AN:/Reminder at this point there are still plenty of slots left to be filled before I can truly begin this story. Yet I've been itching to write a small chapter for the lovely female tributes sent into me so far. I do hope I'll reach and exceed the expectations of your character and welcome any feedback to improve.

-Reality Check-

"Try not to stick an axe in anyone's back tonight sweetie. I'm not in the mood for blood on my dress." -Bo Swan

Being the sibling of a Victor can give you plenty of perks. I could even list them for you to start,

1. Nice and comfortable home

2. There is never not enough food to eat

3. Money is something of the past

4. You meet "people"

My sister was reaped into the Games a few years ago and thankfully succeeded in conquering the inhumane tournament that it is. I can remember watching in the viewing room with my feet curled into the carpet and arms strangling a pillow in both fear and excitement as my sister plunge knife after knife into tribute after tribute. I was there but yet, I wasn't when she was announced a Victor. When she finally came home things were much different. She rarely talked to anyone and whenever there was a knife in her hand she would freeze in place shaking like a chill had run over her. But it wasn't like she didn't talk to anyone after long. There was a boy who would come to Victor's Village and wait outside our grey and blue painted home. He was rugged and his shoulders spoke of hard work and muscles earned. Not one person in all of District 2 looked like him. It didn't take me long to figure out that he, like my sister, was also a poor soul subjected to being a play thing of the Capitol. I told you didn't I? Being the sister of a Victor you meet people. But meeting people became the least of my worries when I turned seventeen and was reaped out of my comfortable home, away from my family, and to the horror of my traumatized sister. However, to my surprise, she demanded that she become my mentor. Her steps became purposeful and dangerous instead of weary and skittish. Her expression told stories in it's own and she put all her efforts into training me on knife play. I was preparing to fight so that I could keep everything I had.

Yet the Hunger Games wasn't just about who could shed the most blood and survive everything the game makers could through at them. It was also a show-off contest that pitted stylists and districts against who could make the prettier tribute. For us it was who could gain sponsors and intimidate the other tributes the fastest. Here was I, the lovely Quarry Eliken, wearing my red locks in a tight but curly up-do and my lashes plastered with Capitol mascara produced in the streets of District 1. I had been pampered left and right by stylists whose names never crossed my mind. To top off my gorgeous figure they stuffed me into a emerald gown with real, yes real, diamonds aligning across the bodice and glimmering with every sway of my hips. I had since long gone forgotten the advice my sister drilled into me about the interview tonight and instead took to gazing at myself in the mirror. Not once had I thought myself beautiful but for tonight I could make an exception.

"Mind if I take a picture sugar?"

Another girl strutted past, her short purple dress fluttering with as much spunk as she walked, but turned slightly to offer a wink before following her mentor. Her honey colored hair was curled to perfection and something told me that she was a force not to be trifled with.

"Bo Swan, District 8. She's an affection seeker but very good with a knife if you put one in her hand."

"You forget that I'm good with a knife too. Just put one in my hand and I'll give some of these Capitol ladies a proper haircut." I giggled while my sister smiled at my sudden burst of a sassy remark.

"You're learning a bit of spunk Quarry but just remember not to overdue it. You're on stage in ten minutes so let's get the stylist off our backs for a minute."


District 8, the capitol of everything and anything fabric, was and is what my life revolved around most of the time. I can remember every dress my mother sewed and shipped out like most of the neighborhood ladies to other more spoiled women living in the Capitol. All of the fabric that we female tributes wore tonight in our pretty little dresses was made in District 8. Yet here I am standing utterly annoyed at how stupid these Capitol Stylists really are. So of course I went ahead and yelled some actual sense into them and got a desirable finished product in the end. Short enough to hide the jewels but long enough to keep it interesting. Perfect. I didn't look too bad in a pixie purple either. Tonight I was going to charm the audience and our MC into the palm of my hand. While I was trying around different ways to show off my dress I noticed another girl had taken camp next to me. We stood around the same height but she, an inch taller. Her dress was long and hung to the floor in a light green palette but still seemed to retain more than one shade. It was hung to her by one shoulder strap and gave a simple look rather then a show stopper like what most of the girls wore tonight. Her hair, like mine, was pulled up and in it, brown branches were woven into a natural crown. You almost couldn't see it due to her brown locks blending the colors together. But when she moved into the light it shinned golden and bright. To be honest I was too transfixed by her eyes more than anything. The green color they held was far superior to my own dull brown irises.

"If you keep staring I'll aim to stick my axe in your back."

I tried not to let the comment get to me since I almost expected it. I mean we are all here to kill each other after all aren't we? Instead I patted my dress and turned to the girl, "Try not to stick an axe in anyone's back tonight sweetie. I'm not in the mood for blood on my dress."

She didn't respond with any retort or even a movement of acknowledgment. I was disappointed I suppose you could say. I was going to take the advice of my mentor and try to make friends, or in his actual words, alliances. But I knew that I wanted this girl on my side even if I had to play dirty to do so. Besides...I have a thing for brunettes. Before I had the chance to open my mouth my mentor called for my attention and I was forced to comply and be whisked away from the mysterious princess. Listening to that game maker Faye Folly was making me sound like some dramatic novel writer.

"I'm guessing you want some dirt on our District 7 tribute over there?" He smiled while I shuddered in disgust.

"Don't say dirt."

"Karla Outway. District 7, Lumber. Handy with a axe and she keeps to herself most of the time." Heming described but added in, "Her mentor is an old friend of mine. Same with District 2. If anything I'd get on their good sides and get yourself a proper alliance."

"Already on it Hem."


"She seems like a real winner doesn't she?" I rolled my eyes away from the 8 girl and back the the one sitting much too quite next to me. When no response came I exhaled in frustration and stood to face her, "Listen here! Don't sit here and act all like it's you against the world because it's not. All of us here rather be back home just as much as you do so don't pretend to be a silent unless that's part of your strategy." I know that was probably uncalled for and the poor girl didn't deserve the lecture but I was frustrated and the silence wasn't helping. Being raised in a career district, It wasn't like I was intimidated or didn't know what I was doing but I honestly didn't want to have to put my skills to use. But the odds just weren't in my favor this time around. The excess movement cause a strand of blonde hair to fall out of place and with an even more annoyed expression I angrily put it back in place.

"Sorry."

"Oh! She speaks! Listen want to tell me your name? Promise I don't bite."

She looked to the ground as if contemplating if she should answer but decided for it, "Xanthe Tomaline."

I whistled and commented on the name, "District 6 girl right? I'm Silver Flint."

She nodded while I rolled my eyes again at the familiar silence. Instead of taking any more of the torture I grabbed a hair brush that was waiting on a supply cart and sat down next to her.

"Whoever was in charge of your hair should be fired really." I demanded and began to brush out the horrible fixings that was a sad excuse for a trend.

"I think it looks better being natural."

Ripple Seagrace. The only other girl besides me who likes to socialize before getting into a arena of people who all want to kill one another. The two of us had formed a rather strange friendship after being the first districts to arrive in the Capitol. We were odd the two of us. I was reserved but hot tempered and she was eccentric, physically fit but a show-off. But I could tell that the two of us was about to become the three of us. Xanthe had weak confidence but a kind heart unlike most in the Games. But people like her don't make it very far in the fight for survival. I suppose there was something between the two of us that felt sorry and the need to try and protect her for as long as we could. Don't get us wrong, we are careers through and through but even we aren't so cold hearted. If she became a liability then we'd dump her in a second. If she tried anything then either Ripple or I could easily dispose of her. Another cannon and photo in the sky was all she would be. Sad isn't it?

"Ripple I think it would look better curled."

"Straight."

"Curled!"

"Straight is better Silver!"

"You control freak!"

The music roared from the stage as the audience began to applaud the MC's appearance. This year Francis Folly would be the interviewer as well as the media highlight for the 106th Hunger Games. His name should sound familiar seeing as he's the brother of the head game maker Faye Folly. We had no time to argue how Xanthe's hair should be styled as so with bitter defeat Ripple agreed to straight in accordance to time. We would soon be on that stage trying our best to be desirable and win the support of watchers but most importantly to be strong for those watching at home.

AN:/ This was just 3 short warm up pieces I wanted to try with the girls so far. It was more of a behind the scenes of their Interview as the girls get prepared and interact for some of the first times. It was also to get a ground of how I could improve how you see your characters. Things can and will be changed but there is so much more reaching out that can be done with these lovely ladies.