I'm going to move right along into the other chapters. We all get the point, yes? The tributes converse, talk with their mentors, have dinner... I'm glad I got to add Scotty in, though. It's always fun to add in a past tribute because they were the winners of the Games. I should've added Gray into D9's train ride. I'll remember to put him in the morning of some training day.

D5- 12- (Allegra Ride)

It'd be a big-fat lie if I told a single person that I am not totally, completely terrified.

I guess I'm a liar.

"Are you scared, um, Allegra?" Scotty Nelson asked just a minute ago. She's so nice and so pretty, even though one of her arms was completely chopped off by the villain of her Games: some Career; I think his name was Luck. Or…no, it wasn't luck, but that's what everyone called him. I was only ten during those Games, so I don't quite remember it. The fear might be drowning the memory out as well. I'm not sure. "It's okay if you are. I was."

"I'm not," I had replied in a feeble voice.

Now she smiles kindly at me and stands up, leaving me to sit in the shadows of the dining car, all alone. I can hear the faint sounds of dinner being made—maybe by Avoxes, maybe by actual cooks, I don't know—in the kitchen car just one car away and my heartbeat grows louder and quicker. I can almost hear it… I haven't had as much food as the Capitol serves in…well, ever. And it's supposed to be so good… But what if I see one of the Avoxes mouths for some reason? That would be utterly disgusting.

Scotty comes back a moment later. "Are you sure? I thought you'd follow me. I probably should have made it clearer for you to follow me. I'm spacey today," she said, tapping her head. I giggle quietly. She grins. "There you go. Do you want something to eat? Dinner isn't for another hour or two."

I nod. "What do they have?"

Scotty turns towards the counter where I'm sitting, but quickly tosses me a short glance. "Everything."

"Oh. Oh…" I look around, swallowing. "Just order me anything, then. I'll end up ordering something like…like bread and miss out on the best stuff."

An Avox comes up to the counter. Her mouth is closed in an odd way. I try to mentally note the way her mouth is closed so I know who is an Avox and who isn't. It would be rude to demand an answer from someone who can't speak. I would feel terrible for doing that, and I already feel terrible enough for being reaped, sent off to die and kill others and… and… I can't bear to think ahead.

"Good thinking," Scotty tells me. I smile internally. "You're smart, Allegra. That's good." She looks up at the Avox again. "Uh, how about a sandwich. Any kind. But a good kind, though." When the Avox nods and turns around to leave, Scotty calls after her, "And thank you, by the way!" She stops, only for what seems a nanosecond, and what almost is a smile flashes on her face before she continues off towards the kitchen.

"You're really nice to her," I comment.

"How would you like to be treated awfully after your tongue was cut off?" she says accusatorily. "They may be the Capitol's prisoners but that doesn't mean they don't deserve to be treated like the human beings they are."

I swallow, realizing I am being a jerk. I sometimes do that: Though usually very aware of how people feel and usually so cautious of preserving their happiness, I tend to get relaxed and trust people, and that's when I start to blurt things out that I may not mean, no matter how rude they are. Something like a bit of shame washes over me, and I suddenly have a new appreciation for something as simple as my tongue.

And my life in general.

D8- 17- (Daniel Axton)

"Ladies and gentlemen," begins the escort in a too-loud voice, and though she's from the Capitol, it's relatively unaffected by the accent, "we—"

I roll my eyes—oh, yes, nice touch, being difficult, I think to myself sarcastically, but the anger and the sarcasm tumbles out anyway—and say, "Must you start everything you say with 'ladies and gentlemen'?"

"Sar…castum?" the girl—that crazy little girl who looks like she used to be pretty, used to be rich, but went insane and suddenly everything…stopped being good—guesses.

"No, it's sarcasm," the boy corrects her softly, looking over at her briefly. He then looks immediately away, like it's a crime to look at her or… or—the other possibility makes me sick—she's too ugly or crazy to look at. Sure. She's a more then just "a bit off," and she does obviously have some hygiene problems and other problems of the like, but that is no way to treat an innocent girl who might not even know what's going on, even if she is your opponent in a fight to the death.

Protecting my sister all my life has made me like this. Our father is very abusive, specifically towards females. Males he isn't so harsh to, which is why I have enough room to stick up for my sister and mother without getting killed. But there's nothing I can do to make him go away, though if there was I'd do it in a heartbeat, no doubt. For my sister and mother. And because I'm terrified of him and go to sleep hungry or in pain just like they do.

"Don't…don't…" is all I manage to get out in my tight snappy voice to Damon Grey, the boy who I instantaneously don't like because of his attitude—whether on purpose or not—towards the poor little girl who can't help what happens. I blame it on my brotherly instincts to protect girls younger than me, but it's not like I'll be protecting her all the time. That'll waste what little time it takes to protect myself.

"Don't what?" one of our three mentors asks as she strolls in. It's Alicia's mentor, who smiles at her. Alicia looks like she might hug the mentor, Ellie Hartwell.

I hang my head lightly, a light blush running to my face. Ellie's young, pretty, and I'm a guy; a guy faced with a danger, but a guy anyway. "Nothing," I tell her, smiling slightly. "I meant nothing. I spaced out."

"Don't do that," she reprimands lightly and I nod.

"What were we talking about originally?" Cardea Ceres, the escort, huffs, obviously annoyed.

Alicia smiles kindly. "You were about to make a speech and it would be great if we were on a beach so I could rhyme it with peach. He interrupted with sarcasm and you nearly had some sort of spasm while I wondered but could not fathom if where we are going might have a chasm. Where are we going, miss?"

Cardea looks like she might have a spasm again.

"To the Capitol," Ellie replies smoothly, sitting down near Alicia's seat. "Are you alright?"

I scratch my head awkwardly, being on the other side of Ellie. "Alicia…I think…I don't think she's exactly…up to speed. If you know what I mean…do you know what I mean?"

Ellie shakes her head, looking over at me. I sigh and shrug, motioning to Alicia with a small gesture that she can't see and a quick but sure point to my head. Ellie narrows her eyes, almost offended-looking, but nods. I blush ever-so-slightly again in embarrassment for my pathetic motions towards Alicia at her mentor but quickly try to shrug it off: After all, what am I to do if she's crazy? I'll warn her mentor and move on. Simple enough.

And now I'm the bad guy. It's funny how quickly it takes to flip to the other side of the same coin.