Chapter 14:

Pascal Flores, 12, District Seven

Pascal doesn't know what to do as he paces his room. After boarding the train, Winona quietly asked Pascal to come talk to her later, and he can take a good guess what that's about. He knows who their sibling is. Their sibling has come and gone in their house before, a double agent for the rebels working in the Capitol and giving them information. If Luciano knows who he is, then Winona knows.

And he isn't sure if he wants people to know that he's from a rebel family that might have rigged him in.

But he doesn't know for sure…that's the piece holding him back from telling anyone. Because if they did rig him in, well they can piss off. But if not…he can't be jeopardizing Elin and his friends, even if the others are assholes to him sometimes. They're only kids, still safe from the Reaping. But they won't be if Pascal tells the Capitol about them.

What a shitty situation.

Pascal's stomach lets out a big rumble and he sighs as he looks down at it. Dinner won't be for a couple hours…and he was too anxious to eat much lunch so shortly after they got on the train. They shouldn't be mad if he snacks…right?

And if they are, too bad. They're not the ones heading into the Hunger Games.

Mind made up, Pascal opens the door and sticks his head out, making sure no one is out, before stepping out and quietly making his way over to the dining car.

"Where are you going?"

At least he thought he was being quiet. Pascal holds back a scowl at being stopped in the hallway, but relaxes a little when he realizes it's just his District partner, not one of their mentors or Winona coming to lecture him on strategy. What strategy could possibly work for him? He's a scrawny twelve year old. He ain't making it out of that arena alive – regardless of the fact that he's been raised around rebels. "None of your business."

"It is though," Betula comments as Pascal keeps walking, following him over into the next room. Pascal stomps his feet a little as he heads over to the food table and starts putting stuff on his plate. Betula sits down at the table, watching him as he turns around and contemplates going back to his room with his food. "Am I that repulsive you don't even want to sit with me?"

"I could ask the same," Pascal asks, glancing down at himself for a moment before quickly looking back over at Betula, swallowing to fight back the uneasy pit in his stomach he always gets over his lovely pre-teen body. "Fine," Pascal grumbles as he takes a seat across from them. Sitting with them is a better option than going back to his room alone and dealing with the mess of emotions in him right now. "So why am I part of your business?"

Betula shrugs at him as he starts stabbing lettuce a bit aggressively, "You're the only one remotely close to my age. I don't know what the hell I'm supposed to talk about with people that are that ancient."

Pascal snorts at that, making the hint of a smile form on their face. "Laurel isn't even thirty yet."

"Way older than I'll ever get," Betula retorts and Pascal finds himself starting to nod his head in agreement, before frowning at how quickly he's ready to be resigned to his death.

"You don't seem to bothered by being picked," Pascal points out and Betula gives another shrug. "Why?"

Betula gives him a long look before reaching up to their hair and pulling it, making it slide right off and leaving behind a bald head. "Why do you think?" Betula asks him as Pascal stares with wide eyes, taking in their appearance. They start scowling a little at Pascal staring and throw their wig at his face, making him jump in surprise. "Stop staring, dumbass, or I'm not going to help you."

"Why the hell would you want to help me?" Pascal asks, not afraid to let out his sass when Betula is being just as sassy to him. "You don't even know me. For all you know, I could be the biggest douchebag in District Seven."

"You're not, I knew some of them," Betula answers as they lean back and kick up their feet onto the table. "Look, Pascal…I'm dying. Been dying for a year now. I'm tired of being sick, I'm tired of being a burden on my family. So yeah, I feel like I was picked for a reason and that reason was to just die already."

"I'm sorry," Pascal tells them quietly, genuinely feeling bad for them that they are so ready to die. "I…" Pascal shakes his head, deciding it's not worthwhile trying to bring up the fact that he suspects he was rigged in. "You didn't answer my question."

"I suppose if I'm not making it out of that arena, I might as well do my best to help District Seven get another victor. Make my death not in vain, or whatever bullshit people say," Betula responds, trying to sound all chill about it, but Pascal can see that deep down, they are a little afraid of dying.

"I wouldn't be so certain about me making it out of there alive," Pascal says quietly, knowing that if the Capitol learns who he knows…and if he doesn't frame it right, he's a dead man walking. But can he really convince them that he isn't still a bit on their side if it means dooming his friends? And does he really want to die for Vera Snow?

Betula just picks up a water glass and holds it up to him. "Cheers, to the doomed District. May we die valiantly."

Pascal snorts at their comment as he picks up his own water glass to clink against theirs, yet despite trying to pretend he's fine with this joking around, he's really not.

He's petrified at the thought of dying and knowing there might be knowing he can do to stop his death.


Grey Pendleton, 17, District Eight

As Grey sits back on the train, listening to Barathea and Chef Mae get details from Gwenith about her terrible home life, Grey just simply cannot believe that she was raised like that. A mother missing for over a year, possibly dead. An abusive father who caused the injuries on her face, drove her to drink and take the desperate move of volunteering to escape him. Well she has him now, he'll protect her.

She just doesn't know it yet. But she'll know soon enough.

"I really think it would be beneficial for us to be allies," Grey speaks up finally, bringing the attention of the four people over to him, but he only cares about Gwenith. She's the one that needs his help, and he doubts the mentors know better than him what she needs, having spent his whole life watching and raising kids. And he most certainly isn't going to listen to the escort that spent the entire Reaping insulting him.

"Don't you want people older and not messes like me?" Gwenith asks stubbornly, crossing her arms and wincing a little in pain, making him jump up from his spot to put his hands on his hips as he looks at the mentors just sitting there.

"Has anyone even offered her pain medication?" Grey accusingly asks them before shaking his head at the looks they share. He knows the answer, having sat back and waited to see if they would be any help for Gwenith. Of course they aren't, they're not Grey. Grey sighs as he looks at Gwenith, giving her a pity smile, "I'm sorry, Gwenith, if I had known, I would have gotten that for you right away."

Astrid crosses her arms at him and Grey gives his mentor his best cheery smile as she gives him a response, having stayed quiet until he no longer did the same, "Grey, why don't you shut the fuck up and let the mentors do their job?"

"Well you haven't done a good job at mentoring her," Grey says casually, glancing over at Gwenith and noticing her watching him curiously, not looking as stubborn and brash anymore. Perfect. "It's clear none of you have been around children. I mean, one of you is still a child."

"Come here, you bitch boy," Astrid says angrily, getting ready to jump over towards him and being held back by Barathea, who no longer looks amused by Astrid's attitude and instead angry at Grey. "Why the hell did you even volunteer if you're just going to argue with us every step of the way?"

"Astrid," Barathea warns the young girl and Grey just shakes his head at her attitude. Again, a clear example of someone not raised properly. She didn't even have parents to raise her and her disrespect for him makes it clear. "Grey, we are trying to help you both, but you're making it difficult for us."

"That's fine because I don't need your help," Grey tells them with a shrug, moving over to Gwenith to stand protectively near her. "And Gwenith doesn't need your help, she has me. Right, Gwenith?"

The girl is put on the spot by his question and he suspects she might still be a little drunk, or at least on her way to a wicked hangover – something he'll have to scold her about later before offering water. She looks hesitant for a moment and Grey increases the grin he gives her, cranking up the reliable older brother vibes he gives all the kids he looks after. Eventually, she nods her head in agreement, "Yeah…Grey is my ally."

"Of course, someone needs to look after you," Grey says proudly, giving the mentors a smug look as they stare back at him in various levels of disbelief and annoyance. "Now come, let's go get you some painkillers," Grey tells Gwenith, getting an obedient nod of her head after a couple seconds. "And some water, since I'm sure no one thought of the fact that you need that after drinking," Grey adds, giving a pointed look at the mentors.

"Yeah, my head hurts," Gwenith says quietly as she stands up and puts a hand to her forehead, swaying a little in her spot and Grey watches, wondering if she is going to fall. She takes a couple steps and stumbles, and Grey lets her fall, but quickly offers a hand to help her up. Gwenith laughs a little at her stumble, proving to Grey she's still intoxicated, and takes Grey's hand.

"You need to be more careful, what would you do without me around to help you up?" Grey asks as he starts to lead her over to the next car, turning back to give the mentors a look before the door shuts behind them.

"Probably be just fine," Gwenith answers as she stumbles again, but doesn't fall this time.

Grey doesn't let his smile falter at this comment, knowing that he just needs to work a little to make sure Gwenith knows she needs him. "Maybe right now, but what about in training when we're around sharp weapons? Or the arena when everyone else wants to kill you?"

"Hmph," Gwenith answers, at least not outright disagreement with him over this as he opens the door to her room and sits her down at the bed. He points at her to stay there and she rolls her eyes, but follows his guidance. Good, already learning.

"Let's see what I can get for you," Grey says as he goes into the bathroom to see what medicine the Capitol has for them. There's only a small selection of pills, no doubt to keep them from overdosing to avoid the Games, and even the options available won't do much. He definitely can't leave any of these for her, what if she takes the wrong thing without him? Well…it would make sure she depends on him. Or he can just give them to her.

"You know, you really shouldn't drink like that," Grey calls over to Gwenith in the next room as he opens the small package of painkillers and takes one out before pocketing the rest to make sure Gwenith knows she has to go to him for them in the future. He shakes his head at her as he walks back into the room, watching her hold out her hand to him. "I'm not going to have an ally that is counting on alcohol and pills, Gwenith. Don't disappoint me."

"I won't, I just have a headache," Gwenith comments as she gestures with her hand, and Grey waits another moment before sighing heavily and placing the pill in her hand. She quickly swallows it, wincing a little at the uncomfortableness of not having water to drink with it. "Thanks."

"Of course," Grey says with a smile. "You just come to me for things."

"Sure," Gwenith says as she lays back on the bed, her eyes watering as she curls up around herself. "No one treats me like this anymore. Not since my- my mo-"

"Your parents failed you," Grey says, voice sweet as he tries to soothe her. "It's not surprising you ended up like this with parents like that. But I'm here now. And I'm going to protect you and our allies."

"Allies?" Gwenith asks in confusion and Grey nods his head, knowing there's a short list of people he will not take no for an answer about being allies.

Grey will make sure they are his allies. He has to protect them, just like he has to protect Quill. "Yes Gwenith, allies."


Asha Kader, 18, District Nine

As Asha stares up at the ceiling, the minutes slowly ticking by in the darkness, she can feel herself getting torn in two directions. More so than she's been feeling the past couple of months as Slash slowly started to encroach on her daily life, infiltrating her normally meek demeanor and giving her a lust for power in the day time. She'd been trying desperately to push it back, afraid of what she might do or who she might hurt. But now…now she's starting to think that embracing Slash might be her one chance of making it out of the Hunger Games alive.

Yet that thought brings immense fear to her, fear over who she will become… But how else is she supposed to survive?

Asha can't take anymore of laying around, just hoping for sleep to come to her when clearly it won't. She slides her feet into a pair of excessively fluffy slippers, feeling bad for a moment that she's being gifted all of this luxury without doing anything or having any way of paying it back, before she pushes that thought aside and remembers they are also sending her into the Games. She deserves to get some luxury now. Besides…she might be paying with her life or the lives of others.

No, she can't think like that.

Asha puts a hand to her head, shaking it as she struggles with her internal turmoil. Fuck…why can't she get a grip on herself? Why is she even having these thoughts? Asha lets out a groan of frustration before stomping out of her room, tired and angry both from the fact that she can't sleep and at herself for even having these thoughts. She should be caring that she's making noise down the hallway and it's late, but fuck it. Let them know that the girl doomed for the Games is up and angry.

Asha suddenly slows as she approaches the dining car, upset at herself for that. She glances around at the rooms, wondering if she should go apologize to them for making noise…but what if she hadn't woken them up and then by apologizing she does? She can apologize in the morning… Asha continues, much quieter, and she hesitates in the doorway as she realizes people are already in there. "Sorry," Asha says quickly to Laine and Sativa when they stop talking and look over at her. "I just couldn't sleep but I can go somewhere else."

"No worries, please stay," Sativa tells her with a smile and Laine nods his head, looking as exhausted as Asha feels. Asha hesitates for a moment and Sativa pats the couch near her. "It's alright, you're a District team. Laine couldn't sleep either."

"Okay," Asha agrees tentatively, slowly walking over to the couch. Sativa stands up to make room for her and Asha quickly tries to motion her back down. "Please, don't get up for me."

"It's fine," Sativa reassures her, but Asha doesn't fully believe that… "I'll just go get Lelantos so you can talk with them, if you like."

Asha nearly starts shaking her head, not wanting to wake up her mentor and yet…part of her wants to know what they think about her. She saw the looks they have given her, the knowing looks that have told her that they are aware of who she is. And if they know…why would they mentor her? "Sure," Asha replies meekly as she sits down on the couch, getting a smile in return from Sativa before she heads towards their rooms.

Asha glances down at the floor as she swings her feet around, not knowing what to talk to Laine about in the meantime. "Can't sleep too?" Laine asks her and Asha glances up for a moment, nodding her head before bringing her feet up and tucking them underneath her. "Me too…it's tough. My brain just won't stop thinking about all the possible outcomes."

"Yeah…" Asha agrees quietly, looking back over at Laine to find him smiling politely at her, encouraging her to talk a bit more to him. "There's so many uncertainties, the main one being how I'm going to make it through the arena."

"Well," Laine starts softly, pausing as he looks away for a moment, brushing his hair back before turning back to her. "You know…it's not a bad idea if we were to work together… At least for now. If you find someone else, you can always go with them but…I'd rather not be alone."

Asha nods her head, feeling a flash of relief at the suggestion, not having realized one of the things keeping her up was the potential loneliness. "Yeah maybe," she answers as Sativa and Lelantos enter the room. Asha quickly stands up and gives her mentor an apologetic look as they approach. "I'm sorry if I woke you up."

Lelantos shakes their head, but they are clearly holding back a yawn. "It's alright, I sleep like shit on these trains anyways. What's up?"

Asha glances hesitantly between Laine and Lelantos, unsure if she wants her potential ally knowing about this part of herself… She's not sure yet if she's going to tell the country about Slash. "Can we go talk alone for a bit?"

"Of course," Lelantos answers and waves their hand over their shoulder for her to follow. She obediently follows them over to the next room and Lelantos gets settled down on the couch, letting out another yawn. She sits across from them, bringing her knees up to her chest and holding her legs. "What do you want to talk about?"

"You," Asha answers softly, making them raise their eyebrow at her. She clears her throat, quickly trying to clarify, "I mean, why you chose to mentor me. You seemed to know about me and with your history, I just… Why?"

"Why would I choose to mentor someone that works at the brothel that nearly ruined my life from the addiction I developed?" Lelantos asks and Asha bites her lip nervously as she nods her head in confirmation. "Fonio told me. I thought maybe I could help someone not get ruined by that place like I have."

"I think it already has…" Asha nervously tells them. "Slash – my dominatrix side…I can feel her starting to infiltrate the normal part of my life. And I'm scared because I like the thought of it."

Lelantos stares at her for a minute, their face unreadable as they contemplate what to tell her. "Asha," they say firmly, getting her to look at them with a bit of defiance at the controlling tone to their voice. "I don't want to see you get ruined by it but…that might just help you survive in the arena if you embrace your domineering side. All that matters right now is that we get you out of the arena alive. And no matter what, I will be there to get you through whatever happened in that arena and not let you end up like me."

Asha considers this, thinking about what it would be like in the arena to let Slash take control, to punish people… And she likes the idea.


Sissel Wetherburn, 17, District Ten

Sissel has known for a long time that people are twisted and fucked up, but as he sits here on the train to the Capitol to prepare for a televised death match, discussing strategies to be the last one alive, it's all so obvious. At home, death with birds has meaning – if they don't kill, they'll starve. But in the Hunger Games? He can't help but feel a little jaded at the way he'll be forced to kill for entertainment, not for purpose. Sure, the Games were interesting to watch at home until he grew too irritated at the irrational ways tributes acted.

But that doesn't mean he hasn't already started planning how he will survive to make sure he is the one that makes it out of the arena alive. He knows for the short term the birds will be taken care of, but what will happen in the long term if he doesn't make it out alive? What happens when his father is too old to run the sanctuary? Sissel refuses to find out what would happen. He will do whatever it takes to protect his birds.

Sissel sits back as he listens to the two mentors talking with Ally over strategy, letting her ask questions and just taking in everything. The girl has shown her stubbornness right away and how unafraid she is to stand up to everyone, including Johan, to defend what she believes in. Sissel can't help but question if it's real, knowing that she can't truly be altruistic about wanting to help out the couple tributes younger than her. No one is that willing to help people out of goodness. He has yet to see people act without their own ulterior motive.

This is why he likes to be around birds instead. It's so much easier to understand their motives and actions.

"Sissel?"

Sissel tilts his head slightly to the side as he glances over at Danila as he mentors goes into a coughing fit. Johan gives her a concerned look that she quickly dismisses before addressing Sissel, "You've been quiet. Have you been thinking about strategy?"

"Of course," Sissel answers immediately. He hasn't stopped thinking about how he will get out of there alive since his name was called out, how he'll get back to his birds. He's not fooling anyone with his size, barely pushing 5'4". He knows he'll fight tooth and nail if it comes down to it, but he has plans on how to prevent that. After all, how different can traps for humans be for traps for birds?

"Are you going to share?" Danila presses him, raising her eyebrows at him expectantly. Sissel just gives a shrug at her, glancing over at Ally sitting there, knowing he isn't going to reveal his plans in front of her. Let one tribute know and soon enough, everyone will know. Teenagers love to gossip and he doesn't know her.

Danila catches the look Sissel gives at Ally as Johan lets out a pleasant laugh as he addresses his fellow mentor. "Another stubborn bull, reminds me of you."

"Actually more like a crow," Sissel says right away, much rather preferring the comparison to a bird instead of a bull, yet he doesn't deny it. "Or seagulls. Those birds are notoriously stubborn."

"Then how about we go chat over in the next room?" Danila asks Sissel as she stands up, and he gives another nonchalant shrug as he follows her lead. No need to give Ally any reason to question him. He gives Johan and Ally a pleasant smile before leaving the room, silently following his mentor.

"So, not a fan of sharing in front of Ally?" Danila asks him as she sits on the edge of the table to face him.

Sissel nods his head respectfully, "I don't like opening up to people. You can't trust what motives they have in their heart, not anyone outside of family."

"I respect that and it's smart, given the position you're currently in," Danila answers, gesturing for him to take a seat near where she leans. "I don't want to press you, but I will say it makes it easier for me to help get you out alive if you open up to me. We're on the same page here: we both want you to be the victor."

Sissel nods his head in agreement, having to adjust his beanie as it starts slipping off his head. "Then know I have no problem with killing and doing whatever it takes to win. My birds are on the line and I will do anything to protect them. Anything."

Danila opens her mouth to speak but starts coughing again as she holds up her finger for him to wait. "Good," Danila says through a cough, her eyes watering as she struggles to hold it in. "Johan likes playing fair, but I'm of the mindset that you do whatever to survive. So what does that mean for you?"

Sissel contemplates for a moment, wondering just how much he should open up to her about now, torn between letting her in to his full strategy and not trusting her fully. "I need trapping materials. And if I can have a falcon, well, I can do damage there. We can both see I'm not winning any outright fights."

Danila looks him over for a moment, debating her response, before going for honesty, "You're a scrawny ass kid."

"Yes, I am aware," Sissel answers her, not annoyed because it's the truth. "But…"

"Sissel, I promise, no question is going to be too out there," Danila reassures him, yet he thinks this one might be. He really doesn't know how many tributes will be asking what he is asking for. Well, actually he does know that answer – no one is going to ask for exactly what he has in mind. But if they agree…Sissel will have no problem taking out the biggest threats in the arena.

"How do I go about asking the Gamemakers for a specific thing to help me fight in the arena and do you think they would agree to it?"

Danila raises her eyebrows at this question, clearly wanting to ask what it is, but thankfully doesn't yet. "I suppose it's going to depend on what it is. If it will be entertaining…there's a good possibility. You're not going to tell me what it is, are you?"

Sissel shakes his head immediately, knowing it will be out in the open soon enough. But he won't tell Danila just yet. "Not until I know their answer."


Jendaya "Jenny" Barrett, 18, District Eleven

Karma just wants to keep biting her in the ass, but Jenny is not going to sit back and let it. She is going to fight tooth and nail to get out of this arena alive. She didn't work her way from nothing to having a wealthy family, suffer through abuse from her husband before his…untimely death…to just roll over and let some prissy tributes win who have had their parents give them everything and paid for them to learn to kill. Jenny's a survivor, she's worked for what she has, and she's not giving it up easily.

She's lucky to have a mentor of the same mindset. Sure, Kanzi doesn't know what it's like to survive someone like Kane, but she was willing to do whatever it took to win, even sacrificing her own allies. She understood the Games are a selfish thing and it's her or them. They've gotten along well so far, sitting in a separate room watching the reaping recaps and sipping wine, taking notes and discussing who would make good allies and who to watch out for.

If they would have met in a different place…Jenny could almost see them as friends. Maybe they can be after this hell is over.

Part of her is glad Grant wanted to keep to himself from the get go, even if he seemed nice… But Jenny knows better. Boys can seem nice on the surface, but they're just hiding the nasty ugly truth deep down until they can use it to hurt people. Well Jenny won't fall for that from anyone, not even her District partner – even if he's shown no signs yet of being anything other than nice, albeit sad. But who isn't a little sad right now?

"The careers are a hot mess this year," Kanzi comments with a shake of her head, watching Claudia and Elliot discuss the six careers, analyzing the potential pack and making predictions on their future alliance. "Which is all the better for you."

"I'm not allying with any rogue careers," Jenny says with a snort before sipping her wine. "Those are the exact kind of people I want to stay away from."

"I know, I meant it's better that they split," Kanzi tells her, gesturing at the screen with her glass. "Less unity means less effective at killing. I bet there's a good chance that a non-career wins this year."

"Yeah, me," Jenny answers and Kanzi offers her glass to cheers at that. Jenny taps her mentor's glass before smiling as she turns back to the screen and the analysis of everyone from just the Reaping. "Now to figure out which people to ally with."

"There's some good options," Kanzi comments and Jenny nods her head, staying silent as a small pit begins to form in her stomach that she can't push away as she stares at the screen. "Who do you want?"

"Not an asshole," Jenny answers right away, making Kanzi chuckle at the response.

"And do you have some sort of secret asshole radar?"

"The assholes have a certain air to them," Jenny says with a shrug, not wanting to get too into how she knows that yet. Not even Kanzi can know the things she's done to survive. "See it enough and you can recognize it easily. Like Grey? Huge bitch, he has that air. I want…someone trusting, not too young. Someone who will feel bad for me having lost my sweet husband."

"Yes, the ultimate pity card," Kanzi nods her head, already having picked up that Kane was not a good person despite Jenny not flat-out telling her. "They'll never see you coming."

"I hope not," Jenny answers quietly, knowing that when – not if – she kills, it won't be flashy. No, she's going for the sneaky silent ways to kill. "And…I don't want to really ally with any boys, unless they show they're not an asshole."

"Then let's focus on the others," Kanzi says, looking down at her notepad filled with scratched out comments on the tributes. "Sasha?"

"Small maybe. I want fighting skills," Jenny comments right away, not immediately counting out Sasha. She'll wait until training to see if the girl has drive to fight.

"Margaery?"

"Maybe too young, but a good maybe," Jenny answers, wanting to see more of Margaery before making any decisions. But if she's trusting and naïve…

"Iroha's an obvious no," Kanzi says, shaking her head as she crosses off Iroha's name on the list, missing the brief moment of conflicting emotions on Jenny's face as she thinks about the woman. Iroha…she can't help the feeling that Iroha being there, so obviously pregnant, is karma giving Jenny a big middle finger in her face, reminding her of the child she lost. Can she watch Iroha lose her child?

Stop, Jenny. There's nothing she can do to stop Iroha's death, not if she plans to win. Yet as she takes a sip of her wine, delaying her response, she can't help but picture the vulnerable look in Iroha's eyes as she took to the stage, the desperate look of a mother who would do anything to save their child…

Fuck, she can't be feeling this way towards Iroha.

"Solid no," Jenny tells Kanzi and herself, changing the topic to the other tributes. "Don't even ask about Betula, too young."

"Gwenith?"

Jenny shakes her head, "Volunteers are targets and she seems too brash to just follow me."

"Fair," Kanzi agrees before moving on. "Asha?"

"Good possibility," Jenny says, remembering the way Asha was hesitant, but seemed to have a drive in her.

"And Ally?"

"Too young," Jenny shakes her head, even as she realizes her list of potential allies is very small. But if none of them work, well she is fine with counting on just herself. Only she can get herself out of there.

Kanzi looks down at her list for a few seconds before looking over at Jenny, who can just tell from her face she's not going to like it. "Are you sure you don't want to consider the boys?"

"Not unless I go through all my options first," Jenny answers immediately, knowing that possibility is small. They'd really need to prove themselves to her, and even then, Jenny will always be on edge around them. All thanks to stupid Kane.

"Then I guess we have our plan," Kanzi says as she tosses her notepad aside and holds her glass up to Jenny. "Here's to our next District Eleven victor."

"Cheers," Jenny answers, a smirk forming on her face at the confidence her mentor has in her. And Jenny can't wait to put karma in its place, refusing to give in to it.

Fuck you, Kane, you're not winning from Hell.


And there we have the rest of the train rides! I'm really excited to get to the things I've set the groundwork for here in these chapters (plus some other things we'll get to later on). Next chapter we're getting to the chariots and we'll start seeing tributes from different Districts interacting, and I can't wait!

In other exciting news, subs are officially open for my next full SYOT Renegades: The 151st Hunger Games! This is a direct sequel to Senseless and there's lots of changes, including this being the first story I will be writing with 24 tributes...*eyes emoji* All the info for it is up on my profile and I hope you'll considering submitting!

Oh I should probably start making a list of confirmed allies, even though at this point it's just District pairs. Next chapter we'll see it start changing up:

- Bitch don't cross me (Rodrick, Tiv)

- Sure Kaz, you're totally in charge (Marian, Kaz)

- Still allies even if they don't chat much (Abel, Orin)

- The Sassy Pre-Teens (TM) (Pascal, Betula)

- The Babysitter Club (Grey, Gwenith)

- Good to have backup, am I right? (Asha, Laine)

RQ #14: Hmm, what are your prediction(s) on alliances?

Alright that's all I have to say about this chapter. I'll see you all next week with the chariots!