Rangers.

They are the hunters, we are the rabbits.

Garnet Stone, District One Male.

"You know, Cashmere, I think we could make something special," I smile at Cashmere, who only looks at me with disgust. It's okay, I can work with that. "No need to turn your nose up at it."

"Stick with kids your own age." Cashmere sneers.

"Kids my age are... What's the right word... Stupid."

Cashmere laughs, throwing back her golden curls and showing off her perfect, tanned neck. "As you said. Kids your age are stupid."

She saunters off, a mocking swish in her step. Garnet always gets what he wants. And if it isn't her, then it's Astor. Though, to me, she seems rather rough-cut and flawed. But that's okay, because everyone can become a diamond with a little perfection added to them. I could be the one that sweetens Astor the right way. She notices my look on her, gives a conscious eye to her own outfit, before looking away as if nothing happens. Gloss instantly gives me a wary look over her shoulder, before carrying on talking to her sweetly.

So if not Cashmere or Astor, then that only leaves me with either the girls from Two or Four. Both my age, which makes it easier without the drama.

"You need to get up onto the chariot now," my stylist insists. "Astor will be over in a second."

I give a disgruntled grunt, just because I do not like him whatsoever. As I step up, I can see the jewels glisten and dance underneath the lights of the Remake Centre. My outfits matches Astor's down to a tee, including the colour and jewels. Navy blue this year. Apparently, it's to show royalty and upper class.

My eyes find Theo, the boy from Two, as well as Waverly, the boy from Four. Easy names to remember. Hard to miss the blonde muscle and cocky little fisherman. Both make pointless allies, but of course, nature has to take it's course and that means keeping things like they've always been.

"Move."

I look at Astor as she climbs up, arms crossed over her chest.

"Fiery, I like it," I smirk. "I can work with that."

She looks at me, letting her eyes train up and down my perfect sculpture of a body. "You don't look like you've worked a day in your life."

"I've worked plenty, actually." I counter.

"Sure you have, pretty boy," Astor smiles, and I have no idea whether it's sweet or sarcastic. "Whereas me, I'm from Blackdamp. I know work. I know what it's like to have to fight for your food, work for it, earn it. You look like you were born with a silver spoon in your mouth."

"Is that so?"

"Yes, it is," Astor's smile turns into a cocky smirk. "In fact, I probably insulted your friends, maybe even you, at some point. You never know. Fate can be a bitch, sometimes."

I open my mouth, just as Gloss comes over, smiling sweetly at Astor as if she's the most perfect thing in the world. But he'll have some tough competition, I can give him that. Because I like my girls tough, and Astor is beyond right.

"Everything alright?" Gloss asks, mainly keeping his eyes on Astor.

"Absolutely dandy, thanks."

Delaney Robb, District Two Female.

"Theo?"

Theo turns around, eyes curious but strained underneath the bright lights.

"What, Delaney?"

I pause for a moment, making sure that the pair from One aren't turned around just yet. "Do you trust any of them?"

"Delaney," Theo turns and gives me an infamous smile of his. "We've not even spoke to them yet, so no, not really. Wait until training starts. Then, possibly, we'll find out."

"So smart sometimes," I flirt, running my hand down his arm. "That's why you were chosen this year. Because you're more than brawn."

"Thanks," Theo laughs, taking my hand off his arm. "I'll take that as a compliment. Though you should remember, enemies in here."

I nod, still smirking as I look back to the girl from Four. I know nothing about her, but she seems different to the others. Her reaping was just her, walking up to the stage, miles before her actual chance. She's either that competent or completely stupid. She notices me, giving a little smile and wave, which I have to return as part of the rules. The boys, however, look easy enough to manipulate and twist into doing whatever I say.

"You know, I think you should be the leader," I suddenly say, causing Theo to turn around. "The rest look a little... Different, if you ask me."

"You don't like anyone, though."

I laugh. "I suppose so. I like you though, don't I?"

"Either that or you're just really calculating and have been faking our friendship for the last few months we're been training even harder for this."

"Never," I smile. "Training in a pair is much more exciting. Brings out all these kinds of emotions in a person."

Just then, the doors begin to slowly open, revealing the screams and cheers. The chariot lurches forward, Theo puts on his best smile and extends his hand to wave, whilst I do my best to look completely sweet and innocent. Bright light catches my eyes, but soon enough, it subdues to reveal the crowd practically at my feet.

I snake my hand around Theo's dropped one, linking our fingers. He notices, gives it a look, before carrying on, but not without a little jerk of his head into the direction behind us.

I turn around, just in time to see the pair from Three get into the limelight, and that's when the boy from Three blows me a kiss.

"He blew a kiss at me." I hiss to Theo.

He shrugs his shoulders, smile still great. "Looks like another admirer to the massive list you have already."

"I guess so." I reply, but without conviction as the boy continues to make gushy faces at me.

Addilyn Helix, District Three Female.

I smile shyly, more to myself, just as I hear my name get called out once. I find the source of the voice really easy, a boy at the front who looks not that much older than me. I can't return the smile, or even nod, but he doesn't stop screaming my name as if I'm someone important or famous.

Gage, on the other hand, gets no screams but manages to keep up his tirade of blowing kisses and waving kindly at the girl from Two in front of us.

I don't even need to say anything. Me and Gage are on two different wavelengths. Then again, he never bothered with me much after the reaping. He shook my hand, acted perfect in front of both Wiress and Beetee, but managed to sneer and even eyed me up like a piece of meat afterwards. Definitely a two-sided personality with him, though, he acts accordingly in front of everyone else that matters. But never me. With me, it's the real Gage Anton.

"They'll let me in easily," Gage says to no-one in particular. "Like taking candy from a baby."

I don't respond. Probably not even for me anyway.

"Bunch of idiots. Flutter your eyelashes and they fall to their knees."

The chariot at front soon comes to a stop, reaching the circle. Two slows down as well, followed by us. I wait, suddenly feeling myself awkward and tense between them all. Four pulls up on the other side of me, leaving them on one side and Gage on the other. Three are probably at the most disadvantage of the tributes. Stuck between the Careers, and in my case, a sociopath planning to join the Careers.

President Snow begins to talk. Gage keeps his eye on the girl. Four don't even bother looking at me, and slowly, I feel a bit better.

I wouldn't even know who to ally with, like Wiress and Beetee suggest for us.

The only other kids my age are the boy from Nine and the girl from Ten, neither look like the greatest of allies. No offence to them.

"You know, your reaping was kinda pointless," Gage remarks through a whisper. "You clearly were shadowed by me."

I take a while to reply. "I'm fine with that."

"Sure you are. Won't do you any good, though. To think, when they think of giving their precious money to Three, it'll be for me. The one who actually made an impression and didn't slide away."

I simply look away, choosing not to respond anymore. He's right, of course, I didn't make the needed impact. But besides that, my strengths lie elsewhere. And unlike him, I don't plan on putting all my cards on the table. Makes you more exposed.

President Snow clears up his speak, and slowly, the chariots roll out of the circle, back to the Remake Centre. The minute we're under the exposed lighting, and Beetee shows up, Gage lightly rubs my shoulder and sighs almost pitifully.

"She done brilliantly, Beetee, a true fighter."

"Wonderful."

Waverly Pond, District Four Male.

I jump off the chariot, not even waiting for Lorelei to move forward much. She turns around just as my feet hit the ground, smiling and shaking her head as she heads off to Mags, waiting proudly. My eyes find Finnick, storming over with a stomp in his step.

The moment he gets close, his fist flies out, punching me.

"You idiot!"

"What the hell?" I retort. "Dude, that's not cool. I need to keep in shape, not be bruised and battered!"

"Do you have any idea what you are actually doing?" Finnick pinches the bridge of his nose. "It's not a party, Wave. You saw what I went through last year. You should know better."

"But that's the point, man, you got so much from it. The minute your name is said in class, I can hear the girls swooning. You're a self-proclaimed hero," I throw my hands in the air, laughing loudly. "And besides, you made it look so easy with your net and trident, just spearing the suckers like fish in a barrel."

"I had training. I had an advantage. Shouting that your my friend kinda hints you trained with me. That we know similar stuff. They know what to expect, Wave!"

I take the news in, shrugging my shoulders afterwards. "No biggie. Makes me look a threat, actually."

"It doesn't," Finnick sighs deeply. "It makes you a walking target."

"I'll get sponsors!"

"Which isn't enough to stay alive!"

"But you got a trident!"

"Because I had skills hidden! Don't you see? You've gone and placed everything you know, every skill, every tiny little detail about yourself on show, exposed, when it should have stayed hidden for a surprise. You have nothing under your sleeve anymore, Wave." Finnick's voice breaks at the end, ever so slightly.

My breath catches, but I manage to pull it back. "I'll learn something new in training. Find a new skill that I can use."

He sighs again, running his hand down his face. "Try man, just please, do it."

"No sweat," I laugh, patting Finnick on the back. "As I mentioned, I'm your friend, I'm basically Victor already."

Jack Ampere, District Five Male.

Cameron's quick to slam her finger into the button for the elevator, clearly wanting to go up. When it doesn't arrive quick enough, she punches the button a few times, expecting the thing to travel a lot faster. Cordelia and Cable disappeared rather early, possibly tired, leaving just us left.

"Stupid elevator," Cameron grunts. "I just want to go upstairs, get something to eat and go to bed. Is that so wrong to ask?"

"Who you talking too?"

She spins around, eyebrows knitted together. "Ugh, forget about it, might as well talk to myself instead. Not that you're a great conversationalist."

"That's not very nice."

"Yeah, well, sometimes I can be not very nice," Cameron rolls her eyes as she turns around, punching the button again. "I hate this clothing. Seriously making me itch."

"I didn't need to know that."

"Well, tough luck."

The elevator dings, just as the doors open up and Cameron slides in angrily, punching the button before I've even got in. I jump the gap, standing next to her as she repeatedly hits the button again and again. Soon enough, they close, and the mechanical whirl goes as he rise.

"We're gonna end up being allies, you know?" Cameron suddenly says. "I doubt anyone else would want to be with me. Or you, for that matter."

I pause, pursing my lips. "I don't want an ally, actually."

"Alone?" Cameron drawls out the word. "Really?"

"Yes, really, why, is something wrong with that?"

Cameron shrugs. "No, of course not. But no offence, but you don't exactly seem the type to either pull in sponsors or be able to handle something as near threatening like a sword."

My eyes turn from placid to glares within seconds, but Cameron doesn't seem fazed. "So, you're basically saying I'm ugly and weak?"

"When you put it like that, it sounds mean," Cameron runs a hand through her hair. "But basically, yeah."

"Thanks a lot Cameron, you'd make a perfect Victor in coaching your tributes with confidence."

The doors slide open, another ding, but I quickly disappear into the Five floor, leaving Cameron behind, though I know she'd be heading over to the kitchen as we speak. How dare she. I mean, I don't need anyone. No-one. I can do it all perfectly on my own without being dragged down by someone. Her criticism is not wanted. Never wanted. But as I quickly go to my bedroom, I hear her laugh, repeating the conversation to Cable sat on the couch.

Allies... Like I need them. I can do this all by myself.

Karli Hudson, District Six Female.

The moment I wake up in the morning, I climb out of bed, stretching my arms. The day looks perfect. Then, with a flick of a switch on the remote, it turns into a starry night once more. Anything you want at the touch of a button. Honestly, that's one of the few perks about this place.

"Karli, time to get up!"

"I'm already up!" I move to the door, swinging it open to reveal our escort, Fabriola. "I said, I'm already up, Fabriola."

"I can see that now. Behind a closed door, anything can happen."

I smirk, waggling my eyebrows. "Like behind your door? You and Track getting it on?"

She pulls a face of disgust, walking down the hall to bang down Gavan's door. You hear a shuffle, before Fabriola practically forces herself through the door with a grunt. I hear her gasp, before finding myself running along the carpeted floors to peer into Gavan's bedroom.

"Whoa."

Gavan stands there, pretty much half-naked apart from boxers and t-shirt, pressed against the wall staring wide-eyed at Fabriola. But that's not even the interesting part. The bed is cleared, bedding rolled around on the floor in a perfect shape. It's pressed down on each corner, at a perfect angle, pillows fluffed. It almost looks like a made bed, just on the floor rather than a mattress.

"Gavan, why is your bedding on the floor?"

I can see the Adam's apple in his throat bob up and down, but apart from that, he acts casual. As if it isn't important. "The bed has pointy edges. So I slept on the floor."

He rushes over, suddenly not so self-conscious, scooping up the bedroom and laying it down on his bed. He takes his time, tucking in the corners and smoothing it out constantly, repeatedly, ensuring a single tuft is nowhere in sight. Fabriola tells him someone else will clean it, but he doesn't listen, muttering to himself about "neat" as he continues.

"You know, I think Gavan has a little problem there. And I'm not talking about the bedding, if you get what I mean." I laugh, nudging Fabriola in the side.

Her face is stony, as she places her hands on my shoulders and leads me away. "Not the time, Karli."

Soon enough, a bit through breakfast, Gavan appears, dressed and constantly running his hands over the fabric of the clothes handed to him. Polo smirks as he takes a seat, opting for the sppon to cut through his meal once more.

"Sleep well, Gavan?" Polo tilts her head mockingly.

"It was fine, thanks," Gavan takes a small chunk and chews a few times before swallowing. "Floor was a bit hard."

I burst out laughing, just as Polo continues her devilish smile at him. "The floor?"

"Lets not talk about it!" Fabriola cuts in abruptly. "Lets enjoy breakfast before they go, shall we?"

Tauria Copin, District Seven Female.

"I hope you two have so much fun down there!" Olivander chirps, smiling at the table. "I would come escort you both, but you seem capable enough!"

"I wouldn't want you there anyway," Timber replies with an edge to his voice. "Just me and Tauria is bad enough."

I eye Timber up as I walk to the elevator, knowing his eyes are trained on me the whole way. The elevator opens and quietly, we step in. But this time when I look at Timber, the anger and constant darkness in his eyes are gone, replaced by a vulnerability I've never quite seen before.

"You know, insulting our escort is a dangerous thing," I remark through the silence. Timber doesn't look at me, though. "I mean, if you think about it, Olivander, Blight and Mona are our last connections to the real world until someone wins."

"Sorry."

My head snaps in his direction, but Timber keeps his eyes anywhere but mine. He shuffles awkwardly, moving just a little bit away from me, as if suddenly scared of me or something. I move to put my hand on him, but he flinches, just as the door opens, blinding light catching our attention. Timber quickly exits, head bowed down, whilst I walk out pretty calm. Everyone else is in the same position as me, so would I should I act scared? No. Gotta be positive.

As we stand in our circle, Timber metres away from me, I take my time to look at my competitors. The Careers, as per usual, look frightening. Five look like they're arguing with each other quietly, hushed, angry whispers. The girl from Six keeps a placid smile, her partner, looking jittery and conscious at every other person.

The only tributes who aren't here yet seem to be the pair from Eleven, I can't find the little boy from Nine, nor the girl from Eight.

"My name is Atala, your head trainer. Now, the rules are pretty simple if you ask me. Four tributes to a station at a time. No fighting amongst yourselves, that's what the trainers are for. I suggest you try out as many stations as possible, rather than just weapons or survivals. Take a look at our opponents, but don't lose focus. You can unleash yourself in a few days when you're in the arena, not my training centre."

Everyone seems to understand, and before I know it, everyone scatters off in their direction.

I wait around, as if expecting Timber to come towards me, but he doesn't. His evil grin returns and he saunters off to a station with axes and hatchets.

I could try survival. I mean, it could be beneficial. But then again, survivals aren't exactly a way to protect yourself when in the arena. You need weapons. Just then, the doors to an elevator open, revealing the pair from Eleven. The girl, Zaira I think, makes her way over to Atala to be scolded, before gingerly making her way over to a station with a collection of daggers and also the girl from Two.

"Her," I say to myself. "I could be with her. Yeah. Okay, come on Tauria, you can do this."

Stitch Hill, District Eight Male.

"Lets go to this one, Stitch," Mirana beams, skipping ahead to a station that has nothing but vine and some sticks. "Stitch, come on!"

Reluctantly, I cross the floor, keeping my eyes on all the others that seem to be interested in me of all the others. Nobody really stands out too much if they're not Careers. Though, surprisingly, the boy from Three already has his claws in the boy from Four, talking and joking, no doubt getting his acceptance with the rest of the neanderthals. Mirana flips a piece of red hair, before handing me a piece of vine.

"We could always do skipping!"

"I don't think that's the idea, Mirana," I say carefully. "I think you need to make traps with it."

Her smile turns into a pout, before a frown appears. "But I don't want to hurt people."

I feel like calling her idiot, saying that it's kinda stupid to feel like that in a place when twenty-three others, including myself, are waiting for her blood to be spilt so they can return home. But I don't. No, I keep my mouth closed, let my lips turn into a small smile, and gently rub a circle on her shoulder comfortingly.

"No-one does, but hey, tell the rest of them that."

Mirana's smile returns, collecting her little pocket watch from around her neck and giving it another, tiny kiss. I look away, unable to handle Mirana's personality, when my eyes catch the boy from One heading over to the sword station. He swings it around, rather carelessly, before driving it into the white dummy and gaining an applause from the trainer.

"Mirana, I'm going to go try a weapon out, okay?"

But I doubt she gets my words. She mutters something, absorbed into her pocket watch and mumbles, so I just leave her. I don't even want an alliance with anyone, to be truthful. Me being on my own will be enough for me, I think.

I head on other to the sword station, ignoring the glare from the boy from One as I pick up a sword. Lighter and thinner than his, but it does the job. I give it a poor swing, which gains a snort from One, before I drive it into the other dummy. I'm not even showing off. But if he can do it, so can I.

Come to think of it, that was easy. Maybe a sword is my best choice. Dangerous, threatening and quite a good advantage.

"You're pathetic," One sneers. "Thinking you can handle a sword like a pro."

He walks away, but I'm not discouraged. Mirana spins, finally, giving me a little wave as I drive the sword into the material again. I'm practically full of glee when I realise that this, this sword, could work for me.

Yep. This could be amazing.

Koel Spelt, District Nine Male.

I watch Fern, carefully from behind a station, as she picks up a knife and inspects it closely. Then, she drops it, glaring right in my direction.

"Seriously, are you trying to piss me off even more?"

Standing up, I smile. "I have no idea what you mean, Fern."

"Yes, yes you do," Fern glares. "Go away, you annoying little cockroach. You're just pushing yourself further and further up my list, you know."

"You did tell me to sleep with one eye open and you never came in," I retort with a smirk. "And I was waiting for you, with one eye open."

"Good," Fern picks the knife up again. "Because you better learn to keep doing that. I'll strike when you least expect."

"You don't scare me."

"Oh, but I should," Fern runs her finger along the blade, smiling a little evil. "My list is huge. So many people, so little time. Pushing yourself up further is just a bad thing, Koel. I don't let anyone get one over on me. No-one gets away with doing something to me and walking away, unharmed."

I stare Fern down, watching her movements and her smile, even her eyes, which glint underneath the lights. She places the knife back down, steps around, and comes closer to me without a word.

"You know Castor, right?" Fern speaks in a whisper. "I've already got my payback on him. Right now, as we speak, he should be coming across all the jam and marmalade I put underneath his pillows."

I can't fight back the laugh that erupts, but as people look, Fern keeps her glare in tact. She smiles once more, walking away and straightening out her clothes as she disappears off to the fire-making station where the pair from Five are, still arguing like they were earlier. The best thing I do have, luckily, is I'm quite small and stealthy. No-one knew I was there, right there with them all. I've spied on them all.

A little clap and applause rings out, and when I turn around, not far from me, the boy from Eleven is poised with a bow, his arrow embedded just a few metres from the middle of his target. He could be a good ally. Alto, I think his name is.

Slowly, I'll make my way over. I go back to the knife that Fern left, picking it up and inspecting it myself. It has teeth on one side, like a shark I've seen in books. Bit by bit, I skip the stations, watching each tribute and getting closer and closer to Alto.

Jam and marmalade.

I smile, ducking behind another station. And when Fern goes to bed tonight, she'll find a similar present underneath her pillow.

Samia Carson, District Ten Female.

"Chord, can you help me?"

He looks at me, offers a kind smile, then helps me wrap the knot around and around until it's tight enough. I like Chord. He's kind, gentle, but he does have a bit of a naughty side to him. He couldn't resist singing in the shower this morning, and then, when Lucky asked him to be quite, he just started to scream the lyrics to a poem out of tune and obnoxiously. Then, that girl from Nine came over, and Chord pull me a little closer and kept me away from her.

"You know, Sami, I think it should just be us two."

I look at him, blinking a few times. "Pardon?"

"Allies," Chord laughs. "I don't really want to go out and try talking to any of these. I don't think they'll like me too much, and well, people my own age tend to hate me for my attitude. And also, I want to make sure you're not on your own in there. So, what do you say?"

Tears begin to gloss my eyes, and quickly, Chord wipes one away with his finger.

"I'm gonna take that as a yes."

I laugh, nodding my head. "Yes. Thank you, Chord, for everything."

"Don't sweat it. I'm sure if roles were reversed, you would have done the same thing," Chord ties up his knot pretty easily. "Well, I hope you would have."

I play around with my knot some more, just enjoying the sense of calm you get when being around Chord sometimes. Although, he does have a split personality, I think. With me, he acts differently than he does when Lucky, Buttercup or Harmonica are around. He's kind, calm, serene and protective. With them, he's a bit loud, bubbly, joking and showing off his spirit. But either way, Chord is Chord, and that's great.

"How about we try some weapons?" Chord asks, putting his knot back on the table.

I nod, not quite sure what I can actually do. But instantly, I smile, as Chord leads me over to a specialist station.

"Excuse me?" Chord asks the trainer. "Do you have a lasso?"

"A lasso?"

"Indeed," Chord smirks. "Can we have two?"

The trainer furrows his eyebrows, but ducks underneath the station to reveal two, rope made lassos that look like the owns back at home, on the farm. Chord grips his, smiles, and leads me over to a group of dummies.

"Ready Sami? Lets bring some District Ten to this boring place."

Zaira Havlin, District Eleven Female.

"Hi there," I look up, noticing the girl from Seven, standing just a little too close for comfort. "I'm sorry, this is going to sound so rude no doubt, but do you feel like being allies?"

She stands there, smiling with her arms crossed over her stomach. I look around her, just in time to see Alto score once again with his arrow, gaining another applause from the trainer teaching him. And her partner, he's not far away from them, swirling an axe.

"I'm okay for the moment," I say politely. "Sorry."

"That's fine, I'm okay with it," Seven smiles again. "I'm Tauria, by the way."

Tauria sits down next to me, taking some rope into her hand and quickly trying to fashion a knot. Each time, she looks at mine and then the trainers, constantly making sure her's is just as good, possibly even better. She seems nice, laughing lightly when she makes a mistake and shrugging the failure off. But I'm not really looking for allies. Maybe when I realise that I need it, but for now, on day one, that's off-limits. Alto hasn't made any allies yet, though the boy from Nine slides closer and closer, thinking he's hidden, like a chameleon, ever-changing.

"I know you said no allies, but do you think I could just stay here? I don't exactly want to spend any time with Timber, since he's acting weird."

I nod, but really, it doesn't bother me too much. "If you really want to."

"You should smile some more," Tauria knocks her shoulder into mine. "You have a pretty smile. I saw it briefly during the chariot ceremony. It's pretty."

What is her game? "Possibly."

"No need to act tough around me, I'm fine if you just want to cry or something."

"Why do you think I want to cry?" I say, just a little bit too defensively. "Do I look like I want to cry right now?"

Tauria shrugs. "Not now, no. But you do look a little... Awkward, no offence, only a little bit. More sad, I guess."

I pick up the little rope in front of me, playing with it through my fingers. My heart beats just a little bit faster, and I guess, I do look awkward sometimes. I must look awkward now. Slowly, I look back at Tauria, who only offers that comforting smile once more that screams optimism.

"As I said, you can do what you want around me," Tauria stands up. "I'm fine with whatever."

She holds out her hand, but I get up by myself, deciding that even though she says that, my walls need to stay put in place. Tauria points towards some axes, still smiling.

"Why don't we try that? I'll show you how to hold one."

Tauria begins to walk off, and for some reason, my feet begin to move after her.

Ashton Myers, District Twelve Male.

"Ashton Myers. You behave yourself right now!" Pashmina scolds, pointing her finger at me.

I roll her eyes, which she notices, gasping and jerking her finger more into my direction.

"Are you trying to poke my eyes out?" I hold out my hands, absolutely peeved. "Because you're doing a good job with your freaky long nails."

Pashmina gasps again. "You need to learn to not be so rude!"

"Whatever," I wave the comment off. "Go bug Anastasia or something and leave me alone."

"Anastasia, unlike you, has some manners at the very least and not a complete animal," Pashmina stops, running a hand through her hair and sighing. "Okay, so you're going to need a lot more work compared to Anastasia. It's okay. I suppose I can help make you even the slightest bit of a human."

"At least I have a personality that doesn't resemble cardboard." I retort as I walk back to the dining room.

Pashmina follows, still at a loss. "I have no idea what I'm going to do with you."

Soon enough, perfect timing, Anastasia walks into the room, her face a little uncertain, as if she's intruding on some special moment between me and the airhead sociopath. She sits down after Pashmina ushers her too, still looking like a timid mouse in the midst of a feline. I watch Anastasia wiggle underneath the glare, before laughing a little.

"What's so funny, Ashton?" Pashmina snaps.

"Besides you, absolutely nothing," I smile the comment away. "I can't wait to get back down there tomorrow. Will be such a treat to get some allies at the very least."

"Do you have someone, Anastasia?" Pashmina asks, snapping a dirty look in my direction before letting her face fall placid as she looks at Ana.

"The girl from Six," Anastasia shrugs. "Karli. She seems nice enough."

"Nice enough."

"Ashton, be quiet," Pashmina hisses. "If you think so, good for you. I hope she looks good, at the very least. An ugly tribute will only bring you down, lovely."

"Because in this environment, skills and weapons mean nothing clearly," I cut in, until Pashmina gives me that same look like she always does. "Just voicing my opinion."

"Maybe it's not wanted."

Anastasia just simply nods, still being her mousy-self, until dinner arrives. Haymitch is nowhere to be seen, no doubt drowning his sorrows in alcohol and unconsciousness. Pashmina ushers us over, as if we're idiots, before sitting down herself on the far end of the table away from us. Anastasia sends me a funny look, but I can't help but smile as I dig up a hand full of food and stuff it into my mouth.

Pashmina pulls a face, Anastasia shrinks into her seat, and I laugh.

Should definitely be interesting indeed.

Rangers by A Fine Frenzy.

The blog for this story is - glasshousehungergames . blogspot. com - just take out the spaces.

I need to keep track of the votes, who votes and who didn't. To do that, it needs to be in one place. Allies are up on the blog. Find out your tribute's allies, if they have any, but please, try to keep it all incognito so it's not obvious about what tribute yours is. I'm trying to keep things secret and subtle. :)

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10 Points -

5 Points -

No vote can be for your tribute.

However, I still choose the victor myself. Points don't decide it, but simply help in knowing what the tributes final place should be in the Games and how things play out for them in the terms of relationship, death, friendship and camera time!

If you don't want to vote or leave some criticism or thoughts, that's fine, just don't be upset when I kill your tribute early.

Same Pre-Games format as always. Same design as always. Gosh, I'm boring. Keep up with your reviews! Every review gives points to your tribute.