'But I don't want to go among mad people,' Alice remarked.
'Oh, you can't help that,' said the Cat. 'We're all mad here.

- Alice in Wonderland


District One was old-fashioned, traditional as far as their reaping practices went. They began with selecting a female tribute first. In Two and Four, reapings began with male tributes. They were outlandish and absurd, but would probably assimilate well with the Capitolites.

The first to be reaped was a young woman in her mid-teens with luxurious, black hair. As she elegantly made her way to the stage, she postured to the crowd. She was attractive, but entirely too, too overdressed for a reaping, and he wasn't sure if that was even possible. The aquamarine-haired escort asked for volunteers, and a blonde girl called out from the one of the sections towards the back. As she made her way through the crowd, the audience stared at her in utter disbelief.

When she replaced the reaped girl, who was sent back into the crowd, they burst into hysterical cheers, overwhelming even the escort who tried to look enthused. Malee gazed on with a smugness Cato hadn't thought was possible of the bubble-brained woman.

"Ah, I think they like you," the escort said to her, still trying to recover from the moment, "Introduce yourself, honey."

The steaming blonde had to mask an expression of dismay, and only said sweetly, "Glimmer Maxwell."

"For the boys," the escort remarked, pulling a name from the bowl, "Marvel Sinclair."

Marvel quickly made his way towards the stage and by the look on the crowd's face as he turned up the last stair, he wasn't interested in being replaced. He flashed the escort a winning smile, shook her hand, and waited as she asked for volunteers. When no one stepped forward, he gave the crowd a wide smile, and before he could do anything else, the tributes were escorted off stage.

Capitol commentators took this moment to insert their own assessments, which Cato ignored as he began scribbling notes onto his paper.

He stared at the paper blankly when he realized he didn't actually remember District Ones' names and stole a glance at Clove's sheet, which had cartoon doodles of the their faces, focused on their most prominent features, which she'd evidently decided were the blonde girl's heavily made up eyes, and the male tribute's curly brown mop.

In his notes, he labeled them as 'sexpot' and 'cherub.'

District Two followed, with the replay showcasing Cato stalking forward, a strong, determined expression on his face. He kept a stoic repertoire throughout the reaping, only lapsing for a brief moment when no one stepped forward to claim the female tribute position. The cameras seemed to purposefully omit Magnilda crying. Clove exhaled in relief at that.

"You seem displeased by the turn of events," Athena said to him, after the replay of their reaping.

Felix answered the underlying question in Athena's statement. "You'll have to become acquainted with that expression real quick. It's one Cato seems to always wear whenever he's thinking too much."

"And what were you thinking of?" Athena asked him, trying to decide what approach to take with the tall, limber blonde.

In forced politeness, he coolly said, "I was thinking 'where the fuck is Dahlia?'"


"She's dead," Nero told him, his face closing in on the videophone monitor. He shrugged, "Or at least that's what the Southern girls were saying on their way out of the square."

Felix clenched his teeth together, "She better hope so, because if not, she'll definitely be when I get home."

The other end was silent for a moment, before Nero asked him, "Where are you, Felix?"

"You've guess it by now, Nee. So just say it."

"Felix. Why would you put yourself in this position?" Nero asked.

"It's not like either of you are eligible to. At least we know I'll do the best I can."

"I believe that, Felix. It's just..." Nero sighed, morosely. "Are they okay?"

"They're..." Felix stopped for a second, looking around behind him, "acting like it's business as usual. It's a little worrisome, actually, because they're not acting like a team."

"Keep a close eye on them. Don't let them get disqualified before the games have even begun."

"They wouldn't risk their glory to scruff up another tribute," Felix reassured him.

"No, not the other tributes."

Felix frowned.

"With each other," Dicey clarified. "Cato and Clove aren't exactly on the best terms right now."

"What do you mean they're not on the best terms?" Felix balked, thinking of the various strategies they would ruin with that admission.

Nero shook his head warily, "They were together, for at least a short period of time, and then there was a breakup."

"That's real fucking wonderful," Felix said sarcastically, but after contemplating the thought, added, "Actually, it is a lot better than the alternative, though. Which is them pulling some 'in fair Verona' shit."

"You've read Romeo and Juliet?"

"You're missing the point."

"If you wanna test your endurance, call em star-crossed lovers and see how long it takes for one of them to tear out your esophagus," Dicey teased him, trying to diffuse the morbidity.

The black-haired teen leaned in forward and waved them away tiredly, "I'm off. Try not to wet yourselves while I'm gone. I'll be in touch."


He now had several lined pages filled with mostly useless data and unkind nicknames. His notes addressed the estimated height and weight of the tributes, as well as anything for him to keep an eye out for, but that wasn't really much. They weren't really much.

This year's selection were a disappointingly boring bunch, in his opinion. Sure, there was cripple kid from Ten (he'd gone the creative route in nicknaming this tribute), but other than the well-built man from Eleven and the "sure to be bloodbath" volunteer from Twelve, it'd been an incredibly unsatisfying reaping.

Deciding he needed more information to assess his competitors on, he left his room and moved towards Clove's room, not even bothering to knock before entering her bedchambers.

Upon seeing the his face, she put on a scowl, "What do you want?"

He had to give it up to Clove to make you feel like you were the lowest form of sentience just by the tone in her voice.

Cato rolled his eyes, "I need to see your notes for cross-referencing."

"No, we're not friends," she rebuffed him, coldly. "You said that."

He stalked forward, a menacing look on his face, and grabbed her throwing wrist, demanding, "Is this about me refusing to fuck you, Clove? Because I'd be more than happy to oblige you."

Clove tore her arm away from his grasp. His arm reached forward, closing in on her, and roughly tore the top half of her silk blouse open. She gawked at him, furious, her face reddening, "Are you crazy? Get off of me!"

"Oh, don't be coy, Clove," Cato smirked. "I'll make it good for you."

She struggled against him, kicking him in the knee, but he kept moving closer to her, entirely unaffected. "Let me go!" she screeched out, desperately.

At this point, she was shaking, and when she focused her eyes on his, she noted a glassy look in them, a distant disconnect and far-off look. This time, Clove hit him in the stomach.

"Don't touch me! Don't ever touch me!" she screeched out, scrambling away from him.

Confusion seeped into his eyes, breaking his nearly mechanical pattern of behavior, and he looked on at her, asking softly, "Clovey?"

She took advantage of his wobbling confusion and jumped onto him, forcing him onto the mattress. Which, while not quite strong enough to do any damage was helpful enough to put her in the upper hand position. He fell onto his back, holding his head, and tears streaming down his face. He touched his cheek, out of place, and moaned in pain.

Now Clove was confused. "I didn't even push you that hard! What are you doing?" Cato clutched his stomach in an agonizing pain and she watched him warily, "What the hell is wrong with you?"

She had meant the question specifically in the context of 'Why are you molesting me?' but he didn't seem cognitively aware enough to understand what was happened around him. Instead he only replied, "I need my pill! Where are they? The pills!"

He blinked his eyes a few times, before falling against the bed. This time she didn't come to his aid.


Author's Note (2012) - I've meant to insert this about a million times, but haven't had the proper scenario yet; District Two residences do not have telephones, only businesses (Hence why Clove had to go to Dicey's house to find out where Cato lived in chapter eleven). Victors and political officers are given videophones and Felix gave one to Nero before leaving on his victory tour.

Written: July 24th, 2012
Edited: April 2nd, 2017