Carameuse Heloise, 48
Capitol Citizen

"Let's start at the beginning. One of you took advantage of the darkness to kill the first man, then slipped something into the drink of our second victim - Mr. Giles, am I correct?" She pauses to let the group nod, then continues. "Now, does anyone have a voucher for not killing Mr. Giles? I do know that Cassia was with a group of friends when the snow hit us, and that Gregoire supposedly was at the bar - a few patrons can testify to that fact, although the bartender says she wasn't there herself to witness him, but Valerie and Flavian only have each other, while Gianna has no one. But that does not account for our second victim - any of you could have done it."

"I said, I was in my room," Gianna mutters through gritted teeth. Her wildflower look has suddenly been transformed into something more dangerous, more venomous, as her face flushes red and her dress seems to grow paler in comparison. "Do I need to elaborate? I asked for an avox to deliver me a meal along the way, but he never arrived - I do wonder where he went. But I did talk to him, and he went to get the meal - perhaps there are logs? I don't know, but I didn't kill. I didn't kill the man."

"Aren't we supposed to answer about Giles?" Valerie interjects. "I was in the hallway when the snow fell on the train, to go look for our friends, but we never got the chance to. I'm sure I was seen there by someone. But yes, Flavian and I were both talking to you in the time that the bartender would have poured the drink and handed it to Mr. Giles. It couldn't have been us."

"Giles was a pitiful excuse for a human being, but he wasn't worth my time," sniffs Gregoire. "I wouldn't have killed him. If I was going to kill someone, I'd rather do it the gentlemanly way - with a knife, or even with my bare hands. Wouldn't it be so much more well-earned?"

"I suppose," Carameuse replies with a wry smile. The snow is piling up on the windows once more, shrouding the room in darkness. Only the flickering lights above their head serve as their light, the artificial glow lighting up her face in an unpleasant manner. She'd prefer something less impersonal… like candles. She likes candles. "Now, that leaves Cassia. What's your excuse, my dear?"

"Drink?" whispers the bartender, passing a small champagne glass to Carameuse. "I know that you're examining them, but everyone needs a drink - right?"

Carameuse is polite enough to take it, letting the contents slosh back and forth as she tilts the glass. She gazes through the golden liquid, towards the suspects. No, it wouldn't have been Gregoire - even if he's against Ember, he's too brute-ish to kill with poison. And Valerie and Flavian? They struck her as the type who would entertain murder, but have too many insecurities to do something about it. Of course, lesser men and women had murdered with their motives, but she thinks it's safe to rule them out. But who would have poisoned the glass? Who would have slipped something into… unless…

"Actually, can I ask for your opinion?" she asks the bartender, the woman pausing and looking back at Carameuse. "What do you think of the murdered… the murdered..."

"The murdered avox?" the bartender replies, not missing a beat. "Oh, it's upsetting, but life goes on. After all, he was likely a criminal. And for Mr. Giles? I'm surely sorry, he seemed like a nice man. He did like his wine."

"But, but, but," Carameuse whispers, her eyes hardening into a harsh stare and her body rising from her seat, "no one ever said the man was an avox. Only I knew that, and one other person on the train. Only one other would have known that the man was an avox and would have slashed up his mouth to hide that fact, and that person was you."

And as the bartender stumbles backwards, a scream forming on her cherry-red lips, Carameuse throws her drink at the woman.

Tourmaline de Metz, 18
District One Female

Deep breaths, Tourmaline.

She takes one, another, then exhales as slowly as she can. She's fighting away all the little bouts of nervousness that keep popping up when she isn't paying attention - the thought of the interviews tonight, the fact that almost half of the tributes are trying to take out her career pack, the fact that she's about to play the biggest game of her life in less than twenty-four hours, all are doing strange things to her stomach.

But she wouldn't be a One if she couldn't handle the pressure.

She'll make it through this.

"Tourmaline, you're stunning!" She looks up from the mirror that she's staring into while fiddling with one of her earrings, startled. It's Duchess. He - no, she now that she's in drag - is as dressed up as Tourmaline is, looking beautiful in a skin tight dress that hugs every curve, the teal fabric stretching to cover her body. She's got a lace choker on, and she smirks when she sees Tourmaline's eyes widen. "Oh, honey, you've seen nothing yet."

Tourmaline gives her a small grin, fiddling with her own dress. The stylists have decided this year that silver is Tourmaline's colour - she's dressed in shiny silver fabric that doesn't leave much to the imagination, barely bothering to cover even part of her legs. It's uncomfortable, but they've assured her that it'll get her sponsors.

She'll do a lot to get sponsors.

She'll do even more to win.

"Oh, your chignon is coming a bit loose - would you like me to help you with it?" Duchess asks, her face concerned. Tourmaline nods, leaning back as Duchess plays with her hair. "You've got lovely hair - you're going to impress them all. It's a pity we have that alliance in the way, you know - we'll have to do something to… neutralize them when we get into the arena."

"We will," Tourmaline murmurs back. Duchess is silent for a moment as she twists Tourmaline's hair back and forth into a suitable chignon, admiring it in the mirror.

"Be careful, Tourmaline. They want blood," Duchess says, and then she's gone.

Tourmaline can't help but shiver.

Deep breaths, Tourmaline.

Soon, the stylists flutter around her and make a few more adjustments before hurrying her through the halls. She's forced to run in her platform shoes, but she keeps steady and moves quickly to the stage. She hasn't taken five years of classes with One's finest teachers on the study of high heels, shoes, and how to walk properly for nothing - and now, she finally sees why she's done it.

"Hurry, hurry, hurry!" one whispers to her, pushing to the front of the line that's already formed. "You're on in three, two, one… go! Go, go go!"

Tourmaline nods. One step, two steps, ten steps later, she struts onto the stage and flashes her best smile to the audience. They scream, and she blows a kiss to them all. They go wild.

"Tourmaline de Metz! It's so good to have you here, darling - welcome to the party! Aren't you excited for this lovely girl?" Jasmine Antebellum winks at the crowd, and they scream in delight for the two of them. Tourmaline's blood is rushing through her veins, faster and faster as she sits down and gives one more smile to them all. It's so, well, exciting to be up here. She can see why Jasmine's stayed on as the interviewer for three years now.

"I'm quite excited to be here! It's simply stunning to meet you all - I hope that you'll see more of me as well tomorrow!" Tourmaline purrs, letting a small smile play on her lips. It feels stupid to dumb herself down to just an object for the Capitol, but it seems to be working - they're screaming her name and tossing flowers at the stage, most of which fail to reach her. "Perhaps… perhaps you'll see more of me in more way than one."

"Oh, Tourmaline!" Jasmine breathes, and they continue chatting about her score and plan for the Games. Tourmaline's responses are easy - it's been drilled into her to sit still, look pretty, and smile for the crowd. She knows what she has to do. And soon, she'll get to show herself for what she really is.

Deep breaths, Tourmaline.

Shelby Doran, 17
District Four Female

"Welcome, Shelby! It's good to have you with us - how are you feeling tonight, my dear?" The interviewer begins to get the crowd cheering for Shelby, smiling all the while. "You look lovely in that dress!"

"Um, thank you?" Shelby can't help but feel confused by this entire spectacle - they're making a big deal out of nothing now, dressing the teens up in fancy clothes and parading them onto this stage while cheering at nonsensical things. Mags had told her to just play along with it all, but she doesn't know what she's supposed to play along with.

Oh well, the least she can do is smile.

"Oh, don't be such a shy gal! You must have a lovely time in Four - you look like you've come straight from the beaches and to our fair city in that teal! And those heels are to die for - who was your stylist?" Jasmine gasps, giving every word a curious trill that makes her voice sound like a melody that Shelby doesn't know.

"In a way, I suppose I did come from the beaches," Shelby grins. When she sees the confusion on Jasmine's face, she realizes what she's done wrong - Mags has warned her too many times to not mention Aloma to mess up at this point. She's a fool for slipping up in the first place. "But yes, my stylist was lovely! I think her name was Elena, or something pretty like that."

"It is a pretty name, almost as pretty as you!" A few wolf whistles come from the crowd when Jasmine winks, and Shelby blushes. She doesn't like that feeling of embarrassment, of feeling like she should apologize for something she didn't do. It's not right. "Now, Shelby - we all have one question that we've just been dying to ask you. Why aren't you working with the career pack this year, especially when we've heard rumours of an alliance forming against them? Is it out of fear? Necessity? Do you have something planned for us all tomorrow?"

"Oh..." Shelby frowns, trying to decide how best to answer the question. "I guess… I guess you'll have to find out tomorrow."

Jasmine shrieks with laughter, and the audience follows suit with a round of raucous applause. And then Jasmine ushers Shelby off of the stage and away from the Capitolites so that she can greet Fraser, and Shelby's left alone sitting in her seat with her high heels digging into the flesh of her feet.

She wants to go home.

An old poem from times in Aloma long past pops into memory, and Shelby whispers it to herself as Fraser shouts to the crowd about his undying love for their mentor - she's not surprised by his confession. "Away in a meadow,

There's a burbling creek,

It whispers a sad song,

So tender, so meek.

And then the water comes.

The meadow is nervous

With senses of dread

The creek becomes swollen,

Waiting to be fed.

And then the storm comes.

Turgid, boiling, bubbling,

The creek rushes along

It spills over the banks

Knowing that it's wrong.

And then the flood comes.

It's greedy, it's hungry

With tongues oh-so-blue

It gobbles up flowers

And makes a dream true

For what was once a meadow

There's now nothing left

Just large rings of water

Of storms, floods, and death."

It's nice to know that she still remembers that.

Fraser soon comes off the stage with a smile on his face, waving to Shelby. "How did I do?"

Shelby hides a laugh, thinking of what Mags must think of him by now. "You did well!" she tells him kindly, not wanting to make an enemy of the boy from Four. She's already worried enough by the battle tomorrow.

Fraser smiles, leaning over the tributes from Three to talk to some of the careers from Two. Shelby waits in her own seat for the interviews to finish with, yawning as she watches the stage be taken over by personality after personality. To her credit, Jasmine's able to accentuate all of them and showcase their good points to Panem. That's the reason why she must interview them all, even if Shelby doesn't understand why exactly there are interviews in the first place.

She doesn't understand a lot. But what she does know is that tomorrow, she won't be running into what Mags has described as a bloodbath.

She'll be running for her life.

Magnolia Rosa-Tran, 18
District Seven Female

Lee smiles to herself, rubbing the baby bump that's under the white fabric that makes up her dress.

She can't help but notice that it rather looks like a wedding dress.

Tim's fidgeting behind her with a nervous expression on his face, stepping from one foot to the other as he waits for his turn to head onto the stage. "I don't know what I'm supposed to do, now, Lee - what should I do? How should I talk to them?"

"Remember what Joe told you," Lee whispers back over her shoulder, ignoring the coughs coming from the girl from Eight. "Doesn't he want you to be funny? Tell some puns - you're very good at that. You will do fine, Tim - I'm sure you'll find a way to succeed."

"I'm ver-tree good at telling puns, you mean," Tim giggles. He goes silent for a few minutes, obviously thinking up of some more to tell to the audience, and Lee resists the urge to laugh. He's a funny one, with his naive concern and love for life. She wishes for a second that she was fourteen herself, when she was on top of the world and thought she knew everything. No, she's in the real world now, with all of its concerns and stresses and baby bumps.

Is the Capitol the real world?

She doesn't know.

"Magnolia Rosa-Tran - you're up. Go, go, go!" whispers someone who must be an intern for the Capitolite interviewers, and Lee hurries to the stage. She slows her walk as she turns onto the stage and smiles to the audience, cradling her baby bump. Someone in the audience screams in concern, and suddenly the entire Capitol is yelling for her to not go into the Hunger Games. Someone throws a rose onto the stage, another throws a poster, and peacekeepers head into the audience with drawn tasers and their dark visors secured comfortably over their heads.

And for the first time, as the screams die away and Lee turns to face her obviously uncomfortable interviewer, she realizes what an asset her unborn child could be.

"Well… well… welcome, Magnolia! How are you doing this fine evening! You look gorgeous in that dress - oh, is that a magnolia flower in your hair? It's stunning, Magnolia!" Jasmine continues to speak, trying to get the Capitolites away from thinking of Lee's pregnancy. Lee hides a smile - it's funny to see the woman so thrown off.

"Yes, it is a magnolia! My stylists have outfitted me well - they've even made it comfortable! It's quite rare to find clothes that are comfortable and stylish in a pregnancy, don't you think?" she asks coyly, batting her eyelashes as if she's an innocent babe.

She's made her first jab.

"Oh - yes, well, I'm glad that you're comfortable!" Jasmine fumbles to continue the conversation on something less controversial, deciding to ask Lee about something else. "You received quite the high score in the private sessions - are you able to talk about it to us?"

Lee looks up at the gamemakers, knowing before seeing that they won't want her to. "I simply performed as best as I could, even with my pregnancy. I'm pleased with how I've done."

Another cut.

She doesn't mention how she had performed with her axe for the gamemakers, able to use the weapon easily despite her limited maneuverability. She had ended the session with three throws at targets, each hitting the centre of the target and burying itself into the wall. She then had asked if there was a way that she could have her child exempt from the Games, that they didn't deserve to die in a conflict such as this.

The gamemakers had told her no, but Lee thought that she might have heard a tone of regret in their voices.

"Oh my, how intriguing! Let's give a round of applause to Magnolia Rosa-Tran, everyone!" Jasmine shouts, raising Lee up from her seat to the cheering audience. A few are still screaming, but most of them have been threatened into silence.

Lee doesn't mention that her interview has been cut short, and instead decides to go with the safe option.

She gives the audience her most dazzling smile, rubbing her stomach all the while.

New chapter! More fun!

We're six days away from the bloodbath :o one more tribute chapter, and we'll get there! In the meantime, enjoy these three. I've been writing steadily through the arena AND have made some progress, so that's always a relief. Hopefully, by the time I get to the bloodbath I'll be close to finishing!

Enjoy. Until next time, TheAmazingJAJ