LEONA SOLARI, DISTRICT TWO

12:03 PM, DAY OF THE REAPING CEREMONY, THE TRAIN

Leona wasn't sure what she had expected the interior of the train to look like, but it was so much fancier than she ever could have imagined. The plush white carpet beneath her feet and the regal wooden walls made her feel like any misstep could permanently damage the expensive things within the train car. Even the mahogany furniture looked like it was worth more than anything she had ever laid eyes on, despite coming from one of the most well-off families in District Two. Leona planned to be extra careful not to knock anything over or spill her drink on the floor. It was imperative that she cause as little trouble as possible. She was the Capitol's guest, after all.

Vitus, her District Partner, didn't seem to feel similarly.

The brawny, dark-haired boy had flopped down in an arm chair rather carelessly upon arrival. There was a relaxed way about him that screamed arrogance to Leona. She knew him from their shared time at the Academy, but not well. According to the higher-ups, he showed a great deal of promise. Leona considered him an ally by circumstance before she considered him a formidable opponent.

"You're the Solari kid, right?" Vitus asked as he made himself comfortable.

Leona nodded firmly, "Yes."

"Like I could miss that name… Funny enough, I think I only saw you around the Academy a few times." He said.

"Well, the Academy is quite large." Leona replied as she felt the train gently lurch forward, leaving the station, "I believe I saw you a handful of times, as well. If I recall correctly, you were friends with Alaina Homeweild."

"Yeah, that's right," Vitus drummed his fingers against the arm of the chair, "She's a big reason why I'm here. Told her I'd win the Games for her since she couldn't do it herself."

There was a smile on Vitus' face, but it looked off to Leona. It wasn't a bad smile, but it wasn't a kind one either. It wasn't goofy like Atreus' smile or bashful like Diana's. There was just something about it that was… Off.

"I remember when Alaina sustained her leg injury just before the Reaping. It was most unfortunate. I have no doubt she would have proved to be an efficient Career. Her projected odds showed great promise." Leona recalled, "But it is noble of you to enter the Games in her honor."

"Uh huh," Vitus seemed to concur, but he couldn't finish his thought before the door to the train car slid open.

Vitus looked over Leona's shoulder and she turned on her heel. Two of District Two's very own Victors stood there looking back at her. Leona instantly recognized them from what she'd learned at the Academy.

Vesta Hayashi, winner of the 117th Hunger Games, stood just before her. Even at the age of fifty, she was in remarkable shape. Her broad shoulders and impressive musculature were still every bit as recognizable as they had been in her Games. Her hair was different than it had been then, now shaved down into a buzzcut. The scar that she had earned from her finale was much more prominent in person. It started just beneath her left eye, running all the way down to the side of her neck. Leona could even see the small roman numeral eight that she had gotten tattooed on her arm after her Games, that was how close she was standing.

To the left of Vesta stood Arrow Branwen, winner of the far more recent 144th Hunger Games. He was less than half of Vesta's age, only twenty three years old. The differences between them didn't stop at age, either. Arrow's hair was styled into a quiff, with both sides of his head dyed equally obnoxious colors down the middle—Neon green and hot pink. Leona almost felt that his hair style rendered the large muscles on his body irrelevant. His hair commanded so much attention that one couldn't even focus on his visible strength if they tried. Not only that, but he also appeared to be sporting fang-like caps on his upper canine teeth. Arrow had certainly changed since his Games had been filmed.

"Arrow Branwen, good to meet ya," The man with the two-toned hair said as he took Leona's hand and shook it roughly, "I hope you two weren't having all the fun without us."

He released Leona's hand as he waltzed over to the table near the window and picked up a cupcake. He unwrapped it, haphazardly tossing the wrapper onto the table before pushing the entire sweet into his mouth and chewing it thoroughly. Leona couldn't believe that one of District Two's own would so readily display such ghastly behavior. Vesta cleared her throat, drawing Leona's attention away from the antics of the other Mentor.

"I'm Vesta Hayashi. Arrow and I will be looking after you two over the coming days. We'll teach you everything we know and prepare you for whatever lies ahead." Vesta explained.

Her stern expression and stoic nature was a far cry from the way that Arrow conducted himself. Leona found herself much more fond of Vesta's demeanor than her other Mentor's. While she wasn't ready to write off Arrow as a lost cause just yet, she was already quite certain that she would rely on Vesta for guidance more than she would on him. There was likely a wealth of knowledge that Arrow could share with her, though Leona had a hunch that it might not be as helpful as the things that Vesta could share. However, she was going to keep an open mind. Her Mentors were Mentors for a reason, of course.

"I know we will both appreciate the guidance. I look forward to learning from you both," Leona said.

Vesta gestured to the table nearby, "Why don't we start talking strategy?"

Leona saw no issue with that. She looked to Vitus, wondering if he would be open to such a thing, but it seemed that he had already begun chatting up Arrow. She sat at the fancy table in one of the fancy chairs and readily listened to all that Vesta had to share with her. As far as Leona was concerned, every single syllable that this woman uttered was just as valuable as every year of training she'd received at the Academy.

Leona was happy to listen.

EMMANUEL ASH, DISTRICT THREE

12:21 PM, DAY OF THE REAPING CEREMONY, THE TRAIN

It was surreal.

Being in the same position that his mother found himself in when she was only twelve years old was nothing short of completely surreal. Even at seventeen, Emmanuel felt like this was more than anyone was meant to handle. He wasn't going to let that show, though. Instead, he was going to apply all of the knowledge that his mother had supplied him with over the years. Emmanuel was going to dig deep into every one of his memories, repressed or not, in order to provide himself with the tools he needed to get through this.

His mother had done it when she was only a child. Emmanuel could do this now. It was in his DNA, after all.

As Emmanuel sat on the white loveseat near the window, he watched District Three roll by from behind the glass. He had never known how large the District truly was, but it was nothing to scoff at. The train was gliding along the tracks so quickly that Emmanuel figured his home District would be completely invisible within the next twenty minutes. He hummed quietly to himself as they sped toward the Capitol, his fingers absentmindedly fumbling with the leather band around his wrist.

The sound of the automatic door sliding open at the opposite end of the car drew Emmanuel's gaze away from the window. His eyes fell upon a tall, gangly man with dark hair and dark eyes. His caramel colored skin was the only thing preventing Emmanuel from mistaking him for a walking skeleton. The man looked like a deer in headlights as he stood just beyond the closed door. Emmanuel watched as the man glanced at him for a moment, then to his District Partner at the other side of the room. His hand found his forearm, where he scratched gently. Emmanuel's eyes trailed over the man's arm, which was decorated with a variety of track marks, each of which appearing to have differing degrees of recency.

The District Three boy couldn't help but look over to Clio, as if to gauge her reaction to the situation. She was acutely aware of the things occurring around her, Emmanuel had noticed. It was rather impressive that someone without hearing managed to conduct themself as well as Clio seemed to. Her eyes were fixed to the man who had just joined them in the train car. She momentarily glanced at Emmanuel out of the corner of her eye before promptly redirecting her gaze to the stranger. He walked over to a small cart that had various drinks on it. Grabbing a pitcher of water, he shakily poured himself a glass and then moved to sit in an armchair near the center of the car.

Emmanuel found the silence grating and he shifted his posture on the sofa as he finally said, "Hey! You're our Mentor, aren't you?"

The smile that he'd put on for the stranger seemed remarkably out of place when the potential Mentor turned to look at him. Now, in closer proximity to the man, he could see how sunken in and tired his eyes were. The bags beneath them were horribly discolored, almost as if they were bruises. His hairline was receding, likely out of stress, and Emmanuel couldn't even begin to guess how old he was.

"You're Genevieve's boy, aren't you?" Came his reply, his voice raspy and rather unpleasant.

Emmanuel nodded, "Yes, sir. Did you know her?"

Luz leaned back in his seat and, with an unsteady hand, brought the glass of water to his lips. He took an uncomfortably long drink of water, allowing Emmanuel's question to marinate as quiet settled over the room again. All that could be heard was the gentle clattering of the glasses situated on the refreshments cart. Again, Emmanuel looked to Clio, who had also moved to sit with her legs crossed so that she could face the man and her District Partner. Emmanuel wondered if she could tell what they were saying. He hadn't yet determined if she could read lips, but something about the slightly upturned corners of her mouth told Emmanuel that she knew exactly what was being said.

A particularly loud swallow came from Luz as he exhaled noisily, like a child taking a drink from a sippy cup, "Yeah… I knew her. Wonderful lady. Very smart. You look just like her."

Emmanuel smiled, "Thank you… She really—"

"She's probably rolling over in her grave after you stuck your neck out like that." Luz said, abruptly cutting off the warm and fuzzy feeling that Emmanuel was experiencing, "Your name wasn't even called… Your name wasn't even called and you just signed your life away."

That certainly wasn't the response that he was anticipating. Emmanuel was hardly surprised that a previous Victor was shocked by what he'd done. If he had been born in a Career District, people would have been cheering for him when he volunteered. District Three was different. It wasn't so black and white. Emmanuel knew there was a degree of truth to his words. He'd voluntarily entered the Games, technically…

He couldn't have let the Thatch family lose another son. Not after Nicolas. Emmanuel didn't owe this man or anyone else an explanation for why he did what he had done.

The air in the train car almost seemed to have grown thicker, more difficult to take in. Emmanuel, for one, had tensed up slightly where he sat. Clio didn't appear too worried about the words being exchanged before her, but she certainly knew what was going on. Her eyebrows were just barely raised as her gaze moved between the crass man and Emmanuel.

"I don't think I got your name," Emmanuel said, eager to change the subject.

"Luz, my name is Luz." He answered, placing his glass on the small table beside his chair and beginning to scratch at his forearm again.

"And you're our Mentor for the Games, right?" Emmanuel wanted to know for certain.

Luz stopped his scratching in favor of adjusting his posture, "That's me."

Emmanuel got to his feet and moved closer to Luz, extending a hand to shake, "It's great to meet you. I'm Emmanuel Ash."

Luz almost seemed perplexed at the boy's behavior, but he shook his hand, "Good to meet you, too…"

NYLE SEATON, DISTRICT FOUR

3:30 PM, DAY OF THE REAPING CEREMONY, THE TRAIN

Things were going pretty well on the District Four train.

For someone going into the Hunger Games, Nyle felt like he'd lucked out. He and Sutton had scored in the Mentor department. Not only had they secured two Mentors, they'd secured two mentors who knew what they were doing. From the moment that Alasdair, their Escort, had introduced them to their Mentors, it had been smooth sailing. In fact, Nyle really liked the little team that District Four was shaping up to have.

Once introductions were out of the way, Alasdair had wasted no time with making sure that everyone was comfortable. He had showed Nyle and Sutton where their rooms were, as well as what purposes the other cars served. Even though they were only going to be on the train for a day, Alasdair seemed to want them to be as familiar with their environment as possible. Nyle appreciated that a lot, as well as all of the good food that was available to them. Perhaps most of all, though, he appreciated the fact that when they all found themselves back in the same train car, they began talking like old friends.

At least, Nyle imagined that this was what old friends talked like. The atmosphere in the car was relaxed. There wasn't a single frown to be seen. Angel and Kappa, their Mentors, were easily able to strike up a balance between talks of strategy and getting to know their Tributes better. Nyle could easily tell that they both cared a great deal about himself and Sutton—As did Alasdair. Knowing that there were people beyond his own family who genuinely cared about his survival was comforting. Nyle appreciated the way that that smidge of reassurance was enough to keep his mind off of the negative for now.

"So, you're both eighteen… Do I have that right?" Angel asked as he rested his elbows on the table.

The chair that he was sitting in looked comically small in comparison to his hulking frame. Angel was a large man with somehow even larger arms. His tanned skin had been decorated in various tribal tattoos, similar to those that Nyle had seen before around District Four. Even though Angel looked like he could crush a person's head with his hands alone, he was one of the kindest people Nyle had ever met.

Sutton nodded and Nyle answered, "Yeah."

"Four's really been slacking in the Career department for a while, now… I wouldn't be surprised if we dropped out of the running entirely and handed the title of Career District off to Thirteen." Angel noted.

"Does Thirteen have plans to become a Career District?" Sutton asked.

Kappa, the other Mentor, shrugged his shoulders, "It's still up in the air. Thirteen has been a Capitol favorite for years now. Wouldn't exactly be a miracle if they started raising kids for the Games… Practically all of them are well fed and able-bodied."

"Are they sending in trained Tributes this year?" Nyle wanted to know, "Like… Was it obvious from the Reaping footage?"

Angel glanced over at Kappa, prompting the ganglier man to shake his head, "No. At least, not that I could tell. Looked like a pair of pretty average kids. Younger than you two, for sure. No Volunteers, either."

"Doesn't Thirteen only have one living Victor, anyway? The guy who won last year's Games?" Nyle inquired.

Angel nodded, "Kaige Heyburn."

"Speaking of the Reapings," Sutton piped up, "What did the other Districts look like? Anyone we need to keep an eye on?"

"We can sit down tonight after dinner and watch the footage if you'd like to," Angel offered.

Nyle grinned, "Oh, okay. A little date night for me and Sutton, yanno?"

Sutton looked at him with a deadpan expression, "I can hardly wait."

Despite the sarcasm dripping off of her words, he could see a smile threatening her lips. Nyle snickered quietly as he leaned back in his seat and stretched a bit. Kappa couldn't resist the urge to laugh as well, the silver stud on the center of his tongue shining beneath the glint of the light overhead. Angel quirked a brow at his partner before clearing his throat, redirecting his attention back to the Tributes.

"Before we get too wrapped up in discussing the game plan from here on out, I want to make sure that we're all on the same page." He started, "Do you think you'll be allying with each other?"

Nyle looked to Sutton, flashing her a charming, playful smile. Her eyes found his and for a moment, he could've sworn that he saw the gears turning in her head. His hopes were promptly dashed, however, when she turned back to Angel and provided her answer.

"I'm going to be allying with the Careers, so it depends on what Nyle's doing."

"You're allying with the Careers?" Nyle asked, trying to mask his disbelief.

Kappa cut in, "It isn't a bad idea. Not even a little bit. The Careers can be an incredibly useful asset to you in the Arena."

Sutton nodded in agreement, "That's what I was thinking."

"Will they even accept you? I mean, you defied the Academy of District Four in front of everybody. The Careers take their little code of honor really seriously. What if they don't let you join because you stepped on somebody else's toes, yanno?" Nyle raised the question, to which Sutton's brow creased in thought.

"Nyle has a point. Sutton, your idea isn't a bad one by any means. I think if you want to ally with the Careers, you should pursue that. There's no shame in it, but you should keep an open mind in case they aren't open to accepting you into the Pack. They do conduct themselves a certain way and they might not be pleased to take an outlier into their ranks." Angel said.

In truth, Nyle knew he couldn't blame Sutton for wanting to join the Careers. It was a sound strategy. Nyle wasn't interested in aligning himself with those sorts of people, though. If he could, he was going to form an alliance with people who showed promise in ways other than strength. If they were actually strong, well, that would just be a bonus.

"What happens when the Careers become your competition?" Nyle couldn't help but ask.

Sutton crossed her legs and gave a small shrug of her shoulders, though her answer came out with an undeniable air of certainty, "I guess we'll just have to wait and see."

ISAAC OPPENHEIMER, DISTRICT FIVE

6:41 PM, DAY OF THE REAPING CEREMONY, THE TRAIN

More than half of the food available on the train looked completely unappetizing. At the absolute worst, it even appeared inedible. Isaac wondered how he was supposed to make it all the way to the Arena without starving if all they served him was freakish looking Capitolite dishes. His District Partner was strangely unbothered by just about everything. She had hardly stopped talking ever since they'd boarded the train, asking no shortage of questions to their Escort and Mentor while she enjoyed her brightly colored dinner.

Much like his distaste for the food, Isaac didn't really care for any of them, in truth. Laurent was a snooty man to an almost insufferable degree. He'd nearly lost his mind earlier in the day when he heard Chip, their Mentor, let an expletive slip into conversation. Isaac found that annoying.

Chip felt like some sort of cruel joke. The old man didn't even look fit to be in the position that he was in. He had this wild look in his eyes that never went away, regardless of the topic of conversation. He had three missing teeth and a long, white beard that he was constantly braiding and combing his fingers through. There were times when he was talking where he would completely slip into a tangent about some sort of Capitol-involved conspiracy theory he had concocted. His rambling would quickly become incoherent and then, almost like magic, he'd find his way back to the original topic at hand.

Nami was fine, Isaac supposed. She wasn't anywhere near as obnoxious as the other two. Isaac found her bubbly personality just the slightest bit grating. He figured that her carefree front was nothing more than a defense mechanism. It wasn't something he could fault her for. If he hadn't willingly gone into the Games, maybe he'd have felt similar… Though, he doubted that.

Despite his opinions on the people surrounding him, Isaac had been treating them with respect. He planned on being as respectful as possible for the entirety of this ordeal. It was important that he try to milk whatever knowledge he could out of his Mentor. He needed to be cordial with Laurent to avoid any sort of issues that could arise from getting on his bad side.

As for Nami, he had a separate approach. Isaac was going to treat her with respect, of course. But the dissimilarity between Nami and the others was that Nami was, technically, his competition. Once they set foot in the Arena, he would be competing against her for the title of Victor. The reality of the situation was that Nami was no different than the other twenty four competitors he would be facing off against. Sure, she was his District Partner, but she was also his opponent.

That was why he needed to play the Game carefully. He had already decided that he was going to align himself with the Career Pack. If he wanted to put District Five in the mix of Careers, then he needed to fully commit, even if that meant leaving his District Partner to her own devices. Besides, allying with the Career Pack over his District Partner was a far less egregious offense than killing her by his own hand. That was also something he had chosen to never let happen. As long as it was humanly possible not to kill Nami, then he would refrain from doing so.

The Districts always took a great deal of issue with that sort of thing. Isaac had seen many Tributes lose a significant portion of support for killing off their District Partner. That wasn't going to happen to him if he could help it. For all he cared, Nami could run off and die on her own during any point in the Games. As long as it didn't stand in the way of his plans, it didn't matter.

Isaac supposed that for now, he could continue to pretend that he was making nice with everyone around him. At the very least, he hoped that his Stylist would be a lot more tolerable. If he was really lucky, maybe they would turn out to be a person of few words.

The District Five boy was taken out of his thoughts when he heard Nami gasp, "Oh my goodness! That's so horrible! Then what did you do? How did you survive?"

"First, I had to sew my own stomach shut to keep my insides from spilling out all over my lap," Chip said with a mouthful of food.

Isaac held back a laugh at the sight of Laurent slowly pushing his dish away, losing his appetite at the topic of conversation. For a Capitolite working in the business of child murder, he sure seemed to have a low tolerance for graphic detail, Isaac thought. Chip didn't seem to pick up on the Escort's obvious discomfort.

"After that, I waited for the wound to heal. I received a sponsor and I was able to use the medication I was given to keep the wound clean. It healed a bit faster than normal, too. A few days after that, I set up traps all over the parts of the Arena that I had mapped out. Then, I lured them all… I lured them all into the traps." There was a very strange look on Chip's face as he recounted the events of his Games, something halfway between shock and joy.

"Wow," Nami breathed, blinking hard, "That's incredible that you were able to win! Especially since you were hurt and you thought you weren't going to make it! I'm sorry you had to experience all of that… But it makes for a great underdog story! Right?"

Chip nodded, "Y-Yes, underdog story… The underdog story… The Capitol loves the underdog story… Loves the underdog story until the underdog story twists and turns the underdog into someone else… But they never stop watching. They never stop watching."

Isaac bit his tongue as he watched Chip's words devolve into even more disjointed, nonsensical thoughts. This really was some kind of sick joke being played on them by the Capitol, wasn't it? Isaac shifted his attention over to Nami, who seemed remarkably unshaken by the strange behavior of their Mentor.

"It's okay," Nami reassured him, "Now they're watching us, too! We're all in this thing together. Right, Isaac?"

The dark-haired boy gave a confident nod and a smile, "Yep!"

Right… Together.