A/N- Hey there, so I've finally got this chapter done. It didn't take too long actually, yay. So, these last three chapters include ten 500 word POVs, so the length of each chapter is still more or less the same length. I'm just trying to establish some relationships here, expand some story lines and establish where people sit in the whole fight/no fight situation. I hope the writing in this is okay, it's kinda difficult working with 10 different characters in one chapter, but I think I did okay. Enough rambling. Enjoy!

The Time is Coming: Lead up, Part 1

Chase Finch, D5, 21 years old, Tribute Sixteen

"So- we- just...do nothing?"

Chase suddenly felt like one of the naive children, with the way everyone looked at him, their eyes glaring at him as if he wasn't wise enough to speak. He cleared his throat and awkwardly shifted in his seat. He felt like he had asked a perfectly sound question. Doing literally nothing seemed too simple. He wanted to start a fight, a protest; he wanted to destroy the Capitol in any way possible. He wanted to do something! Anything! But they were doing nothing, literally. It wasn't very exciting. Quite disappointing, actually, but he wasn't about to go against the plan. After all, it was the senior soldiers who knew what they were doing. He was just there to do as he was told.

Then again, he'd never been very good at that before.

"Have you got a problem with that?" Volten asked, his nostrils flaring as he spoke.

Chase was quick to shake his head in denial. "No, no, not at all. I'm not about to get in there and murder you guys. Of course not. I was just...making sure."

So far, they had at least half the tributes on board with the plan, even if they had their doubts, they agreed they would not pull a weapon on anyone. They were yet to speak with the other half, but from the agreeable expressions they already had on their faces, he was sure they'd soon have everyone's agreement.

If someone, for some reason, went against the rebels, they would kill them, but they would kill them as a team; twenty-something against one. It was easy. It was flawless.

It still wasn't half as satisfying as putting a bullet through a dictators head. That would have been so much more rewarding and successful for the rebel movement. Yet again, it wasn't up to him.

Chase glanced back at Willow. She was still asleep, lying against the wall. Many of them were still asleep. The sun still hadn't completely risen. A red-orange glow illuminated through the window and gave the cell an interesting atmosphere. Back at home, if he had been awake at this time, he would have climbed out of his window and he would have convinced Dygit to go to the abandoned power plant with him to watch the sunrise. It would have been romantic, and every woman liked romance. However soppy it was. He would have done absolutely anything to win Dygit over, especially now his idiot-brother also wanted her. He hated that guy, even more-so now he and Willow had been thrown into this situation.

Chase looked back at Volten and the others. They had already started an all new area of conversation. It didn't have much to do with these games. Still, he stayed where he was. He had to find a way to protect him and Willow and, to do that, he needed every inch of knowledge he could get.

He was all for this 'no kill protest' thing, but his main goal was to protect the two of them.

Whatever the cost.

Gail W. Sampson, D2, 41 years old, Tribute Two

Keeping quiet seemed to be the best option.

Gail sat with Geof in the corner of the cell, neither man saying a word to each other. There wasn't really anything for him to say until the games began, when his role in this 'game' really stepped into place.

Volten could say what he liked, but Gail knew the truth. He and Geof had to ensure the fighting would commence. He had to kill as many of them as possible, and he knew that once the two of them began to kill, everyone else would soon follow their lead through their fear and desperation. It was how the human mind worked. They would all join the fight to the death eventually. The majority of them would have to kill someone, maybe even a friend.

At the end of the day, it would be Gail who would come out on top. He was sure of it. Victory meant his freedom. He could escape the Capitol and get his life back again. Maybe he could make something better of his life, he did not know. He just wanted to get the hell out of there. He had spent enough time cooped up in a Capitol prison cell, surrounded by rainbow-haired and heavily tattooed freaks. He did not belong there. He hated it.

He glanced at the younger man beside him. Geof was messing with a piece of rope, weaving it in and out of his fingers. Gail could almost see the thoughts spiralling around in the young boys mind. He knew nothing about the boy, but they were practically on the same page as each other. They had both made a deal with the Capitol.

Gail had found it rather odd when he heard the boy agree to start the killing, he wouldn't have expected someone so young being so content with the prospect of killing those older than him, especially when they were, supposedly, on the same side. Of course, the boy was just saving his own skin, quite like Gail was, but Geof had agreed without even flinching. He was a brave young man, that was clear to tell, and Gail somewhat respected him for that. He would not kill him, not at the get-go anyway. He would wait for someone else to kill him and, seeing as the boy would be killing their friends, he was sure someone would kill him eventually.

Gail had been working out who would be his first target. The younger girls such as Willow, Angora, and Zoey, would have been easy choices, but Gail didn't want to kill those young girls. He pitted them and, as much as he wouldn't admit it, he always had a soft spot for younger girls. Older men like Mercer and Brey would also be easy targets, but something about that option didn't seem completely right either.

He guessed he would just have to wait and see. Perhaps in the heat of the moment he would kill anyone who would get in his way, including those young girls. He hoped that would be the case.

He had to kill.

Reyna Hallow, D2, 30 years old, Tribute Seven

She didn't trust any of them.

They were all just rebel idiots who fought against a benevolent Capitol. They were all just as bad as her sister and her husband. They should have been punished instead of her. She hadn't done anything wrong. She had always been loyal to the Capitol. It was ridiculous that this was even happening to her, but she forgave the Capitol, it wasn't their fault she had been mistaken for her sister. They were very alike.

Perhaps it would be her loyalty towards the Capitol that would save her. If she told them the truth, if she apologised for her family's mistakes, then maybe they would keep her alive. It would be better for someone like her to survive than an actual rebel. The fact that they were even letting one of them escape was baffling for her. Just kill them all and done with it.

"Do you know the plan?" Someone asked her, their voice causing her to snap back to reality.

She looked up and Volten was sat beside her. She wanted to roll her eyes. Out of all the other rebels there, he was perhaps the most infuriating, the leader, planning to defy the Capitol until the end and just kill everyone in the process. He was the worst sort of rebel.

"Yes, and it's idiotic," Reyna whispered under her breath, as she looked away from the man. She couldn't even look at him in those bright blue eyes of his, he infuriated her that much.

"What?"

"You heard me. It's idiotic. Then again, you're rebels so, what more should I expect?"

"Ah- you're not a rebel," Volten stated, as he awkwardly shifted in his seat, his lips pursed in a straight line.

"Do you see the flaws in your plan now?" Reyna whispered, a small smirk appearing at the edge of her lips.

Anger rose to Volten's face in a flash. She could tell he was an easily provoked man. Every soldier was the same. "There are always flaws in plans, flaws that we cannot control. But we deal with them if and when they show themselves," he spat.

"Are you really threatening me?" She raised her eyebrow. He didn't scare her. He was just like her husband, only worse.

"No...I'm not," Volten said. He then stood up and moved over to the next person. Spraying them with his 'words of wisdom' and rebel ways. It was people like him that she had to blame for the breakup of her family. They destroyed everything she ever cared about and the only thing she had left were her children. She wondered how they were doing without her; whether their Father had finally shown his face now she wasn't there. She deeply hoped he was with them. He was supposed to be just as responsible for them as she was. She couldn't take care of them now. It was down to him. He just had to stop being an idiotic rebel.

Each and every person who sat in that room was an idiot. Especially that red-haired Capitol girl. She had everything, the lifestyle, the protection, the money, but she threw it all away for nothing, for a stupid rebel-cause. Reyna really did not understand.

She wouldn't play their game, but she was more than willing to play the Capitols game.

She was going to return home.

Maxwell Arthur, D10, 31 years old, Tribute Twenty-Three

He felt like everyone's eyes were on him.

He and a ginger woman were the last to join the group of rebels in the cell. They had spent the night in the hospital after being wounded in the raids. Maxwell had only hit his head and so didn't need surgery but, from the sounds of things, the woman had had it worse than him. It sounded like she had been shot or something. They were both fine now though; better than fine, actually. What he wanted to know was why they even bothered to heal them? They were going to kill them anyway. Why did they have to be fighting fit before the games? Did they really care that much about having a fair game? It wasn't half confusing.

He smiled as he sat down on a piece of rock. "Well, this doesn't feel very inviting. Does it?" he asked, glancing at the ginger woman. He really needed to learn her name. Then again, when the woman just raised her brow in annoyance, he no longer felt the need to get to know her. "Well..." he muttered under his breath, as he awkwardly moved away.

He knew everyone was just grieving because of the situation they were in and, quite honestly, he felt the same. He felt worse than he had ever felt before. He didn't leave things on a good note with his family. He never had the chance to apologise, to tell his wife that he loved her, to make things right. Still, he didn't let that get the best of him. If he got upset, he wouldn't have been able to fight to the best of his ability. He allowed himself a moment of emotion back at the hospital, but now he had to be brave, if not for himself, then for his wife and son.

"Are you okay?" her voice almost made him jump. A blonde woman sat next to him, still managing to keep her distance. He recognised her almost immediately. She was also a soldier at the District Twelve rebel camp, but he couldn't quite recall her name.

"Yeah, I am," he said confidently. The woman seemed quite guarded, but still nice enough. A part of him wanted to brighten her spirits and make her less guarded. He couldn't blame her though. This situation wasn't the best to say the least.

"I'm Giselle," she said.

He smiled and nodded, "I'm Max."

"Nice to meet you," she whispered under her breath.

"Like wise." He puffed out his cheeks and sighed. That was a far too formal greeting for his likings. It seemed dull and almost depressing.

He pursed his lips together as he looked around the room. There were some clear groups amongst the tributes. They were divided already, but one group seemingly kept trying to bring them all together.

"They're trying to make everyone not kill," Giselle explained.

Maxwell nodded his head. "Sounds like a good plan to me."

"Is it?" Giselle whispered under her breath. She said it so quietly that, for a moment, Maxwell thought she didn't want him to hear her, but then she looked up at him expectantly.

"What do you mean?" He asked raising his brows. The idea seemed almost perfect. He didn't want to kill a fellow rebel, he didn't want to kill anyone, and if everyone else felt the same; it seemed wonderful.

She shrugged. "I don't know. I guess I just hope it doesn't create more problems than it solves."

Maxwell looked back at the group and slowly nodded. She had a point. The Capitol were experts in this situation. He wouldn't kill, not at first anyway, and he doubted many of the others would.

But the Capitol always found a way of getting what they wanted.

Nicklaus Nesh, D12, 35 years old, Tribute Twenty-Seven

He still wouldn't look at him.

Nicklaus had been sat next to Dinis since the moment they arrived at the Capitol, but they sat in an awkward, deadly, silence. He had completely lost this man's trust and he had lost it at the worst possible time, just when he needed him to trust him.

Nicklaus ran a hand through his hair and smiled awkwardly. He had to tell this man the truth, or he had to tell him the 'almost truth'. He wouldn't tell him how he killed many of their patients or anything like that, but he would tell the rest. He had to open up, tell the truth, and show emotion. Then, logically, he should be able to get this man back on his side.

"I think I have some explaining to do, huh?" Nicklaus said, quietly.

Dinis still did not look at him as he spoke. "You think?"

"Yeah." Nicklaus chuckled awkwardly. He had to appear nervous, scared almost, as if the reason he never told Dinis the truth before now was because of how fearful he was about how he would react. He was far from scared of Dinis' feelings, but he was supposed to be his friend so, it was better for him to continue to pretend. "I never thought I'd have to come clean about this. I hoped- I hoped I didn't have to relive it all."

Dinis shook his head and glanced up at the other man for the first time, eyebrows furrowed together. "I'm listening. Explain why you were a Capitol General."

Nicklaus laughed again and rubbed his palms together. "You got that much, huh? That- that makes this a tad easier. I guess."

No it doesn't, Nicklaus thought. Dinis knowing that much about him, the part he'd probably hate him the most over, made things a lot more difficult for him. Dinis would have already made up his mind, for the most part. He would already see him as the enemy. He had to change that.

"Just get on with it; we'll be dead before you know it."

"No need to be so morbid," Nicklaus laughed awkwardly before Dinis sent him an unsettling look, telling him to just get started. Nicklaus took a deep breath before he began. "Well... When I was younger, I went through a rough patch, my brother got murdered and my life just spiralled out of control. The police came along one day when things got particularly out of control and they shot at us, I got shot in the arm, I still have the scar." Nicklaus ran his thumb over the circular scar on his arm, making sure Dinis got a good view of it. "But, my girlfriend at the time...she was killed. It destroyed me. I was only a teenager and I loved that girl with my whole heart. I never thought it was possible to love someone that much. I didn't face prison, I was pretty lucky, I guess, and I went on to be an army general- as you already know. I- I didn't agree with what they were doing, they were killing innocent people, so, I killed some of them. Those idiots didn't deserve to live." Nicklaus awkwardly looked over at the guards standing outside the cell; they would know who he was. They would know that he didn't just 'kill some of them'; he brutally murdered many of them. Details, details. He had to resist the urge to send them a sly smile. "Um-It was probably wrong of me, but it felt right at the time and who knows how many lives I actually saved doing that. When I was found out, I escaped, and well, I ended up in District 12. Where I continued to fight against the Capitol and fight for what I believed in. I've always been on your side, always."

Nicklaus was shaking as he spoke, acting as if thinking about his dark past made him heartbroken. It didn't take much for him to get upset over that, he did love his girlfriend, Kianna, he did feel broken after she died. A lot of what he said was true; he just left out the fact that he was a mass murderer. They were only minor details.

Dinis placed a hand on Nicklaus' shoulder but did not say a word. The smile on Dinis' face told Nicklaus that it had worked.

He had won the trust of a friend again.

Winter Valentine, Capitol, 28, Tribute One

What a lot of utter bullsh*t.

Winter glanced over at the two men sat in front of her. She could have unveiled the truth about General Nicklaus Nesh in an instant, but she didn't. The timing wasn't right and, who knew, perhaps she could use her knowledge to her advantage in the arena.

She could use a lot to her advantage. Some of the more important rebels in the room knew who she was, she had worked with them on a one-to-one basis, they commended her for her bravery and they relied on her for her inside knowledge. They owed her something and she wasn't about to let them forget it. They wouldn't kill her. There was also her relationship with Torrence and President Lentz, perhaps when they saw her in the midst of the fight, they wouldn't want to watch their friend die, and perhaps they would save her. She had a lot to be hopeful about and she had a lot riding for her. She had more chance of surviving than any other person sat in that room.

"Well, I just think it's nice to have someone who gets me," Winter said, cutting into the two men's conversation. It was time for her to bullsh*t just as much as he did. Apparently it was a common skill for Capitol citizens. Who knew?

She held out her hand towards Nicklaus and smiled. "I'm Winter; I'm also from the Capitol, but like you, I'm totally on the rebels side. Obviously." She grinned happily as she twirled a strand of red hair between her fingers.

Winter's smile only grew when she saw Nicklaus' eyes darken. He knew how well known he was in the Capitol. He knew about the vast hunt to capture him. Most importantly, he knew that she knew who he was, and that was enough for her to get him on her side.

"I think we're on the same page, don't you?" Winter asked, looking at him in the eye, trying to depict a knowing glance which would make him understand what she was talking about.

"Uh, sure," Nicklaus said, smiling awkwardly.

He was good at this, she thought. He kept up the act well.

"Great," Winter beamed as she looked between the two boys. "Well, it was great to make your acquaintance."

As she wandered over to the other side of the room, she shot Torrence a glance. He was stood outside their cell, looking out of a window at the destroyed city outside. The Capitol had it bad, but the Districts had it worse. When they locked eyes, she winked at him, but he only rolled his eyes in response. She could tell he wasn't completely onboard with this idea, but he was still a d*ckhead for following it through. He didn't even try to understand her point of view at the apartment; he just decided he hated her.

It was ridiculous.

Winter sat down beside the triplets and smiled, knowing all too well that something about these boys angered Torrence, she didn't know what it was, but she saw their earlier encounter and it greatly amused her. "Hi boys."

As expected, Torrence clenched his fist in anger the moment she spoke. "Right, you three," he pointed at each of the triplets. "You're first."

"First for what?" one of the boys asked.

"Just move," Torrence said through gritted teeth, still sending hateful glares in her direction.

Winter wanted to laugh. Eventually, he'd be the sorry one.

Arrow Redhul, District Two, 24, Tribute Six

They marched them into a dark and dismal room. Three steal beds, which looked more like torture beds than comfort beds, were stuck in the centre of the room. If it wasn't for the towels and shampoo bottles on the side, it would have looked just like an old torture chamber.

Arrow raised his eyebrows in question and opened his mouth to say something, only to shut it again when remembering himself. A blush rose to his cheeks and he awkwardly looked at the floor. He was too shy to speak. Luckily, he had a more outgoing brother, who asked exactly what Arrow had wanted to ask. "What is this?" Archer asked.

Torrence shrugged his shoulders. "They – we want to get you cleaned up and comfortable before the arena, they think it will focus you more or something and maybe persuade you to do the right thing." He glanced at the other guards in the room, and cleared his throat as if he had just said something he wasn't supposed to. "You are dismissed."

The other guards bowed their heads before leaving the room. When the door closed behind them in a loud bang, Torrence looked at the three boys with more haste in her demeanour. "You have to kill when you get in there, if you don't..." His adams-apple moved up and down as Torrence swallowed nervously, and looked back towards the door again. "If you don't, they will kill you, and it won't be pleasant. Got it?"

Arrow glanced at his brothers. Boe stood with his usual expression, a sly smirk on his disbelieving face, and Archer was just nodding along to what this man was saying. It confused Arrow greatly. Why would Archer believe anything this Capitol man said? Usually Arrow was the only understanding one, the one who didn't judge people just because of where they were from. Their mother showed them that people from the Capitol could have good hearts and, from then on, Arrow believed it was at least possible, even if Archer didn't.

Arrow smiled softly as he looked up at the Capitol man before him. The man returned the smile and, to Arrow's surprise, Torrence patted his shoulder. As he did, Arrow almost leaped away from the man, confused as to why he just did that. Torrence pursed his lips together and nodded his head, before walking out of the room.

"What the hell was that?" Boe asked, his question clearly directed at Archer.

Archer just shrugged his shoulders before he plonked down onto one of the chairs in the room. Arrow stood there awkwardly, scratching the back of his arm, until three people dressed in all black entered the room.

One of them clapped his hands together and smiled."Right then, strip."

Arrow's eyes widened and he held tightly onto his shirt, unwilling to take it off. He couldn't strip. Only his wife had ever seen the scars which covered his body. He was embarrassed of them. He was insecure about them. He couldn't let these strangers see his body. Arrow's hands began to shake as he swallowed down his fear.

"Wh-what?"

Angora Florence, District Eight, 17, Tribute Twenty-One

The mean-looking guard came back into the room, his face clearly flustered with anger. Angora didn't really understand him; what he wanted with them, whether he agreed with what his brother was doing. She didn't understand at all. All she knew was that she had killed a few of his men before so she was probably not on his best side.

"Where do you reckon he took them?"Aden asked, as he lent over her shoulder.

Angora shrugged her shoulders. "God knows."

Angora and Aden had become quite close in the short amount of time they had been together. She didn't really get much choice in the matter, but he was the only person she kind of knew, so they had instantly stayed together. It was kind of like being back in school, everyone sat with the people they knew by name and the rest of them awkwardly stared at each other, smiling now and again, and waiting for someone to speak.

Aden seemed to have this uncanny desire to protect her, probably because of the fact it was his fault she was there in the first place. She couldn't hold that against him though. There wasn't anything he could have done to prevent it, and it was her fault too for being out at night. Still, she was grateful to have him there. He helped her sanity.

"You're all going to be cleaned up before the games. There won't be any chance to relax in the arena, so you best make the most of the next..." Torrence took a glance at his watch and bobbed his head from side to side, as he counted the hours. "Uh...well, you're leaving tonight." Angora rolled her eyes. Of course the Capitol General couldn't do simple maths. Honestly, she wouldn't have been surprised if no one in the Capitol could add two and two.

Another guard stepped forward with a clear smirk on his face. "See, we're a kind Capitol." The man winked. "We give you showers and blankets and stuff."

Angora hadn't heard any of the other guards speak before, and now she hoped she never had to hear it again. Their voices made her want to throw up and they were beyond stupid and weird. The second guard made Torrence look like an astrologist, or something of that nature, in comparison to him.

Torrence quickly shoved the other man back, bringing a small smile to Angora's face. Perhaps Torrence wasn't as bad as she first thought.

He sighed and observed the group of rebels with a half-hearted expression on his face. "Someone wake that kid up?" He motioned towards a boy, about the same age as Angora, who was asleep across the floor.

No one jumped up to follow the man's orders, so, because Angora was nearest one to him, she shuffled over to him and gently gave his arm a shake to wake him up.

Though, if she was him, she wouldn't have been in a hurry to re-enter this nightmare.

They would all be dead soon.

Ray Manta, District Four, 16, Tribute Ten

He regrettably opened his eyes.

Ray wished he could have stayed asleep for longer; forever, if that was possible. He wished he didn't have to wake up and face this nightmare of a reality which had been bestowed upon him.

A fight to the death out of all things.

He rolled over to face the stone wall at the back of the cell. He really didn't want to deal with the day, even if the killing resistance actually happened, it would still amount to a stressful turn of events. He knew the Capitol would still try and find a way of killing them. Some of them would still die. Why couldn't it have all been just a dream?

The lack of gunshots in the morning was more unnerving than he would have thought. It was silent, too silent. The lie of peace was present in the atmosphere.

Staying there forever wouldn't have been too bad, but it was the next twenty-four hours which unnerved him. He wasn't at home and, at that point, he would have much preferred to be at home, in the midst of the war, than caught up in this cell with twenty other rebels. At least his future would have been slightly more certain if he was at home. At least he could have stuck up for himself at home, with that deep and beautiful sea by his side.

Here; he just had to take it as it came.

"Are you getting up or what?" A girl's voice asked. For a moment, he thought it was Kaya. He thought he had actually been imagining this whole nightmare and he was back at home, safe.

He couldn't really understand why he would have thought that. Perhaps it was just the tiredness which still fogged his brain. Before he could have stopped himself the words, "leave me alone," left his mouth in a mumble, as he tugged his blanket up to his chin.

When he opened one of his eyes to see a girl which was definitely not Kaya, with dark brown hair and tanned skin, he quickly sat up.

"Oh, sorry," he said in a hurry, keeping the blanket around his shoulders. He ran a hand through his messy, unwashed, hair and sighed. "It's just, this sucks, and I guess sleeping seems like the better option." He chuckled weakly and rubbed some sleep out of the corner of his eyes.

The girl smiled softly. "Yeah, you're not kidding."

Ray grinned from ear to ear and held out his hand. "I'm Ray."
"Angora," the girl replied as she took his hand and shook it.

"So, why do I need to get up?"He asked, trying his best not to sound rude.

Angora looked over at the guards, who were stood outside the cell. "They want to prepare us for the games. We leave for the arena tonight."

Ray's smile fell and he rolled his eyes. "Splendid."

Adriana Latro, D2, 30 years old, Tribute Three

"I think I'm perfectly capable of cleaning myself, thank you very much.

Adriana stared at the woman in front of her. The other two women had already willingly taken their clothes off and were now lying on their beds, looking rather uncomfortable, as the cleaners scrubbed down every inch of their bodies. Adriana had seen her fair share of bodies in her lifetime, but she didn't particularly want some random stranger looking at her own body.

"Please Miss; it's just our job-"

"I know, but that doesn't mean I have to let you do it. I owe you nothing," Adriana said, through gritted teeth. She didn't care what they said, she wouldn't budge. She was certain of herself.

"I didn't say you did, but it will help you relax if you just let us-"

"Not happening." Adriana sighed and looked away. This wasn't doing her any good. She always had this desire to be in control of any and every situation she found herself in. She didn't like being bossed about and she wanted things to have a particular outcome. Usually it just meant she had to assess the situation correctly. Whatever happened, she believed people would make the right decision eventually and she was just hoping that would also happen in this particular case.

She took in a deep breath and put on the nicest smile she could possibly muster. "Look, just let me get in the shower, I will wash myself in private and everyone will be happy. I'm not here to get anyone in trouble."

There was a long pause in the room and then finally the woman gave in and nodded. "Yeah, fine, whatever. Go." She handed her a towel and pointed her towards a closet-like room which Adriana assumed was the shower.

"Thank you," Adriana said as she smiled widely. Yet again, Adriana had won.

She walked into the room and carefully took off her clothes before stepping into the warm water. She took a moment to smile. It had been a while since she took such a clean, warm, shower. For years it had been unfiltered water, practically rain water. It was nice to be reminded about this cleanliness. It was nice to be reminded about the time before the war, when she easily took advantage of things like clean water.

Perhaps this rebellion was all for nothing. Everything was better before it, not much better, they still weren't free, but at least they had their basic necessities. She highly doubted they'd ever get them back.

When she was done, she put her clothes back on and walked out of the room towel-drying her hair.

"You did well back there," she heard a woman say. She looked up to see Ariadne- or at least that was what she thought her name was. The woman was already completely dressed and her hair was pristine and dry. She was probably cleaner than Adriana was, but having her body exposed to strangers was not worth the cleanliness. "I guess I was just too scared to put up a fight myself."

Adriana smiled softly and nodded. "Thanks."

She hadn't even thought about it as 'putting up a fight', she just stood her grounds. She just ensured she got what she wanted.

That was all, but perhaps it was enough to help her survive.

A/N- Yeah, I'm glad I chose to write 500 words per POV, I doubt I would have been able to drag them out to 1,000 words especially seeing there isn't any training or anything like that. Just character storylines, that's all. These chapters may not be as interesting, but I hope they're okay. They are needed for the emotional stuff and relationship stuff, like I said. Yep.

I'm gonna be without internet all next week, but hopefully I will still be writing this. So...yeah...

And, I totally forgot to publish the poll last chapter, it's up now, so go and vote! It'll stay open till next chapter. So, yup.

Questions-

Did your opinions on any of these tributes change?

Any stand out tributes in this chapter?

Favourite POV? Why?
Least Favourite POV? Why?

Till next time! bye! x