Train Rides

Levi Mirani, 18, District 7 Male

As Levi walks up the steps to the train, he can't help but think of how wrong this feels. He shouldn't be here, in reality no one should be, but he can't help but selfishly feel that he should be exempt for absolutely no good reason. The Hunger Games have always been a possibility, a faraway tragedy that his parents would have riled against if they were still alive to do so. Levi just didn't think it could actually happen to him. He's never really entertained it.

He hates thinking about how much he wishes that he were headed back home with Aviva, mumbling about the poor tributes that had been selected. He hates how he would have been complacent with the fact that someone else was going to die, but not himself. Levi despises the fact that his attitude shifts more and more away from that of his parents' every day. He should have been pushing back against the Hunger Games since he understood what it meant. It feels wrong to even try to condemn the event now that he's been reaped when last year Levi would have been working outside as his aunt prepared dinner like nothing even happened.

Verdana walks up behind him and nearly smacks into Levi's back as he pauses to take in the train car. Its absolutely stunning, which only makes the pit deepen in his stomach. It's too easy to pretend that the Capitol cares about them when the ride to their deaths is so beautiful. Levi would almost believe it himself if he couldn't still hear Verdana sniffling behind him.

Levi feels his breath catch in his throat when he sees Keenan already seated at the dining table, a trio of empty bottles scattered in front of him. Everyone in the district knows the Victor, but Levi's only seen him up close a handful of times. Keenan looks up at them as they enter and motions clumsily to the empty chairs across from him. Verdana is the first to sit down, wiping another layer of tears off on her sleeve. Levi hesitates a moment, the smell of spilled beer acting like a repellent, but also takes a seat one over from his district partner. Their escort, who hasn't told Levi their name yet, sinks into the nearby couch to watch.

"So, shit luck you two have, eh?" Keenan says with a smirk. His eyelids are droopy as if he might just fall asleep right here on the table. Perhaps that's why his words don't hold as much venom as Levi expected.

"What do we do now?" Verdana says, her voice cracking for just a moment. Levi has never seen the girl in his life, and he hasn't heard her say more than a couple words since they met. She doesn't seem quite as small as she did on the stage. In fact, she's sitting up straighter than he is.

Keenan lets out a humourless chuckle. "Beats me, kid."

"You did this before," Verdana tries, allowing another couple of tears to drip down her face onto the table. "What did you do?"

"I didn't die," Keenan says. "That's about the advice I can offer. Stay away from the pointy end of the knife."

Verdana's lips tighten into a frown and she drops her gaze down to the table. Levi lets out a slow breath, willing himself to say something to get Keenan on their side. All Levi wants to do right now is lie down on the couch over there and cry himself into a coma, but Verdana has the better idea. Levi's certain that he's going to have all the time he needs to mourn the life he just left behind. He needs direction to prevent him from imploding with guilt.

"What happens next?" Levi asks, staring intently at Keenan over the table.

"Huh?" Their mentor asks, not even looking at Levi as he toys with the bent bottle cap in his hand. Levi feels a flash of anger towards the man for being so useless when he and Verdana are counting on him, but it's gone before he can even fully grasp it. Levi looks down at the table again. He doesn't want to anger their mentor any further and it already looks like Keenan's had enough of them. As if on cue, Keenan rises from his chair and disappears through one of the doors without any invitation to follow him.

"Don't mind him," their escort says from the couch, where her lacy dress is splayed out around her. "I'm Abilene, by the way."

Levi nods at her politely, but can feel tears biting at the corners of his eyes. Verdana doesn't even turn around to face the woman, instead keeping her eyes trained on the door Keenan disappeared behind. Levi wants to tell her not to bother, that their mentor isn't coming back and he clearly doesn't care, but he doesn't even feel ready to speak again.

"I can try to answer any questions you might have," Abilene says gently. She rises and comes over to sit in Keenan's place, a kind smile on her face.

"What happens now?" Verdana asks, repeating Levi's earlier question. He only half-listens to the answer as he becomes painfully aware of the slight movement behind the window blinds as they pass through Panem. He wonders how far away they are from District 7 now, how far away he is from his old life. Tears begin to pour down Levi's face before he can stop them.

Levi feels a soft hand on his shoulder and, when he looks up, he sees Verdana staring over at him. Her eyes twinkle with tears, but they've stopped falling for now. Her words come with more confidence than Levi would have expected. "We can do this."

Levi looks from Verdana to Abilene, not bothering to shake off the comforting hand of his district partner. It's silent for a moment, but Levi finds himself whispering his earlier thoughts before he even realizes what he's saying. "I don't know how people let this happen."

Abilene looks down at the tablecloth, but Verdana keeps eye contact with Levi. "I don't think that matters now."

Levi nods as more tears mingle on his cheeks. He buries his face in his arms, his body twitching with sobs before he can stop them from coming. Verdana lifts her hand from his shoulder and Levi immediately misses the contact, but he doesn't blame her. He's a crying mess that probably doesn't look like he has a chance in Panem of making it through the Hunger Games. It's not the first time in Levi's life that he's felt like a failure, but it is the first time that he can actually feel his parents' disappointment as they look down on him. He's nothing like they wanted him to be, nothing like he wanted him to be, and that only makes the tears fall faster.

Aristona Villiour, 18, District 2 Female

Aristona turns as Matias and Amos enter their train car. She sits up straighter in her seat by the window, not wasting any time in showing them how eager she is to get started. She has been preparing for this moment since she joined the Academy all those years ago, even if she didn't know it at the time. The thrill of being up on that stage in front of her home district hasn't faded a bit, even if her small stumble up the steps wasn't exactly in her plans. Aristona is ready to do this and no amount of nervousness is going to ruin this moment.

"Welcome," Matias says blankly, looking from her to Delias as he speaks. Amos is silent standing beside him with both hands in his pockets. "You both know us, and we now know you. No need for formalities. Let's sit and talk."

Aristona stands automatically and makes her way to the table, sitting across from Mathias without bothering to check if Delias is following her. She's not sure exactly what to think about her district partner even though they've been in the same training class for the last few years. Delias has mostly kept to himself, but she's heard the rumours. He's not the most likable person and the fact that he's yet to say a word to her only solidifies her opinion of him. The most important thing is that he is good at what he does and for that reason alone Aristona is willing to work with him.

"Amos is going to be mentoring Delias. Aristona you're with me." The way that Mathias speaks leaves no room for disagreement, but Aristona is more than happy with the arrangement. "If you want to talk together, we'll do that. Objections?"

Aristona and Delias both shake their heads, so he continues. "You've both chosen to volunteer, but now is the time when things get real. You're not in the Academy anymore. At least one of you isn't going to make it out. Listen to us and you'll stand the best chance of actually winning this thing."

"You'll need a healthy dose of dumb luck along with that," Amos says bitterly, looking over the table at Delias,

"We've been preparing for this for years," Aristona assures him. "We won't need luck."

"Oh yeah?" Amos challenges. "You ever killed someone? You ever stayed up all night wondering if one of your allies was going to slit your throat if you fell asleep? You ever-"

"Amos, enough," Mathias says sternly, slamming his fist down on the table in front of them.

"They should know," Amos snarls, his lips tightening into a frown as he glares back at Mathias.

"Know what?" Aristona asks, annoyed to have the mentors talking as if neither her or Delias were even there. She's never actually spoken to Amos, but she doesn't remember him being this temperamental at home. The trainers are the ones that lose their temper on the trainees when they don't perform well; the Victors never have to.

Amos leans as far over the table as he can while still remaining standing, his eyes cutting into Aristona like knives. "The Hunger Games aren't what you think they are."

Mathias pulls Amos up by the back of his shirt, twirling him around to face him. "I think you've said enough. I'll take it from here."

Amos looks like he is about to protest, but soon enough his posture slackens and he retreats through the far door. Mathias smooths out his shirt and takes a seat again, smiling half-heartedly at the tributes. "I'm sorry, it's been a rough couple of years for him."

"What was he talking about?" Aristona asks. As much as she wouldn't like to admit it, Amos' words have shaken her. She's been preparing herself for the arena for years; it's ridiculous to think that she doesn't know what the Hunger Games are. Her trainers have taught her well. She might not have done any of the things he said, but when the time comes Aristona firmly believes that she will be able to handle them. The Academy never would have let her volunteer if she wasn't ready. Aristona refuses to believe anything else.

"He just means that you're going to have to call on all of your training to get through these next few weeks," Mathias explains, but Aristona isn't sure that he believes what he is saying. She briefly considers probing further but quickly decides that it's not worth her time. They'll be in the Capitol tomorrow and she needs to focus on that right now. Besides, she can't be certain that Amos is in a right state of mind right now. Mathias, at least, doesn't seem to think so or he wouldn't have sent him away. Her mentor appears to know what he is talking about, so she will trust him.

"I'm ready," Aristona says, letting out a slow breath. She looks at Delias, who nods in agreement but she can see the hesitance on his face. It's the same look that he had when they first met, like he wasn't quite sure what to say to her. Similarly to that day, Delias chooses to say nothing. Aristona is only slightly disappointed.

"I know you are," Mathias smiles. "Now, you're both aware of the usual alliance with District 1?"

"I'm not sure we should rush into anything," Aristona says quickly and Delias grunts in response, which she can only assume means that he agrees with her.

"We know that the male is a volunteer," Mathias tells them, ignoring her uncertainty. "The female is not, however there was another volunteer from District 4."

"We'll meet them during training, then," Aristona says. She is unwilling to set herself up into an alliance before she meets these tributes. It's smarter to give herself time to decide what is best, even if the alliance is basically set in stone from years prior. She will have the final say in what's right for her game.

"It's up to you two," Mathias says with a nod. He flinches when a crash comes from the other room, and Mathias quickly excuses himself to check on Amos.

"What do you think of the alliance?" Aristona asks Delias as soon as the door closes behind Mathias. She can hear them shouting, but she can't make out what they're saying. It's probably easier to focus on Delias and figure out what their plan will be when they get to the Capitol. She had tried to get him to stay for a strategy meeting after their session together, but he'd just shook his head and ran off. Still, even though she is hesitant about a larger alliance, there is little question in her mind that they will be staying together in the arena. It feels right to be fighting alongside someone from Two. They're both trying to do the same thing- bring back the prize for their home. At the end of the day, if it's not her that returns it needs to be him. That's the only honourable way to think.

Delias shrugs and gives a short grunt. Aristona waits for more of a response but it soon becomes clear that she is not going to get one. His refusal to speak to her bothers Aristona more than she would prefer to let on, but she isn't going to allow herself to dwell on it. "Great opinion, thanks."

Emilia Rorfile, 18, District 5 Female

Emilia paces the room as she waits to finally meet their mentor. As soon as they got on the train, Eason was nowhere to be found but the escort said that he would meet them shortly. Doran watches her silently from the dining table, his hands clenching and unclenching in front of him as if he isn't quite sure what to do with them. Emilia supposes that she should be sitting with him, ready to make a good impression when Eason does show up, but that feels like the easiest way to start thinking about her situation. It's much easier to admire the expertly constructed decals and columns that fill the room. She's always been more into painting and sketching, but she can appreciate good work in most mediums. This train car is more decorated than any building she's seen in District 5 and it's a welcome distraction.

Emilia always imagined herself going to the Capitol. It's something she's wanted since she was a little girl, even though her parents believed that she'd outgrown the fantasy years ago. Their appreciation for art and beauty is something Emilia has never experienced in District 5. She can see it in their clothing, their buildings, and the way they speak. She's always believed she was meant to be there and somehow got misplaced in the outer district. Now she's on her way to the Capitol, but she couldn't be less excited. She's not going there to follow her dreams; she's going there to die.

A door opens and a tall man steps into their train car, his bare feet and stained shirt in direct contrast to the luxurious room. He doesn't seem to notice either of them, but sinks down into the chair beside Doran who immediately leans in the opposite direction. Emilia looks at their escort, Mykel, who nods towards the table. So, this is Eason; Emilia wouldn't have recognized him if she'd only been passing by. Their district was once plastered in posters of the Victor, in fact Emilia had even tried to sketch him once or twice, but he looks much different now. In the few years since his win, Eason appears to have aged at least a decade.

"What up?" Eason says loudly as Emilia gingerly takes the seat across from him and Doran. She hasn't spoken to her district partner at all since they met. There really isn't anything to say. She already misses her family and Olivia and craves some kind of closeness, but the canyon between them feels impossible to cross already. Maybe she should have at least tried to talk to Doran.

"I'm Emilia," she says carefully, unsure how else to begin the conversation. Mykel said that Eason would be looking after them in the Capitol, but she can't help but think he doesn't look like the helpful type. Still, any life preserver he can throw her will be well worth the awkwardness. Emilia isn't ready to give up, but she also doesn't know where to start.

"Sure," Eason says with an eye roll. Emilia bites her lip to keep from saying anything further. She doesn't want to burn the bridge with him, but him dismissing her so quickly also isn't going to work. "Anyways, welcome to the shit show. Food will come eventually and try not to bother me. I don't want to be here anymore than you do."

Eason stands up to head back into his room when, surprisingly, Doran stops him. He looks up with tears spilling down his cheeks, his hands still clenched on the table in front of him. "Is that it?"

"What else do you want?" Eason says with a laugh. "I told you everything you need to know."

"You don't even want to try to help us?" Emilia asks, unable to keep the disbelief out of her voice.

Eason sighs loudly and sits back down at the table. He looks from Emilia to Doran, then back again before he finally speaks again. "The best advice I can give you is to stop thinking you have a chance at actually winning."

"We do have a chance," Emilia says immediately because the only other choice would be to burst into tears. Doran's gaze returns to his hands, but Emilia forces herself to hold eye contact with their mentor. She has to believe she can win this or her entire world is going to come crashing down around her.

"You ever heard of Careers?" Eason says, his face blank as he stares back at her. Both of them shake their heads and Eason leans back in his chair, crossing both arms over his chest. "It's a nickname we mentors have given to the volunteers from 1 and 2. Ever wondered why they get so many brave volunteers? They're paid to be here, it's their job. They train back home and then when they're ready they volunteer. You two think you have what it takes to beat them?"

Emilia opens her mouth to say something but closes it again to fight back the tears that threaten to spill out. He has to be lying, she refuses to believe that anyone would actually agree to be here for any amount of money, but he seems too sure of the statements. Eason notices her discomfort and takes the opportunity to head back towards the door he came from, but not before calling to them once more over his shoulder. "Enjoy your stay."

The door slams behind him and Doran buries his face in his hands. Emilia scoots over to sit beside him, not exactly knowing what to say when she feels like doing the same thing. "He's just trying to scare us."

Doran looks up at her, eyes shining with tears that have yet to fall. "Why would he do that?"

"Because he's an ass," Emilia says and Doran offers a small smile in response. "We have a chance. I don't care what he says."

Doran nods softly, staring at his hands again for a moment as he thinks through what she's said. Finally, he looks back at her and he doesn't look quite as heartbroken. Emilia would even go as far as to say he looks maybe a little bit determined. "Someone has to win."

"Exactly," Emilia smiles. "And it's going to be one of us."

Fitzroy Gordon, 15, District 6 Male

When dinner is served, Fitzroy has to admit that it's some of the most delicious food that he's ever tasted. He's always been pretty fortunate when it comes to food because of his adoptive mother's wealth, but that hardly stands up to the buffet spread in front of them. Chiara digs in before the plates even touch the tablecloth, but Fitzroy tries to maintain some dignity even as his stomach grumbles in protest. Today has been the longest day of his life so far and the sun hasn't even set.

As bittersweet as the goodbyes were after he was reaped, they were enough to bring him back from the emotional ledge he had been teetering on. The second his name was called, it was difficult not to feel like his life has been declared basically over. The sheer number of people that came to see him off reminded Fitzroy of the one strength he has over everyone else - he knows how to get people to like him. In a game of kill or be killed, Fitzroy needs to make himself unkillable not through brute strength but through connections. He just needs them to think twice about killing him. Even a second of hesitation could go a long way. It's not perfect but it's something to cling to and, for now, that's all he needs to keep from falling apart.

"This is the best cake I've ever tasted," Fitzroy says, popping a small square bite into his mouth. He's not lying, it's definitely up there, but more so he just wants to get the conversation going again. Malia isn't very talkative, and Chiara is more interested in the meal than either of them. Only their escort, Zephyr, seems excited to talk but funny enough he's the one that Fitzroy couldn't give less of a shit about. He can't see any possible use for the Capitol man, but that doesn't mean he's about to burn that bridge on the first day. He still isn't exactly sure what he's getting himself into in the Capitol and until he does it's important to keep everyone close.

"Mhm," Chiara says, not looking at anyone as she scoops a few onto her plate. Fitzroy tries to catch her eye but she ignores him entirely, making him clench his teeth under his grin.

"I'm surprised we never ran into each other at home," Fitzroy tries again. This time, Chiara looks straight as him as she finished chewing. Her eyes search him for malintent, but he hopes that she doesn't find any. He keeps his expression pleasant but not overbearing, it's all about making her want to talk to him.

"I'm not," Chiara says flatly.

Fitzroy can't help the look of confusion that crosses his face. "I didn't live very far from town, did you ever go there?"

"Yep," Chiara says without glancing back at him. "You look like you came from there."

"Sorry?" Fitzroy asks, taken aback by her flat replies. He can't remember the last time that anyone's spoken to him like this, and it's definitely not something he is willing to get used to.

"No offence, but I'm not really in the mood for talking," Chiara says, pushing away her empty plate and standing from her chair. Fitzroy stands with her, for the first time in a while not knowing exactly what he should be doing. Chiara narrows her eyes at him and quickly asks Malia where she can get some rest, then leaves through a set of thin curtains.

Fitzroy sinks back into the chair as she disappears, trying his best to act unbothered by the situation. He turns his attention to Malia. "I guess she's just tired."

Malia nods politely, placing her own fork down beside her plate. "It's been a long day for both of you. Don't take it too hard."

"Oh, it's nothing," Fitzroy says with a slight shrug.

"Do you have anything you want to ask?" Malia asks. They've already discussed the basics about what will happen once they arrive in the Capitol tomorrow morning, and Fitzroy's mind is already drowning in the new information. Still, it will never hurt to act more invested especially when Chiara seems to be doing the exact opposite.

"General advice?" Fitzroy asks with a shy smile. Malia clearly wants to feel like she's helping and Fitzroy is glad to oblige her. She, at least, doesn't seem to have a vendetta against him already.

Malia thinks about this for a moment as her face darkens, no doubts with thoughts about her own time in the arena. If Fitzroy remembers correctly she won only three years ago so he imagines that the memories are still pretty fresh. Hopefully that means she'll be able to give him some good pointers. "Don't give up on yourself. You'll be shocked at what you're actually capable of."

The way Malia says it makes Fitzroy think she is saying this like it's a bad thing, but it makes his heart slow just a bit. He already knows that he is capable of a lot of great things, but if she's right he might even surprise himself in the coming days. Pressure has always brought out a determination in Fitzroy to rise up to the challenges presented to him. Is it ridiculous to think that the Hunger Games will make him feel the same way?

"I haven't given up," Fitzroy says, thinking for a moment before he continues. It's not always the best idea to badmouth other people, but the way he looks at it Chiara already doesn't like him very much so there isn't much to lose by it. "Not like she has."

"I'm not giving up," Chiara shouts, pushing past the curtain almost as soon as the words have left his lips. Fitzroy tenses, annoyed that she heard him but also trying to tell himself not to care so much. Sure, it would be easier if they could get along but it's not his fault his district partner happens to be the one person without a good sense of judgement. "How dare you say that. You know nothing about me."

"I apologize, I didn't realize you were listening," Fitzroy begins but she doesn't let him finish.

"Do me a favour and shut your pretentious mouth before I do it for you," Chiara spits, her fists clenching at her sides. Zephyr and Malia both stand, ready to jump in if a fight breaks out, but Fitzroy remains sitting. He isn't going to let her think that he is afraid of her. He's never been in an actual fight before but he also doubts they would let Chiara actually hit him. In the arena that will change, but right now he feels pretty safe.

"In the mood to talk after all?" He asks coolly, holding eye contact with her as her faces turns a deep red colour.

"Not to you," Chiara says, turning around and disappearing behind the curtain as quickly as she'd come in. Fitzroy tries to relax back into his chair as the others return to theirs, but he can't help the slight tremble in his fingertips. He came onto the train expecting to make nice with his district partner and mentor, but it looks like there's been a drastic change of plans.

A/N: Hi again. This chapter was pretty fun, not going to lie, as train rides are actually one of my favourite pre-arena chapters. You might have noticed that the tributes feel a bit different here than they did in their pre-reaping chapters and that's because they're now on their way to death central and dealing with that. People might be a bit stressed, angry, frustrated, sad, etc. which will change their inner monologue, outer presentation a little bit. Hopefully that's okay with y'all as it's going to be a continuing theme.

What did you think of these 4 tributes (Levi, Aristona, Emilia, & Fitzroy)?

What is one thing in THG canon that you would wish would have been expanded upon (mine is Career culture formation which is why I've spent so much time on it)?

I will be attempting to update soon because the faster I get through these chapters the faster I can start with the arena which I am HYPE about. If I'm overwhelming y'all with updates just let me know and I can try to slow it down. I won't do daily for sure but like…. Maybe every other or every third day if I can manage? Yeah that doesn't sound awful.

~ Olive