Juliette Starmite, District 3 Girl POV

"Up! Get up!" I heard the shrill voice of my escort through my closed door. What a way to wake up. Groggily, I halfheartedly threw my pillow at the door before realizing it was still closed. I thought she would have opened it. Sighing, I realized that I wasn't doing anyone any good just laying here, so I untangled myself from the sheets before heading into the bathroom. A real bathroom, too, not just plain ones. Fully stocked ones, complete with a walk-in shower and luxury soaps that were probably from District One.

The walls were a beautiful green color, painted like some pictures of the ocean I had seen when they passed through District Four on our way to the Capitol. What many people didn't know is that District Four is actually closer to the Capitol that District Three, but in such a place that we got name District Three. Meaning that if you looked at a map, we were to the left of District Four, but directly above District Six. One was above Two, Two was above Four, which is to the right of Three, Four is above Five, which is to the right of District Six, Five is above Seven, Seven above Eight, Nine, Ten, Eleven, Twelve. I excelled in geography class.

I turned on the shower, not caring if I missed breakfast. The steam fogged up the glass, and I decided to get in. Warm water felt wonderful, and I probably stayed in there for too long. When you're on a train that has an endless supply of hot water, you tend to go overboard.

Once the water was off, I gently towel-dried my hair and put it in a ponytail. I got dressed in a midnight blue t-shirt and real denim jeans, then used a little makeup, which my mom would never have let me do. I figured my prep team would take it off, anyways. I picked up the pillow, tossed it onto my bed, and opened the door. I was ready for anything they might throw at me. Except for the Reapings. I didn't want to watch my reaction and know what was going on inside my head. We went to sleep early so we could get up early, in order to get up before arriving at the Capitol.

"Morning, everyone." I said, eyeing the breakfast on the table.

"Morning, Juliette. How'd you sleep?" asked one of our mentors, Hoptel Dabbs. She was a skinny thing, victor of the 19th Hunger Games.

"Good." I said. Actually, that was far from the truth. My dreams had been littered with monsters, mutations and bloodthirsty tributes from past Games. But I didn't want to weigh anyone down with my nightmares.

Sitting down at the table, I noticed only four of the five members of our group were present. I was here, Hoptel was here, our other mentor Peter was here, and our escort Tivia was here. Jack, however, was not present. I shook my head. He always was one for sleeping in. Speak of the devil, and he shall appear. Jack Sandstorm walked into the room, looking like he had just been sentenced to die. I mentally checked myself. He had been sentenced to die.

"Hi." I said plainly. We had been friends since we were ten, the year after…a friend left. A year of finishing each other's thoughts made us able to understand everything the other is feeling with just one word. After a year, I started hanging out with other people, and we gradually melted apart. I became well-liked, almost popular. He became anti-social, almost goth.

"Nightmares?" he whispered under the scraping of forks on plates. I nodded. He reached over and rubbed my hand. "It'll be alright." I nodded again. I knew that Jack would protect me in the arena, that's just the way he is. He's never said anything, but I have a feeling that he feels something more. I just don't know what I feel. I still remember that friend. I was only nine, almost ten. It wasn't fair.

Breakfast went quickly, and just when I thought last night's dinner couldn't compare to anything, I lied. Breakfast was even better. "So," started Hoptel, out of the blue. "I'd like to know. Do you two want to be coached separately or together?"

A quick glance at Jack confirmed my answer. "Together." we said at the same time.

"Good. That makes it easier. Do either of you have any special skills?" Peter asked.

"Yeah, I can use a dagger." I said immediately. I became skilled in the art of the dagger when someone broke into my family's house and…a friend taught me how to use weapons. Although it was determined that I failed horrifically with a bow and arrow, I'm now able to use a dagger to cut off someone's head, circulation, or pierce the heart in less than four seconds. I was timed by…a friend.

Jack smirked. I knew he was remembering the time when I was home alone and he came in without knocking. I almost killed him before I actually looked at his face. "Yeah. She can. I vouch for that." I kicked him in the leg. Hard. "Ow, Juliette!"

"Sorry." I said innocently.

He sighed. "I'm good with throwing things. Spears, daggers, knives, anything to be thrown."

"That's just fine. You guys can improve on your talents in the Training Center. One thing to be aware of: save your best for the Gamemakers. Don't let anyone but us know what you're really good at." Hoptel cautioned us. "Now, since we skipped the Reapings last night, we'll have enough time this morning to go over them."

As if he was lurking around the corner, and he probably was, an attendant appeared. "Three hours until we arrive in the Capitol. Do you require anything?"

"No." said Peter. "We'll be okay." The attendee left, and Tivia turned on the TV. Hoptel had somehow produced a notebook and pen, and wrote 'District One' across the top of the first page. I watched all of the children who were going to die, the Careers from One, Two, and Four, Jack and I from Three, the average children from Five, Six, Eight, and Nine, the strong ones from Seven and Ten, and one emaciated child from Eleven. The other child from Eleven, Ivy, I think was her name, looked strong and tough. I wanted her on my side.

"Hoptel, can you make a note next to Ivy? I want her as an ally." I asked. Jack vigorously nodded his head in agreement. Hoptel's pen flew across the page one more time, and then stopped, in acknowledgement of our request. It looked like everyone was on the same page. Ivy was one to be on her good side.

It was District Twelve that caught my eye. The girl tribute looked fierce. "Katerina Thorne!" was called up to the stage. "I'm honored to be here." she said.

"Now, for the boy tribute!" Freesia Canterlin's hand swirled around the bowl exactly four times before picking a piece of paper. "The boy tribute is…" she paused for dramatic effect. "Ben Embers!" And that was when my whole world came crashing down. Ben was in the Hunger Games? My Ben? No, it had to be someone else. But his last name was Embers, and those dark, almost black eyes…it had to be him. I thought he was dead, I thought he left me. I lost my only friend when I was nine, and he was my only friend. He's alive. But he's going to be dead. I tried to tell myself it didn't matter, he was probably changed, and I thought he was dead anyways. It didn't matter. It didn't matter. It didn't matter.

But it did.

Marissa Lionheart, District 4 Girl POV

I felt the train come to a gentle, lulling stop and saw the Capitol citizens cheering outside, elated that another District's tributes had arrived. I climbed out, waving happily to them, smiling and putting on my best face. According to my reason for volunteering, I did it for the glory. The fame. The money. But I thought of what I had gotten myself into and wished I'd let Azure go instead. She wouldn't know Dad. She wouldn't have to face him.

My messed up family. My messed up family, who I think of every second. My mother, Bay Quaid, scarred but remarried. My step-father, Beck Quaid, a doctor and a great father, unlike the one I never had. My step-sister Skylynn, who has always hated me on the outside but broke down when I volunteered for Azure. Remus and Romulus, my brothers who are twins, and remember Dad before he left. Caspian, my brother who also remembers Dad, who tells me about him, who hangs out with me, the only sibling I ever really trusted. Azure, my sweet, beautiful, innocent step-sister who is getting married in three months. The girl I volunteered for. My half-sister Annabeth, who follows in Skylynn's footsteps of dislike, but cannot stop hating me and will be childishly happy if I die. My half-siblings Millie and Brady, only the cutest and kindest children that ever lived.

My father, Callum Lionheart, victor of the 2nd Hunger Games, lives on the other side of town in the Victor's Village with his new wife and new kids, who just add to my mixed-up life. It didn't really help clear my thoughts when my dad volunteered to mentor these Games. They didn't make such a big deal out of it because I had never lived in the Victor's Village, nor been introduced to the press. He left when I was little, too little to know the outside world, or even just him.

"C'mon, kiddo. Move it along, your prep team is waiting for you inside." my dad said in his gruff voice. Although he may seem unfriendly at first, I could tell he was trying to make up for never being there, never being a dad. He was trying to guide me. When Moray and I decided we wanted to be coached separately, my dad volunteered to mentor me instead of Moray. Loraine, the other mentor, is now stuck with Moray, who looked like he'd never had a day of training in his life.

As soon as I was in the Remake Center, Floor Four, my eager prep team gathered around me. "Ooh, look at her nails! Have they ever been properly manicured?"

"Her complexion! She's so tan, she's almost burnt." said the man, who had purple skin and bright blue tattoos.

"And this hair!" One of the ladies fingered my long brown ringlets. "It has to go. I'd say shoulder-length, and straighten it out, too."

"No!" I pulled away from them. "Leave me be! Aren't you just here to dress me up?"

The lady who was now once again focused on my nails said "No, darling, that's your stylist's job. Magnificence won't like it, not one bit. Something just has to be done with these nails! Bitten, worn, what have you done to them?"

"Now, now." cautioned the man. "We've been rude, Shaylia! I'm Opulous, this is Shaylia, and this-" he motioned to the woman who wanted to cut my beautiful hair. "-is Breecia. We're your prep team!" They began to work on my body, ordering me to strip down. When I hesitated, Opulous just said "We're going to see it anyways, darling. Just do it." I did.

Shaylia set right to work manicuring my nails, painting delicate ocean waves on a sunset background. It was hard to believe that it was possible to get that kind of accuracy on such a small canvas.

Opulous smothered my face in something yellowy called honey. He then made me get in a bath of some sort which almost scalded me, but succeeded in removing all of my body hair except for my eyebrows, which were then painfully waxed.

Breecia refrained from cutting my hair, but instead ran a straightening iron through my bangs, the only thing I would let her touch. She sprayed some kind of mist in my hair and fluffed it with a gel. She said my curly hair and straight bangs had "wonderful complementation of each other."

After that, they mostly talked to me about parties and how Elia did this and Shonyn said this to her and then she went and told Nivia who called Asius and told him what they did who broke up with Rainie.

A quiet creak of a door was heard as a lady entered the room. Tall and graceful, she looked to be about thirty-three, maybe a little younger. "Thank you, Shaylia, Opulous, Breecia." she said. "You can go now. You've done an excellent job."

They blushed in embarrassment. "Aw, it was nothing!" said Shaylia.

"Our pleasure!" added Breecia.

"Bye, darling!" Opulous winked at me and left the room.

The lady smiled as if she was watching a child play in the snow. "They're so naïve, aren't they?" she asked me. "I'm Magnificence, your stylist. Your prep team did a great job, but I'm afraid there's something we're going to have to do."

"What?" I asked, almost afraid. If it was something my prep team didn't already do, I'd be surprised.

"We've got to get that hair cut."

"NO!" I almost shouted. My hands instinctively flew to my hair. "You're not cutting my hair."

"Just an inch."

"No. Not any hair. None. Zip. Zilch. Nada."

"Just an inch. You won't even notice it!"

"But I'll know it's missing, I'll know it's shorter!"

"Just an inch, darling. Please."

"No."

"A half inch?"

"No."

"Just one ringlet?"

"No."

"Can I put it in a bun?"

There was a pause as I debated this. "I suppose so. But you can't cut any of it."

"Alright." Magnificence went to work, just like my prep team, her skillful hands twisting through my hair, hefting it up into a bun, leaving one ringlet hanging on each side. Instructing me to close my eyes, she lowered a light, airy fabric over my body. I felt something, a necklace, probably, go around my neck, and things on my arms. Something was dropped in front of me that made a clunking noise, then I was misted again, but this time the mist was good-smelling.

"Open, but don't look in the mirror. Slip into your shoes first. Then look." she said.

I did so, and looked in the mirror. A goddess looked back at me. I realized that my costume was drawing on an ancient legend from a civilization known as Greek. Their goddess Aphrodite was said to be born from the sea. I was wearing a silver toga with shades of blue, green, and gold shimmering in it, and when I moved, it looked like the waves of the ocean. My shoes were flats, made of the same fabric rouched at the top. A blue gem drop necklace fell perfectly into the hollow of my throat, and gold and silver bangles lined my arms. The bun with a ringlet on each side of my face completed the look.

Breaking the spell, Magnificence said "Your District partner is Poseidon. You're Aphrodite, if you haven't figured it out."

I was unable to respond, stunned at the beautifulness of my costume, yet the simplicity of it. "It's perfect." I whispered. "Perfect."

Sayria Nell, District 7 Girl POV

I twirled twice, gaping at myself in the mirror. I looked like a fairy. Correction, like a wood sprite. My stylist Livette was a genius. For the past eight years, every tribute from District Seven has been dressed as a tree. Obviously, Livette was new, and she brought her new ideas to our District.

I had on a floor-length ballroom gown with a sweetheart neckline. It was deep chocolate brown, with green swirls that somewhat resembled branches all across it, back to front. The sleeves that connected to the bodice were long and draping past my arms on the bottom. My normally short black hair had wavy extensions in it, making my hair tumble down to the middle of my back. My shoes looked like they were made of leaves, but in reality it was just a crinkly green fabric over a high heel. Fuchsia and dark green ribbons trailed down from a thin headband over my hair. My whole outfit sparkled with glitter.

"Thank you, Livette." I said, spinning once more.

She simply smiled in response, and held out a wand. Or at least, I assumed it was a wand. It was a wooden stick, with a hollow star shape at the end. It, too, had fuchsia and green ribbons hanging off of it. I took it, fingering it delicately. I raised my arm to wave it and Livette's hand shot out, holding it steady.

"Ah, ah, ah." she said. "Don't wave it until you're halfway through, you'll be in front of the marble statue of our founders, and it will be where the crowd starts curving to the left. By that time, District Nine will have just left the hold."

"Okay," I said, assuming she had a good reason. Over the past half hour Livette and I had spent together, we had become good friends. Even though she was from the Capitol, she didn't have the accent and she was one of the kindest people I'd ever met. Although her whimsical personality was perfectly reflected in my sprite costume, she had a sense of herself that was refreshing. In the only two places I've ever been, District Seven and the Capitol, I had yet to find someone like her. "Thanks again."

"It's my job. Now come on, we'd better get going." She put her hand to her ear, where an earpiece was. "District One is prepping for takeoff."

I smiled. Livette was on top of things. She hurried me out through the hallway, and into the elevator, where she put on the finishing touch to my outfit: my district token. A small gold pendant given to me by Jane, the little girl I volunteered for. I took her under my wing when the kids at school teased her. One threat and they shut up. Since then, she has hung out with me every day, and is the one thing that keeps me going on hard days. She's only twelve, and didn't even have any slips in for tesserae. I did.

My parents would have never let me sign up, but they're gone, and there's nothing I can do about it. My brother, who is twenty-six, is laid off from his lumber job and is currently trying his hand at building things, but hasn't gotten very far yet. We needed tesserae. I faced the fact that I would probably be in the games, seeing as I am seventeen and have had tesserae slips since I was thirteen.

Shaking away the grim thoughts that came with the grim day, I composed my face in time to step out of the elevator and meet my District partner, Stark. He seemed too composed, too calm. He was too…creepy. I was, to be truthful, afraid of him, and he was only thirteen. There were a lot of thirteen year olds in the Games this year. Both of the tributes from Three were thirteen, both of the tributes from District Ten were thirteen, and the girl was going to turn fourteen in a few days. What an unlucky time to have a birthday. Stark was thirteen, and the boy from Twelve was thirteen.

I almost laughed out loud when I saw Stark's costume. He was a wood sprite just like me, but looked like a guy pixie. He had on a brown hat with a small cylinder like brown material sticking out of it, just like a pixie hat. His shirt was dark green, almost brownish, and his pants were knee length brown pants that were jagged at the bottom. His shoes were brown, and curled over at the top. For his "wand," he had a small branch that still had leaves on it. He did look very handsome, for a thirteen year old.

"Alright, final makeup." said Stark's stylist, a man who looked to be about sixty. "Hi, Sayria, I'm Jack." He held out his hand. "Nice to meet you." It turned out that both Livette and Jack had been working together for five years in another District, but requested District Seven when our stylists retired this year.

Jack powdered my face, and added some glitter lotion to it, and when they allowed me to look in the mirror, my face sparkled just like my dress. I had dark pink eye shadow on, along with something black that made my eyelashes appear longer. Stark didn't get much makeup, just a little bit of blush so his face didn't seem pale among the bright lights.

Our escort, a plump man named Seth, bustled over and seemed to be listening to an earpiece similar to Livette's. "Let's get this show on the road!" he said. I climbed up onto the golden chariot, artfully decorated with braches, leaves, vines, and ribbons. Stark climbed up on my right, and we sat in the seat, waiting until we were near the entrance to stand up. As the chariot slowly rolled forward, we got little notes from everyone walking alongside us.

"Don't forget the wands!" Livette shouted over the roar of the Capitol crowd.

"And wave!" added Jack.

"Smile like you're actually happy, Stark!" said Seth. We all laughed, even Stark, who seemed to take the insult slash hint very good naturedly.

"Will do!" he said. And then we were out. We stood up, smiling for all we were worth and waving. The crowd oohed and aahed at my dress, and cheered for Jack's spritelike qualities. I edged closer to Jack, using his short demeanor to my advantage. His shoulder only reached up to my elbow, and I put my arm around him. Noticing that we were halfway, I squeezed his shoulder.

"Wave."

And we waved our wands for all we were worth, which was nothing to the Capitol. I waved mine eloquently, as if I was presiding as queen over the forests of my District. He waved his a little awkwardly, as if not quite sure what to do with it. All of the sudden, without any warning like a warming of the wands, or a small noise, our wands sparked. Pink sparks shot out of mine, green out of Jack's. They were big, long sparks, taunting the Capitol crowd as they went all the way to the stands, then fizzled.

They cheered even louder, elated that we had made such a big appearance. Some threw roses onto our chariot. Some shouted "Bravo! Bravo District Seven!" "I love you Sayria!" "Jack!" Glancing for the first time at the big screen, I noticed we were competing for time with a few different scenes. Districts Two and Three were big competitors, and they were showing District Four equally as much as us. They showed each District as they came out, but always came back to Districts Three, Four, or Seven.

Three's tributes were dressed in some sort of electrical getup. The girl, whose name was Juliette, if I remember, was dressed in a slim dress that was laced with glowing wires. The boy, Jack, had on a similar suit. They made a dazzling appearance. I smiled slightly to myself at the joke. Dazzling, electrical, District Three. I smiled wider, and the crowd cheered louder.

Four's tributes looked like something I vaguely remembered from an old myth. Something about an ancient civilization's gods and goddesses…oh, yeah! Aphrodite and Poseidon. Greek gods. Poseidon was god of the sea, and Aphrodite was said to be born from the waves. Marissa did look like a wave. Her dress was more like a toga, and was the exact color of the sea I had seen while passing through District Four. The boy, Moray, just looked like royalty, as king of the sea. Well, we all had our own domains, I thought, smiling yet again at an ironic costume choice.

Districts One and Two had the gem/expensive fabric thing going on as usual, Districts Five and Six both went for the "doctor/nurse" look, District Nine had a rural charm look, Ten was dressed up in ragged clothing, nothing memorable, and Eleven's tributes had on orange suits that were meant to represent vegetables, I think. Twelve had their kids dressed up like coal miners, though neither tribute seemed very happy, which was understandable.

District Eight's tributes were dressed in what can only be described as a mix of fabrics. The sleeves were fuzzy looking, the top was silky, the bottom looked to be cotton, and their shoes were made of a material I had never seen. It was kind of funny. The boy seemed to go along with it, being very amiable and playing the crowd. The girl, however, I think her name was Aubrie, was staring daggers behind her, probably at her stylist. Her hands were twitching as if she wanted to grab a weapon right now. She most likely did.

I felt sorry for her, and shot her a glance. To my surprise, she softened, and her look read "Thanks. Thank you so much. Can we talk later?" It was amazing how much a single look from her could convey. She was still…mad, but at least waved to the crowd for the rest of the time.

When we finally got off the chariot, I was hustled to the elevator by Seth, Livette, and Jack. They were telling me how great I was, and how great Stark was. I really tuned them out. The last thing I saw before the elevator doors closed was Aubrie, still in her hideous outfit, mouth "Allies?"

And the last thing I did before they closed was nod my head.


A/N: Sayria and Aubrie...? You'll have to wait and see! :D So, I hope you liked that chapter, please review, because you all know how happy that makes me. Besides, I fixed the review button and it doesn't bite anymore.

DG has two important things to say.

1) DG would like a beta! Only request is that the beta not mind DG's erratic updating schedule.

2) DG would like the creator of Saul Roman Giovanni to message her with the tribute sheet because she lost it. D: If you can't find it, you can make a new one. I don't even know who you are because I lost your username too... Sorry! Whoever you are, you get an extra 20 sponsor points because I'm such a jerk.

Anyways, I'll leave you to review now! Don't forget to check out the forum for this story for sponsor point tallies (which I am updating today) and discussions. Posts get you five points each. May the odds be ever in your favor.

~DG~