Forum Thread

Aleksandr Volkov

The stroll through the deserted city was long and winding and desolate. Most people were fast asleep, dreaming of their weapons and guns and such.

He sighed softly, shoulders slumping.

The man continued walking through, the only sounds being his footsteps and the half-asleep greetings of the shopkeepers and workers getting ready for the day.

The day.
The reaping.

Aleksandr made it to the town square, quietly taking a seat on a nearby bench.

Sixteen. That was how many minutes it took for him to walk all this way.

so that meant two hours and fourty-four minutes to wait.

Fourty-four was also the number of individual parts were slapped together to form this bench- perfectly carved stones and bent metal and whatnot.

He sighed.

"....163."

--
Seraphina Weiss

Humming quietly, Seraphina briskly walked through town, the bustling atmosphere never failing to lift her move. As she walked on through, there were greetings shouted out to her, and she responded to each one in kind, with a bright smile and a cheery wave.

She reached down, adjusting her axe slightly- it had been hooked to her belt- and continued along her way.

She hummed as she skipped along her way, a bounce in her step per usual.

Reaping day.

Reaping day.

How utterly exciting!

She giggled maniacally to herself, clapping her hands together.

A break from the monotony! She couldn't be any more elated.

Her favorite day of the year, watching the chosen be dragged off, screaming and kicking...

She sighed melodramatically, the confused gazes on her disappearing when they realized who it was.

"It's just the Weiss girl."

---

Uneasy

Uneasiness. It was always ever present in his mind, almost like a beast watching very carefully. Currently, it was screaming in his head. Waves of nausea and fear blew through his head like a typhoon wreaking havoc on pitiful huts. His muscles were tense as he saw Robin volunteer. He prayed for someone else to volunteer in his place, only for his pleading to be left unanswered. That was it. He was a tribute. Casimir Devereaux was going to die.

Dizziness.

He felt dizzy. Thoughts sped through his mind in a cycle of worry and grief. What was he even grieving? He didn’t know. His eyes stung but he kept his chin high. He saw the cameras pointing at him, waiting for his reaction in a corrupted glee. He glared at the cameras, a single tear slowly traveling from the corner of his eye to his chin. He grinned at the cameras and then walked calmly to a Peacemaker, waiting for instructions.

Behind the confidence, he was breaking down. He had goals. He wanted to see his sister wake up. He wanted to just run away, hide forever, at least until the games were over. Why him? He wasn’t even in the academy.

His heart was pounding dangerously fast. He almost worried it would burst out of his chest and lay on the ground, beating away at its short, pitiful existence.

Instead of collapsing right there, he was led away into the Justice Building and locked in a room surrounded by Peacekeepers. He sat on an extravagantly ornate chair lightly. He could recognize some of the gems, keeping himself calm by reciting the process of shaping under his breath.

His heart slowed down, returning to a normal pace. He trotted over to the door, staring out of the window, waiting to see if Robin would come by the hallway. She would know what to do. She was slightly bonkers, in his opinion, but she was actually trained for the games.

---

Sobble touches what looks like to be a little bird. It hops onto his shoulder and starts pecking his head. "Please I recommend you to stop." The bird, flies away and returns to what seems to be a nest. Sobble's curiosity is at its peak. "I guess that's where it lives. I really hope it doesn't it doesn't get caught up in the events of the reaping." Sobble darts around the area, scouting if anyone is nearby. His speed is slow but he continues running around the area.

"It doesn't seem that much people are here in the area. I sure hope I don't get lost or anything drastic like that." Sobble stomach growls, as if he hasn't eaten anything in a few days. "Man, I am sooo hungry right now. I would kill for some apple pie right now."

---

---

Majoree Sinclair

---
"The greatest achievement was at first and for a time a dream. The oak sleeps in the acorn, the bird waits in the egg, and in the highest vision of the soul a waking angel stirs. Dreams are the seedlings of realities." -James Allen

---

"So that's it? You're finally done with us?"

Majoree jumped, her hand unconsciously tightening on the wire. All around her, the world was coming to life. Singing birds, the fluttering of insects... and her own heart, rapidly thumping in her chest

"Calm down, Chia," she muttered. "I haven't done anything yet."

"Was it something I said?" her sister inquired, stepping into Majoree's line of sight. Her hair, immacuately braided as always, rested against her red Reaping dress. Majoree tore her eyes away, anger, thick and choking rising up in her throat.

"No, nothing you said." On an afterthought, she added. "Don't be dumb, Chia. This isn't about you."

"What is it about, then?"

Majoree squeezed her eyes shut against the onslaught of images. A beautiful pink mouth moving, asking a question. It blurred and spun and became a forest scene, candied cherry blossom trees soaring into the sky and there was a boy now, smiling at her, his shirt splattered with something she'd rather not think about. His hand was held out, and as she stared into it, something began to form in that clammy palm, and suddenly the boy was gone... and she was kneeled over the ground, cradling a little white bundle of cloth. Her heart froze in her chest. Hands shaking she unraveled it, to reveal a bird, a little dove, its eyes closed, wire wrapped around the scarlet line in its throat. A perfect little bow.

The memories faded away, and her breathing steadied.

You're fine, she told herself. Just answer the question honestly.

Please.

"A dream," she said, finally turning to fully face Chia.

She was holding Majoree's coat and wearing runners without socks. In the distance, Majoree spied her fancy Mary Janes, bright red and abandoned on the forest floor. Chia was shaking all over and there were patches of sweat on her arms and face, but even her obvious exhaustion couldn't hide the anger that curled her shoulders forward.

She could see Chia's hands, shaking and clenched into fists.

"So that's it. You're abandoning us over one of your dreams."

Majoree flinched. Chia had always been the one to defend her whenever their mom started on Majoree and her "gift". She knew Chia didn't really believe her- for goodness sake's, who could?- but she seemed... angry. Really angry. More than last time. This was supposed to hurt.

And it did.

"I'm not abandoning you." She couldn't quite meet Chia in the eyes.

Chia snorted. "Of course you aren't." She pushed past her, Majoree stumbling out of her way, and came to a stop at the fence, staring up at it. "I just remembered," she said conversationally. "It's electrified at the top. I bet you didn't know that, did you? You wouldn't have known unless I told you."

Why was Chia looking for a fight? Majoree's brow furrowed as she stared at her sister- sneakers, new braids, red Reaping dress. She couldn't make out her expression from behind, but her stiffened shoulders told the story.

"It's only active in the evenings," Majoree murmured.

"Ah, you'd know. Been here a lot?" Chia apparently couldn't keep the loathing out of her voice for very long.

"Look, Chia, I don't think you understand why-"

"Oh, I understand just fine, Majoree." Chia spun to face her. There were tears on her face thst momentarily took Majoree's breath away. "I've spent years of my life defending you. When they say you're crazy, I'm the first one to say you're not. What have you done for me? Every week you run away and you expect us to..."

"Chia!" Majoree exclaimed as her sister's knees hit the forest floor. She ran up to her and tried to hug her, but Chia shoved her away.

"It's the Reaping," Chia whispered. "If you don't show... they'll know you're not here. They'll find you." She lifted her head, eyes red-rimmed, but fierce all the same. "Pick another day. Not today."

Oh, Chia. Majoree's heart broke. You really don't get it, do you? You always were the pragmatic one.

Gently, she tucked one of Chia's braids behind her ear, relieved her sister let her. It doesn't make sense to you... why today would be the day to run. It's never been about any of that for you.

"I can't do another Reaping, Chia," Majoree whispered, dropping down beside Chia and taking her hand. "Last night... I think that's what it was telling me."

"What the dream told you?" Chia asked bitterly.

Ignoring her, Majoree went on, "I saw a Reaping age boy and a dead bird. You know what birds mean to me, Chia. And I know that whoever that boy is... he's going to be drawn. And if he does get drawn, then I'll lose..." She hesitated, not sure what to say. "Birds."

"So you just don't want to see that boy?" Chia questioned.

"I... I guess so." That's close enough, I guess.

"Is he from our District?"

"That's not really relevant, Chia-" she began.

"No, listen to me." Chia turned to face her, eyes lighting up. "You don't have to watch the Reaping, Majoree." Chia spun her around and clasped her hands in hers. "That sounds okay, right? I'll just keep you away from the tv. You'll never even see if the boy gets drawn."

Majoree wasn't sure what to say to that. She just kept quiet as Chia rambled on.

"One more year. Just stay here for me, okay? It's not that long. We can figure out how to deal with your dreams. Sleeping pills or something."

"It's not that simple, Chia," Majoree whispered. But her voice waivered. And from the glint in Chia's eyes, she knew she'd won. "Just... don't let the bird die, okay?"

Now I sound crazy. Dream boys and dead birds.

But Chia, as always, took it in stride.

"No birds dying under my watch," Chia promised. She giggled a bit, clearly thinking the argument was over. Hopping to her feet, she strode over to Majoree and helped her up. "C'mon, we gotta get bad before mom throws a conniption fit."

"Yeah, sure."

Chia blinked, clearly surprised, but a grin spread over her face. "Geez, Majoree, you don't have to pretend to love her that much."

"Haha," Majoree said unenthusiastically.

Her sister threw back her head and laughed. After they left, Majoree trailed sullenly behind her. For just a moment, she glanced behind herself at the fence- the twisted metal fingers climbing up and up and up into the sky, gently brushing against the edges of a tree.

In her dreams, her hands had been made of the very same wire.

Her nails dug into her palms, biting deep. She focused on those little flickers of pain and tried to pretend like this was just another weekly attempt to leave the District.

No doubt Chia had thought it was, and for a moment so had Majoree.

But as she walked along, she spotted a little dove, high up in the tree. She smiled at it, gave a little wave. Its song floated through the air, dancing in tune with the wind and the leaves. The bird craned its head to the sky and sang its little heart out, wings fluttering, feet poised as though it were about to take flight.

A flicker of movement in the brush

No, she thought.

The cat's eyes glowed green.

Chia's hand tightened around hers.

The bird's dying shrieks followed them as they left the woods and emerged onto the path. They needed to follow it North, to get to the Town Square. Where the Reaping would soon begin. The shrieking behind them cut off abruptly, and Chia's grip loosened.

She smiled at Majoree and melodious birdsong filled the air once more.

Majoree smiled back, and felt fate's noose tighten around her throat. Today... she would see the Reaping boy.

---

Pre Reaping

It was a gloomy day. Not that it matters. Every day, either rain, sun, fog, or storm, felt the same to her.

Today was the Reaping, an event where a male and female are pulled from their districts, their homes, their family, to compete in a deadly game.

Gray eyes blinked open as Rose rised from her sleep. Sunlight came pouring in her vision, making it all blurry. Wincing slightly by the sudden light, she slowly made her way up. Quitely slipping into her usual attire, and doing a couple stretches. Rose made her way through the house, carefully to not wake her sleeping “parents”, knowing the consequences if she did.

Her mind plummeted into thoughts about her parents. They always called her an odd-one-out and treated her like one. Black against white? Now that would really be a scene. Rose sighed, pushing her thoughts away. She can’t be so distracted on a day as busy as the Reaping.

She rummaged through the cabinets, looking for eggs and bread. Upon finding some, she laid the bread aside while frying the egg, accidentally burning herself in the process. Scars, burns, bruises, that was how her life would always be and forever be.

“Sakura, wake up,” Rose whispered to her half-asleep sister. Sakura was the only person who actually cared for her. She was also the only person who Rose can trust.

“Mm… What?” a sound came from the other side of the room.

“It’s morning and breakfast is ready. Come on, get up.”

“Fine…” Sakura mumbled.

---

30 times, her name was entered. 7 times for her age, and 23 times for tesserae, more like torture from her parents.

“There’s still a bit of time before the reaping. Why not we go practice for a bit?” Rose said, handing Sakura a couple of knives. She had made a makeshift practice area, hidden away from the district.

Just before leaving, Rose snatched a few more knives and her parents’ book about survival. They had almost made their way through the door before angry stomping filled the room. She quickly hid the knives, before her parents can see.

“Rose? Sakura? What do you think you’re doing at this moment?”

Sakura jumped back, in surprise. “We… we’re.. um….” she tried, apparently to startled to say anything.

“We thought it would be good idea to go to the Reaping a bit earlier.” Rose lied, taking over for her sister.

“Alright, fine, you good-for-nothing girls can go.”

Black hair flowed against white as they walked through the district. Waving at tired neighbors and sharing news on the way.

An enormous tree stood before the girls.

“This is it?” asked Sakura, confused, staring at the tree.

“Yes, the entrance is on the other side.” Rose explained to her puzzled sister.

A hidden door swung open, the tree had recognized Rose’s appearance. Careful, don’t use your powers in front of someone. She was thankful that Sakura hadn't taken notice. Better, be more careful next time.

Inside, a training arena was set up. Wooden targets, and practice dummies were set up around the area.

Rose tossed the book towards Sakura. “Here, read this, you will need it. I will go train meanwhile.”

Hardwork would soon be paid off, Rose would eventually realize that she would be grateful for all of this.

"Man, it just sucks that people are ripped away from their homes to do this. It's probably not a very civil way but then again that's how I try to find food in some games. I kill animals, either that or I have to defeat enemies or loot homes to find materials and resources. I mean that isn't too civil seeing how looting houses is pretty illegal in the real world. I wonder how the other members are doing so far, like nothing too bad could happen since the they can probably work on their own..."

Sobble finds a rock and puts up a barrier in front of him. He throws the rock towards the barrier and it bounces back. He stretches his arm towards a tree and grabs a conveniently placed apple. "Maybe I could do something with this." Sobble uncovers a small shard of wood near the tree under some dirt. "Yeah, this will do." Sobble inserts small chunks of the shard into the apple. "Alright, whoever finds this won't really eat the apple and feel satisfied. In fact, they won't feel satisfied at all eating wood lumps."

xxxBreathing in the salt that clung to his skin, Viorel moved past the throngs of people moving towards the city in droves, sliding through the slight gaps between each person like flowing water gliding past obstinate rocks. The constant flux of motion that crowded the main streets, grinding the clogged pathways to a halt almost child's play to navigate for someone who was used to pushing through hoards of other students. After all, if one couldn't survive the initial bloodbath, then where was the fun? The thrill of the hunt?

xxxIt was laughably easy to slip past everyone to the front where the slight pinprick of blood drawn for the informal early census was demanded. Such insignificant pain didn't register in his mind, only another box to check off as he rippled past stagnant bodies leaving behind nothing but a transient whisp of memory that faded into obscurity. There was never anything interesting to do before the reaping, especially when he knew everything that was going to happen. Those who were drawn from the lot would never step foot in the capital and those who had trained their whole lives for such a time would take the crowning glory instead.

xxxWhat a joke

xxxAh, Viorel reflected almost melancholic as he took his pace at the back with the other boys his age. They parted around him like water before an unerodible mountain and he tried not to miss the perfectly carved space beside him that stayed unoccupied. I was too hasty. I should have waited longer before driving that knife in.

xxxIt would have been a shame if Shiki died, but if such a paltry attack could knock the other down until the sea drew him back into Her fold, then he could have never been good enough to participate in the games. And Viorel had been considerate enough to chose a spot that wouldn't pierce any vital organs too. It would be plain embarrassing if Shiki failed to show. Besides, if he was going to laugh at Viorel for getting on stage, then he'd very happily flip his classmate off from atop his lofty perch.

xxxLetting out a breath, he let the nerves slide off his back and loosened his neck. Today, would be the day he would seal his face, with a raised hand and two simple words.


xxxMindlessly ambling through the crowded streets, the only cognizant thoughts to never let go of the callused hand that clasped tightly against dirty fabric covered in tears bouncing lazily around, Ibaraki let dull eyes stay transfixed on the thinning soles of withered work boots. They never had much, only the bare basics to scrape by as they danced the razor thin line between destitution and homelessness. Their best clothing was the ones that they wore on their back, shoes a luxury that Ibaraki hadn't yet had the means of experiencing

xxxDad slowed to a stop, gradual and measured enough that Ibaraki didn't stumble, and turned to kneel down to eye level. "Listen, kid. You're old and smart enough to know how this whole sh- thing works." He coughed, covering up swallowed words with a grimace. "You have a one in a trillion chance of getting picked anyways so do as we practised. Keep your head down, and the oddities out. No one wants to see muscle instead of skin."

xxxThe familiar scolding washed over twitching ears without really registering, shallow nods of the head all that were given. Ibaraki didn't get why they had to go over it again, it wasn't like the rules they had first established when Ibaraki started working out in the fields with the other kids had changed at all and none of them had been broken. Today must be special then, Ibaraki surmised. Special enough to be chosen for something.

xxx "Good kid." Dad smiled, rare and as heartwarming as Ibaraki could remember, a heavy hand coming up to ruffle snowy hair. "Your Ma would be proud." That got the child's attention, sharp ears perking up and Ibaraki gazed at Dad with wonder swimming in molten gold. So rarely had that titled been spoken of, the faint memories of a pale haired woman who would cradle Ibaraki against her chest on particularly cold nights already fading away with the sands of time. She hadn't stayed around, leaving much too soon for Ibaraki to remember much of anything, but Ma always made Ibaraki feel nice and warm. Dad must have felt the same as melancholy seeped into his face at those words, their moment of silence blanketed with grief before Dad took Ibaraki's covered hand again.

xxxThey didn't need to exchange any words as they reached the front of the line and a sliver of pain granted them entry. Packed as it was, Ibaraki still found solace in the steady presence of Dad before even that was taken away and unfamiliar hands led the child towards the front of the crowd. There, various other children were gathered in oderly lines, some that Ibaraki recognized from various crop fields and contracts.

xxxWas everyone here than?

xxxThe thought spurred something bright in Ibaraki's chest, perhaps spurred on by the earlier reminder of something lost. A flicker of something dangerously close to hope settling in the child's chest as Ibaraki looked around to perhaps catch a glimpse of a woman who sparkled like the alcohol that Dad so loved to indulge in but only the cold white of Peace kept reflecting back

---

---

---

Liro Alexandrite

---

---

“Good luck”

Her last comment played on loop inside his head. Liro was sick to the stomach with fear, his feet frozen to the ground, unwilling to move. In a matter of minutes, the two tributes would be revealed and be shipped off to the Capitol. It was a moment which he dreaded, feeling the guilt and pain of the chosen tribute, as if he were responsible. He felt occasional nudges against his shoulder as other boys shifted uneasily in their positions, faces hard and grim. All roped into age categories and lined up like cattle, each with a small prick of a needle on their finger from each blood sample.

Liro could spot Mollie’s brown head through the crowd, exchanging anxious glances with other girls in her section, jaw clenched. He couldn’t blame her. No one said a word. No one tried to whisper. No one dared to defy the peacekeepers that surrounded them. They were certainly building up a lot of suspense this year.

Finally the slow clicking of heels made their way into the platform, followed by a false smile and eyes disgusted by the sight of the district; the hollow, scowling faces that stood before her; the black soot caked in their nails and lack of attention to their attire. “Welcome to the annual Hunger Games, and may the odds be ever in your favour.” She continued to flash her smiles despite her blank-faced audience, cheekbones unnaturally sharp and skin tinted a shade of orange. Liro caught Mollie’s glance and they both nodded: plastic surgery.

“And now the tributes!” The woman exclaimed, her high pitched Capitol voice squealing in excitement. Heels clicked over to the two glass bowls littered with names hastily scrawled on each scrap of parchment, no doubt made from the timber in District 7. The next few minutes were blurred into seconds as he snapped from a dreamy faze, finally noticing Mollie’s pale expression and a few known heads swivelling in his direction. Their eyes were filled with pity and relief; all he felt was dread.

He was… but.. but he..

“Liro Alexandrite.” The woman repeated calmly. He was the male tribute.

---

---

Celaine Airus

---

---

Celaine gripped Rya’s pale hand as they snaked around the grouped clusters, occasionally ducking her head every time a peacekeeper drew near. Best to keep out of sight, though she cursed her bright red hair that did the opposite. She was glad her cousin wasn’t legible for the Games.

“Rya? Celaine?” A weary voice called, words outlined with the husky sound of consumed alcohol. She sighed and loosened her hold on Rya, raising her head to the man. He looked better than she last saw him; his greying stubble less rugged and dull eyes brighter. Though it seemed that he still couldn’t shake his drinking habits. “Dean.” She replied, coldly acknowledging his presence. Rya nodded at her father, breaking the tension with a small smile and slipping her palm into his for a moment.

“The reaping is about to start.” noticing how Dean’s pupils reduced to pinpoints as the memory of his son flooded back. “I know.. you don’t forgive me.. or trust me but.. good luck.” Celaine narrowed her eyes and opened her mouth to snap back, though abruptly closed it after catching Rya’s pained expression. “I appreciate it but it won’t help. There’s statistics involved, not just luck.” With those last words, she slipped away from the girl she loved and man she resented.

Elbows jabbed into her side and in annoyance as Celaine pushed her way into the crowd, slotting into place, shoulder to shoulder. Rows and rows of children; innocent children. No one deserves this. But she swallowed her bitterness and let the reaping begin.

The female tribute was chosen; small and fragile like Rya, probably just twelve, with the same pale hair and fair skin. So much like her.. it almost seemed that the girl was..

“I volunteer.” The words escaped her mouth before she could stop them. Her breath hitched in her throat as she realised what had been done. The chosen girl collapsed to the floor in a heap of sobbing and sniffling, moaning cries escaping her chest.

Celaine only looked towards Dean and Rya, standing behind the endless rows. Dean had dropped his flask of whiskey, shock crossing over his face. But Rya’s was what scared her. Fear, confusion, helplessness. Betrayal.

---

Serqphina swung her legs as she watched the people slowly fill into the town square, ambling about like zombies.

She almost laughed to herself.

But she didn't. Didn't need to seem any more crazy, did she?

She hummed a lively tune, palms pressed against the cold wood of the bench beneath her.

The stage was set- literally. By 9 in the morning, every person in the district had come, and some ambassador from the capitol was on stage now.

Ah, capitol people, how they fascinated Sera, what with their cosmetic surgeries, over the top accessories, clear lust for blood...

Just her kind of people!

She giggled to herself, a haunting sound in and of itself.

She watched as the peacekeepers flanked the capitol representative, handing the man- or woman? Sera could never tell- their notes.

"Welcome, welcome, District 7-ers!"

Gosh, what an annoying voice, like nails to a chalkboard.

That was the one thing Seraphina disliked about the capitol-ers. Their voices. If she could, she would take her axe to their throats and carve their vocal cords out. Wouldn't be too different from those surgeries, she supposed.

What a-

Ah, she had missed the speech describing a man's grisly death! Whatever.

"... And now, we will draw the names!"

Sera hoped it was her, ohohoho! Gosh, she was excited!

"District 7 Female... Seraphina Weiss!"

And a slow smile broke through.

"... How fun."

She murmured, through her grin.

---

Soon enough, the tributes had been chosen, and it was time to board the train. The Peacekeepers shoved everyone along, attaching little metal collars to their neck, presumably to prevent them from using their abilities. One bye one, everyone was unceremoniously tossed into the train, which then took off immediately, leaving no time for goodbyes or teary farewells.

“Alright, ya scumbags. Enjoy yourselves while you’re breathin” The Peacekeeper claps his hands together with glee, before disappearing into the Peacekeeper cabin. He gestured to the nearby train carriage full of food, the ‘resting’ carriage for tributes to chat, and lastly, their…bedrooms? This train journey would be far longer than expected.

Hey, at least there was a buffet. A long, long table filled with food. And comfy armchairs. :) Nothing dangerous could possibly happen, right? The Peacekeepers being nice, actually giving them food to eat instead of crumbs and scraps.

"Man, never thought today would be the day. Out of all the things I could be doing: folding laundry, playing video games, listening to music or just zoning out. I never thought I would actually be in the Hunger Games. Let's hope I don't get ganged up on by 2 people at once seeing that my abilities are probably focused on 1v1s instead of getting jumped by two people at once."

Sobble looks around the town square. There lies the bakery, the library, the fountain in the centre of the town square and innocent bystanders. Sobble knew this all too well. "Never trust anyone? I could do that, I'll try. Most of them are probably out for my head, that's the thing though. Some probably want to form a temporary alliance with me, then backstab me when it's just the two of us.

xxxThe reaping was almost boring, the predictability of it all dragging anything that could have been interesting into the mud of monotony. The same beats that happened every other year happened again, the national anthem, the gore-fest that followed it as if the citizens wouldn't remember each game, the click of ridiculously expensive heels as names were drawn. The female tribute didn't seem anything special, just another girl who was unlucky enough to be arbitrarily drawn from a rigged system. Another lamb sent to be groomed for slaughter. Just the same as it was last year.

xxxWhen it came for the boys turn, a non-academy named was called and a boy who looked scared out of his mind was pushed out by the crowds. He didn't seem like a fighter at all, just a regular kid who was 18 like him who had been so hopeful to dodge the draft but was now dragged towards the stage. Viorel meet the tributes eyes, the wide eye fright that filled it and betrayal. It was as if the other was screaming at him to volunteer, for anyone to do anything. It was kind of funny actually, watching everyone turn their heads to avoid looking at the poor sod who would be getting his butt shipped off to the arena. Fate was just cruel sometimes, he thought to himself with a humourless chuckle.

xxxBut alas, there were rules and appearances to keep and before the reaped could set a foot on the stage, Viorel put up a hand. "I'm volunteering~ It was a nice show and all, but lets be honest. That poor lad wouldn't probably trip off the starting podium and blow himself up." Hiding a mean-spirited laugh behind his hand, Viorel climbed the stares to push the other boy off to the side. "Viorel Dalca, if you please." Even the brief break from the script wasn't enough to deviate the soul numbing drivel into something mildly bearable, Viorel had to remind himself that it would only get more interesting from here on out. Tipping his head back obediently, the tight click of metal encasing his throat brought with it no change only grounding him in this boring reality as metal pressed against his back demanding his compliance. As he was herded towards the train to take him towards the capital, Viorel caught sight of cheery blossom pink the sleepy eyes as one shaky finger pointed directly at him a soundless laugh accompanying it as the other pale hand wrapped around bloody bandages. Pausing for only a split second, Viorel could feel his lips stretch out into a leer that threatened to split his face in half.

xxxReliable Shiki, never disappointing him even in the end.

xxxFlicking his hands in some semblance of a wave, Viorel bid his classmate goodbye, stepping onto the train that would take him to the end.


xxxIbaraki watched as the girl who has originally been chosen be dragged away, an older, though not by much, girl taking her place. That was nice, came the idle thought, that someone cared enough to take their place. It seemed like a bad thing, to be picked. Ibaraki woudn't know, bad memory latching on with a vengeance as anything beyond the fields where each day passed in a blur of pain and work melted away under the bleeding sun. Part of the powers that ate away at a weakly beating heart, Dad had said. Ma was the same. Apparently.

xxxChewing on chapped lips, Ibaraki watched as the lady dressed in all sorts of colors and patters that almost hurt to look at pulled a piece of paper out of another bowl. There really were a lot of clothes that Ibaraki simply didn't know as hazy eyes watched white fingers pull the paper open and the lady read out the name in a nice, pretty, and clear voice.

xxxOh, that was him.

xxxWriggling out of the mess of people squishing the small child on all sides, Ibaraki scurried to the stairs, taking a bit of time to get up them as short gasping breaths cut off each step up. While hard work and manual labour was a well worn friend, so was exhaustion of any kind, only a few steps winding the poor child. Making it onto the stage, Ibaraki made sure to bow towards the other tribute before taking point beside her.

xxxA few more words were spoken, something that Ibaraki couldn't quite follow before strong hands led the child away from the crowds. Panic ran through the small body as Ibaraki wriggled to get free of the multiple people that herded Ibaraki towards some sort of large metal snake, golden eyes darting around to find any opening to return back to Dad if possible. But no such opportunity presented itself as Ibaraki along with the other girl were wrestled into metal collars, Ibaraki's large enough to act almost like a necklace. Clearly they weren't expecting such a thin kid to be reaped. But even that thought wasn't given any time to be processed as Ibaraki was thrown into the belly of the snake and left alone, leaving the poor child reeling in an deeply unfamiliar environment.

xxxGlancing around with fear drawn in every motion, Ibaraki coughed weakly, rubbing at burning shoulders that could still feel the imprints of corralling hands. Nothing looked remotely familiar, nothing like the endless fields of golden wheat that had once defined Ibaraki's life. Instead clashes of colours that seemed so foreign melded together with structures that Ibaraki couldn't even name.

xxxThis was just too much

xxxScrambling up, bare feet sliding against the slick tiling, Ibaraki darted into the closest room available and locked the door shut with heaving gasps. Glancing wildly around, it seemed even more frightening with the enclosed space and multiple white structures littered around the area almost randomly. There was one that looked like a bowl that was attached to a long sturdy stem, another that looked almost identical to the second if not for the extra square behind the bowl, and one that looked like one of the bigger long boxes used for holding gourdes and other large produce. It was all so foreign but Ibaraki took refuge in the one semi-familiar thing and crawled into the bathtub to hide away from the sudden foreign world that the child had been thrust into.

---

As soon as Cas stepped into the train after being roughly shoved in, he looked around, head pounding. As an avox approached him, he stepped back. He felt so disoriented, so incredibly gone. He rolled up his sleeves, and surveyed his surroundings as the avox led him to his room.

A train. He'd been on a train before. It was a similar time. The Capital was sending him somewhere, but this time he was going there, not being returned from it. He sat on the bed gingerly and carefully peered out the window. The locks of his hair fell in front of his eyes. That would need to be changed. After taking a breather in the room and fully digesting the whole situation, at least as far as one could, he stepped out and went to the common room. He would get to know his opponents and hopefully find someone he would be willing to be killed by.

The simplicity of the common room felt oddly comforting as he collapsed into a chair. There was a rose to the side of him. It reeked of death. The stench of blood made him feel nauseous. But still, the Capital was always watching. Picking up the rose, Casimir didn't mind that the petals began to slowly fall off, falling gracefully. The thorns pricked his palm as he twirled it in the sunlight. If he died as gracefully, maybe he would be able to be remembered at least a bit. The little runoffs of blood slowly danced down his lightly toned arms. The crimson liquid glistened in the sunrays that streamed through the windows., full of little cells that would die for Casimir. They were Casimir, and Casimir was them. Just like the Capital. It sickened him to the core to think that he was like the Capital.

The last petal stood, alone on the rose. He glanced up a camera, and deliberately placed the petal in his mouth. As he closed his mouth, he could taste the floral tones. Not the best meal for a Hunger Game beginning, but at least it would be a statement. Let the Capital be enraged, it wasn't like they could get a second male tribute.

Cas wiped his blood off on the seat he was sitting on, watching as the color seeped through the cushions. It wouldn't matter if he lived or died, he would try to go against the Capital as much as he could. He could kill a Gamekeeper, he could sit, passive, in the Training Center, he could even kill himself. That didn't matter.

As he pondered it, his fingers unconsciously went up to the metal hoop fastened around his neck. It was high-tech, and it did its job. Casimir didn't want to use his powers yet. If he somehow found a way to get the collar off before they got to the Capital, he could reroute a tree root and block the tracks. Kill everyone on the train, including him. Especially that vile Peacekeeper.

Speaking of the Peacekeeper, Casimir remembered him mentioning the train compartment with the buffet. The irresistible smells of nourishment wafted through the air, almost like in a cartoon. Still, Casimir turned his head away from the compartment, and continued to watch the trees outside the train, watch them speed past him, maybe just as fast as his life was whittling away.

---

"Alrighty, I'm off. Thank you Charcoal the cat, for just being there. And if I don't come back home... well I'll just have gone somewhere else. I guess I don't want you to starve if I don't return." Sobble walks towards a brick house and knocks on the door. A blond haired girl wearing a grey skirt and a black jacket. "Hey Lisa, take care of my cat for me while I'm gone. I know I can rely on you, you've been one of my childhood friends for a long time." Sobble hands her the grey cat, Sobble's bittersweet smile appears on his face.

The girl nods, and takes in the cat. Sobble's smile is replaced with a more confident smile, one of determination. "Alright, enough messing around." Sobble runs towards the train and jumps on. The trains interior was like one Sobble once saw, he could remember it very clearly. "Man, this feels familiar. The train interior just feels right, I can't explain it though."

The first thing Seraphina did was burst into the dining room and attack the food. For a girl of her small stature, it was a wonder- or perhaps expected, really- she managed to move so swiftly across the room.

She had no interest in the other tribute- just another lamb who would be slaughtered within a month or two either way.

Sos he spent her time focusing on important things.

Like food.

--

Aleksandr blacked out for a good 10 minutes.

When he returned to a complete state on consciousness, he was standing in the hallway of the train to the capitol, swaying with the train's movement, his throat suddenly very, very dry.

he took a deep breath in, then out.

Patterns. Look for patterns. Calm down.

He tapped his finger against teh wall beside him.

Wood. How many planks? Sh*t. I can't-

He took a deep breath in.

Then out.

In.

Then out.

He closed hsi eyes for a moment, before opening them, pale bleu eyes darting around the train as he took a shaky step forward.

---

Casimir started when she entered the room abruptly. He sat there, stunned, for maybe a few seconds. That's it. Tough guy act over. Casimir brushed the blood off of him and stood.

He took maybe a few more seconds to decide what to do. And his decision was just to sit back down. As he watched the girl devouring the food, he just sat there idly, his eyes cast downwards. His fingers were intertwined together, squeezing the life out of each other, as he tried to recollect who this girl was.

District 7, something something Weiss

She seemed... alright. He definitely didn't want to fight her, but at the same time, he wasn't sure if he wanted to befriend her, or strike a deal.

His ears twitched at the sound of the train door opening and he whipped his head around. Another tribute had arrived. District 2, something Konstantin something. He nodded respectfully at the tribute and turned back to the wall. He felt suffocated. Two tributes and no clear way out without talking.

His hands scrabbled at the restraint around his neck, searching for any button. With a click the device fell gently into his hands.

Panicked. He felt panicked.

He stood abruptly and began to race to his room. If the other tributes had seen it happen, and were out to get him, they could easily tell a peacekeeper and land Casimir in hot water, before they had even reached the Capitol.

---

Andrea gave the Peacekeeper clipping the collar around her neck a threatening smile, eyes boring into his soul with an intensity like no other. As the Peacekeeper finished clipping the collar, he suddenly clutched at his neck, gurgling and choking. The faint red mist swirling around Andrea’s hands disappeared, and she grinned, eyes lighting up with pure delight. “Aww, poor thing. Feels horrible to be the own cause of your death, huh?” She questioned mockingly, as the Peacekeeper before her fell to the ground, coughing up blood as he hacked and wheezed for air. Twirling the collar around her neck almost lazily, Andrea leaned down, pressing onto him, making things all the more worse for the poor Peacekeeper. When his body stilled, she scoffed “Thought he’d last longer. Pathetic” She kicked his body down the train carriage, opening the window and throwing his body out. She then resumed her position on one of the chairs in the dining hall.

The train sped right past the Capitol, heading on with no signs of stopping.

whats dis

---

---

---

Liro Alexandrite

---

---

Liro had seen this form of transport before, steely and silver and sleek, snaking down railway lines that connected the Districts to the Capitol. Stopping in District 12 to leave more Peacekeepers and ensure no rumours or indications of rebellion. Though more often collecting mountains and mountains of coal unearthed from the mines by the locals before racing back.

He knew it would be luxurious, but this was beyond his expectations. Smooth elegant features, delicate architecture and colours he had never imagined all fusing into the lush environment as if it were natural. Rich, quality food that adorned a banquet-like table that would have kept his family going for months. Liro couldn’t help but stare at the expensive sights in the carriage of the train, having to restrain himself from lunging towards the buffet.

Slowly. He thought, taking careful portions of the indulgent cuisine at a time. One plate, then another and another. Rich flavours, spicy and sweet and sour and savoury. All so delicious. After ploughing through three dishes of food, he decided it was enough for his stomach to consume for a while. It then came to him that he was full. Full! Rarely would he find himself stuffed like the wild turkey shot from the woods, let alone fed enough. It would have been beautiful, perfect even, the whole spectacle of endless meals and entertainment. Assistants waiting to be called when needed, the luxury of the train. They had barely scratched the surface of Capitol life. And maybe he wouldn't mind it, if he wasn't on a set course for the Arena. For most, this was a one way ticket to the Capitol. The idea made him regret that last plate.

---

---

Celaine Airus

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---

The restraint made Celaine anxious. Cold harsh metal clamped around her neck, draining her energy dry of power. And her ego. Stepping onto the train, she quickly surveyed her surroundings and wrinkled her nose. She could see the message behind the glitz and glamour of the tribute train. Sickening. What monsters.

Ignoring the meek Avox that pointed in the direction of her chamber, Celaine slipped inside the room and pulled the door to a close tightly behind her. The less mingling the better, even if it severed the opportunity of forging an alliance. They all ended viciously anyway, so why make friends when you know they have to die? She wouldn’t do that. Especially to that young child, the other tribute.

She could only hope that someone would kill the kid, so she wouldn’t have to inflict any harm.

Finally, she took in the sights of her room. The same cohesive luxury was found there, as it was in the rest of the carriages. Inescapable, just like most tribute’s fate. Celaine took a breath to calm herself, steadying the nerves that quickened her heart, begging for the painful thumps in her chest to end as Rya’s heartbroken and betrayed face formed in her head.

How could she? It was that poor girl’s turn, not hers.

Rya would never forgive her, even if she came back victorious. After the smiling through tears, they wouldn’t be the same.

And it was all because of those two stupid words.

don’t let this die!

---