Castor wasn't the worst-looking guy, that was for sure. But he was too quiet. Not that Nancy minded the quiet, but it was kind of unnerving. The quiet ones were always the crazies, and Nancy could do without some crazies ruining her whole Hunger Games experience.

That said, Nancy never was one to shy away from starting a conversation. "So, are you, like, an Avox or something?"

Castor looked up at her. He had purple eyes, Nancy realized. Strange. Did those come naturally?

"What?" Castor asked.

Aw. How sweet. "You must have been very sheltered. Do you even know what an Avox is?"

Castor didn't answer, so Nancy answered for him. "It's a criminal, Cassie. Someone who got their tongue ripped out by the Capitol."

Castor swallowed.

"Nervous?" Nancy asked. "Well, I guess you should be."

"Why?" Castor asked. "We both volunteered, didn't we?"

"Because I'm going to win," Nancy smiled at him. "You were an idiot to even think about thinking about volunteering."

"Yeah?" Castor said. "I think that I might have to bring that idea down."

Nancy stood up, grinning down at Castor in what she hoped was an unnerving way. "No, you won't be able to. You're a dead man walking, Castor Bordeax! A dead man!"

She charged Castor, hoping to wrap her hands around his throat. Take one out before the Games started, wouldn't that be smart?

But then she was pulled back by someone—Tantalus, the mentor. "Nancy, save it for the Arena!" he shouted.

Save it for the Arena. Save it for the Arena.

XXXXX

"So, is it just Reyna?" Octavian asked her.

Interesting. Was there any way that he knew about her family? It was a lucky guess, if he was trying to annoy her. But then again, he might just have been a nosy guy.

Reyna didn't think so, though. There were nasty things said about Octavian: he was a liar and a cheat, a manipulator of the highest degree. Reyna's trainers had warned her about all possible threats in the District before letting her volunteer, and Octavian's vocal skills had been one of them.

She couldn't let this guy get into her head. She was obviously stronger than him. He had no power over her if she just refused to let him take control of her mind.

"Yes. Just Reyna," Reyna replied. She kept the words even and clipped, trying to express that he had no chance of getting into her head.

"I'm Octavian."

"I know."

Octavian met her steady gaze. Reyna stared back. She had a feeling that if she looked away now, it would be a show of submissance. She couldn't let him win.

Finally, Octavian smiled. "Careers?"

Really? That was it? Did Octavian think that she was worthy of being his ally? Or had he judged her as being weak, easy to kill?

Reyna nodded once, pulling one corner of her mouth into a small smile. "Careers."

XXXXX

If there was any person who was completely useless to Annabeth as an ally once the Games began, it would be her district partner Leo Valdez.

That theory had reared its ugly head at the Reaping itself, when Leo seemed to not actually have been paying attention and had to be reminded that he had been Reaped. On the other hand, Leo's ADD tendencies could benefit her in the Games.

Annabeth ran her fingers through her hair. No. She couldn't start thinking like this! She had to try and retain a bit of herself. She wasn't a killer. Well, she'd do what she'd have to do, but she wouldn't start planning how to kill people! Premeditated murder was first-degree. Spur-of-the-moment wasn't as serious in a court of law.

"So…you're Annie Bell?" Leo asked her.

Seriously? "It's Annabeth," she said. It came out as more of an angry growl.

"Wow. You sound annoyed," Leo said. This kid doesn't know when to shut up.

"Yeah. You kind of got my name wrong."

"I guess I can see why that would make you angry."

'Just go make yourself some dinner, Annie!' her father shouted.

"I'm sure that you can."

Leo smiled. "I had some of this brown stuff earlier. It was awesome."

What? That was an abrupt change of subject…

"Oh yeah? And what was this brown stuff?"

"Coffee, or something. It gives me energy."

Coffee? Shit! Annabeth had had some years before, and the head rush it gave her was awful. She hadn't been able to sleep for a day. And it had tasted horrible, too.

"But it tasted gross, so I put in sugar. Do you want some?"

"Leo, how much sugar is in there?!"

"I don't know. A lot. It tastes good now."

"It looks like sludge!"

"I said that there was a lot of sugar in it."

Annabeth surpressed a sigh. It was going to be a long ride.

XXXXX

Jackson kid: annoying.

Sherman the mentor: why did he need so much booze, anyway?

Delphin the other mentor: too perky.

Triton the escort: What an asshole.

Capitol attendants Numbers 1 and 2: Clarisse could probably tear them in half with her bare hands, or something.

Yes, there was no doubt about it, she was the strongest person on this train.

Clarisse rolled her token around in her hand. It was a small glass bead that Silena had given her. It was small enough to fit in her pocket, and would definitely make it past inspection. She wondered what Jackson had as a token. Probably something horribly sentimental and big that would never get cleared.

Triton began speaking. "So, it'll be an overnight ride to the Capitol, and then you'll begin the styling process."

"Wait, what?" Clarisse interrupted. "Styling?"

"Yes, styling, Clarisse!" Triton sounded annoyed. "So that you don't look like a complete savage during the chariot rides."

Clarisse grunted, shrugging. She didn't care what happened as long as the stylists weren't annoying.

"After that," Triton continued, "you have three days of training, interviews, and then the Games begin!"

"I wish we didn't have to go through the training," Clarisse said. "I don't need it."

"Some other people might," Jackson said.

"Yeah—some little pathetic district kids! We don't. We might as well not go."

"The training is to give everyone an equal chance!"

Her district partner was an overly moral little ass. "Is that what you want? Everyone with an equal chance? What are you, some kind of rebel?"

"No, I'm just saying that maybe the Games shouldn't be a complete slaughter of the kids from lower districts! That wouldn't be fair!"

God, what a little punk.

XXXXX

Capitol trains can go above 200 miles per hour. It is 327 miles from the District 5 square to the outer Capitol. However, tribute trains may not travel at full speed, opting to go much slower. The reason for this is that it is preferred to give tributes time to talk about the Games before reaching the wonders and temptations of the Capitol. Tribute Protocol, by Anna King, page 56.

"Is discussion of the Games warranted?" Ella asked, addressing everyone in the room.

Which…was only the blonde boy, as it turned out. He looked surprised to see her talking. "Um, sure. What do you want to talk about?"

Ella considered this. She hadn't actually prepared any talking points, nor a lecture or any visual aids (Teacher's Handbook, page 100). But there were things that she knew about. "The Bloodbath."

"What about the Bloodbath, Ella?"

"Ella does not want to die in the Bloodbath. Death is bad for people. Bad, bad, bad."

The blonde looked slightly perturbed. "Well, neither do I, really."

Happy with this piece of information, Ella stopped talking.

A few minutes later, though, Jason spoke up. "Have you had any food yet?"

"Ella has not eaten."

"You should eat something, though. I think we should be eating as much as possible before the Games start. They're called the Hunger Games for a reason."

"Yes. The Hunger Games were started and named to remind the districts of the hunger that the Capitol faced during the war and the hunger that the districts face now as a result of their misdeeds. However, sometimes it is a misnomer, as many tributes find ways to eat well inside of the Arena. Hunger Games History, page 12."

The boy did look surprised now. "Ella, did you just quote all of that from a book?"

"Yes."

"But—that's amazing! You've got a real talent."

Ella's face felt a bit hot. She looked down. (Blushes are a sign of embarrassment as well as a perceived affinity towards a person, Social Psychology, page 236.) No one had ever called her talented before.

"Ella likes words."

Jason (Jason was an hero of an ancient society, the Greeks, Mythology, page 411) smiled. "Well, okay. I guess…Jason likes words, too! But not as much as Ella likes them."

"Ella likes words. Words are good. Dying is bad. Ella likes Jason, too."

XXXXX

The train, moving along at a fast pace, had long ago left behind the town square in District 6. It had passed out of Rachel's home district not too long after that. Then, they had traveled through a part of 8, lights of factories and cities and humans shining on far off in the distance. Rachel imagined painting that. What would it look like? Just a black canvas with white dots on it? But that seemed so wasteful, so much of an underplayment of what it meant to be observing the affects of urban life. Rachel would have put slightly lighter shades of black on it, too, to show the buildings.

After that, the escort Ora had informed Rachel and Clovis that they were passing through a part of District 5. All of 5 seemed heavily industrialized. There were factories all around, big and small. Rachel tried to think about what it would have been like to work in one of those factories. 6 had its fair share of factories, but Rachel never had had to work in one of them. The perks of being the richest girl in the district.

They had left 5 behind and moved on through 10. Rachel liked 10 best. The area that they rode through seemed completely empty, save for the rolling prairie and the tall grasses the swayed in the wind and seemed surprised and taken aback at the unexpected speed of the train. They were moving through 10 now. Rachel kept her face pressed to the window. Ora had told her to go to sleep, but Rachel couldn't. Not when there was a whole world out there, a world that she would never get another chance to see. Rachel needed to take in the sights while she still could.

Rachel didn't think that she would ever get tired of drinking in the sight of all the open space. It was beautiful to start running, to keep running, to know that you could keep going forever and never stop! The stars, too, twinkling in their indigo carpet, looked happy. Rachel imagined them smiling down on her.

Her district partner, Clovis, was probably asleep by now. The poor boy looked like he couldn't stay awake back when they were rewatching the Reapings and discussing basic strategy. He had almost fallen asleep into his soup, but fortunately, that disaster had been averted.

Rachel knew that she should probably have been thinking about how to survive in the Games, but she just couldn't. There would be time for that later. Now was for watching the slight hills wave by, for pretending that she was completely alone in the land of District 10, dancing, sleeping, lying down and watching the stars go to sleep as the light of the morning overtook them.

Now couldn't be about considering her impeding death and wondering if this was some kind of karma: her father had been rich and she had been priveledged, so she became the sacrifice of her district for the year.

Now was not in any way about wondering if the people in her district were celebrating her impeding death.

No, now was for the stars.