District 3

Rosalind Bichler of District 3 was just plain sore by the end.

She had been surveyed by a Capitolite woman she didn't know. The process was meant to make her look "presentable." She'd been in the Capitol for a day as the last tributes arrived, and after having appointments with her stylist to take her measurements to make a dress for her, and now she was really being prepped.

She was only 14, and what little hair that grew on her legs and arms was blonde, so it barely showed up. Rosalind hoped that'd stop her stylist from using the wax she had. It didn't.

Rosalind didn't have a very high pain tolerance, but she made it through without sobbing and begging her stylist to put her out of her misery like she'd wanted to, which, to her at least, was an achievement.

She just waited quietly, occasionally whimpering as they pulled wax off of her. It wasn't fair, she hadn't even finished puberty yet. She didn't consider herself old enough to be made "desirable," as her stylist said. Rosalind didn't catch her name the first time, she'd been too deep in thoughts of her brother and family and friends to listen, but she didn't care enough to ask a second time.

She was left alone to sit in a tub of liquid that felt more like slop and smelled that way too. The stylist left, and Rosalind was alone in the silence.

This wasn't the first time the girl had been left alone in silence. She'd spent a couple of nights at the Capitol as the last trains were arriving. Sometimes her silence was interrupted by her District partner coming into her room and asking her what was going on. When he'd get home. Every night Rosalind would have to tell him that he's not going to get home in a long time. It was a painful cycle.

Rosalind felt truly alone here, though. The room was huge, and far removed from the rest of the building. She was quiet, the sounds of her shifting or moving bouncing off the tiled floor and walls.

Rosalind's lower lip began to quiver totally out of the blue, and before the 14-year-old knew it, she was crying. Her cries echoed around the room, making her wallow in the sounds of her own misery. All she could hear were the sounds of her own cries, drilling into her ears. She knew she was as good as dead. She was shy, not particularly smart, and though she was prettier than some in her grade, she was only 14 and couldn't use that for anything. She cried thinking about her brother, who had nightmares about her being chosen and woke up only to see them come true.

She still wasn't exactly sure what she'd have to do from now until then, and she knew nothing about her competition except for her District partner, who was two years older than her. She sat in the tub and thought about Isaac, who must still be shut in the house with her parents, wondering what's going to happen to her. She thought about her friends, who were probably together. Maybe they'd already forgotten about her and were going about with their activities. Rosalind was easily ignored, as she was quiet, passive, and often failed to form an opinion. She didn't like to feel like she was in the way, so she simply held her place. She was fairly prim and proper, and hated fights.

Now she was thrown right into one.

Rosalind cried and cried, she didn't care that the noise was loud, she didn't care that the only things she could hear were the pathetic sounds of her own sadness. In fact, she liked it that way. She felt sorry for herself. She was cheated and it wasn't fair. She didn't choose this. She didn't even do anything to deserve this. Rosalind was rational, and she saw that none of this was her fault. She didn't cause the rebellion, she didn't kill anyone, she didn't speak out against the Capitol, she didn't even know what was happening. Now she's here, paying the price for the transgressions of people much older and more experienced than her. It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair that she should be so far away from home, she did nothing wrong.

She hurt, and stung, and it was the least of her worries by now. She would be hurting a lot more later, and she dreaded it. This wasn't right, it wasn't fair, she had no idea why this was happening. But she felt very sorry for herself. This was happening too fast and she couldn't follow any of it. She let out her tears, feeling like for the first time that she was truly alone.

The door burst open suddenly, and Rosalind's stylist was there, looking stern as she grabbed Rosalind's shoulder and pulled the sobbing girl to a standing position. She handed Rosalind a towel and started dragging her back. Rosalind whimpered and kept going, trying to stop crying as she went. She looked up and, through blurry, teary eyes, saw a person her age, with light copper hair pulled back into a ponytail and freckles. The other person was watching her as she went, green eyes slightly wide with shock. They couldn't have been more than a year or two older than Rosalind and looked at her in shock. They were herded into the room after making eye contact with her, looking slightly shocked and upset.

Rosalind heard a very clear, "Oh, don't you start crying too!" from the other room and realized that a good number of people heard her breakdown loud and clear. She walked quickly to avoid hearing the other tribute's tears.

.

District 3's Kepler Johnson was really confused.

He had no idea where Temple and Planck were, first of all. He spent all night wandering around the building trying to find them. The last time he'd seen them, they said goodbye to him, but they always said goodbye to him in the morning and they were always back by dinner. Goodbye was always a promise to come back, and Kepler was starting to wonder why they hadn't come back yet. They promised.

Now Kepler had a new friend, though, a girl named Rosalind. She was younger than him, but she was very nice. He wondered if maybe she knew where Temple and Planck were, and every night she told him that they weren't going home soon.

Kepler was walking around the room he'd been put in. There were a lot of not nice people here, and he had just had to deal with one of them. The 16-year-old walked around the room, looking everywhere he could think for his siblings.

Temple was three years older than him at 19. She had red hair she usually kept in a wavy ponytail and freckles, with eyes that matched her brother's shade of gray. Planck, the oldest of the siblings at 22, had dark brown hair and the same eyes. He also had freckles like Temple. Sometimes he'd let Kepler try to count them, but there were far too many to keep track of. Kepler still liked to try, though. The repeated action of having a finger on his brother's cheek and counting out loud was calming to him.

He continued to walk in circles, waiting for the door to open again and hoping that Temple and Planck would enter. They'd probably be covered with some kind of dust or soot and sweat because they worked very hard when they left. That was alright, though, after all, they were still his siblings and he still wanted them next to him.

The door opened and Kepler, after a second, looked up, hoping to see his siblings. Instead, though, he saw the mean ugly man from earlier. Kepler deflated, turning around and continuing his search. He didn't like that man, and that man didn't like Kepler.

The man was carrying an outfit, one much like Kepler wore on the last day he saw his siblings. Kepler didn't like the outfit he wore on his reaping day, it was itchy and too tight. He much preferred to wear sweatshirts, especially his brother's. He saw people at school that told him they wore sweatshirts of their boyfriends and girlfriends, but Kepler didn't have one of those, so he was fine wearing his brothers. He liked the warmth, the smell of home, the space he had.

"Here's your outfit for the chariot ride," the man said.

Kepler shook his head. He knew that shaking his head meant no, and if he said no then the person couldn't do whatever they had planned to do to him. It was against the rules.

The man took the garment off the hanger and started unbuttoning it. Kepler realized too late that the man must not have seen him shake his head as his arms were being put through the shirt.

Mama told him that if that person kept doing it, he should vocalize. Kepler didn't like talking very much, but he liked this even less so he spoke up. "No," he said.

"It's cute that you think you have a choice," the man said, his face going into an expression Kepler hadn't seen much at home. He still wasn't sure what it meant, he couldn't tell.

The shirt was buttoned up, even the button at the collar, which made Kepler make a choking noise. It was too tight and Kepler didn't like it. The man must not have heard Kepler clearly the first time.

"No!" he said it louder this time, trying to make sure them man heard him this time. If the mean man heard him, he had to stop. Those were the rules. If not, Mama would yell and send him to his room.

"Shut up!" said the man, taking Kepler's arms and putting them through a metallic suitcoat. The reflective surface hurt Kepler's eyes and he tried to take the jacket off, but his stylist buttoned it before he could get it off the whole way. "Stand still," he said, his voice kind of growly.

"No," Kepler said quietly, but the man didn't stop. Pants were put on his legs, and socks and shoes on his feet. He was still trying to undo the button of his suit, but he had never been very good with them and it was too high up for him to see.

"Phew," the man said, taking a comb to Kepler's brown hair forcefully and causing him to raise his voice and protest. The man either didn't understand what he was trying to say or didn't care, but he didn't talk to Kepler at all after that, just shoved him out the door. He wanted to keep looking for Temple and Planck, but instead he saw the mean woman that pretends she's Mama and Rosalind.

Kepler waved to Rosalind. He knew that waving meant hello, or goodbye. "Hello!" he clarified.

"Hi," Rosalind said. She was wearing a nice sparkly black dress that ended at her knees and a red headband. Kepler noticed that she stood tensely, but her expression didn't look sad so he wasn't sure what she was feeling. He just kept smiling.

"Alright, alright, we're getting in our chariots now," the mean woman said, walking towards a giant thing with wheels and two horses. Kepler followed, but as he got closer, the horses started to scare him. They were very big.

"No," he said, stopping. He did not want to get any closer. He decided instead to start the other way, looking for his siblings. He felt his shoulder being grabbed and cried out in pain as the mean woman started dragging him the other way, closer to the horses.

They were so big. Kepler didn't like them. He fought the mean woman.

"No!" he said, trying to get her to hear him, "No!" The room was quiet now, and Kepler was sure if he said it loudly she'd let him go. "No!" she didn't let him go. She didn't stop until they were right next to the horses. "No." Kepler was afraid. He didn't want to get on the thing with wheels. He didn't like the horses.

"Avox! Get him in the chariot!" the mean woman said. A young man came around from the front of the thing, where he was sitting with ropes in his hands and nudged Kepler's back.

"No," said Kepler. The man didn't say anything. He was frowning sadly, Kepler could tell that, but he didn't talk, he just nudged the 16-year-old again. Kepler didn't want to get on the chariot though. "No," Kepler said, but the man didn't listen either. Unlike the past two, this man didn't hurt Kepler, instead nudging him up the stairs and looking at him sadly. Kepler didn't understand, but he was used to that.

He stood next to Rosalind, who was staring at the ceiling. In front of them, Kepler saw a girl that looked like a goddess in a silky golden dress, a green laurel crown around her head. Beside her was a boy dressed in a suit with a helmet on his head so Kepler couldn't see what color hair he had. Kepler started tugging at his collar as the doors opened.

The room filled with noise from outside, causing Kepler to cover his ears. It was too loud, it hurt. Kepler didn't like it.

"No," Kepler said, quietly.

The ground Kepler was standing on started to move, causing Kepler to crouch down, trying to hide, keep his balance, and shut out the noise all at once.

"No," he said, glancing up at Rosalind helplessly, wondering if she could stop it.

It was loud and there were lots of people, which scared Kepler. He peeked a little bit over the ledge of the chariot as they sped past, wondering if he could find Temple and Planck in the crowd.

When they all said goodbye, they'd made a promise to return to each other.

As he was looking at the crowd helplessly, Kepler realized that maybe he was the one that was breaking the promise.

~.~.

District 9

Guinness Fielder was staring.

The male tribute from District 7 looked good. Guinness couldn't even remember his name, but dang.

"Yo!" His District partner slapped him on the back, her eyes alight with amusement. "Your gay is showing."

"Anyone would be gay for that guy," Guinness muttered, slightly embarrassed.

"He's kind of out of your league, though, don't you think?" Rune asked. "If I remember right, he's on the older side of things.

"Yeah," Guinness said, sighing. "I know."

"There's no harm in just looking though," Rune trilled, taking a look around the room. She was wearing a dress that's color matched her skin tone almost perfectly, just slightly darker. The part of the outfit that really stood out was the piece in her hair, coming from where her ponytail was. It was an almost peacock-like ensemble of feathers in the color of the rainbow. Probably connecting her to her reaping outfit.

Guinness and Rune hit it off immediately. They had never met before the reaping, but that didn't matter. Guinness was just a friendly person, he made friends wherever he went. It didn't help that he hit it off with people easily and got attached. He was usually unafraid and jumped into things quickly. He broke the ice and got people to smile, that was what he was good at. He was a loyal friend and a fierce protector, he was a romantic and a dreamer, he was young and lively. Far too much so to be here.

They had been talking about the adventures they could have together, and other things like that. Both of them were still blissfully unaware of what was going to happen. They just stayed focused on the present and avoided thinking about the future if possible. They were both big past people, talking about their family and friends non-stop, chatting until one had to pause to breathe and the other jumped in.

Guinness had talked about his parents, who had named all four of their children for alcohol.

He explained that he was the oldest at 15. Shari was his twin sister, but nobody really guessed because they looked so different from each other, then Bailey, who was 13, and finally, Whiskey, who was 11. Guinness talked about how Shari was just like him in personality, and how they never ran out of things to talk about. One of the hardest parts of being away from home was not having her.

Bailey was imaginative and loved nature. She loved to go collect flowers. Guinness talked about how Bailey was so dynamic: one day she was showing off her new dress, the next she was wearing overalls and a hat, covered in mud.

Then, he talked about Whiskey, the youngest, who looked just like his older brother with the same freckled-covered face, shaggy copper hair, and bright brown eyes, and aspired to be just like Guinness. Guinness talked proudly about how his little brother liked to follow him around, and often stole Guinness's favorite charcoal newsboy hat and wore it when he thought he wouldn't get caught. Guinness didn't mind, of course, the 15-year-old was glad to be admired.

Rune picked up the conversation as soon as Guinness finished, jumping into a story about her and her oldest brother Stark venturing as close to the fence as they could get, then about her and her older sister Farin having footraces with people that lived around her. Guinness was impressed at these stories and felt a sense of admiration for his District partner. Not to mention the fact that he already liked her because of the statement she made at the reaping.

The train ride to the Capitol had been a few days, but they went by quickly as Rune and Guinness chattered and taught each other games. They created soccer with a dinner roll and two forks that represented goals if one of them was able to kick the roll past the fork. They played cat's cradle. They played baseball with a crumpled up piece of paper and a ruler. They even played monkey in the middle with their escort's handbag.

Now, they were together and surrounded by 22 other tributes. Guinness felt nervous, as these people had most certainly had different upbringings than he did, as they were all from different places. Guinness swallowed hard as he climbed up on the chariot, helping Rune up as she followed. In front of them, the designated male tribute from District 8 gave a side glance at the chariots behind him, and Guinness tried not to stare. He was wearing a clean black suit, his light brown hair neatly styled out of his eyes. His District partner was wearing a red dress, but mostly looked uncomfortable. Up close, Guinness could see a change in Duffel's haircut, from where it was singed off at the reaping it appeared to be clean and tidy.

Guinness looked past them, trying to get another glance at the boy from District 7, before he was thrown backwards, almost falling off, as the chariot started moving.

The crowd was cheering loudly, and Guinness wasn't sure what to do. The sheer size was enough to make him freeze, the noise loud. He liked it, of course, but instead of smiling or waving, he just hung tight onto the side of the chariot and stared, in awe, at the crowd. Next to him, Rune looked just as stunned as he did, but not nearly as happy.

"This is amazing!" Guinness said cheerfully, looking at the deep crowds. Rune didn't respond to that, and Guinness kept staring at the people as the chariot pulled up and the President stepped down to make his speech.

President Augustus cleared his throat, glancing down at the 24 tributes. "Welcome. Welcome Capitolites, welcome to our 24 designated tributes. This is the first event of the first annual Hunger Games." Guinness had to strain to hear him with the sound system they were using. The President kept talking. "Take a good look at your tributes, Capitolites. Take a good look at the sacrifices that have been sent from the Districts."

Guinness noticed Rune put a middle finger up under the chariot. Looking around, the other tributes looked mad like she did. There were a couple of cameramen going around the chariots as President Augustus talked. Knut was flipping the cameras off when Guinness looked over. The District 9 boy deflated as the President kept on talking.

"One of these twenty-four teenagers is going to win fame, glory, and riches. Their life will never be the same. The others will serve as a reminder to the Districts of the danger of rebellion, and the consequences of the innocent lives they took from us." The crowd is quiet.

Guinness had forgotten what this was all about. Now, though, he felt the same sadness and fear he had been burying for the past days. The Capitolites, he noticed, were drinking in his every word. The tributes just looked angry as the chariot from District 1 started back. Gradually, the boy from that District started smirking again, his District partner just looking uneasy. The other chariots followed.

The boy from District 2 peers out of the too-big helmet, his eyes noticeably blue. His District partner was smiling and waving easily. The District 3 chariot appeared to only have one tribute in it, the girl that was red-faced and close to tears. It wasn't until Guinness heard a loud "No!" that a pair of gray eyes appeared over the side of the chariot, that belonged to her District partner.

The District 4 boy was scowling, his District partner half-heartedly waving at the crowds. The District 5 boy was wringing his hands nervously, and his District partner was scowling and crossing her arms. Next, the District 6 girl flashed her middle finger at the crowd, causing an uproar, and the boy just stood in his place. The District 7 boy that Guinness was staring at earlier was physically restricting his District partner, who was shouting obscenities at the top of her lungs. Next came the District 8 chariot. Knut appeared to regain his common sense and just scowled, dropping the fingers. His District partner was scowling as well. Guinness's chariot suddenly lurched forward again, and this time Guinness stayed away from the edge, the applause fading into a buzzing noise as he began to panic.

.

Rune Lachapelle was mad. She didn't really know it until she was being paraded in front of the whole nation, treated like a trophy, like an object, not like a person.

Like Guinness, she'd forgotten what this was all about. She'd just realized it earlier than him. While her District partner hung off the side of the chariot, smiling, Rune couldn't bring her energetic personality to the surface. It hurt too much.

The ride back was dynamically different than the ride out. The applause was quieter, quiet enough that she could hear the boy from District 3 yelling, the girl from 7 screaming obscenities, and, beside her, the sound of Guinness choking for air.

Rune felt bad, as she was the youngest child, and she didn't know what to do for him. She had never been much of a babysitter, and now she had no idea how to help her District partner, who was hiding in the chariot even when they were away from the crowds.

"Guinness?" she asked gently, crouching as best as she could.

"P-Please don't kill me!" the boy gasped, moving away from her. His brown eyes were wide and full of horror. "Please!"

"I'm not going to kill you," the girl said, as gently as she could. "I promise."

"Only one!" he gasped, reaching up and pressing his knuckles into his eyes. "Only one c-can go…" he trailed off, his breathing becoming more jagged.

"Not yet," Rune said quietly. She didn't know what to say to him. After all, he was right. Only one could go home. And of course she wanted to get there. Of course he wanted to get there. Of course they all wanted to get back there. Back to where they belonged.

Guinness got up quickly and scurried out of the chariot, running to the elevator to go back to his compartment. Rune didn't think it smart of the Capitol to allow 24 fiery teens to have social time, but she was going to take advantage of any chance she could have. She looked around at some of the clusters that were forming.

Suki was trying to fight the poor Avox that was driving her chariot. Malthe was trying to tell her that he was one of them, at one point, but Suki was beyond listening to him. She was still screaming profanities and wrestling her District partner.

"Hey there." A voice behind her caused Rune to turn around. It was the girl from District 10. She had brown hair down past her shoulders and brown eyes that locked confidently with Rune's. "Jessie Adams, nice to meet you."

"Rune," the girl introduced herself.

"Good to meet you. Cool hairpiece."

Rune smiled a little bit. "Thanks."

Rune didn't like it. She felt like it was way too commercial, and it was going to facilitate so many stereotypes. It made her angry, just thinking about all the labels that were going to be put onto her now, most of them totally wrong and hurtful. Labels like "butch" or "masculine." Or, even worse and disgustingly wrong, "confused" and "experimenting." She had taken it her whole life, and knew that she could handle it now, too, though she also knew it wouldn't be easy. She was proud of her identity, and she so often wished she could just show it off without being a target, or being seen as "abnormal."

"This is such a great idea, isn't it?" Jessie said sarcastically, glancing to where Suki was now screaming at the "pieces of Capitol scum" horses. "Letting us walking corpses congregate."

Rune laughed a little bit, but quickly put her guard back up. She wasn't designed to be a fighter, and she knew it. "The Capitol isn't exactly full of good ideas," she remarked, and Jessie gave a small laugh in return.

The pair from District 1 walked by just then, and when the boy noticed Rune's hairpiece, his face twisted into an expression of disgust. Rune felt both defensive and horrified. He was 18, not too much older than her, but his look was predatory- and not in a kinky way.

"Well, uh," Jessie said, shifting uncomfortably, "Want to meet my District partner? He's not too bad."

"Sure," Rune said, trying not to let her discomfort show. Jessie walked over to where her District partner was talking to the boy from District 5.

"Oliver!" The aforementioned boy looked up, flipping some of the shaggy, dark hair out of his eyes and giving Rune a smile.

"Oh, hey there Jessie! And… Rune, right?"

"Yeah…" Rune said. She admittedly hadn't remembered his name until Jessie mentioned it.

"I remember you from the reapings," he said. Rune realized he probably wasn't the only one. She had never considered herself particularly memorable before, but now she realized that the people that would remember her would be the ones that had strong feelings on the identity she represented, which was both good and bad.

"Yeah," she said quietly, awkwardly.

"This is…"

"Charge. Mayer." The boy from District 5 waved at them. He was of Native American descent, with brown skin, black hair, and brown eyes.

"Good to meet you, Charge," Jessie said good-naturedly. Rune still had her guard up, even though the pair from 10 were so hospitable. Charge seemed slightly awkward, his eyes occasionally looking for his District partner, who was talking to some of the younger tributes.

"You too," Charge said quietly. He looked kind of lost, and his features changed to relief when the Peacekeepers announced that it was time for us to go to bed. The group walked to the elevator together, waiting in line behind the pair from Seven. Suki had calmed down finally, and Malthe looked disheveled and exhausted. Rune noticed that he was no longer wearing his suit-coat, instead it was wrapped around the shoulders of the 18-year-old tribute from District 8. The jacket was far too big, the shoulders especially too wide, but Duffel looked a lot more comfortable with it.

"Hey there," Malthe said, flashing them all a smile. Rune decided he was good-looking, but knew that if she said that to most people they would just accuse her of not being gay. And she didn't want to deal with that right now, she was too tired. She was sick of explaining that she wasn't romantically nor sexually attracted to boys, even if she recognized that they were good-looking. The pair from 7, Oliver, Duffel, and Charge got into the elevator, but Rune decided to wait for the next one, as did Jessie. The elevator left, leaving Jessie and Rune together.

"I feel so lost right now," Jessie confessed. Rune wished that the 10 girl wouldn't be so open with her. Rune was already open with Guinness, telling him everything about her, about her siblings, about her hobbies, everything. She didn't need to be open with anyone else that would have to die for her to live.

"Hm," Rune said awkwardly.

"I think you're brave. For wearing… Y'know. I know you're probably sick of hearing about it, but… I wish I could have your courage. I'd get crucified back home if I wore something like that so openly. We don't have to talk about that anymore, I'd like to know more about you than that, but…" she shrugs awkwardly. "You did inspire people, amidst all the rough patches."

Rune looked over, surprised. "Really? Oh." She didn't know what to say to that. She wasn't very good at that kind of thing.

"Yeah," Jessie said, as the elevator came back to get them.

"What's your life like?" she asked.

Rune shrugged in response, knowing she had to watch who she opened up to.

"That's okay," Jessie sighed. "I understand."

"Yeah…" Rune scratched the back of her neck awkwardly as the elevator doors opened. "Night," she said, as sincerely as she could.

"Night," Jessie said back.

When Rune walked into the living room, Guinness was there, swinging his feet off his chair and eating a chocolate éclair.

"Hey," he said. He spoke differently, though, an overtone of innocence had been sucked out of his voice. He already sounded hollow, and the real horrors hadn't begun yet.

Rune smiled at him, but her smile was slightly sad. "Hey," she said quietly.

"Want any?" he gestured to the dessert platter.

"I won't sleep if I eat sugar," she said. Their relationship at this point was very tender. After he had run away at chariots, nothing would ever be the same between them. They both knew it.

"Yeah. I probably won't either." His slight twinge of an Irish accent is especially evident on the sound of the long i. "But, you only live once, right?"

"True," Rune said with a forced smile. She picked up a small cannoli. "I'm gonna go to bed," she said.

"Mmkay. Night."

He gave her a smile, but it wasn't like the other smiles he'd given her.

And the one she'd given back wasn't the same either.

District 1

Of all people to go through this beside, Champagne Walker of District 1 thought despairingly to herself, It had to be this guy.

She knew him. Oh, did she know him. Did she hate him. Everything he was, she hated. Everything that came out of his mouth disgusted her. He didn't really care much for her either. They kept their distance.

Champagne was usually kind and bubbly, and didn't dare let her façade fall in front of him. If he knew he was bothering her, he'd be satisfied, and that was the last thing she wanted.

She felt cheerful, though, in the red lace dress she was wearing, practically royal. She stumbled a little in the heels she was given to wear, but didn't let the weakness show. Instead she laughed it off when he smirked at her.

Her District partner was of Hispanic descent, with tan skin, dark hair, and blue-gray eyes. She had so often seen him picking on innocent kids. She thought at first it could've been something with his home-life, but this boy was so well cared-for. He had it all, he was attractive, a definite jock with a group of thugs behind him usually. He was well-liked, not just out of fear either. Only Champagne and her friends had seen his nasty side. But damn, did he have a nasty side. He had hit Champagne's books out of her hands and tripped her a couple of times, but she knew she got off lucky.

He was acting different, though. Champagne was good at picking out details about people, and she noticed that he acted differently without his thugs behind him. He was also talking to her, not necessarily maliciously, mostly just awkwardly. In reality, he seemed slightly awkward to Champagne.

And, of course, at seeing a small crack in him, she was determined to dig deeper. That was the kind of person Champagne was. If she could make a positive change, she was going to do her damndest.

Of course, even though there was a crack, he was still a challenge. He was holding onto his old ways, of course. In a strange place, surrounded by strange people, their behaviors seemed to be the only thing they knew for certain. It was going to be hard to get him to let go of that.

Champagne knew that there was no good reason to try to change him. After all, they all knew plenty well what this was. And, even though neither Champagne nor Platinum nor their families were participants in the Dark Days, they were still chosen to be the sacrifices. That's why, in Champagne's opinion, they deserved to win more. They were innocents, in that respect.

Platinum walked with her to the chariots, only looking back when she stumbled. He took a step towards her and choked it quickly, turning back around. Even if he was smooth in the action, Champagne noticed, and she noticed the tips of his ears go red as well.

"Funny your name is Walker," he mused when she'd caught up to him. "Because it seems you can't even do that." It didn't sound malicious, and Champagne let out a small laugh, though her guard was still up high.

"You wouldn't walk so hot if you had to wear six-inch heels," she fired back. He looked surprised, as much as he was trying to mask it, and kept walking. "It's much harder to make a witty pun with Krietzer," she remarked, brushing some of the curly blonde hair behind her ear.

He gave her a side glance, the corner of his mouth going up. "Yeah… I guess it is."

"I'm pretty witty though. I bet I could think of something." She was testing the waters, knowing that he could lash out at any second.

He didn't, though. Instead, one of his thick black eyebrows went up. "You think so?"

"Yeah, sure. How about… Uh… It's funny you're not shedding tears now because your name is Cry-tzer?" she knew it was lame, but sometimes lame attempts at jokes could be just as funny as real attempts.

The boy just snorted. "That's the best you can do?"

"You wouldn't joke so hot if you had to wear six-inch heels," she said decidedly.

That got him to actually laugh. Not a mean kind of a laugh, just a laugh. "Alright, you'll really have to make me laugh later then."

"Why do haunted houses hate it when it rains?" she asked him.

Platinum glanced over at her, an expectant smile spreading across his face. "I dunno. Why?"

Champagne giggled a little bit, but reached up to play with the necklace around her neck nervously. "Because it dampens their spirits."

Platinum laughed: loudly. "That's a good one," he said. "Have any others?"

"Sure," she said. "Two cookies were sitting in the oven. One of them said, "wow, it's hot in here." The other said, "Oh my God! A talking cookie!"

Platinum laughed again, rolling his eyes as they entered the room that smelled like horses. Platinum wrinkled his nose at it, but Champagne didn't think it was that bad. He climbed up in the chariot, and she followed quietly, still unsure what to think.

"A man walks into a bar," she said quietly. "Ouch."

That caused him to snort again. "Those are so stupid. But not bad. I'll have to use those ones sometime."

They both went silent at that, remembering that if he wanted to go tell those jokes to friends and family, a future wife, future children, she'd have to die. She grabbed the necklace nervously as the doors began to slide open and the chariots began to move.

After the ride was over, a lot of the tributes retired. Champagne, however, was eager to start talking to some of the others, find a couple of people that could balance her skills out. As soon as the rides were over, Champagne approached her first target: the chariot for District 4.

Champagne couldn't explain what drew her there, but it certainly wasn't that the boy from that District was hot. She even stopped to talk to the other tribute, just to prove that point.

"Hello!" said the 15-year-old, smiling up at her.

"Hi," Champagne said kindly. "What's your name?"

"Crickette," they responded. "I was named after a bug."

"Were you really?"

"No," they giggled. "Actually, I was named after a pirate. Who shares a name with a bug. Nobody remembers the pirate, of course. Everyone remembers the bug."

"That's alright," Champagne said. "I was named after an alcoholic beverage."

Crickette laughed, their green eyes alight. Champagne noticed that the boy from 4 was walking towards the elevators, and knew she had to do something quick.

"I have to go now, it was nice talking to you!" The girl from District 1 turned around and sprinted the other direction, towards the scowling boy. She tripped and went flying, smacking right into him.

"What the hell!?" he sounded mad, but Champagne had accomplished her mission.

"Hello," she said. "Sorry about that. It's hard to run in 6-inch heels." She stood up and brushed off her dress.

"Why the hell were you running?" She offered her hands down to help him up, but he smacked her arms away, getting himself up and brushing himself off, looking disgusted. And she thought Platinum was a challenge.

"I wanted to catch up to you!" she said.

"Why would you want that?" he asked, sounding irritated, as he started to walk to the elevators.

Champagne kept up with him, even in the heels. He could have walked faster, but he wasn't. Or, at least, that was what she was hoping. "I wanted to introduce myself! I'm-"

"Champagne. District 1. 18."

"…Yes. That's right." He must have been pretty sharp, pretty smart, to be able to remember that. Maybe he wasn't just a stupid brute. "And you're Drake, right?"

"Yeah. What's it to you?" He jabbed the up button of the elevator, and wasn't looking at her anymore.

"I dunno. I just feel like a team would be more effective than going at it alone, that's all."

"What makes you think that I'm a team player?" he snapped.

Champagne didn't let her personality fall. "I dunno. I don't know anything about your life story. I just thought you looked like you have potential."

"I do. More than you'd ever hope to have." The elevator doors opened and Drake stepped in, giving her one last scowl before they closed. Champagne sighed, walking back to find someone else to talk to. He was pretty mean, but Champagne believed that anyone could change in the right situation.

She was determined to spark change in him, though.

She just had to keep forgetting the reason they were all here.

.

District 1's Platinum Krietzer was pretty homesick by now.

He missed home. He missed being constantly in power. He missed his friends. He even missed his younger sister Paradise, as annoying as she was at times. He missed his stuffy parents, and he even missed school. He missed his alone time, when he could steal his sister's violin and fiddle with it.

Through his sadness, he laughed a little bit. He was on a roll.

He didn't know how to approach these new people, though he was well-liked back home that was just because he was good at conforming. He was well liked because he was everything he was expected to be: good at sports, slightly unkempt, attractive, a charmer, ambitious, assertive, violent, and promiscuous. Even if he didn't like these roles, he was comfortable in them. Anything weird or different was rejected, and Platinum's biggest fear was rejection.

So, he kept some of his more feminine hobbies far away. The music- violin, of all instruments- was one of those things. He loved to sing, and he loved to play music; he was great at playing by ear, and took it as a challenge whenever he had time home alone. But, he also knew his parents would yell at him if they knew. And his friends would tease him relentlessly, calling him "gay" and "pussy" and the like. He didn't want to be rejected, so he had to be careful.

That might have been why he quickly started to like Champagne. However, she was also the scariest of all because she was the most likely of all people to reject him.

He wasn't sure how to talk to strangers, so he did the only thing he knew to do: fake it. Champagne went quickly off to the District 4 chariot, so Platinum put on a smirk and walked confidently to another District with a tribute his age: District 7.

"Hello there!" Malthe said, from where he was struggling to hold his District partner back as she threatened to fight the horses.

"Hey," Platinum said cooly.

"Nice to meet ya. I'm Malthe. This is Suki."

"FUCK YOU!" shouted Suki at an Avox that was walking past. Malthe sighed.

"I'm Platinum," the District 1 boy said, keeping the relaxed smirk. This boy looked normal: he was damn attractive, he was charming, he looked athletic, and Platinum figured that maybe they'd be one in the same.

"Good to meet you. I'm kind of struggling right now, but if you just give me a minute-" his words were interrupted by Suki shouting some more profanities.

"She's a lot to handle."

"I CAN HEAR YOU ASSWAD!" she shouted.

Platinum sneered at her. "At least I don't have the temper of a bull," he countered.

"YOU SHUT YOUR FACE!" Malthe looked desperate as Suki turned to face him, struggling against her District partner. Platinum had bullied people into submission, sure, but he'd never been in a full-on, evenly-matched fight. He couldn't say he thought he could win against Suki.

"Just relax," Malthe said, trying to be the mediator. Platinum and Suki could both see that that was bullshit. The stream of curse words was broken when the older District 8 tribute approached them.

"Hey," Duffel said awkwardly.

"Hello there!" Malthe flipped the dirty blonde hair out of his cheerful eyes. "I'm Malthe. That's… Platinum, right? Easy enough to remember. And that's Suki."

"Duffel," muttered the older tribute from 8. "Or… Duff."

"Kind of masculine for a girl," Platinum said condescendingly, causing the tribute from 8 to glance at him.

"Duffel is fine then."

"Why's your hair cut short then?" he quizzed. This tribute surely wasn't normal.

"It got burned off. Y'know, when I was actually out there fighting instead of sitting on my ass."

Platinum scowled, and it was obvious that they weren't going to be friends, so he turned around and left without as much as a goodbye to Malthe or Suki.

Suddenly, he saw a crash as his District partner fell straight into the unsuspecting boy from District 4, both of them crashing to the ground. Seeing them side-by-side was something; Champagne had pale skin, and almost white blonde hair, and looked so animated and cheerful, while Drake looked the exact opposite, with tan skin and black hair thick as darkness, scowling stiffly. Platinum wondered if now she was finally going to break, but she didn't. She just stood back up with an easy smile, and that was that.

He thought about the cookie joke again and laughed a little bit before putting his façade back up and scouting out other tributes to talk to. Unfortunately, not many others had stayed down, so once Champagne appeared to be on her own again, he found her and together, the pair started to the elevators.

When they were walking past, Platinum noticed the girl from 9's hairpiece: a big, peacock-like allusion to the colors she wore during the reaping. Knowing damn well what that represented, Platinum felt strongly repulsed. She was representing a people that Platinum ridiculed: she represented, in Platinum's opinion, the rejects, the weirdoes, the unnatural ones, the faggots. He looked the other way, not wanting his eyes to have to see the colors of the rainbow any longer than he had to.

If Champagne noticed, she didn't say anything. Platinum wasn't moving on the issue, though, even if she would have said something. They boarded the elevator in silence.

"See anyone interesting?" she asked, finally.

"Not really," he shrugged. The elevator doors opened, and the two of them walked out together as he asked her in return, "You?"

"That Four guy is interesting, that's for sure."

"I saw you plow right into him. Are you alright?"

"Yeah, fine." She grabbed her necklace, as she had done before when they were talking.

"His name is… Drake, right?" Platinum asked.

"That's right." They both sat in the common room, each of them grabbing a cupcake for dessert, a wordless agreement between them to keep talking. "He's grumpy. But we could use him."

"We?"

"Oh. I could. Sorry."

"Nah, it's alright." He was relieved to feel accepted. "We can see what we can get from him."

Champagne's green eyes were bright as she smiled over at him. "Cool."

"That's a nice necklace," he remarked, noticing the clear chandelier crystal on the end of it.

"I like it too." She held the crystal up to the light as she took a big bite of cupcake. "You can call me Pagne, by the way."

"Because you're a pagne in the ass?" he asked, with a friendly tone instead of malicious.

Champagne flinched a little bit but she laughed eventually. "You can't stop, can you?"

Platinum grinned. "Nope."

"How about you? What do people call you?"

"My mother calls me Platino sometimes. That's platinum in Spanish."

"No, your nickname can't be longer than your real name! How about… Something like… Platty?"

He glanced over at her, seeming amused. This had to be a joke. "Don't call me Platty," he said. "That's too cutesy for me."

Champagne stood up. "Sure. Well, goodnight." She had a shit-eating grin on her face. "Platty." She went to her room.

Platinum soon followed her. He knew he was acting differently here, but couldn't tell if it was for better or for worse.

The only thing he did know is that he really hoped this whole Platty business wouldn't stick.

~.~.

A/N: This one is so long! Sorry about that… These are just a big chunk of main characters all at once. That's kind of my bad. Anyways, I hope you enjoyed anyways!

Chapter Question: Since we've gotten through half of the tributes, tell me your two favorites. You don't get points for this because it was on the first draft, but I'd still like to know as it'll affect how things go in the Games and who I show more of later!

Thanks so much for reading! I know this is a long chapter, but delayed reviews are better than none, every review I get is much appreciated! Hopefully the next chapters will come out faster (and maybe be a tad bit shorter :P). Thanks again!