Tala POV:
"Sit down," Finnick says casually after we are ushered onto the train. I do as he says and wait for Channing to follow suit. He doesn't.
"I prefer standing," he huffs with an air of smugness. I can't imagine why he's acting like this but I decide to ignore it.
"Fine." Finnick snaps, clearly less than thrilled about Channing's attitude. The doors of the train open and I watch in astonishment as Annie, and then Maggie hobble through the opening.
"What's going on?" I hear myself ask as my eyes flash from the small eighty year old woman and the hysteric looking young girl. Surely not all of them would be making the trip and naturally the one person who would be joining us is Finnick. I mean Mags just won her Games because she was great at feeding herself, and Annie just won because she out swam the others.
"We're all going. We all want to be there for this year. We think that District Four has a real shot at another champ this round," he explains in a low voice. My eyes go straight to Channing and secretly I agree with Finnick. Channing is pure lean muscle, and believe it or not, he's not completely brain dead. I lowered my head in defeat and began to study the not-so intricate pattern on my black high heels.
"He means you ya know," Annie said in her jittery, frantic way. I waited for Channing to reply but all I heard was silence. I cautiously raised my head to find Channing staring at me in shock and I gave a little start as the train began to move.
"Her? Her?" he demanded. His facial expression was a comical mix of amusement and anger.
"Yes. Her," Finnick said in a dangerously calm voice.
When Channing finally turned to glare at me with unmasked disgust I let a small grin transform my features.
"She'll die the first day," he grunted.
"Promises, promises," I lolled happily. I couldn't believe that they had seen something in me. Something they hadn't seen in Channing. I couldn't place what it was at first, then I looked down at my barley there dress and supposedly killer legs. Oh. So that's it.
The train was silent for a heartbeat until Channing asked with apparent enthusiasm to watch the other Reaping's. I didn't want to see the other twenty-three people I would be put into an arena with and forced to slaughter, or of course be slaughtered by; but I knew it would be better to get it over with.
As Finnick popped in the tape I let my nails bite into my palm and had to mentally remind myself to keep my eyes open. District's 1 and 2 had Careers, no shock there. However I was surprised that District one had a boy with a bad leg. There was a frumpy boy from three and a smallish girl. Then I was forced to relive my own Reaping as I stumbled forward to save a girl I obviously had no relation to. I flinched as I watched myself blow a kiss to the screen and hoped I didn't come off as cocky. That's really the last thing I was.
"Nice touch," Annie said positively. It didn't sound like sarcasm so why did it make me fidget in embarrassment? I knew what would happen as soon as I stepped foot on Capitol soil. I would become the untouchable sex kitten that pranced around for the amusement of others. I bet they'd all faint if they knew I was just about as pure as the twelve year old I volunteered to save . . . well maybe not quite that innocent. An easily overlooked boy and a girl that reminded me of a fox came from five. District 6 held nothing special.
"Wow. A lot of young ones this year," Finnick sighed in displeasure. I watched as a small girl was selected for District 7.
"Small but not young…" I corrected Finnick vaguely as I studied the girl closely. She had creamy, dark skin and couldn't be more than five' five. Something in the set of her jaw told me that despite her size she would be trouble. Her entire body was rigid with determination and unlike the boy who was just picked, she would not cry. I tried to tear my eyes from her face but with little success. I just kept noticing how her eyes were like a mirror of mine except for the obvious anger and pain stored there. The freckles scattered across her nose made her look girlish which for some might counteract her history etched eyes.
Mags was saying something next to me which I think contained the word "blink." So I opened and closed my eyes a few times and sent a perceptibly fake smile in that direction. I let out a small gasp when I felt my nail prick my palm. I watched as the droplets of blood trickled down my hand and looked around desperately for something to wipe it off with.
"Not even in the Games yet and has already managed to harm herself," Finnick says in astonishment.
"Bathroom is down the hall," Dica says in her strange far away voice; I gave a little start as she entered the room. I had never seen her up close before and was shocked by how young she appeared to be. I noticed how her white hair was very intentionally that color and her dark roots showed clearly. Her overly full lips were painted in a color that I would roughly associate with the dirty sand I see daily. I could tell it was coordinated to meet her semi-gold suit but when it comes to realistic fashion I think it is fair to say that Dica failed epically.
"Thanks," I muttered as I breezed past her. The train was rattling and it threw me easily from side to side as I tried to maneuver myself through the narrow hallway.
"Shit," I cursed as I was thrown into the wall. I straightened myself with an air of impatience and opened the door I had just reached. I twisted the shiny white silver faucet and put my hand cautiously under the ice cold water. I watched as it turned pink and flowed down the drain. It was a small cut, nothing to fret about but I need the distraction.
"You're missing it!" Channing called mockingly from the other room. I rolled my eyes and splashed some of the ice water on to my face before reluctantly returning.
As I repositioned myself on the lavish cherry colored couch Finnick let out a small grunt of disgust.
"Oh no," I breathed. District 11's Reapings were being recapped and a fresh wave of tears sprung to my eyes as a small girl with ashen skin was chosen. I puzzled over her unusual name, Rue, for a moment and then gave a small snort of laughter. The boy from that Districts name was Thresh. Who names a kid Thresh? Finnick and Annie eyed me skeptically and I shrugged, turning my attention back to the screen. They were probably more upset about my water filled eyes then my laughter.
Whoa. Thresh was nothing to laugh about. My heart began to pound with more emotions then any one person should have at a given time; fear, shock, grief, and most overwhelmingly lust. He could easily be a Career with his broad, muscular build and grave walk that made him look lethal, not to mention sexy. Thresh had hair dark as night, skin that matched mine except it would be much more closely related to beautiful, smooth copper, and eyes that even through the TV could make me melt. It was that feature that left me feeling certain he would not be a Career. I became even more confident in this thought as those gorgeous brown eyes flashed to the young girl beside him; showing what looked to be regret. Oh and now I felt it to. How could I kill someone as faultless as him? Or someone as young as her?
Rianne's POV:
For a while…the train ride was uneventful to say the least. I had slept through most of it. I tried to recount my day dreams and figure out a decent strategy for the Games. I had been having nightmares of brutal killings and starving in the desert. God, I hoped I didn't starve. I remembered one Hunger Games where that had happened. It was boring and a major disappointment for the Capitol. Who wants to see that when you watch kids fight to the death instead? What excitement…again I felt that intense anger and groaned out in pain. I woke up when I felt the train lurch/ I looked up and saw Mallard staring down at me.
"Dinner's here," he said simply. I nodded and pushed myself to sit up. It was the first time I had really looked around the room in the train. It was completely decked out in plush, lavish furniture. Nicer than any room back in District 7 by far. I liked it but then I remembered that it was cause of the Capitol never did anything on a low scale but no matter how much I tried to hate it I couldn't. Especially the bed, it was the most glamorous bed I'd slept on since I stopped sleeping in a crib. I got up and followed him to a dining room. Liza Higgins is there and beside her: Johanna Mason. She's beautiful but has a hard look about her. Something I can relate to. She looks us over and ushers us over. She won a few years back by pretending to be a weakling so she wouldn't be a target, then she picked off the other tributes one by one. I could appreciate that approach.
"Let's talk strategy." She got straight to the point while Mallard and I filled our plates with the rich, steamy food of the Capitol.
"I don't really know right now I'm just focused on not dying," I said dryly.
"So you can't really do anything?" she asked with a smirk.
I grabbed a butter knife and buttered my bread. As she opened her mouth to speak I flung it at her. It whizzed past her, grazing her ear and lodged itself in-between two wooden panels; all in the blink of an eye.
"I don't know," I grinned. "You tell me." She smirked back.
"Interesting. Let's play on you being an average but defenseless girl who was too loyal to let her own family volunteer for her. I nodded in agreement. She was a mastermind. Johanna turned to Mallard.
"I already know about you." She had an evil glint in her eye. "Let's milk the little boy thing." Mallard grinned; dimples making him look adorable, innocent, even handsome for his age. He took after his mother with green eyes, black hair, and sharp features. We ate nervously, trying to scarf down whatever we could lay a hand on. The food was so delicious yet so rich it made me queasy. I grimaced.
We were then instructed to watch the other Reapings and check the competition out, along with some tapes of previous winners (like Johanna herself) just to get a feel of what we'll be up against. I looked at the bulky boys and girls from the Career districts. A cripple in 10, a twelve year old girl that looked so fragile and small from 11, and two girls who volunteered in Districts 4, &12. And then there was him. Wow! It was the only word I could wrap my mind around in that instant. He was lean, and tan, and God was he sexy. With striking blue eyes that looked so clear it was like looking into a pond, and dirty blond hair that was nicely coiffed. It moved as he moved and God did he move. His walk hinted at a confidence and aggressiveness that was probably hidden beneath the surface. The girl in his District had volunteered for her sister. It was an honorable thing to do. She was pretty and looked strong enough. She would be competition. But the way he looked at her. It was a hopeless look, yet it contained love. Damn.
The other girl who volunteered didn't stand in the place of a family member; it was probably just some random neighbor. Shewas gorgeous, she would be competition but for a different reason. She could seduce the most faithful of men and make them fall to their knees. With wavy hair like, silk falling down past her shoulder, jet black like a midnightsky it perfectly framed her heart shaped face and brought out the intoxicating color of her hazel eyes. Long legs, slender curves, and all around perfection made me look that much more like a child in the presence of her unimaginable sex appeal. With her near me I would have no problem portraying a child, at least physically. People would kill to look like her. I wish I looked like that. I mean people said I was pretty but she could have any man she wanted. When she blew a kiss to the camera men all over Panem probably cried, for they knew she was as good as dead.
"Wonder what her angle is, huh?" Johanna said, sarcasm laced in every syllable.
"Yep…too bad we have to kill her," Mallard said with undisguised longing. I raised an eyebrow.
"Yeah too bad."