District 8

Kat sat in the dining hall, head rested on her arms, crossed over the table in front of her. Slader sat across from her, leaned back in his chair with one leg swinging to the floor while the other was propped in the chair. His elbow was propped on his knee and his eyes were trained on the girl's. Corda came into the room, and paused, staring confused at their intense staring match. "What are-"

"Sh!" They shushed together, not looking away.

Corda made an offended noise and snaped. "I don't know what the two of you are-"

"SH!" They insisted. Corda gave another noise. They felt the train slow and then come to a stop, and Slader said, "We're in Eight? It's about time!"

Kat smirked and said, "Seven and Eight are farther apart because of the expanse of forest around Seven. Don't you pay attention in Geography?"

"Ha! You're funny!" Slader threw back his head in laughter, then jerked forward and shouted, "Dang it!"

Kat laughed and threw her hands up in victory, shouting, "Ha! I win!"

"Glad you're finished," Corda pouted. "Now can we go?"

"Someone woke up on the wrong side of the train," Kat laughed, standing and stretching. "What' up?"

"So many things," Corda grumbled, turning and stomping out.

Slader rolled his eyes. "Girls."

"What?" Kat glared. "What's that suppose to mean?"

"Nothing!" Slader proclaimed innocently, bolting quickly out of the dining cart.

Kat gasped and shouted, "You liar!" before chasing after him.

~District Eight~

Slader's face was set into a deep frown as he and Kat walked down the streets of District Eight. "Slader, why do you look like you're trying to think?"

"Oh, haha," Slader replied sarcastically. He cocked his head, and watched a man walk quickly by, turning and walking backwards so he could watch him all the way down the street.

"What are you doing!" Kat hissed, grabbing his shoulder and spinning him around. "Don't stare like that!"

"Have you seen those things they wear on their shoulders?"

"You mean their signs?"

"Their what?"

Kat rolled her eyes. "Do you pay attention at all in school?"

"Hm, you are funny."

Kat gave her eyes another roll. "District Eight is the only district with a hierarchie. There are eight classes: Dark green cloth means Spumae: Those With No Class, dark blue signs mean Contione Linea Operarius, dark red signs mean Obediebdo Machina Gubernatrix, orange signs mean Viatores, the really nice light red signs mean Imperans Machina Gubernatrix, Venaliciums wear white signs, Excogitatoris wear purple, Dominis wear golden signs, and Praefectus Urbanus are the mayor and his family. They wear grey."

"You pay way to much time in school," Slader shook her head.

"I wanna get an interview from each class, I think that would be pretty cool, don't you?"

"No," Slader grumbled. "I want some food."

"You just ate like, ten minutes ago, remember?"

"What about the victors?" Slader wondered suddenly.

"You are not going to mooch off of the victors! We'll stop by a restaurant in the square or something."

"I'm not talking about food!" Slader laughed. "I'm talking about that hierarchy thing you were yapping about earlier."

"So you were listening to me talk!"

"I mean, it's obviously based on how rich you are, and the victors are filthy rich, even more than the mayor, so shouldn't they have a class above the...what did you call it? Perfect Urban?"

"Slader! The victors are a completely different species. They don't have a class! And it's Preafectus Urbanus!" Kat snapped.

"That doesn't sound like English," Slader said thoughtfully. "Does District Eight have its own language, too?"

"Slader," the young Capitol girl sighed, rolling her eyes.

"What do they call it? District Eightish?"

"It's Latin, you ditz!" Kat snapped, smacking his arm. Then after she had had a few seconds to cool off she said, "District Eightish? That's the best you got?"

"What the crud is Latin?" Slader wondered.

"You really need to pay more attention in school."

Slader groaned and complained, "You sound like my mom!"

~District Eight Square~

"Get your food, and I'm going to go find a bathroom," Kat told her companion before leaving him to his own devices and she went off in search of a restroom.

Slader laughed and made his way to the front counter. He sat at a stool and wave over a tall, dark-haired boy, who had been tampering with the cash register. The boy made his way reluctantly over, and Slader gave him a curious look. "What are you doing?"

The boy looked wide-eyed at him and in a panic said, "What are you talking about?"

"Do you know what you're doing with that cash register?" Slader wondered innocently. "Cause it sure doesn't look like you do."

"It's password protected," the boy told him, smiling sheepishly, "and I can't remember the password."

"Then ask someone who does," he suggested.

The boy shook hi head vigorously. "No! I think I remember now, actually!"

"Mm hm, well, it still wouldn't hurt to ask. Here, let's ask her!" and he spun in his seat and caught the arm of a passing waitress. "Excuse me, but he forgot the password to the cash register, you don't happen to know what it is do you?"

The girl looked confused and stared at the boy behind the counter, who stared back wide-eyed. "Hey! You don't work here!" She snapped. The boy flushed and streaked out of the restaurant and the girl called for Peacekeepers.

Slader laughed and murmured, "I thought so."

The girl came back with a large sigh and said, "I'm terribly sorry. Do you need someone to get your order?"

"That would be nice." Slader grinned charmingly, but the older girl showed no interest.

Instead she called across the building, "Denim! Costumer!"

Then the girl was gone and replaced by a younger blond boy wearing a too-loose, red shirt, with long sleeves, black slacks under a waiter's apron, and a goofy smile. On one hand he balanced a tray full of empty bowls. "One second," he told Slader, coming around the counter and putting the tray though a small, flap covered opening in the wall, shouting, "Dishes!"

Then he turned back around to Slader and said, "Hi! I'm Denim and I'll be your server today! We are offering turkey in sandwich form or soup form. I'm supposed to suggest sandwich form because if we don't sell those the bread's going to go bad, but, honestly, I suggest soup, it's good for warming you up!"

"Thanks for the suggestion, I'll take the soup."

"Excellent choice, now what would you like to drink? Cheap drink is water, but if you're willing to pay the extra money, we have some hot chocolate."

"I'll pay the extra." Slader grinned. "Bring two cups. I have a friend who might want some."

"Alright then, I'll be right back." With that the boy swept away through the door to the kitchen, leaving Slader wracking his brain, trying to remember what Kat had said the white sign that he had seen on the boy's shoulder meant.

"Did you get your food?" Kat wondered, coming up to sit beside him.

"Yeah, the guy's going to bring it back out. Hey, what did you say white signs mean?"

"Venalicium, its the marketers class so anyone working in the square will be wearing one."

"Oh." The boy reemerged carrying two cups of steaming, coco colored liquid. He set one down in front of each of them and then went wide-eyed at the sight of Kat. "Whoa! Kat Snow!" he said excitedly, but still rather quietly. "I figured you were Capitol from your hair but I never thought you would be traveling with President Snow's great-granddaughter!"

"Yeah, its a blast," Slader replied sarcastically, earning a stinging slap on the arm from the pink-haired girl.

"I'm Denim!" the boy introduced brightly.

"Denim!"

Denim pouted as he was motioned over to the other side of the restaurant by a customer, and said, "Hold that thought."

When he was gone, Kat laughed. "Wow, he's the first District kid who's acted like its cool to see me."

"Yeah," Slader snorted, "I'm willing to bet he secretly trains for the Hunger Games, too."

Kat gave his shoulder another smack. They sat and drank in silence, and Denim brought out Slader's soup.

"I think I'm going to go talk to that Dominus woman over there."

"So what are the two of you doing here in Eight?" Denim wondered a few moment after Kat left, coming back around the counter.

"Kat's doing some project for journalism or something like that, anyways she's going to all of the districts and interviewing them about the quarter quell and what not, and I got dragged along because her grandpa Snow thought it would be a great idea to send me to keep her company, even though he knows the two of us fight like cats and dogs."

"I guess that makes you the dog then?" Denim smirked.

Slader frowned and thought a moment. "I don't understand."

Denim laughed and said, "She's Kat, so that makes you the dog..."

"Dude...just...just no."

Denim gave another laugh and took Slader's empty bowl, sliding it into the kitchen and shouting, "Dishes!" Then he turned back to Slader and said, "Well, just a word of friendly advice: Look out for Atra Bayo. She's a bit loony, and she likes testing Capitolites."

"Thanks for the advice," Slader offered, finishing his drink and handing it over to the boy, along with his money. "Keep the change."

Kat fell into stride beside him and asked, "So what did he say?"

"I'd like to reopen the Victor class discussion," Slader changed the subject. Kat rolled her eyes and moved to walk in front of him as he said, "I mean, come on!"

~Bayo Household~

"All I'm saying is: if everybody else has a place in this district, why don't the most important? The victors?"

Kat rolled her eyes and she trudged along the sidewalk in front of the fire-haired boy. "They do have a place, they teach these peoples' children the best way to survive in the Hunger Games once a year, and sometimes help them to bring glory and riches to the district. Now would you drop the subject?"

"That's sounds sort of rude when you say it like that," someone pointed out. Kat jumped in surprise and came to a dead halt, nearly walking straight into a large, blond boy, wearing a large, dark coat and blue jeans.

"-Even the dirt poor people get a class, come o-oof!" Slader, who had not been paying attention, walked right into his travel partner, nearly knocking her off her feet, and knocking him on his butt. "Don't do that!"

"Do what?" Kat demanded.

"Stop all of a sudden like that!" Slader pouted, still sitting on the sidewalk.

"Well, I'm sorry!" Kat snapped. "Maybe if you would watch where you're going!"

"May I ask who the two of you are?" The large boy cut in, holding a hand out to Slader, who gladly excepted the help.

"Kat Snow," Kat introduced, "and this is...Slader Gorge. My travel baggage."

"And you thought what she said before was rude." Slader laughed at his own joke.

The boy's bright blue eyes lit up slightly. "You're a true spit-fire aren't you? Aren't the two of you cold wandering around out here?"

"Freezing," Slader agreed, shivering as though for emphasis. Kat shook her head at the boy.

"How about you come inside and warm up a bit?" The boy offered. The kids looked to each other and then nodded, following the boy down a walkway to a large house. "So what brings the two of you all the way out to our little old district? Since I'm assuming you're both Capitolites."

"School project," Kat replied, showing her recorder. "I'm interviewing people from every district and then putting it together as a presentation for class."

"Sounds interesting." The boy bobbed his head thoughtfully.

"It's really not," Slader informed him, tugging off his own coat. Then he added, "I'm gonna pretend to be sick the day she presents."

The boy chuckled. "Didn't know Capitol kids were so much like District kids."

"Yeah. Well, the fact that we live for watching twenty-three kids die every year gives us a slightly inhuman image," Kat grinned, jokingly.

"Definitely," the boy sighed, seemingly relieved that they understood.

Kat looked taken aback, and Slader paused in his quest to hang his coat from a too-tall rack, to stare at the boy. "Dude...you so weren't supposed to agree."

"It's fine," Kat smiled. "I get it."

"You know, you could interview me and my sister if you like," the boy offered.

"You mean my sister and I," Kat corrected.

"I thought the other kid was a guy..." he looked confused.

"Slader is a he," Kat replied uncertainly.

"But you said you and your sister."

"No, I was-Alright you know what? Forget I said anything. I would be happy to interview you and your sister."

"Oh, cool, Atra's downstairs in her lab. She'll be happy to see the two of you. She quite fascinated with Capitols," the boy explained, heading for a staircase. "Oh, and I'm Siri, by the way!"

Slader grabbed her arm and stopped her whispering, "Kat, I don't think this is a good idea."

"Why not?"

"I met a guy at that restaurant in the square who said we should watch out for a girl named Atra. He said she was a tad bit insane!"

Kat rolled her eyes. "You're being paranoid," She informed him, tugging her arm away and heading for the stairs.

"Kat!" Slader cried, bounding to catch up to her, but she was already on the narrow staircase, no room for him to get in front of her. So instead, he used the entire walk to try and talk the girl back up the stairs, but fell silent when they reached the bottom.

Atra's lab looked very similar to that of a mad scientist. It was mostly dark, save for the lamps set up over the various tables, strewn with papers or bubbling substances, or the lamps creating a green glow, which hung over a variety of plants along one wall. Varies contraptions lay around the room that looked very much like death traps. Other supplies were strewn across tables, or lying discarded on the floor; blindfolds, cartons of matches, earmuffs, and he occasional knife, some of which looked as though they had come in contact with blood and had never been wiped clean.

Atra herself, or the girl that they could only assume was Atra, was a small girl, with white-blond hair pulled up into a tight bun. She was dressed in a long white coat and jeans. She was seated on the floor beside one of her devices, playing with a thin wire. Slader nudged Kat and gave her a shocked look, and she understood why. A white bandage stretched across the girls eyes, seemingly leaving her sightless, she was using her hands as a guide to the ins and out of the contraption. Kat shrugged.

"Where's your dress," Siri wondered, strolling over to where she was working, and leaning in to observe. "Odd not seeing you wearing it."

"This floor is quite filthy, and I didn't want to get it dirty. Besides, Mrs. Thread is paying me to test the durability of her lab coats before they ship them off to District Three. Now who are our guests?" Atra's voice was cool, calculating. It gave the Capitol children chills.

"Capitol children. Their traveling the districts for a school project," Siri told her, helping her to her feet.

"I'm Kat," Kat introduced, "And this is Slader."

"I've always thought the Capitol gave its children odd names," Atra said thoughtfully. "I'm Atra."

"We guessed," Slader grumbled, then began to say something else, but Kat elbowed him harshly to stop him.

"It's nice to meet you Atra," Kat amended.

"A shame I can't say likewise."

"What happened to your eyes?" Slader wondered. "Did you get burned or something?"

"No. I stabbed them, now are we done with story time?"

Kat felt sick. "You what?"

"Stabbed them, you know, with a knife," she sounded slightly annoyed, but her voice remained at its cool level.

"Why," Slader exclaimed.

"I was curious." Atra replied simply. "Since you're going to stand their asking stupid question, how about you make yourself useful in the process?" She wondered. She had moved to one of her tables and was collecting her strewn knives.

"How?" Kat wondered uncertainly.

"I have an experiment I've been wanting to perform, and the two of you are prime candidates for subjects."

"Right, well, I don't like being a test dummy, and besides that, we have to meet our escort in the square in ten minutes," Kat replied, pretending to check her watch.

"The squares a ten minute walk from here," Siri informed.

"Which is why we will be running," Kat responded. Slader gave his head a vigorous nod in agreement, and the two turned and raced up the stairs.

Atra tapped her desk irritably. "I want them for my test. Siri, take me out, I need to convince them to come back."

"Atra," Siri sighed. "That's not a good idea. That was Katalina Snow, the president's great-granddaughter. If something happened to her here, the entire district could get into major trouble."

"I don't necessarily care about the districts well-being," Atra countered, but her brother could not be moved, so she sighed and conceded, "but if you really don't want me to, I suppose I won't, but next time I'm presented with such an excellent opportunity, I will not be passing it up so easily."

"Fair enough."

~District Eight Square~

The two children came to a stop, breathing heavily. "Alright, Slader!" Kat gasped. "Next time you say its a bad idea I'll believe you!"

Slader responded by collapsing on the ground. Kat followed him, and they sat on the sidewalk, leaning against each other and trying to catch their breath.

Carda came strolling down the street, seemingly in a much better mood. She looked and them and inquired, "What are the two of you doing? Get off of the ground its dirty!"

"Don't really care," Kat gasped. "Just ran a few blocks and now I'm tired."

"Why would you do that?" Cora wondered.

"Crazy mad scientist!" Slader answered. The boy staggered to his feet and helped up Kat. "Come on, lets go to the other side of the district and see what we find there."

"Can I come?" Corda squeaked excitedly.

"Sure, as long as you're in a better mood than you were this morning," Kat replied, taking the lead. "I want to find the mayor's house. Do either of you know where he lives?"

"He on the edge of town that way," a passing boy told them politely, pointing past the bakery on the opposite side of the square. "He doesn't like being around the Domini Villige. He's scared of Atra...everyone is."

"I know why," Slader grumbled.

"Who is Atra?" Corda wondered as they began their walk to the Mayor's house.

"A crazy girl," Slader replied. Corda waited expectantly for more, but Slader offered no more.

So instead she asked. "Is Domini what they call their victors?"

Kat groaned as Slader gave a victorious, "Ha! So I'm not the only one who didn't know about the hierarchy!"

~District Eight Mayor Eithel's residence~

Mayor Thread Eithel was a frail man, with a nearly transparent layer of grey hair and kind brown eyes. He reminded Kat very much of a raisin with his shriveled skin, and he made several jokes about the similarity himself. The mayor had become wheelchair bound mere days before Shimmer came through eight for his victory tour. Corda, who is normally the District 1 escort, admitted that it had been quite the surprise to see him that way when they arrived for their visit to eight.

"I don't know why ever not!" Mayor Eithel smiled. "I'm an old man, it was bound to happen sooner or later!"

"Do you plan on retiring and letting a new mayor take over?" Kat wondered.

"Of course I am! My grandson's going to take over. Just got the paper work back in yesterday. It's all planned out for three days from now. Will you all still be here then?"

"We most certainly will!" Corda squealed excitedly. "Oh I've never seen a real live inauguration before!"

"Glad to oblige," he old man laughed.

"Why not your son?" Slader, who was standing over by a large, oak bookshelf, wondered.

"My son is dead, dear boy," the man answered sadly.

Slader looked guilty and apologized, "I'm sorry, I didn't-"

"Its quite alright. That was years ago! The baby doesn't even remember them anymore!"

"Both of their parents died?" Kat wondered.

"Yeah, fire got loose at the bakery. Five were killed, including the baker and two of his kids. That's a far sadder story than mine." The man smiled.

"How old is your grandson?"

"Nineteen! I got bad just in time, he only recently got clear of the hunger games. You can see how it would be a problem if he became mayor then went off to the Capitol to either die, or become a victor and have to take on a whole new job!"

"I can see where that would be problematic," Kat laughed. "So instead of standing out in the crowd this year, your son get to sit on the stage."

"Pretty ironic, huh?" The mayor chuckled, then began a coughing fit. Once he had stopped he said, "My apologies."

"It's quite alright!" Corda waved it off. "It's not like you help.

"Grandpa!" A small blond girl called excitedly, bounding in. She spun to show off her dress and cried, "Look!" The dress was made of a dark grey silk, fitted tight at the top, with a one shoulder, thick strap, and a dark grey belt made of a lighter grey silk. In the front, on the left, was a rose made of sheer material of various shades of the grey. The skirt flared, made mostly of the same dark grey as the top, but strips of various other shades danced across its surface brilliantly.

"Wow!" The old man gasped, motioning her closer. "Where did you get this?"

"Steven made it for me!" She replied excitedly.

"Its marvelous!" He smiled fondly. "Of course anything that boy makes is marvelous. That's why he got promoted so high!"

"Who's Steven?"

"Steven Feldman!" The old mayor gave them shocked looks. "Why, haven't you heard of him? He's the current most famous boy in District 8! He works wonders with silk. One of the very few people who have ever jumped from the CLO class all the way to the Excogitatoris!"

"So he's a designer?" Kat wondered. "That's interesting. Do you know where I can find him?"

"Why, he's probably in the factory, working. He works over in the material factory. Thousand Ways, is what its called. You can't miss it!"

"Thank you," Kat smiled standing, "and thanks for your time, I will see you and your grandson's inauguration then?"

"Well, I'll certainly be there," the man laughed.

"Are you coming, Corda?" Kat wondered, looking to her escort as Slader caught up to her at the door.

Corda blinked at her in momentary confusion, then said, "Oh no! I'll stay here if that's alright!"

Kat shrugged. "Hey, I won't tell you what to do," then she turned and left behind Slader with a cheerful goodbye from the little girl.

~Thousand Ways Factory: District 12~

Kat sat on a table in the large factory, watching as a boy only a couple of years older than herself, work. Work for him, was designing, a fascinating job consider only fifteen people in the entire district did it and most of them were adults.

he had a large piece of light green silk laid out across a table and was pulling other rolls of the fabric off of the shelf and laying them against it. Currently he was testing a pink spread. He crinkled his nose at it and mumble something about watermelons before replacing his back on the wall.

Slader, who had quickly grown bored with watching him, and was now examining the large expanse of fabrics on the wall, said, "So what is it that you're doing exactly?"

"The Capitol escort for District Eight wishes to have a lime green color scheme for this years game, so I'm trying to find the perfect secondary color. Unfortunately, lime green is a rather tricky color to match," the boy replied. He was staring up at the shelves calculatingly, then he looked over at Slader and said, "I advise that you stand back, its quite possible that you'll get hit in the head standing there."

Slader did as the boy suggested as he began to climb onto the shelves. He made his way halfway up the wall of fabric, and tried gently slip out a roll of yellow. It didn't budge. So he tried again, with the same effect. He frowned and looked down. Kat thought he looked as though he were weighing his options. Then, he gave the fabric a hard tug, and it jerk out suddenly, nearly causing the boy to loose his grip on the shelf and go tumbling backwards off of the wall, but he kept his balance, and barely managed to keep his grip on the roll. He stared down at the ground, with the same calculating look he had presented before he had given Slader his warning, then seemed to decide that he couldn't hold the fabric and climb down, but he couldn't drop it either, without busting the plastic roll within, so instead, he balanced it atop his head, and began a very careful climb down the shelves. Once he was close enough to the bottom he dropped the roll of fabric, and climbed swiftly down the rest of the way.

"Wow," Kat admired. "That was pretty impressive."

"Not really," he shrugged modestly, then sighed as he examined the yellow with the green. "Too much bright. What a waste." He put it to the floor and stood glaring at his main theme, muttering under his breath. Then, suddenly, he snapped his fingers and cried, "I've got it!" He took off at a run down the wall of fabrics, and came back moments later with a roll of crimson fabric. He laid it against the green and grinned triumphantly. "Perfect! It doesn't clash with the gree, and it mellows out the color without completely shutting down its vibrancy, and it doesn't make it look like a fruit!"

Slader cocked his head and stared hard at the two fabrics, then gave it a shake and said, "Yeah, I have no idea where you got all that from, but okay!"

The boy laughed and said, "I hate to sound rude, but I think I missed your names. Of course I already know yours," he gestured to Kat, "but I'm not sure of yours."

"This is Slader," Kat told him.

"Nice to meet you. I'm Steven. Steven Feldman," he offered a hand.

Kat accepted it with a laugh and said, "Yeah, we know. You introduced yourself earlier."

"Oh," he blushed, scratching the back of his head. "Oops."

"It's cool," Kat grinned. "So you're sort of famous here in District Eight."

"People just get over excited about someone getting a good promotion," Steven replied modestly. He had climbed atop the table and was now seated on his knees, carefully measuring the fabrics with a tape measurer he had pulled from the pocket of his black slacks. He looked rather curious, with his dark shirt loaded down with cloths pins which were also pinned up in his short, dark brown hair, making it stick up at odd angles.

"I saw the dress you made for the mayor's granddaughter. It was amazing," Kat told him. "You're a big deal because you are amazing and extremely young."

"I'm fourteen," Steven told her. "Not seven."

"Fourteen's still pretty young."

"...I need a manikin," he mumbled to himself, sitting back. He looked around thoughtfully, then raised a hand and called, "Excuse me!"

A person who was passing through an open door with a large burden in their hand, froze. He motioned the person towards him, and they made a slow ascent in their direction.

The new comer turned out to be a girl with a long, graceful ponytail, carrying a large sewing machine. An orange sign stood out promptly on her left shoulder, right above a large symbol of an envelope. She wore a dark blue, button up shirt and a plain white skirt. "Oh," Steven said guiltily. "Sorry, Velvet, I thought you were a CLO."

"It's cool," the girl called Velvet sighed. "What do you need me to give a message to them, I have to find one anyways to take this stupid machine."

Steven laughed. "Why do you have a sewing machine anyways?"

"The delivery truck for Bayo Repairs broke down, so Mr. Bayo has a bunch of us delivering the machines ourselves while it's being repaired. A CLO was supposed to meet me at the delivery dock, but no one was there, so now I'm walking around looking for someone to take it," the girl replied with a friendly tone. "Who's this one for?"

"Gretchen Harol," Steven replied. "Leave the sewing machine here and hurry and find a CLO. When you find them, ask them to find a manikin for me and I'll have them take the sewing machine away when they get here."

"Ask them?" Velvet wondered, hefting the machine onto the table and looking expectantly at him.

"Those people used to be my people, so don't go expecting my to just boss them around," Steven replied absently.

"I'll just tell them you told them to, they work faster if their told," Velvet winked, and then took off at a run in pursuit of someone to give the message to.

"She was cute!" Slader grinned, watching the girl leave.

"She has a boyfriend that could snap you like a twig," Steven told him as he folded the red cloth and put it against the green, then he added worriedly, "No disrespect intended... I was just stating a fact."

Slader laughed and said, "I love you, dude! You're hilarious."

Steven just gave him a confused look.

~District Eight Square~

Whispers rippled through the square as everyone gathered, waiting impatiently for the inauguration of the new mayor-to-be to begin. Slader was seated on the curb in front of the restaurant they had eaten lunch at for most of their visit to the district, chatting with Denim. The boys were a perfect match, Kat thought, both helpless flirts with terrible senses of humor. The pink-haired girl was loitering by a lamp post, watching district dwellers go by, and counting the signs in her head. Four gold signs, two purple signs, six dark red signs, nine light red. Dark blue and orange signs made up most of the crowd. Orange signs flitted about everywhere, stopping to talk a moment with a group, then racing off to talk to another, and cloths of purple slinked in and out of alleyways, watching, quite possibly, for an unsuspecting Domini to pick pocket. However, unlike other districts, they stood out like sour thumbs with their purple, signless cloths, and slipping in and out unsuspected was near impossible.

And in the crowd was one, grey-laden little girl, bouncing about, and occasionally standing on her toes to look, of course she couldn't see much considering she was much shorter than most of the crowd. The little girl was wearing the dress she had been parading about the mayor's house in a few days before, the one that Steven had created, and her thin blond hair was pulled into a high ponytail tied with a grey ribbon.

After a few minutes of the girl's fruitless search, she was approached by a Viatores girl that Kat seemed to recognize but couldn't remember where from. The girl knelt down beside the younger and asked her something, and the little girl responded by shaking her head. The girl asked her something else, and the girl returned a verbal answer, making the older girl set her jaw. She stood, and took the little girl's hand in hers so she didn't run off, then she stood on tip toe and scanned the crowd. Judging by the frustrated look on her face, she came up empty. So she said something to the younger girl and gave her hand a small tug, and the girl followed her as she made her way through the crowd.

The little girl caught sight of the Capitol girl through the crowd and waved excitedly, taking off in her direction and dragging the older girl with her. She came to a stop in front of Kat and said, "Hi! You the girl that my grandpa was talking to the other day! I'm Stitch! What's your name?"

"Kat," Kat replied with a warm smile.

"It's nice to meet you Kat...Have you seen my big sister? She said she was going to meet me in the square!"

"No, I haven't."

"There she is!" Stich called excitedly, pointing past Kat, then taking off at a run, leaving behind her orange-signed ex-babysitter.

The older girl laughed. "She's adorable isn't she?"

"Yeah," Kat replied absently. "Don't I know you from somewhere?"

"You do," the girl grinned. "You were with Steven the other day. I was the girl with the sewing machine."

"Oh!" Kat nodded in remembrance. "That's right. Velvet?"

"Yep," Velvet replied grinning. "And you're Kat Snow!"

"I am." Kat grinned.

"I've heard rumors about you Miss Snow," Velvet told her.

"I hope their not bad rumors."

"Rumors that say you're here in District Eight on some sort of school project," Velvet said, assuringly.

"Oh! Well, then they're no longer rumors. I am," Kat confirmed.

"Cool," Velvet nodded. "Is it going well?"

"Yeah, better than I'd hoped."

"Hello, cute District Eight girl!" Slader purred, walking over with Denim and giving his head a flick.

Kat rolled her eyes and groaned, while Velvet gave the boy an unimpressed look and said, "I have a boyfriend that could snap you like a twig."

Slader's smiled didn't falter as he shook his head and said, "That makes you the second person to say that."

"Good, maybe you'll figure it out the second time," Kat growled.

"I thought cats were supposed to purr," Slader teased.

"This cat's about to break your nose," the girl warned.

"Ladies and gentlemen!" A voice boomed over the chatter.

"That's our cue to shut up," Kat hissed as Slader ignored the old mayor and opened his mouth to reply.

Slader pouted and turned to look to the stage, where the mayor was seated in his wheelchair in front of a microphone. He was dressed in a grey dress jacket with a blanket thrown over his legs, and he seemed very glad to be finally ridding himself of the strains of leadership.

"Today we are gathered to watch as I step down as your leader, and another takes my place. Please give a warm welcome to your new mayor, my grandson, Rustle Eithel!"

Rustle, a tall boy with short blond hair and too-pretty blue eyes, took the stage, swore into his position with a peacekeeper and made a small speech, then the crowd cheered for him, and the inauguration was over.

Kat wasn't surprised. After all, it wasn't like he was taking the President's spot or something.