I know it's been a long time, but our internet provider switched systems, and so we lost wifi this week. :-( But I can finally post a chapter, Yeah! Thanks to Annabeth-TheTributeThatLived for Maureen, and a guest for Mark.

"Did they come up with anything for after the reaping?" Maureen stepped in from outside, wishing there was enough food for breakfast. Mom had them skip the morning meal, so they could have a larger supper. The only problem being, they might not even have a bite for supper.

Mitchel shook his head, bending down to lace up his boots, "Nope, haven't heard anything, Dad's down at the Hob, he might trade something."

"What's he found to trade?"

"I can't let Mom know." He glanced out the open window, before whispering, "It's one of Mom's art pieces, Dad thought a peacekeeper might like a bit of class."

Maureen snorted. Her mom saved these art pieces, saying they were from her family's pre-dark day's business, too special to get rid of. Yes, she thought they were pretty, but what could you do with them in the Seam? Hopefully someone else could appreciate their value, at least enough for food.

"Which one did he take?" She sat down on the three legged stool, balancing carefully, as one peg was broken.

Mitchel shrugged, "Some piece made by the R guy."

"Renoir?" Maureen gasped, that piece was beautiful, her grey eyes grew stormy at the thought of loosing that piece.

"You really shouldn't wear that tank top, you're too skinny for it."

She scowled at her brother, "I like this shirt, what made you think you can tell me what to wear?"

He shrugged as he stood up, "Just saying I can see all your ribs, it's like announcing we haven't eaten a good meal in a month."

She rolled her grey eyes, "No one's eating well, Mitchell, and at least we can show the Capitol how they treat us."

Mark Thorne

"Give me a fair price," Mark scowled at the overweight merchant man. He hadn't gone out at midnight to catch this bird, just to get cheated at noon.

The man frowned, rubbing his chin thoughtfully, "Well, I need a nice bird for our party tonight, will you take some of this corn?" He held out his basket, inadvertently showing his whole catch to Mark eyes.

Mark eyed the corn, his mouth watering for the sweet taste. It was still in its husk, he could only imagine how well his Mom would make it. But now he could also see the red berries, and grinned at this guys foolishness.

"I'll take some corn, those trays of cranberries, and that bottle of cider" He stared the man down, daring him to argue.

"Guess you could have some berries." he looked into his basket, "But this is my special cider." His voice whined, as pulled the corn from his basket.

"You have more at home, you want the bird or not?" Time to cinch this deal, not haggle.

The man sighed, frustrated at being out traded by this Seam kid. "Here's your stuff," he handed over the coveted food, "Enjoy it." He mumbled, as he placed the pheasant in his own basket.

Mark didn't need told twice. This was going to be a special feast, corn, berries, and a bottle of hard cider.

Crossing her arms, tapping her black and white heels, Albany decided this district was just as bad, maybe even worse than she had pictured. Everyone back home talked about these places like idyllic country cottages, which was really far from the truth. Albany couldn't stand how dusty this district was, every surface was so dingy, it was getting her perfect gloves terribly dirty. And she was trying so hard not to touch anything.

She stepped out of the cramped escort's room, and approached the open foyer. There were two district 12 victor, both won when she was just old enough to enjoy the games. Twelve, and fifteen years ago. Used to be three victors, but Haymitch Abernathy had died, drunkenly wandering in front of the coal train. At least that was what was said on the news.

"I'm Albany," she held out her gloved hand, batting her long black eyelashes at the male victor.

He stood, touching her shoulder, and forcing her backwards. "Snider, you've probably heard of me."

"Yes," she smiled, and turned to the woman, "You're Raquel?"

She rolled her eyes, "No, I'm the man in the moon? Who else could I be?"

Albany bit her lip, confused by these victors' brusque manners.

"Listen," Snider began to pace, "Just gonna tell you now. You can't expect 12 to win. Remember that in 75 years, we've won only three times."

Albany's eyes widened, "Actually," she began, correcting his obvious mistake.

"No," Raquel shouted, making Albany nearly jump out of her heels "You cannot mention those two, especially not in twelve." Her eyes sent daggers at the escort, "Never, not to the tributes, not to us, not to anyone, while you are the escort here."

Albany shook her head slowly, confused by Raquel's words.

"It's something you learn in 12," Snider spoke softly, "They killed Haymitch for those two, they kill anyone who brings them up here, their pictures aren't even on the wall of tributes."

"They killed Haymitch?" Albany's voice rose, "What are you talking about?"

Raquel stood, grabbing the escort by the velvet collar, "Listen," she hissed, "you are probably the stupidest escort I've ever seen. So, you know I don't want to get killed, you better just shut up, and don't bring up Haymitch, or that girl!" She let go up the fabric, allowing the escort to collapse on the floor.

Snider tried to smooth things over, grabbing Albany's neck, and pulling her to her feet, "You just got on Raquel's nerves, we have to do this to all our escorts, so you aren't actually the stupidest, maybe just the slowest." Raquel glared at him, daring Snider to contradict her once more.

Albany decided to lean against the wall, ignoring the dust that would coat her white skirt. The question dawned on her, and she just had to ask. "Are you two saying that this district is mistreated?"

Raquel rolled her eyes, "I've got to go get some fresh air.' She slammed past Snider, storming out the doors.

Snider shuffled nervously, "We just have to be on our guard. The Capitol had made a point to not let our kids win, I'm not even sure how Raquel and I even made it. Of course, we might not have wanted to win, if we had realized our hellish future."

Albany shook her head, her voice rising in shock at his impudence,"Our Capitol would never rig the games!"

"Come on, don't blind yourself." His grey eyes looked into her intensely, as he shook his head at another escort's unseeing picture of the games. He warned them every year, but it was pretty much the same stupid reaction.

"Don't get close, or fall in love with these tributes. If they live, I'll end up dead." He stepped back, watching her facial muscles twist at his words. He barely kept back a round of laughter at her open mouth. She would live, and never breathe a word of this conversation, the escorts never would admit to each other how depressing twelve really was.

Albany stood seemingly frozen in shock by what she'd just heard. Ruby had told her 12 wasn't that bad of a district, but obviously she had had a different experience with these insane victors. Capitol interference with the games was utter nonsense, she must put those silly ideas out of her head. And she knew how to do that, focus on something much more pleasant, like applying another coat of silver nail polish to ones' nails.

Ok, I'm not going to write a square/reaping deal, it's going to be covered in the recaps anyway. Hope that's alright.