The Arrival

District 7 Female: Bouddica Rhannag POV

I slept fitfully last night and couldn't stop thinking about my mum. I had a bad dream and woke up crying and that's when I went to Scotch's room. He was comforting and assertive, just like my mum would have been. We talked about our families back home and he told me about his brothers and sister. He's very lucky because he has both a mum and a dad.

He let me fall asleep in his bed and he laid on the floor so he could be nearby in case I had another dream. I really love my big brother and I'm so sad that we will only know each other for a short time. A tear slides down my face as I look out the window of the train. I quickly brush the tear to the side and take a big sigh.

"Hey there little butterfly," says Scotch as he sits down at the breakfast table. Butterfly is the nickname he made for me because he said that I remind him so much of a butterfly and even had the hairpiece at the reapings for it. "Small, pretty, and nimble," he said.

Our mentor Maple walks in and sits down as well. "I've just heard that we're only a few minutes to the train station," she says. "You're both going to need to be playing the likeable tribute angle so make sure to make a positive impression as soon as the train pulls in. The people you see out there may be your future sponsors, so impress them."

The scenery quickly starts to change from empty wasteland to tall, impressive looking buildings. "Scotch, come look at this!" I say excitedly.

Scotch comes over to the window seat where I am sitting and leans close to the window. "Wow! I've never seen anything like it!" he exclaims.

"Isn't my homeland beautiful children? Aren't you glad that we all get to spend time here together?" Asks Lavinia.

"Oh yes Lavinia," I say as I look back at her, "I wish you could give us tour around the city." For a capitol escort, Lavinia's not so bad. She sees the games as what they really are and genuinely seems to care about us. We're very lucky to have such a kind mentor and escort.

I had thought about the capitol before, but I had never dreamed it would be so…massive. Everything is on a larger than life scale.

The train starts to slow as we chug into the station. And then I see them… the people, but they don't look like people. They, just like the capitol, are larger than life. They are all clamoring to get to see us at the window, and at first, I am scared. But then Maple says, "Remember, be likeable!"

As if on cue, I start to wave and smile. The show is on, the camera's are rolling. Game on Capitol!

District 6 Male- Jono Morales POV

The train finally slows to a stop and instead of the roar of the train, I hear the roar of the anxious capitolians. They hope to get a glimpse of the new tributes and perhaps, if they're lucky, rub shoulders with this year's victor. I don't know what to do with myself. It's not that I'm scared, I'm just really, really nervous. My palms start to sweat and I start to shake a little.

Apell, our escort, opens the door for us and Haze and I walk out and are immediately hit by the mob of people. It doesn't get physically harmful, but the crowd is very oppressive, trying to grab hold of us and shouting. The display is shameful at best. A controlled anger boils up inside of me. This is the anger I've lived with ever since the underground group. This is the cynicism, the selfishness, and the cold disinterestedness that I have harbored for years. I feel it inside me.

With those feelings swirling around I glance around, nose high. I give glares where glares are needed. I look bored and annoyed to all who see me. It's because I am. I thought I would have to hide who I am with these spectators, but I guess they bring the real me out. Who cares what they think? I know I'll be too dead to care.

As we are nearing the car that will take us to the remake center, the screams lessen. "Amazing work Jono!" says Marcus. "I think we now know what angle you'll be playing."

"I thought they hated me," I said.

"Maybe they did, but every show needs the selfish and heartless character. Every Hunger Games needs a selfish and heartless tribute…this year, that's you," he says.

At least we're being honest about this. At least everyone feels free to admit that I am the way I am and isn't lying about it. This is the way I am, and if one good thing, saving my life, could come out of it, then so be it.

I turn to look at Haze, my district partner. She looks a little shell shocked and confused, not scared, but confused. I am suddenly rushed with other feelings of caring and pity. I put my arm around her shoulder and she looks up at me questioningly. "Whoa, I could have fallen there!" I say as I pretend to stumble. I feel awkward about putting my arm around her. "I don't care about her," I think, "I'm number one."

District 1 Male- Caleb McKinney

We are lead, once again, by peacekeepers into the remake center. The building is as gleaming white as the peacekeeper's uniforms. And once we get inside, it's not much different. The whole building gives the impression of immaculate cleanliness.

I am lead into a large room and Isis is lead into another. We give each other a look that says goodbye. Two avoxes come and start to unbutton my shirt and take off my shoes. At first I resist, but then I understand what they're doing. More people in white come in as the avoxes undress me. They lead me over to a place I think is called a shower, where I am scrubbed down and cleaned up.

You would think that washing all of the uncleanliness off would feel refreshing and comforting, but instead it feels uncomfortable and rough. The prep team that is cleaning me up is not very careful at all and I wonder what Isis's team is like.

My team is composed of an older male and a young female. The man has silvery hair with flecks of purple. His skin is a baked brown color, which is probably from all of the dying it has gone through. The woman has bright green waist-length hair. Lining her eyebrows are iridescent pearls.

They shape my eyebrows, clean beneath my nails, which have become very gritty. My teeth are the same way and they apply some solution that whitens them. They look me over…which makes me about as uncomfortable as I have been this whole time. "Let's send for the stylist," says the young one.

"What wonders we have worked!" says the old one.

After they head out in search of my, thus far, nameless stylist, I get down from the table I was laying on to look in the mirror. I look like a much healthier version of myself, but I don't look any happier.

District 4 Male- Marlin Syke POV

I look in the mirror at myself. I have to admit that the prep team did a pretty good job of improving me. I look clean, polished, and to the peak of human ability. I think of how superior I will look to all of the other male tributes, towering over them. That includes that boy from two.

"Well, handsome man," says an extremely made over woman who I'm assuming is my stylist. "Oh, you've given me so much to work with… so much," she says as she grabs my muscle and pinches it. I look down at her and wink. She gives a little giggle. "Oh my!"

"After seeing well… the quality of the tributes that we were getting this year, Maks and I came up with a diddy of outfits for you and the girl to wear," she says. I wonder if diddy is even a word, and if so, what does it mean?

"Ta-da!" she shouts as she holds out… a black speedo?

"Is there anything more?" I ask.

"Oh no dear!" she says with a laugh. "You see, we decided to go with a swimming theme this year including risqué bathing suits!"

"Including? That's all there is!" I say. All there is is a little speedo to cover up my 7 foot muscular frame.

"What were you thinking?!" I scream.

"Dear… think clearly now," she says cowering back, "With looks such as the ones you and your district partner possess, you will certainly attract sponsors… and how do I say this…the less clothing… the better," she says.

I can live with that. Anything that can give me a leg up in the games, anything I can sacrifice for the win, I'll do it.