The breakfast is awkward, and at this point you honestly wouldn't judge Roxy if she was to slip and pour herself a glass of whatever alcoholic beverage she could come by. You had her promise to always stay sober while counselling tributes, ages ago, and you know she'd never get drunk on her baby sister, but now, you could go for a drink yourself.

Dave is seated next to you, glasses in place, food untouched- well, he did make quite a show of tossing it around the plate with one of the ridiculously ornamented forks, but you estimate that the amount of food currently on his plate is the same as the amount you watched him scoop up this morning.

You take a tiny bite yourself, chewing on the scrambled eggs, and study the older Strider.

Dirk isn't eating either- he didn't even bother with the façade, plate in front of him empty, and he has both gloved arms wrapped around a cup of steaming coffee, staring at it as if it made his little brother volunteer.

You sigh. You would normally enjoy any chance to venture further into the suppressed dynamics of the Strider brothers, but right now, you are a bit nervous yourself.

Roxy meets your eyes. You give her a small smile.

Your palms are now sweating, and you quickly focus on your breakfast, struggling to keep your cool. Dave and Dirk might have a proper excuse to not notice, but you were reaped too, and you will have to compete as well as Dirk Strider's little brother.

Your thoughts go back to yesterday- the moment Roxy dropped the paper and you realised it held your name, the initial shock, and the quick, calming mantra that filled your head as you walked up the stage- "Dirk will help you, Roxy will help you, you know how to fight, you can fight well" – to John's name being called out, to Dave climbing up the stage, over the intense showdown in the train, and Roxy's drunken sobbing in the room next to yours.

You start contemplating your suicide.

You know Dave has a better shot at winning than you could ever hope for. Your sister might be one of the Capitol's favoured celebrities, but Dirk is the victor, and nobody compares to the Victors, especially not good looking, freckled blonds that won just last year, especially not an alcoholic showgirl.

So you know you have to die.

You won't die right away, of course- you need to make sure Dave is certain to win, because if he doesn't come back everyone will be heartbroken and you can't allow that- and, avoiding the thoughts of Roxy's certain relapse, once your body is carried out of the arena, you start plotting.

Roxy is the only one that could notice something is wrong, and she is too upset and/or hung-over to notice. Dirk and Dave keep on ignoring each other. You leave them to it. There'll be time to talk.

You know you're in the Capitol the moment you enter it- suddenly, there are distant screams of excitement, and when you peer out of the window, thousands of cameras flash into your face. You blink in surprise, before pulling on your usual smile and waving at the crowd. They scream louder.

"Dave, go show yourself." Dirk's voice is dripping authority, and Dave gives him one jaw-clenched glare before complying. You both wave at the crowd of unusually coloured people, and you can almost feel Dave's frown.

"They're weird." He notes. "Even for the trolls."

You nod in agreement. Their faces are painted white, their wrists and necks covered in thick jewellery, their eyes coated in brightly-coloured eye liner, their hair excessively styled. But after following Roxy's career for so long, you are used to their unsettling appearance. You shrug, smile never leaving your face.

***yea***

Your name is Karkat Vantas, and what you've just been through is something you never want to go through again.

Well, you are probably going to die in a couple of days, so this really won't happen ever again, but it was still necessary to state how much you loathed the aforementioned experience.

The beauty team doesn't seem to notice or care much about your obvious discomfort, as they run their oddly-painted hands up and down your legs, murmuring about how 'baby soft' they are, and how cute you look once cleaned up. Kankri had warned you about their blatant lack of tact, but you still did not expect them to be this obnoxious. Were they not in charge of every sharp object in this room, you'd probably be kicking them left and right while screaming obscenities- but there are a lot of sharp objects in this room, so you keep still, holding back a groan.

"He looks so much like Kankri." The one with the green hair muses, pinching your cheek. You press your lips firmly together, because if there was a moment to snap, it was now. You know you look like Kankri, thank you very much, shut the fuck up, please die in a hole. The rest murmur their agreements, chuckling.

It is then that you are rescued, by no one else but your designer, a tall, slim, dark haired woman, dressed in a tight-fitting Kimono, eyes heavily painted with black eye-liner. Her colourless orbs are a bit unsettling, and the rest of the beauty team seems to think so to, as they scurry out of the room, leaving the pair of you alone.

Damara gestures for you to get up, and you stand still as she gives you a good look from each angle, frowning. She finally lets you pull on your robe and leaves the room, only to return couple of minutes later, Aradia following shortly behind.

You are a bit taken aback with Aradia's appearance- her skin is scrubbed clean, her long hair neatly combed, and she isn't wearing any make up- she always had a thing for red eyeliner, and without it, she looks somewhat bared. You both take your seats, and Damara studied you both once again, before leaving the room.

You give Aradia a side-ways glance. She is already staring at you.

"Your hair." She gestures. "It's so-"

You raise your hand defensively. "Shut up."
"It's not bad." She quickly adds. "Just…odd?"

"Shut. Up."

She grins. "You almost look like Kankri."

You stomp her foot under the table. She dodges the attack, laughing.

It's then that Kankri walks in, and you both shut up. He studies you both separately, eyes lingering on your hair for a bit too long. You scowl.

"Did we do something to displease Damara?" Aradia asks, worry in her voice. You share her uneasiness- if you managed to anger your designer, you are properly screwed. But Kankri shakes his head.

"She doesn't talk to the tributes." He explains with a sigh. "It is an aspect of her personality that I've had to learn to accept- I do understand her motivation, though, for forming bonds with people that are likely to die violent deaths soon is not something everyone can bear with- but do not think she will not do her best to help you attract the positive sort of attention."

You are a bit relieved- with your personality, you need all the help you can get to leave a not-horrible impression. You frown again.
"Would you stop that?" Kankri snaps. "It is most unattractive and does not make you look like a pleasant person in the slightest."

You stare at him. "I am not a pleasant person."

"Of that I am aware, but the Capitol doesn't need to know." He retorts. "Aradia has more fans already, and all she has done is smile at the camera. Thank god you are a Vantas, otherwise you wouldn't stand a chance."

You are about to start yelling, and Aradia seems to sense it, for she places a hand on your lips and shushes Kankri with the other.

"Karkat is very skilled with the sickles." She says. "It, combined with his celebrity status, and whatever magic Damara will be able to produce, is sure to earn him at least some sponsors."

You stop struggling against her palm, knowing she is more likely to remove it that way. Kankri ponders over her statement for a moment.

"He could still try to not look like an insufferable prick." He adds. "It was bound to come out sooner or later, but you could've at least acknowledged the crowd in some way."

So he's still not over that. Aradia had made a show of waving at the crowd, smiling like crazy, while you brooded in the darkened corner. Kankri spoke so fast and so furiously you were honestly surprised his throat was still not bleeding.

"They are cheering on my death." You mutter. Aradia sighs.

"They'll cheer on anything, as long as you give them something." His voice is almost breaking now. "Or do you not want them to like you? If you want to die, I'll just focus on Aradia here and you can-"

"Kankri." Damara enters the room suddenly, and you all stand still for a second, before slumping back to your respectable positions. She gestures for you to come forward, and then makes you straighten up.

You stand there as her and Kankri talk in hushed voices. Aradia gives you a subtle thumbs up, and you grin- with an eye roll, just so she doesn't get too relaxed.

And then, all of the sudden, your robe is undone and you are standing there stark naked. Aradia averts her gaze, and your hands rush to cover yourself.

"Are you fucking shitting me?" You hiss. "You gave me trigger warnings about fucking microwave sounds, but nudity is okay with you?"

"These are the Games." Kankri replies calmly. "I have asked you to state your triggers."

"Okay, well, nudity is one, for starters." You groan as Damara pries your hands away. "Especially my own."

"It's a bit late for that now." Aradia notes. You glance over, and she is staring at the floor, obviously trying to give you some privacy.
"Anything else?" Kankri inquires. He is enjoying it a bit too much.

"Yeah, um," Your cheeks are bright red and you give up not trying to hide it. "Decapitation, baby unicorns, and, uh, you."

"Baby unicorns I can work on, but I'm afraid you'll have to get used to the rest." He sighs before taking a seat. "If you want me to, I can accompany Aradia outside-"

"No, it's okay." You sigh. "It's not like she's ogling at me like some."

"Karkat, behave." Kankri snaps, and you growl, but allow Damara to do her thing, and stand still as she covers you in fabric, occasionally pokes you with some pins, and then takes the whole thing down, letting you pull your robe back on again. You make a point of staring into the wall as Aradia undergoes the same treatment, and then you are both hauled off to the lunch as they give your costumes the finish touches.
"This whole place is fucked up." You mutter as you take your seats.

The food is good- again- and you stuff yourself, because if you are to suffer public humiliation and very possible decapitation, you are going to do it with a full stomach. The mute slaves bring in the rich, carefully decorated dishes of cheese-covered vegetables, some sort of fried poultry with baby corns, and a plateful of strawberries with whipped cream. You finish the table off in record time and spend the remains of your lunch break slouched back, digesting the inhuman amounts of food.
"I'm going to be sick." Aradia mutters.

"Me too."
"Hopefully we don't throw up during the parade."

"At least that way they won't forget us."

Kankri finds you laughing.

***TWELVE***

Strider's don't scream, but if you weren't a Strider, you probably would be.

Your entire body aches, and there is so many people touching you, you could honestly file a sexual violation report. Still, you grit your teeth and just lay back, because you know this is all your fault, and that if you do as much as raise your voice, you are flying back to district 12, Everdeen-express.

They are finally done with the underage molestation, and you are allowed to stand up, and your designer makes you look up as she circles around you. Her name is Kanaya, and her face is unnaturally pale, but other than that, she looks pretty normal. You are a bit comforted by the fact, and the small smile she gives you as she hands you your robe helps too. She goes off to find Rose, and you take your seat, pulling your shades back on.

Rose comes in next, face void of all the usual eye-liner and dark lipstick, hair combed and parted midways, dressed in the same plain bathrobe as you are. She rolls her eyes at your shades and gives you a small smile before sitting down next to you.
"My name is Kanaya, as you already know." She gives you both another of her smiles. "And I am here to help you in any way I can."

"Thanks." Rose smiles back, small blush on her cheeks. You raise your eyebrows.

"So," You clear your throat. "What are we wearing tonight?"

The grin Kanaya gives you is almost blinding. "You'll see."

***TWELVE***

Your name is Feferi Peixes, and people are yelling at you, again.

People don't yell at you often. You don't usually give them reason too. But knowing what you've gotten yourself into, you might as well get used to all the low blood cruelty.

It's not like it's the low bloods yelling at you, though. Eridan yelled at you all the way to the Capitol, and then your mother took over. Meenah seemed more amused than upset, although she did tell you you've made a grave mistake.

You sigh. Like you didn't know that already.

You are a High blood, a royal descendant. You were to become a queen one day. You were to live in the Capitol together with the actual rulers, and enjoy the theatre and music and food and dances.

You weren't supposed to compete in the Games.

But that little girl seemed so scared.

You are scared now. All the other tributes look so wild. And while you do know how to use a trident and are certain the Game Makers will leave one in the Arena for you to use- and your family will send you one, if everything else fails- you know the rest of the tributes hate you because of your higher blood and higher privilege and-

You start to hyperventilate again, and have to breathe in a bag.

Eridan's hand lands on your shoulder, and he gives you a reassuring squeeze.

"It's going to be okay." You hear him mutter, and shift away, sending a small smile in his direction. Eridan was always a bit too forward for your taste- you know he definitely has flushed feelings for you, and you are not exactly thrilled about that- but right now, you will accept comfort from anyone willing to give it to you.

"Thanks." You sniff. He offers you a tissue, his initials sewn in near the middle, and you carefully dab at your face. "It's just…a bit overwhelming, that's all."

He strokes down your hair, and you feel the urge to shift away again, but at this point, it would be plain rude.

"No one will dare to kill the princess." He goes on. Your smile is shaky. Those district Two tributes didn't look like titles would matter, once they went on a killer spree.

"Plus, you can use a trident better than half of the Panem!"

You smile at that, and return him his tissue. "Thanks, Eridan. You're a true friend." His smile wavers at that. "I should probably find my designers, though. I should be getting into the costume."

He helps you get up, and follows you down the hall.

***TWELVETWELVETWELVE***

You are now Sollux Captor, and you do not want to be here.

You are standing next to your chariot, costume too heavy, Terezi's laughter too loud. You stand still as your costume designer fixes the final details, and then attempt to return her grin. You majestically fail.

"You look great." Tavros gives you a sheepish smile. "Both of you."

"Thank you, Tavros." Terezi is still latched onto your forearm. "If only I could see myself."

The designer lets out a touched noise, and you roll your eyes. One fucking day, and she already had everyone wrapped around her finger.

"Sollux, put that frown away." She whispers as your team walks away. "It's out time to shine."

"Please, stop."

She releases your forearm and pouts. "Don't be so rude to the poor blind girl."

"That, too."

She pouts harder. That's when you hear the shuffling behind you.

"Captor?"

You turn around, little smile on your face. It's Karkat Vantas- you've never met face to face before, but you had spent a fair amount of time talking to him over pesterchum- if you had friends, he'd be one. He returns your smile.

"Karkat!" Terezi mock-stumbles over to his side, and is sniffing him up and down in no time. He rolls his eyes, but isn't freaked out- they've talked too, and he knows how she can be.

"You smell like candy." Terezi tells him. "But maybe it's your blood."

"He's dressed in red." You tell her before Karkat has time to explode. "Where's Aradia?"

"Over there." He gestures to the back, and you catch a glimpse of bright red fabric and long black hair- but that's pretty much all you can see from this point. "They're getting her in a net- I'll be holding her, or something like that. 'She's the storm, and you're controlling her'- I'm not sure what the Damara chick is on, but I could really use some of it." He rubs the back of his neck. He is clearly nervous.

"Kankri bothering you?" You ask, remembering how he always complained about his brother. He rolls his eyes.

"What do you think?"

"Oh, no, it's definitely your blood." Terezi is still sniffing him, and he pushes her away, frowning.

"I've spent the entire day being felt up by strangers, I've had enough, so fuck off, thank you." He scowls. Terezi just chuckles and walks back to your side.

"I've pictured you taller." You say, and he shoots you a glare.

"Yeah, well, fuck you." His voice sounds every bit as angry as his typing was. "What a brilliant way to finally meet face to face, though. Never thought Capitol cared so much about internet friendships."

"Yeah, it really is a weird coincidence." Terezi notes. "Didn't see it coming."

He gives her an incredulous look before bursting out in a laugh.

That's when he gets called back to his chariot, and you climb up your own, and you help her fix her cape, and then the chariots are moving.

***TWELVEMAN***

District One is up first- a girl and a boy, somewhere around thirteen, in bright white outfits and matching grins. They'll be the one to give the Victor a crown. They make you sick, honestly.

District Two tributes come up next, and you forget how to breathe for a second- they are both shirtless, wearing a pair of tight, black pants, Vriska's metal prosthetics enveloping her entire torso, reflecting in the light of numerous reflectors, Equius' chest coated in small, reflective pieces of decorative metal. Vriska keeps winking at the camera, while Equius stares straight ahead. The audience loves them.

Then, empty chariot for District Three. It is on fire. The audience seems to enjoy this too.

District Four is special this year- both tributes are dressed in rich, colourful fabrics, heads and shoulders covered in heavy golden jewellery. The male tribute is stiff and pallid, while the princess waves at the crowd, occasionally blowing kisses.

More burning chariots, and then there's you. You stare at your reflection on the enormous screen- you are both wearing bright purple one-piece outfits, shoulders coated in small golden spikes. His face is painted in his usual way, while yours is simply covered in subtle glitter, making it stand out in the volatile lighting. Your hair is slicked back, and the fabric is flattering, sticking to all the right places, making you seem stronger and taller. You almost smile, but Jake had told you to remain stoic, so you do as you were said. Gamzee just giggles to your side, but that is the way Jake wanted it, so you don't complain.

District Ten is up next, and they both look amazing. They are wearing matching outfits, split in half by colour- his left half is blue, her right half is red, and the ones in the middle are bright golden. They are both also wearing shades, hair pulled back to reveal their powdered faces. They look intimidating, you have to admit- the designer has done a good job.

District Eleven is next, and, well, they look quite amazing too- the female wearing next to nothing, tangled in a bright red net, a small piece of shimmering fabric wrapped around her hips to save her some decency. Her hair is long and wild, flying in the little wind there is, her entire body is covered in some sort of glowing powder, her eyes are framed with thick, red eye liner, her lips look as if they're bleeding, and she is grinning at the camera, and the crowd loves her. Next to her, holding the net she is wrapped in, is the young Vantas, wearing a pair of tight fitting leather pants and a matching shirt- both red, his arms uncovered, painted with ancient symbols you're pretty sure have some subtle, important meaning. The paint is red, so they look as if they're carved into his skin, as his eyes are framed red too, and he looks so angry- they both look really frightening and you quickly shift your focus.

District Thirteen is the last one up- wearing matching outfits of light, shimmering silk, Rose's yellow and Dave's red. His shades are gone, and his eyes are the brightest red you've ever seen- his hair slicked back to bring them even more in focus. They aren't holding hands- you can understand that. No need to draw even more parallels between him and Katniss Everdeen.

You make a full circle before stopping, and then the district One lady holds a speech for the entire Panem. Another round, and you are safe from the cameras.

"Seen those costumes?" Gamzee whispers to your ear. You sigh, shuffling away.

"Miracles, I know." You mutter. He nods, and you notice he is eyeing Karkat Vantas in a way that makes you feel uneasy. The aforementioned feels the gaze and looks up, and stares at Gamzee, obviously expecting him to look away. Gamzee doesn't. With a surprised blink, he turns around and walks away.

"You were amazing!" Jake is by your side, and then Jade is there too, grinning wildly.

"I knew you'd look great out there!" She gives you both a hug, and even Gamzee returns it. "You looked breathtaking out there. I am so proud!"

She keeps on chatting as you take an elevator ride up to your chambers, and then you excuse yourself, knowing fully well you won't be able to fall asleep.

*A/N* I think Karkat in leather made my beta, MinuteMinute, unable to speak. So if there are any mistakes here, lets just blame it on Karkat yeah good

Oooh two follows. This story obviously needs my full attention.