Joaquin Diaz, District Five

Joaquin wasn't entirely sure when he nodded off. He had a talent for falling asleep in strange places. Any time he wasn't mentally stimulated, he would end up taking a nap. It wasn't so much a voluntary thing as a symptom of boredom. If he had no reason to stay awake, his brain shut everything down.

The floor of a train wasn't even the strangest place he had ever slept in. That probably went to the mayor's daughter's treehouse three years ago. Though that story hit different now that Tesla was a casualty of the Hunger Games.

Something he most likely would be in a matter of days. His memory of the reaping was a little fuzzy to him. Partially because he was coming down from a rather spectacular high. Joaquin was not an addict. Far from it. But he was a businessman, and once he aged out of the community home he needed to find a way to feed himself. Trying his product was the best way to see how they worked. And nootropics weren't half as harmful as people said they were.

It did make waking up on a train to his probable death a little surreal, however. That was not something he wanted to do sober. Rifling through his backpack, Joaquin found a bag of weed he was supposed to give to an elderly peacekeeper for his chronic pain later that evening. He was reasonably sure that meeting wasn't going to happen.

Joaquin was about halfway through the joint when someone entered the car he was in. That was strange. The reaping was hazy, but he was pretty sure that he was the only tribute from Five that year. There was no escort, which Joaquin imagined was because no one in the Capitol wanted to enter the Districts right now. He had been under the impression he was alone, which was why he lit up so casually.

Engle Harrison, Victor of the 89th Hunger Games, stood in the doorway and looked like he was trying not to laugh. "Can't say I blame you." he said

Of course, there were still mentors on the train. He couldn't believe he almost forgot about that.

"Might as well go out in style right?" Joaquin replied, "Are you my mentor then?"

"I don't know. I wasn't given a lot of information, but was told I would be assigned a tribute at the Capitol."

To a certain point, that made sense. After all, given the quell twist it was almost impossible that the tributes would directly correspond to the districts of the Mentors. But it meant that Joaquin couldn't form a training strategy until after he was in the Capitol. That would worry him a bit more if he was under any impression that he could win.

"Ah well." He said, then held out his joint, "Do you want some?"

Engle took it, then sat down across from him. "While I'm not officially your mentor, I could probably help you in an unofficial capacity. Do you have any plans yet?"

"I'm not really a plan guy." Joaquin said, "Though, do you suppose there's a poison station during training? I'm rather good at chemistry."

The Victor grinned at him mischievously. "There was when I was in the Games. How do you think I won?"

Joaquin went from impassive to interested in seconds. "Tell me more." he said.

Engle passed the joint back to him, and they spent the rest of the train ride smoking and discussing poisons.

Acacia Springhill, District Seven

The longer the train ride to the Capitol went on, the more Acacia was convinced that both of her District Partners were idiots.

They were all in the dining car, and despite the fact that she was wearing her best 'stay away from me' expression, Carnation and Woodrow continued to engage her in a conversation. She tried to ignore them and focus on her tea, but at one point Woodrow mentioned the reaping and Acacia simply couldn't stop herself.

"For one thing, the Capitol would never do that." Carnation said.

"They did it last year. With the girl from Five." Acacia explained slowly, as if she was talking to a nine year old.

She would have preferred talking to a nine year old, actually. They were usually far less entrenched in patriotic propaganda. Seven prided itself on being a rather objective, clear headed district. But that didn't mean everyone there saw the Capitol bullshit for exactly what it was. Loyalists were everywhere in Panem, and it was clear the Banyon girl was one of them.

"You believed that announcement during the parades? That was just slander from rebel terrorists. The Capitol doesn't fix reapings. And even if they did, why would they want to punish all of District Seven?"

Acacia didn't even bother to answer that, merely pointed outside the window. They were still in District Seven, not far from the area where a Capitol reporter had died last year. Instead of a lush green landscape, the view outside was of a scorched black wasteland. Acacia remembered that night clearly, remembered how for the first time in her entire life she felt like she was heard. There was a power to the protests, a collective scream of rage from all of the injustices that District Seven had been subjected to over the years.

Except then the fires began to spiral out of control.

"There's only three of us." her other partner Woodrow said, "Besides Carnation and I are volunteers. We chose to be here."

"And what district were the people you volunteered for from?" she retorted, "District Seven. And since you clearly weren't paying attention, let me tell you about the beginning of the reaping. The Career Districts were volunteering for anyone just to make sure their top candidates got in. Seven of them volunteered. Three of them volunteered for someone from District Seven."

Woodrow looked thoughtful, which made Acacia gain a little respect for him. That respect was still practically nothing, but it did rise. However Carnation only got more defensive.

"You're full of it, Springhill. I'm sorry that you didn't ask to be here like we did, but that doesn't mean there's a great conspiracy against you. You were reaped, fair and square. All of this theorizing is you just being bitter and trying to drag everyone down with you."

Acacia didn't believe for one second that Carnation was capable of insight. The fact that the girl had stumbled upon a character trait she wasn't particularly proud of was merely coincidence. Perhaps she did lash out at people. It was an instinct to her, almost like bracing for a fall. If she was in pain, she had a tendency to share it. Bring her anger down on the people around her until the pain was manageable.

But she didn't think that she was doing it now. The Capitol was losing its grip on the districts. Every day, Acacia felt like the districts got closer and closer to freedom. There was nothing those in charge wouldn't do in order to maintain power.

"You know what, Carnation? Maybe you're right." she said, "Maybe I am just dragging everyone down with me. But that doesn't mean I'm wrong. Perhaps if you thought for yourself for once in your miserable little life instead of parroting everything your dear daddy told you, you might realize I have a point."

Carnation rose from the table and stormed out. Woodrow sat there a few minutes longer, but left eventually as well. Finally, she was alone and free to finish her tea.

It was cold.

Hades Yamaguchi, District Two

The train from District Two to the Capitol was absolutely buzzing with life. Five of District Two's victors had volunteered to mentor for this year's quell. A train car worker told him that the Capitol had prepared one of their bigger trains because of this, but Hades still felt like everywhere he went there was another person.

At first this was a blessing. He wanted to talk to his fellow tributes, and they proved easy to find. Ally was in her personal room re-watching the reapings, Nixie was violently tearing apart a steak in the train car, and Solomon was simply staring out a window on the observation deck. The problem came afterwards, when he wanted to talk to them all at once but away from the ears of the mentors. His personal quarters were too small for all of them, but everywhere else seemed to have at least one Victor about.

Eventually he found a storage room towards the back of the train that fit them all. By this point Nixie had wandered off and he needed to retrieve her again. But finally he had the three other tributes from Two all in one spot.

"Thank you for being willing to talk to me." he said.

"Is this really the best place you could find?" Solomon asked.

"Can it, rich boy." Nixie snapped, and flicked a nut she had smuggled out of the dining car towards his direction.

Hades cleared his throat, and everyone fell silent once more. "I've been thinking about last year. And how too many Careers ultimately led to their downfall. Everyone did better when they split off into two smaller groups. So I propose instead of trying to maintain an overlarge career pack, we stick together. District Two as one pack, until everyone else is dealt with."

The other tributes seemed uncertain, but Hades knew that they would come around eventually. The citizens of District Two were the smartest, strongest, most reasonable people in Panem. It was already almost unfair that two tributes went in every year. This year, with four of them, there was absolutely no reason not to claim the championship.

"That sounds great." Nixie answered, "District Two is the best!"

Ally merely shrugged her shoulders. However Solomon seemed to mull over the suggestion carefully. Hades respected how the other boy took his time. They had always been neck in neck during training. While he was a little bothered by the fact that he was awarded the second slot, he also knew that Solomon earned his place in front of him.

"I' think the concept is solid. But there are some details we may wish to iron out. If we wish to tell the other Careers about this, for example."

"I'm not one for deception. I'd prefer to be open with the others." Hades said, "Does anyone object to this?"

No one seemed to.

"Also, there may be some outer district tributes with promise. Sometimes an unexpected ally can be the difference between victory and defeat."

"Six seems to be a good number." Ally added, "So even as we are, we still have room for additional members."

Solomon nodded, "Then I think it's a good plan."

As all four of them came to an agreement, Hades felt for the first time that he could genuinely do this. Not just win the Hunger Games. He was reasonably sure he could do that easily. But he had a much larger, much more important plan.

District Two was possibly the greatest place in the whole world. Which is why it hurt Hades so much to see it exploited. The Capitol took the district for granted, using their superior military force to feed their own corruption. Hades vowed to stop this, and bring Panem into a new era of peace and prosperity.

But there was a lot of ground to cover first. Right now, Hades was a nobody. A son of a janitor, and the second male tribute for this Quarter Quell. Winning the games would give him both money and influence, both of which he needed. Even beyond that, he would need people to follow him. That was the tricky part. His ideas were good, his plans unshakeable. But he was never sure if he had the charisma to convey them.

Yet as he looked at his three new allies and they all looked at him with tentative acknowledgement of his leadership, he realized that he might have the skills after all. The future looked bright, and Hades was prepared to march triumphantly into the sun.

AN: So, I decided pretty early on that I was going to have three povs per character before we got to the games. I have only just recently realized how many chapters that makes things. Turns out this is going to be a long story. I hope everyone's ok with that. Personally, I'm excited. It gives me time to really dig into people. Like these guys! Everybody welcome Joaquin by Drredneck Acacia by Sarielrising and Hades by Verynewtothis! Next chapter we actually get to the Capitol. Thank you very much for reading, and please review!