For background on Elissa, see the bonus chapter of Descent into Madness.

Dominique Rindelle- Over and Over D9F

Randy was such a strange mentor. He had the soul of an angel (and the face of one), but it was strange how he'd won the Games. Not the way by which he'd won it, but that he had won it- that someone so gentle and fragile could have survived where so many people died. He wasn't even poor, like most of us in Nine. I was super happy for him, but it did leave me in the odd place of having a mentor with almost no Games skills to offer.

"How am I even supposed to stand out?" Randy's reflection frowned as I smudged the foundation he was applying. Our sessions usually devolved into him giving me tips on my looks, since the Capitolites were unabashedly more likely to sponsor someone pretty. Randy often mentioned that was how Porter won.

"You're cool!" Randy insisted.

"Thanks," I said, smiling. "But there are lots of cool Tributes here."

"You have an ally," Randy pointed out. "They love that."

It was true Wyatt and I had picked up our friendship easily. More than a friendship, really. It was completely silly to start a romance in the Arena, but call me silly, I guess. I couldn't deny what I wanted, even if I knew it was dumb. We both knew nothing would come of it. We were just content to let events come as they may and separate when one of us died.

I frowned when the idea came to me. It made so much sense, but I couldn't believe I was considering it. Wyatt wasn't a tool. Our love, fragile as it might be, wasn't a ploy. But it had to be, didn't it? For either of us to have any chance of living, we had to stand out.

I stewed with guilt sitting next to Wyatt in the cafeteria. We were off to one side, far enough that we could talk strategy without eavesdroppers. Wyatt looked so innocent, sitting there looking at me with contentment and good humor. We'd been joking about the food, and he'd been imitating the chef's accent. I felt like a faker, knowing what I was about to say.

"Do you worry about not standing out enough? That we won't get sponsors?" I asked.

"Sometimes," he said. "I'm used to that, though."

"I had an idea about that," I started. I fiddled with my fork a bit, pretending the pasta was suddenly much more engaging. "You won't get mad?"

"Well I can't know until I hear it." Wyatt's tone said he was more suspecting that I'd say something silly, like skinnydipping, rather than what I really meant.

"Lots of Tributes have girlfriends or boyfriends. That's not enough," I said.

"Yeah?" Wyatt asked, cocking his head a little.

I took a breath and plunged in. "So will you marry me?"

Wyatt Sparks- Over and Over D3M

I would have thought I hadn't heard right, but Dominique was sitting right next to me. And really, I didn't think I hadn't heard right. It was just the closest phrase I had to how confused I was.

"Married?" I asked, like I was too dumb to even respond.

"Not entirely, I mean, since we're seventeen. Just, like, we tell the Capitol we consider ourselves married, and maybe have a party. And I was thinking during the interviews we could say our vows, each during our turn." Dominique blurted it all out like she couldn't stop, like she had to say it all or she couldn't say any of it. She looked at me breathlessly, already blushing and squirming.

"Well... I didn't think my proposal would go like this," I started.

"We can do it again if you want to be the one," Dominique offered.

"No, no, it's nice feeling wanted. I see why ladies like it," I joked.

"So you think it's a good idea?" Dominique asked. She looked like she half wanted me to carry it further and half wanted me to call it all silly.

"It's a really weird idea, but this is a really weird situation," I said. Already I was flashing through images of a married life, like the stereotypical picket fence house and two kids were coming and this wasn't just a cynical sponsors ploy.

"Do you think it makes us less real?" Dominique's voice was quiet and strained.

I considered. "I guess we'd never be real unless we got out anyway, you know?" It was painful to admit, but we couldn't really call this love. It was the start of love, maybe, but it could never be what marriage was meant to be. We were just kids, and we couldn't whether something like the Games.

"If we get out somehow, we can figure it out then," Dominique said.

"Wow, already making plans in case you need to divorce me," I said.

"I had the idea while I was talking with Randy," Dominique said. "He'll know how to put together a fancy wedding."

"He can be our best man," I offered gallantly. "Maybe some of the Careers would like to be bridesmaids? Akari, perhaps?" Already I was retreating into humor. In a situation like this, you just had to embrace the crazy.

"Randy can be the flower girl, you mean," Dominique laughed.

"He would like that better, wouldn't he?" I asked. Things got quiet, and almost mournful. "If we weren't here, would you still want to do this?"

Dominique flinched. We both tried to find somewhere else to look as I regretted saying it but at the same time yearned for an answer.

"I think I would," she said. "I guess that's probably all we'll ever know."

Grande St. Leger- Descent into Madness D1M

Elissa was an enigma. Religion I could understand, even if it seemed ignorant to me. I kept my opinions to myself, partially out of politeness and partially out of how paradoxical it all seemed. All through school I learned how science was the only way to understand the world, and how religion was a tool used by the powerful to keep the people ignorant and controlled. But... Elissa wasn't ignorant. She got better grades than I did in plenty of subjects. She wasn't controlled. She did what she wanted, whether that was volunteering or wearing the weird frilly yellow shirts she liked. But at the same time, her religion wasn't even one of the more established ones. How could it be that God was real and also that the only people to correctly figure this out were some goatherds from ancient Turkmenistan, and that God didn't see fit to share this knowledge with anyone else or protect his people from getting slaughtered? Or from doing so much evil in his name?

"Hey, Elissa, I have a weird question," I said. We were in the One lounge, pretending to analyze the other Careers but really just eating pizza. We were dressed in pajamas and slumped across the couches and generally not looking like the noble image of the Academy ilk.

"Yeah?" she said.

"I've asked before, but still... how do you know your gods are real?" I asked. I'd asked multiple times, in fact, and each time I tended to get a slightly different answer. I hoped in all my asking I might gather together the complete picture.

"Mostly I just feel them," she admitted. "But sometimes they answer my prayers."

"How do you know it's not just a coincidence, or confirmation bias?" I asked. That was what it had always struck me as. They sure didn't answer her prayers to live.

"You're gonna say 'they didn't answer your prayers to stay alive', aren't you?" Elissa said in a goofy mocking tone. "Well, smarty, I didn't pray to stay alive. Reincarnation is part of the plan."

"Have they answered all your prayers?" I prodded.

"No, because sometimes I ask for dumb things," Elissa said. "And they're not dogs who do tricks on command. Praying is just a way to talk to them."

"It must be nice," I mused. "Having something to trust in, I mean. I don't mean this is just a crutch for you-" she hated it when people said that. "No, I believe this because it's true," she would say- "But just believing the world has bigger meaning."

"It doesn't depend on me, does it?" Elissa said. "It's either true or it's not. I'm right, or there's nothing and I just disappear. Honestly, if that's true, I might as well just go die."

"You think..." I started. "They would help me be less anxious?"

Elissa's eyes softened. "Illness is part of the world, too, even if I don't understand it. I think if you believed you might have more peace. But you would still be you. I'm sorry."

"It's okay," I said. It wasn't her fault. It might be her gods' fault, if they were real. I didn't know how to understand it. I just wished there was a meaning to it.

Elissa de Angelo- Descent into Madess D1F

There was a lot Grande didn't understand about Sofreh. I didn't hold that against him. Sometimes I actively held in back from him, actually. Unlike most religions, Sofreh didn't teach damnation for non-practitioners. It was one of the few inclusivist religions of the world- religions that taught everyone was part of their number, even people who didn't practice or hadn't heard of it. No, Sofreh wasn't even really a religion. It was just truth. Whether or not people believed in the Ahuras, they were still there. They didn't need people's adoration and sacrifice to function. They did appreciate free offers, which was why I made sacrifices sometimes, but that was just a bonus, not a requirement.

I held Sofreh back from Grande, or at least didn't mention it much unless he asked, because of how very dangerous it was to live by it. I couldn't count how many followers I'd known over the years who disappeared one night. We had a vigil during each service, when we were lucky enough to meet, that included the names of each soul snatched away in secrecy and held in some Capitol facility until they either told what they knew or died. The ones that did come back were empty shells, praising the Capitol and pleading with the rest of us to give up our ignorance and love Snow. We didn't hold it against them, either. They would reincarnate like anyone else, and we hoped they would be more fortunate in the next life.

I'd never really doubted my religion, but sometimes I did wonder if some of its tenets weren't strangely convenient. Reincarnation, mostly. As I wandered the training room, indulging my short attention span by flitting between weapons, I found my gaze lingering on the others in the room. I wanted to kill all of them, in the end. Most of them seemed like nice people but I wanted to win the Games and to do that I had to outlast all of them. It was conveniently comforting that I thought all of them would reincarnate. It neatly absolved me of responsibility to believe that it wasn't permanent and they would be reborn in some new life, hopefully one where they didn't get Reaped.

Part of it was the truth I'd chosen to live by, I knew. If I'd chosen Xian or Fadd-Booda instead of Huyk, I wouldn't be here killing kids. That was probably the greatest area of doubt for me. Following Huyk had done so much for my ADHD and my motivation. I had a metaphysical reason to be all I could be and an excuse for ushering other people into their next life where they might become stronger. But wouldn't I have made more of a difference in the world following Fadd-Booda and being a singer or something, or adhering to Isst'a and bringing people together instead of cutting them down? It wasn't a crisis of faith, exactly, but a crisis in faith. Adherents of Sofreh were supposed to move from one Ahura to another as the situation demanded, always remembering that each truth was part of the greater truth. If I changed my main alignment, I wasn't forsaking my religion. I was maturing in it.

None of that matters, though, does it? I knew I wouldn't embrace the Ahuras of joy or cooperation. Either of those would get me killed. Sofreh preached reincarnation and I believed in it, but I was still scared to die. Maybe someday I would be mature enough to let go, but for now I would let that little seed of hypocrisy fester in me. So I trained with the weapons, and looked at the Tributes, and intended in my heart to kill them.