Lacey Weaver (12) D8F

"This is amazing!" Lacey yelled as soon as she stepped into the train. She had known that the world was a beautiful place, but she had always thought that her father was one of the richest people around. She had no idea that the Capitol simple things, like trains, could possibly be so much more elegant and gorgeous than the home she had once known. "We get to stay here?"

"It's a goodbye gift. 'Sorry we're killing you, here's some candy!'" Yarnn replied, quickly stepping across the car they had just entered in search of her own room. Lacey stared up at her in confusion. The Capitol wasn't the one saying goodbye to her, it was the District, and this train car was provided by the Capitol.

"What do you mean they're killing us?" Lacey asked, running to catch up with the much taller sixteen-year-old. "We get to live in the Capitol now, right?"

Yarnn looked down at Lacey with eyes full of pity. "You really don't know much about the Games, do you?" she asked Lacey, slowly realizing that the girl wasn't faking her optimism. She really thought everything was all right.

Lacey shook her head. "Mom said that the Reaped tributes get to live in the Capitol. She said they never got to see their families again unless they won some huge competition, but it was dangerous, so I should avoid it. So I'll just stay here!"

"That's not an option. In about two weeks, all of us are going to be fighting. It's going to be long, and hard, and whoever lives the longest gets to come home. Sorry to break it to you like that, but you need to go in prepared," Yarn said, thinking she could have put it more calmly. Lacey shook her head.

"That's impossible! They couldn't just kill little kids like that. You've got to be lying to me," Lacey said, but her eyes were watering up. Suddenly, it clicked in her mind why that girl had been so scared at the Reaping. Suddenly, all the crying that happened every year made perfect sense. She was being thrown into the realization that the Capitol was a place of horrors, and the candies really were a death gift.

"How about you come to my room?"

Yarnn Ashen (16) D8F

"You see, this happens a lot. Everybody has seven chances to get Reaped. Some people say six, but you have to include twelve and eighteen. Anyways, now that we're been Reaped, we have to go to the Parade, and then we get to train. We get a week of training. Then we have to go to the interviews and private sessions, where we get a score. Then we go into the Games, where we have to fight to live. We have to get our own supplies, and we have to try and kill everyone else," Yarnn explained to Lacey, who was crying on the couch. Yarnn frowned. She didn't want to hurt the child that much.

"It all makes so much sense now. My parents were so scared when I got Reaped," Lacey said, between sobs. "I'm going to die."

"Not necessarily! You might be able to get some good allies, and people like to send gifts to the tributes. That's us. And two people get to live this year! Usually it's only one," Yarnn said, deciding not to include the fact that Lacey was up against so many more people than normal. That would just crush the kid even more than she already had.

"I guess. But what's the point of trying? I'm like half as tall as you are, and there were a ton of people. I saw some of the recaps," Lacey said, lying on the bed dejectedly. Yarnn moved over to her.

"You know, while we're on the train, we can't very well train. We may as well enjoy ourselves, and I hear that Capitol candy is like heaven on Earth," Yarnn said, hoping Lacey didn't remember her previous comment about candy.

"You said those were death gifts."

"But they won't kill us faster!" Yarnn said, faking the same optimism she had thought Lacey was faking minutes earlier. "C'mon. Let's just see... We can order candy over here, and there it comes!" Yarnn pressed a bunch of buttons, hoping to get a bunch of candy. Sure enough, various types of chocolates and sweets came pouring out of a tube on the wall.

"That's more chocolate than I get in a year," Lacey said, popping a handful into her mouth.

"That's more chocolate than I've had in my life."

Damask Rockwell (18) D8M

"Well, I could get used to this!' Damask said, settling himself in the room. He had wanted to comfort the crying girl - Lacey, he thought her name was - but Yarnn was already talking to her, and he thought he might intimidate the child. She was so small, and he was so much bigger. Besides that, he was a boy, and she was a girl. That automatically made it harder to have a discussion than it could have been. Instead of getting involved in all that drama Damask decided to sit in his room and plan for the near future.

Reclining on his bed, Damask tried to figure out how to turn on the television. He pressed buttons wildly, moving his bed, changing the tint of the window, turning on and off multiple lights, and finally flipping the television on. He set the remote down after that, figuring that he'd stumble upon his true goal, the Reaping recaps, later, and not wanting to mess anything else up. He perked up a bit when he realized that all that was playing was recaps, and he tried to assess every tribute that came on the screen.

Volunteer from One. Surprise, surprise. Girl seems confident. Boy was Reaped? Not volunteered for. Contender, no point in trying to ally with either. Next. All volunteers. One crazy thirteen-year-old. RIP, dude. Couldn't you wait? Why am I even watching these recaps? Careers won't ally. Next. Two girls from three. One shaky, one confident. Oh dear. Maybe the confident one will be cool. Dude seems cool enough. Maybe he's seeking allies? Even if he's not, there are a lot of contenders. Four. Skip. Five. Girl does not look okay. Hopefully the Capitol will patch her up. Not a solid ally. Dude seems pretty strong. Maybe he's ally-worthy. Already through five Districts? This is boring.

Damask's thoughts were scattered while he watched the Reaping recaps. There were so many things to be worried about that he could hardly make himself look at the screen, much less pay his complete attention to it. His job required attention, but that was low-stress. His life hadn't been on the line there for years. Now one wrong move could kill him, and he couldn't even stare at a screen.

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Chapter written by Silver