I don't get a good night's sleep. That, at this point, is something theoretical. Instead, I'm awoken to the sounds of a slamming door and somebody running in. Their heels are tapping against the floor like a horse's hooves, and yet sticking my head outside to try and see whatever the hell is going on is met by Skye noticing and placing herself in front of the door. "Not yet, Millie. Back to bed. Good choice with the nightdress, by the way. Capitol likes to focus a lot on form over function."

Before I can go back to bed, I can see a hand tap Skye's shoulder, and the woman withdraws in place of a blonde I could swear I've seen before, offering a hand I take. She's short, shorter than me, and incredibly pretty. "Hey, Millie! I'm Citrine." Withdrawing her hand I'm given a little bow, and then she, Citrine, is smiling. "So you're the one Dazzle's brother knows? Makes sense." A laugh, and then I can see that trademark wink. "I'm sure you'll do fine. Get some rest, now. Don't want any shit stirring for the big day, and it's bad luck to fuck with someone else's Tribute. Go to bed, k? Oh, good luck!"

A slightly concerning smile slips over her lips. "You're gonna need it." Then she's gone, and Skye is shutting my door. Not exactly the wakening I'd hoped for, but I manage to get another couple hours of sleep before I'm woken up by Elise clapping. "Up, up, up! You need to go earlier today, we're not having another sandwich." This feels like a bridge too far, but given my clothes are hung on the rack besides me there's little protest I can muster as I'm ushered into the bathroom.

If possible, the shower is better than yesterday. Yes, it's not as novel, but the novelty is replaced with the excitement of all these new buttons to press with no actual guarantee as to what they do. One brings down a piled green foam onto my hair that smells (and doesn't taste) like the apples you can sometimes find shopping at home. It's a nice smell, the kind that reminds me of home, and for a second, then a few. Well, I feel a lot of regret. Regret that I'll never get to see home again, regret I didn't say some things I probably should have to Ma and Corin.

Then, of course, the regret is gone. Largely due to the suds now piling around my face like some pile of dust blown from the wastes outwards and into the city. We get those all too often, piled up against the door where if we were on a main street it'd be blown off by clearing crews overnight. It's a few minutes' sweeping, sure, but a few minutes is an awful lot of time in some worlds. Like Five.

Still, no time to dwell when there's so many other features I haven't explored. A rain of pink bubbles that bounce like balls and pop when touched, the water going boiling hot and icy cold, flow suddenly getting so hard it's all I can do not to collapse under the crushing weight of water. It takes me a good twenty minutes, and when I've redressed into the tunic and trousers and pulled on the belt that's been added to the rack, Elise is tapping her foot outside. "We're going to be late!", and in this instant I think she feels more like Theodosia than I should say.

So I don't say that, smiling and nodding. "I wanted to look nice." Elise's face softens a little at this. "You should try it all out. It's fun, at the least, more than the early kids got, before the Capitol went and splurged on the Training Center. Just maybe not when we're in the middle of getting you ready and presentable, yeah?" "Yeah."

That sorted, breakfast is pretty much the same as usual. The food is all out, I go and grab half of what I took yesterday. Getting back to my seat and willing to go back for a second serving only if I need it, the servants, or whatever I should call them, drop one off once I finish. As if I don't have enough on my plate already, now I have to try and thank them, which I do with a smile and a laugh from Theodosia because "Millie, they're Avoxes. It's what they're meant to do."

I'm relieved, at least, to see that it's not just me. That everyone's looking at her, save for Robin who's got fried potato on the end of a fork, as if she's said something incredibly insulting. She probably has, but after a moment it's friendly chatter. "So, Millie," Robin, sounding a lot older. "Have you got any allies?" His tone's a little plaintive, and I can only nod. "Yes, I have. Well, I think. Elise, have they?" "They have." A relieved smile from me, and it's all confirmed. "Yes, then, Robin. I have got allies. How did you find the ones you were meant to get on with."

He beams a smile, August is frantically slashing his hand across his throat, and for the next five minutes I'm treated to a detailed explanation of all of Robin's allies while I can watch August miming bored drinking water in an attempt to wait out the storm. I'm assuming it's a mime, at least, because he's pouring from that bottle into his glass like he'll die without liquid in constant motion. The water's flowing out, when it slips back into the bottle leaving an oily residue until Indra reaches in and moves the bottle away.

Robin finishes with a 'so that's Pistachio!', and that moment is chosen for an intervention. Soleil, who has red-rimmed eyes and red-ringed wrists, leans in and sets her hands on her lap in time to give a wink to Robin. "Don't want to be revealing all your secrets now, kid. Trust me, I know. Been a champion at keeping secrets for quite a while now, nine years or so." She sounds better, even if there's some undertone behind her words I'm not picking up on.

Robin clams up, and from there I'm content to just eat, until the alarm on Elise's wrist chimes, and Theodosia stands up with a prim smile at the Victors. "I'll be taking the children down again!" There's a groan when she says this, and soon enough Robin and I are in the elevator as she smiles. "Sorry I was not around yesterday, children! I had some busy times, and the Sponsors were ever so excited to hear about you on the stage! Now, have we got any plans for today? Something I can share? Millie!"

I could give her the truth, instead I try to fob her off with some lies about wanting to explore knives and better acquaint myself with the traps on display. All absolute rubbish, but she seems to love it from the grin and 'surreptitious' wink passed my way. Then Robin, who manages in the short elevator journey to bore me nearly to tears going on about his plans. There's approximately a million different things he describes as wanting to try, and by the time the elevator arrives at the destination he's barely halfway done. Rather than being ushered out of the elevator, though, Theodosia comes with us this time and chatters the whole way.

Her laugh is already grating at me, even if I'm gritting my teeth to ignore it. "Come on, now, Millie! You know, I know an Emilia, maybe the similar names-" I grit my teeth, willing the stop will help. It does not. "Will mean she'll sponsor. Worth a try, Millie I'll get onto that!" A laugh, and the Fours are passing by, the girl winking at Robin (who promptly bursts into tears.

It's all I can do not to console him, because I shouldn't get any more attached than I absolutely have to. Odds are he dies, and as much as I hate that, well. If it's what has to be, it's what has to be. My heart does melt a little when he gives me a good luck handshake, promises me that "We can always be allies, if yours doesn't work out," and runs off.

Then it's off, for me, to have a nosey around. Weapons is full, now, of nervous newcomers. Having their first go with axe, spear, sword as if they were going to become some kind of master in three days. Two, now, actually. All the recognizable weapons, the ones that come up year after year have shivering boys and girls learning how to use them as if it's going to help them in the long run. So I stay away.

Besides, there's the occasional mess. Like Nine, with a spear in her hands and trying to fend off weak axe blows from a trainer holding it with a practiced ease. She shuffles back, blocks one, two. Falls to the ground, blocks a third and then a fourth. The fifth finds her head, and there's a brief cry of pain before she gets up, slams the spear into a bracket and storms out towards edible plants.

Like Two, who's fighting two trainers and beating both. One has a machete, the other a trident. They're both playing clumsy, as if they're not practiced fighters but Tributes who're in way over their head and frantically trying to save themselves. They manage to hold her off, until she slips under the swinging machete and drives one knife into padded training armour until it flashes red, faces the trident wielder and lands a long slash to their arm, before scoring a red streak that would be a slit throat.

It draws shivers from me, a rare experience given where I'm from, which is why I head over to the opposite corner as if that's granting me any shelter. Kneel down with the camouflage equipment, and begin painting daubs of green and brown up my arm. The trainer hovers over my shoulder, giving pointers and advice as if I'm a child in need of coaching in finger-painting. Which, to be fair, I effectively am.

Six is over, just like yesterday refusing to talk to everyone. Her fingers move in deceptively elegant patterns, painting swirls up her arm and along her face in ochre reds and dull browns until she looks like she's been half-submerged in our ruddy sands from home. There's a steel grin of concentration, an almost smirk on her lips, and when she's done the trainer can't help but commend the effort. I would be doing the same, probably, if I could be bothered to, and she gives me a brief smile before beginning to scrub it off. Lightly, and it's taking time, but she's scrubbing with a kind of gentle delicacy that suggests she's not the most used to this cleaning, or not positively disposed to the touching in general.

I get a gentle grimace of comradery, and then she's off. I can't focus much more time on her before I hear a squeak from somewhere in the distance.

The girl from Eight, drenched in water, slips on another slosh over the edge of the water pool that is marked for swimming and gives a yelp. She's clearly had a goal, and now she's off with Eleven's boy. Pistachio. Towards where Robin and his new friend are practicing their fire starting, but save for the faintest wisp of smoke flitting on the air there's nothing that can be seen. It's not exactly positive, but what can I do if not give Robin a weak smile when he eyes me with a little concern. This draws a nod, and now I feel twice as bad. I can't let him see, though, so I turn back to the camouflage.

Finally, having coated both of my arms in their own strains of semi-effective camouflage and then having to have the help of the trainer in removing the paint, I head off. Make a quick stop at knives, still full, and then head off to the traps. I did, after all, tell Theodosia I'd be in there. It may have been a lie, but. Well. It would be wrong to lie entirely, and if I do this then at least she knows something about how my day may have gone.

"One's in there," the trainer warns me, but I pay it little mind. After all, the trap centre looks big enough I won't necessarily have to consider the issue of whether or not whichever one of the Ones is practicing their trapping is. Well, it's fairly minimal.

Inside is an entirely different setting to the eerily sterile coolness of outside, rocks and grasses and the occasional small tree. How the Capitol's set this all up who knows, but there's a lovely set of items, instructions, everything I could need to become something akin to a trap expert. I'm just heading over to it when I feel something against my ankles, and in an instant I'm slipping down a slight incline and there's a blonde mass in my face. And of course, I've just trapped myself because I was warned someone was learning about the traps. And I didn't listen. Idiot, idiot, idiot.

Dazzle's on top of me, and for a second she laughs. "Gotcha!" I'm not quite certain what's got me, when I try to lift myself up, though. Well, I feel something tense against my leg. This interaction, given our cover, isn't exactly able to be seen from the desk, and when she presses one soft finger to my lips I feel almost obliged to stay quiet. Then her lips slip over mine, and that lasts for a second before she pulls back and I splutter a little.

"The hell was that for?!" "Well." She raises up onto her knees, straddling me, and looks down. "I could say I wanted to make Katla jealous, but I think me and her get on well enough that shouldn't be an issue! So, umm. You're pretty, and I don't have all the time in the world left? May as well give you a new experience, hey." She winks, and for a second I can forgive her, before I can only stutter out protest. She's friendly enough, but this just feels... Well, she's a tad too excited for the position of likely murder victim and murderer we're in, and I didn't ask for this. "But, I didn't ask." "Well, sorry about that but asking never gets anything done quickly enough. So what's say we pick up again, or-" I hear footfall through the door, Two's girl calling around before spotting us and sighing.

"Dazzle! Dazzle! Sweet stones, it's a wonder I decided in favour of getting along with you as well as we have gotten along. Dazzle, what did we say? I know you want to have fun." Dazzle pouts, and rolls off with a sigh, even when Two's walking over and near on picking her up. "But I want to-" "No. No fooling around with the outliers because then you'll get attached and try to get her in the Squad and that never ends up well. Does it?"

Dazzle looks at Katla, flushes for a second, and then slips back into her normal bouncy rhetoric. "Of course not! But I just thought-" "Don't even start to think. It doesn't suit your pretty blonde head." Dazzle laughs, hits back with "you're a pretty blonde, so are we just not meant to think?" They're bickering, admittedly lightheartedly, like an old married couple now, until another voice calls for her, and she sighs. "My mentor. Coming, Cash! Sorry, got to bounce! She wants me to meet someone, or something, and we don't have to be here so I should probably..." That's news to me, but she slips out of Katla's grip and flits off before anyone can get a word in edgeways.

"Sorry about her." A short laugh from Katla, once Dazzle is out of earshot. "Between you and me, I'm not sure how much is an act and how much is her normal personality. Ones are tricky. You know that, right?" "Of course." I do know this. I've met enough of the Ones to know this. "They're much the same in real life. Maybe a little less flirty to me, but. Well, I worked with Ones for two years. Not sure I ever will again." Katla smirks, and maybe she's nicer than anticipated. "I also don't think so."

She stands at this, glancing at her allies and then back at me. "I should..." "You should." That felt a little too brusque, and I get a frown from her. This is followed by a laughing wink that I think is supposed to indicate some kind of friendship, or rather some respect on her end towards me, and makes me feel more deeply confused.

"I'll make it quick, Five." I get a nod, and then she's off, and I'm still thoroughly confused. Why she'd bothered to talk to me is near to a mystery, one made more cryptic when I can see her laughing with her allies as if nothing is wrong. I hope not about me, but. Well. Not much I can do if there is something about me that's caused the laughter. Who knows?

Piper's rushing over when I step out, a little shocked. "Their lot? Two's lot? They want you?" I shake my head, and in an instant she looks that much more apprehensive. "Why did they want you?" "One thinks I look pretty." A moment of hesitation, Lysa running over at far too slow a run, and eventually skidding to a halt. "Sorry, I. Um, I had to finish the thing. What's up?" Piper's near bent double, and laughing. "One thinks Millie's pretty." Lysa and I both look at each other, confused, until Piper claps and keeps laughing. "If-If One thinks so." A hesitation, enough for more laughter to pour out. "Then we've struck gold. Millie, congratulations. If One likes you, then clearly you're doing something right. Mind telling us your secret?"

I shake my head, still blushing a bit. "No big secret, really. I'm just... I guess I'm good at that kind of stuff? I think? She thinks I am, at least. Now, what have you been doing? I could have seen you, but I didn't."

That's a laugh from Lysa, and she waves her hand. "We were back at the obstacle course." A feeling of injury slips on for a second before they wave their hands. "We couldn't find you!" That's Piper "And besides, what would have been the point? You looked ok when I did see you, so we thought you'd deserve some alone time. I don't think we'll have time to do something else before lunch, but..." I nod, and there's a flash of a thought in my head. "Go early?" It's not exactly important, but it's a possibility, and Lysa's nodding along. "I-I'd like that."

The lunch is the same as yesterday. Laid out in trays, every food one could want. It almost reminds me of school back home, except school's food offered nothing near this. Albeit, I'm not sure whether or not this is genuinely intended for enjoyment, as opposed to fattening us up for the Games. After all, children dying from starvation never makes for good Games. I heard the complaint enough at work last year. It wasn't an enjoyable Games, for the patrons at least.

So my plate is full, higher than yesterday. Not just with home food, but with some things that I can't even name Piper and Lysa point out to me. A bowl full of something fluffy and sweet that nobody can quite name from Eleven, along with beef and beans in a sauce from Ten. Half a dozen other things I can't name.. That isn't too dissimilar to what we have back home, and I teach them how to work with Five's flatbread in return as if it's that hard. Albeit, from the amount of sauce that coats hands in attempts to scoop up food, it seems to be so.

It's fun, teaching people how each food goes, how it's eaten. A lot more fun than the violence that has filled my life, the learning how to kill and how to keep myself from death. It's horrific, it's the kind of fear and dread that makes the little fun we can get that much more rewarding. Like watching Lysa scrabble at the plate and try, failing, to scoop up the meat from my home. Learning that Ten's food tastes a lot better on Five bread than one could expect.

It's fun, really. The silence at first, as we all explore the food. Learn how to work with the food from each other, the fried fish from Eleven and Five cooked potato going pretty well with each other. The grain from Eleven and shells from Ten less so, but we all find a laugh about it.

Then, when the bulk of the food has been eaten and is still being eaten? We're having a good time, still but now it shifts to discussion

Piper wishes she was an only child. She's not well off, not by any stretch, but her parents were willing to try for another child when Eleven is as it is. They needed the extra hands on the farm, even if (and I'm sure this is an exaggeration) it's sunny year round, and the crops all but pull themself out of the ground. I'm not sure how much of this I believe. Surely, farming can't be as easy as she makes it sound with that lighthearted tone. The tradeoff, according to Piper, is in the neglect. In the fact her parents are out fourteen hours a day, the rest is spent making sure her siblings are well and not killing themselves or each other. She's not complaining, just. Resigned.

Lysa's got no extra siblings. Her parents aren't rich, and from the way she pronounces that word that's the be all and end all of Ten. They aren't poor, either, rather the kind of middlemen that sit between the workers and the big bosses. It sounds like a relatively charmed life, she's never had to work. Did some help to her parents, filing papers and such, but that was the full extent of it. She listens to Piper's descriptions with a wistful look, speaks about how she'd be willing to trade for siblings. Doesn't catch the grimace from Piper, continues on about how much she misses home. How she just knows her Momma and Da are waiting back home for her.

Then it's my turn, and I'm not even sure where to start. "Well, I live in Vipeche, that's the, ahm. Largest city in Five. We have a lot of stuff, and the Capitol, a lot of their people come down. I live with my Ma and my little brother, Corin. I work the night shift at the Grande, that's a casino. You know, go out on the floor, carry trays, take orders, generally make sure the patrons are looked after." Lysa makes a face, taking an idea from that she shouldn't, and I can't help but laugh. "No, not like that! There's enough One girls who'd jump at the opportunity for that kind of money, and so they don't need me."

Nodding from the table emboldens me slightly, I continue on. "Anyways. I never knew my father, Ma just said he was drifting through and never really wanted anything to do with a longer term commitment. Like a daughter." A chorus of sighs, a muttered 'sorry', and even if it briefly tugs at my heart those feelings are really easy to ignore. Not like it's a new feeling, after all, and it's easier to bury it.

We're done with the food after a round of mutters of what to do next, just in time for the Squad to come in and seize a table. Some are on that, even as the rest to go up are grabbing two plates and carrying them back to the table. Dazzle doesn't come over this time, at least, even if a wink is thrown my way from their table and I grin and bear it. Four points at me with a smirk, the kind of smirk that promises nothing of good use and a lot of bad use. I hear a stifled terror from my left, don't turn to see the obvious candidate, and the moment ends.

We're done by this point, it's the work of a moment to dispose of the trays and plates upon the trays, and then to leave. To head outside, look around at the other children only now leaving, a tide of fifteen who pass us with barely a second thought.

The afternoon by contrast is sedate as any I've been in. We take advantage of the popular stations, get an hour or so of knife fighting handled and that practice serves more than the afternoon spent learning how to swim, because what are the odds I'll ever need to swim in the Arena? If it's that important, they'll give us floaties and let us sink if anyone's fool enough to pop them.

Still, I spent enough time in I'm still dripping wet when heading up, taking a disapproving glance from Theodosia and a tutted "Millie." Nothing more is said on the matter, likely because I'm intercepted by my mentor as soon as I step out of the elevator.

"Go shower!" Elise is in a far nicer dress than any I've seen before, a Capitolite behind helping with her hair and thus preventing her from looking at me any more closely than a side-eye. "I'm off out, you'll have a nice dinner. Maybe I'll see you before bed, if not get a good night's sleep. The showing is damned important if you want to make a good impression. Her tone brooks no argument, and the shower is a nice fifteen minutes relaxation.

I get out of the shower, change into a nice shirt and skirt, and come out of the door to be greeted with a gruff voice. "Get dressed." Indra is brusque, I have to ask 'why', and get greeted with a laugh from Soleil. A joyous laugh, the kind of laugh that an excited bird would give when it's been released from a cage. It makes me feel elated for a second, and then I see the dress hanging. Sunset-orange, happy looking and pretty. "We're going out." Sol nods, and I'm confused. "I thought we weren't allowed to-" "Everyone's allowed to. Nobody gives a shit if you do, as long as the Peacekeepers. Trust me, even with two Victors no way we're getting past them. You need a night out, I think one of your friends is coming but who the hell knows. Learn a bit more about how this works."

I have a question, but this is headed off by Soleil. "Elise is busy. Handling business with Chrissie and Seeder, and then she's off to see a sponsor. You're a tribute, now, you're going to be needing a lot of attention until you die or unless you win. In which case, even more attention. Congratulations Millie, people are going to be busying you about for the rest of your life!" "And you're chaperoning me?" "It's our duty." That's Indra, the man shrugging. "You need an escort at the best of times. Theodosia wanted to come, but she's been held up by the mess that is Robin's alliance, and so it's us." I'm offered a brief smile, and then it's time. We're guided outside, into a car with a Peacekeeper in the front alongside the driver. A click of the doors, and we're off.

It takes some minutes, maybe ten or fifteen, before we arrive. No speech, save for the occasional compliment from Soleil on how nice my dress looks. It does look nice, but. Well. Is that really what we should be focussing on now of all times? Getting out of the car takes a second, but after that we're all but driven inside by Peacekeepers, to a fancy table with the white armoured men taking seats. Some talking with waiters, somehow allowed to place orders, some not. The booth has one standing outside, another sitting at the table opposite. It seems half the clientele is Peacekeepers, until I'm nudged and told this is them trying to show us that they're not taking any messing around.

The waiter comes over before there's any chance for talking, a blonde girl, smiling and mutely handing around menus as if they're some kind of gift. The list is extensive, words I've never even seen before and others I can't even hope to understand because what in Seven could a confit be? Or a fricassee, or any of these other words that fly off the page like birds? I'm running down the list, and it must take some time because that same blonde girl is already back at the table, smiling and with a notepad in hand. "What kind of things are we thinking, Miss? Miss? Sir? Any starters caught your eye?"

There's a grunt of assent from Indra, and I flick back to the starters, eventually shaking my head when caught in an expectant blue eye. Indra asks for the Arancini, and water. Soleil's just placed her request for some wine with a fancy name when a boy, maybe seventeen or eighteen, comes over. The Peacekeeper's not making a move to intervene, and he speaks like an overly excited child. Which, I suppose, in the end he is. "Are you Millie Stahl?" His tone is brashly excited, it takes all my willpower to offer a smile and a simple "Yes. Yes I am."

He bounces in place, the waitress is standing behind him looking increasingly anxious I'd expect at the thought of not being able to get us all sorted, and he's still speaking. "I'd love to get your autograph. And you, sir. Ma'am." There's an anxious smile on his face, and he holds out the pen and paper with the kind of invitation for us to sign that means I have to take the pen and write my name, pass it to Indra and then him to Soleil, all of us writing and getting a beaming smile in return.

"Thank you! I hope you have a good pre-Games, Millie!" First name basis does not seem like something that could happen after a simple autograph request, but the wave as he bounces off towards two people who must be his parents, both of them giving proud nods? Well, maybe that could be a good thing, really, in the long run. Good publicity is good publicity, after all, and who knows what one boy could bring.

Then, once the waitress heads out, it's time for a proper discussion, Indra leaning forward. "So. You done what you needed to do over the last couple of days?" His tone leaves little room for a no, even less for a complaint or warning I needed more time. Still, I shake my head. "There's so much more to do, and they're still too good. The, umm. The dangerous ones. The Squad." A round of nods, and they're both looking at me with understanding. "We've been there. We get it, trust me." Soleil, Indra coming in afterwards with a simple nod. "Go on then, Millie. What're you thinking of doing?" They both laugh, Soleil leaning slightly in. "Have you picked up anything?"

I grip the table, and smile. Ignore the worry, that Ma and Corin will see me fail, flunk a score on live tv, and speak. "Well. I was thinking I'd start with knives, and then-" "No, no, no." Indra again, waving his hands. "You have a duty to yourself, Millie. Do the best you can. What are you best at?" I'm not best at anything. Of course I'm not, not with that lot running around.

"I... I know some things with a knife?" "And half a dozen starving kids do the same every year. Those fours, fives, threes? They're there because some kid got overconfident with a weapon and decided it was their turn to be the next Gloss or Cashmere. You need to put in a showing that shows you can live. Fighting's good, but you can do other things."

Orders are placed without due fuss, me asking for fried fish. It sounds relatively near to what we eat in Five, with fried potato on the side and some vegetables. I've eaten potato and vegetables. Fish a couple of times, as a treat.

Neither of my allies show up. I was told they would, clearly not truthfully, but there is at least a bright spot in this advice. "And when I'm in the Arena?"

They both take a second. Indra's first, as per usual. "One said you'd get a free pass?" I nod. "Saying it means fuck all. You can hear those, you're not exactly in a situation parents dream about anyways. So, why?" "Why?" He sighs, claps his hands. "Stahl, she's being nice to you. Why?" "I, I don't know. She did kiss me." A laugh, and Soleil's taking over. "Mine did that to me. Ambush. Works like a charm. They don't like you. Never do, the Ones in the arena. She'll be doing it to get under Two's skin." Sounding realistic, she continues. "She thinks you can put on a good show. So, well."

Indra glances, nods, lets her continue. "Skirt around the edge. Take what you can, stay out of her and the way of her allies. Don't look too tempting to resist. Who're you with?" "Lysa from Ten, Piper from Eleven." "Sounds good." Soleil's scribbling on a napkin, something. "Three of you. Twelve point five percent of this mess is you and your allies." That's quick maths, almost scarily quick, but she ignores the statement and moves on. "You'll see nine, ten dead in bloodbath. Maybe a little less, maybe a little more. Ignore the six Squad, no way they're going down, and that leaves us with eighteen. Eighteen, I'd say it drops to nine. How're you keeping that from being you? How are you meeting up?"

I don't have an answer to this, Indra's got a tone and a half in his voice. "You need this. My suggestion, meet up at the mouth. They stay out, you go in. Don't grab anything too valuable or One might break off promises and go for the kill. Then fucking run."

"What if it's somewhere I can't run?" My tone is plaintive, questioning, and he shrugs, clapping to keep Soleil from making a statement. "Then you're a bit fucked. They, the Squad, are 'specially good at hunting and killing. You need to get away from them and wait for them to slow down. Otherwise, you're going to be caught and killed. Hope it's quick, if that does happen." That's matter of fact, and I ignore that that is the reality for a second, before being jerked back into it. "Hope it's quick. But, if I can-" "You can't fight. Maybe you can bash a head in with a rock while they're asleep, but realistically? In no world is that ever happening that you beat them in a fair fight."

"But then how can I-" I'm cut off again by Soleil, and now it feels like they're purposely stopping me from speaking. "Cheat." "How can I cheat? Are there rules?" "There's no actual cheating. Use your advantages. Stab them while they're asleep, if you have to, but make sure you win."

Dinner arrives, plates piled high with all kinds of food. A slab of meat and some mashed potato for Soleil, who gets to cutting it with incredible speed. The knife in her hand pushes down, and she's cutting like there's no tomorrow. A salad for Indra, looking all too confusing until it's chased by stacked chicken, breaded and steaming.

My fish arrives, on a plate, and I'm just leaning over to it when a relatively familiar voice rolls over. "Millie!"

Author's note

Is Tributes being allowed to leave explicitly canon? No. Am I going to write it anyways, because it's fun and because Twelve is the poorest and least popular District and is less likely to be aware of or benefit from it, where somewhere like (my) Five or One may be able to do more? Yes.