A/N: This chapter is also rather short, just because Aelia doesn't have any friends of any sort. Normally I find that a bit unrealistic in a character (in fact, if you submit a character that 'has no friends' or 'likes everyone' I'm pretty likely to just make up a friend in the name of realism) but it fits Aelia perfectly.

Just so ya know, I'm not actually here- I got a friend to post this for me. I'm actually on a weekend trip to my cousin-one-removed's wedding. So if you send in any PMs or reviews, don't expect any replies until Monday!

Hey, remember that ridiculously long wait you guys had for Ruby's chapter? Well, unless someone submits a character for District 4, and soon, that wait will happen again in just two weeks. I'm really not willing to skip to a District that is already full, so get working on those characters, guys!

Okay. Here's Aelia Degano. She's, as I said before, a very complicated character. Also, in my head her mother sounds like Linda from Bob's Burgers. Aelia belongs to the amazing TWGnome!

Aelia Degano, 17, D2

When I was younger, (immature and full of hormones and excited and somehow believing that despite the fact that I was still in middle school, I had already hit the peak of my life,) I would clamber to the roof every morning before training, find my balance, and watch the sun rise. In Two, where everything is gray, where fog rolls in daily and most people reluctantly use the term 'sky-gray' to replace the neglected 'sky-blue,' the sight of the sun coming over the hills and lighting up the clouds in pinks and oranges for ten minutes a day was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen.

I'm more mature than that now. Now, I just pull a comb through my choppy blond hair. Now, I just smush chapstick onto my lips. Now, I put on gym shorts and a hoodie and run downstairs for my morning jog.

…yesterday my father assessed my skills to see if he thought I was ready for the Games. He was up all night evaluating and going over his notes. I expect he'll tell me what he thinks this morning.

I walk into the kitchen to get some food for the morning and find him still sitting at the table, muttering to himself. I'm a little chagrined to find that he doesn't even acknowledge my presence. I feel a little bubble of self-doubt… what if he decides I'm not ready? I push it down. Whatever. I quickly eat an apple and walk out the door.

It's a half mile to the training center in this part of Two. It's not too long a jog. Some mornings I walk it for one reason or another, but today I jog and don't look back at the house even once.

As usual, I get there just as the attendants unlock the doors. They don't question me- I'm always here this early. It's better and easier to train when the place isn't clogged by people. I walk right in and past the table-filled social area into the gym.

According to my father, it's specifically designed to look exactly like the gym the official training for the Games will occur. I consider. I could work with the weights and get in a little strength training before the Games, or refresh on hand-to-hand combat. It only takes me a few seconds to stroll towards the weapons rack.

I slash up one or two dummies, but that's too easy. Silently, I beckon over one of the attendants. He works with me on nearly everything I do, but I never speak to him. I've heard him talking about me- he's half-convinced I'm mute. Fine with me. That way he never tries to talk to me.

He already knows the drill. He grabs a weapon and puts on an armorgel shirt. The first few times he tried to go easy on me, using only fencing techniques and rarely actually moving to attack me, but I fight hard, and he had to struggle just to defend himself. Now it's basically an actual fight, except we both know the signal to back off and stop.

Without warning, he launches at me, a low dive at my legs. I leap out of the way and spin on one foot to knock him down, but he struggles out from under me as I attack, and grabs me by the shoulders, driving me backwards.

On and on it goes. The other attendants don't even look up, our fight is so routine. The blond, braid-clad stocky girl who is here every morning is used to it as well; she continues shooting bullseyes without even blinking. Only a young boy, who looks around fourteen and probably won't volunteer for several years, is distracted by us. He keeps looking like he wants to come over and help me, but I believe the look on my face is warding him off.

Finally the attendant starts to wear down, and I can feel my own body getting tired as well. I help the attendant up and he pulls off the armorgel shirt; then he walks off and doesn't look back.

Funny to think he's the closest thing I have to a friend.

I pull off my own armorgel shirt (armorgel may be incredibly strong and good for defense, but it's also very hot and it doesn't breathe) and replace it with a cooldown shirt I keep in my gym locker. I do a few stretches on the wrestling mat, grab my armorgel shirt again, and go to leave.

It's not too long a jog back to the house, but several minutes are added when I have to fight through the crowd that gathered to meet the stocky blond girl when she finishes training. She must be such a ditz…

When I walk back in the door, I plan on going directly to meet my father, but my mother intercepts me before I can get to the kitchen.

"Aelia sweetheart!" she says. Normally my mother has incredibly sleek, impractically long blond hair, but every once in a while she'll pin it up and wear an expensive wig. Today, her hair is cyan and just barely reaches her chin.

"Yes, mother," I say patiently.

"Aww, why so serious sweetheart?" She puts two fingers under my chin and lifts it, and I sigh inwardly.

"What is it, mother?" I say.

"You gotta get your serious side from your daddy. I know it didn't come from me!" she says, and she giggles. I press my lips together, and she finally catches on to my impatience.

"Oh sweetheart, I'm sorry to hold you up. I just wanted to see what you thought about my wig, I'm wearing it for the Reapings you know…" she says.

I sigh. "It's lovely mother. All your wigs are."

"...and I wanted to say good luck. My baby girl going to the Games…" she coos, wrapping me in a hug. I stay perfectly still. I'm going to the Games? Is she just guessing? Did Father tell her that he'd decided I was ready?

…I can't think like this. Absolute confidence is key. I can't doubt myself, even for a second. Keep thinking about this and I'll crumble.

I avoid a second hug from Mother and walk into the kitchen. Father is still at the table, looking at me expectantly. I don't meet his eyes just for a moment, instead scanning the kitchen. Mother and Father ate breakfast without me, as usual; they know I eat before I go train. Quintus, skinny and scrawny and just barely ten, has pulled on semiformal Reaping clothes and is burning scrambled eggs for himself. He's largely ignored by our parents; he was an accident. I was supposed to be an only child.

As usual, I forcefully ignore Quintus, and sit down across from Father.

Father is tall, taller than me or anyone else I've ever met. He looks kindly, like he would be a religious leader of some sort. He has brown hair and small round blue eyes that belong on a fluffy dog. He's grown out the clean-shaven face I knew when I was just a child, to a full beard. When he had no beard, his employees used to come to him to get advice; now they come to confess their sins.

I really, really want him to let me volunteer for the games. I twitch and I feel the iron fist of guilt clamp around my heart and I plaster a forced smile on my face, but no matter how guilty I am it's still true. And that just makes me feel even worse.

I take a deep breath.

"Aelia. You're seventeen. You've matured a lot. You've trained your whole life. You're ready. You're ready to become a real person, a woman, and you're ready to go into the Games," my father says. My heart stops. I suck in air and feel my eyes water. Almost as an afterthought, Father puts a hand on my shoulder, and I melt into his reassuring touch.

Finally. Yes.

"Now, you're not yet totally mature, you're not yet a real person, and you're not yet a victor. But Aelia… you're well on your way. You've become a fine, Capitol-loyal citizen, capable of being independent," he says in his deep, rumbling voice and oh my goodness, this is real. This is real.

He gets up and leaves the room almost as though he doesn't understand the intense joy and emotion that has just come over me. It's so rare that I feel much of anything other than loyalty towards my father and total apathy, and this is such a big moment in my life, and… my goodness…

I calm myself as quickly as I can, and as I do Quintus sits down across from me, where Father was not long ago.

Quintus always feeds himself. In fact, he doesn't ever speak to anyone in the family, probably because he learned long ago that if he does we will ignore him. He has never been inside a training center in his life, partially because he's not the type of kid to train, but partially also because no one ever bought him a membership.

When his grade cards come in the mail, Mother throws them away like the typical spam mail. I read them once. He had straight A's, but one teacher commented on the fact that when she told the kids to get homework help from their parents, he responded that his parents hadn't spoken to him in over a year. She was considering talking to someone about the community home. Either Quintus got smart and never mentioned Mother and Father ignoring him again, or she just never followed through, because not a single Peacekeeper ever showed up to explore our relationship with Quintus.

Sometimes I want to comfort or pity him, but I made that bed years ago. I ignore him like Mother and Father. And I can't doubt myself now…

I stand to leave. I decide to go upstairs and change into my Reaping clothes. I find a white button-up blouse with long sleeves, black pants that I wore to my grandfather's funeral a few months ago and that are now too short, and some boots. Simple enough clothes and fairly practical, not to mention that I wouldn't mind probably leaving them in the Capitol forever when they change us into the parade clothes.

I walk to the Reapings square about fifteen minutes early, though many people are already there. It takes me only a few seconds to get my finger pricked, and then I enter the seventeens section, only to be shoved between a tall, dark girl who looks disdainful and a childish girl who has her strawberry-blond hair up in pigtails. I doubt either of them will volunteer. Well, two down, a thousand to beat out in the battle to enter the Games.

A tiny woman walks up to the podium. She wears a red peacoat and, creatively, red tights with a white skirt and pumps. Her hair is large and fluffy white, but her makeup is mostly red and her skin is almost totally covered in white makeup. Certainly a good endeavor for a theme color. At least it's better than three years ago, when the Capitol assigned each escort an animal to theme her outfit after. That was a disaster.

She announces herself as Cherry and gives us a tired smile before walking back and allowing the mayor to come up to the podium. He was elected only a few years ago, mainly because he was the only candidate on the ballot that everyone actually recognized. He was optimistic and confident back then. His frequent interaction with the Capitol and Peacekeepers has made him frazzled and insecure and twitchy.

People like Cherry and the people who made the mayor that way are the two kinds of people I hate. Capitol citizens like Cherry are nationalistic morons who have no understanding of the world they live in. Overbearing, aggressive, threatening Capitol officials and Peacekeepers, meanwhile, have broken the system. The whole thing is basically a feudal system, but with the Peacekeepers acting as an objective outside force to keep things safe and equal. It needs new leadership and new morals. And if possible, at least a few new citizens.

I shake myself out of my distraction and return my attention to the Reapings. The mayor has just finished his speech and Cherry stands at the podium once more, now on a small stool. "Time for the first name," she announces without gusto, and reaches into the bowl. She digs just for a second. "Madeleine Letterford," she says.

I take a deep breath. I shut my eyes.

"I, Aelia Degano, volunteer," I say, surprised slightly at how calm my voice came out. Cherry beckons me up.

I walk up to the stage, feeling as though this isn't real. It won't hit me till later. I look through the crowd until my eyes land on my father. I can't see his mouth through his beard from this far away, but his eyes are smiling. I turn as quickly as possible to stop from being overcome.

Cherry glances at me once, twice, nose slightly wrinkled, then pulls another name out of the Reaping bowl. "Rain Quench!" she announces.

Everyone is silent, for once. The blond braid-clad girl who trains every morning walks up to the stage. I frown. This ditz with the false friends has been reaped? Why isn't anyone volunteering for her? What- was she chosen to volunteer?

Out of the corner of my eye I catch movement. I see a girl running towards the stage, mouth open to volunteer. But she makes a fatal mistake- her hand lands on the stage, and Rain Quench digs her heel directly into the girl's hand. A crack is distinctly audible.

For a second, there is a tension in the air- everyone is silent, waiting to see if someone else will try the same trick.

"Rain Quench and Aelia Degano, everyone. District Two's tributes this year," Cherry announces halfheartedly. Rain makes eye contact with me for the first time. I grab her hand and shake it firmly. I want her to know that I'm not scared of her.

The Peacekeepers escort us into the Justice Building as quickly as possible.

First my mother and father come in. My mother flutters around me, cooing over my newfound tribute status until my father asks for a word alone with me.

He pats my shoulder again and his eyes crinkle up in a friendly way. "You're well on your way to being a real person, Aelia."

I nod. He leaves and I stand straight and tall, ready for whomever else may come in.

Quintus opens the door, then turns and shuts it as carefully and quietly as possible behind me.

I stand still. I keep my posture good.

He strides across the room towards me. When Mother and Father aren't here he always looks a little more self-confident, like he truly can make it on his own. Something jangles in his pocket- he holds it out to me. A silver necklace.

"Father's the most important person to you, yes?" he says quietly. "This was the last thing he gave to you. I figured that you would want it."

I take it from Quintus silently. He stands there for several moments.

I want, sort of, to comfort him. The want is stronger now that he's actually spoken to me and tried to help me and tried to be nice even though I've ignored him for as long as Mother and Father have (a long time) but I resist. I stand still. I focus on keeping my posture perfect.

He stares at his hands in his pockets, then the floor and then he closes his eyes. He turns around slowly and leaves.

…I can't doubt myself…

…even for a second…

A/N: Up next- Gigabyte Data! She had a little less information about her in her form so she's a lot more 'my own character,' though of course the core of her character is still the same.

Remember to review and PM lots of characters, guys!

Que tenga un buen dia,

-Phannie