Capitol Preparation

Vinnicia Blushweather, 36 years old, Gamemaker

One hour before arrival

The president wants to see you now. No...why now?! Why? I thought I was safe, thought I was with the right people, thought I was doing perfect. I don't even have the luxury to walk to the president's residence and am taken away in blindfolds to her office.

I need to get out. My hands are strapped to some arm rests, legs bound together, duct tape closed around my mouth, and eyes firmly shut. It doesn't take long before the president releases the blindfold covering my eyes. I try to scream but she hushes me, sliding her finger where my mouth would be. "Do you know why you're here?"

I shake my head no. I can't reveal too much. The boss will still kill me even if I get out here alive. The president adopts a snake grin and titters to herself. "It's a shame you caught me so close to the beginning of the hunger games," she says. "You do know I get a bit more sadistic this time of year."

The duct tape begins to loosen. It's about to fall off naturally when she reaches up and yanks it off. I scream in pain for too long of a time and breathe heavily. "I did what had to be done."

"Yet you tipped your hand too much," she says coldly. "You realize that death is imminent for you. We lost a copy of a map and do you know where it is?" I shake my head and she rolls her eyes. "If I wasn't the president I'd let you go. Now that I am, you're just going to have to go like our other prisoners At the very least you had great ideas in recovering the original designs from Disney. I refuse to learn how you did it, but recovery is truly going to be a lost art when you're gone in a blaze of glory."

She leaves the massive expanse, heels clicking behind her. "Don't worry about your family, they've all been taken care of." It's the last thing I hear before the massive warehouse fills with gas and I'm knocked out.

Jon Cheris, 14 years old, District 5 Male

District 5 prep room: 30 minutes post arrival

The bathrobe sits at the edge of the sofa I wait on. It's pristinely white and almost blinding. If it was in the arena then it could probably be a trap, something to cover over someone, and maybe I can use the strap to tie some clothes together? Maybe use it as a tripwire? Or something to strangle?

I push those thoughts out of my head and focus on the television in front of me. Some ugly dude, labeled as Calieron Edgebono, with black hair and black eyes and yellow teeth, speaks on behalf of his girlfriend and his girlfriend's mother about the reaping. On another half of the screen is a live feed of the favorites. Like yesterday they've been cycling through favorites, with drastic changes being noted as the quell brings in much more money than usual. It's the same thing though, District 4, 2, 1, 13, 7, 9, 11, 6 all cycling through the favorites and barely paying attention to any of us from 3, 10, 12, 8, or 5.

I'm worried. I begin to feel a cold shiver down my spine from the vent and put on the bathrobe. I continue watching the feed, seeing my name and Nidawi's flip back and forth often, maybe cycling with the girl from District 3. The magazine in front of me shows my height at 5'4" and several bits of trivia. It scares me how quickly they got those facts.

The door opens and a snippy looking man comes in with scissors open. "Please take off your bathrobe or I'll cut it off," he says. I do as he says slowly but he claps at me to quicken my pace. "Please drink that water over there," he says while pointing to a cup. I gulp the contents of it down and stand perfectly still. He's not unattractive but I still feel uncomfortable after all the trimming and scrubbing they've done with me.

He touches a portion of the wall to reveal something simple. "A striped polo and blue shorts?" I ask reluctantly.

"It would do you some good to ask for my name, Jon."

"Then what is your name?"

"Avante Delace," he says flamboyantly. Somehow I can see Yusef doing that exact same gesture. "This year the president and interviewer wished for the chariot outfits to be simple but attractive."

Gesticulating wildly, he picks up the outfit and holds it to me. "I know that even in District 5 they have stuff like this, so please put it on."

The polo slides over my head easily, even though the head hole seems slightly triangular and roomy as a result. I slide on the underwear given with the outfit and the shorts, finding them a better fit. "Fits well," I note.

"It should," he says disdainfully. "Let's see how you walk in them before you put on your shoes."

Avante holds up two blue sneakers. "That's it?" he nods, bored. "It's a fine outfit if you're mad at that."

"Thank you dear but that isn't it. I wanted this year to challenge me, so that I could prevail among all the other artists challenged and hold it as bragging rights," he sighs. I put on the sneakers and he brightens up, letting me pose, jump, and smile in the outfit. It's fake but he seems to smile. His notes that he lays flat on the table reads that this outfit is of Phineas Flynn from the Phineas and Ferb universe. "When he knew what he was going to do today he looked just like you, except as a redhead."

He turns up the volume on the television, revealing a poll that describes who supports who. With only one or two exceptions, I don't think District 5 has generated much buzz among the capitol. Neither has District 8 but a lot more people are focused on them, looking at three previous victors, Niccety Burnage, Cecelia Turner, and Wendell Stitches to show how well they've done.

The polls now flicker back and forth to an image of the all time victor rankings and images of old kills. A feed of a boy from District 5 (I know from the red hair and tanned skin) is cut off abruptly and replaced with an image of the very first kills, the District 5 boy driving a pickaxe into the girl and the girl throwing a knife into his eye. I gulp, knowing that Nidawi wouldn't do that but still unsettled nonetheless.

"Let's head down," Avante commands, holding the door open. I dive under his frivolous outfit and duck into the elevator. I'm among the first 6 to arrive. Most of the other tributes I've seen are taller than I, but there are like four I think are shorter. I'm still intimidated by the sheer size of where the chariots wait. "Do you know where your chariot is?"

"I can read," I grumble as Avante tries to point me in my direction. The fifth chariot is empty and in between a chariot painted like the sea and a chariot painted like a bullet train. I wait in my yellow painted chariot for Nidawi, hoping that they aren't giving her a beak.

Antoinette Vermur, 18 years old, District 2 Female

Chariot Prep, 40 minutes before Parade Start

"My oh my look at this lovely warrior," I hear a compliment come from my left. I turn with a smile on my face and my bun high in the air. The District 1 girl is swaggering up to me in her purple gown that leaves little of her breasts to the imagination. "Look at this strong stud right here, tell me, your name is?"

"An," I say confidently. She recoils in shock before resting her elbow on my shoulder pads. "Antoinette Vermur."

"Ah," she says pensively. "You look just as studdingly beautiful as the guys back home."

With a half smile I pick up on what she wants me to do and curl her close to me. "I take it, dear maiden, that we are in fact guaranteed together?"

"Oh but of course," she says with a wink. "Would not want to bring dishonor upon all of our cows, would we?"

"That we would not," I say, a bit confused. She titters and tries to talk with me but is upstaged by the District 4 boy, shirtless and in a grass skirt. The District 1 girl goes to dive behind the chariot for a while. I can hear a scream before she comes out, just as pristine looking but a bit frazzled. "And who might you be?"

"Regan Attwater," he says seductively. He holds his hand out in a lax handshake gesture, which I take surprisingly smoothly. "Who are we waiting on?"

"My partner, Desmond Pick," I say promptly.

"And mine," the District 1 girl says. "The name is Layla. Just rolls off your tongue, doesn't it?"

"Sure does," Regan says. "So do we want it to be just the original careers?"

"I don't see a problem with that," Layla from District 1 says. "It would be fun if we got District 9 and 7 under us."

"It's tradition for District 2 not to attack District 8," I say defensively. "But I don't think that we'll let them in," I add in a hushed whisper. The three of us wait, looking around our three chariots and waiting for our partners.

First to come down is my District partner, who is dressed in some old culture's armor that highlights his muscles well. "Good evening, ladies and gentlemen" he says politely. "The name is Desmond Pick."

Layla and Regan both hold out their hands to him. I can see that they're both trying to compete as a seductor or a seductress. It's almost comical. The elevator next brings down three dark skinned tributes, two girls on opposite ends of height and a dark skinned scared boy-the mayor's son- in the center. The girl sees us and hastens up, to Layla's jeers.

The next elevators come in quick succession. The girl looks to be Regan's partner, whose in a similar designed skirt and red shirt ensemble. I recognize the boy who trails behind her as Layla's nervous District partner, who is clutching something in his hands tightly. He waves kindly and introduces himself and the girl. "I'm Nikos and this is Kim, right?"

"Yeah, you got it," she says enthusiastically. She's fairly slender for someone who looks to be a rescuer, about the same height as the rest of us. "So, traditional?"

Regan winks and stretches his arms, flexing his muscles as he stretches. "I think we need to make way," he says with a laugh. A small girl is coming in our direction. "Are you lost?"

"No," she says as calmly as she can muster. She has four circular plates, one on each of her wrists and ankles, and a yellow helmet. "I-I think that's my chariot you're talking in front of."

"Is it?" Nikos says with an almost uncomfortable sneer. "Let's go then, you clearly need to get in front of it now." The sense of sarcasm is definitely tangible right now. Layla and Desmond let out a light chuckle and Nikos' face seems to light up under his curly hair.

"Umm," we hear a boy ask. "Is something the matter? Why are you guys in front of our chariot?"

I turn to him, glancing down at his small frame. Like his partner, he's fairly short, but actually seems to be on the taller side of teens in his district if I remember his age correctly. "Listen, we'll be moving in time for the chariots, don't get your knickers in a twist."

He turns away frowning but talking to the short girl comfortingly. I'm sure they'll get over it. Desmond and I decide to retreat to our chariot when the massive clock on one wall says that it's five minutes before launch. I send a flirtatious wink to Layla, who giggles, and turn to Desmond. "Nothing wrong with harmless interaction, right?"

"Nothing wrong with that, but I don't know about you, but I just kind of want to practice stoicism," he says almost jokingly. "Scope out the others."

"As in-"

"Not that way. Never felt that way nor do I desire to," he explains. I take his hint and look to the left of me as Layla and Nikos pile into their chariots. On my right I can see Desmond craning his neck to look at some of the threats down the line. I can barely see District 2's usual partner District, 8, in between the crowd of people. I still think that they may be useful, but I'm going to have to talk with them privately.

The clock hits 4 minutes until launch when I notice just how simply a majority of us are dressed. It's a distracting thought but I keep taking a glance at the District 3 tributes, who kind of more out there and futuristic than the polo wearing District 5 boy or the red gown wearing District 10 girl. "Looks like it's about time," Desmond says. I snap out of my distracting thought and face him. I can hear District 1's chariot roll out of its keep just as we both face forward.

When we lurch forward, the Hunger Games have begun, and we're all too willing to participate.

Hey Guys, Hopps here

I bet you guys didn't think I'd update this fast! So, I hope you enjoyed this quick little chapter about Capitol prep. I do mention some victor names in this chapter but they will be covered in another fanfiction, my work titled 'A Century and a Half of Hunger Games' so if you'd like a bit more information on worldbuilding be sure to check that out (87th Victor so far :))

So this time around I'll ask you guys if you have a...preferred execution method for your characters. If you need inspiration I'd suggest looking back at the prologue chapters for some ideas, and there will be one next chapter for the Parade. They can be as elaborate as you want.

Sponsor Questions:

1. How old is Vinnicia? (1 point)

2. Describe the first kills of the Hunger Games (2 points)

3. Which District tries to pass by the careers as they talk? (3 points)

Hopping out,

Hopps