*DISTRICT 2*

*CILENNA ERIN MOWAYED*
*SIXTEEN*

Why? Cilenna thinks desperately. Rosie told me so many times that I could live with her if Mother and Father disowned me. Why would I volunteer? Tears spring to her big, amber-hued doe eyes. She tries to blink them away, but they just teeter on her lashes and spill down her dark skin. She chokes on a sob. Her stomach hurts more than anything.

"Congratulations!"

"Ah?" Cilenna snaps her head up and immediately tries to quell her crying. Then she makes it patently obvious that she is ignoring her parents.

Mrs. Mowayed swoops in and throws her arms around her daughter. "That was so brave, Lenna," she gushes. "It was beautiful."

She can't ignore that. "You forced me to," she spits out. "You said you'd fucking disown me."

"But you did it on your own!" Maria Mowayed insists. "You did it all on your own."

You know what? she decides. If they're going to act like I did it by myself, then let them. "Well, thanks, then." Cilenna bares in teeth in an inane semblance of a grin. "You guys can leave now."

"Well...alright. Come, Paul." Maria extends an arm to her callous husband, who shoots a look of uncaring neutrality at Cilenna and leaves.

::

"Cilenna! I'm so sorry." Rosie rushes in and all but topples into Cilenna's arms. "It's so horrible that they made you volunteer when-"

"Shut up," Cilenna hisses, jutting her chin toward the Peacekeeper at the door. "They can put you in jail for saying that, Rosie."

"I'm trying to comfort my friend who was brave enough to volunteer," responds Rosie. "I can say whatever I want." Her eyes are wet with tears, but she blinks them away. Her irises continue to shine, though, making her look almost manic. "And why did you? You know you could have lived with us."

"They wanted me to." She doesn't have a better answer. "I want my parents to love me, okay? Is that such a crime?"

"Well, you're trained," Rosie says finally. "You can handle a sword better than almost anyone else here. And let's not forget those traps. It's so great that you went into those when no one else did. That gives you an advantage against the rest of the tributes, even the other Careers."

"Thanks, Rosie." Cilenna wraps her arms around her best friend and doesn't let go for a long moment, even though public affection is frowned upon in District 2. "I'll win, okay? I want to come back to you. And if I do come back, I'm staying with you."

"Definitely." Rosie grins. "And there's no "if" about it. You will make it back. You didn't train for years for nothing."

Cilenna doesn't know what to say. What does one say when she's leaving for the Hunger Games with a 1 in 24 chance of surviving? Fine, maybe it's higher for her, being from District 2, but it's the same scenario. She has a solid chance of dying. And if she does...

"Time's up!" snaps the Peacekeeper, and Rosie, with a last nod to Cilenna, leaves the room.

*STYX FLAME*
*FOURTEEN*

Styx prays that his family will stay away from this room. Although it's made to be exciting, with blood-red walls and black tiles on the floor, he thinks it's dismal, and knows it will just remind his mother and siblings that he has no chance at winning. After all, he's only 14. What was he thinking, volunteering?

Styx knows what he was thinking. He was thinking that it was his brother who had gotten Reaped, his brother who is only 12 years old, and he would immediately die. At least Styx has some sort of chance. But not enough. The odds aren't in his favor, and he knows it.

"Styx?" ventures a quiet voice. Crimson.

"Crimson," he repeats, this time out loud. "Thanks for coming."

"Thanks for inviting me."

Normally, they'd both be laughing by now, but there's tension in the room, hovering around them, and it makes them unusually solemn.

"Listen, Styx," says Crimson gently, "just do the best you can. If you feel more comfortable on your own, then don't join up with the Careers. If you want to, then do. But just know everyone's looking for a chance to attack. They'll keep you until you're not worth anything. And you'll be one of the first to go once that decision is made." Crimson has always been blunt, but not this tactless. But maybe nothing is tactless once a friend is going into the Games.

"I know all that," Styx murmurs. "I was the top of our age group."

"You shouldn't have volunteered for your brother."

"What?" The thought of not stepping in makes him cringe. "Why would you say something like that?"

"Well, neither of you really have a chance," she explains, stuttering a little. "Wouldn't you rather he go than you?"

"I couldn't live with him dying," Styx says hoarsely. "I'd kill myself back here. I'd rather die a noble death, knowing I tried to do something."

"The Hunger Games are never noble." Crimson gets to her feet and stretches. "Good luck, Styx."

Styx is left alone, wondering how that could have gone so wrong when he just wanted to cry on her shoulder, let her be his rock to make up for all the times he was hers. But now he has to be strong. He won't have another chance to let it all out.

::

His family edges around the gilded doorway so quietly that Styx doesn't notice they're there until Ryker pounces on him.

Styx lets out a garbled noise and whirls, chiding himself, How could you not have noticed them? They're not even trained to be quiet! What if that happens during the Games? You can't be easy pickings, Flame.

"Hi!" proclaims Ashlar, his younger sister. "I hope you do well, Styx! And please get to the Final 8; then they'll interview us!" She grins, excited at the prospect of being on TV, and rattles on as though she's writing a birthday card to someone she doesn't particularly care about. "And if you win, that would be amazing. So try your hardest, Styx!" Ashlar bounces on her toes.

"Ash, honey." Styx's mother taps Ashlar's head. "Shh." But she doesn't get to say more than that because then Ryker Flame puts in his own two cents.

"That was so brave, Styx. Volunteering for me. Even though it would have been so cool to go into the Games. I would have been a star." He flexes his small muscles. "Anyway, good luck, bro." Ryker flops back onto the couch.

Mrs. Flame leans down to whisper in her son's ear. "I'm sorry about them, Styx. But do your best, keep us in mind, and know that we are always cheering for you, no matter what. And we're waiting for your return."

Styx wonders if deep-down, his mother is hoping he will die. One less mouth to feed for his poor family could make a real difference. No more signing up for tessarae. Less rationing. Less chance of starvation.

"Thank you," he says quietly. "I'll miss you."

*DISTRICT 2 TRAIN*

"More fighters!" Gracie-Lyn May squeals happily as she collects Cilenna and Styx from their rooms.

The tributes scurry behind her, trying to keep up with her long strides. The escort has to be at least eight feet tall without her high heels on, and Cilenna wonders how exactly they make people taller in the Capitol.

Styx clears his throat. "How long until we get there? I get motion sickness sometimes," he admits.

"You know, you shouldn't be telling me any of your weaknesses," Cillena says casually, but it's easy to tell that she's made note of the information, locked it in a corner of her brain, just like they'd been taught.

"Motion sickness in the District 2 male, you say?" Gracie-Lyn echoes. "Ah, I must let the Head Gamemaker know. That will add such a spin! It is the Quarter Quell, after all. We do have to make it special." She taps a code into the white train resting in front of them, and the doors slide open so quickly the eye can't follow. "Come in, come in."

Cilenna and Styx scuttle in behind her and sit, openly staring at each other, ignoring the fancy decorations. Careers have to investigate their District partners, have to dig in, have to find out each other's flaws and secrets. Being able to share information with allies is crucial to staying alive as long as possible. The more one knows about the other tributes, the easier they are to kill.

But it's more important to worry about being killed in these Hunger Games.

i know. i'm terrible. i haven't updated in a billion years. feel free to yell at me. i've been really busy though, but i'll try to keep the updates coming more quickly from now on. promise.

on a happier note (not for the tributes, though), i've figured out the basis of this quarter quell arena, and i think it's really unique and interesting. i might have a gamemaker chapter before the training, and then another katniss-centric, and the the games start! yay! :D i'm excited, as you can tell?

review, please?