That night Quinn went directly back to her room and went to sleep after examining the mockingjay pin for what seemed like hours. She had never had anything that seemed to expensive. Now it seemed sort of pointless that she had it, since she wouldn't have it very long.

The next day of training went by without a hitch. The only changes were that Ciruss had decided to eat breakfast with them even though Mags was there. Mags was nice to him, and she was nice to her-- but she didn't go out of her way to communicate with him. Quinn liked to believe that was because she understood why he didn't want to be around her. The other change was that she had her alliance decided, and she also announced it.

"Do you two know who you will be allied with?" Finnick had asked, hoping that the two of them had smoothed any problems over and we're going to be allies.

"Twelve, Eight, and the boy from Two." Arkon had replied quickly, and then everyone's eyes had landed on Quinn-- waiting a nod in agreement.

"One, Three, and the girl from Two."

"If the arena doesn't have a lot of water, they'll kill you right away." Arkon said sharply, his eyes were wide along with everyone else's.

"Well you weren't talking about alliances with me." Quinn retorted, "So I made my own." she finished as she took another bite of food.

"But the Career pack?" Arkon asked in reply.

"Four is a Career district, Arkon. You could join too." she replied sharply, but Finnick quickly ended their conversation by making it a general conversation about trust by asking them if they trusted their allies.

He didn't look disappointed, but Quinn could hear the slightest tinge of disappointment in his voice. Mags had a look in her eye that showed the same disappointment too. So the only problem with the third day of training was the thick tension between Quinn and Arkon. Although they did their best to stay on opposite sides of the training center, Quinn still felt like she could actually hold onto the tension and move it around with her barehands.

Then the next morning came early. Both Quinn and Arkon were rushed to get into a red and black athletic suit of sorts. Then they were escorted to the elevators, then finally to the bottom floor. Mags and a Peacekeeper went with Arkon, then Finnick and she assumed Damien went with her. The elevator was silent, and if it was even possible-- the tension was even heavier. It seemed to make the air thicker and also made it more difficult to actually breathe.

"Well, it's your time to shine, princess." Finnick sighed, a sad attempt to break the silence between everyone in the elevator.

Quinn snickered, but only to humor his attempt.

The silence returned and didn't go away until the elevator came to complete stop. The elevator doors opened and they all took a step out of the elevator.

"We'll be waiting for you, alright?" Finnick stated looking at each of the tributes.

Arkon nodded, "Yeah, okay." he said with another nod and then turned and left. Mags sighed heavily and put a hand on Finnicks shoulder and gave it a squeeze before she turned and walked the other direction.

"Finnick," Quinn started, "I have no idea what I'm going to do..." she frowned, "I have no real skill that will get me a good score."

Finnick frowned, "Who said you have to use a skill they taught you?" he asked, "Quinn you just have to make a impression. Preferably a good one."

"But how do I do that? I'm not outstanding at any of the stations." she said, her tone was shaky as she tried to hide the whiny-voice that was threatening to make an appearance.

Finnick remained quiet for a moment before putting a hand on each of her shoulders. "Don't let them forget you."

Quinn had seated herself next to Arkon, but had put plenty of space between both of them. Her mind bounced between different things, between Finnicks advice, her alliance-- Arkons alliance, District Four, what she was supposed to do during her fifteen minutes...she didn't even know where to begin! She could throw a spear or two at the targets, but that would probably be pretty common amoung the tributes-- there had been a few others who focused on using spears. There had to be a way to make it more original, she had to think of a way to make it stand out-- she had to make it unforgettable.

As sat there, she ran her fingers along the braid that Ciruss had put in her hair.

Her mind gradually wandered to her brother. He had died in the sixty-fourth games. She wasn't sure how or what happened...but she knew he was just another dead tribute to the Capitol. He could have had a life outside of the games, she would have known him-- their whole family may have survived the small pox if they had gotten the money! But none of that mattered because he hadn't mattered to the Capitol-- Snow didn't care, even though he said he was terribly sorry for every loss even though it was a price Panem had to pay...

"Maverick, Quinn, District Four."

Quinn quickly sat up from resting her head in her hands, she looked ahead of her and Arkon and saw that Districts One, Two, and Three were all gone. She glanced at Arkon, and for a moment, she felt like she saw her brother. A boy who just wanted to win and go home-- but she wanted to think that her brother wouldn't have done what he had done. He wouldn't have excluded her from any alliance until he found out she had her own.

She took a deep breath as she ran her fingers along her thighs for a moment before she pushed herself up from her seat. She glanced down at Arkon for a moment before she turned and walked towards the entrance. As soon as her foot went through the entrance she heard the gamemakers speaking and laughing with one another.

Her eyes quickly darted around the training center.

The stimulation room?

Quinn shook her head at the thought. She nearly killed herself when she tried using spears in that thing. So she would have to go with the usual targets. Which she was okay with.

She sighed heavily, and curtly nodded-- if anyone was watching her, they probably thought she was crazy already. But she just had to straighten things out in her head.

"Quinn Maverick, District Four." she announced as she looked up at the gamemakers, her voice sounded just about as confident as she could make it sound.

Seneca Crane nodded. He wore white pants, a green shirt that was tucked in, and a black jacket. "You have fifteen minutes to perform any of the stations you've worked at, good luck."

Perform?

These stations were meant to help her kill other tributes. Demonstrate may have been a better word he could have used.

But Quinn sighed heavily as she turned sharply on her heels, puffing out her cheeks as she walked towards the rack of spears. She grabbed two at first and then turned towards the maniquins that stood with bullseye's on their chests and faces.

"Don't let them forget you." Finnicks advice drifted back into her head at the touch of the spears in her palms. How was this rememberable? How could she be remarried at all? There was nothing special about her or this skill...

What would make me rememberable to them? To President Snow-- the same man who didn't seem to care about any of the tributes who died? The same person who promised time and time again that orphans would have a fair chance at getting off the streets.

If it wasn't for Snow, she wouldn't be in this position. Her brother would be alive. Annie wouldn't be on the edge of insanity...so many things would be so much better if nobody had to worry about what Snow would do to them. Quinn had heard the rumors about Snow setting up so called accidents to get rid of a problem. If it wasn't for Snow, then kids like Damien wouldn't have been ripped away from their homes and forced to do something they didn't want to do.

Quinn let the spears fall from her hands, her eyes snapped from the targets to the table of pants that were for the people that were doing camouflage for their performance. Her eyes then went up to the gamemakers. Most of them didn't pay her much attention when she dropped the spears-- but Seneca Crane was seated in his chair, his elbows rested on his legs as he leaned forward and his fingers crossed under his chin. He looked genuionly interested in what she was doing.

She turned and quickly went over to the table and grabbed two colors-- white and red. She then turned and walked over to the maniquin that had the targets on it. She balanced the colors in one arm and turned the target away from the gamemakers.

"Want a performance? Fine." she muttered quietly to herself as she used the white paint on the chest of the target. "You won't forget it..." she said as she set the paints down on the floor beside the target and then hesitated before she turned it towards the gamemakers again.

She heard one of them gasp and the rest of them fell silent too. Seneca still looked the most interested-- he had risen from his chair, and his arms were crossed over his chest as he watched her walk back to the spears.

She bent down and picked them both up. Balancing the wieght in her hands before raising one spear up. The trainers even said she had a gift with throwing, her aim was good. She had the stupid little games that the younger orphans made her play to thank for that.

She let the first spear fly, it sliced through the air and hit the stomach of the maniquin. Not one of the bullseye's like she had intended, but she still had one more. This time, she heaved the second spear through the air with more force-- more anger behind it. It connected with the bullseye on the chest with a thud, and she smiled with satisfaction.

The spear was right where she aimed. The white paint was still dripping a bit, but the words President Snow were still perfectly readable.

But she wasn't quite done. She quickly walked towards the target and scooped up the red paint and simply put an ex where each of the eyes should have been. She then pulled out each spear and turned and went back to the rack and put them back in their rightful place. She then turned and looked up at the gamemakers, most of them looked at eachother in shock-- but a few watched her carefully, including Seneca who had let his arms drop to his side.

"Thank you for your time, Mr. Crane." Quinn said, her voice sounded much more confident than it had at the beginning. There was something about the look of the horrified look in their eyes that seems satisfying. They were responsible for the death of so many kids and they were horrified when a maniquin with the words Presideng Snow was vandalized?

Quinn turned on her heels and made her way towards the exit. She took one step out before the doors closed behind her so they could clean up her mess. There were benches lining the walls, and mentors sat on them. Finnick spoke with Johanna Mason, from District Seven but quickly stood up when he saw Quinn.

The two of them went to the elevators to go to their living quarters. They were completely silent until the doors slid shut.

"Well? What did you do?" Finnick asked as the elevator jolted into motion.

Quinn shrugged nonchalantly, "They won't forget me."