CW: General Capitol creepiness, undertones of racism

Cole Beckham, 16, District Twelve Male

"Up, up, up! It's going to be a big, big, day!"

The sound of Effie Trinket's voice brought Cole out of the most restless slumber he ever had the displeasure of enduring. Sure enough, the sun was shining bright outside the train window. Cole sighed and rubbed his eyes. "Be out in a sec, Miss Trinket," he called out.

How was it that a sleepless night felt like forever but went by in the blink of an eye at the same time? It was almost criminal. Cole had hoped he'd get at least a few hours after sinking into the bed that was a thousand times softer than the straw mattress he had at home, but he couldn't stop thinking about his mother and brother hours after he was reaped. How were they going to make it without his income?

His eyes began to burn with anxiety as his hand subconsciously fell on the wedding band around his neck. This was all so unfair. Hadn't the Beckhams lost enough? It was almost like the world was out to get him.

Cole took a deep breath and sat up. He couldn't afford to cry, not yet, not when there could be a camera on him at any time. Realistically, there wouldn't be, but rumors of hidden cameras on the trains, watching the tributes' every moves for the Gamemakers to analyze, were too prominent in the Seam to ignore.

He would not let them see him cry.

Cole climbed out of bed, shivering as the blankets slid free of his shoulders and leaving his arms exposed to the chilly air of the train compartment.

He then stood up and began opening the drawers, looking for something to wear. Everything was all too frilly or opulent looking for his tastes. Just one of those shirts could feed his family for months. Cole's head spun at the thought.

Cole eventually gave up on finding something new to wear and instead settled on his shirt and trousers from the day before. The shirt was too big and the pants were too tight, but at least they were familiar. He did decide to forgo his old socks for a pair of soft clean ones, not caring that the expensive fabric was being stained with the coal dust still clinging to his boots. He left his hair as it was, not wanting to erase his mother's hard work just yet. Then, with one last deep breath and a squeeze of the ring for comfort and stability, he exited the cabin and joined everyone at the dining car.

Just the sight of the breakfast platter laid out before him overwhelmed him all over again. He had never seen so much food in his life. Judging by the look on Amoransia's face as he joined her, Effie, and Kaia at the table, she clearly felt the same.

Would all of this even be eaten? What would happen to the leftovers? Would they just be thrown away? As one last slap in the face to the people starving in the districts?

The thought caused a brief flash of disdain as he began loading his plate up as much as he could, ignoring Effie's quip regarding his manners.

Kaia's advice was at least delivered more gently. "Be careful," she warned. "You don't want to overeat. That food's super rich and will make you sick if you aren't used to it."

The way Kaia said that, like she spoke from experience, gave Cole pause. Still, he slapped one more biscuit onto his plate before he sat down.

"So what's the plan for today?" Amoransia asked between bites of pancakes.

"Well," Kaia began, "we'll be at the Capitol soon. From there, they'll clean you up and you'll meet Cinna and Portia. They'll get you dressed for tonight."

Cole's breath hitched. The parade. Before a few years ago, it was always skimpy coal miner outfits. Ever since Cinna came to the helm, fire was incorporated into his designs for the tributes. Fire was originally Katniss Everdeen's motif, but Kaia took it on herself the moment she started that fire in her arena. Whatever Cole would be wearing tonight, it was bound to be fire related.

The thought filled him with exhilaration and dread. Exhilaration at making an impression, and dread at being burned alive, like his father was. (Cole knew the fire was safe, but still, how could he not be concerned?)

Either way, Cole was bound to make an impression. As the Capitol came into view, it gave him a sense of hope.

Leonie Everett, 17, District Five Female

The Capitol was everything Leonie imagined and more. It was a far cry from the dreary place she had come from, perfect in every way. She hadn't even stepped inside the shining city yet, and she knew this was where she was meant to be.

Her district partner stood at the window as they pulled into the station, gaping at the magnificence. Despite being newly single, he had taken to her flirting quite well.

"It's incredible," he breathed. "Who knows how many people are there waiting to see me?"

Leonie moved to where she was in full view of the window, ignoring the grunt of protest Vaughn made as he was unceremoniously nudged aside. He could deal with it. It was her pretty face the crowd would be looking for, no matter what Vaughn told himself.

Despite being newly single, Vaughn had taken quite well to Leonie's flirting. It certainly helped that Leonie had dropped hints that an alliance between them was essential for their (and by that, Leonie meant his) survival.

The windows went dark as the train entered the tunnel. Leonie could feel the train slow to a stop, and soon, the sound of cheers began to reverberate through the tunnel and into the train car. Sure enough, the darkness was replaced by bright lights and colors as what had to be hundreds of Capitolites, with their finery and wealth, came into view. The roar of the crowd was almost deafening, even on the train, but to Leonie, it was everything.

Leonie put on her most charming smile and waved to the crowd, fighting to urge to roll her eyes when she saw Vaughn's feeble attempts to do the same thing. Did he seriously think the crowd would pay any attention to a brute like him? Sure, it was possible that he could catch a few glimpses with his admittedly impressive muscles and the way he carried himself, but soon, they'd realize that there was nothing interesting about him at all, aside from their "budding romance" and let one of the other tributes get him.

Of course, it was possible that Leonie would tire of his attitude and take care of him herself. That would certainly get her sponsors, creating drama for the audience and ridding Five of a parasite. Two birds with one stone, or knife, in this case.

Alas, Leonie knew she needed allies going into the Games. Her main weapon was her words, and those would only get her so far against a Career hellbent on taking her head off. She needed some muscle, and Vaughn was the logical choice. He could be the brawn to her brains and do the fighting for her in the bloodbath. Beyond that, he was just extra muscle, but was there anything really wrong with that?

No, as annoying Vaughn was, he was unfortunately still useful. She wasn't stupid though. She knew Vaughn would be more than willing to kill her when the time came, so she had to give him a reason not to.

The crowd cheered louder when they saw just how much Leonie was engaging with him. She got the sneaking suspicion that not many tributes did this. They were either too busy moping around or had their heads so far up their rear ends that they didn't understand that the people currently cheering in the train station had money, lots of it, and played a huge role in whether which tributes lived to fight another day, or were left cooling in the hovercraft, forgotten. Not Leonie though. She understood the power that these people had.

And that was what would keep her alive.

Now, she just had to get her obnoxious, bitchy mentor to play nice.

Lucian "Luce" Visser, 18, District Four Male

The moment Luce stepped off of the train and into the waiting crowd was the moment he had been waiting for for years. He found himself gripping the railing for support as he shakily stepped off the train. Last thing he needed was to trip and fall on national television. Still, he couldn't help but smile at all the people cheering "District Four! District Four!"

Four may have been in the doghouse in the eyes of the government, but the people of the Capitol were still happy to see him and Becket.

Annie immediately pressed her hands to her ears and squeezed her eyes shut. Luce reached for her, but Demetria, his and Becket's escort, held her hand up, carefully took Annie's shoulders, and led her back onto the train, leaving Luce and Becket alone with the Peacekeepers.

Luce felt a twinge of both pity and worry. He pitied Annie, who was exempt from mentoring up until the Quell when they dragged her out into the spotlight because "there weren't enough victors." He wasn't as well versed in the going ons of politics and the Games as either he or his instructors would have liked, but even he knew that was a load of rough. The Capitol was just pissed off at Finnick, and wanted to punish him even more than they already did when they sent his cousin and last remaining family into the Games two years ago. Now Annie was overwhelmed and out of her depth.

The worry was for himself and Becket. Without his mentor or escort there, it was just the two of them and several Peacekeepers.

Becket immediately began greeting the crowd with a smile and a wave, and seeing that made Luce's training kick in.

He smiled and waved, playing to the cameras just like he was taught to do so. Becket turned to look at him and smile. "Shall we make our alliance official?" she asked, extending her hand.

Luce grinned. "Sure. Why not?" He took her hand and the two tributes raised them upwards. The crowd cheered louder at this show of district pride.

"I'm looking forward to meeting the others," Luce said quietly as they walked. "I hope this alliance meshes well."

"I hope so too, but we shouldn't get our hopes up," Becket replied. "I like Zhenya, but something's off about the other three. I'd rather get to know them before we make a firm decision."

"So…we might not go with the traditional Career pack?"

"I'm sure we will. I'm just concerned about potential problems in the arena. Like one of them being a backstabber or a torturer or something. We have a duty to keep these kids safe."

Luce had to try not to frown. Keep them safe? From being tortured? From being killed? While Luce didn't like the idea of torturing someone, there was something strange about how Becket worded that statement.

Still, he didn't want to potentially start an argument in front of everyone, so he filed away that concern for later on. He couldn't help but feel both jealous at and annoyed with just how…morally upstanding Becket was. On one hand, he was curious to see if Becket would stick to those morals…assuming they weren't an act to begin with, or if she would abandon them if push came to shove. On the other hand, he did hope Becket would be able to do…whatever it was she came to do, even though he suddenly wasn't entirely convinced that winning was a perk rather than an objective.

"Yeah," Luce breathed. "Duty. Gotta show the world that District Four isn't full of traitors."

Becket chuckled. "That too."

Luce wasn't sure what to think of that response. What he did know, however, was that if Becket was being genuine, Luce could trust her not to put something sharp into his back.

He just hoped she was being genuine.

Tal "Tali" Comgan, 15, District Eleven Female

The moment Tali stepped off the train, and into the waiting custody of Peacekeepers, she was greeted by the sound of a hundred people cheering for her and Florin.

Tali jumped at the suddenness of it all, completely caught off guard by the screams and shouts of so many people in such little space.

Some members of the crowd reached out to touch her, but Thresh's imposing figure appearing behind her put a stop to any of that, much to Tali's relief. Something about these people touching her did not sit right with her. It was sick, how they seemed to cheer for her being here but were most certainly cheering for the moment she died.

The people of the Capitol were deplorable for not only allowing a cruel spectacle like the Hunger Games to go on, but for celebrating it as well.

Positivity, Tali, Tali told herself. Positivity.

Tali took a deep breath, put on a smile, and joined Florin in waving to the crowd as they were nudged down the platform and towards the exit.

The crowd seemed to respond well to them, or more than likely, Florin, given that he seemed to be a natural at playing the crowd. No doubt sponsors would be lining up soon.

That gave Tali mixed feelings. She and Florin might have been opponents, but they were both from the same district. A win for Florin was a win for Eleven, even if Tali herself would be dead and gone and unable to see that win for herself.

Eventually, the three of them were led into a waiting car. Thresh stopped short of the curb, prompting both her and Florin to look back. "You're not coming with us?" Florin asked.

Thresh shook his head. "No, you're going to the remake center. I'm going to the tribute center. I will see you tonight after the parade."

"What should we expect?" Tal asked, suddenly worried. "At the remake center."

Thresh frowned. "They'll clean you up. Just don't whine."

Real helpful, Tali thought, as she was not so gently pushed into the car. Florin was pushed in right behind her followed by a lone peacekeeper. "Seatbelts," the peacekeeper ordered.

"Seatbelts?" Tal asked, confused by the sudden order.

"Now," the Peacekeeper replied gruffly. "You go into the arena no matter how badly you're injured if there's an accident, even if we have to blow your corpse off the pedestal."

Tal didn't have to be told twice, not with the thought of such a gruesome fate suddenly emblazoned in her mind. She hated how it seemed to squeeze her midsection and slice into her neck, and she certainly wasn't a fan of how the car seemed to jolt, sway, and cause her stomach to churn. A sudden stop nearly sent her breakfast back up, and it even had the driver of the car swearing, something about a blinker.

Finally, the ride came to an end, and Tali didn't need the Peacekeeper's "encouragement" to exit the vehicle.

"How do you ride in these death traps every single day?" Tali breathed.

The peacekeeper didn't respond, and simply nudged Tali forward.

"Seriously, how do you do this?" Florin asked.

The peacekeeper sighed. "They're not all like that. People are just idiots."

As Tali was led into the remake center and given a paper gown, she hoped that the car ride from hell would be the worst part of her day. She realized how wrong she was very quickly once her prep team got to work.

Still, she was careful not to whine. Even as they seemed to rip a layer of her skin off with those accursed waxes and tugged violently at her braids. "Are these real?" she swore she heard one of them breathe. "What the heck is that supposed to mean?" Tal wanted to shout, but remembering Thresh's warning, kept her mouth shut. There were several times she worried that she showed signs of weakness. These people, with their brightly colored hair and tattoos and dyed eyes, it was like they could smell fear.

Oh well.

It could have been much much worse.

After all, the Games didn't start for another week!

Zhenya Katolin, 18, District 2 Male

Zhenya wasn't even off of the train yet, and he was already blown away. He wasn't even twenty-four hours into the journey and he was already starting to get the taste of freedom that the Capitolites enjoyed. The people who cheered for him and Macha at the train station, in their bright colors and bright smiles, and how they expressed themselves in ways that Zhenya had only dreamed of, they were who Zhenya had yearned to be his entire life.

He didn't need to force a smile of his own this time. He beamed at the cheering mob just outside the train window and he waved enthusiastically at them, and they waved back. Zhenya's smile only grew wider, his face almost hurting from the exertion.

"It's definitely even better up close, don't you think?"

Zhenya's gaze briefly drifted over to Macha, who wore a soft smile of her own. He then turned back to the Capitol crowds. "Yeah, it is."

It was a dream come true.

"Just wait," Mako added. "It gets better."

Was it just Zhenya's imagination, or was there a hint of sadness in her voice?

~ASM~

Everything in Zhenya's body itched and stung by the time his prep team was done with him. They seemed so thrilled that Zhenya was willing to make conversation with them. Apparently, not many tributes were willing to do that. It made sense, considering that the prep team consisted of triplets that were promoted from District Nine just last year. And District Nine was not as enthusiastic about the Games as Two was. That didn't make it any less strange to hear.

The wait for his stylist couldn't have lasted more than a few minutes, but it felt like hours without anyone to make conversation with. Zhenya found himself wondering about his friends and family back home. Was Kane wearing that striped shirt again? Did Moraine take his poetry lessons to heart? Was Aries able to tell the difference between Moraine's work and his? Had Shiloh stopped crying for him? Were his parents confident he would make it back? These questions swirled in Zhenya's head, but despite that, he had no regrets.

Why would he? This was his chance to be himself for once.

The door slid open, jolting Zhenya from his thoughts, and a young, white-haired man that could only be the renowned Caelus Begonia walked in, with a friendly smile on his face.

"Hey there," Caelus greeted. "You must be Zhenya Katolin."

Zhenya found himself smiling once again. "That's me. And you're Caelus, right?"

Caelus chuckled. "Please, call me Cael. Everyone calls me that."

Zhenya nodded. "Cael it is. It's such an honor to meet you. You're such an awesome stylist!"

A funny look twisted onto Cael's face, and Zhenya felt a spike of panic. Then, Cael started laughing, and he suddenly felt worried that he had said something wrong. "I'm sorry," he stuttered. "Did I…" His voice trailed off.

"No, no, I'm sorry," Cael replied. "Normally, when people meet me, they immediately ask about my sister."

"The Head Gamemaker, right?" Zhenya asked as relief washed over him.

"That's her." Pride swelled in Cael's voice. "Enough about us Begonias though. How are you adjusting to all of this?"

"It's been amazing," Zhenya replied. "This city's been amazing."

Cael smiled warmly. "I'm glad you enjoy it, and believe me, it's only going to get better. Now, I had some ideas on what I could put you in tonight. Approved by my kids and everything. I was hoping to get your input though."

"Your kids?"

Cael's smile widened. "Yeah, Thayer and Lucina. They're eight and two. It's Bring Your Kid to Work Day at the University, so Lars in charge today. I just hope they're not giving him any trouble."

Zhenya laughed, his heart swelling. "They sound adorable. Your family sounds amazing."

"Thank you. That means a lot. Hopefully you'll like these as much as they do." Cael pulled out his sketchbook, and as they conversed, Zhenya couldn't help but feel like he had just made a friend.

Ebony Warwick, 16, District Seven Female

Less than twenty-four hours after being reaped and Ebony's fury still had yet to subside. In her defense, it was hard to calm down when there was a Peacekeeper watching her every move and her district partner looked at her with such…murderous disdain.

Then, she was shoved out of the train into a hoard of "adoring fans" who only cared about her because they would get to watch her die just like her Uncle Cedar.

"They just want a good show," Finnick told her for what seemed like the millionth time as they walked down the platform. "Remember that."

Oh, Ebony was more than happy to give them a good show. A good showing of her third finger from the left. The resulting gasps and cries of disdain were music to her ears.

Ha! They were more than happy with seeing children slaughtered on live television but were offended by a sixteen-year-old giving them the bird?

Finnick quickly pulled Ebony's arm down. "What the hell is wrong with you?" he hissed. "You're on national television! Are you trying to make these people hate you?"

"Not my fault they're a bunch of little-"

Something hard struck Ebony's back, and she found herself stumbling forward. "Shut up and walk," the peacekeeper behind her snarled.

Ebony rolled her eyes but obliged. As much as she wanted to tell that bootlicker Peacekeeper, that stupid pretty boy Finnick Odair, her idiot of a district partner, and every single one of these airheaded, entitled, pieces of human garbage exactly how she felt, it wasn't worth going into the arena with a broken leg over.

The next few hours were agonizing for Ebony. First, they took her reaping day clothes away from her, including her favorite jacket, and forced her into a thin paper robe that did nothing to keep the cold air of the Remake Center from biting into her. Then, they brought her back to Beauty Base Zero, as they called it, which was incredibly painful, especially once they waxed her legs. She swore loudly when they started and was swiftly admonished for her language.

"Try recovering from plastic surgery," one of the people working on her said. "That's pain right there."

So is being fatally wounded in the Hunger Games… Ebony thought bitterly.

To add insult to injury, once again, the idiot stylist decided it was a good idea to put Ebony in yet another tree costume. It was absolutely ridiculous looking, and Ebony knew it would do nothing to win over the crowd…not that she cared.

One perk of the outfit though was that it had pockets, perfect for slipping one of her stylists expensive looking rings when she took it off to go wash her hands before the parade started. What she was planning on doing with it, Ebony couldn't say, but it felt nice knowing she could get one little victory over the pigs that were responsible for sending her to her death.

Her sense of pride withered into jealous rage when she saw Gideon's chariot outfit. Unlike her stylist, who always put the girls in the same costume year after year, Gideon looked stunning in his own outfit, meant to be that of an asper tree in autumn. Red leaves were placed in his curly hair, and rather than a bodysuit, he wore a subtle, yet defined suit of armor that looked to be made of wood. He looked at her with disdain as she stepped up into the chariot, and Ebony decided that she had had enough, enough of the weird looks, enough of the Capitol, enough of all of this.

"What the hell is your problem?" Ebony hissed. "You do realize we're district partners, right?"

Gideon just regarded her with a steely cold gaze. "Yes, I do."

"Then why are you being an ass?"

Gideon shook his head. "The only one being an ass around here is you. Also, forgive me for not being entirely enthusiastic at the idea of a criminal being my district partner."

Ebony glowered. "You don't know a damn thing about me."

"And I don't need to. That orange jumpsuit of yours told me all I needed to know."

Ebony rolled her eyes and turned her gaze forward. She wanted so badly to shove Gideon out of the chariot in front of the entire country, but someone had to be the bigger person.

As the chariot lurched forward and the anthem began, Ebony continued to scowl, ignoring her stylist's orders to smile.

Why should she? She had yet to find a reason.

*sighs in relief* Finally! We are so back everyone! I'm finally moved, and I was finally able to sit down and write! I hope you all enjoyed this chapter! The next chapter will be the parade and the end of the first round of POVs, with Jann, Florin, Caden, Rhys, Vaughn, and Hoover! After that, we'll check in with our non-tribute friends and then it's time first training!

Any predictions for alliances?