Carameuse Heloise, 48
Capitol Citizen

"Cassia Valentine?" she asks, not waiting for the woman with green hair and golden, coy eyes to answer before she continues. "Do you know why you're here?"

"Because you think I murdered that poor man," Cassia murmurs. There's a controlled tremour in her voice, as if she's forcing Carameuse to sympathize with her, to let her go.

Carameuse doesn't like that.

"Why did you tell your colleagues that you wished President Ember was dead?" Carameuse questions suddenly, knowing that it'll catch Cassia off guard. And it does - the woman looks like a volt of electricity's been forced into her veins, her face paling rapidly and her eyes widening in fear. "Nothing goes unnoticed in the Capitol, Cassia. Nothing."

"I - I - I did no such thing," Cassia lies. She must hope to trick Carameuse, but Carameuse can see how the back of her neck begins to turn red, how her eyes shift away from Carameuse's, how she shifts in her chair as if she's searching for a better position to lie in. "How would you know if I did?"

"Here's how I know," Carameuse replies. She opens up the briefcase that she's brought into the room with her, taking out a written statement that she shows the young woman. "Your colleagues didn't appreciate that statement, Cassia. Politics is a funny business - if you choose to fight the wrong battles, you'll fall pretty quickly. You thought that you had a chance to express some frustrations, some grievances to your friends, right? You thought that it would be safe with them. I'm sorry that it wasn't."

Cassia's face crumples before she dissolves into tears, burying her head in her arms. "I didn't mean to say that - it was a bad day, and it's so frustrating to see how she handles the districts. They shouldn't be pushed down so harshly. They're dying in front of us, and we do nothing. Nothing! And President Ember ignores it in favour of us all. I - I do wish she was dead. There, I said it. But I didn't do anything to her, I would never. Why would that be a part of this case? Is it because she's boarding the train soon?"

Carameuse nods tersely, writing something down on the paper. Cassia's not the one she's searching for - no, unless she's a stellar actress she wouldn't be able to fake the naivete needed to convince

She's safe. For now.

So she moves on.

"Why would you think that someone like myself would be a murderer, of all things?" the dog-elf man prattles on, scowling deeper and deeper as he continues. If it wasn't such a serious moment, Carameuse would giggle - he's still quite the sight. "I've done nothing wrong, I've had a stellar record my entire life, I've never robbed anyone or anything, I've never said anything against the Capitol!"

"It's what you haven't done that worries the president, Mr. Gregoire," Carameuse replies. "Your failure to properly follow instructions from the president during the 21st Games was what first made you suspicious, and the fact that you were in District One on Panem Day did not help manners. I'm sure you are a reasonable man, Mr. Gregoire. Tell me, do you know anything about the sheet of paper found next to every victim in the murders?"

"I knew no such thing! I don't know what you're insinuating, but I did not kill those people. I am not a murderer, Ms. Hel… Heloi..." Mr. Gregoire pauses, struggling to pronounce Carameuse's name properly.

"Excuse me, but wasn't it just a ripped-off piece of paper? Like little notes… I don't know how to describe it." Carameuse looks back to see the bartender, who's leaning over the counter with a cloth in her hand. "Excuse me for interrupting, but I think that a newspaper said that."

"Yes, yes, thank you," Carameuse replies. "You're absolutely right."

She is.

Timber Sycamore, 14
District Seven Male

"Would you like to join our alliance?" he asks the girl from Four, pointing back to the crowd of tributes that are tentatively becoming what should be the strongest alliance in the Games this year. Well, he hopes that they will. "We're all nice - and if you don't like the careers, we'll protect you. I'll protect you! I'll walnut stop until they leave alone, I promise."

The girl raises an eyebrow, likely amused by Tim's show of bravado. "I think I'd rather be on my own for now - but thank you for the offer! You can tell your friends that I won't do a thing against them."

"Thank you! Have a great day, but now it's time for me to leaf. Bye!" Tim waves to the girl from Four - she's nice, he thinks - and runs back to the alliance. He's a bit peeved that he hasn't gotten anyone to join them yet, but he'll surely find someone soon. Maybe the girl from Twelve will listen to him - she seems nice. Or maybe the girl from Eleven, whose sweet smile intrigues him. Yeah, he'll find someone to recruit eventually.

Right?

Oh well. He doesn't wait to see if the girl will follow him, instead sitting down amongst the tributes at their table. They haven't collected anyone else yet, but they're hoping to - Jackson is talking to the boy from Eleven at another table. The careers have been watching them, but Tim doesn't think that it will matter much. All they need is another tribute or two, and they'll have more on their side than the careers do.

And if that happens, the careers won't stand a chance.

"So, what's our plan when we get to the bloodbath?" Emma asks Sasha, tapping her fork against the table impatiently. "We can't just sit down and pretend like this isn't happening - we need action, we need decisions, we need to show the others who's in control. If you're not going to perform like you can, you shouldn't be here."

"Aren't you the saucy one?" Sasha snorts, shoveling pasta into his mouth with a large fork. Tim wrinkles his nose at the egregious display of manners, but doesn't comment on it. Perhaps Sasha hasn't had a chance to properly learn manners, especially if he was homeless or whatnot. "I'll do what you need me to. But I'm not playing along until we get there - there's no point."

"So you're going to endanger the alliance because you're rebel-sympathetic?" Emma narrows her eyes, annoyed with the boy. Tim feels nervous, all of a sudden, but he doesn't want to say anything. Nothing he could say would help at this point. "You'll have a big, rebel-shaped target on all of our backs if you don't shape up soon. None of us want that. None of us."

"Like this alliance isn't filled with sympathizers!" Sasha gestures to Tristan, who reddens while eating a slice of pizza. At least he has the decency to not argue about it. "He's one - it's easy enough to tell - and I'm sure there are more. Oh, Panem, Jackson's got another one for our crew. Great."

"We've got Luke!" Jackson crows, unaware of the sharp glances traded between Emma and Sasha. "Luke, meet the group - Tim, Sasha, Tristan, and Emma. And you said that Aloie might come?"

"I'm protecting Aloie through this. You're accepting her, or I'm not here," replies Luke gruffly. It's silent at the table for an awkward moment, but Jackson attempts to bring the atmosphere back to normal by dropping a glass of water on the table. Emma shrieks with laughter as it splashes over Tristan, and the rest of them hand over napkins to clean the mess up.

It's good that they have Jackson, Tim thinks as he walks to get more napkins. If they didn't, the alliance would fall apart before it had a chance to form properly. They need him as a leader.

And, Tim thinks with a pang of guilt, they need him as a target. None of them would have joined if there wasn't a leader to act as their shield, someone to protect them from the wrath of the careers. If the careers start making plans, Jackson will be at the top of their list.

Better Jackson than him to die, after all.

Fraser Killick, 18
District Four Male

"So, what's the plan?" Duchess asks once they're all seated at the table, watching them through his guarded expression. He's got narrow, calculating eyes - he's the type who'll see more of a person than they'd like. Fraser just hopes that Duchess doesn't see too much of himself. "We've got to figure out targets, ideas, all of that junk - it's day two and we're closing in on the private sessions. It's time to choose what we do."

"We're going after that little alliance that's filling up with bloodbaths for sure," replies Aeson. He sits confidently with a plate of meat and a large salad, picking the bones clean before quickly eating the lettuce doused with dressing. "The boy from Six, boy from Eight, boy from Five, all of them need to go. And the boy from Eleven - he's got to go, too. I don't want him to be here for long, not with that look in his eyes."

"Girl from Five?" Enyo asks, tapping her fingers on her plate as she waits for an answer. Fraser's a bit confused by the fact that she can't seem to make full sentences, but maybe there's something deeper. It's not like he should judge her for it - she's one of the strongest fighters here nonetheless.

"Is the girl from Five a good target in the bloodbath? She volunteered for a friend, you know - she's old, but she might not be the type that can rival us. I'd like to get rid of the threat we know before the threat that we don't. Let's keep our priorities straight," Aeson continues. "If we chase after unknowns, we're not going to get anywhere."

"Fair enough. Five, Six, Seven, and Eight are our first targets." Tourmaline finishes that portion of the discussion, giving a small, confident smile. She's pretty, poised - but she's not Fraser's type. She's a bit too cold for that, he thinks - leaders never are the attractive ones.

Aeson gives a small nod, and Fraser nods as well. Duchess doesn't nod, but he gives a small smirk - likely the closest he'll come to giving assent. Fraser likes the boy less and less every moment.

But he wouldn't say that to his face.

"Also - what will we do about our… liability?" Tourmaline throws a pointed look towards Shelby, who's eating alone in the corner. "Are we replacing her? If so, the girl from Ten seems smart enough. I wouldn't mind having her on our side."

"Boy from Ten as well?" Enyo looks over at Callous Lecket, who's also eating alone. "Smart, strong - good ally."

"Maybe we should be more careful when choosing allies," Aeson cautions. "I don't want to get ourselves caught - oh, wait, I have to go to the bathroom. Sorry - I'll be back soon."

Duchess raises an eyebrow as the tall boy darts away, disappearing around a corner to the men's washroom. "What's with his bladder?"

"Eh, probably drank too much or something stupid," Fraser laughs. The rest of the table chuckles along with him, and they sit in silence for a bit. Fraser finishes the last of his burger and gives a big grin to the careers, only realizing at the last minute that there's still hamburger meat stuck in his teeth. But who cares? It's not like they're going to kill him for it. He's part of their alliance, even if he disgusts them with bad manners or whatever people get mad about. If Mags was here, he'd be quieter - he'd try to impress her with everything he'd do. He'd do anything for Mags. But this is his alliance - he doesn't need to be perfect. He just needs to be here.

And right now, they need all the numbers that they can get.

Aeson comes back in a few minutes, laughing to himself about something that he doesn't bother to share with the rest of the table. It's soon time to leave their meals and head back into the training centre, so Tourmaline leads them to the agility course. She's every inch the leader that they need this year, and Fraser's glad to see that she's taking such control - she'll lead them well.

And if she doesn't…

Well, if she doesn't, she'll have the biggest target on her back of all.

Colleen Tosse, 17
District Five Female

Colleen hopes that the careers don't view her as a threat.

She's been trying to keep what she can do a secret - she's been clumsy, she's pretended that she doesn't know how to cook or how to use the herbs that are provided in the edible plants section - although it's hard to fake that she has no idea what they are, she's managed to fool the instructor into thinking that she doesn't know what nightlock berries are. Now, that took skill.

For the most part, it seems to be paying off - the few careers who watch her have given her neutral, condescending glances before going back to whatever they're working on, and none of them have watched her too closely. She might be able to slip under the radar after all - she just has to get through the next few days.

Well, that and figuring out how she can get her hands on explosives in the arena.

Decisions, decisions, decisions! She hasn't managed to figure out how she'll fight the rest of the tributes in there, she thinks as she starts working on a fisherman's knot, but she knows that she'll have to be careful. Nothing close range will work well for her. A knife would be useful, but it's too small to do any proper harm, a sword too difficult to master, an axe too clumsy, a spear too unreliable. She wants something she can surprise the others with, something unorthodox.

Explosives would fit the bill perfectly.

But there are none to harvest. So instead, she'll practice her knots - a few practical trapping skills could net her prey in the arena, both animal and human. She wants to get back home. She wants to see her grandma again. She wants Five back.

She'll do what she needs to.

When one of the tributes approaches her towards the end of the day, Colleen's mildly surprised until she sees that it's Sasha. Shrugging, she makes room for him at the knot-tying station as she makes her way through yet another knot. "How goes the training? Have you decided if you'll play along, or is that still not an option?"

Sasha reddens, fumbling with the rope that she hands him. "I'm not here to spar, Colleen. I'm supposed to ask you to join the alliance - I don't want you in it, but I guess you won't kill us and they all want you. So here I am - they thought I'd do best to recruit you."

"I think I'll go it alone," Colleen murmurs. Sasha nods, his fingers suddenly weaving a capable knot that holds firm when he tugs at it. He understands what she means.

"Good luck," he tells her, and then sidles back to his alliance. When he's out of earshot, Colleen asks the instructor if there's a way to make a snare that can trap unwary feet in the arena, pulling them up into trees as the rope tightens around their leg, and keeping them within range for her. The instructor, delighted to see that someone's asking her for one of the more difficult skills, is quick to show Colleen how to create the snare. Colleen's even quicker to learn it, - it's good that she can learn quickly, she thinks with a wry smile - tying up something that could catch even a career off guard in the arena.

"Do you think there'll be trees?" she asks the instructor, playing with several different types of knots. They've gotten to know each other throughout the day, given that Colleen's spent most of her time at this station, and the instructor is comfortable enough to answer questions that Colleen has about the Capitol. "I don't know what I'd do without them - trees are useful things, aren't they?"

The instructor gestures vaguely towards the gamemaker's room, high above their heads. "Only they know, I suppose - but if there aren't trees, use anything - rocks, windows, doors, anything that you can use should be used. There's always something, and you're smart. You'll find something."

"Thanks." Colleen goes back to making herself a second snare until the instructor tells her kindly that it's time to go. She thanks the woman and walks out of the room, taking care to stay behind the careers.

So far, she's succeeded in keeping away from them.

Now, she just has to stay out of sight for a few days more.

FYI because I forgot last time, Duchess is she/her in drag and he/him out of drag. Apologies for not clarifying.

Enjoy! Until next time, TheAmazingJAJ.