I am still missing check-ins for the following tributes:

Toren Kollath
Bellona Peirce
Gear Griswald
Astrid Balan
Haruhi Maki
Adella Kerrick
Corbyn Reid
Amelia Williams
Charles Thomson
Zilla Odbody
Darra Delaney
Twill Chintz
Lily Baudilair
Red Bellmont
Clair Ivory

Please see the author's note at the end of Chapter 15 for the check-in question. You can submit it to me either through PM or on Discord.

Trigger warning: mild dysphoria in Argen's POV.

Argen DeAquilla, 18
District 10 "Female"

The Capitol was not what he had been expecting. From the outside, it looked like a rainbow blur. It was very colourful, much more than District 10. Red seemed absolutely excited. For Argen, it was a little overwhelming. The city was, in a way, looming right over him.

"That's so cool!" Red gushed, face mushed up against the window.
Arley scoffed, sipping a mug of black coffee. "Yeah, sure. Don't get your panties in a twist, kid."

Argen felt a bit like the odd man out. Red was pretty energetic for a kid, and maybe Argen might've considered allying with him, because he wasn't sure he had anyone else who'd be interested. And wasn't that kinda weird? He was practically a grown man, and he wanted to be allies with a 15 year-old boy.

And then Arley, their mentor, was another issue. Half the time, Argen had no clue how to respond to her. Should he try to sass her back? Shrug her off? Take offense? Ughhhhhh. He was still a nervous wreck from yesterday, and this was not helping. There were just so many tributes that looked so much stronger than him!

"What are we doing here, anyways?" Red asked, peeling his face off the window.
"You're gonna get dressed up for a fancy parade where you get shown off to everyone like trinkets." Arley knocked back the last of her coffee. "Fun, fun, fun. Hope you like sparkles, kids."

Argen gulped. "Do I have to?"
"You don't really get a choice. It's not even that long anyways; it's like half an hour."
"Okay...but I don't...I just don't think I'd be very comfortable in a dress..."

Arley's face softened. Even Red gave him a sad glance. God, Argen wished Brendon was here to help him sort this whole mess out. But Brendon wasn't here, was he?

"Do you want me to talk with your stylist?" Arley asked with an usual calmness to her voice. "We can try and work something out for you. Time is short, but I can try to squeeze in and-"
Uh...no, no, no...it's fine...I can do it..."

Inside the Remake Centre, Argen huddled nervously in place, wearing a little blue robe. There were three men as his prep team, and they seemed nice enough, if a little intimidating. Argen had never seen someone with such pink hair, or face tattoos, or heck, silver stag antlers coming out of their head.

And he had never had such a bath before.

Argen nervously clutched the robe together right over his chest (thank goodness his prep team didn't comment), then crossed his legs. He was excepted to wait for his head stylist, whoever they may be. Now, he had time to mull over the Parade. It sound cool, and also terrifying.

He wished he was back home with Brendon.

Eventually, there were footsteps. "Hello! Argen, right?"
"Yeah...that's me?"

He was met with a man probably somewhere in his late forties, with jet black hair streaked with gold, and bright blue eyeliner. "Hey Argen. I'm your stylist, Philo. How are you feeling?"
"Um...I don't know..."
"Hmmmm...well, alright? Ready to see your outfit?"

Argen felt uneasy. "I'm not sure."
Philo laughed. "Are you worried it's gonna suck?"
"No, it's not that..."

"Don't worry, you're in good hands. I've been in the industry for almost twenty years now. Trust me, I'm one of the most qualified stylists here!"
Argen just nodded. he wasn't ready to tell Philo why he felt so nervous.

But after a quick change into his outfit, Argen had a feeling that things wouldn't be so bad after all. He was wearing a sleek white suit with silver accents. Philo helped him to adjust his black tie, then place a matching tophat on his head. It was cool, fashionable, and comfortable. he studied his reflection in the mirror, and he felt satisfied with it. Maybe Philo did understand him after all.

"See!" Philo patted him on the back. "What did I tell ya?"
"I thought you'd give me a dress or something..."
"Oh, so you admit to doubting me! I always pay attention to my tributes's needs, and you are no exception!"

Argen couldn't help but smile as his cheeks warmed up. he pushed up his hat a bit so he could see better, feeling the fabric of the suit rub up against his wrists. He shifted himself in his pants a bit, which felt rather tight. But in a good way.

As dreadful as this whole Hunger Games experience was, he did have people who cared about him and his identity.

He hoped Brendon could really see him now.

Virgo Blackman, 20
Daughter of the Head Gamemaker and University Student

Normally, she wouldn't be allowed up here.

But a simple slip of her last name and the security guard's demeanour instantly dropped. Virgo tucked her sketchbook under her arm as she passed through the hallway crowded with some of the more important people in the Hunger Games business. Gamemakers and their families, news reporters, stylists, the business sector, and others too.

It would be really awesome to talk to the stylists and show them her latest designs and concepts.

She eventually came across a teenage boy sitting in a booth all by himself. He had with him a glass of juice and was busy writing in a little journal. Instantly, Virgo recognized him. Her family was good friends with his family after all. And she was especially close to his older sister.

"Hey Ander! What are we doing?"
Alexander Snow scowled. "Don't call me Ander!"

"Okay fine, whatever! What's that?"
"It's nothing! Go away!"

Virgo scoffed. "Okay, Ander. Where's your sister."
"Don't know, don't care. Probably with her fiance somewhere."
"Ugh. Then who am I supposed to watch the Parade with?"

Alexander groaned loudly as Virgo sat across from him. An Avox quickly showed up to collect orders and managed to deliver their drinks in record time, bringing Virgo a strawberry daiquiri and Alexander some fruit punch.

The Parade was about to begin.

District 1 was up first. Elise wore a strapless floor-length dress that was a bright white, with faint yellow highlights. A gold tiara sat on her head. She carried herself regally, waving formally at the crowd. Stravos was on the other side of the chariot, as far away as possible from her. His suit was black with purple sparkles, and he wore a gold tie and matching earrings. He pointed finger guns and blew kisses to everyone else as he passed them by.

"Damn, what a sleezeball," Virgo sneered. "She looks nice though."

Next was District 2. Toren wore a very form-fitting grey suit that had a faint print of the District 2 seal on it, and his hair was obviously gelled back. He was smiling and waving, but his body seemed stiff and there were some very faint sweat beads on his forehead. Bellona's dress was a shimmery and ruffly blue, opened up in the front to show off her legs and trailing on the chariot behind her. All she had the energy to do was scowl.

"He volunteered, right?" Alexander mused. "I always wondered why tributes would do that. It would be awesome if I could interview him to find out."
"Good luck with that, Ander."

In the District 3 chariot, Gear's black suit had neon green gear patterns on it that seemed to glow from Virgo's perspective. He smiled nervously at the crowd, rubbing his hands together. Astrid's dark red dress was very short and low-cut, which looked pretty amusing on her. She had on some very large silver high heels, it was amazing she didn't fall over in them. It was clear from the way she put her hands behind her heads and pushed out her chest. what kind of angle she was going for.

"Is that your type, Ander?"
"What are you talking about!?"
"You're blushing."

Alexander hid his face behind his napkin. "She just looks strange...I don't know...leave me alone!"

Virgo stopped teasing him long enough to focus on District 4. While she excitedly waved at the crowd, Adella's pale blue dress was strapless and stopped right at her knees, decorated with pearls. Her hair had also been elaborately styled, complete with little starfish clips and gemstones. Haruhi kept tugging at the collar of the white dress shirt he wore under a purple-blue tux, which was the only way Virgo could describe it.

Then came District 5. Amelia's outfit was pleasantly shocking; she had on a grey suit with a bright white tie, and brown flats. She giggled to herself as she gave the crowd small and innocent little waves. Corbyn was also wearing a suit. His dark green jacket had blue accents and was left open to reveal the white dress shirt underneath. As he stared the crowd down, Virgo noticed the shiny dangling earring in his right ear.

"I wouldn't have done brown shoes for both of them," Virgo mused.
"You're not the stylist, are you?"
"A girl can dream!"

Zilla from District 6 wore a pale blue dress that flowed out behind her, with a long white scarf hanging off her arms. She had a crown made of peacock feathers, and seemed rather confused by the whole experience. Charles's suit was a bright red with black accents and a black tie. He tapped his black dress shoes against the floor in the chariot in a rhythm as he studied the crowd. He also wore a crown, this one made of red feathers instead.

In the District 7 chariot, Veles's suit jacket was a forest green with a faint brown branch design woven into it. He wore a light green ruffly dress shirt. His arms hung limp at his sides as he took in everything around him with a deadpan face. Darra's sparkly black jumpsuit looked very tight on her, as she folded her arms, which were very conveniently revealing part of her chest, and scowled.

Virgo hummed. "Nice to see a break in the monotony. Something that isn't a suit or a dress."
Alexander was ignoring the Parade by this point, writing in his journal again. "Yeah, whatever."

When District 8 approached, Virgo had almost thought the tributes had switched costumes. Claodis was wearing a light brown suit with darker liens running across it to give it a wooden pattern. A matching tophat sat on her head. Twill was wearing a poofy green ballgown with gold embroidery. Luckily, both tributes seemed to be rather good sports about the whole thing, waving to the crowd with smiles on their faces.

District 9 soon came rolling out. In comparison to some of the other chariots, Lily's purple dress covered up almost her entire body, complete wit ha long train and tight sleeves. Cleveland was wearign a light grey suit with a dark grey dress shirt underneath. Lily basked in the cheers of the crowd, while Cleveland frowned and kept tugging at his shirt, while writhing around in his pants.

Virgo had to admit, it was pretty funny to watch.

As the District 10 chariot moved out, Argen suddenly blushed and covered up his face. His suit was all white, with only a black tie and a black and white tophat, as well as a little bit of silver accents. Red looked like a cowboy, with his brown overalls, leather boots, and large hat. All he wore underneath was a white shirt. He would occasionally throw his hat up in the air as the crowd cheered him on.

Weller stood firm on the District 11 chariot, wearing a dark grey suit covered in green splotches, almost reminding Virgo of military garb. The large combat boots didn't exactly help either. Acacia's dress was white and flowy, stopping just above her ankles. It was decorated in gold jewellery and rubies. her gold makeup was also very noticeable as the camera zoomed in on her face.

Bringing up the rear was District 12. Clair seemed embarrassed to be wearing a strapless red dress that was decorated with flames. Stryker's suit jacket was all black, with a red dress shirt underneath. Ey excitedly jumped up and down, hyping up the crowd as much as possible.

All in all, Virgo had to admit that was pretty cool.

She down the last of her drink, before glancing over at Alexander to say something. He was already asleep, head lying on top of his precious journal.

Clair Ivory, 17
District 12 "Female"

Clair scowled as they turned their back to their district partner. "Get me out of this."
"Don't you want to-"
"No. Get me out."

Stryker didn't argue and unzipped the back of Clair's dress. They quickly pulled it off as an Avox ran over and gave them a robe to keep them from walking around in nothing but their underwear. Suddenly, they felt so much better. Stryker just watched, with clearly no intention of changing out of eir clothes just yet.

Just Clair's rotten luck to get a stylist who refused to listen. Not that they hated dressing up, but that stupid rag they had been forced into just made them feel so weird. Definitely not the weirdest event of the night so far.

What exactly had Clair done to convince Snow they needed to be Reaped for the Hunger Games anyways?

They crowded into the elevators that would take them up to the District 12 floor. Stryker was with them. Clair decided they liked Stryker. Yeah, ey was cool. But if ey were smart, ey'd stay away from them. Clair didn't want their horrible life to rub off on Stryker and mess up anything for em.

The District 12 floor was nothing like they were expecting. It was huge. And there were beds. Beds! Clair couldn't remember the last time they had slept in a bed, Especially one as big as this. The pillows were big, and the blanket was even bigger. Just staring at it suddenly made Clair feel very tired.

Wouldn't it be nice to just go to sleep...

But first, they decided to take a nice hot shower. It felt good to clean so much grime and sweat and sparkles off them, another luxury they could rarely get in 12. They also spent way too much time playing with the different soaps and shower gels, each coming with a tantalizing smell of their own.

After trying maybe five soaps, Clair realized that combining the different scents would not make them smell any better, but was actually was too overpowering instead. Whoops.

Finally, they were lying in the warm bed, staring up at the ceiling. Clair suddenly didn't feel tired anymore. No, it was the opposite. They couldn't sleep. All they could do was look up at nothing. They felt worried. Worried about the following days to come.

There was a lot to be done. they needed to train and find a good weapon to use. They could be looking for allies, but no, maybe that wasn't a good idea. Instead, they were going to try and not accidentally piss people off. No Allies. Clair couldn't risk it. Knowing them, they would accidentally kill off their ally first thing. They weren't sure if they could risk bringing anyone's game down.

Such as Stryker. Clair knew from listening to em on the train that ey were searching for allies, even bringing up the idea to them. No. Stryker actually had a family that loved em, unlike Clair. Could they ever forgive themself if they were the reason sweet little Stryker died?

Tears slipped down their cheeks. They were crying.

Clair hissed as they tried to wipe away the tears. "No. I'm fine."
Were they really? If they were fine, they wouldn't be...
"I. Am. Fine."

The silence and the darkness gave Clair time to think. About how much they missed their parents. About how much they'd miss their district, despite there being nothing left for them. And how they really didn't want to be here. What was the point of these Games? Just to send a bunch of kids to the slaughter? Kids who didn't even do anything? Clair had never been a part of the rebellion. Never once had they voice their growing disgust of the Capitol.

Now, they were forced to give up their life to pay for the mistakes of someone else. Just another shitty day in Clair Ivory's little world.

Clair flipped onto their side, nearly kicking the blankets off the bed. They just wanted today to be over with. And every other day after that...well, maybe not. They didn't want to go into the arena. And as much as they were beat down and kicked around, they didn't really want to die.

They didn't really want to die.

But if surviving daily life in 12 was hard, then these Games were going to be a near impossible task. Did Clair have it in them? Could they really kill? Could they prioritize their life over someone else's? These were all stupid questions. Of course they had to. Clair remember snippets of past Games they watched in the district square. None of those Victors were innocent. All of them had blood on their hands.

No, it wasn't going to be easy. Nobody said it was easy. They could train themself to do it, right? Provided they didn't somehow get themself killed first. Oh, and they figured they could leave Stryker alone. Let em meet eir own demise somehow.

Clair flipped back over again, lying on their back. They felt really exhausted all of a sudden. And they'd need their sleep for tomorrow.

Hopefully, luck was on their side for once and their little plan would not go horribly wrong.

It's the parade! What did you think of the outfits the tributes were wearing? Which ones were your favourites?

Next chapter will be a little interlude where we'll meet some familiar faces. And then training will be in full swing after that. I hope you're ready!

-Vr