CINNA HAD BEEN RIGHT WHEN HE SAID IT WAS A GOOD YEAR FOR THE OUTFITS THAT TWELVE GOT PUT IN. Instead of the usual theme of coal miners, this year Marcel; a middle aged man with tan skin who had chosen to lose his hair and now had a gold tattoo that wrapped around his ear, had really put some thought into what he would be putting Sage in. If Sage were being honest, as the man spoke to him, explaining his outfit while the others got him ready; he couldn't help but think of Marcel as pretentious. At least a bit. Just in the way he spoke, and how he would repeat some things as if Sage wasn't competent enough to understand.

This year, the outfits were a statement to say the least. As Marcel put it, it was a loud statement for a loud looking pair. Apparently, during the reaping, Deedee had won hearts over because she resembled a Capitol girl who had passed away. Apparently she had been of some importance; and Octavia said said that Sage had turned out to be a stand out hit from the reaping among the younger crowd in the Capitol. She sounded like she was complimenting him, but he didn't really take it that way. So what? They would talk about him as that tribute from Twelve next year?

Marcel had been right about the outfit; Sage was just happy he would at least be clothed. It was mainly made up of a black material, it wasn't soft— it was stiff. And his sleeves were short, and where they ended there was a bit of soot-looking makeup. Then on both wrists were probably the loudest bit of the outfit, silver cuffs and a chain that connected the two, but still gave enough room for him to move his arms relatively freely. Marcel said they were meant to connect them to the harsh conditions in the mines— but Sage had a gut feeling it would say something else to the districts. That they were just slaves to the Capitol, like the avoxes on the train, just with their tongues still.

"Now, remember, no smiling, waving...nothing like that." Marcel told him, "You're just here because you have to be. Like you have to work in the mines. You don't want to be here."

"Trust me, that won't be hard to do." Sage welcomed the opportunity to not smile, to not act like he wanted everyone to like him. Because he didn't like any of them— how could he? Sure they might cheer for him now, but they'd cheer when he died too...

"Well, if I do say so myself, I out did myself." Marcel said with heavy sigh as he put an arm around Sage's shoulders as he escorted Sage to the chariots.

The chariot they approached was decorated with black jewels that each much have been worth thousands. Each of them resembled a piece of coal, Sage assumed that was the point. Already beside the chariot was Deedee and Haymitch— Deedee wore a black dress, with identical cuffs on her wrists. Her hair was pulled back into a messy and loose braid, it resembled Katniss' feeble attempts at braiding Prim's hair when their mother was busy. Of course their mother would rush to redo it, and Katniss would act offended— but she had confessed to Sage once that she hated braiding Prim's hair because she would move. So she didn't try very hard.

"Well don't you look nice," Haymitch said, he himself was cleaned up fairly well too. "do you already know how important this is?" he asked, arching an eyebrow. Glancing at Dedee and then looking up at Sage.

"It's a chance to make a good impression." Dedee answered, "On any future sponsors."

Haymitch smirked and gave a small nod, "Very good," he replied, "think you'll be able to turn on that act like you did when you got off the train—"

"No, no, no," Marcel interrupted quickly, holding his hand out to Haymitch to silence him. Marcel's face was twisted with disgust at Haymitch's request which caught Haymitch off guard. The look shared between the two men was something that Sage couldn't help but snicker at, and when he looked down at Dedee, he saw an amused smirk on her face as well.

Haymitch furrowed his eyebrows, "I don't remember you having such an opinion, Marcel." he replied, his tone was beyond irritated at Marcel's interruption.

Marcel sighed heavily and then reached for Sage's hand and lifted it, as if to show Haymitch the cuffs and chains. "Smiling and waving will do nothing but ruin this illusion, Haymitch." he explained, "It just won't work, they must act as if they don't want to be here."

Haymitch stared at Marcel for a moment and then looked over Sage and Dedee. "I guess I don't remember you putting in much thought to the look for District Twelve. This barely resembles any of the looks for the last few years, Marcel." Haymitch pointed out.

Marcel put a hand to his chest in a offended manner, "Are you saying that I don't have it in me to create something like this?"

"You said it, not me." Haymitch shrugged, "Now could you excuse us? I need to speak with my tributes."

Haymitch stepped between Sage and Marcel, hoping the stylist would catch the hint that Haymitch wanted him to leave. Sure enough, Marcel heard it loud and clear, he gave Sage a pat on the shoulder and wished him luck before he turned to leave finally leaving Sage with just Haymitch and Dedee.

"I didn't want to say it in front of him, he'd never let me forget it if I complimented his creation," Haymitch huffed out, "he's right, it's a good take on Twelve and it will make you stand out."

"Do you not want us to wave or anything?" Dedee asked, crossing her arms across her chest. "You just told me that's what you wanted."

"Well, plan's change." he said swiftly, avoiding having to admit that Marcel had been right.

"Did Twelve get a new stylist this year?"

Haymitch turned around, Sage did the same. Approaching them was a young pair, maybe the same age as Sage or a bit younger. One of which Sage recognized right away, his sun bleached blonde hair and smile gave it away— the Victor of the sixty-fifth Hunger Games, Finnick Odair. Beside him was a girl, younger than Sage, maybe fifteen— give or take. She had dark brown hair that loosely fell over her shoulders and had gold threads woven into her hair and a blue gown on with a gold piece over it that had seashells all over it.

Haymitch sighed heavily, "Seems like it, doesn't it?" he replied. "Sage, Dedee— meet Finnick Odair."

Finnick looked down at Dedee and offered her a smile before looking at Sage, "Pleasure is mine," he said with a sigh, "this is Marena Marsh."

Sage felt his stomach drop for a moment, Marsh wasn't a name that he would have forgotten already. Kai Marsh had only just won the Hunger Games last year. Sage couldn't imagine what Kai was thinking when her own sister was chosen for the games.

"We'll see you around," Finnick said as other tributes began to board their chariots.

"Kai Marshs' sister is this years tribute for Four?" Dedee asked, "Why isn't Kai her mentor?"

"Family can't mentor family," Haymitch replied simply, looking over his shoulder as Finnick and Marena walked away.

In a weird way, Sage felt guilty for promising that he'd win. His family hadn't lost anyone to the games— the Marsh family almost lost Kai, and now they could lose Marena? The odds of her winning were next to none, the only other time siblings had won back to back games was the sixty-third and fourth games when Gloss and Cashmere won. Being the first set of siblings to ever both win, it was possible for Marena to win too, but it wasn't likely...

That night, after the parade Sage and Dedee joined Haymitch and Effie in the apartment that District Twelve got. It was the penthouse apartment, just before the roof— which Effie said they had set up with a beautiful rose garden this year. Dinner was held a bit later than usual, at least that was something that Effie claimed again. While they ate, Effie expressed her joy with the outfits that had been prepared for District Twelve this year and her likes and dislikes about the other districts, really only getting responses from Dedee who seemed to just be humoring the woman. While they ate, although Sage half heartedly paid attention to Effie's rambling— his mind was on Katniss and Prim, had they watched the parade? What were they thinking as President Snow wished them all luck as the games began?

  After Sage ate a fair share of the food that was served he didn't hesitate to go right to his room— and within moments of his head hitting the pillow, he actually fell asleep. Unlike the train ride there, the room was practically sound proof— if Haymitch or anyone was talking outside the room, he didn't hear it. So instead, he was actually able to sleep. But it wasn't a peaceful night of rest. He dreamed of District Twelve— more specifically about the incident in the woods. Sage saw Katniss standing there, looking up at the Capitol ship and Sage just couldn't get to her. No matter what he did, he couldn't get to her. The entire night— that was all he could see. And it showed when he woke up, he could tell that he had been tossing and turning because he felt more exhausted than he had when he crashed into the bed.

"Sage,"

The tribute groaned as he pushed himself out of the bed and across the room towards the door. Before opening the door, he leaned against it. As soon as he opened it, the day would begin and he would be thrust into another day of activities that would feed into the Hunger Games. For years, he always questioned why tributes didn't just refuse to participate— but now, being there and in the middle of it all— he saw that it wasn't a option. The only way he would get back to Twelve would be winning the games.

"Sage?" Marcel's voice spoke from the other side of the door again, and this time Sage took a step back and pulled open the door. Before him stood Marcel with clothes in his hands, and a pair of black tennis shoes on top. Marcel held them out towards him, "Here is your training attire for your first day of training, please get ready quickly." he urged him as Sage took the clothes from his hands.

"Alright," Sage said quite simply as Marcel then turned to go back to the commons area.

Sage shut his bedroom door and tossed the clothes on the bed and began to strip off his pajamas to begin getting ready for training. The clothes were simple, comfortable even. Something he may have even worn in Twelve. The material on the pants was light, and they were black with a white and gray stripe down the side of them. Then there was a white t-shirt that had the number twelve in black lettering, to finish the look were the shoes and a gray zip-up hoodie that had a the number Twelve in black lettering on the hood and the sleeves. Once he had the clothes pulled on, he then left the safety of his room only to be met with the same smells from their breakfast on the train. At the table was Dedee and Haymitch, so the apartment was actually quiet compared to the previous night without Effie.

"Where'd Marcel go? And Effie?" Sage asked as he sat down.

"Effie is having breakfast with the other escorts, and Marcel went to meet with Portia, Dedee's stylist to plan for your interviews." Haymitch replied simply as he continued eating his breakfast and Sage began to dish up his own.

"Did you sleep ok?" Dedee asked from across the table, and Sage looked up at her for a moment. They hadn't really spoken, at all. At least not because they engaged one another.

Sage nodded, "Better than the night before," he answered, "how about you?"

Dedee let out a sigh, one that almost seemed relieved that he replied. "Pretty good," she replied, "did you know that you can change the surroundings in the rooms?" she asked.

Sage arched an eyebrow, "Really?"

She nodded, "You can change them to things like the ocean or the forest. It helped me sleep last night."

Haymitch cleared his throat from the seat to the left of Sage. His eyes went from Dedee to Sage, "Instead of talking about your wonderful first nights here in the Capitol." he stated, his tone dripping with sarcasm when he spoke of the Capitol. "Today in training, focus on survival stations. A knife or spear is worthless if you freeze to death."

"What about the other tributes?" Dedee asked.

"Your best bet is to get a feel for them," he replied, "don't go out of your way to talk to anyone. But if you talk to anyone," he said as he turned his head towards Sage, "make sure it's Marena Marsh." he stated.

Sage arched an eyebrow, "Why her?"

"Because everyone is going to be wanting an alliance with her. And the people who sponsored her sister last year will definitely be sponsoring her this year." Haymitch said simply, "Getting a alliance with her will get you much further in the arena."

"But four is a career district." Sage pointed out.

"But her mentor is Finnick Odair," Haymitch reminded him, "he didn't work with any careers during his games, and his tributes since then haven't either, and they've made it far in the games."

"Yeah, that sounds great and all until she decides she doesn't need us anymore." Dedee pointed out that, the attitude in her tone took Haymitch off guard.

He arched a brow, "Well, sweetheart nobody said you had to listen to my advice. It's not like I know the way the game works or have watched how other mentors mentor." he retorted back at her.

Haymitch then looked at Sage, "One more thing, if you have a secret skill, don't use it today. Or tomorrow. Try to save it for the arena."

After breakfast, Haymitch escorted the two of them to the basement of the training center. But once the elevator doors opened, Haymitch couldn't go any further. All he could do was watch as Sage and Dedee stepped out of the elevator and made their way to the doors that would open up to the training stations.

"Do you think he's right?" Dedee asked as they walked down the hall, nearing the doors. "About allying with District Four?"

Sage honestly wasn't sure if he was, "I think we just shouldn't focus on the ally part of this. At least not today."

Dedee hummed in response, and was quiet for a moment. "We're allies though, right?" she asked softly.

Sage's eyes shot down to hers that were staring up at him, "Of course, isn't that a given?"

She shrugged, "You never know, I guess. Last year District Twelve weren't allies in the arena."

Sage shook his head, "I don't think you have to worry about that too much." he stated, "I've got your back in there."

Dedee let out a sigh of relief and her shoulders slumped down and she seemed much more relaxed. At least she was until Sage pushed the door open and revealed the large gymnasium which had a majority of the tributes already gathered in the center. As the two of them stepped into the gymnasium, Sage's eyes began to wander around the room. To the left, the stations seemed to be mostly geared towards survival by the looks of it, in the very center was a round glass room with two different levels and by the door was a control panel. Then to the right as they joined the group of tributes there were some racks of weapons. By each station that was someone in a black shirt and pants— ready to assist them in learning the activities at the station.

"Welcome to the gymnasium, tributes." a voice pulled him away from examining the room and brought his attention to a woman who looked to be about Haymitch's age. "Here, you will have an abundance of training that you will be able to partake in. Each station also has a specialist who will be able to answer your questions and help you without out any bias." she explained simply, "Training will be open at ten in the morning for the next two days after today concludes. Then, on the final day you will each have a chance to show the Gamemakers-" she said as she motioned up to a second floor of the gymnasium where there was a small group of about thirteen onlookers. Each wearing colorful attire. "-the activity you feel you are strongest in. They will be observing on all other days."

"Probably forming opinions already..." a boy muttered from just in front of Sage. Sage glanced at the boy's dark gray hoodie, different from the light gray one that Sage had, and saw the number two in black.

"Please remember that you are not permitted to fight with any of your fellow tributes." the woman continued, "It is also worth noting that there is no requirement of you participating in these stations, but it would be in your best interest. Good luck, tributes."

With that, the woman went to take her place at a station on the right side of the gymnasium and the other tributes began to disperse. However Sage's eyes glanced down at Dedee who was already making her way to the survival side of the gymnasium. Before he did the same, he let his eyes travel back up to the onlookers— a few of them were watching tributes closely but most seemed to be talking just among themselves.

"Rumor is that this year is going to be Reynolds best arena yet."

Sage jumped a bit at the sound of someone's voice right behind him. He turned, only to find Marena Marsh. A hopeful ally practically falling right into his lap, which was something not many tributes from Twelve could say. She wore a light blue hoodie, with the number four on it and her hair was pulled back into a ponytail.

"He's the heavier one, balding, looks like he's already having a glass of wine." she told him.

Sage quickly scanned the Gamemakers, and saw the man she was talking about standing among a few others who were chatting. "How'd you know that?"

"Finnick has sources," she replied with a small shrug, "looks like we've spiked her interest." Marena pointed out, "Tan one, dark hair, and purple lips."

Sage turned and looked back up at them, but only for a brief moment because his eyes met with the exact Gamemaker that Marena was pointing out. Then as Marena and Sage both began to walk towards a station, he glanced back at them and the Gamemaker had turned her attention elsewhere. She was a bit young to be a Gamemaker, at least Sage thought she was.

"So, what do you think of the Capitol?" Marena asked as they approached a station with a short line.

Sage chuckled, "Small talk?" he asked, smirking down at her, "Seems like a great way to make allies." he said in a hushed tone.

Marena arched a brow, "Who said I wanted to be your ally?" she asked in an equally as hushed tone.

"Well, for starters," he paused, "you approached me and came to the same station."

"It could have been a coincidence that we both happened to walk this direction."

Sage chuckled, although he knew it was no coincidence, he wasn't going to push the matter. Haymitch may have been a bit abrupt, a consistent drunk, and rude but he had a point. He knew the game, and he knew the other mentors and how they worked.

And if making a early alliance with Marena Marsh gave him a better chance at going home to Twelve to Katniss and Prim— then so be it.

*edited*