District One:

Rubin Royal (17) and Porcelain Braavos (17)

Then noise outside was defining. Porcelain had to be personally escorted by three peacekeepers through the mob of cheering citizens to get on the train. People were screaming in all directions. Some simply wanted her to look their way so that they might get a quality photograph. Others begged her for her autograph as regardless whether she won or not, her signature would be a hot commodity soon. She bore the burden of fame well for someone who wasn't used to it. Half of her was thrilled to be getting the attention. The other half wanted to strangle these strangers in a violent flash of annoyance. It was different at the academy when she knew those who were doting on her. It made her feel powerful to have people who were once her equals worshiping her. This new type of celebrity was obnoxious though. She didn't know what made these people tick, nor did she care really. It took all the fun out of things.

Walking onto the train, she couldn't help but feel a wave of relief to be away from it all, if only briefly. Whoever invented sound proof train walls should be crowned a saint.

Shutting the door behind her, Porcelain took a moment to just take in her new surroundings. The train was nothing if not breath taking. From the curtains on the windows to the trim on the coach, everything was made of the most expensive material. The latest trends showcased themselves elegantly throughout the space, showing the more recent turn for a more traditional feel. Perhaps regal would be a good word for it. Needless to say, when Porcelain entered the room she most certainly felt... cozy.

Of course, she was not alone in the room. Sitting on the coach with his legs resting up on one of the arms was none other than Rubin Royal, her new District partner. He had been staring at the television absently for quite some time as his goodbye's had gone much quicker- Porcelain's father had been slightly late to the justice building. When he saw her enter though, he immediately jumped to his feet. The two teenagers had never spoken much, but he planned on making up for lost time. After all, it was of up most importance to Rubin that he take charge of the careers. His leadership would start here and now with his District partner.

"Porcelain right?" he asked smiling and holding out his hand politely. "I'm Rubin."

Porcelain gave the boy an odd look. She quite frankly didn't want to deal with Rubin just yet. He had never interested her much. He was just too secure with himself to make any of her meddling worth her while. All the same, she couldn't drop her facade now. Forcing the look from her face, she strained her muscles into a smile.

"I do hope you know we've met honey," she said, taking his hand.

"Well of course we have, but we've never really met properly. I wanted to get off on the right foot, you know. I'm assuming you're going to be in the career alliance, so we'll be spending a lot of time together," Rubin nodded with a small smile.

"Oh, well that's very sweet of you," Porcelain said. She thought for a moment before adding, "This is good. We're both going to need somebody who we can trust later on." There, hopefully that would be enough. She knew that she would need Rubin's blind trust once the Games started. He seemed like he would be taking control later with the other careers. It most certainly wouldn't hurt to keep the pack leader within her reach.

Rubin grinned enthusiastically, completely thrilled that the conversation was going so well. After his talk with Glint, he had been worried that Porcelain was going to be trouble. She didn't seem very threatening though. In fact, she was pretty nice. This was going to be good for the both of them.

"So, do you know who your mentor's going to be yet," Rubin asked, taking a seat back on the coach. Porcelain daintily walked over and sat herself down in a chair that was a decent distance away from Rubin, hoping that later she'd be able to get some peace there.

"I believe they've given me Cashmere," Porcelain replied. She batted her eyelids innocently, as if she had no hand in the decision. In reality she personally requested District One's golden girl. Cashmere basically flirted her way to victory in her year. The three career boys were drooling over her the entire time. Porcelain wanted somebody like that bartering for her sponsors- someone manipulative.

"When I started training, I always thought my grandfather would be my mentor. You know that Price Royal was my grandad right? I guess that's not how the story's going to go though huh," Rubin sighed. "I think I've got Ritz by the way."

"How sad," Porcelain muttered. Oh, she hoped he wouldn't be bringing that up all the time. If it was just this once, then fine, but if he waved his grandfather's victory in front of all of the other's noses for the next week, she just might have to slit his throat herself. It wasn't like it was one of his parents that won anyways... That's right, neither of his parents had won, but his father had tried. She hadn't remembered. His dad had died in one of the past Games, the year that woman Paylor had won from Eight.

Porcelain smiled to herself and started humming a light tune. She'd never thought that Hunger Games History lessons would ever come in handy. Storing that tid bit of information in the back of her brain. She would be sure to use it later.

District Three:

Avell Watts (12) and Auden Eneis (15)

Auden twiddled her thumbs nervously as she sat on the couch, her eyes flickering between the television and her District partner. They were showing the reaping recaps, though she wasn't paying much attention to them- she'd have plenty of time to worry about her competition later. For now her mind was completely focused on Avell. The boy was sitting on a chair completely engrossed with the television. His dark eyes were completely serious as he stared at each face and listened to the commentary. Every now and then he'd bite his lip and tilt his head curiously like he was thinking hard.

She wanted to talk to him.

Clearly he wasn't a normal kid. Most twelve year olds flip out when they're chosen, but Avell had grinned. At first she had been thoroughly creeped out by it. Was he crazy? For whatever reason the Games always seemed to have their token insane tribute. He didn't seem crazy though. Ever since he had gotten on the train, he just seemed young to her. Something about the way his eyes bulged at seeing the finery on the train just made her feel connected to the kid. Not that she could ever say she was good at reading people.

Still, she knew that she needed an alliance, or at least she wanted one. Her gut twisted when she thought of what she had to offer, her mind jumping quickly to her intellect. No, she wouldn't use that as a bargaining chip. If she had it her way, she would keep Panem in the dark about her IQ of 137. They would just think she was weird. Taking a deep breath, she sat forwards in her seat. He was younger than her, just a kid really. He was probably alone and scared and just as in need of companionship as she was. It wasn't like he had all that many options anyway. He couldn't say no. She knew he couldn't.

"Um hi," she mumbled weakly. Immediately she regretted speaking. Avell jumped a bit, his eyes moving from the television than back over to her as he pulled himself out of his deep strain of thought. Auden bit her lip. It was too late to turn back now.

"Sup?" Avell asked, his eyes scanning her curiously. A faint smirk inched upwards on the corner of his mouth, like she had amused him.

"H-how are you?" Auden asked. Ellysia always told her to start a conversation by checking up on someone. It made them think you were considerate, and it could become a good conversation started should they answer in the negative. It could lead to a new friendship.

"I'm just fine," Avell said, leaning back in his chair and putting his feet up on the coffee table like he owned the place. He watched her carefully, evaluating her. He hadn't been paying attention to his District partner since he had entered the train. He had been too busy watching the reapings. The career pack looked strong this year, save the blind kid who was probably going to get rejected from the group all together, knowing their standards. It presented a challenge to Avell. He needed to find their weak points, and even some little mannerism during the reaping could be the key to his victory.

"Really," Auden mumbled. She wasn't sure what to say now. She had to become his friend, but she was so used to socializing whilst Ellysia was right next to her, feeding her cues on what she was doing right and wrong. Now she was on her own and she felt lost. Avell looked at her for another moment before returning his eyes to the television screen. He had seen enough to get a good read on his District partner. She seemed kind of awkward, but friendly enough. She definitely wasn't victor material though. That was all he needed to know really.

Seeing that she was losing him, Auden felt a panicked feeling rise in her chest. She needed this so badly. "Want to be my ally," she squeaked. Her face turned bright red. That hadn't come out right. She said it too fast, like she was hiccuping out a sentence in one quick breath.

Avell sighed looking back to her. He had expected this. He knew he wouldn't be a hot commodity with the real competition- the careers would never want him- but with some of the weaker tributes like Auden, he'd be an 'safe target'. She probably assumed that he would just say yes too because he was small and therefore couldn't function in the arena on his own. She was wrong of course. He would probably thrive the most out of everyone there. He had to make sure he put this nicely though. Hurting feelings wouldn't get anyone anywhere.

"Auden right?" he asked carefully. The girl nodded. "I'm going to be honest with you okay? I mean you seem really nice and stuff, but I'm not really looking for an alliance okay? And I suggest you don't either."

"What?" Auden said. The disappointment was already resonating in her gut.

"Can I ask you why you want an alliance?" Avell responded patiently.

Auden blushed. "I, um, I just thought it'd be nice not to be alone in the arena."

"So you want a friend?" Avell stated.

"I guess."

"And how many winners are there? Two? Three? No, there's one. It's just not smart," he explained. "I'm not trying to be mean, this is just the way things are. If you're smart you won't let anyone else weigh you down either."

Auden swallowed looking at her feet. "Oh, okay," she said. She knew that she wouldn't listen to the boy's advice though. She needed somebody to go through this with. If she had to go it alone, she'd surely die.

District Five:

Petro Joule (16) and Mae Themis (14)

Clank, clank, clank.

The silent room was filled with the sound of Petro's fork knocking against his porcelain plate. When they brought the food out, he had carefully taken a steak and cut it up into small precise cubes. Now that it was cut though, he couldn't bring himself to eat any of it. He was hungry, sure, but he didn't have the heart to eat anything. He deserved the constant grumbling of his stomach.

"Well you're depressing," Mae suddenly snapped. Beside her, Isaac Luster jumped a little, startled by the sudden noise. He was her mentor, as she had claimed him when they walked onto the train. Petro was stuck with Atom Washer who was currently snoring in the seat beside him. He wasn't bitter about his bad luck though. Things were better this way. He wasn't worth any mentor's time.

Petro glanced up at her emptily. With a deep sigh, he gave her a small smile. "Sorry if I'm bugging you," he mumbled half heartedly. Gently he placed his fork down, leaning back into his chair. With a wary eye he glanced over at the steak knife beside it before returning his eyes to his lap.

"That's no better," Mae huffed. Petro just shrugged.

"L-let's not fight," Isaac Luster mumbled as he chewed on his thumb.

"We won't have to," Mea said, sending her District partner an icy glare. "If he keeps moping like that he'll get killed off in the blood bath."

Petro couldn't help but wonder if she was right. Was he already destined to die within the first five seconds of the game. He didn't know. At the very least, he was sure he wouldn't win. He wouldn't allow that of himself. Someone else who had a people who depended on them should win. That didn't mean he had to die first though. Petro's gut twisted into a tight knot. He had never been courageous enough to kill himself. His fear of death was, for the moment, much greater than his fear of life. Every time he thought of ending things, his mind travelled to his mother, and the grotesque angle of her neck the day he found her. Well, it appeared he wouldn't have to do the deed himself anymore. Someone else would kill him themselves, and he wouldn't even have to ask.

"Don't look at me like that. It's true," Mae sneered at her mentor. The man sighed, his fidgety blue eyes looking away from her and scanning the room for the umpteenth time that evening. It was almost as if he expected someone to be creeping up on him. Whatever the habit was from though, Mae was sure the behavior was irrational. Isaac had always shown himself to be mentally weak. He proved that of himself during the Games when he broke down the day his last ally died. She didn't need him giving her 'advice'. She was smarter than all of them combined after all. She'd figure things out without him. If he wasn't necessary for sponsors, she might ask him to go away all together.

"I don't c-care if it's true," Isaac said, putting on a mirage of strength. "You're going to spend the rest of your life fighting, try and get some peace while you can."

Mae smirked. "Don't be stupid. I'm only going to be fighting for a week or so because I'm going to win."

Isaac shook his head, not responding. It was Atom who reacted to her statement. He was sitting in his chair, mid-snore, when his breath caught suddenly and his body bolted upright. He swung his head around to Mae, his eyes hopelessly bloodshot. "I'm sorry? What did you say?" he croaked gruffly.

"I said I'm going to win. Are you deaf?" Mae announced again.

Atom's chapped lips stretched into a long creepy grin. "Are you?" he said. Then as if someone had made some sort of hilarious joke, he started cracking up, slapping Isaac on the back hysterically.

Mae pursed her lips indignantly and crossed her arms, ready to ring the victor out. She was going to win. As the smartest kid in District Five and probably in Panem, she couldn't lose. He clearly was just too dense to understand that. Before she got a chance to respond though, Petro pushed his chair back and stood. He was tired of talking with Isaac and Mae. With Atom now added to the mix, it was too much. He needed to be alone. Now.

"I'm going to bed," he said quietly. With that, he quickly made his exit before anyone else could object. None of them noticed that his steak knife had disappeared. Only the Avox's would know later, and they couldn't tell anyone. Slipping into the hallway he started to run towards his room. This all was so overwhelming, he needed his release, and he would get it.

District Seven:

Kan Murcius (17) and Rowan Diatello (15)

Kan rolled onto his stomach, letting out a low pained moan. His stomach felt like someone had poured some kind of acid into it, and he had been fighting the urge to make his dinner reappear all night. He knew he shouldn't have ate so much for dinner, but everything was just so good. His family had never been rich. He had never seen so much food in his life. How could he resist going a little overboard?

He was paying for it now though. He wasn't used to such rich fare, and he knew he'd be battling to keep it down for several more hours. It was ironic really. He was a medic by profession and now he was sick and couldn't do anything about it. Illness wasn't his specialty though. Out in the field, workers broke bones, got cut up, occasionally lost a limb, but never got ill. The only sicknesses he knew a little about were hypothermia and heat exhaustion. Indigestion and other similar ailments were alien to him. He wondered if they made medicine for this. Medicine...

With a groan, Kan swung his feet around and he rose. Grasping the dresser as he steadied himself, Kan rubbed his stomach. They must know that most of the impoverished tributes don't have strong stomachs. There must be some sort of medicine cabinet around the train to treat him this. Walking into the hallway, Kan began to slowly work his way towards the back of the train, poking his head into each door. Most rooms were empty. For whatever reason, there was a lot of bedrooms on the train. He also mistakenly walked into the kitchen where he got a whiff of something baking in the oven. The smell made him want to puke again.

Just as he was running out of doors to open, he heard a noise coming from one of the rooms. Gingerly, he turned the knob and poked his head in. It was a small closet with shelf after shelf of boxes. A figure with long brown hair was crouched on the ground, clutching her stomach as she rummaged through one of the boxes. "Hello?" he called.

The figure jumped, spinning around towards him. It was Rowan, his district partner. "Oh, I didn't hear you," she breathed as she threw her hand over her heart. "I thought I was going to get in trouble."

Kan laughed as he lowered himself onto the floor next to her. "Don't worry I won't tell. Stomach problems?" he asked.

She nodded bitterly. "Nobody said the food here was toxic. i was looking for medicine," she said with a sigh. Just like Kan she'd been fighting the urge to purge since she ate dinner. She'd already been to the bathroom four times that evening, and just wanted to get some sleep. Tomorrow was going to be a long day with chariot rides, and she needed to be well rested.

"Me too. You haven't found any have you?" Kan asked. Rowan shook her head, opening up the box wide to reveal that it was filled with canned food, a few screw drives, and some smaller packaged boxes labeled light bulbs.

"It's just a storage closet. I've looked through most of it already. No meds," Rowan shook her head.

"That sucks," Kan frowned.

"Tell me about it," Rowan agreed with a slight smile. "You know, they tell you about all the other obstacles that you face when you become a tribute- the chariot rides, interviews, surviving the arena- but nobody tells you about this stuff."

"I mean I don't know about you, but if someone told me having a full stomach could make you sick, I probably wouldn't have believed them," Kan said lightly.

"That's probably true," Rowan nodded. Slowly, she leaned back against the wall. It made her feel better that Kan was there with her, like she wasn't alone in her sufferings. He was a nice guy. They'd talked for a while earlier just about random things, to keep their mind off the Games. They never spoke much before, as he didn't attend school, but since they were neighbors, she found that they had plenty of material to talk about. And as neither of their mentors were all that talkative, they only really had each other to talk to.

"We'll have to make sure we don't over do things at breakfast tomorrow," Kan said. "I don't think it'd be very appealing if we both were sick during the chariot rides."

Rowan smiled. "Oh, I don't know what you're talking about, puking would win us loads of sponsors," she joked. "Hey, do you know what you were going to be doing for the Games. Like, what's your strategy?"

Kan paused. "I don't know. Don't die I guess? I've never really considered what I'd do. I've spent so long helping people..." Kan's face grew dark as he thought about the daunting task in front of him. Killing someone was so final and irreversible, so cruel, could he really do that?

"I know what you mean, neither of us really have a chance," she smirked bitterly.

Kan sighed. "We've got each other though, for now at least," he said, watching her face carefully.

She smiled her eyes lighting up. "I guess we do," she agreed. At the very least, now she knew she wouldn't have to go through it all alone.

District Nine:

Ghram Aintree (13) and Zea Bachmeier (18)

Ghram shoved his arm through the sleave of his new silk pajama shirt as he dressed for bed. He felt alone and lost without the familiar sounds of his friends echoing around him. The entire day had been surreal. From the moment he was reaped it was like everything had started spinning. The goodbyes, watching the reaping recap, everything had passed in one giant flash. He felt trapped on the train away from the rolling fields of Nine. There was no where to run here.

With a huge sigh, he fell onto the bed. At first, he had been upset. Milo hadn't volunteered for him. Not that the older boy ever said he would, but Ghram had always sort of fantasized that he was so important his leader that Milo wouldn't let any harm come to him. He wasn't surprised that Milo had stayed silent. He was just disappointed. And scared; he was very scared.

He had to get passed that though. He wasn't going to go down without a fight, that was for sure. He needed a strategy. For now, he was thinking about going to join the careers. They operated with that pack mentality that he was familiar to. He wasn't entirely sure they'd accept him though. He was one of the youngest kids in the Games, and naturally they were all going to assume he was weak. If they told him no, he wasn't sure what he'd do. The Capitol was probably expecting him to team up with the boy from Three, who was only twelve. Usually two or three of the youngest kids formed an alliance. He didn't want to team up with that pip-squeak though. Three looked like the kind of boy Ghram would've kicked the crap out of back at home- all scrawny and introverted. He wanted to be aligned with older kids. The boys from Six, Eight, and Twelve all looked decent.

Suddenly, there was a knock on the door. Ghram raised his head to find Flax Vernon walking into his room. He won the fourteenth Hunger Games ages ago. He was old and grey now, and made his way around in a very high tech wheel chair. His eyes were always sharp though. District Nine was well known for having well preserved Victors. None of them had any severe problems with substance abuse and so far no one had been checked into any sort of mental institution; although, there had been some rumors about Gwyneth lately. So far that day, Ghram hadn't seen any trace of Nine's victors. They had been at the reaping, but he hadn't seen them since.

"Kid," the man greeted brusquely.

"Oh, uh, hi," Ghram said.

With a tired sigh, Flax rolled his green eyes. "I'm going to be your mentor this year," he said. "Thought you should know."

Something about the forced way Flax talked annoyed Ghram. His life was on the line, Flax should at least pretend to care. "Gee, sounds like I got lucky," Ghram responded sarcastically.

"Be grateful that I've even bothered telling you kid, 'cause if I had it my way, I wouldn't even be here. You're not my charity case," Flax scowled in response.

"Nobody said I was begging," Ghram snapped.

"Not yet you're not," Flax snarled before turning and rolling out of the room.

In the room across the hall, Zea was lying on her bed cross legged as she stared at a game board carefully. She had requested the board from one of the Avox's. It was a strategy game, that you played with a partner usually, but Zea usually played alone. It helped her think. Her situation was looking glum. She was three moves behind, and the number of possible outcomes were dwindling. It appeared as if she had lost, yet she was still deep in thought, trying to out maneuver her imaginary opponent.

Her situation in real life was rather similar. She knew that she had been thrown into the Games unprepared. Her opponents were going to be experienced, clever, and strong. Just the fact that she came from Nine put her at a disadvantage. She wasn't ready to give up on her life yet. She had always been very good at mind games, and in that was what the Hunger Games was- a mind game. Over the next few days, she would be doing a lot of watching, and she was ready for it. She had to identify a good group for an alliance. She knew that tributes exelled when they had someone to rely on. That was why careers won so often. Not because they were trained, although that most certainly helped, but because they didn't go through the Games alone.

She already knew that Ghram wasn't an option though. She'd only known him for a couple of hours, and it was pretty clear that he was impulsive. He wasn't predictable enough to be trusted. In the arena, he could do anything, and if she ticked him off, she was pretty sure he'd turn on her in an instant. She needed someone more mellow, someone who would rely on her.

With a thoughtful sigh, Zea pressed her thumb to her lip, and moved one of her game pieces forwards. The next couple of weeks were going to be complicated, but not impossible. The Capitol always had their victor. She just had to play things right.

District Eleven:

Damien Creast (17) and Cree Ophelia (18)

Cree woke up gently to the feeling of sun light streaming through her window. With a small smile, she jumped to her feet and walked over to her mirror. Life as a tribute wasn't so bad. They had fed her and Damien an absolutely fabulous meal the previous night, and their rooms looked like they came straight out of victor's village. She couldn't wait to see what the Capitol had in store for them in for the next week. She couldn't wait. With an excited sigh, she ran into the bathroom and started getting dressed. They were scheduled to arrive in the Capitol at noon today. Her heart soared just thinking about it.

Rubin Royal and Porcelain Braavos were the District One tributes this year. Of course, they weren't her first choice, but it was going to feel amazing to see someone from home. Even the Capitol people had been a breath of fresh air from the dirty homeless of Eleven.

Hurrying through a slightly altered version of her morning routine, Cree glided out into the hallway and towards the main lounge compartment, where the smell of bacon and eggs radiated through the air. With an elated smile on her face, she burst into the room. Damien was sitting at the table already as one of the Avox's made his plate for him at the buffet. Seeder sat beside him chatting idly whilst Chaff lounged on the coach, watching the television, a canister of whiskey already in his hands.

"Mourning," Cree said as she walked over to the buffet and started filling her plate.

"Sleep well?" Damien asked with a smile.

"Yeah," Cree responded with a shrug. Damien seemed nice enough. He was needy though. From the moment he got on the train, he had an Avox waiting on his hand and foot. Honestly, he couldn't do anything by himself. Obviously he wasn't going to last a minute once the Games started. At least he didn't come from the slums though. Cree didn't have to tolerate any sort of odor or ill manners around him, which she appreciated. As far as District partners went, she wasn't too upset about him. Not that it would matter, as once the Games started, she would be with the careers.

"That's good," Damien said as he took a bite of his food. While her back was turned, Damien stole an attentive glance at his District partner. These next couple hours were going to be crucial to him. If he was going keep up his blind facade, he needed an ally in the arena, which wasn't going to an easy thing to find. Cree was an obvious go to choice. As his District partner, he already had a pre-established rapport with her. He needed this alliance. Keeping up the blind act could save him.

Sitting beside Seeder, Cree began to eat. She wasn't interested in too much conversation with Damien. As she had said, he was a nice guy, but she had no interest in him. He had nothing to give her.

Beside him, Damien had Seeder wrapped around his fingers. The woman was extremely sympathetic and had an almost tired air about her. Clearly she felt bad for him, and he enjoyed the sympathy. He didn't want to talk to her at the moment though, he was focused on Cree. "So Cree, I was wondering about your plan for the arena," Damien said clearing his throat.

Cree gave him a side long look, knowing that he couldn't register her expression. It worried him. "I'm going to join the careers," she said bluntly.

Damien bit his lip. "Yeah? I mean, are you sure about that?"

Cree snorted. "I was at the academy for a couple of years when I was little. I know Porcelain and Rubin, of course I'm sure," she said incredulously.

Chaff made a gurgling noise on the coach and lifted his head up. "You had training?" he asked, his words slightly slurred.

"Yeah."

"Oh, well see, I was wondering if you'd want to be my ally?" Damien asked with a soft smile.

Cree rolled her eyes. "Damien, you seem nice, but you should just accept that you're not going to be going very far. I'm going to be with the careers, end of discussion," she said bluntly.

"Oh well, good luck with the careers I guess. Let me know if you want to reconsider," Damien muttered. He dipped his head so that no one could see his eyes darkening. He could feel Seeder's comforting hand on his back. So Cree had denied him. No matter, he would just have to work a little harder in training. He would have an ally by the start of things though, someone better than Cree. He had no doubt, he had these Games in the bag.

A/N Finale got this chapter out, sorry it took so long, but again my computer access has been sketchy. Honestly, I'm not that happy with this chapter. It was a bit rushed because I didn't want too much time to pass without an update. Hopefullly the next one will be a bit better as far as quality is concerned. Any who, I have the poll results for you.

Here's how the votes for favorite character panned out:

Whisper Raleigh and Crescent Lolium are tied for first with 5 votes each

Auden Eneis, Airin la Aguilla, Dust Lectart, and Ranger Capen are tied for second with 4 votes each

Rocio Greivers is in third with 3 votes

Mae Themis, Avanna Welcher, Damien Creast, Cree Ophelia, Burnet Stevens, and Cutter Wryer all got 2 votes

Porcelain Braavos, Petro Joule, Kan Murcius, and Dice Bromton all got 1 vote

Vlad Pekelo, Alexis Hayden, Rowan Diatello, Ghram Aintree, and Zea Bachmeier didn't get any votes.

Just to reiterate this point: The poll has no affect on the outcome of the Games. I already have the victor picked. There are people with no votes that will get far, and there are people with votes that won't. I can guarantee some of your opinions will change as you get to know these characters better.

Until next time.