There was one twelve year old and one towering giant from District 11. The boy- Thresh, was it? - Looked like the toughest as far as physicality went.

The screen went in and out of shots, showing very detailed views of all of the district's reapings. The image was so defined one could see the pores on the people's faces. Clove loved watching these types of things but the only exciting thing that had happened so far was this dude named Jason from 6 having to be forced onto the stage. Also, the twelve year old from 11's family started crying when she timidly walked to the podium.

Next was District 12's reaping and Cato audibly scoffed as the camera showed the crowd of pale dressed people. They seemed to have attempted to look decent for the reapings just as everyone else.

"As always, ladies first," the announcers exaggerated movements and voice was getting on Clove's nerves.

"Primrose Everdeen."

Heads turned and the camera paused until it identified the girl by the name of Primrose. It zoomed in on a frightened girl until it had to zoom out again to capture another movement from the crowd. An older girl's voice was cracking as she yelled and struggled against the peacekeepers.

"Holy shit," Cato chuckled, "So they aren't robots."

Clove couldn't help but wonder whether District 12 were the real robots as she watched the display of emotions she'd never seen before.

Brutus has a similar reaction, much to everyone's surprise. "Ladies and Gentlemen, the only person from 12 that has any guts since decades ago."

Clove blinked as she watched the girl downright freak out shouting, "I volunteer, I volunteer!"

It was hasty as if it took a while for her panicked mind to realize that that was the only way for them to let the younger girl go.

"District 12. Too irrelevant. Eat your food; you're too damn skinny. You do realize you're going into the arena in days?" Brutus pointed to Clove's plate of assorted meats and said nothing more. Clove suppressed an incredulous glare at the killer.

"What are you, my father?" was Clove's brave rejoinder.

Brutus' lifeless black eyes bored into her green, and Clove found herself feeling as if someone's hands were wrapped around her throat. There wasn't a hint of kindness in the onyx beads. It made Clove smile coyly for a reason even unknown to her. The look was not foreign, and that mere fact brought a demented smile to Clove's face.

"On second thought, it's good you had no children." Clove clipped. She saw Cato's weary side glance at her, but she couldn't care less if she was acting like an idiot. Maybe she was suffering from No-More-Fucks-To-Give Syndrome.

A fire raged behind the killer's eyes, but Clove didn't even look to see it. Swiveling on her feet, she headed back to the crimson room as a blonde boy steps onto the tribute stage. The girl who volunteered for her sister looked directly at the screen, making Clove stop and looked back. Clove had never seen eyes like that. So full. Of course it was beyond the seventeen year old to know what that girl was thinking. Where had she been going again?

Brutus' scratchy voice intruded her moment; "I know something that would keep you in your goddamn place, little girl."

Clove stalked stiffly out of the two men's' line of sight…and touch.

Clove already had no clue what to do with herself. There was nothing to do but let her brain submerge into her toxic thoughts, but Clove Carnigan couldn't allow that.

Free time was her enemy and she did nothing better than kill.

"Where are you going?" Cato said before Clove could even leave the compartment.

"What we can't leave, explore?" the green eyed Career quirked an eyebrow and smirked.

"I'm sure you can manage to stay in our section until we get to the capital. Just sit tight, is that too hard? This trip isn't to explore."

Clove scoffed and folded her arms over her chest.

"Fuck you." But she went back to her room. She didn't want to encounter anyone on the train anyway. A nagging feeling in the back of her brain said otherwise, though.

The train ride was quick because District 2 was one of the closer districts to the capitol. Cato and Clove were immediately wheeled over to the Remake Centre to be primped to the Capitol's standards.

Clove's prep team squabbled over how dark her under-eye circles were and Clove snapped at them, saying they should try waking up at the time she does every morning. She didn't know why she'd been so defensive. Appearance was never something she worried about unless it was whether her body was in shape for training. Clove was feeling the foreign feeling of insecurity until one woman animatedly raved what a pretty girl she was. The rest were all very quick to agree, much to Clove's surprise. This whole experience was very overwhelming because Clove had never seen people act as all these people do. No one is cold or closed off because they can't get too close with someone they're competing against. She didn't think she'd ever seen such an array of emotions in such a short time before.

People said capitol people were loony, but these people didn't even act human. Plus that District 12 girl must also have problems with the way she was losing it.

"I always knew District 2 was crazy! Waking up at 5:30! Imagine that," one woman squawked.

"That's preposterous"

"Do they even feed you," a technicolored man sighed dramatically, not even expecting an answer from Clove.

"Did you see the boy from 2? What a hunk. Reminds my of my baby Finnick from the 65th games."

"Oh my goodness, you're so right. Clove, dear, you're perfect for insight. What's he like? Victor material? Should we bid on him? Is he charming?"

Clove gave them a warning glare, which shut them up right away to continue putting a coat of black nail polish on her newly cleaned cuticles.

"District 2 girls," Clove heard the man say to one of the woman under his breath.

"At least she's better than the girl with the serpent teeth."

Clove took this as the time to take out her knife that had been given back to her and to start carving people with their heads cut off into the leather dentist chair she sat in.

The group of Capitalists stopped and stared at Clove as if she had 4 eyes.

"On second thought…"

Clove and Cato were standing next to their patriots, clad in their God and Goddess costume. Clove was not a fan by any means of the Capitol's theatrics, but she had to admit that she felt powerful in her armor.

Her stylists really did work magic. When she looked in the mirror, she'd seen a goddess-like improvement to her skin and hair. Her skin was completely clear except for her light freckles across her cheeks and nose. It must have been from that strange paste they put on her face to make it sting. Her hair was shiny, healthy and braided down her back in the most perfect French braid. They both had a matching gold band around their heads like Greek Gods. The material was very high quality but didn't weigh too much. District 1's getup was pretty goofy so Clove let the fact that she was a warrior but had jewelry on slide.

In fact, looking around, most of the costumes were pretty bad as it went down.

They mounted their chariot and began their Opening Ceremony. Clove was just taking it all in when all the sudden the crowd got restless for some reason. Her green eyes flitted to the big screen above her to see what the commotion was about.

"What the hell," she heard Cato say.

District 12's stylist must have eaten their Wheaties this morning because the 12 tribute's costume was nothing short of impressive. Their fire suits were taking the attention completely and District 2's tributes weren't happy.

"At least they were last," Cato spat beside her.

Clove wished she'd known about the fire beforehand so she could have lit those two on fire for real before the parade started.