PLEASE READ AUTHOR'S NOTE: Hi guys! I want you all to know I'm getting sick of writing reapings, so the rest of the tribute introductions will be on the trains. After that, it will alternate POVs from all different Districts. Also, before you all start saying I'm copying Chocolatiee, she gave me her permission. Now, for the moment you've all been waiting for, sorta!

(Aver Genie D6)

My eyes scan the elegant train cart wildly. How luxurious it all was, with its polished marble floors, elaborately carved tables, and bright lighting. For certain people, it would whisk away their terror, discomfort, and anger of the situation. But not for me.

My male counterpart, Carter Rollings, doesn't seem to be sold either. His eyes stare blankly ahead with disdain. It's not really a surprise. District Six tributes usually are keen thinkers, and Carter and I are no exception.

I don't speak much as I slide into a cushioned mahogany chair, in front of the dining table. Alejandro Anath, a man heavily representing a monarch butterfly orders a young girl in a white suit to bring in a light lunch. A few others clad in white swiftly drop napkins into our laps, and little by little, our meals begins to appear. I feel my eyes widen, staring at the heap of food on my plate. Pasta smothered in white sauce, spiced chicken ringing along the sides. I can't help but gulp it down. I've never had such delicacies, living in a family on the border of District Six.

Carter and I are introduced our mentors once our stomachs are full. There's one male, and one female, perfect for the both of us.

Cynrae Harrdock, a blond-haired woman with sharp features and square glasses eyes me with her brow raised. She won the Games at least ten years ago when she was eighteen by creating poison concoctions that she dipped blow darts into, tracking down tributes in the dead of night. I admire her spirit, but I myself have never wielded a weapon. Relying on my intelligence is rather risky, as smart as I may be.

Carter and his mentor, Daxen leave the cart to strategize, and Cynrae finally speaks.

"Aver Genie, what can you do?" she asks, giving me her calculating stare yet again. I clear my throat before speaking, mind racing.

"I'm rather intelligent," I begin, " and I know survival as well as any Career knows weapons. I'm quick, too, but I can't attack well at all." I pray I don't sound to full of hubris.

Cynrae's gaze shifts to one of curiosity.

"Well, we have something to work with considering the Quell this year." she muses.

I give a curt nod, hoping she will dismiss me. Just a few moments to be alone, for everything to sink in would be wonderful.

"We'll speak more tomorrow. For now, you are free to wander the train."

I stumble along the train until I am directed to my room by a Capitol attendant. Swinging open the door and plopping onto the bed in a heap, I begin to cry into the comforter. My moments of strength are over. The silky covers become stained with tears, and I force myself to sob silently. It takes a few minutes to gain control of my body.

I think of my family. What are they doing right now? My brothers, Slayter and Mic, are most likely prepping the family dinner they will pick at in a cold, sad silence in a few hours. I could almost picture it, I could almost hear their voices…

Then my fingers trail to the woven wool anklet. It wasn't much really, but everyone in my family had one. Never had a piece of fading fabric meant so much to me. It reminded me of our goodbye in the Justice Building. The tight group hug we share, Slayter pinching my arm until I said I'd give everything I had to come back.

I forced my self to perch on the edge of the bed, straightening my hunched shoulders. After fiddling with the television, it finally gives me a vibrant recap of the reapings. The tributes of Districts One and Two are terrifying as always, but is there a brain under those hard skulls? I'm reminded also of how much of an advantage intelligence is this year. Finding the Gamemakers office is crucial for me. So who would be an ally just as full of brilliance as I am?

Carter Rollings.

(Carter Rollings D6)

I know my eyes are beet red by the way they all stare at me. You're female counterpart is showing much more determination than you! I can almost hear them snap indifferently. As I glance around the train cart, angry tears threaten to stream down my face. The cart looks like my home, in all its luxury. I can picture my little brother Kolbie setting the table with our gleaming metal silverware. But instead, it's a white coated young girl.

The male mentor, a brute named Daxen, looks angered to see me. We don't have many strong tributes from District Six, and by the way he looks at me, I know he's already gathered that I'm weak. Will intelligence ever be appreciated, even among a District known for it's intelligence?

A decadent lunch is ordered by our escort, even nicer than what I'm accustomed to. I try to eat as much as I can. Hopefully I can gain a few pounds before I enter the arena. Oh, God, the arena.

I manage to steal a glance at my District partner. She's skinny and petite, but I guess it's from lack of food more than bone structure. Her hair is red and wavy, which makes the impression of tongues of fire. Eccentric looking, a possible personality to play up for the cameras. As of right now, she seems quiet and reserved, like me. I'm happy to not have someone who wants to rip my limbs apart.

Aver and the female mentor are speaking about abilities and strategy, so Daxen takes me into a room with plush couches and a large flat screen television, bigger than the one I have at my home. We both take seats across from each other.

"Please tell me this wimpy kid look is for the cameras." he says gruffly. It takes me a second for it to sink in, and I'm a little stunned.

"Um…no sir." I mutter.

Daxen gives me a disdainful look and flicks on the television. A large, muscular boy is on screen, his voice booming as he volunteers.

"Look at that. Now that's a winner. Berrin Mercer could annihilate you. Can you at least do anything?" Daxen asks, grunting.

"Well…" my voice trails, until I think of something, "I'm smart, and I have a good memory."

"You're hopeless. You better pick up something!" he shouts as the door slams behind him.

Oh, fuck. He's right. What could I do against anyone? Feed them my A+ tests until they choke? I give a couple sobs, and I'm crying again. Then the door opens slightly, revealing Aver. I vigorously wipe my eyes, hoping the tears are now unnoticeable.

"It's okay," she says quietly, " I was crying too." I then noticed her eyes, brimmed red.

"Oh." Is all I can choke out.

"I was umm…wondering if you had thought of any alliances." she says in her barely audible tone. It's clear both of us aren't exactly masters of charisma. But then I realise what she said.

"You, want me…as an ally?" I stutter in disbelief. She nods.

"We're both smart. We should both be able to find one of the Gamemaker's offices, and if we do that…"

I already know the answer. If we do that, we could kill anyone. Anyone!

"You…you have yourself a deal."

And then a flicker of hope bursts through me. Focusing on my pros, not my cons, is what I need to do. Then, maybe, just maybe, I can show Daxen strength isn't everything.