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[theaigames]

Training Station: District Two (Joshua)

"Please wait for a-a minute..." the bushy-haired man starts nervously while he places the bow and arrow in level with the dummy's heart.

Joshua and Allison nod as they wait. In reality, they've given up on Deandre. The boy's fear is visible as he continues to shake. They'd bet anything he wouldn't hit the target.

Deandre lets go of the arrow that hits the floor before it even reaches the dummy.

Allison taps Joshua's shoulder and leaves the Dummies Station.

"Where are you heading?" Joshua asks in a whisper.

"Away, over to the Obstacle Station, I guess..." Allison replies without meeting her partner's eye. "Look," she glances behind her, "the kid probably knows he's rejected. He knows he's wasting our time," she explains. "I don't care if he's from District 1, he's still weak. Even his partner seems to dissmiss him"

It's always been expected that the District 2 Tributes be the ones to form The Careers. Joshua doesn't know how to assemble the great alliance, exactly. He's even surprised that he's angered about his partner having no idea, also, no concern on how as well.

Allison brushes it off, like it's no big deal, like it isn't important. Arrogant as District 2, but her ignorance resembles District 12. Joshua's rage seems to soar even higher. If it were up to him, he wouldn't even choose Allison as an ally. He'd chop her head off with a sword in an instant.

But then again, whom's it really up to? Simon? The person who gave up on him, who called him pathetic and a shame to his District? If it were up to that old man, he would probably let Joshua die. In fact, he would probably enjoy watching him die.

Then the thought struck Joshua. This is one of the things mentors choose to leave unspoken or spoken. It's clear to Joshua that Simon left it unspoken to him, but possibly made it the core of his discussions with Allison.

All this time, they've left him, hanging foolish. He wouldn't have it. He would form his own alliance--no, she would get the strong ones. He would have to steal them away, turn them against his District partner, but would they be that gullible?

This guy from District 1 probably would be desperate enough as he looks close to tears. Too bad he's not in.

Putting his pride high, Joshua's set to leave the sad boy alone and stride to hunt for possible allies when he hears a clatter of spear twenty feet away.

He almost laughs at how pathetic that person's aim was if he hadn't heard people already laughing.

He's surprised to see a group, with a small girl in the middle who's laughing along at her own failed attempt. Then it makes sense to; they're the tributes from the lower districts.

The blonde girl stops laughing when she catches Joshua's eye. She doesn't feel threatened, though, which leaves Joshua even more puzzled. Most of the people look away when they see him, but not this tiny girl.

She even smiles before reaching her spear.

Joshua couldn't help but be the one to look away. No, he tells himself. You aren't intimidated, you're just weirded out by her, that's all.

He rarely sees people smile, unless it's because of their own triumph or because it was an intimidating smirk. Her smile seems and feels different from the perspective of someone who had been smiled at.

Joshua looks at the girl again. She's heading toward him. Why is she heading toward him? A rush of heat feels Joshua's insides. Why should he feel nervous? He's from District 2! A flood of thought came running through his mind. It felt like the slowest two seconds of his life.

He can't explain why this girl is coming toward him. She doesn't have a chance if she's thinking of entering The Careers. All he could do was stare and not stare to avoid actually looking nervous.

Then, she surpasses him.

"Hey!" he hears her greet someone behind him. Joshua turns to see her greeting Deandre.

Joshua scoffs to himself. They're going to be hunted by the Careers if they team up. They're going to be hunted by me.

They continue a long and friendly conversation. Well, the girl keeps on talking while the guy nods politely. He seems to be threatened even by her friendly personality too. It's like there's nothing that doesn't threaten him.

Joshua continues listening over their conversation, before finally leaving with the note that her name is Hollie. She's not good at anything. And she's from District 12.

He passes by a curly-haired girl who positions herself to aim the dummy's drawn eye.

"Did you draw that yourself?" Joshua asks, hiding the fact that he may be potentially impressed.

"No, I did," interrupts a hairy-faced man behind him.

Joshua recalls him being from District Nine. Later, a group of tributes appear to watch as the girl hits the target with one of a knife. It's harder to hit the dummy's head. Joshua stays to watch for curiousity.

One throw was all it take for her to succeed. The other four tributes cheer like their lives aren't threatened. They seemed to have already formed an ally of their own.

Joshua seemed to have absently gazed back at Hollie, who, surprisingly, had thrown the spear successfully onto the dummy's center. It's puzzling to label her as good or not. He just labels her as inconsistent. There, she starts again with the irrelevant giggling that couldn't escape Joshua's mind even if he'd try, which he didn't.

(review)

[theaigames]

Training Station: District One (Jessica)

Jessica, Deandre and Jennifer eat their breakfast in a painful silence, all contemplating the day still to come. Jessica occasionally glances from her bread pudding to Deandre, who remains completely oblivious. She's worried about last night, and how she felt about him. It hadn't been a feeling she had ever felt before. The emotion makes her feel weak, and she can't stand it. She is stronger than Deandre, she knows that for sure. But being close to him makes her feel so vulnerable. She tries to shake away the strange emotion as she turns back to her breakfast, poking at it with her fork. She suddenly isn't quite so hungry anymore.

“Do both of you know what you'll be working with today?” Jennifer asks as she reaches for the pitcher of juice. She seems to be the only one who can eat.

Jessica glances again at Deandre on reflex, and quickly looks back to Jennifer. He looks at Jessica, too.

“I think I'll do a little with arrows, but then practice some techniques I'm not so good at.” She'd decided on her strategy during her long, restless, night. She had been too worried to sleep. She already knows she could shoot an arrow, but she can't tell an edible plant from a deadly one if her life depended on it. And she can almost guarantee it will at some point.

“Smart plan.” Jennifer praises her with a smile, and Jessica feels a bit of pride in herself. “What about you, Deandre?” Jessica turns back to her food.

"I... Uh..." he mutters, looking back down at his plate. "I didn't really have a plan yet. I don't know what I'm good at." he looks up and tries to meet Jessica's eyes, but she avoids his gaze.  Suddenly the design on the carpet seems incredibly intriguing to her wandering eyes, and she lets them rest there.  Her heart is fluttering.

"I'm going to get dressed." she mumbles, pushing her chair out with a screech, and rushing from the room before Jennifer even excuses her.  She can't stand being near him anymore.

--

After they are given instructions, Jessica rushes to the bow and arrows station.  She wants to be first in line so that she can establish, to everyone, that she isn't just a pretty face.  As she glides toward the rack of weapons by the targets, she lets her eyes wander between the other tributes in the room.  She soon realizes that it's easy to tell The Careers apart from the others.

At the rack of weapons she reaches for a silver bow, curling her thin fingers around it's delicate frame.  The feeling was familiar and brought warmth to her, even if the metal of the structure was cool.  But as she's reaching for the arrows another familiar hand reaches in front of her.

"Can you help me learn to shoot?" Deandre asks, grabbing the arrow she is reaching for and flipping his wild hair out of his eyes.  Her heart begins to pound.

"I'm not very good at teaching," she replies, trying to take the arrow back from him.  He pulls it further away.

"You could try?" he suggests halfheartedly, and she realizes that he's not giving in.  She sighs and turns, replacing the bow on the rack and sauntering away from her district partner. 

She can feel the eyes of the others on her, and she can only hope that The Careers saw her strength in kicking the weak-link aside.  She needs allies that can help her win.

She decides to take some time to work with camouflage, which is the station furthest from the knot-tying Deandre is working with.  She keeps glancing over her shoulder at him.  A few tributes that can't identify join him, and he slowly warms up to them.  She is appalled to see the three of them laughing like old friends.  But at the same time, she feels slightly left out.  No one has spoken to her yet. 

She blinks slowly and turns back to the station.  It is completely empty, aside from a girl that she thinks is from district 11.  She is remarkable with the mud set up at the table.  Her arm could pass as a strangely shaped stone, whereas Jessica realizes she would be lucky if her own arm isn't even more visible with her failing attempt at camouflage.  Oh well.  She knows her arrows can gain her a good enough score. 

She tries not to worry too much as she heads to the next station, which has something to do with edible plants.  All the same, she can't help but glance once again over her shoulder at Deandre and his group.  She doesn't need him. She just has to keep reminding herself of how weak he is, and how he'll only bring her down.

[theaigames]

Hello. I'm Liane, the new girl. I love Hunger Games and American Idol and when I saw that this was happening I was torn between happiness and fear. I'm going to edit mostly, and write a couple of scenes. I also write fluff fanfiction and I post it on Thea's Tumblr because I'm chicken. I will love you forever if you request.

I might be a bit busy, but I go to the internet everyday after I study. I feel a bit weird doing this because its real people doing this. Yet, there are weirder people. So that's okay. I just pray none of these real people in the fic read it. That's terrifying.

Thank you, and happy reading!

[theaigames]

Post-Parade & Pre-Training: District 4, 12, and 6 (There's a kiss)

  Erika doesn't even bother admiring their room for the week. Straightly, she asks, "Where is my bed?" to anyone who bothers to listen.

Gillard, her stylist, is as clueless about the room as she is, but he randomly points at a door.

Erika thanks him before heading to the bedroom to change.

When she goes back outside, she sees David, Jason (who hasn't changed yet), also Gillard and Prish, who are already seated in the dinner-table.

"No," David replies truthfully. No one seems as eager to discuss the games as her. He invites her to eat with them, but she's as punctual as ever and already in a seat.

David's a little glad to see her smiling for the first time. Tommy Hilfiger's comments seem to bring her into a positive mood, she doesn't badger them into talking about possible strategies for tomorrow's training. She has no idea how Tommy's comments have little to no effect on the viewers' eyes. David would do anything to help her maintain this way. It's so much better to see her smile than be angry, paranoid, and possessive.

David's not allowed to root for someone more, but he wished Jason showed a little more concern.

He doesn't even think Jason listens when the three of them talk. He needs to find a way for Jason and him to talk privately.

What he doesn't know is that his friend has given up. Jason has accepted the fact that he is about to die soon. All that's left for him to do is accept it and stop himself from secretly crying every night. Being dead doesn't scare him, dying does. He used to be scared of changing and leaving all that he has, but that has already happened.

-

Finally relieved that the Opening Parade is over, Steven, Colton, and Hollie rush to their new room.

If the compartments of the Capitol trains were breath-taking, would suites of the Capitol kill them? With its beauty, it probably could. The colors of purple are dancing everywhere in the room with elegant furniture that Steven has already been used to. Still, he enjoyed the gaping faces of his tributes.

"Let's feast," he starts. Steven seems to be in a good mood today because of Jimmy Iovine's comment on his tributes being surprising. Sponsors support the interesting tributes. Finally, District Twelve holds a promising pair of tributes.

Then again, another thought manages to pop out of Steven Tyler's mind: even if they have a lasting impression on the fans of the Games, that might be a negative effect on the Gamemakers.

Steven takes a glance at Colton who is standing idly on the corner, oblivious to what he has become... A faithful and loving brother, with the word 'possible rebel' plastered on his forehead. He feels they've marked him as target number one.

"We're sorry about the costumes," starts Alfie shyly with Greta nodding behind him. "It's just... District Twelve is so hard to translate into beautiful clothing, darlings!" he adds.

Steven brushes it off. Being a fashionable man, he doesn't really care about what others would have to say. Plus, it's Greta and Alfie's reputation who is in jeopardy with that matter. "Eat with us," he says to cheer them up.

"It's alright," adds Hollie, patting Alfie's shoulder. "I like my costume. It's comfy!" she adds happily. Her laugh echoes while she moves weirdly around in her jumper. She can't keep her mind off the parade, the rush of the applause surrounding her. Her happiness is affecting all the people around her.

Even Colton manages to smile. "Oh!" shouts Greta delightfully, pointing at Colton. "He can smile!" she adds.

The whole room bursts into laughter.

"Good improvement, Colton," adds Steven before he takes a seat on the dinner table.

All of them follow.

"Is this all for us?" Colton asks in awe. If he were able to send all this food to his district, no one would go hungry for a week. He can't cope on the idea of finishing all of this in one sitting.

"Of course!" Steven replies. "Now eat everything you can. They're not kidding when they call it The Hunger Games!"

Only Alfie and Greta laugh.

Somehow the fear manages to crawl back to the tributes' mind.

It hits Colton like a slap on the face. His image matters. Everyone is watching.

The interview is playing all over his mind. They are playing God and he needs to cope with the system to stay alive, with the belief that someone, a group of men, could hold and take full control of his life. He's not quite sure if he could deal with that. He manages to croak out, "Help me," to Steven.

They discuss a strategy.

-

"Come with me."

"Where?" asks Lauren right away.

"Up," Scotty replies. "On the rooftop!" His deep and low voice manages to sound higher with excitement.

This is what they wanted to do all along: see the world. The Capitol is a smaller structure of the whole world. Still, it's the best representation of all of Panem. Seeing the Capitol meant seeing the whole of Panem, so they said.

Scotty can't wait to prove that saying to be true with his best friend. "You can see the whole Capitol up there!" he tells her, nudging Lauren off her bed.

Lauren rubs her eyes before sitting up from her bed. She yawns twice.

Scotty waits patiently for Lauren to recover from her sleep. "How can you sleep in a time like this?" Scotty adds while waiting near the door.

Lauren looks at the wall-clock. She raises an eyebrow. "It's past midnight," she explains flatly. She thought she was just dreaming when Scotty asked her to go with him. "Don't tell me you haven't slept yet?" she adds. "Paula would flip! Our first training starts at ten!"

Scotty laughs it off. He couldn't sleep, the applause of the city still keeps ringing inside his mind. He's also excited about the training, all the strategies they have talked about with Paula.

"Come on, let's go!" he says once more when he helps Lauren attempt to stand up.

Still, groggy, Lauren manages to follow Scotty quietly out of the room to the fire exit heading to the rooftop.

"Is it pretty up there?" Lauren asks while they're climbing the stairs, two floors left.

"It better be," Scotty replies while they start running.

Lauren slows down. "You mean you haven't seen it yet?" She's starting to feel unsure. What if they bump into peacekeepers? Sneaking out isn't really allowed. Before she starts calling it off, Scotty explains, "I was waiting for you to wake up. I didn't want to spoil the view without you."

Lauren doesn't want to let him see her blushing. She maneuvers in front of him while they continue walking.

"You snore when you sleep, do you know that?" Scotty asks before finally reaching the door of the rooftop.

"Ready to see the world?" he asks her excitedly.

Lauren nods.

Slowly opening the door, bit by bit, the view is being revealed.

When they step outside... disappointment meets them.

"It's beautiful," Lauren says, trying to convince herself. The city is blocked by another wider building near them. They can't see the other side of the view since their path is blocked by boxes.

"Do you think it's better there?" Scotty asks, trying to fit pass the boxes. He tries to take a peek. "I think I see more light there!" he adds excitedly, looking for a way.

Lauren gets tired. She sits down on the floor while she watches her friend look for a better place. "Give it up, Scotty," she yawns in boredom.

Scotty doesn't listen. He starts lifting one of the boxes but it's too heavy. "Help me."

Lauren sighs. She doesn't move. "Give it up..." she says once more.

"Don't you want to see the view?" Scotty presses on, "We can't if you won't let me lift this up." He's not really sure if there's a better view at the other side of the boxes, but what's life without hoping? He could have sworn he saw spotlights.

"Maybe those were the peacekeepers' flashlights? I mean guards'..." Lauren adds fretfully, suddenly falling into a whisper, "Don't be too loud," she warns Scotty.

Eventually, he gives up.

"Where are you going?" Lauren asks when she sees him, heading toward the door.

"I thought you wanted to leave," Scotty replies, disappointed. "I'm sorry I woke you up for nothing," he adds.

Lauren stands up, pats Scotty's shoulder, and says, "Hey, this is something, buddy! I had fun climbing up those stairs." She was lying, climbing up those stairs felt like Hell, but she enjoyed being with her friend.

Scotty shrugs. "This is useless," he says. "We should probably go back to sleep."

"What's the point? Paula's going to wake us up soon," she replies. "Let's stay here. It's just like the fences in District Six..."

Scotty raises his eyebrow.

"You know," Lauren shrugs, trying to find the right words to explain. "It's just like the train stations near the fences." Scotty doesn't seem to understand, maybe Lauren doesn't understand what she's saying as well. "It's just like being with you," she blurts out, later hisses at her own words.

"I remind you of gray wall or a broken fence near the train station?" He laughs at the thought. She's never been that good with words.

What Lauren wants to say is that she always feels most comfortable with Scotty in dull places. Maybe it's because home is generally dull? Maybe Scotty always feels like home? The Capitol is just one big distraction. She'd much rather stare at the gray wall with Scotty while they talk about escaping and hoping to win the games together.

Again, nothing comes out of her mouth except a gasp before a giggle. A small pebble seems to hit Scotty's head.

"What was that?" Scotty asks while he rubs the back of his head.

"I think it's a pebble," Lauren replies, picking up the tiny stone.

Scotty looks around frantically. "Where did it come from!?" He looks so scared, all Lauren can do is laugh even harder.

"Calm down," she tells him. "It didn't hit you that hard, did it?"

Scotty shakes his head. "Still, it better not be intentional," he says, before eventually laughing at what just happened.

Lauren looks closely at his head. "It couldn't have just flown from below, could it?"

Scotty doesn't reply. Maybe it's the bump on his head that makes him see her differently. Maybe he's starting to go mad.

Suddenly, they hear distant footsteps.

"Let's go," Lauren suggests nervously.

"But..." Scotty doesn't know what would come after but. He just doesn't want to leave so soon.

"We'll come back next time," adds Lauren. They'll come back next time. Their next time would probably be their last before the Games.

The entire time they're on top of the rooftop, nobody acknowledges the unique dark clouds on the sky, nobody acknowledges the fact that they have to pretend they're lovers again tomorrow, nobody acknowledges the fact that they feel they aren't faking, and nobody acknowledges the fact that they start kissing.

Finally, their lips part and nobody acknowledges the fact that it was a pain to part. For the first time, Lauren is the first to ask, "Would you think they'd buy it?"

Flatly, Scotty replies, "Yes."

Nobody acknowledges the fact that it was real.

(review)

[theaigames]

Post-Parade & Pre-Training: District 9, 10, and 11 

"The Capitol audience looked so friendly!" Shannon says delightfully.

"Those are all my sponsors, girl!" Casey jokes. "Didn't you notice them chanting my name?"

"They did not!" Shannon replies back, laughing.

The both of them are immune to sadness tonight, especially when they're welcomed by their new room.

Kelly smiles at her tributes' reactions. "This is the most colorful room, I've heard..." she comments.

The colors remind the tributes of the Garden in their district. This isn't a warm feeling for Shannon, but she pushes it off her brain.

"I loved the drapes, Manchester," Shannon assures her stylist who looks saddened by Timmy's comment.

"Let's eat," Kelly tells them.

She doesn't want to waste time, she's been thinking about what Jimmy Iovine's comment could have meant. You will get lost. You will get lost. Almost every year, tributes get lost in the arena. What makes this year's arena special?

You will get lost isn't enough.

"What are your plans for tomorrow?" she starts to ask the pair before they could even start eating.

Shannon and Casey both shrug. Shannon grabs the plate of croissants, while Casey gets two sticks of fruit kebobs. The memory of the rushing crowd takes up all their energy.

"What are your plans for tomorrow?" Kelly repeats without getting any response. She clears her throat to get their attention, but she fails. She doesn't want to start over-thinking, but the paranoia is getting the better of her.

The words keep replaying, dancing inside Kelly's mind. You will get lost. Get lost, you will.

"Hey Casey," she starts once more. "How's your sense of direction?"

"Okay, I guess," he mumbles as he takes a bite of a sliced pineapple.

Okay isn't enough, Kelly thinks. She's thinking about pondering on that later. "Shannon, what about you?"

"Better than him," Shannon jokes. Casey shoots her a questioning look before the both of them burst into laughter.

Casey picks a pea off of his plate and aims it at Shannon before she does the same. Later, even the stylists join in on the chaos.

Kelly couldn't ignore her annoyance any longer, especially when a piece of rice accidentally hits her eye.

"It's alright if you don't want to discuss your plans for the arena," Kelly tries to add over the juvenile laughter. "I mean, I wouldn't want to interfere if you were planning to commit suicide."

Her words have gone too far. She feels everyone else fall into stunned silence.

Of course, only one could be victor. The rest would die out of different reasons. It's an insult to say they didn't try hard enough to win. It's even worse when someone implies that they want to die.

She glances over to Casey and Shannon, whose expression have changed from cheerful and happy to terrified and sorrow. The idea of dying hits them like a bullet through the brain.

"I'm sorry..." Kelly trails off when Casey blows his nose. It's the first time she has seen them cry.

"No, no..." Casey replies. "You're right. What do you want us to do, mentor?" he asks while plastering a smile on his face.

They aren't weak tributes. They're the strongest. They're handling it far better than how Kelly handled it before--the whispers in her head, the visions in her mind, and her never ending tantrum she would throw at her mentor for pushing her aside.

Compared to Kelly, Shannon and Casey seem to look like saints. But when did saints ever win the Games?

"Promise me you would kill someone if you have to," Kelly tells them.

They seem aghast for awhile, but eventually nod.

Some tributes refuse to kill. She's glad Shannon and Casey aren't like them, aren't like her.

Kelly might've damaged people in her times in the Games, but she never took their life. She couldn't even with Justin, her ally's betrayal. She was ready to die. She tells herself, her winning was a fluke, it was a thin chance.

She can't let Casey and Shannon rely in luck.

-

It takes a long time for the three of them to find their room.

Skylar cannot wait any longer. She feels like a lost animal, moving left and right along the corners and hallways of the building. Having no control inside closed spaces makes her feel uneasy, like she's being played.

Sweat starts to drip down her forehead.

"Sweetie, are you okay?" asks the stylist who has noticed Skylar's panting. "We're almost there," she assures while turning left. "Oh, hello Jeorge!" she adds when she passes a purple man on the way.

The man, Jeorge, takes a long glance at Skylar, making her feel even more nervous. She moves slightly behind Ruben Studdard. She doesn't like weird-looking people staring at her like she's the odd one. Well in the Capitol, she realizes, she is the odd one.

The parade flashes back in her mind and the feeling tightens her stomach. Everyone who watched her looked so unnatural. She never identified herself as an earth-loving girl 'til now.

She thought she was someone who was warm, but it seems like she can't find the strength to acquaint herself with this kind of people. Of course, this kind of people expect too much from her, a smiling face with the ability to stand the idea of killing other people and starving.

Can't she change her image to something more stern? She can't play friends and role models with these kinds of people.

Ruben and the rest stop in front of the Door 115 . "We're here!" he announces delightfully, turning his key in the knob.

The look of the room surprises Skylar, not because of its beauty, but because of her reaction. Why does she feel so weird inside? Shouldn't she feel enthralled by this kind of elegance? Of course, elegance has never really enthralled her. She misses the woods and its excitement. No, the arena isn't going to be the same. The arena, this whole Games, is a fancy word for murder. They're not animals. They're people.

"Here," Jermaine says, handing her a handkerchief.

"Thanks," Skylar replies awkwardly. She's been sweating again even if the air in the room's cold enough to make her freeze.

She looks at Jermaine's gun-shaped cane. She misses her gun back at home, the gun that made her feel fearless and prepared. Without it, she's not really sure what she's good at.

Ruben kept on repeating it, "Be the girl people would want to be friends with. Be yourself."

The words make her cringe. Wishing someone good luck doesn't make her automatically friendly. It was Jermaine, he was part of home, no matter how scary he may be. The people who she's going to present herself to are barbarians, they will enjoy seeing her die. That makes all the difference.

Later, at dinner, they start discussing about the Games in which Ruben asks Skylar, "Do you want to make allies?"

He glances at Jermaine to assure him that he's part of the conversation. In reality, just like his suggested state in the Games, he is alone.

"Yes," Skylar replies without any hesitation. She wants to associate herself with the people she would be up against. They're in the same dilemma, aren't they? They're all trapped and they're suffering, trapped to entertain the Capitol.

"I suggest you be allies with the poorer districts," says Ruben.

Skylar nods in return. That's what she was thinking of as well. It's not like she has any chance or desire to join the monstrous Careers, they seem to enjoy this every year.

She tries to reassure herself that she has nothing to worry about. All she has to do for tomorrow's training is look for an easy weapon to master, and keep an eye on the tributes from District 8, 9, 11, and 12.

-

All the energy has drained out from Jeremy and Thia because of the Opening Ceremony. When they enter the beautiful room, the two of them are too tired to even initiate a response. They go straight to bed and sleep, leaving the entire dinner to their mentor Randy Jackson and the stylists.

No matter how comfortable the bed or his position is, Jeremy just can't seem to shut his mind off. Seeing the other tributes in the ceremony made him realize he is hopeless. He thought they were going to be as scared and as unsure as him, but he was wrong. All the tributes, including Thia, seems so calm. They probably have a likelier chance of winning.The girl from District 1 seems so fierce, the way she acts back stage is so much different from the way she presents herself. Even her district partner seems to be fondled by the Capitol. No matter how weak he may present himself, sponsors can save his life.

Jeremy doesn't even want to think about the tributes from 2. They seem so mechanic and robotic, it feels like they will hunt down every other tribute in the Game before turning in against each other, while they enjoy every bit of it.

The crazy ones are in District 9, which surprised him. He couldn't believe the tributes were running and screaming in enthusiasm after the parade. He pictures them as wolves in the arena. District 4 and 8 have the oldest tributes, and he felt their anger of failing to surpass the Reaping when they turned and looked angrily at the people around them. District 3 seem to already be in an wrathful position, he wouldn't want to cross them even if the kid looked like he was crying since sponsors buy into that sympathy. District 5 and 6, like 2, seem to have already form an alliance with each other. The tributes from District 10 seem to have bodies much better built than his own. He's surprised to see people volunteer from District 7 and 12.

The idea of being someone's ally is intimidating. At least it's not as horrifying as the idea of being alone.

He seems to be the only tribute with no strategy or plan. Even Thia has something to rely onto. With her figure, she can hide anywhere.

What can he do, except sing for the mockingjays?

He can't believe he even felt sorry for the other tributes.

With the rush of thought about having no control, he gets up from his bed, hoping Randy is still awake to mentor him alone.

When he gets out from his room, he sees the stylists have gone and Randy's already mentoring Thia.

"Hey, dawg, can't sleep as well?" Randy asks him. "Sit down, let's talk about tomorrow, shall we?"

When Jeremy sits down, Thia looks away as if embarrassed about asking their mentor to help her privately. Why should she be? It's not like Jeremy wasn't thinking about doing the same.

"I want to get allies," Jeremy finally starts when the silence goes on for too long.

"What are your strengths?" Randy asks.

Nothing, he wants to say, but it would be too embarrassing.

"Well, you can't really have allies if they can't benefit from you, dawg!" Randy presses on in a joke. Before he can say it's okay as long as Jeremy can find his strengths by tomorrow, Thia interrupts him.

"I'll be his ally," she says.

Even if he knows she has a likelier chance of surviving alone, Jeremy accepts her offer gratefully. As selfish as he might sound, he doesn't want to be alone.

What he doesn't know is that it was purely in the moment, spoken to calm him down. Thia's not really sure if she could keep her promise.

[theaigames]

Post-Parade & Pre-Training: District 1, 2, & 5

"Welcome to our temporary room!" Jennifer cheerfully announces when her tributes enter after her. "Isn't it lovely?"

"It's like nothing I've ever imagined before," Jessica answers, examining every side. It's even better than their compartment, which she couldn't think to be possible. Her dress matches every corner or furniture.

"It's the most expensive room," informs Jennifer happily. "You guys deserve it."

Deandre knows Jimmy was referring to him. Jessica embodies the ideal tribute of District One, while he’s the surprising tribute who showed weakness.

"Would you like to change first, sweetie?" Jennifer asks Deandre since Jessica's already headed to her room. Deandre nods and goes to his room without saying a word.

"Come and eat with me after you change, okay?" Jennifer asks the both of them.

"Okay," Jessica replies excitedly from her room.

After a few minutes, Jessica walks out from her room, wearing a lovely brown nightgown.

"You look lovely, sweetie," says Keith, her stylist.

"Thank you," Jessica replies, blushing.

"I agree," adds Jennifer, taking a bite of a macaroni salad. "Where's Deandre?" With what she said, Jessica's smile disappears. "Well, never mind, shall we start discussing strategies for tomorrow?" she adds.

Jessica nods.

Tomorrow is their first day in the training center, and Jessica is looking forward to see real tributes.

"Well, you're good at arrows, make sure to show them, okay?" Jennifer suggests. "Do you know what Deandre’s strategy is?"

Jessica shakes her head. All she knows about Deandre is that he'd still look good even if there's snot on his nose. The sponsors will be in line for him. With that angry thought, she almost breaks her glass with her firm grip.

"Make sure to find out, okay?” Jennifer presses on. “You're allies; remember you'll benefit from each other first."

Jessica nods, even if she's annoyed. Still, she's looking forward for tomorrow. How could Deandre sleep at a time like this?

Abruptly, she stands up.

She feels her entire body shaking. It’s not that often, but it does happen. Not this early, but it’s still possible for him to have a go.

"Where are you going?" Jennifer calls.

Jessica doesn't answer. She's busy marching off to Deandre's bedroom.

She knocks three times on the door.

There's no answer.

"Deandre?" she mutters angrily but with a hint of worry.

She couldn't wait anymore. She turns the knob open. She's surprise to see he's not on his bed.

She’s sure sharp objects are prohibited in the building, so are ropes strong enough to be tied into a noose.

When she turns, she sees him, sitting near the window. A sigh of relief escapes from her mouth.

He hasn't changed his clothes yet.

He starts wiping his tears when he sees her looking at him. "I thought you were Jennifer or Fina," he explains. Fina is his Deandre's stylist.

Jessica raises her eyebrows suspiciously. "If I were them, you wouldn't wipe your tears, would you?"

Deandre hides a laugh, he knows he shouldn’t dwell on self-pity, but that’s sort of what he was going for with the Capitol folks. He may be weak, but he isn’t dumb. He turned his weaknesses into an asset before he even noticed he could. Jessica, although not meaning to, helped him realize that.

Later, he tries saying as straight as he can manage, "Why are you here?"

Jessica sits near him. She couldn't believe she ended dinner right away for him. "I'm here to help you," she says as if the words weren’t coming out from her mouth.

Right away, Deandre asks her "How?"

She's surprised he's even letting her. She thought he was going to push her away and she would have to rant on him again. This didn't go according to plan at all.

How can Deandre trust her right away?

"How?" Deandre presses on.

He looks so eager. It's ridiculous how ready he is to trust her, how undoubtful he is about her real intentions. He looks so vulnerable. He trusts her even if she wishes he would die before her.

It's an overwhelming feeling for Jessica.

It would be an overwhelming feeling for anyone.

No one should trust anyone that has the right to kill you.

What's even more overwhelming is the feeling lurching inside her mind, making her feel light and heavy at the same time.

She's starting to bear him.

She's starting to like him.

She's starting to like him too much.

She's starting to like someone who has the power to kill her, no matter what he may seem to be.

They can't be allies forever, but they are for now. How long until the Games? How long before he dies?

Nervously, Jessica starts, and retreats to the dining room.

Deandre's left, puzzled about what just happened. Why did she leave when he asked how she could help him?

He wonders what is going in that girl's mind.

Was the alliance off?

-

"Do you like it?" Simon asks his tributes. "We've traded rooms with District One. I'm sure Jennifer Lopez wouldn't mind, even if she doesn't know," he explains, thinking he sounds amusing.

"It's wonderful," comments Allison.

"Let's eat!" chimes Mason, Allison's stylist.

Simon agrees, leading to the table filled with even a lot more food than in their compartment. He starts, "Now, tributes… hands off the desserts, okay?"

Allison nods, while Joshua barely lifts his head. He's still upset over what happened in the train.

They start eating while Simon carries on with the conversation. He jokes, expecting everyone to laugh, which they do obediently—all except Joshua.

"You can't have more, Joshua, that'd be bad for your energy in the games," warns Simon straightly when he sees Joshua reach for the plate of crawfish once more.

Batkin, Joshua's stylist, senses Joshua's disappointment. "Well, it's not yet the games, is it?" she starts, passing the plate to him, "Have all the crawfish you want today, dear! It's the best, since it's from District Four—“

Simon sighs heavily. "Well, the Games isn't tomorrow, but the training is." he adds firmly. "Do you know that, Batkin?"

Simon knows she doesn't. Humiliating her delights him. He always liked to feel superior from everybody. This girl wasn't an exception, especially after the costume she had designed for Joshua turned out to be a sour taste for the commentator.

Batkin still insists, sliding three crawfish on Joshua's plate.

"Please," Simon starts again. "Batkin, you’re being difficult. Too much crawfish is enough. The kid obviously needs training!" He rarely addresses Joshua by name anymore. When he does, he makes a sour sound to go with it.

"That's okay," Joshua tells Batkin before she insists on giving him some more. Standing up from his seat, he adds, "I lose my appetite when I see something ill."

Joshua continues marching off when neither of them says anything else.

Allison tries to finish all her meal up equally and quietly, scared of Simon scolding her as well.

He doesn't.

"What was that all about?" Dex asks in complete shock by Simon's attitude.

"He deserves it," replies Simon.

When Allison has finished with her meal (she finished it quickly since Simon keeps glaring at her), Simon tells the two new stylists "Rage makes my tributes win." Joshua is Simon's real bet. He would anger him even more to make sure he wins.

"How is that helping Allison?" Batkin asks.

"Don't question my mentoring, Batkin," Simon tells her flatly.

In truth--the most obvious truth, he may add—there could only be one victor.

-

"Here's your new room," Taylor, who is sober at the moment, tells his tributes flatly when they enter the new room.

Even if they're impressed, they do not act up on it. They're still stunned by what they saw earlier. Stefano and Baylie couldn't believe they saw their mentor break down in tears when they were on the train.

The silence feels uncomfortable for Taylor. "What?" he shouts angrily at all of them. "The suite's not big enough or something? I'm getting a drink," he says, standing to head to the kitchen.

Building all the courage inside, Baylie finally mutters, "No."

"What?" both Stefano and Taylor say in surprise.

"What did ya say to me!?" Taylor shouts.

Everyone maintains silence, awaiting the girl's answer.

Baylie would've been scared if she hadn't seen the guy cry earlier. "You're better when you're sober," she explains.

"I'm better when I'm sober? I'm better when I'm sober, she says," Taylor repeats, before he starts barking up a laugh. Rubbing his eyes, he utters, "How can I be better when I feel like total crap?"

Anxiously, Baylie replies, "Well, you're a lot more honest!"

Stefano and the stylists almost laugh before they see Taylor's face looking awfully dumbfounded.

"You have better insight in the truth," Baylie tries to elaborate, even if words always manage to fail her when she needs it the most. In truth, she thinks Taylor's less scary when he's like this. She wouldn't admit that she feared him.

Taylor scoffs at her explanation. "But you've never seen me sober, dear," adds Taylor mockingly.

"You are now," Baylie says.

"I am right now, since you wouldn't let me go to the kitchen!" he explains furiously before walking off.

Luckily, Stefano blocks Taylor's way.

Taylor groans. "Get off my way, man!" He tries to push Stefano, but he doesn't seem to have any strength left. "I need my booze!" He yells and throws tantrums like a child.

"Help us first," Stefano commands with all his courage.

Still groaning, Taylor angrily walks back to the couch.

"Thank you," Baylie tells him.

"I still don't understand how I'm showing truthful insight right now," Taylor mumbles, before toppling off.

He's only acting drunk, Baylie and Stefano could see through that.

"You weren't drunk on the train," Stefano adds.

The color flushing off of Hicks' face was very obvious to everyone. Still, he continues on with his excuse. "You're wrong, boy. You saw me drinkin', didn't you?"

"Not after you went to restroom..." replies Stefano.

Taylor's eyes widen; his trying to pull Stefano off from speaking.

They might've been watching in the trains. He's sure they’re watching him now.

Unfortunately, Stefano doesn't sense it as he keeps on talking. "You told us the truth then, about what it felt like being in the arena... I think you even mentioned how you managed to win... You even told us something about what happened aft—“

"Will you shut up!?" Taylor yells, waving his arms in panic before Stefano let's slip about the warning. He doesn’t even address the two stylists who are awaiting their recognition.

He knows he has ticked something off. The kids are too naïve to see through his drunken words. But if they were indeed being watched in the train, President Snow would have him killed right away. He would have the two killed right away as well.

What he said in the train comes back to his mind.

"You think I enjoy all the alcohol in my mind? It's the only thing I have helping me block the last twenty years! You're worried about the horrors to come? It's actually quite exciting in the Games... you get to hunt, to look out, to climb trees--think of it as an extreme game of hide and seek... and kill. The problem's if you die of course.” He laughed before he got a glass from the shelf. “Ha, worry about the horrors to come after, when everyone you love's held hostage, when everyone you care about can die by the snap of his fingers! I'm sick of helping all of you bastards! I'm sick of getting my hopes up, thinking someone would finally take my place as mentor, later watching them die. You think I'm a sadist because I'm telling you what the Capitol people will enjoy? I don't enjoy the truth just as much as you guys... if you knew the truth. You think this is all fun for me, awaiting people's death, carrying it in the back of my mind every year? Every year the list of people I'm guilty for grows longer. You don't understand how drinking is my only escape..." he continued crying. Later, he added, "I'm still part of the Games too, you know," before he refilled his brain with a glass of strong alcohol.

"Please," Baylie tells Taylor, awaking him from his thoughts.

"Fine," Taylor tells them begrudgingly while he rubs his eyes. "But you have to promise me you wouldn't add your names on my list."

"What list?" asks Stefano.

"Oh good, you forgot," adds Taylor, finally able to change the subject.

He doesn't want to get his hopes up on this year's tributes, but they're the only ones who have shown determination. With that, he tries to help them as hard as he can.

(note: HE WAS A GOOD MAN)

(review)

[theaigames]

hey, i'm not sure when will i update soon because i have the drafts but i haven't added them all up together because i'm freaking busy so um... if any wants to be a co-admin and co-write the fanfic let me know. i will tell you other information of other chapters lol and you can correct the grammar and add things and stuff.

[theaigames]

Post-Parade & Pre-Training: District 3, 7, & 9

She wonders what would happen tomorrow on the training centre; would he be dancing happily while he using a sword as a baton or juggling all the maces riding a unicycle? She couldn't even believe that guy tried to flirt with her! Whatever the reason for that guy's happiness was, it's pretty insulting.

Maybe it's her rage talking. Haley tries to push it off her mind when it's dinner time.

She has no time to ponder on how beautiful the room is since everyone looks like they're angrier than her. Being Haley, that's a pretty angry standard.

Eben and Lee eat as fast as they can to avoid each other.

Thank God, they have stylists who seem to be the only ones engaging in conversation. Haley tries to join them but she couldn't understand what or who were Valeria and Gusius talking about.

Eben's the first to finish his meal. "I'm off to bed," he says, in which Lee grunts in place of "You're excused."

Gusius tries to help. "Wouldn't it be the right time for you to discuss your strategies first?" he asks them.

Lee sighs heavily. Finally, "What are you good at?"

Eben merely grunts back. "I don't know," he answers; sure that Lee would probably laugh at him.

"Good," Lee says flatly. "There might be I-don't-know in the weapon station, use that to impress the Gamemakers," he adds sarcastically.

Eben grunts again before leaving the room.

No one says another word.

Right after Eben left, Lee slowly pulls the conversation back to the Games in order to help Haley. “Do you plan on doing something?” Lee starts casually.

Shouldn't she be happy she's being favored? She can't be. The two boys are being childish.

She doesn’t say anything.

“Knives are pretty handy,” Lee continues awkwardly. “You can aim it directly at the dummies, can’t you?” He’s poking his pie with a fork before adding, “Try to be a little less angry… that would help you with the Gamemakers. Try making a good impression. You probably know that, right?”

“Stop it,” Haley finally blurts out.

Lee and the stylists look at her with confusion.

“You’re being immature,” she adds. Later, she apologizes. Again, anger has surged up inside of her, making her blurt out words that make her sound stupid and mean. "This dress is just really uncomfortable! It's irritating me!" was her last excuse. Realizing Gusius is there, she quickly adds, "It's a nice dress though. I'm sorry!" No one could ever make an apology sound so angry.

In front of Lee isn’t the ideal place to show weakness, she figures. She heads right to her bedroom, thinking whatever happens tomorrow happens. She starts to let all her tears out. Also, she writes a mental note about keeping an eye on that cheerful guy from the district of fruits.

-

After Kris Allen told the tributes about his never-changing strategy plan of hunting down the District 8 tributes first, Phillip requested to call it a day and head straight to bed when he finished his meal.

Kris insisted, "How could you have enough of this right away? We were thinking of discussing tomorrow's training!"

Phillip shrugged. "Brielle will tell me," he said without even consulting Brielle. He rushed to his room, eagerly looking forward to change from the uncomfortable loincloth-shorts to pajamas. He appreciated his stylist's efforts though.

Left in the kitchen, Kris Allen discusses more strategies for tomorrow with Brielle who is trying to take all of it in, despite it being very confusing.

Thankfully, Allen doesn't badger her by asking why she volunteered for the Games anymore. It's no use on Allen's side. Why should he care about his tributes' personal life? All he needs to do is help them make impressions, gain sponsors, and hopefully win.

"So what are you good at?" Kris finally asks trying to sound as least anxious as possible.

Brielle hesitates before answering. "I'm a fast runner..." Her sister shared the same talent. But there's one thing that makes her chance of winning likelier than Belle's. "I can be as close to any of the tributes, and they wouldn't feel my presence," she adds. "…meaning, if the Gamemakers would target me, they'd target all the other tributes as well... and they're most likely to die. I’m like the unintentional assassin," she adds with a smirk.

Kris is impressed. "Our target score is Seven to Twelve. What can you show the Gamemakers?" She couldn't possibly hide in the training centre when they grade her, could she?

"Leave it to me," replies Brielle flatly. Boldly, she adds, "To be honest, I don't understand why you keep on targeting District Eight, Allen. They're not really much of a threat, are they?"

"The reason why they're not much of a threat is because you kill them early," Kris insists.

In reality, his reasons are pretty shallow.

When Kris watched Carrie in the Games, he secretly rooted for her to win despite the fact that she's from District Two. After she became the sixth victor from District Two, she became a mentor of another district since Simon Cowell did not want to drop his place. She picked District Eight, since no one was placed for them.

Finally Kris won, he saw Carrie in real life and he couldn't help but be in awe, he wouldn't mind being in awe every year. Also, he's intimidated by her. The only thing he wants is for his tributes to outlast hers. He's been doing that for the past three years, targeting District Eight to make sure no one from that district emerges as victor, replacing Carrie as a mentor.

No, he doesn't have a tiny crush on her.

Brielle just nods. She's still not quite convinced about Allen's explanation. She needs to ask about the Games more. "Do you think it's also about luck?"

She doesn't want to offend Kris but she thinks that's a big factor why he won. Just like her sister, everyone expected Adam to win in Allen’s year if it weren't for the mutts.

"Yes," Kris answers straightly without relating his own experiences, without remembering his own experiences. "That's the point of the phrase."

May the odds be ever in your favor. Those words could just haunt her forever. The odds weren't on her sister, would it be on hers?

"Don't think you don't need techniques, though..." adds Kris.

She knows she does. "I know. I actually have a plan," she adds.

"What's that?"

"How about we make them allies, the tributes of District Eight? You know, let them gain our trust and then kill them?" she shrugs. She doesn't seem to believe her own suggestion, but it's worth saying something.

Kris responds to it whole-heartedly, he has no idea why he hasn’t thought of it before. "Yes!" he says, clapping his hands. "Let's see how that goes." He's so happy, he could hug her.

It's Brielle's choice if she would share her plans with Phillip. They only assumed she would.

- 

In the highest Capitol building, there are four rooftops. Phillip secretly climbed to one of those rooftops. He didn't expect to see another man crying.

Just as Phillip was about to retreat, the other man sees him. "It's okay, I'm okay with having company," he explains.

"Er... Thanks, man," Phillip starts awkwardly. He's not really used to making friends... especially in a time and place like this. Maybe they wouldn't even mind each other?

He doesn't want to go back to his room where it's quiet. Up here is better. The lights and the beauty of the Capitol are outshining them. He takes a sit on the further corner.

"Heejun," says Heejun after wiping his tears.

“Phillip,” he replies. Phillip isn’t sure if he needs to extend a hand or something. It's not a casual place, is it? Then again, he's never really been to casual places.

Heejun notices the man clutching on to what looked like an index card.

"It's a picture," Phillip explains when he notices Heejun staring. "...would you like to see?" he asks. He would show Hannah to the world tonight if he could, even if he's not the showy type. Didn't he just announce he loved her in the Reaping?

Phillip shows him a picture.

Heejun sees a girl smiling. They share similar features—the typical 'wooden' look. "She's pretty," he tells him truthfully. Feeling comfortable, he tries to add, "Now, if you want your privacy, I could just leave..."

Phillip hits him lightly in the shoulder, thinking he's funny. "Ha, no man, it's cool. I was just sort of letting go of this," he stumblingly explains. "I just want to release this here..." he adds.

In some weird way, he was feeling sort of sentimental. He never really understood sentimentality though. Later, he takes out a picture of his family.

"Wouldn't that be considered littering?" Heejun asks.

Phillip laughs. Later, answers, "How could it be when it's not trash?"

"Is this something religious?" Heejun asks again.

"Haha, no," Phillip replies.

When he let's go of the picture, it wouldn't necessarily mean it's gone forever, would it? It will be floating in the Capitol, not lost but wandering, wandering around this place of change. Whatever happens, the picture will not change. Anyone who sees the picture of a smiling guy and girl who aren't wearing loud Capitol fabrics, a picture of an old-looking family in a pawnshop, couldn't change it. No matter where it will be in the Capitol, it will stay the same.

Also, he was bored in his room. Phillip sighs. "How did I come up with this metaphor all of a sudden?" Written in the back of the photo reads, it will never change.

He lets go of his picture with Hannah first. The wind isn't as violent as expected, and when the photo's almost halfway to the ground, it's as if it doesn't want to go down.

Heejun notices it as well. "Am I the only one who thinks it's floating?" he asks Phillip.

"No, I think it is floating," Phillip replies, confused. He's not really mad that the picture's stuck there. He has another one on his room. He doesn't throw the picture of his family down though.

The picture of him and Hannah’s just lying there… in the empty air, like there’s an invisible floor that catches everything.

He finds broken cement at the corner of the floor, picks it up, and throws it hard down, but it bounces back up.

"I think it's a force field," says Heejun. "I think it’s supposed to keep anyone from committing suicide. It would bring them back up."

"Who would commit suicide? Couldn't they wait until the Games start or something?" asks Phillip.

Heejun doesn't say anything for a while. Being in Big Brother Group, he understands those types of kids with horrific thoughts. Not everyone's expected to understand it. "What about your picture?" he finally asks. Because it’s paper, it doesn't rebound back unlike the rock.

"What if I throw another rock near it? Would the picture bounce with the rock?" Phillip asks, looking forward to test what they've just found. "You try," he tells Heejun, handing him a pebble.

Heejun's glad. He secretly wanted to try throwing things down. Also, he thought it might relieve stress.

With his best aim, he throws the stone toward the photo.

"Good job, buddy!" comments Phillip. Neither of them acknowledges the fact that they are both tributes or it is awkward to assume they're friends. They've been caught up by what they're doing, they do not care.

The rock bounces high back up, while the photo only reacts briefly before subsiding again.

What surprises them is a hand reaching for it four floors below, grabbing the photo.

"Let's throw rocks at his hand," Heejun mutters making Phillip crack up.

Suddenly, they hear footsteps, then a voice.

Finally, being able to see them, "Carrie's looking for you, Heeju--" starts Elise, unable to finish when she sees Phillip. She still isn't sure how to react when she sees tributes before the games.

"Oh okay..." Heejun starts, leaving, while Elise follows. "You looked like a ghost through this light, Elise," he tells her jokingly while they leave.

Phillip takes one last look at Heejun, amused at the guy. He’s glad to have met such a happy guy. If he could pick someone to be his ally, it would be Heejun.

He notices Elise take one look at him before she leaves with Heejun. There’s an itch at the back of his head when he stares back at her and their eyes meet. He feels like falling, collapsing. Whatever that means, he feels defeated.

Elise might just be Phillip’s ultimate downfall.

(note: Silly readers, the kissing will be in the last district I'll post. I'm sorry for the very little amount of Phelise interaction, at least there's angst, right? Oh, and I am sorry for the undesired het.)

(review)

[theaigames]

Okay, so I know the last two sucked because it was more of a text manip than a fanfic, but the next one is going to be great, okay? :)　

[theaigames]

Hunger Games Extra! Interview

(note: Well, okay. This isn't that much of a fanfic either. But don't you enjoy their mild banter? No. I know Jimmy is sort of kind here but that's because he's also being watched and judged. Anyway, my next post will be a proper fanfic again! And it's going to be long.)

[theaigames]

Welcome to Hunger Games Extra! Where we give Panem extra information about this year's tributes Today we discuss: THE OPENING PARADE. Feat. Tommy Hilfiger's insight about the tributes' style! This year’s Opening Parade set the newest record for the largest crowd in Panem: 569,275 people out on the streets of Capitol to watch the parade!

Hosts for tonight's event: Ryan Seacrest: "He looked like a pale bumblejay. When will he realize yellow doesn't symbolize happiness anymore? As far as I know, it makes me nauseous." – TH Jordin Sparks: "She looked as hot as the night! What's missing was smoke coming out of her head! It was lovely, really. It matched the night and the embroidered jewel on her cheek." - TH

District 1: Jessica Sanchez: "She looked so cute with all the colorful stones circling her shoulders, I love how they symbolized luxury with simplicity. I felt uncomfortable watching her head balance that white wig though. But I just love her and the way she moved, she looks so humble and dreamy." – TH Deandre Brackensick: "He needs to smile more! He's lucky the girls in the audience appreciated him. Who couldn't like him when he was wearing that jewel-studded coat though? The collar enhanced his bone-structure well. I have to say I was surprised to find out his hair was natural. Then again, I'm a style-icon in the Capitol. *laughs*" - TH

District 2: Allison Iraheta: "The harsh look seemed to stay with their style tonight. I like the spikes on her hair. The shade of red in her suit complimented the shaping of her waist. What shade was it? Brick red, of course." – TH Joshua Ledet: "I had to hold back tears. Any structure would look dull and depressing in the color of cement! I guess how they wanted to embody masonry, but that was bad! Cement and Brick? Why can’t they just let the both of them wear bricks?" - TH

District 3: Haley Reinhart: "Curly hairs seem to be in this year. I guess the black dress was cute, but the conductor-like scarves looked like red, blue, and green snakes choking her." – TH Eben Franckowitz: "Someone please explain to me why he was frowning? Anyway, I liked the conductor-like bandana, but everything else looks bland. There's too much black. I need colors!" - TH

District 4: Erika Van Pelt: "I love-love-loved the sea green dress. The shells on her head complimented her sand-like hair. Oh, and tell me where did she get that giant fish ring!" – TH Jason Castro: "The ladies seemed to enjoy his presence. Didn't they notice he was only wearing a vest on top? The vest was a hideous seaweed green. I think the bubbling hat was adorable, and by adorable I mean pathetic. The effects made him look like he was melting." - TH

District 5: Baylie Brown: "I wish I could her face behind the helmet. Costume-wise, it was the best yet! Is the electricity on their head real though?" – TH Stefano Langone: "Well, they're almost wearing the same thing, aren't they?" - TH

District 6: Lauren Alaina: "Well, this is very... interesting. The train rail seems to embrace her puffy skirt. Still, I do not get why her hair looked so frizzy." – TH Scotty McCreery: "No one really notices him when he's near that kind of skirt, right? Anyway, he looked like the girl's personal driver. I do like the red and yellow combination though. May I add I liked the way they held hands? It was touching how strong they symbolize the bond between District 6 and the others? It shows true cooperation and transportmanship. *laughs*" - TH

District 7: Phillip Phillips: "Well the crowd seemed to be enjoying the brown loincloth. I don't see why since he's wearing gray underneath--ugh, I hate that color. The only thing I liked or could stand was the leaves on his hair." – TH Brielle Von Hugel: "You see, she's my bet. I'll try not to be biased. At least she wore something better than her sister's costume last year. I liked how they highlighted her hair green. It seemed to be bursting everywhere, emphasizing the leaves. Her brown coat was to die for! Except I didn't understand how her costume's supposed to mix with the guy." - TH

District 8: Elise Testone: "Can someone explain to me why she's wearing a blue veil? Is she getting married today? *sarcastic* I'm sure her coat wasn't just from a colorful blanket." – TH Heejun Han: "Again, the veil is irrelevant and sad. So is the colorful blanket with holes. I laughed when he looked like he was about to doze off to sleep. This guy’s hilarious!" - TH

District 9: Shannon Magrane: "She looked so happy! But I didn't like the gold drapes though. However, the braid on her was elegantly detailed! It reminded me of grains!" - TH Casey Abrams: "I remembered watching him in the Reaping. I enjoyed his enthusiasm; it seemed tamed down with his drapes though. But again, the braided hair was too die for!" - TH

District 10: Skylar Laine: "Rodeo clothes from District 10 again, I see. I liked this girl's friendly atmosphere. The skirt was a lovely match! And I did enjoy the rope-like scarf." - TH Jermaine Jones: "Wow, he did remind me of Ruben Studdard! People on the audience panicked when they saw him holding a gun! *laughs* That gun, or cane or whatever you call it, was a nice touch. The audience needed to be informed it wasn't real first, ha!" - TH

District 11: Thia Megia: "The sundress was so lovely! I loved the different types of rice on her skirt. The triangular hat was marvelous if it didn’t make them bump each other all the time! *laughs." - TH Jeremy Rosado: "The wheat on his brown shirt was a beautiful touch." - TH

District 12: Hollie Cavanagh: "I would've walked away if I didn't like this year's tributes of District 12, which is an improvement. But they have got to fire their stylist! What is up with the trashy jumpsuit? The flashlights on her head were also poorly made. Plus, the light was plain distracting. If we had black-outs, I would borrow her flashlight! *laugh." - TH Colton Dixon: "What am I supposed to say? He wore the same thing! *laugh. I do wish he smiled. I'm rooting for him as well, to be honest!" - TH

(note: I don't if this counts as a fanfic or fan-text-manips or whatever, I hope you enjoyed it though)

[theaigames]

You're my favorite.

What. I might disappoint you in later's text manip, so I'm sorry in advance.

Oh, and I love you. :)

[theaigames]

Okay. So now that The Train Ride is complete.

Expect The Opening Parade and The Gamemaker's Interview tomorrow (which is sort of useless, but at least there's two).

Then there's the reaction or pre-strategy plans (and kissing) this Friday.

Oh, and it's The Training Center next week. :)

[theaigames]

The Train Ride: Compartment 11 & 12 (Brielle and Carrie)

"Why did you volunteer!?" Kris Allen asks me again the moment the compartment door closes.

The compartment is beautiful. It helps me forget about where we're heading to. It's filled with splashes of orange and yellow, the walls, the furniture, everything. I've never seen anything this classy.

"I told you," I say. "For the honor of my district."

"That's bullshit!" he jeers. I don't like screaming, but the only thing I can do is ignore him.

The truth is, I have no idea why I really volunteered. The scariest thing is I don't regret my decision at all. I see the huge chance that I will die, and it doesn't scare me.

I'm sick of my district, sick of hearing my mom cry herself to sleep every night at the loss of my sister. My sister almost won, she almost improved our lives. We were going to live in the Capitol if it weren't for that stupid mutt that bit her head off!

I can't breathe. I have to sit down. It's a good thing Kris went out. He wouldn’t see me crying.

I sit down next to Phillip.

"So why did you do it?" he asks me without tearing his eyes off the bulb on the ceiling.

He doesn't really care, he just wants to have something to talk about. He wouldn't scold me for being reckless so I tell him.

"I'd do anything to leave that district."

District Seven always made feel sick and trapped. Wood, everywhere I go. The trees felt like wooden cell bars. It's always freezing there; I barely even get to see the sun.

Don't even get me started after last year's games. We went from high hopes; cheering, watching my sister escape or steal food from the other tributes in every opportunity she gets(—I can't believe we even started packing, expecting to move to the Capitol soon—)to seeing those three giant elephant mutts attacking her.

Everywhere I went, reminded me of my sister. My mom who kept on crying didn't help. She said we were robbed. I would ask her if she wanted lunch, she would say bring our conversation back to the Games. I'm not even sure if she was really disappointed about losing a daughter or losing the games.

My volunteering doesn't really help her, does it?

But it helps me... in some way.

He laughs, it's sarcastic. Somehow, it doesn't offend me. He doesn't know I'm crying. He isn't looking at me. I'm thankful he doesn't make me elaborate my answer.

Later, he tells me, "I'll do anything to stay." Whilst chuckling at his own words, he wipes his eye.

I ask "Why?"

"I can't leave her," he croaks. "I can't just leave my life. Dead or alive, I want to go back."

I nod. I don't fully understand what he means by dead or alive, especially when he chuckled at the word dead.

The rules state that the victor would do a quick Victory Tour around Panem. After, the victor and his family would have to move to the Capitol. The only time he would be allowed to visit a district—usually the district he was born in—is when he would be elected escort and mentor.

Everyone's obliged to memorize the rules. I guess I'm the only one who knows it by heart.

He seems to have an idea though, because he utters, "I would've married her, you know."

We're different, Phillip and I. But we both want to win.

Phillip buries his face around his arms.

No one says anything for a while.

I try the strawberry truffles for awhile. Later, nothing's left on the plate.

Phillip untangles his head from his arms to check if there are any truffles left.

"Sorry," I say before finishing the last one.

He laughs before he touches my head. "Good luck, kid," he tells me.

"You too," I say.

I don't mean it. I'm sure he doesn't mean it too. The only luck we really wish for is for ourselves.

-

We laugh while we talk. I'm glad I picked District Eight. I have a good set of tributes this year.

The girl seems quiet and intimidating at first, but there's something about her actions that shows courage and kindness. Volunteering in place of that poor girl helped.

Then there's Heejun who's sweet and hilarious, the Capitol would enjoy him. I think he would have most of the sponsors. Plus, his touching bond with the kids on his district would make the Capitol want to keep an eye on him. Even with his soft exterior, there's intelligence waiting to be used inside of him.

Yes, I'm sure the new victor would finally be in District Eight.

It's not like I have forgotten where I came from. District Two will always be my roots; I just don’twant to go back.

The mentoring there is hard, even before Simon who doesn't want to be replaced anytime soon.

And the people there today seem to be even more brutal. I guess the training education has helped their views differ as well. I couldn't live up to their expectations. I'm probably too soft for them or the people I would mentor there.

Even if I was never the underdog, I root for District Eight.

People in District Eight feel so warm and different. I've never heard the games viewed as sad and terrifying in this sort of perspective. They're hanging on to their life, and the district understands that. They do not view the tributes as selfish, ungrateful, or weak when they get picked and cry.

I hear Heejun ask, "Do I get a facelift before I enter the games?"

Elise and I burst into laughter. I shake my head.

"Dammit," Elise jokes.

We've been talking about utter nonsense the moment we got in the compartment. We still insert bits of strategies and plans though.

I think it’s better that they erase their worries for a while.

Heejun tells stories about his Big Brother Group, while Elise discuss about her job in the textile factory.

I think both of them could form an alliance. Since they're not from District 1 or 2, I feel it's not my right to discuss it.

I attempt to bring it up.

But there's a sudden loud thud out our compartment door.

I rush toward the door.

When I open it, I'm not really surprised to see Kris Allen, hands behind and tied by the peacekeepers.

"Hi Carrie!" Kris casually greets, as if he hasn't been caught spying.

I shut the door close.

For the past three years, Kris Allen has been snooping around to find out about my plans for my tributes.

It's odd. I don't mean to sound humble or anything, but he's wasting his time; it's not like any of the tributes I've chosen have gotten far in the arena.

"Ms. Underwood?" I hear Heejun call. That kid's so likeable. "Who was that?" he asks.

"Kris Allen," I say.

"I've heard about him," Elise adds. "He's not a very good mentor; I've noticed his tributes use the same strategy every year."

"Oh? I haven't noticed that," I say. "What's there strategy?"

"All of them seem to hunt before dawn."

Now that she mentions it, it's true. District 7 Tributes seem to kill two or three people in the arena, which is a pretty decent number of kill if the people weren't killed during their sleep. Their downfall's when there's eight or less left and there's a sudden outburst of mutts. They're the first to find out; sometimes they get tricked to the mutts, sometimes they get to lead the mutts toward the other tributes.

Elise is very smart and observant; I hope she's a good hunter as well.

"Hunt for them when it's noon and expect for them when it's midnight," I say. It's good to feel paranoid in the games. Something tells me I need to ask for caffeine from sponsors.

Another observation comes to mind: District Seven seems to target my tributes every year. I don’t know why, but it would be better to avoid it this year than to find out why.

(note: I'm sorry if there's no Phelise. There will be the smallest hint next time, I promise.)

(review)

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this is the best AU. Thank you so much for writing this it's AMAZING

I love you.

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The Train Ride: Compartment 9 & 10 (Baylie and Jeremy)

His smile is really creepy, and so is his voice. "What?"

"Aren't you supposed to help us?" Stefano asks him.

He turns to me, and I can feel the hair on my arms stand.

"You're pretty," he says. "Use that."

I didn't understand that. "What do you mean?"

"Capitol men would adore you, they wouldn't let you die. Wear less clothing, you would get sponsors like that--" He snaps his finger.

I swear I could slap him.

Stefano calls me to eat with him. I follow, because I don’t want to sit near Taylor on the couch.

"What are you doing?" Stefano asks me.

"I'm trying to get help, okay?" I don't know why I'm screaming at him. But my voice is trembling, and I feel so helpless that I cry while I take a bite of cheese buns.

"Hey!" Taylor shouts from the sofa he occupied. "I forgot to tell you about the sadistic audience. They would like you and root for you, but they would also enjoy seeing you suffer." His laugh is like a bark.

I feel like I'm suffocating when I feel his presence.

I try to relax when Taylor leaves to go to the bathroom. But I don't, I share everything with my fellow tribute. "He's the sadist! I can't stand this, Stefano. Can't we try to escape? I can't kill anyone! I would never--" I keep on talking. Any minute now, I feel like water's going to burst out of me.

He just nods and nods.

I keep on talking. "I feel like he wants us to die. I feel like he's selling us out. How is he still a mentor? He's horrible. He whispered I'm going to be ruined. What does that mean? What does that mean!?"

I cover my face with my hands. He tries to pat my shoulder, but that isn't helping.

"It's okay. It's okay..." he says. He’s lying.

"It's not." I keep shaking my head. "I wouldn't--I couldn't kill anyone." The moment I say that, I'm sure my tribute is marking me as weak.

I don't know what makes him promise to protect me. I don't know what makes him promise to be the one to kill everyone else.

I guess that makes us allies.

His promise is big. I have to look at him closely to tell if he isn't lying. But I can never really read people's eyes.

"I can catch birds with my bare hands," I say to stop myself from feeling like a burden. "Maybe that would help?"

He laughs. He acts impressed, maybe it's even genuine. "Yeah, it would. Um..." He looks down. "I'm not really a good runner."

"I'll pull you through," I add, calmer than before.

Bit by bit, we learn what we could benefit from each other. I'm still uncertain if we're really going to team up in the actual games, but the hope is comforting. It's like we're mentoring each other.

From strategy to the games to how we present ourselves in the Capitol; I couldn't imagine a better mentor than Stefano.

I hear a scream in the bathroom. Even if we hate Taylor, we run toward the door.

A boy looks at us with sudden panic. "He didn't lock the door!" he says to his defense.

"Didn't you hear the water, man?" Taylor bursts out, and I swear, I can see Stefano's fist tighten.

"Sorry," the kid says. I feel bad for him. He sounds genuinely sorry and scared.

Taylor doesn't even acknowledge that we're in the hallway, pushing us out of the way. I hear him mutter something about 'idiotic farmers' before he goes back to our compartment.

We follow him—well, the peacekeepers push us back to our compartment.

"Never engage yourselves with stupid farm folks," is Taylor's welcoming rant. "Don't be allies with them, okay?"

"Don't tell us what to do," Stefano utters.

"What was that!?" Taylor yells. "I thought you needed my help?"

"You're too busy being drunk all the time."

"What was that!?" He throws a muffin toward the window.

He's scaring me. I don't answer.

-

I hear crying in the other compartment. I try to ignore it, since a peacekeeper's guarding the door.

"Excuse me, sir," I start. "Could you check the noise?"

The peacekeeper doesn't reply. I was never really sure if they were human.

They totally ignore the sound of someone’s scream.

"But someone might be hurt."

I try to peep, but they point a gun at me. "You wouldn't want to test us, would you?" he finally says.

I shake my head, backing my way, raising both my hands.

I head back to Compartment Ten.

"What took you so long, yo?" Randy asks me when I get back.

"We were talking about strategies," Thia informs me.

"It has to be communication with the mockingjays," I suggest.

Thia smiles. "Yeah."

"Who's in the other compartment?" I ask. I can’t seem to take the cruelty off my mind.

"There are other people here?" Thia asks back. Both of us thought we were alone.

Randy frowns. "Yeah, we share restrooms with District Five, unfortunately."

I remember seeing the mentor of District Five on television. Even in our district, we talk about how cruel he seems to be. My mom said he wasn't like that during the interview before the games. He's the perfect example of what fame could do to someone.

He’s scarier in person.

"He's pretty harsh, Hicks," explains Randy. "Don’t worry. He gets decent later."

"He's screaming at the tributes!" I complain. I think he even insulted me.

"Don't be too concerned, dawg. Let him do what he does. It doesn't really affect you, yo," Randy replies. "Just be glad you have me as a mentor, okay? I'm Randy Jackson, yo."

It sort of cracks me up every time our mentor's trying to act cocky. I know this is far from fun and games. But I'm glad we feel relaxed for a bit. He makes it feel like it's a game for a while.

I can't imagine being taunted by Simon or Taylor or any other mentor. I mean, we haven't really seen the way they train their tributes, but cruelty was always the speculation. I think the screaming proves it.

I think about helping the tributes in District Five.

We don't say anything when Randy suddenly blurts, "No, Jeremy, you cannot make everybody your allies." Somehow, he read my mind.

All of us burst into laughter.

It's funny because I was sort of thinking I could.

(note: I like Taylor! This shouldn't reflect what I think of Taylor, so if you're mad at Taylor or at me... I'm sorry. On the side-note, think of what Randy said about him, okay?)

(review)

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Ahhhhhh I love how you're writing Colton. And Hollie, for that matter. Both are so realistic :D

Omg ssdfnksdfksadfk compliments. Thank you, blessed anon! :)