn't have a big appetite or she had a feeling she would have been ill several times by now. There was a murmur from the entrance to the lunch room and Racelet twisted in her chair to see an assortment of tributes enter. Good. Maybe now she could meet her fellow careers. Like everyone, Racelet was dubious about the end result of an alliance. If someone would stab her in the back while she slept. But there was no doubting that most of the Games in history had been won by someone who was previously in an alliance, so Racelet decided not to knock it until she tried it. [/style] tagged; career tributes. words; 348. notes; -- TEMPLATE BY LITTLE BITTY PRETTY ONE @ CAUTION 2.0

[JETON NERO]

Jeton stood stone-faced in the elevator as it inched up one level to the lunch area above the training center. He listened absently to the conversation between the other tributes riding in the elevator. Their pettiness irritated him. They spoke lightly, looking down at their feet and constantly fidgeting as if terrified that at any moment another tribute would attack them. He smirked as he watched a younger tribute actually flinch as he reached to hit the floor button. Granted he was more than double the size of the small tribute, and much bulkier, but he wasn't so stupid and bloodthirsty that he'd waste his efforts here in the training center and get himself into trouble. Oh no. He'd waited his whole life for these games, and he didn't intended on wasting it. As the doors opened he glanced up at the clock and noted he had about fifteen minutes until the center would open again. He was planning on improving his hand-to-hand combat this time, and knew he needed some more time with the crossbow as well. He'd spotted his fellow district 1 tribute using them earlier and noted her precision. She was good, he'd give her that much.

He scanned the room and his eyes caught on her fiery red hair and he strode over, carrying with him some soup, a hunk of beef and a small bowl of who-knew-what dessert of some kind. Setting down his tray he glanced up at her and muttered, "Mind if i join?" He tried not to look like his usual brooding self and attempted a friendly smile. Although he really didn't see the point. He was already planning to kill her. As he slid onto the bench he ripped off a piece of the beef and began to stuff his face, still eyeing the clock. He wanted to be first back down to the training. As he chewed he looked up at her again, realizing she was from his district, and a fleeting idea crossed his mind. Alliance. It was an idea no one really liked to entertain, but part of the act. Make friends, kill the weak links off, then backstab as soon as you could and get the hell out before the alliance completely fell apart. He'd seen the routine for years on the television. And he'd seen how essential it was to initial success within the games. He knew she was a career, he'd seen her skills in the center. Still chewing like a savage he looked up at her, "Racelet, right? I ain't too good with names. You a career or just naturally that good with weaponry?" He smirked slightly and continued eating.