primadonna //circe&artemis

There was a pre-determined food chain in the training center. At least there had always been one in Circe’s mind. The tributes from one and four were at the top. Careers hailing from districts with luxury rivaling the ones from the Capitol. It was a harsh reminder that the one’s from these two district could pretend to be as good as the Captiol, but they would never be then. District two becoming the perfect example of just how quickly that privilege could be taken away. Their fall from grace was a public affair, and as it happened Circe could remember the chatter and whispers in her own training center. Everyone bathing in schadenfreude, forgetting how easily it could happen to them.

Circe had quickly changed her own opinions; district two had no longer been on her radar. Hardley even considering them a real career district anymore, Circe had even preferred teaming up with six instead. Sera had what Circe considered a charming sense of sarcasm, it will probably get her killed eventually. Portia was dedicated, possibly even a threat. Probably best to keep her close until it was time to get rid of her. Circe was never one to keep her enemies attached to her hip, often pushing them as far away as possible. When push came to shove, Circe had always run over those she considered to be a threat.

Times were changing, the training center was not the private home of her family where enemies shared blood and a dinner table.

Everywhere she looked, there were watchful eyes observing her from each angle. The gamemakers high and might on their chairs behind a force field. On the ground the other tributes possibly forming their won lists of who to kill and who would be cannon fodder. At home everyone was watching, capitolites starving for a taste of the merry murderers to be. Circe was left no other option other than to play nice for the cameras. A skill the head of the Murdock family had taught his children well. A charming façade of perfection, however no matter how hard she tried it was almost impossible for Circe to mimic kindness in her eyes.

One of the girls from two, one of the tributes Circe did not think too much of, sat at a table alone at lunch. Granted it was later than when most of the tributes had scurried off, but she did her best training when the center was empty. Practicing without a constant whisper in the back of her head that she had to put on a performance. Time for her to relax just a little bit, but not enough to let the gamemakers see anything but what Circe was supposed to be, everything she was not.

With a tray of salad in her hands, she sat down in one of the empty seats Infront of the girl. She smiled politely with perfect upright posture as she held out her hand. “I’m Circe, you must be Artemis.” She had studied the names and faces of the tributes. Growing up in a house with no secrets, it had become vital that she knew everything she could and when she didn’t she did her best to find out. Circe needed to know if Artemis was another throw away career from two or if she would need to be disposed of quickly. “Pretty late lunch, huh?” a remark with not much importance but would tell her exactly what she needed to know.

She flashed another smile as she stabbed her lettuce with a fork.