Writing this is more enjoyable than it should be xD

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Asher

Sheeesh. What a spaz. I ignore the mock kissing noises emanating from the hall as Juniper storms away.

But I don't really care, I'm even glad she's left. The 74th games seem for my eyes only, and I know that's ridiculous knowing as this stuff has been aired all over Panem, but it feels so personal I can't help wanting to watch alone. I've seen other games, but never these.

It's strange seeing my middle aged parents as old as me, and they weren't kidding when they say I'm Dads clone. If you ignore the eyes, we could be twins. But then I think of everyone deciding Junipers like mom and feel queasy.

And now I see them in a new sort of light. When everyone talks about the games, they feel mythical and unreal, but now my parents and everything they've been through become reality to me. I come to the part with the family interviews, and I see the girl from the photo.

The picture is propped on Mums bed side table, showing a girl younger than me, with light hair and bright eyes. The first time I noticed it, I thought it must be Dads sister, before I realized he didn't have a sister. My sister came in right then and plopped down on the bed beside me. 'Casava? Who's this?'

'oh that's just auntie Primrose.'

'Aunt?'

'yah, she got blown-up during the rebellion. Don't ask Mom about her ok? She'll freak.'

And now those words bounce around in my head as I watch Primrose speak hopefully about Mum.

"Blown-up"

She would have been younger than me.

Blown-up, blown-up, blown-up.

The girl is wrapped in her mother's arms. I never met grandma Everdeen, but she seems so distant I'm not surprised she died early. And the girl keeps talking, strong and innocent like nothing could pull her sister down.

The video ends with the berries. The berries, I've heard so much about them, but seeing this scene I feel like people made t much of it. It was just a quick decision, with no planning or forethought. Mum just wanted to get her and Dad out alive. The screen buzzes to blackness, and I let my head fall into my hands. This is impossible, I can't reenact that with Juniper, and that stunt with the berries definitely won't work a second time, heck, they'd probably just let both of us die for the sake of "tragedy".

I meander back to my compartment, feeling more helpless than ever.

Juniper

It is dark but I can't sleep. Tomorrow we'll be in the capitol, the stinking capitol. I can't believe the rebels didn't demolish that place after they won. And what a win it was, just to reestablish all the previous rules, with maybe a slightly better life in the districts.

I want to break those pretty buildings like trampling a sand castle. I can imagine them tumbling to the ground and crushing everything, and everyone. Maybe me too but at least I'd get to see them fall.

But I know that's not going to happen. It's they who'll get to dress me up and then kill me. It's almost funny how the districts fought for freedom, realized they were bored, and started these sick games up all over again.

Oh yah, except now they're known as the "face-offs", but no one bothers to call them by something so ridiculously stupid.

And the reality is, most people aren't affected by the games, and most is the majority. And that's the majority needed to reinstate them.

I finally come to terms with the fact that I'm not going to bed, and decide I might as well use my time productively.

I scramble through my drawers, but can't find anything useful. I have the forethought to scrounge out the capitol provided hair pins and slip one into my pocket. I slide quietly out of my room and make my way to the train's kitchens. The door is locked, but that's no problem. I know they wouldn't have been stupid enough to make this lock easily pick-able but there is a serving window opening into the dining hall thingy. I make my way there and clamber onto the serving ledge. The lock is easy, and after a moment I'm in.

I find a pot, simple enough, a tall thin one that could only be some messed up capitol trend. The string is more difficult but still manageable, I find it in some capitol attendants private cubby. Ehe, cubby, they get cubbies. I don't think they'll miss the yo-yo very much, and I bet the results of this will be more satisfying then a yo-yo anyway.

I fill the pot with some raw eggs from the fridge and haul my cache over to Asher's bedroom thingy. One more trip gets me a chair and I stand on it, balancing the pot on the unnaturally protruding door casing. This is one of those times when I'm glad I can be silent. I rig up the yo-yo string so it travels from the pots handle to the outside door handle, I check it over one last time and leave too grab a pillow from my room. Ok, this isn't very creative but no one cares.

I camp outside of Ashers bedroom and eventually fall asleep. The distinct click of our escort's heels wakes me, and I jump up to knock lightly (so the pot of nastiness doesn't come unbalanced) on the door before she can get there.

'Wakey, wakey! eggs and backey!' I yell, pressing my mouth against the door crack before retreating a safe distance away. The escort sighs and brings out her camera. I seriously wonder what romantic thoughts can derive from that sentence of mine.

'Juniper?' Asher calls from inside, sounding partially awake.

'come out dear! Today is going to be an enormous day!' The escort calls, making a nervous glance at the pot but deciding it's filled with roses.

A few minutes passes before I see the door handle turn.

And open.

And Asher steps out.

And gets egged.

'Juniper.' He says calmly while I pound the floor in laughter. 'Thanks for the breakfast, love.' He grins at the escort, who blushes and squeals, while he graciously licks egg yolk off his finger and returns to his room, presumably to go shower.

Oh. That was not cool. Not cool at all. I stop laughing abruptly and just stare at the door blankly.

'Why don't you go in dear?' The escort sighs, turning bright pink. 'I'm sure he's waiting.'

Oh god. What a sick minded person she is, that makes me want to barf. So I just scramble out of the hall way and hide outside the conductors door.

Asher

Well that was immature. I avoid the eggs at breakfast and just smile at Juniper whenever she passes by. I heard that comment the escort made at the door and barely suppressed a fit of death inducing laughter. I guess that's why Juniper looks mortified for the rest of the day.

The capitol is fancy, not as fancy as it once was I hear, but still. We great our stylists, well, I do. Juniper just gets angry and almost throws a pork chop at the guy. Teressa looks relieved to have me as a tribute, and our escort Carmela brings out the camera, from which Juniper does not withhold the meat.

Her stylists, Miki, and her prep team usher her away from the table, realizing that they'll need loads of time to get her to cooperate.

Dinner is finished in silence, and I can't help but feel bad for Rory who just stares blankly at his food, unsure of what to do.

Eventually I'm sitting with Teressa in the fancy dressing room as she nods her head at random intervals. I'm starting to worry she has some sort of mental problems.

Eventually she sighs dramatically and leaves. After a moment I decide to follow her. She bobs in some stuff on a keypad, and within a few minutes a shiny bag has risen into the room.

'Here it is!' she tells me, holding up the bag.

'erm… very-'

'Oh sorry!' she giggles (which s awkward, no one wants their stylist to giggle). 'It's I the bag!'

Teressa meticulously unwraps the suit from within the folds of protective bagginess. And well, it's a suit. And it smells weird… and one arm is longer than the other. I instinctively check to see if I'm actually lopsided that way, I'm not. Someone failed.

She hands it me before hobbling out of the room.

Okay…

When she returns, I'm still standing there, not having moved at all, awkwardly, holding the black material in one hand and a pair of matching socks in the other.

'oh sorry!' she burst, running back out and slamming the door.

Ummm…

It takes one more similar exchange to get me to realize she wants me to get changed.

I get giddy as I near the chariots. Horses neigh, and the sound of the crowd penetrates through the big doors. Tributes stand around their chariots, one girl from eleven is petting her horse and some kid from four is sitting on his and waving his arm like a cowboy. Something about him seems familiar, come to think about it, something about the girl does to.

Not really thinking I wander over to them, just as someone who I presume to be one of their stylists does the same.

'O'dair.' The man nods to them. 'Tristen, get off the horse.'

Oh. Oh no. I met them once, when we visited the orphanage. Their Mom was alive, but living in a care home, and their Dad died in the rebellion. I realize that Annie would be watching these games, and if her twins die…

I clench my teeth and hurry back to the dark black District twelve chariot, ignoring the fancy luminescent costumes sported by all the tributes.

Juniper leans against the horse, insisting to Rory that she won't stand on a chariot beside a blonde because she might just get infected. I swing up onto the platform and offer my hand to her mockingly.

'Don't touch me.'

'You think I want to?'

She glares at my hand. Oh. I draw it back awkwardly.

Taking the opportunity, Rory picks her up and shoves her beside me. She stumbles into me, and I just manage not to fall, but we end up in some weird embrace.

'There you go!' Junipers stylist randomly appears behind us and welds our hands together. WAIT. He just welds the overlong arm sleeves together… don't worry, not with fire.

Great, now we're Siamese twins.

I can tell Juniper isn't happy about this. She shrugs back her shoulder so her hand is almost up to the elbow part of her jumpsuit.

'This is all your fault.'

'what? Since can I call upon random and spontaneous human beings to come and-' I shake the connected sleeve. '-weld our arms together? Since when do I want to even?'

'No you retard, I mean all of this! If it weren't for you and your stupid family, we would never have to reenact this stupid thing!'

'You mean it's my fault I was born?'

'It's your fault you look so much like Peeta. It's your fault you even cooperate with these fancied freaks!'

'That's just-'I'm interrupted by a sudden wave of noise, crowds cheering and the cheesy sound of trumpets. The doors have opened, and the first chariots are making their slow procession into the waiting capitol.

'Just try.' I hiss in Junipers ear. 'Just try to act like you don't want me dead.'

'But that would be lying.'

At the last minute the stylist runs back to us and sets us on fire. How creative. Turns out half the district tributes are on fire along with us. District 7, district 13 (except their also exploding and shooting missiles that detonate in the air), district 11 (renewable corn energy or something), district 10 (burning cattle?) , district 4 (?), and last but not least, district 2, the burning miners who presumably have just been blown up by a stray stick of dynamite.

Juniper

We must look like we're in the circus. I'm glad Asher doesn't even try to do the whole romance thing, and so we're content with leaning drasticaly in opposite directions, fully aware that if the welding between our sleeves breaks, we'll be swallowed by the crowd below. It seems the crowd is also fully aware, because their starting to pull out forks and knives…Sorry, exaggeration, their only waving us off to be slaughtered for the lols.

I can't help but realize how retarded we must look, but the "eager to believe anything" capitol citizens seem to think we're leeing off the chariots to get closer to them.

Just to clarify that that isn't the case, I give them the middle finger. Which sets off a middle finger chain reaction. First it's the people at the front, jumping in beat to the music and waving their middle fingers in the air like the spider man rock symbol, but soon all of Panem is exchanging middle fingers likes it's a freaking handshake or something. I slap my palm against my forehead as my eyes fall on one of the huge display screens. It's a close up of me, sticking up my finger remixed. It would have been the most hilarious thing ever if not for the fact that it's me, and… well… I glare at Asher whose finally burst out laughing after struggling to contain it for some time.

'Good one Juniper.' He yells over the din.

'Yah, cause that's my life's dream.' I gesture in the direction of the big screen, still showing me. They practically made a music video out of the one two second clip.

Things are really going great for me. Just great.

Its the profanation of the nation. Review Review Review! I need some encouragement from you people! :D good? Bad? sucks camel hump? tell me!

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