Well, here it is-the official beginning to our story! See if you can catch the references to characters who will not be appearing in this story. Not that they're hard to find. You'll get to know a couple of the tributes a little better, and maybe have a few laughs in this chapter. Enjoy it while you can-the story will take a darker turn in the next few chapters.

"This alone, you're in time for the show;

You're the one that I need, I'm the one that you loathe.

You can watch me corrode like a beast in repose,

'Cause I love all the poison, and away with the boys in the band."

-My Chemical Romance, "The Sharpest Lives".

Reality was beginning to set in. Each couple stood awkwardly apart, having just arrived in the training area, distrustful glances filling the air with electricity. Hand in hand, some of them whispered together. Everyone knew what they were supposed to be doing, but none of them wanted to break the silence, the strange tension that made the atmosphere nearly palpable. And that was when it happened. Slowly, slowly, a small blond boy broke from the ranks, and began to walk towards the equipment, a trembling, frightened-looking creature following him. The pair walked over to the knot-tying station, and with a small smile to each other, began expertly tying the rope into intricate tangles that looked strong enough to hold the weight of several men.

With the spell broken, people began to shift, quietly heading off to different stations. But the albino hung back as he watched his blond 'lover' head for the camouflage station. Of course, Vash wasn't nearly stupid enough to head straight for the weapons he knew best. Better to observe, just as Gilbert was doing. However, his eyes, a strange crimson color-so hued because of a mutation in his genes, the same one that had turned his hair shockingly white-were trained on the children that had relieved the rest of them from the burden of going first. They were hardly old enough to be in the Games! Were they really in a relationship, or was it simply some cruel joke by the Capitol? He frowned slightly and stepped forward, making his way casually over to the tots, grinning in a friendly manner as he knelt beside them.

"So I take it you're from District Four then? No one can tie knots like the Fours can." His voice was light; after all, he wasn't trying to trick them; there would be no need. The young ones never lasted very long. If he was lucky, he wouldn't even have to be the one to have to finish them off. They didn't seem to pose much of a threat to Vash or himself-not that people hadn't been surprised by such young tributes in the Games before...

"Yeah, we're from District Four! Where else would we be from? Knot-tying is kid stuff back at home...I knew how to tie a knot before I could walk! At least, that's what Mama Cresta told me anyway, isn't that right, Raivis?"

The boy that had spoken was loud, a little blond with a bright, confident face and shine in his eyes that spoke of boundless hope and belief. However, the boy beside him was nearly the exact opposite. He trembled, and jumped at the mention of his name, darting vaguely lavender colored eyes to glance nervously at the newcomer, nearly tangling his own fingers in his knot in his haste to nod rapidly and go back to being ignored. Gilbert had seen those types before; the kid had obviously been abused, and though he didn't speak a word, his anxious demeanor spoke volumes about the severity of it. With the faintest hint of a frown, Gilbert turned his eyes back to one that had spoken before.

"I see...how clever of you. What's your name, kid? And why do you call her Mama Cresta? Isn't that your real mother?"

A little of the joy in the boy's face disappeared, and he glanced at Raivis, then shrugged some.

"I'm Peter, and this is Raivis. He's my boyfriend...I guess. I promised to take care of him, and I don't really like any girls, so we're just kind of sticking together, you know? Mama Cresta...well, she's the only mother I've ever known. From what she says, though, she's my real Mama's older sister, or something. My mom killed herself before I was old enough to really know her-apparently, she'd always been really unstable, and only got worse after Dad. My dad died before I was born, so Mama Cresta raised me up. And Raivis-well, he fell in with us a few years ago. He doesn't talk much, but..."

Peter glanced at the boy, who was focused so intently on the knot he was working on that he seemed to be unaware anyone was speaking of him. In a whisper, Peter continued, frowning slightly.

"He used to have an older brother, yeah? A real whiz with technology, not really cut out for the fisherman's life. The word is he used to get wasted, and take out all his anger on Raivis-he couldn't be happy, so why should anyone else be? Half-killed him one night, and would've too if the Peacekeepers hadn't heard all the screaming. Needless to say, they got him out quick. Not quick enough, though, I think." He grimaced, tapping his head lightly and forcing a slight tremor into his hands. Gilbert merely nodded, running his pale digits lightly through his own pale hair.

"Damn...that's rough, kid. Think you'll be alright once the Games start?"

The blond laughed, holding up a few of his knots. "As long as we've got rope, me and Raivis can get through anything!"

Gilbert chuckled, standing and ruffling the boy's hair before turning away with a slight grimace. "Keep that attitude, Peter. I'm Gilbert, by the way-if you need a little assistance, give a yell. I'm pretty damn awesome myself." With a light wave, he moved off.

Without glancing at his partner, Vash worked the paint uncertainly across his skin as Gilbert rejoined him. "Don't get too attached." He muttered, frowning at the unsatisfactory mottled appearance his flesh was taking on. The albino merely shrugged some, pressing his fingertips into the black paint and beginning to press it to his face.

"I was just getting to know the opposition, loverboy."

Something like a growl came from the smaller man, but he merely reached for another color. "If you say so. Anything useful?"

Gilbert turned to the blond, leaning casually against the rack of paints, a triangular nose now painted over his own, along with whiskers extending over his pallid cheeks. "Only that if they don't find some rope fast, they'll both die within the first few days."

Vash glanced up at him, a disapproving look touching at his features. "Can't you take anything seriously?"

"What? This is me being serious."

"God help us."

Gilbert wrinkled his feline nose and shrugged lightly. "Loosen up some. You're not worried about this camouflage stuff anyway. I know you already know how to do it like a pro."

A light shrug. It was true, though. Vash had been practicing with camouflage for years-this terrible paint job he was doing on himself was nowhere near his actual skill level. He was watching the other tributes, glancing up now and then in the mirror, but never to check his own reflection. "They don't know that."

"Well, they will if you keep staring so intently at them. You're terribly obvious."

"W-what? I am not!"

"Really? Because if you hadn't been staring so hard across the room, you might have noticed what I painted on your face roughly five minutes ago."

Vash's eyes immediately darted to his own reflection, lips parting in surprise as he was greeted with a large smiley face on his left cheek, appearing on his right in the mirror. "W...when did you..."

"If you'd have been paying attention you would have known." Without warning, the albino reached over and drew a large heart on the man's right cheek, wrapping his arms around him to do so.

"W-why you-! Get off of me!"

"Is that any way to treat your lover?"

"You heard me!"

"Aww, but snookum-Ow!"

Gilbert rubbed the side of his face, smearing his whiskers as he pouted on the floor, gazing up at the furiously blushing blonde. "Now keep your damn hands off me, you pervert!"

But people were staring; Vash could feel their eyes. And so with a light sigh, he stiffly held his hand out to the albino. "...at least while we're in public...darling." He averted his eyes to keep from having to see the smug grin on the other's face, merely breathing a soft sigh of relief as he heard the other tributes slowly go back to the tasks they were working at.

"Fuck, Vash-you've really got to work on that." Gilbert was right beside him in the mirror, carefully dabbing his whiskers back on over the already-developing bruise. Despite all his bravado, Gilbert was actually rather fragile-an unexpected consequence of his mutated genes. The look of regret in Vash's expression would be all the apology he got, naturally-he expected nothing more from the man.

"Yeah, yeah. Just...don't surprise me like that."

"A little spontaneity is good for the heart."

"Not if it gives you a heart attack."

Gilbert parted his lips to respond, but training was up for the day. Vash wiped the paint from his skin while the albino proudly marched out, whiskers and all. They made their way to their room, and Gilbert burst out laughing.

"What's so...oh no."

One bed occupied the room, and Gilbert shrugged, already making his way towards it. "What's the big deal? We had to share a bed back at my place!" His shirt came off, tossed carelessly in a random direction.

Vash groaned. "Can't you let a room stay clean for five minutes? It's no wonder your place was trashed!"

"Don't get your panties in a wad, toots! This is Capitol-level luxury. Someone will pick it up, wash it, and fold it nice and neat, so well even you won't be able to complain about it!"

With a slight shake of his head, Vash turned off the lights and wondered idly if they could make it to the Games without one of them ending up strangled to death in the night.

That's it for Chapter One!

I hope it was worth forcing yourself through the Prologue to get here.

As always, I'd love to hear any input you may have. Chapter Two is coming right around the corner.