A/N: Today we have the last Pre-Games alliance to explore: Girls Meet World! This crew is compiled of Gaia Imani from Eight, Carmen Ionique-Astron from Twelve, Sage Alumius from Nine, and Bernie Areli from Five! We'll be seeing how the mostly-scorned-by-their-peers alliance interacts with one another and how they're all dealing with the stresses of the upcoming Games. Enjoy, and I'm sorry for the wait. I've become addicted to a new project of mine called Paradise, but I want to get BMO done for all of you, so I'm working on it instead. Summer is here, and while I still have a lot to do, I will have more writing time too!

I DID IT IN LESS THAN A MONTH THIS TIME! one day less...but still less than a month...oh I promise I'll get more out faster xD

Trigger warnings: Profanity and sexual innuendo

{Gaia's song is "Coachella Woodstock In My Mind" by Lana Del Rey, Bernie's song is "Sweet Nothing" by Florence Welch & Calvin Harris, Sage's song is "Good Mourning" by Halsey, and Carmen's song is "Coming Down" by Halsey as well}

'Cause what about all these children

And what about all their parents

And what about about all their crowns they wear

In hair so long like mine

And what about all their wishes

Wrapped up like garland roses

Round their little heads

I said a prayer for a third time

Gaia Imani, 15

District Eight Female

In the dream, I am floating a couple of feet above the ground. The snow glitters icily as I hover above it. Fuzzy silhouettes float around me, barely visible through the thick clouds of gusting snow that have been whipped up from the ground. Distorted numbers slam into my ears, ringing and buzzing and clattering like dishes and pans being cleaned in the school cafeteria's kitchen. I hear witch cackles and whirring sirens, and once the disjointed number one furrows into my ears, I'm falling to the ground. The ice crunches beneath my knees, the sharp crystals cutting through the thin cloth of my pajama pants and stabbing into my knees. Blood flows freely around me, and as I try to stand, the ice anchors me to the ground. Instead of cackles and sirens, I now hear screams and maniacal laughing. I watch a girl (at least I think it's a girl, based on her high pitched shriek) soar through the air like an angel, blood flying around her head like a halo as her five inch deep laceration takes her life faster than I can scream, "HELP ME!" Soon the bodies are piling up around me, and they have faces now, too many faces that I recognize, be it Mel the shift supervisor or my mother or Bobbin or my allies or even Woof and Uriah. And then I'm just laying there, loud pounding filling my ears, on a bed, panting and staring at a ceiling.

I'm awake. Of course. Just a dream, I knew that anyway. Usually I'm a lucid dreamer actually, but I lost control there for some reason. I would've just made the scene Bobbin and myself hovering through a little cutesy park in the winter and then building a snowman and having a snowball fight. The nice idea cements itself in my head, wiping away the terrifying nightmare and putting a small smile on my face as I prepare for the day.

As I'm pulling my top over my head, I hear a knock on the door. I quickly shrug on the shirt all of the way and then jog over to the door. I open it to see Woof standing there, looking a little concerned.

"Are you alright? I heard the kicking and moaning, and I've been knocking for a long time, even after the sounds stopped. An Avox assured me that the security camera footage showed that you were just having a nightmare, but I wanted to make sure my charge was doing fine."

"Oh, well, thanks," I murmur, blushing a little. I can't help it; I sometimes get bashful around people of the opposite gender, and no one can deny that Woof Parsons is rather attractive for a man from Eight. I'm not thinking about him in that way, though. It's just a natural instinct.

"Come on, let's eat breakfast. I see you're all made up, you're right on time then." We walk over to the table, where the rest of the team is sitting. Uriah's forehead is creased in some negative emotion as it perpetually is, Calico is swirling food around his plate with a bored look on his face, and Alexandrius is informing an Avox that all of the sausages have been minimally burned on the bottoms and that he absolutely refuses to eat them in the shape that they're in. Woof, to spite our uppity Escort, grabs two of the barely burnt sausages off of the tray as the Avox walks past. He bites into one and comments on the great taste before handing the other to me, grinning. I suppress a giggle and swallow the whole thing in one bite, rubbing my stomach dramatically and groaning, "How scrumptious." Woof and I both sit down, laughing loudly as we fill our plates. All three other denizens of the table glare at us in unison. The synchronization is almost hilarious.

"Thick as thieves," Uriah grumbles, and then he shoots a strange look at Woof, and shakes his head lightly. Woof ignores the move, spearing a piece of fruit with his fork and biting into it.

Soon enough we've all eaten our morning meal, and then Calico and I are walking over the elevator to ride down for our final training session. Woof calmly reminds us that it's only a half day of training, then lunch, and then Private Sessions. After he's done, Uriah grunts about "not fucking up too much" at Private Sessions. I look at him, rather appalled, as the elevator doors snap shut. Calico's just laughing uproariously at the profanity, and I just roll my eyes at him. Luckily, he misses the action, or else he'd probably have gotten all up in arms and started off on another one of his snappy rants.

Before I know it, I'm back in the training center for the third time. Calico totters off to some station to start criticizing the trainer's hair if I can read his lips well enough. Meanwhile, I'm just standing near the entrance, watching as people enter. Calico and I are some of the first people down, and I don't see any of my three allies.

As I'm starting to finally get impatient, a minute after training has officially started, Sage and her District partner lope into the room, both panting quietly from the run down the hall to the center. Sage tells me about their training outfits getting shrunken in the wash and having to wait for new ones, and I laugh at the thought of Sage waddling into training with a belly shirt and shorts intended to be pants.

"I'm guessing that Bernie and Carmen aren't coming down again?" I insert two minutes later when there's still no sign of our other allies. Disappointment clearly tinges my voice.

"Correctamungo," Sage sighs, and we both then walk off to find a station to work at. We split up yesterday, and we've spent a whole lot of time at survival skills. While they're very essential, especially for "tributes of our caliber" as Woof would phrase it (or "tributes of our shitty weakness" as Uriah would phrase it), we also do need to know some weaponry. If I'm not mistaken, we probably will need to do some killing if we are to make it far in the Games. So we decide to go to the easiest-to-learn and most common weapon of all time in the Hunger Games: daggers.

All those Outlier boys and girls on the television make it look so easy when they nonchalantly plunge a dagger into another's forehead or throat or back without any prior experience. While they're an easier weapon, Sage and I are both fumbling around uselessly for a good twenty minutes before either of us remotely get a hang of the motions we have to do to properly utilize the dagger.

"Guess we're not going to be the killing type," Sage chortles as we walk away from the station an hour later.

"Tell me about it."

So I put my faith in something unknown

I'm living on such sweet nothing

But I'm tired of hope with nothing to hold

I'm living on such sweet nothing

And it's hard to learn

And it's hard to love

When you're giving me such sweet nothing

Sweet nothing, sweet nothing

You're giving me such sweet nothing

Bernie Areli, 12

District Five Female

The freedom that's been granted on me here is staggering. Sure, I'm locked up in a huge building, awaiting my slaughter, but besides that, I have free roam of nearly every corridor. I can do whatever the heck I want, mainly because people pity me. I'm utilizing that fact to my advantage, exploring every inch of space, trying exotic foods, and having the time of my life. I even skipped breakfast entirely and left the District Five apartment before anyone else was up, only leaving a note telling them that I hadn't been kidnapped. I don't want to have to deal with the mess that is my stupid Mentor, and no one else really even cares about me in that apartment anyway. So I've come up to the Fun Floors to wait for my new best friend.

My foot taps impatiently against the floor as I sit on a huge throne inside the restaurant where Carmen said she'd meet me after we parted ways yesterday. The Avox server hands me my second chocolate banana milkshake, and I suck it all down in a few minutes. Still no Carmen. I have a minor bout of brain freeze after the last couple of long sips, and I rub my forehead to assuage the strange cold burn. Once it fades, I stand and march out of the establishment, looking around the area for Carmen. No sign of her. I sigh dejectedly and start perusing the other things on this floor, wondering if Carmen got hung up at any of them.

After an hour's survey of the area, I can confirm that Carmen is not and will not be in any of these places. They're a little too childish for the mature, motherly woman whom I've come to adore. She makes all of us feel so comfortable, and while she might be a liability with her pregnancy that's nearing its completion, her emotional stability and caring personality help knit our hodge podge group together, and she's sorely needed.

Yesterday, we spent the whole day up here, having the time of ours lives as we stuffed ourselves to the limit with sugary foods, rode rides, played games, and saw exotic attractions. It was one of the best days of my life, only tarnished by the fight with Anneliese that night. She said that we'd go at it again and meet up by the place I was drinking the milkshakes at, but it's more than an hour into our final five hour "training" session, and she can't miss any more, and it'll be no fun doing all of these things alone. So I decide to go check the District Twelve floor to see if she's still there.

Surprisingly, the doors snap open once I get to the floor. I would have expected you to have some sort of identification pass or something to make it onto another District's floor. I could go murder all of the Careers in their sleep! That would make things way easier. I snicker at the idea as I step into the flat, looking around. There are only two people visible: Twelve's Mentor and Escort. I'm not sure of the Mentor's name. She's relatively new. I think it start with an E...Endymiona? No, that was District Seven's old stylist. Besides the Mentor is the famous Edna Trinket, who's worked as Twelve's Escort since the literal beginning. They're both hunched over the dining room table, sifting through their meager pile of sponsor forms and doing calculations. They both look up abruptly when they hear the elevator open.

"Are you lost honey?" the Mentor asks kindly, standing up and walking across the room to meet me. "I'm Eris."

"Hi. I'm not lost, I was looking for Carmen," I reply, looking at my shoes.

"Oh! Are you Bernie?" Eris inquires. "Carmen's been talking about all of you girls at dinner like you're her daughters!" She giggles, and she reminds me somewhat of Anneliese, which just makes my blood boil. I rush to the point, not wanting to waste anymore time chit chatting.

"So is Carmen here?" I ask slowly, making sure my annoyance doesn't seep into my tone.

"No, she decided to go into the training center today," Eris murmurs. "She wanted to ask the physician some questions about her baby."

"Oh," is the only syllable I can muster. "I'll be leaving, then."

"Toodles, honey!" Edna shouts from the table, while Eris waves shyly. I suppress the urge to sigh as I step into the elevator. I slump against the smooth metal wall next to the panel of floor buttons. I reach out and tap the D5 button. It lights up reddish orange, our District's primary color, and then the elevator whooshes down towards my District's flat. I have nothing better to do; it's lonely roaming the Fun Floors alone, and there's no way that I'll go back down to the training center again. It's bleak and boring and full of soon-to-be killers. The only laughter are hollow chuckles from allies trying to make their barely-acquaintanced partners comfortable so they'll become those who would risk their life on the Bloodbath field for their ally. It's somber and organized, and I suddenly have a knack for being a non conformist. All I want to do is curl up in my bed, drink exactly seventeen root beer floats, and shut out the world except for the Avox who will deliver my meals.

The only person in the flat when I get there are the quartet of Avoxes who work the area. I recall Ambrosia saying that she had to go to a fashion show her sister was modeling in during the late morning/early afternoon, and Anneliese is locked up in her room. I can hear her knitting needles clacking away furiously. I ignore her door, trudging over to the dining table. I sit down and grab an apple from the silvery bowl in the center, taking a careful bite. It makes my teeth ache a little, and I set the fruit down. My eyes drift over to some little machine that's sitting on the table. I pick it up, and my fingers accidentally press a power button on the bottom.

"Hello, my name is Cinta," the machine says in a fluid female voice that sounds definitively human, and not mechanical in any way. "Ask me any question, Miss Petrova. I have the answer!"

So this is Anneliese's machine. Not only will I ask it some ridiculous questions to anger her and amuse myself, but it might also be a useful tool to ask questions with more...hidden answers, if you get my meaning. But first, I gotta have some fun! I stream through questions, both funny and hilarious, and listen to her answers.

"Cinta, are you a virgin?" I inquire, stifling laughter.

"Of course. Machines do not have vaginas or phalli for effective sexual intercourse," Cinta replies calmly, and I'm laughing raucously. Once I quiet down, I no longer hear the clacking of Anneliese's needles. She's cleaning up, and I have very little time to ask my last question, a serious one.

"Cinta, do you know anything about Gladys Areli or Simon Areli?" I whisper hurriedly. It stings a little to speak my parent's names.

"Producing a holo file. Once copy is finished, you may transport file throughout the area and leave me where I am. Once you are done with the holo, hit the x button in the upper right hand corner, and the holo will dissolve."

I quickly tug the file through the air after the copy is complete. I tell Cinta to shut down before rushing into my room and easing door closed behind me before Anneliese comes out. My room's dark, and I keep it that way as I flop onto the bed, the holo file floating above my face and painting myself and the area around me in an ethereal light blue glow. I'm staring into the eyes of my parents, two separate pictures. They're both dressed as Avoxes.

"Simon Areli. Avox 6789, currently employed by Belladonna Metsungs," I murmur. "Gladys Areli. Avox 6790, currently employed by...by..."

I can't make myself say the words "the Hunger Games Fun Floors staff." My mother is here, in this building. Screw it that Carmen's not here. I'm on a quest, a quest to find my mother.

I've got a lover

A love like religion

I'm such a fool for sacrifice

It's coming down, down, coming down

It's coming down, down, coming down

I've got a lover

And I'm unforgiven

I'm such a fool to pay this price

It's coming down, down, coming down

It's coming down, down, coming down

Carmen Ionique-Astron, 17

District Twelve Female

I wait outside the small door into the Games physician's office, tapping my foot against the slick tile. The Six girl is apparently in there right now, and I have to wait my turn to go in. My hand automatically moves to my stomach, where I trace letters on the large baby bump through the stretchy fabric of the uniform's shirt. Filippo and Florence. The names Aris and I picked out for this child. The memories all swell into the front of my mind, and I pick out the happy ones. I fondly remember the birth of all of my other children, of Aris and I's wedding, of the day I laid my eyes on my future husband, singing on the street with a stomach that hadn't gotten any morsel of food inside it in over a week. The more bitter memories start to seep in, but before I can become immersed, the door squeals open. The Six girl wanders out, looking more than a little dazed. The physician, a tall, balding man, invites me in.

"Hello, my name is Dr. Endell," the man says, extending his smooth hand. It's cold when I shake it. "Please come in, and have a seat on the table."

I shuffle into the room. It's not as cramped and small as I imagined. A nurse works in the back of the room, analyzing some blood samples from someone or another. She spots us and pulls a curtain closed, separating her half of the room from ours. The examination half of the room has a few nice cabinets, a counter with a sink, a desk with a fancy computer mounted on it, and a table-seat thing that they have in doctor's offices. Dr. Endell sits down at the desk as I lay down on the exam table. He swivels in his spinny office chair, smiling at me as he folds his hands in his lap.

"You can sit up if you want, Mrs. Ionique-Astron," Dr. Endell tells me. I hurriedly sit up.

"I'm sorry, the only time I've seen a doctor's office is in a picture book," I laugh hollowly.

"You had all those children without going to the hospital?" Dr. Endell mutters in disbelief as he looks over my hastily compiled medical file that the Capitol probably put together after I was Reaped.

"Twelve's the only District without a true hospital. We just have midwives and apothecaries. A good friend of mine is a male midwife, a midhusband if you will, so I've gotten along alright along with a good dose of luck and all of that, I guess."

"Very lucky," Dr. Endell murmurs. "So, I'm guessing you're here about the baby?"

"Yeah," I whisper. "So, can we do an ultrasound? Or should we go straight for the induced labor? I'm just not sure how this all works."

Dr. Endell looks at me with his brow knitted. "Your...your Mentor didn't tell you? Not your Escort or your Stylist? Not even...dear Snow."

"Tell me what?" I ask, my voice growing higher as a strange wash of nerves rushes over me. What didn't they tell me? The fear is all encompassing, and I feel every nerve ending in my body fluttering and sparking as Dr. Endell's mouth moves soundlessly as he tries to form words.

"Oh shit, Carmen. We can't help you have the baby," Dr. Endell sighs, looking at his shoes.

The silence that permeates the room is nearly painful as I stare into Dr. Endell's pitying green eyes. My brain takes forever to process his words, and when they finally all fall into place, I'm slightly confused, but more worried and utterly terrified.

"What...what...what the actual fuck? I have no clue what you mean," I huff.

"It's in one of the amendments to the Games Bill. No one is allowed to help a pregnant tribute give birth to a tribute. We can move you and make you comfortable, but we cannot assist in the birth itself at all. So you have to do it naturally, all on your own."

"But...Cape told me that my body's fragile, that without his help or someone else's help, that my body might not...be able to take the birth."

"I can see that from your file. I want to help you, I really do. But to even give you an ultrasound would be committing treason, which can mean execution or life in prison, Carmen. I'm so, so sorry, but I have a family of my own. I can't risk my life to help you, darling."

"Will...if I die...will they help the baby?"

"Of course. Once the baby is born, we can retrieve it and help it and all and make sure it's healthy. We just cannot assist you, even after the birth."

"Will the baby go back to Twelve?" I question weakly. I feel something wet splash onto my hands, and I realize that I've been crying for a couple of minutes now. I wipe away the tears and the accumulating snot as Dr. Endell tries to conjure up an answer.

"Truthfully, I do not know. I would imagine that they would send the baby back, but I could also see the government will just put him up for adoption in the Capitol adoption system. Either way, he'd be raised well, if your husband is a good father back in Twelve."

"He's magical," I shudder, quivering. "They're all magical. So you can't help me have my baby."

"No, Carmen. I cannot," Dr. Endell mutters, teeth gritted.

"I have to do it all on my own." And that hurts so much. I've never really been on my own. Even when I was on the streets, I had friends and someone would always help the little starving girl if she starting going through spasms from starvation. I can hardly remember a time before Aris and Cape and the children. I have never really been alone. Twelve might be bleak and strung out and poor as dirt, but we're always there for each other. When one of us falls, another of us that is able stoops to help the fallen. I have no one. I will be alone, giving birth to a baby, be it in my Capitol bedroom, on the interviews stage, or in the arena. I will be all alone. The tears come thicker and faster, and they're splattering across my hands and legs, making me feel wet and cold and lonely.

"Here's some tissues," Dr. Endell murmurs, handing me the box. I push them away.

"Thank you for your time, Dr. Endell," I sniff through my tears. I extend my hand to shake hands in farewell, and he pulls me into a light hug.

"Sometimes they're too cruel," Dr. Endell whispers in my ear while we embrace. "Good luck, Carmen. You'll make it through this."

"I know I will," I say in reply, grinning, as we part. Really, in my head, I know I don't have a chance in hell, and by the way Dr. Endell looks at me pityingly as I walk out the door, he knows I don't have any chance of survival either.

They told me once, "there's a place where love conquers all"

A city where the streets fill with milk and honey

I haven't found it yet, but I'm still searching

All I know is a hopeless place that flows with the blood of my kin

Perhaps hopeless isn't a place

Nothing but a state of mind

They told me once, "don't trust the moon, she's always changing"

The shores bend and break for her

And she begs to be loved

But nothing here is as it seems

Sage Alumius, 15

District Nine Female

I steady the arrow, making sure it's as straight as I can manage, before I release the bowstring with a soft twang. The arrow arcs through the air and nicks the bottom of the target. The trainer, a man with long, fuzzy maroon dreads named Caldrianus, applauds lightly before turning back to Gaia. While I got the hang of the basic motions of archery in only about ten minutes of instruction, it's been over a half hour, and Gaia's still struggling to hold the instrument correctly. Caldrianus has to practically wrap his muscly body around her three times to get her hands and stance correct, and then he steps back. Her arms quake with effort as she pulls the string back as far as she can muster. Then she releases the taut string, and the arrow erupts off of the bow, soaring up towards the ceiling and burying itself in one of the rafters. I start chuckling lightly, and Caldrianus grins.

"At least we know you have range now," Caldrianus laughs. "Let's work on accuracy."

I fire a few more arrows at the target, hitting the edges, while Caldrianus whittles Gaia's skill into something decent by the end of the next half hour. Soon enough she's hitting the middle range of the target, and she's rather delighted. Caldrianus makes his way over to me and checks my stance. He has me spread my legs a little more and keep the bowstring more parallel to the side of my face. I fire again under his careful, helpful instruction, and the arrow buries itself a few inches from the center.

"Great job!" Caldrianus remarks. "You girls have made quite the improvement in the past hour or so."

"Why thank you," Gaia replies, smiling a little. "We would still be trying to fit our arrows on the string if you hadn't been here to help so graciously."

"Just doing my job, unlike some of the shmucks in this building," Caldrianus mutters, shaking his head a little before looking back up at us. "Do you guys want to keep practicing? It doesn't seem like anyone else is going to be coming over here until the end of the training session."

"I think we should go hit shelters," I interject before Gaia can say anything. It's nice to learn archery, but there's very little chance that either of us will get a functional bow and quiver of arrows in the arena. It's much more likely that we'll get a dagger or throwing knife, and that's why we spent the first three hours at those two stations. We came to archery because Gaia was interested, and now we only have a little under an hour of training left. We've hit nearly every survival station excepting shelters, and those can be crucial in some arenas, so I definitely want to go there with the time we have left.

"Oh yeah," Gaia says, sounding more than a little crestfallen. By the way she looks up at Caldrianus, I swear she might fancy him a little bit. "I'd love to stay, but it is pretty necessary to learn how to shelter oneself, especially if the arena's going to be rather inhospitable."

"I understand. I only want what's best for you girls," Caldrianus smiles. "Thanks for stopping by, and hopefully this station helped you out."

We part after a few more words in farewell. As we're walking towards the shelter station, only a row over and two down, I nudge Gaia with my shoulder.

"You're into Caldrianus!" I chortle, shaking my head slightly in the amazement. "That's why you were doing so badly at first at archery, you just wanted him all about you."

"Filthy lies!" Gaia squeaked. "I just suck at it."

"Filthy..." I trail off, waggling my eyebrows suggestively.

"Oh dear Snow, Sage! He's probably in his 30s! I'm 15! It's not even legal!"

"Fantasies don't need to make sense, especially for someone so imaginative like you, Gaia."

"Oh my effing lord, Sage!"

"I'll stop, but only if you pay me."

"In what?"

"A favor, and I'll leave you alone. Don't worry, it won't be like killing yourself or anything. Just something simple."

"Thank you so, so much. It's been a pleasure doing business with you." We mock shake hands, and then we arrive at the shelters station. The lady who runs it, a rotund woman named Divinity, teaches us pleasantly, but goes a little too slow, and by the time lunch is almost there, we haven't covered a majority of the basic skills. I'm a little restless, but I hold it back, making sure to listen to Divinity's parting words as the lunch chimes ring through the air.

"The Last Supper," Gaia jokes as we walk towards the lunchroom.

"Oh be quiet. What does that even mean? Is that from a book or something?" I inquire.

"I don't know. One of my friends at the factory was always blabbering about someone named Jesus and someone named Judas. He got arrested a while back," Gaia replies.

"Ah. Well, we do have more dinners ahead."

"Hopefully many of them."

A/N: Here it is! I hoped you enjoyed reading about these four! Now we only have a single training chapter left, and then we're onto Private Sessions, interviews, other Pre-Games festivities, and THE GAMES! I'm getting a little tired of writing training, so I'm excited that it's coming to a close soon so we can move onto bigger, better things. I'm getting pumped for what's to come!

Which of these girls did you like the best? Who did you like the least? Any thoughts/criticism? Oh, and what did you think of the revelations Bernie and Carmen had this chapter?

Trivia:

Gaia (1 pt.) - What made Sage late to training?

Bernie (1 pt.) - What are her parents' names?

Carmen (1 pt.) - What color are Dr. Endell's eyes?

Sage (1 pt.) - What is the name of the archery trainer?

Until Next Time (hopefully soon!),

Tracee