Calvin Khadkhodaian, 15.
District 8 Male.


"So, Calvin, you're one of the youngest in this year's lineup of tributes. How does that make you feel about your chances?" the interviewer asked, holding his microphone up to Calvin.

"I guess I am, huh?" Calvin replied with a laugh. "I'm not too worried about it, really. If anything, I'm less of a target this way, right?"

"Oh, that's true!" the interviewer nodded enthusiastically. Calvin had somewhat dreaded this portion of the time before the Games; having to talk about himself had seemed like a nightmare. But his nerves had all but departed by now, thanks in no part to the interviewer's calm demeanor.

This'd be easy. Calvin was sure of it.

"Now, have you made any allies? Any friends? Surely a charming kid like you has found at least someone to hang around with."

Calvin smiled. "Oh yeah, Carter, from Ten. We've uh… well, we're buddies."

"I don't think he's come through yet, but he's older than you, if I remember correctly."

"You'd be right about that, yes. Having an older ally is pretty helpful, I think. We've got each other's backs!" Calvin confirmed.

The interviewer nodded excitedly, flashing him a thumbs up behind the camera. "That's wonderful! Now, tell me about yourself. Do you have family back home? Friends? Any hobbies or anything like that?"

"Well, I've got an older brother and a mom and dad at home. And a few friends too, I guess. Hobbies… Mm, that's trickier. I like to paint and draw, I suppose," Calvin said nonchalantly. "Ideally, I'd like to be a painter when I get older."

"Really? You don't really strike me as the type," the interviewer laughed.

"Oh yeah, it's great," Calvin smiled. "My family doesn't always approve of it. They want me to help take over the family business, but… I guess I've just never been interested in that kind of thing."

"Oh, yes, what does your family do?"

"Well, my parents and brother own and operate a few textile factories, so I bet you can see why it doesn't appeal to me," Calvin laughed. "Not to say it's a bad thing, it's just not exactly interesting, y'know?"

"Oh yes, I understand that. Now, one final question before we let you go. What's your strategy for the Games? Are you planning on sticking around and fighting, or hiding? I bet you spent plenty of time at that camouflage station if you like painting."

"Well, you'd be right about that. It was a wonderful station. As for my strategy? I don't think I should share any such plans here, but I'll tell you this much: I've certainly got a plan," Calvin answered, just barely getting his last words in as the buzzer on the interviewer's watch went off.

"Well, thank you for the insight, Calvin! I wish you the best of luck!"

"Thank you, thank you," Calvin nodded, making his way further down the carpet. He passed a few other tributes who were also being interviewed, spotting Ifer a few stations down and Carter a few past her. Calvin had expected to feel nervous, to feel overwhelmed by the gravity of the situation, but he didn't. Maybe Calvin liked being interviewed, maybe the interviewer was really good at his job, or maybe the questions just weren't as bad as he'd thought they'd be. Whatever the answer was, Calvin was pleased with the outcome, and he was especially pleased that the Capitolites were happy with it too.

Sure, Calvin was an underdog. But maybe people liked rooting for underdogs.

Making his way off the carpet, Calvin approached a set of doors that swung open at his approach. There were a pair of Peacekeepers standing guard on the other side, one of whom looked Calvin up and down before pointing down the nearby staircase.

"You're going that way, kid," the Peacekeeper directed.

"Thanks," Calvin nodded, stepping onto the staircase. Stretched out before him was a grand ballroom the likes of which he'd never seen before. The walls were coated in intricate, golden wallpaper, reflecting the light from the crystal chandelier hanging above and casting a warm glow across the entire room, like the sun as it set each evening. Massive windows lined one of the walls, each draped with cream and gold curtains; the floor was made of marble, streaks of gray providing a welcome respite from the bright white of the stone. It was something Calvin would love to capture, to put on a canvas - but there was no canvas here. So he'd keep the image in his mind instead, for whenever he got the chance.

That was, if he got the chance. It was only just beginning to sink in that tomorrow was the day they went into the Arena. No matter how much preparation, how much training and planning he'd done, Calvin still didn't feel ready for the sheer terror the next few days would bring him.

If he even lived to see the next few days at all.

"Hey, little bud, wait up!" the familiar voice of Carter called. Calvin looked back over his shoulder to see his ally exiting the same door he'd just come through moments earlier.

"I was just looking," Calvin replied, as Carter caught up to him.

"I can see why…" Carter gawked, as he looked out over the railing into the ballroom.

"Do you want to explore a bit?" Calvin asked, moving down the stairs further, Carter following him.

"Sounds good to me. I wouldn't mind trackin' down somethin' to eat," Carter replied, nodding.

"I think the food table is over there," Calvin said, pointing towards the large banquet tables, covered in food and drinks.

"Let's go then!" Carter grinned.

With that, the pair took off for the tables, Calvin doing his best to push thoughts of the next day out of his mind. He was determined to have one last night of joy, at the very least, before the nightmare began.


Chiffon Shivaan, 18.
District 1 Male.


Chiffon blinked as he pushed into the ballroom, assaulted by its bright interior. It was a beautiful place, not unlike the kind his parents would certainly love to drag him to, where Tulle would be celebrated for whatever kind of false, empty greatness the upper class of One had gifted upon him. He instinctively wanted to hate it, but he stopped when he realized just how different this ball would be.

Here, Chiffon would be the star. Not his brother, not the rest of his family- him.

Moving down the staircase, Chiffon scanned the growing crowd of people. He couldn't spot Dean or Cecil, but that didn't concern him. He casually pulled another button open on his shirt. This was his chance to mingle with the Capitolites on his own, to put a face and a name to the score he produced, and Chiffon would do his best to make an impression.

Chiffon would make himself known, make himself so memorable that the Capitol wouldn't be able to resist putting their support behind him. And Chiffon would do it his way, only his way.

He would make this game his own, no matter the cost.

Gliding off the stairs, Chiffon made his way into the crowd, waving to many of the Capitolites as they turned to look at him. "Good evening!" Chiffon exclaimed, giving a small bow to a woman who stood nearby, the top of her face covered by a mask that shone like fish scales. Her gawking expression quickly turned into a laugh, and she couldn't help but cover the bottom half of her face, which was quickly reddening.

"Good evening to you too," the woman replied. "You did wonderfully on your score."

"Oh I know, isn't it wonderful?" Chiffon grinned. "May I ask your name?"

"Agapetos."

"Well, Miss Agapetos, I appreciate your support," Chiffon smiled, dropping her a wink.

"Of course," Agapetos said, laughing again. As she did, Chiffon could distantly hear loud, echoing voices as if somebody was yelling from the other side of a door. Chiffon shook it off, pretending to not hear it - the chance to talk to the Capitolites uninterrupted wasn't one he'd give up so easily.

"Now, would you maybe like to get some drinks or something? Or we could dance," Chiffon suggested. "I happen to be a fantastic dancer."

Agapetos shook her head. "Oh, no, I'm okay. I've got a date already. But I'm sure there are plenty of others who would be thrilled to be entertained by you."

"Of course! Isn't that the whole point of the Games?" Chiffon asked, and the woman laughed again.

"Here, maybe you should try talking to one of my friends. I don't think he's got a dancing partner," Agapetos said, pointing to a tall man across the room, decked out entirely in electric blue and black.

"Why, thank you for the suggestion, Miss! I hope to see you soon," Chiffon concluded suavely, waving as he drifted further into the crowd, continuing to ignore the yelling. Chiffon knew he had to at least try to capitalize on the lack of other tributes in the room. He had nearly all of the most important Capitolites in the palm of his hand right now, and that wasn't something he could give up so easily no matter how curious he was about whatever was going on. He pushed forwards past a server, grabbing a glass of champagne from her tray, and took a sip as he sauntered up to the man.

"Oh, hello," the man said with a small wave.

"Your uh, friend over there sent me over here," Chiffon replied with a smile, pointing to where Agapetos stood.

"Oh did she? Well, it's nice to meet you, I'm Aedan; that's my sister you talked to," Aedan chuckled, offering a hand which Chiffon took, shaking firmly. "We've been watching you, on TV, you know?"

"Wonderful! I don't know a soul who hasn't been," Chiffon grinned. "I've been watching myself too. I really do look quite good, don't I?"

Suddenly, a large booming noise rang out across the ballroom. Everyone went silent, turning towards a set of ornate, wooden double doors across the room. "What the fuck!" Cecil yelled, his voice finally permeating through the doors. "This is bullshit! You can't stop me!"

Wincing slightly, Chiffon handed Aedan his drink. "Hold this, I'll be right back."

Aedan nodded, opening his mouth to speak, but Chiffon was already gone. He snaked through the crowd as quickly as he could towards Cecil, who was still yelling obscene curses over the quiet chattering of the other attendees.

"What the hell are you doing, Cecil?" Chiffon exclaimed as he pushed his way to the front of the crowd.

"I'm-"

"He's causing a scene over our rules, that's what he's doing," one of the waiters snapped, standing across from Cecil.

"Cecil, man, what the fuck?" Chiffon asked, grabbing him by the shoulder. "Get it together. Their rules are their rules and you need to follow them."

"Well I don't want to be here, so why shouldn't I be able to have some alcohol?! I'm not that young," Cecil snapped, smacking Chiffon's hand away.

"Come on buddy, let's, uh, go for a walk and cool off, okay?" Chiffon insisted, taking his shoulder again and forcibly steering him away from the center of the ring of attendees that had been created. It was a spotlight, certainly, but not the kind of spotlight Chiffon wanted - especially not if Cecil was going to cast a negative light on their alliance.

Chiffon couldn't let one such burden weigh them all down. It would be the end of them all.

"What the hell was that about?" Chiffon growled, pulling Cecil through another door that led to an empty side hall.

"I just don't see why they have that stupid rule!" Cecil replied. "It's dumb. I might die tomorrow, so they should let me do whatever."

Chiffon sighed. Any impression Cecil made on the Capitolites would naturally also affect Dean and Chiffon. The last thing they needed was for Cecil to ruin their sponsor chances; having to look after Cecil was already challenging enough. "I understand that, but you don't want to leave a bad impression on the Capitolites. They'll be our lifeline in the Arena, so it's important that they think well of you - and of us."

A soft click of the door behind them alerted Chiffon to the presence of another person. He turned around and immediately let out a sigh of relief as he saw Dean approaching. There was something about the Four boy that made working with Cecil more favorable than annoying. Chiffon knew that he didn't have the patience to calm Cecil down, but as Dean was willing to put in the work to keep their alliance together, Chiffon was fine with doing the bare minimum to maintain it. At least for now.

"What happened?" Dean asked, making his way up the hall to where they'd stopped, looking more worried than usual.

"The kid threw a bitch fit about rules, that's what happened," Chiffon replied, releasing Cecil's shoulder.

"I didn't. I just thought the rules were stupid!" Cecil replied, rubbing at his shoulder where Chiffon had released him. "And your grip was way too tight. That hurt."

"Well, sorry, but you weren't gonna stop embarrassing yourself any other way," Chiffon replied, moving to stand next to Dean.

Dean crouched a little to get on Cecil's level. "We've talked about this already. They're just setting rules in place to help you," Dean said softly. "Besides that, we're just here to have a good time; there's no need to get so worked up."

Cecil grumbled, rolling his eyes. "I guess."

"All right, we're done here," Chiffon proclaimed, looping his arm through Dean's.

"What's that for?" Dean asked, blinking at their interlocked arms.

"Well, you are my date right? I don't know if we need them, but you're mine," Chiffon mused. "Who else would I take other than you?"

"Am I? I don't know. Isn't this just purely a business relationship?"

"You keep telling yourself that," Chiffon nodded. "There's nobody I'd rather take."

"Oh. Thank you?"

"Of course! You've got the best seat in the house to all of me for free. What else could you possibly want?"

Chiffon smirked as Dean turned a progressively brighter shade of red behind his sea glass blue mask. "Well... uh… we should go then? Let's go," Dean mumbled, running his free hand through his hair.

"I'm leaving either way. I'd rather go than watch you two do whatever this is. Plus I'm hungry, I'll see you two later!" Cecil piped up, turning running out the door.

"Don't do anything stupid!" Chiffon called after him. But the boy just flipped him a single middle finger as disappeared through the door. Chiffon followed, pulling Dean by the arm as they exited back out into the ballroom. There was soft music playing now, and the amount of people had about doubled since they'd exited. Chiffon internally groaned as he spotted several other tributes dotted around the crowd, conversing amicably with the guests. That pipsqueak had cost him his best chance at winning the Capitolites over.

"Oh. Perhaps we should've stopped him," Dean suggested as they milled about the crowd.

"If he gets himself in trouble again, we're not bailing him out," Chiffon retorted.

Dean recoiled in shock. "Why not?"

"He's gotta figure out how to make mistakes," Chiffon shrugged. "It's as simple as that. He's not gonna figure anything out if people keep coming to his rescue."

"I mean, I guess," Dean replied, scratching his chin. "I just don't want to see him make mistakes like I did."

Chiffon hummed his agreement. He could understand Dean's hesitation, but at the same time, Dean was a Career like Chiffon, while Cecil wasn't anything like them. It wouldn't help either of them if they kept babying Cecil.

As the two found their way to one of the tables laden with food, Chiffon noticed a small pause in the music as it slowed down. He glanced towards the center of the room, which was slowly clearing out, save for a few scattered President herself was approaching the floor, a shorter man clad in red and black on her arm.

"I think they're gonna dance," Chiffon pointed. "Do you know how to dance?"

"No? Why would I?" Dean asked. "I mean, do we have to?"

"Yeah! C'mon, it'll be fun, I'll show you!" Chiffon laughed, pulling Dean with him onto the floor despite the other boy's protests. Chiffon considered himself very lucky that Pomela had taught him a few things about slow dancing - or, more correctly, that she had used him to help her practice.

"What do you want me to do?" Dean asked, shuffling awkwardly to stand in front of Chiffon.

"Put your hand here," Chiffon explained, taking one of Dean's hands and placing it on his shoulder. "And give me your other one. Follow my steps. I won't let anything bad happen." Dean nodded, letting Chiffon lace their fingers together and place a hand on Dean's waist.

"This is… odd," Dean remarked, as Chiffon began guiding them in small circles as confidently as he could manage.

"I guess, yeah. We don't have to dance if you don't want to," Chiffon said softly, squeezing Dean's hand. "But, I think we should try! Let's have some fun."

"Let's have some fun?" Dean echoed. "I don't know if this is the time for fun but… I guess it's our last chance for it, right?"

"Right."

They drifted in circles for a few beats, Chiffon doing his best to follow the rhythm of the music. Dean stepped on Chiffon's toes a few times, but eventually got the hang of it as they continued gliding around the dance floor.

"Hmm, maybe this isn't so bad," Dean smiled softly, looking up at Chiffon. "It's pretty fun actually… an easy pattern to follow. right?"

"Right," Chiffon nodded, focusing on keeping them moving, not on how close their faces were and certainly not on the gentle smile that crossed Dean's lips. Now wasn't the time for such thoughts to enter his mind. Chiffon couldn't be distracted, not when the arena was practically looming over him, not when he was so close to achieving everything he'd ever wanted. But even so, a small part of him had already accepted that Dean was more than just an ally - he was a friend, whether Chiffon was willing to admit it aloud or not.

He could allow himself one night to relax, to live in the moment with his friend. But tomorrow, when he had to focus on the task at hand, all of this would be nothing but a memory. Chiffon couldn't let his feelings for Dean get in the way of his Victory.


Revan Allerix, 18.
Victor of the 207th Hunger Games.


Revan Allerix had never particularly enjoyed the Capitol, much less its parties. More often than not, he'd been dragged out as something to show off; even though he was an adult now, the Capitolites still wanted to gawk at the youngest Victor of the decade. But he wasn't just an object to show off - he was a person, with his own feelings and hopes and desires. He hated that the Capitol never saw him as that.

He'd come to learn he couldn't expect anything better from Capitolites.

Revan sighed as he climbed the stairs, gripping the railing tightly; the mask he was forced to wear, carved to look like smoke curling around his face, was impossible to see out of. He didn't give a shit about the mask or the theme of the ball - masquerade was a stupidly long word anyway - but he did give a shit about the copius amount of alcohol provided, which gave him a reason to stick around. Well, that and the fact that he had to watch Pluto, who was notorious for getting into trouble on his own.

If it weren't for that, he'd be far, far away from here, just as he'd always wished to be.

As he hit the top of the stairs and turned the corner to go down a side hall, he felt eyes boring into his back. It wasn't like he was anywhere near the party anymore - in fact, he was just about as far away from it as possible. Who could possibly be up here?

"Who's there?" Revan called, not bothering to turn around yet.

"How did you- nevermind, it's just… well, just me," the familiar voice of Omega Riley responded.

Revan raised an unamused brow as he turned to face the older Victor. "Oh, it's you. Why the hell are you tailing me?"

"Yeah, it's me? I've been meaning to come talk to you, but you haven't exactly been easy to find," Omega said sheepishly, tugging at the mask that covered half of his face. It appeared to be cut from pure ice, his piercing blue eyes a perfect match for the spikes that jutted off at all angles.

"Did you consider there might be… oh, I don't know, a reason for that?" Revan snapped. "I don't want to talk to anyone."

"But- hold on, hear me out for a second here," Omega said, grabbing him by the shoulder as he turned to walk away. "Just… here, I'll walk you wherever you're going, okay?"

"Nope," Revan insisted, shaking his head. "Go bother someone else."

Omega paused for a moment, as Revan turned to walk away again but he was stopped by the other Victor moving in front of him before he could get more than a few steps.

"Get out of the way," Revan said as he tried to maneuver around Omega, only to get blocked again.

"No. Not until you talk to me. Or hear me out at least, you don't have to talk to me," Riley replied, crossing his arms across his chest. "Then you can go screw off to whatever side hallway of the house you want to, to be alone. Just come for a walk with me first."

"Fine, let's walk then," Revan sighed, relenting as Riley fell into step next to him.

Omega seemed oddly nervous as he wrung his hands together in front of him. "I just-"

"Nope. Nope I don't want to hear it."

"Hear-? You don't even know what I'm gonna say! You said-"

"You're gonna tell me you're sorry about my brother or whatever the fuck and I don't want to get into that again, especially not now. I said I'd walk with you, not that I'd listen."

"Oh… okay, well, what if I wanted to talk to you about other things?"

"You don't even like me. Why are you tracking me down just to talk to me?"

"I- hold on just a minute, why do you think that? I mean, you remind me far too much of my brother, but I don't dislike you in any capacity," Omega asked, stopping in his tracks.

"I stole victory right out from underneath Creed," Revan replied, nails digging into the palms of his hands. "She should be here instead of me, and if she was, maybe things wouldn't have gone so badly in Two. I don't blame you, really."

"What are you talking about? Omega cried, eyes widening. "Absolutely not! I don't hate you, much less for something like that. You were a kid just trying to survive; I can't fault you for that one bit. I was like that too, once upon a time."

It was possible that Omega Riley didn't hate him. But Revan didn't have a reason to believe him yet. He could just be masking his dislike for Revan while they were all working together towards a common goal. Right now, the only thing that mattered was removing Snow; it was easy enough to put aside any feelings they had about each other when everyone hated her more.

But what would become of Revan once she was dead and gone?

"Huh," Revan said, caught off guard. "Well, whatever. Do you have anything else important to say to me, or can I go now?" Revan sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingers. "No offence, but I haven't had enough to drink tonight to deal with shit like this."

"I mean, I just wanted to tell you that if you ever needed anything, I'm here okay? We're in this together, and just because you're younger than the rest of us doesn't mean you're not as capable," Omega said, reassuringly. "I don't really- well, I don't know how much any support I can give will help you, but I really am sorry about your brother."

"What did I say about my brother? Don't talk to me about him." Revan snapped, spinning to face the older man. "Why can't you just leave me alone?"

"I'm sorry, I'm just trying to help," Omega replied softly, holding his hands up. "I can leave now, if you want but… I'm here for you Revan, if you need anyth-."

"Just leave."

Omega nodded, but Revan was already turning towards the balcony doors, not waiting around for a response. Revan pushed them with more than enough force, the glass panes in the door rattling as they swung open. Quickly closing the distance between himself and the railing, Revan lit a cigarette, mindlessly inhaling as he looked over the mansion's gardens. They appeared stuck in time, the same as they had years ago when Snow had dragged him into all of this, when Revan was just a kid in way over his head. For everything he'd done, for all the progress it felt like he'd made, for all the blood on his hands there was no question of it: Revan was still that kid. And no matter how much he wanted to avoid it, to convince himself otherwise there was no question about it.

Despite how far he'd come, Revan Allerix was nothing but an angry, pathetic kid with nowhere to run.

The door creaked slightly, as Revan sighed, real smoke intertwining with his mask of smoke. "What now?"

A woman in a black blazer and pencil skirt, evidently a servant of some kind, came up next to him. "The president has requested an audience with you. If you don't mind coming with me."

"Do I have to?" Revan snorted.

"Well, it is the President, Mr. Allerix, so it's not exactly a request," the girl affirmed.

"Revan is fine."

"Please follow me then, Revan." The servant stepped off of the balcony, waiting just inside the door for the Victor to follow.

Revan dropped the cigarette on the ground and crushed it beneath the heel of his shoe. Once he was sure it was out, he stuck his hands in his pockets and trailed after the girl. All Revan wanted was for it to be over now. He just wanted to go home to Five and sleep for a week and not have to talk to the President, but that wasn't possible. He'd just have to tough it out until he could slip away again, but slipping away was hard when there was always somebody watching you.

The servant girl guided Revan to a corridor that led to the President's balcony, which overlooked the ballroom. "Here."

"Thank you… what's your name?"

"Theresa," the girl replied, smiling gently.

"Well, thank you, Theresa," Revan repeated with a grin, dropping her a wink. Although he didn't particularly feel like keeping up the charade of normalcy, it was a part of his life now, whether he liked it or not.

As he moved towards the balcony, one of the guards flanking its entrance stepped forward, holding a hand out to stop him. "What's your business here?"

"Revan Allerix, Victor. I'm here for an audience with the president." Revan lifted his mask so they could see his face in full. "If you want to stop me, go ahead; you're more than welcome to."

The other guard pushed his partner's arm down. "Go ahead."

Revan let his mask snap back to his face as he passed the guards, making his way towards the front of the balcony. It was a spacious balcony, with enough room for Snow and her entire family, as well as Northcroft himself, flanked by more guards. It seemed they were on high alert after the attack on the prison, which was not a surprise to Revan. Omega had expected it too, vetoing any plans the rebels concocted involving any attacks at or during the party. There were too many people that could get in the way, and here in the heart of the Capitol, it wasn't likely they'd be able to pull anything off without being hunted down by a legion of Peacekeepers. Revan understood Omega's decision, but he was getting really fucking tired of pateintly waiting for something to happen.

If Omega really cared about Revan, he'd pick up the pace. Revan didn't know how much longer he could wait.

"Allerix, I'm glad you came. I didn't expect you to come along so easily." Snow smiled politely as Revan came to stand next to the chair she sat on, looking over the balcony. The woman was decked out in an impressive black and white dress, threaded fibers of gold woven into her platinum hair. Her mask of spiked gold like a crown from the old days, framing her face. She looked just as Revan remembered her; it was like she never aged, eternal in her reign over Panem just like she wanted to be.

"Well, I wasn't planning on it, but I didn't want to give the girl you sent for me a hard time," Revan replied with a sigh.

"I see. Care for a dance while we chat?" Snow said, standing. She towered over him, just as she had four years before. It only added to her larger than life presence, although Revan wasn't afraid of her anymore. She couldn't control him now. All she could do was take his life, and what was that worth in the end? Nothing, if it meant taking her down with him.

At least that's what he told himself.

"If I have no other choice, yes, but if I don't have to, then fuck no."

"Be courteous, that's the president you're talking to," Northcroft muttered from his seat nearby.

"Shut it, Northcroft," Revan snapped.

"I am the president - not to mention your direct supervisor - and you will listen to me, whether you like it or not," Snow snapped. "We're leaving now, before you teach my children any new words they shouldn't know."

Revan glanced down at Snow's two sons, Aidan and Adrian, who were running around the balcony, decked out in their own little suits and masks that matched their mother's. "Fine," he grumbled. Revan reluctantly placed his hand in Snow's outstretched one, and the two made their way down the stairs to the dance floor.

"I'm sorry to hear about your brother," Snow murmured as they descended the stairs. Any of the other party guests lingering on them cleared out of the way as soon as they saw who was coming, many of them bowing their heads respectfully as they passed.

"I don't care. You're the last person I want condolences from. We both know you don't mean anything you say about him," Revan growled. The only thought that ran through his mind was how callous she was, how much she truly didn't care about any of them. He should've come to expect it after years of working with the woman that never bothered to make her words sting any less.

Especially not when it came to Caller.

"You need to learn your place, Allerix, before I put you in it myself. Don't think I won't," Snow hissed, words dripping with malice as she gripped his arm tightly.

As they moved off the stairs to the floor, the music stopped for a moment, then transitioned into a slower song. A number of pairs emerged from the crowd; Revan even spotted a number of tributes scattered across the dance floor alongside sponsors and other high-calibre Capitolites. He noticed the boys from One and Four together dancing awkwardly, as well as Reign with his district partner, which was perhaps even more awkward. He couldn't see Pluto, although if Revan knew Pluto, he'd soon enough make his presence known in some way. The boy's existence, although tiring, was still comforting, and Revan could use any miniscule amount of comfort he could possibly find in that moment.

"Do you know how to dance?" Snow asked, brushing off his words as if they were nothing- as if Caller was nothing.

"No? What would ever give you that idea?" Revan replied, raising an eyebrow beneath his mask.

"Well, I thought maybe they'd have taught you some etiquette at some point over the past four years, but apparently I was wrong."

"I'm from downtown Five, whatever makes you think I learned how to dance? And no, they didn't, although I can shoot and kill a man from a mile away with a rifle, if you're interested in that," Revan laughed bitterly.

"Not at the moment, but I'm sure I can find something for you later if you're so desperate. Just give me your hands," Snow said, taking his hands in hers, placing one of his hands on her waist. "Put one here, and I'll hold onto your other one."

"Ma'am, at least take me out on a date first," Revan sighed. Snow glared daggers at him as she began to dance in simple circles, dragging Revan along with her.

"So, did you have anything to do with what happened to your brother?" Snow asked, half whispering in his ear over the gentle violin music.

"You- you really think I would have something to do with his death?" Revan snapped. "The only reason I'm here is because I wanted to keep him alive, and now he's dead because of you and your inability to keep him safe! It's not my fault you failed as a President!"

Revan saw the indignation flash across Snow's face. "Maybe it is my fault, but I figured I'd inquire anyway."

"Whatever. So, am I here to dance with you, or talk, hm?"

"Well I thought you might be… interested in helping me," Snow asked.

"Help you? Really?" Revan snorted. "You genuinely think I'm that fucking stupid?"

"Let me finish. I thought you might be interested in helping me find who killed your brother," Snow retorted. "And I think I might just have a lead on who did it."

"The rebels?"

"Well, yes, but I think Northcroft might be involved."

Revan nearly tripped at that, barely managing to catch himself as Snow continued to lead him in circles. Somehow, despite all of their covert planning, she was dead on when it came to Northcroft; clearly, Snow knew more than she was letting on. Revan had to think quickly. Sure, he hated Northcroft deeply for benching him that night, but he hated Snow a thousand times more- he couldn't afford to give his allies' plan away.

He'd sworn to kill her, and Revan was planning to make good on that promise. For himself. For his brother.

"I highly doubt he's stupid enough to go against you," Revan said, as casually as he could manage.

The President's hands ensnared Revan in a vice-like grip. Revan did his best to keep his face as neutral as possible, but he was quickly realizing just how in over his head he was, how bad this could go if he made even a single mistake.

"You know that isn't true," Snow growled, her voice going cold. "And just because your brother is gone doesn't mean there aren't other people I can hurt."

With that, Snow lifted a finger, pointing towards the tall ginger boy who'd stumbled into the room, and Revan felt his heart sink.

"What about him, hmm? He'd be easy enough, going into the Games and all," Snow grinned.

"He's already going into the Games. What more could you do to him?" Revan retorted, voice wavering ever so slightly no matter how hard he tried to block the weakness out.

"You should know by now that I can make things work in my favour if I try hard enough."

Revan had never felt closer to snapping in his life. "If you ever. Ever, harm him I won't hesitate to-"

"Hesitate to what?" Snow laughed as if she was entertained, causing Revan to grit his teeth. "Are you threatening the President?"

"You threatened Pluto first," Revan growled.

"Victor or not, if you push me far enough, I will crush you and everything you've ever loved."

"You've ruined my life enough. Why can't you leave it at that? Ruin me, destroy my life, whatever the hell you want, just leave him alone."

"I will consider it. But you'd be best off considering my offer as well." Snow smiled slyly as the song came to an end. "I'm sure I'll see you around."

With that, Snow released him, turning and walking away into the crowds, leaving Revan stunned where he stood. She could threaten him, take away his livelihood, but Pluto was innocent- he didn't deserve to be dragged into these things.

"Revan, you alright?" a familiar voice said, a heavy hand landing on his shoulder. Revan turned, looking up to the grinning face of Pluto Valence himself.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Revan sighed, as Pluto grabbed a glass of champagne from one of the servers nearby. Revan reached out, swiping the glass away from the taller boy before he could take a sip.

"Hey!" Pluto exclaimed, grabbing for the glass, nearly sending both of them to the ground. "That's mine!"

"That's what you get," Revan replied with a weary smile, leaning into Pluto's side. Pluto leaned back, the side of his jaw resting against Revan's head.

"I guess," Pluto pouted, wrapping his arm around Revan's shoulders. "Hey, what if we went and danced!"

"Why not," Revan said, and he couldn't help but let himself laugh as Pluto pulled him onto the dance floor once again.

Tonight had been a nightmare for Revan, and he suspected many more would come. Sure, there were moments of happiness, but that did nothing for the dark clouds that hung around him.

Revan wasn't sure if he would ever see them clear away.


Verity Blanche, 18.
District 6 Female.


If there was one thing that Verity enjoyed more than anything in the world, it was a good party. Their chaotic nature always seemed to lead to the wildest of circumstances; in fact, she'd met Charlotte at a party, sparking one of the best relationships in her life. This party, however, was much more formal than the anarchic romps she was used to back in Six. But Verity was looking forward to having as much fun as possible, desperate to squeeze a few final drops of joy out of her stay in the Capitol before being launched into the Games.

And if there was one thing Verity was good at, it was having fun.

"Would you like a glass of champagne, miss?" one of the servers asked as he drifted past her.

"Absolutely!" Verity replied, snatching a glass from the platter he offered. "Thank you!" She downed it quickly and put it back onto his platter, then launched herself into the crowd. There were what felt like hundreds of people around, everyone decked out in their nicest clothing. The more she looked into the crowd, the more people she recognized; Victors and TV personalities and other dignitaries from all different areas of public life all conversed with each other. She had to admit that it was pretty cool to find so many people that she'd watched on TV growing up, whether watching the Games with her family or the worst of Capitolite television with Gideon late into the nights, all in one place.

As famous as the guests were, and as important as the night was, the extravagant fashions of the Capitolites made the atmosphere feel far less stuffy than the parties her father often brought her to. One lady across the room from her was dressed similarly to a bird, with garishly neon feathers that hurt Verity's eyes sprouting from every part of her body. The whole scene was like something out of a novel, a world of colour and vibrancy that she could hardly fathom.

Verity could not wait to explore it.

"Good evening!" one woman waved to her as she passed. "I adore your outfit!"

Verity looked down at her flowing blue pantsuit with a smile. "Thank you! My stylist did a wonderful job, didn't she?"

"Absolutely!" the woman exclaimed, offering Verity a gloved hand. "My name is Kleio. You're from Six aren't you? Verity?"

"Yes, ma'am, that's me," Verity grinned, grabbing another glass of champagne off the tray of a server who passed through.

"Wonderful! My husband thought you and your partner were so fascinating," Kleio laughed. "Especially that boy, he's so… interesting looking."

"He certainly is," Verity nodded politely. "He's wonderful, though, don't let his exterior scare you."

"Of course not, of course not. But where is he? I figured you two would be together?" Kleio asked, looking around the crowd. "No offence, of course."

"Oh, um, I don't know," Verity said, turning to scan the crowd around her. She hadn't seen Diesel since he'd disappeared, muttering about finding himself something non-alcoholic to drink, and that had been more than twenty minutes ago now. She'd just been so wrapped up in everything going on that she'd barely noticed his quiet absence.

"Well, good luck finding your friend!" Kleio smiled. "Myself and my husband will be supporting you both!"

"Thank you!" Verity said, repeating herself for what felt like the thousandth time. Her parents had raised her to have manners, though, and if these were the people that'd be helping her and Diesel, she should certainly try and be nice to them.

Pushing through the crowd again, this time with intent, Verity couldn't see Diesel anywhere as she made a wide loop around the room. She noticed that a door in the large, curved wall of the ballroom was open, letting in a gentle breeze which caused the curtains draped on either side to dance almost as if they were following along with the music. Just outside those doors was a tall, gangly figure- Diesel, likely. Verity beelined for the doors, stepping out into the quiet summer evening as quietly as she could manage. She crept up behind the figure and, just as she got within reach of Diesel, tapped him on the shoulder.

"What!" Diesel yelped, loudly jumping as he turned around to face her, his light pink jacket falling off of his shoulders. "You scared me!"

Verity laughed, covering her mouth with her hand. "I was wondering where you went."

"I'm sorry if I worried you," Diesel sighed, leaning against the railing again. "There's just… well, um, too many people inside."

"It's okay, there's no need to apologize. I'm sorry for startling you," Verity replied, patting Diesel on the back as she joined him against the railing. They stood in silence for a few moments, listening to the gentle notes of orchestra music drifting through the air from inside.

"Is everything okay?" Verity asked, gently. "I mean, other than the Games."

"Not really. I screwed up my private session and now-" Diesel sighed. "Well now everyone wants to ask me about it and… I just don't know what to say."

"Well, that's certainly tricky," Verity replied. "But scores and private sessions don't determine everything that will happen in the Games, right?"

"I guess. But still, it doesn't- it just doesn't seem good," Diesel said, his voice wavering ever so slightly. "I just… I want things to be okay, and they're not, and I don't know how to fix it."

"Diesel, you don't need to fix it, you just need to do your best. We just gotta focus on surviving, first and foremost," Verity murmured, taking Diesel's hand in her own. "There won't be any time for fixing if we can't survive, right?"

"Right," Diesel echoed. "Right, you're right."

"Good! Now, how about going back inside for a bit? We gotta at least pretend we're doing what we're supposed to be doing," Verity smiled. "Or we could stay out here, a few minutes longer."

"A few minutes longer, if you wouldn't mind," Diesel muttered, squeezing her hand. Verity nodded, standing up on her tiptoes to press a kiss to his cheek.

"For good luck," Verity said, as she pulled back, watching Diesel flush bright red. She reached her hand up and softly wiped the traces of dark lipstick off his face. "I won't let anybody interrogate you about your score or anything like that." Diesel laughed, pressing his hand against hers, trapping it against his face cracking the widest smile Verity had seen from him yet.

"Thank you," Diesel laughed. "Let's go inside?"

"Let's!" Verity exclaimed, looping her arm in Diesels and pulling him back into the party.

Maybe Diesel would be the balance to the horrors of the Games. Verity just hoped he could hold on to whatever hope he may have left.


Pluto Valence, 18.
District 5 Male.


Pluto sunk into the plush couch with a sigh, pulling the loose, half-tied tie off from around his neck. Everything spun a little as he focused on the wall across from him, but Pluto didn't mind one bit. He was happy to have one more night of careless fun before all hell broke loose.

For just this night, everything felt okay. Pluto couldn't ask for much more.

"Well," Revan chuckled, sinking into the couch next to him. "That felt like a bad idea. I'm gonna get chewed out for it tomorrow."

"Plenty of things feel like a bad idea," Pluto replied. "But, this wasn't such a bad idea. I'm having fun, right? That's the whole point!"

"It is, but I don't think either of us were supposed to drink this much," Revan mused. "I mean. I didn't even drink that much."

"Lightweight."

"Absolutely not!" Revan exclaimed, elbowing Pluto in the ribs. He barely felt it, but Pluto doubted it would've hurt anyways. Pluto had quickly figured out that Revan Allerix wasn't quite as tough as he made himself out to be.

"It's true! I know one when I… when I see one!" Pluto insisted, eliciting another laugh out of Revan.

"You're gonna regret this tomorrow- do you even have a plan for the Games? Anything at all?" Revan replied. "I mean, it's not like you need one, but still."

"Absolutely not," Pluto said, shaking his head. "I mean, what if I do regret it? I won't because I had a good time tonight. Besides that, you're so… serious. Just relax for a bit."

"I am relaxing. As much as I can, at least."

"I call bullshit."

"Really! I am!" Revan insisted. "You know, you worry me sometimes."

"I can't blame you," Pluto sighed. His mind drifted to his parents back home; while they never had much time for him, he knew that they worried about him quite a lot. Pluto couldn't help but worry right back as he thought about how they were doing now. Were they just as concerned as they had always been? If Revan was concerned about Pluto, which presumably he was, as Revan was Pluto's mentor, Pluto could only imagine how worried his parents might be.

The more he thought about it, the more surprised he was that Revan was concerned for him. Back in Five, Revan wasn't exactly the most popular figure due to his less than inviting demeanour and even pricklier personality. But Pluto felt safe with Revan watching over him. It was a small comfort to know that, once he went into the Arena, his only lifeline to the outside world truly cared about him.

"What's it like to be in the Arena?" Pluto asked, after a few moments of silence. "If you don't mind uh sharing? I've always been curious about it though."

Revan paused for a moment, fiddling with his mask and pulling it off before replying. "It's… different. Other worldly almost? It feels like nothing past it exists even if you know that's not true."

"Well that makes sense, it's kinda like an island I guess," Pluto nodded, pulling his own mask off.

"I had an ally, too," Revan continued. "He was my first friend my age."

Even Pluto was smart enough to put two and two together. He knew what happened to that friend- what would likely happen to his friends too. Only one could come out of that Arena, one person all on their own without any of the people they would've liked to bring out with them.

"I'm sorry," Pluto said softly, wrapping his arm around Revan's shoulders and pulling him in for a halfway hug.

"It's okay," Revan replied, voice muffled as he pressed his face into Pluto's side.

"I don't really know how to put this, but loss is kinda… weird I guess," Pluto mumbled. "But, I mean, I lost a- not a friend, more myself. That sounds bad when I put it like that though."

"Yourself?"

"Yeah, I mean," Pluto trailed off, blinking a few times. "Well when I lost my arm, at work right? It felt like a piece of me was missing which… it is, but it's still odd? I just didn't feel like myself for a long time."

Revan pulled back, blinking a few times at Pluto as he stared for a moment before speaking, softly. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay," Pluto replied. "It happens sometimes, and it sucks but… It's like we're all these weird little pieces of old people right? But now we're different, whole people still despite that."

Revan nodded, eyebrows knitting together. "Yeah, that makes sense. Um… well we should get going?"

"Yeah, I guess?" Pluto shrugged. "I don't know what time it is."

"Me neither. I don't care either," Revan sighed. "But uh… well we do need to go since you have to be up tomorrow."

Pluto chuckled, pushing himself to his feet, the couch creaking as he did. "Don't remind me."

"Oh. Sorry."

"No worries! It seems pretty scary in there," Pluto exclaimed, "But I'll do my best."

"Don't say that, it sounds too much like a promise," Revan replied softly.

Suddenly, Revan stood and quickly closed the gap between the two, wrapping his arms tightly around Pluto's middle in what was probably his best approximation of a hug. It wasn't what the Five boy was expecting, nearly causing him to trip over his own feet despite being locked in a hug, but Pluto didn't mind. He wrapped his arm around Revan's shoulders, squeezing tightly. But Revan seemed so fragile in this state that Pluto loosened his grip slightly; he didn't want to squeeze so hard that he snapped his mentor in two.

"Well then I promise!" Pluto murmured.

"You can't do that," Revan sighed, voice muffled. "I believe in you, if that means anything, but really there's no need to promise."

"It does."

"Now we really need to get going," Revan sighed, pulling back from the hug. Pluto could've sworn he saw the mentor wiping tears away, but he chose not to comment, instead turning away to put his mask back on. "Okay! Lead the way!"

Revan nodded, making his way towards the door, Pluto following a few steps behind. He nearly tripped over the coffee table as he passed, Revan catching him by the arm before he could fall.

"I've gotcha," Revan laughed, and Pluto believed him entirely- he'd watch over Pluto in the Arena, he was sure of it.

They began making their way from the room, winding through the halls of the mansion. Pluto had no concept of where they were going, especially considering that he barely remembered how they got there in the first place. But Revan seemed to know exactly where they were at all times, as he led them through without any issue, never letting go of his sure and solid grip on Pluto's arm. They eventually emerged into the main ballroom again, though it was far emptier now; many of the guests had already left, leaving mostly mentors and tributes milling about the space. A few of the people were still dancing; Pluto spotted the vibrantly dressed girl from Six in the small crowd, her arms wrapped tightly around her District partner. The room was lively still, but quieter than before, which Pluto was grateful for, as he could feel the rapid onset of a nasty headache.

Pluto took a deep breath as he sat at a table on the side of the room. Capitolite parties were very different from District Five parties,, but it was still a fun experience, especially the time he got to spend with Revan. Pluto never thought he'd find somebody he could really talk to about his past, and it felt odd sharing with Revan of all people.

But sometimes, allies- friends were found in the most unlikely of places, and Pluto was certainly not complaining. He was just glad to have somebody he could rely on in his corner.