Probably my only update for a few days. Maybe even a week. I realized I haven't gotten to introduce too many tributes...is the story going too slow?

District One Train

Radiance sat, her knees tucked under her chin. Her fingers picked at a stray fiber on her loose-fitting pants. The unmistakable pitches of the escort, and the calm replies from the tributes echoed past her door. She ignored them, they could do without her presence for a while.

Her door swung open, and she opened her blue eyes a bit, just enough to make out Odyssey's profile.

"Not bedtime, why are you curled up in bed?" He opened the curtains, letting in the bright afternoon sun. Purple mountains swept past, reminding Radiance they were just a short distance from the Capitol.

Radiance wet her lips, "I can't go talk to them right now." She pressed her hands together, hoping he would just leave her alone. Couldn't he tell she didn't want company?

"Sulking doesn't change who's in the games." He picked up a pitcher off the night stand, pouring a tall glass. "Here, you haven't drunk enough today."
Her fingers clasped the crystal, "I don't want to talk to her, to encourage, or whatever I'm supposed to do with her."

Odyssey's eyes darkened, "So you want to be a failure as a mentor? To treat your friend like you don't care about her anymore?"

Her brows furrowed, "No, I just don't want to celebrate her, whatever, you know. She's probably going to die, and I'm kind of mad." She took a long drink of the water, realizing it was her first all day.

"Radiance," Odyssey bowed his head, looking into her face, "This may be Silk's last week on earth. You claim to be her friend, yet want to continue holding a grudge against her? Think she'll go into the arena regarding you still as her friend? Yeah, she disregarded your advice, but is that a reason to punish her last moments with you?"

She sucked in her breath, "I'm not punishing her."

"Than what are you doing? Enjoying feeling sorry for yourself, pondering how to ignore your childhood best friend for an entire week, while still claiming to be her mentor? Or are you going to throw that job away, just so her chances of living are that much slimmer?"

Radiance now scowled, sitting up straighter, "Are you really trying to make me feel worse?"

Odyssey stood up straight, "I don't know, maybe you can figure it out." He pulled his hands from his pockets, heading out towards the hall.

"Odyssey," Radiance's voice cut him short, his hand resting on the door knob, "Where are you going?"

"To the dining car, see how our tributes are doing."

Radiance pulled her feet from the bed, sliding her toes into her sandals. "Wait, I'm coming with you."

District 3 Train

Ruby studied the boy, noticing how his cheeks were still wet. He had probably just managed to stop crying. "I'm sorry," she mumbled, "Promise I won't kill you when we get into the games."

The boy's eyes lit up slightly, a friendly smile passing over his face. Ruby managed a smile, "Looks like both of us had tough luck, huh?"

He nodded, but remained silent. Ruby picked at her fingernails, "Our district always has the lousiest luck. I doubt Bernard even tried to bring us home anymore." The train car remained silent, and Ruby wondered if her partner hated talking.

She glanced his direction. "I always wanted to be an inventor, what about you?"

The boy shifted in his seat, and Ruby again peered into his face. His eyes were bright, large brown things. He covered his mouth, and shook his head, waving his free hand at her. Ruby stared at him. "Why don't you just talk to me?"

He shook his head, his eyes pleading with her. "You can't talk?"

He nodded, a relieved looking pouring over his face. Ruby sighed, "You could have just said something." Her cheeks reddened, realizing, that no he couldn't say anything.

"So, I think I heard your name, was," Ruby scrambled to recall. "It started with a 'P', right?"

The boy nodded. Ruby brushed at her blonde hair, wondering how old he was. He looked thirteen, maybe younger.

"Why don't I just call you P?" He nodded. "Are you, what, 13?"

He smiled, showing his crooked teeth, shaking his head.

"You're older?" A nod. "14?" He shook his head again, "15?" He nodded enthusiastically.

Ruby had trouble believing he could be that old. "Well, I'm only three years older than you. You know my name?"

He nodded. "Do you give people sign names?" Another affirmative smile. Boy, this kid was the cheeriest person she's ever been around. "So what's mine?"

He studied her, his fingers playing with his curly brown hair. His eyes lit up, and he ran his thumbs over his nails. He repeated the motion, making certain she was watching.

"I do play with my fingernails a lot," Ruby couldn't help grinning.

The doors swung open, and Bernard stepped through. He scowled, looking both of them up and down. "I'm your mentor, if you haven't figured that out. The escort said your names were Peltier and Ruby." He rubbed at his neck. "Would say it was nice to meet you, but I really can't."

Ruby glanced at Peltier, wondering how the rough mentor would treat him. "Peltier can't talk, I think he's mute."

Bernard nearly choked, "You've got to be kidding me." He slapped his lap, "Why do I even bother introducing myself as your mentor?"

Ruby frowned, "P's really nice. He can communicate, he just can't make noise."

Bernard sent her an icy glare. "Peltier," The boy looked openly at the mentor, "You look like a nice kid and all, but I have to tell you, your chances are minimal."

"Why?" Ruby protested, "He can fight, he just can't talk." She crossed her arms, irritation visible on her face.

Peltier wished Ruby wouldn't try to stand up for him. He understood why the mentor felt the way he did. It was easy to view his situation as hopeless.

"Ruby," Bernard let out a long breath, "Please don't argue with me. While I do pity the kid, the sponsors won't ever view him in that way. And as soon as we come to terms with that, the better able we'll be to focus on your own playing and winning the game."

Ruby's lips twisted, "Is this how you treated Pixelle last year? Or that other boy, Teddy? As nothing but cannon fodder?"
Bernard shook his head, "Look, I give each tribute a chance. But I'm also honest. I thought Pixelle had a slight chance, I trained them both. But I've never seen a person with disabilities make it past day one in the games. Ok? I don't expect our district to be the first. Has Three ever been the first in anything?"

Peltier stood, wishing he wasn't the subject of their argument. He smiled at Ruby, hoping she sees that he appreciated her concern. Ruby didn't return his smile, she was too focused on arguing with Bernard. Nodding at Bernard, he stepped away, heading towards his room.

He cringed, hearing Bernard continue to encourage Ruby not to waste her energy helping him out. It wasn't like Peltier wasn't used to being ignored, even being bullied. But to know that his mentor had already written him off as dead. A small part of him wanted to resist, even yearned to live. But reason screamed that he was going to die. Should he accept death so easily?

The Capitol

He clicked the silver spoon against the porcelain, watching the sugar dissolve into the green liquid. Touching it to his lips, he inhaled the rich flavor. "Excellent choice, Fenia," President Theopholis Snow nodded towards his personal assistant, "This brew is rather soothing. Has Hadrian arrived yet?"

Fenia nodded, "He's waiting just outside. Are you ready for him?"

Snow waved his hand, "Yes, send him in. And you can wait outside, please." The assistant stepped towards the door, her footsteps dissolving into the thick carpet.

Snow stirred in another spoonful of sugar, wondering what sort of person Hadrian was up close and personal. Most broadcasters annoyed him, they were an entirely self-absorbed bunch. But at least they kept the masses sidetracked.

The doors opened, and Hadrian walked through. He paused, and Snow noticed his hesitation. He set his tea cup down, the glass clinking sharply.

"Welcome, Hadrian. So good of you to come."

The young man swallowed, "Thank you, Mr. President. The invination was an honor."

Snow smiled, beckoning him forwards, "Please, sit. I know for certain these chairs are comfortable." A few steps, and Hadrian was reclining in front of him.

"I must say, in the last year, I have become quite a fan of your morning show."

A look of surprise crossed the young man's face. "Well, thank you. I didn't expect you would watch it, it's nothing really."

Snow smiled, "You have a talent, your show is more than mere drabble. Sometimes I wonder how Flickerman discovered you."

Hadrian's cheeks reddened, "It was an accident; I never intended to be in front of the cameras."

"Perhaps that is why you are so good at what you do." He picked up his tea, sipping at the hot liquid.

"Oh, Mr. President, please. I'm just doing my job. There are dozens of other excellent broadcasters."

Snow nearly choked. Was this young man truly so humble? "Hadrian, don't underestimate yourself. Since you began, more viewers have started voting, more citizens have written their Senators. Your political commentaries are really spicing up things here in the Capitol."

A strange look filled Hadrian's blue eyes. "Truly, Mr. President?"

"Indeed," He set his teacup down. "Even I have become interested in various causes through your show. You constantly interview politicians, you make them feel relatable, as though the common man can truly influence the direction of Panem."

It was clear that the subject made Hadrian uncomfortable. He shifted in his seat, rubbing at his knees. "That is really high praise, sir."

Snow smiled. "You have more influence than you realize." He briefly pondered why it made the young personality nervous.

Hadrian shrugged slightly, his eyes catching Snow's look for a short moment. "If it weren't for Flickerman, I'd still be delivering coffee. He's made me all that I am."

Such humility. Snow couldn't help but wonder how it ever developed in a Capitol citizen. "Because I see such talent in you, Hadrian, I am enlisting your help."

The boy's eyebrows furrowed, "My help sir?"

"Yes. You see, there are whispers, just whispers, of treason against Panem. Seeds have been planted, thoughts of rebellion against the system."

Hadrian inhaled, his face becoming taut. "Like the events in District Seven?"

"Exactly," Snow smiled, grateful Hadrian had brains about his head, "I need your ears. You interview, converse one could say, with my victors. You see their, more hidden, thoughts. I want you to study how they truly feel concerning the games. And where those feelings may be driving them."

"Why don't you ask Flickerman? He's known them for years more than me."

"Flickerman is too full of himself. He doesn't care about the future of the country. I see in you a young man who cares how his country fares, is that not so?"

A small nod. Snow continued, "Just keep an eye out in your studios, and then come chat with me. Share any concerns you have, that is all."

Hadrian blinked, rubbing at the back of his neck. "I understand, sir."

Snow picked up hi spoon, again stirring his tea. "Very good, you are dismissed."

Outside the President's study, Hadrian struggled not to vomit. Yes, he cared about Panem. But did his cares mirror those of the President? He seriously doubted their ideas were even remotely similar. He cursed himself for not telling the President no, for refusing to cooperate.

"Hadrian," he muttered to himself, "You are a coward." He stepped out of the building, his stomach twisting at the posters for this year's Hunger Games. "This city is full of cowards." He spat at the ground. "And I am the worst one."

My brain's fried thinking of questions, so just leave a lovely review. Thanks!

A slight problem...I can't find any of the PM's for District 12's male tribute. I have his name written down, but I don't know who sent him in. If you sent in Oliver Hendricks, please message me his form again. Thanks!