Hi, me again. We finally got past the visits to the train rides *hurls confetti into air*. Anyway, should I announce which country each character is (or at least whether they're an OC) before the Bloodbath?

Disclaimer: Nope, still don't own Hetalia or The Hunger Games despite my numerous attempts.

Anyways, enough from me. Without further ado, here's chapter five.

Nadia Ceana, 16, D10

Nadia stared at the lavish dinner spread out before her, disgusted. She hated the whole thing! It was like fattening up lambs for the slaughter. They were being pampered for a few days, living in luxury they've never seen before, then sent into the Games to fight and die. Everything around them was perfect, like it was from a fairytale, but it was just thin cover for the death and bloodshed a few days later. She tried to muster up a glare for the stupid luxury around her before she was sent to die, or the escort who acted like picking her name and ripping her away from her life and family back in District Seven was nothing.

The glare dissipated almost immediately, fading into nothing as soon as it came. It was just so hard for her to get riled up at anything. She just never-argh this was all so frustrating. If she couldn't get mad enough to kill at the people sending her to die, how could she murder others in cold blood in the arena? She dropped her head into her hands with a quiet groan, she wasn't going to make it through the arena if she kept going like this.

Next to her, her district partner, Rex, was gulping down the food like there was no tomorrow and talking animatedly with the escort at the same time, spraying her with bits of gravy and chicken every time he opened his mouth.

Staring up at her hulking mountain of a district partner, Nadia mentally steeled herself for what was coming. She just needed to raise her voice and politely ask him to stop doing what he was doing, easy peasy. She could totally do this.

"Um, could you please-" Her barely audible squeak was easily drowned out by Rex slamming down glass of water and starting a new tirade about how he was going to 'show everyone not to mess with District Ten'. Nadia internally sighed at Rex's hopeless behavior, there were trained killers inside the arena who could gut him without a second thought. He was just as dead as her, maybe even more since he's going to be jumping in front of the careers waving a red flag.

The escort seemed to be buying Rex's talk, nodding along enthusiastically.

"Finally!" She praised, "An outlier with some motivation!" Her friendly grin's effect was nullified by the sharp teeth filling her mouth, "This year will be a victory for District Ten!" No, it won't. There'll just be two more bodies littering the arena ground and staining the ground red.

The escort frowned as she raised a glass of red wine to her lips, "Speaking of District Ten, where's the other one, you know, the dead girl?" The words stung, both the escort's complete dismissal of her chances and the fact another person completely ignored her ringing in her head. This time, she'd have thought the person sentencing her to death would at least have the decency to remember her, but no. Even here, among the twenty-four people everyone will pay attention to the most during the whole year she was invisible.

"I'm here." Nadia timidly raised her hand as the escort and Rex's heads snapped towards her, eyes widening as they noticed her. Suddenly acutely aware Nadia heard her comment, the escort raised a hand to her lips, face apologetic.

"I'm sorry, dear, I didn't mean-"

"No, she did mean it." Rex immediately cut her off, turning to Nadia, who shrank back behind her stuffed polar bear, Kumakichi, to avoid the hostile eyes raking over her, "I'm the only one with a chance for District Ten this year." Nadia pressed back against the chair as Rex leaned down closer in front of her, their faces almost touching. His eyes were like sharp flint, cold as ice and growing colder with each word.

"You're just here as cannon fodder, so don't even bother trying to ally with me." He spat, "Stay out of the way and die at a semi-appropriate time." Nadia nodded, almost paralyzed from fear before Rex smirked, heaving himself off and returning to his seat, silently pinning her against the chair with his gaze. Nadia almost wanted to cry as she curled up on the chair, not even into the arena yet, and someone was already mad at her, maybe enough to kill her.

"Well," The escort broke the tense silence between them, "Would you like to train together or separately?"

Rex Donovan, 17, D10

Rex didn't even hesitate before replying, "Separately." The response sent another pang through him. Half of him was screaming at himself for being like this to Nadia. In the district, he had been nice and sociable, the one in school helping shy kids out of their shells and taking younger students under his wing. Hell, Nadia reminded him of his little sister Miranda, and if anyone had been putting Miranda down like he was putting down Nadia, he'd have been the first to her defense.

But he'd made a promise to everyone. Rex pulled at the length of Bessie the cow's tail hair Marge had given him, winding the braided string around his fingers. The string was supposed to remind him what he was fighting for, the family who cared about him and his friends back home. Marge had always been sentimental like that.

This was the Hunger Games. He couldn't be Mr. Nice Guy here, he wasn't supposed to help, he was here to kill everyone and go back home.

So, he ignored his stinging conscience and shot another cold smirk at Nadia. Ignoring the way she was almost completely folded in on herself, snuggling into the cushion with her little polar bear doll.

The escort in front of him was still prattling on, "Rex, dear, you'll be going with Kiye, and Nadia here will go with Hera, sound good?"

Rex nodded half-heartedly and quickly strode into the room the escort had pointed towards. He'd heard of his mentor of course, everyone in the District had. Kiye Turk, the pseudo-career from District Ten who had fought his way through the games, killing off two careers and fighting any others across his way. He'd been an unstoppable force, gaining new allies by fighting them, then deeming if they were worthy. If they weren't they were treated as servants of a sort, then killed quite soon later on in the Games.

So, it was perfectly reasonable for him to feel apprehensive at meeting his mentor. He was literally about to step into a room with a serial killer.

Birds of a feather flock together, eh? In a few days, he'll be lucky if he got to be a serial killer.

Rex nervously pulled out a chair before turning to his mentor. He was just like how others described him, a white mask obscuring half his face.

"Mr. Turk, how do I win the Games?" Rex winced at the way his voice nearly cracked in the middle. He'd been going for tough and strong, but he'd just ruined the effect. Gee, off to a great start Rex, next you'll be stuttering. He'd basically held up a giant billboard with the words 'I'm faking this! I'm nervous!' and shoved it in his mentor's face.

Fortunately, his mentor seemed to be completely oblivious. Grinning, he swung his legs down from the table and turned to Rex, "I like you, kid. You have the right mindset." He grabbed a handful of sweets before continuing, "Yes, I was a kid like you once. Then I got into the arena." Kiye chuckled, "I went in swinging, coming out with the highest kill count of any non-career."

Rex nodded along, pretending he agreed with everything his mentor was saying. He just needed to be tough, and commanding, and not try to help anyone along or anything stupid like that.

Kiye grabbed another handful of candy, "So you go in swinging, no hesitation. Show 'em you're not to be messed with right from the start."

"What about alliances, sir? Should I form any, or should I strike out and fight alone?" Adding fight and strike out to the sentence made him seem more violent and bloodthirsty, which was good, as long as he could it off convincingly. From the look on his mentor's face, or at least what he could see currently since the mask made judging hard, he was doing great.

"Hah! If they can keep up with your pace and don't slow you down, sure, I guess." He grinned through the mask, "But always make sure they're worthy first." Rex hoped Kiye didn't see his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed, the image of his mentor's famous branding floating to the front of his mind. That year's Games made him sick, and he knew there was no way he was following his mentor's path, at least not in that respect.

"But don't count on anyone having your back when things get messy." The man suddenly looked serious, "I had someone who stabbed me in the back." His face was grim as he talked.

"But I got them back for it." And the jolliness was back. Kiye grinned at Rex, bumping him as if they were sharing an inside joke, "They were sorry they ever messed with me!"

Rex did his best to seem like he got the joke, "Yes, and they'll be sorry they ever messed with me in the arena as well."

"That's the spirit, kid." Kiye crowed, "But now, let's talk about your weapons." He rubbed his hands together with glee, "So what can you do kid? I had a flanged mace in the arena, and Aslan helped me all the way through. Do you remember Aslan, boy?"

At this point Rex had to make a giant physical effort to not shudder. He remembered the weapon yes, he still had vivid memories of watching a tribute's head get crushed like a watermelon underneath Kiye's assault. His mentor hadn't been satisfied with just one swing, instead he'd taken eight. By the time the hovercraft came to pick up the body, the boy had been unrecognizable while Kiye was covered from head to toe with red goop. When he was six, he'd watched the scene on screen as part of the mandatory viewing. Little Rex Donovan had had nightmares for weeks, scared 'Tribute Kiye' would come to get him one day.

What was he good at? He knew how to use a butcher's knife because he was the only one left to do the hard task, and he could use a whip if he wanted to. But was he really good with them? No time to debate this now though.

"I'm good with a knife or a whip." That sounded assertive enough, right? Listing two weapons made for a good impression at least, most likely did anyway.

Kiye seemed to be fine with it, "Good. Use those. Show off a little during training, try to intimidate some tributes, be mean to the littles to reinforce your strong look." Be mean to the Game littles? Some of them were Miranda's age, innocent littles with no chance of surviving. And here he was, ruining their last days for them.

But he needed to go home, and if that meant being someone he loathed, he'll do it.

Rex just hoped he didn't let the mask slip, something he was already finding difficult to do.

Nadia Ceana, 16, D10

Nadia wasn't sure what to do when she met her mentor, though not for any of the reasons she thought she'd be. Hera wasn't intimidating like Rex and his mentor, Kiye. She wasn't cold or anything. She hadn't yet told her she had no chance.

No, her main problem was that she was asleep.

Nadia nervously reached out a hand, lightly poking Hera in the side for the sixth time, "Um, Ms. Karpusi? Can you please wake up? Or not, that's also fine with me, haha." Hera slept on. Mentally, Nadia cursed herself, she couldn't even sound forceful to a sleeping person. What was she going to do now? She needed her mentor's advice or she was going to die in the Games.

Even with her mentor's advice her chances weren't looking great.

"Miss Karpusi?" Nadia tried again, poking her mentor a little harder. This time, Hera shifted, turning over and rubbing her eyes. Nadia quickly scooted away as her mentor opened her eyes, not wanting to be seen as creep by her sole lifeline in the arena.

Nadia tensed as Hera's calculating green eyes scanned her, clouded by sleep yet still analytical, not daring to hug Kumajuro in case Hera also thought she was a lost case. She looked like a housecat waiting lazily watching a sparrow, waiting to see if it would be worth catching. Her mentor nodded to herself, reaching out and putting one of her cats onto her lap and playing with them. By this point, Nadia wasn't even sure if Hera was still aware she was there. That did tend to happen, being forgotten by people who'd seen her only seconds ago.

"We need to talk about your strategy in the Games." Seems like she hadn't forgotten. Nadia wasn't sure whether to be relieved, on the one hand, she could get advice, on the other hand, conversing one-on-one with a Victor was rather nerve wracking.

"Y-yes? Okay..." She was trailing off at the end of her sentences, that wasn't good. Nadia smiled ruefully, looks like the mysterious and silent approach was out the window. It wasn't like she could fool Hera either, the Victor had won by using her opponent's insecurities and convincing them to kill themselves. She probably already knew Nadia was a doormat.

Those calculating green eyes fixed on her again. Hera yawned, scratching her cat behind the ears before continuing, "You're not a fighter." That stung a bit, but nothing she didn't already know. She was scared to even make conversation or speak up sometimes, so, it was safe to say fighting was out the window along with her mysterious approach. "Try to learn some decent survival skills during training."

She could do that. She already had a little bit of experience back home identifying plants, and she had always beaten Al at knot tying back home, one of the few things she outshone her brother in. She could also start a small fire, but building shelters seemed kind of hard. However, these years indoor Games were becoming more and more fashionable, so maybe she didn't need to worry about that. What could she do with those skills though?

She could run around, hide, and hope everybody forgets about her, but that wouldn't work again. After that boy from nine had made it through the Games by camouflaging himself so well even the Gamemakers forgot he was there, the Gamemakers had always made sure to kill off boring tributes, or push them into a fight, which was equally terrible for her since she practically couldn't defend herself, never mind straight up attack someone.

Hera had already continued, "During the Games, the Gamemakers will push you into someone, but you'll usually have a chance. One tribute getting easily overpowered by another is no fun for the audience to watch." That was great, now she knew the person she'll be forced to fight wouldn't be a career, or a vast majority of the other tributes. She'll only have to try to kill a twelve-year-old in cold blood then. Somehow Nadia doubted her own ability to do even that.

"When they push you towards someone, get hurt a little by the event used, for example if they use fireballs, get a minor burn." Get hurt by the Gamemakers on purpose? She could never be that cold and detached from her own pain, "Otherwise it seems like you're one-upping the Capitol, just give them what they want instead. Make sure it's a small injury though, and don't injure anywhere that restricts mobility too much."

Nadia nodded, shunting the prospect of letting the Capitol torture her into the back of her mind. The acid wave from the forty-sixth was still fresh in her mind, and she was pretty sure she wouldn't be able to get a 'small injury' from that. Still, Hera was a Victor and she knew nothing about surviving the Games by herself. It was always best to stay on her mentor and the Capitol's good side.

Hera had stopped talking, simply staring at Nadia as she stroked her cat. Nadia gulped, was she supposed to do something? Offer a clever tactic? Right now, her sole plan was running and hiding, not exactly brilliant enough to talk about in front of the 'Smart Victor'.

"Is there anything else I need to do?" Fortunately, it seemed Hera was waiting for that exact question. The looks Nadia got now was completely focused, any trace of her mentor's former sleepiness gone from her eyes.

"Yes. In order to win, you need to be memorable." A hysterical laugh nearly forced itself out of her throat at the thought. In order to survive she had to be memorable? She'd spent her entire life being the exact opposite of that, an no matter how much she tried, that won't change any time soon, or ever. Maybe at least until she's gutted onscreen by a bloodthirsty career because she wasn't 'memorable' enough to win.

But Hera wasn't done yet, "The only for someone like you to be memorable is to put on a show for the audience." Her catlike green eyes fixed on Nadia, now looking more like a panther ready to pounce than a docile pet.

"Find someone, not too cute and small since then the audience will be upset, and kill them as cruelly as possible. It's best even, to develop your own style and mark."

Rex Donovan, 17, D10

Rex gazed out the window, watching the scenery rush past. District Two was quite different from District Ten, instead of space for livestock, there were crowded living areas clustered among gray mountains looming overhead.

After their talk, the escort had announced they were nearing the Capitol and Kiye had told him to get some rest before appearing in front of the Capitol. His mentor had chuckled and told him to prepare to be amazed by his first sight of the Capitol.

But nothing in his wildest dreams could have prepared him for this.

The gray landscape of District Two quickly passed in a blur, bursting into the colorful splendor of the Capitol. In contrast to the previous District's monotonous grayness, the Capitol rose before him like a fantastical dream brought to life. It was a riot of colors and shapes, buildings adorned with swirling patterns and vibrant hues that seemed to defy gravity. Towers stretched towards the sky, their facades adorned with intricate carvings and shimmering mosaics that seemed to catch the sunlight in a thousand different hues. Rex craned his neck, used to the low, squat buildings of District Ten, trying to find the top, but as far as he could see, the towers disappeared into wispy white clouds.

Everywhere he looked, there were signs of excess – extravagant gardens where trees dripped with golden fruit, never to be picked, blooming with exotic flowers and sculpted topiary, creating an illusion of perpetual spring. Shimmering fountains with marble statues spewing clear streams of water flanked streets bustling with people dressed in outlandish outfits that screamed extravagance. Green dresses studded with emeralds, each of which could have fed an orphanage for days. Necklaces with jewels the size of apricots were worn casually, as if they were mere trinkets.

The train gently slowed to a stop, the doors sliding smoothly open until Rex stood facing a sea of faces. As he stepped forward, people rushed towards him, kept back only by the few guards standing around the train. Scanning the crowd, all Rex could find was almost childlike glee and excitement as reporters struggled to shout out questions and citizens tried to get closer to the tributes.

Rex felt a cold shiver travel up his spine at the crowd's reaction, as if they were seeing their favorite actors from a TV show instead of children they had just doomed to slaughter. Here in the Capitol, everything seemed larger than life, a world where the Hunger Games, the District's greatest fear, was covered with glitter and shine, distorted and turned into a comedy. Here in the Capitol, he was nothing, his fate completely dictated by the whims of the elite.

"You coming, Rex?" Kiye clapped him on the back before stepping out, the throng parting around him as the guards pushed them away, clearing a small path for the tributes to the tribute center. Turning around, Kiye beckoned towards him, grinning as he waved. Rex swallowed, banishing his nervousness and slipping on his tough guy mask, and stepped out the train into Panem's city of blood and splendor.

Please R+R. Reviews would probably make me feel like Sealand if he's recognized as a country XD (though I wouldn't yet know *le sigh* *glances at absolutely empty review slot*).