#cgtrain100

[ceres-brewer]

It hadn’t taken long for Ceres to find the food cart. Since she’d only really had her parents and her fiance to visit her at the Justice Building she was itching for some company that wasn’t from The Capitol and she always thought that food brought people together, surely there would be someone there.

The smells hit her as soon as the door slid open and her eyes began to take in the feast that was cooking before her, a grand buffet of things she’d never seen before from all of the different Districts. Of course if James were here he would’ve scoffed and critisized about how it was all too grand, that it was a waste.

But James isn’t here. She reminded herself, allowing an giggle to escape her lips. She was allowing herself thoughts and feelings that she hadn’t in the 6 years that she’d been betrothed to the man and now she was here. She was still wearing the ring though, she couldn’t quite get rid of that yet.

Ceres pushed the thought away as an Avox offered her a plate and she began to leisurely take in the tables around her filled with more food than she’d ever seen outside of work, and she could help herself to whatever she wanted!!

Her plate was piled high in minutes with meat and cheese, fish and bread and she’d even taken 3 different deserts in small ramekins too. Ceres chuckled again and felt her heart lighten even as she sat alone for the moment. She was free.

The pressure in the room changed as the door to the carriage slid open from the opposite end that Ceres had entered from, The girl from District 9 looked up, a small piece of bread in her hand and a wide smile on her face.

“Hi Darlin’“ She smiled, “Fancy joinin’?”

[fortwest]

There was an audible smack as Fort knocked his head on the doorframe on his way into the catering cart. He breathed in through his teeth and rubbed the red patch on his forehead. Smooth, Fort, real smooth. He had sobered up when they called his name, but he hadn’t spent any time sober since. The alcohol supply in his room had dried up, though, and his stomach had rumbled at him until he was forced to teeter from his bed in search of food.

Still rubbing his head he straightened up and looked around the room, blinking slowly. He was loosely aware of the presence of another tribute in the carriage, dropped his hand from his forehead and moved very carefully over to one of the long tables groaning under the weight of cakes and pastries, doing what he thought was a very good impression of a sober person. He piled a plate high with the little latticed ones made with apple and plonked himself down on one of the plush loveseats further into the carriage.

Looking up, he realized he’d sat right next to the other tribute.

“Hey!” He smiled, a small piece of apple dropping down his front which he hastily tried to recover. “You’re Fort, what’s my name?” He paused a moment. “Wait. That wasn’t right.” A look of drunken consternation crept across his face. “No, I’m Fort. What’s your name?”

[elleryandesine]

Getting on at District 2, Ellery was one of the last tributes to board the train. He was still groggy from Reaping Day-- the bed in the Justice Building had provided little sleep, and there was no amount of morphling that could calm Ellery’s nerves. Suffice it to say, it was going to take a while for Ellery to recover. The dark circles under his eyes proved as much. 

Climbing up the stairs into the train car, Ellery found himself surrounded by tributes. Ugh. Conversation was the last thing he needed right now. Still, appearances were everything-- if he didn’t make a good first impression, he was as good as dead. Besides, Ellery had always possessed a certain dry charm. He glanced at the other tributes and steeled himself, wondering what he could possibly say to mask his confusion and fatigue. He had to play it cool.

“Hey,” he said to the group. “Is it just me, or is it hot in this car? For the love of Panem, open a window or something.”

[poppy-fitch]

Poppy sat quietly in a chair near the window. She leaned her head against the side of it, even as the train bumped her head around painfully. She was trying to see as much as she could. Trees whipped past them in a furious whirl of green and browns that almost made her want to get her notebook out. She could write a poem or… document her experience for posterity or something. In case she ended up rotting beneath a tree by the end of the Games. If they even had trees this time. Poppy hoped so. She was becoming quite fond of them. There weren’t enough trees in Five.

Now she was thinking too hard about the Games, and getting a headache, and she needed a drink. Poppy stood from the cushy, red-and-black chair and turned around, realizing in doing so that she was not alone. She squeaked in surprise and then internally scolded herself.

This is a death game. People are making their impressions of you every second. And you’re squeaking like a mouse? Maybe she could still save this and make a better impression on the tribute in front of her. Maybe she should play up an underdog angle. Is that the story the Capitol wanted when they had voted for her? Poppy was still trying very hard to figure that out.

“I’m sorry. Am I in your seat?” There were hundreds of seats for only twenty-four tributes. Poppy remembered that she was supposed to be being tough. “If so, you can just… deal with it.”

[lyrasilverspring]

After a thorough investigation of the train, Lyra had found a relatively small carriage with a beautiful skylight that revealed the night’s stars. Deciding to set up shop for her night’s vigil, she calmly collected arrangements from the neighbouring carriages, bringing their fading lives into the space. She hadn’t managed to find uncut plants, which was... upsetting, but there was nothing she could do, so she continued.

She’d also managed to source some oil from the food cart after trying a few avoxes. It wasn’t quite what she’d used at home, but close enough that it should serve the purpose. She calmly redistributed the flowers, balancing the energies to create a stronger circle. Then, she slicked her hands with the oil and began to run them through her hair, waiting till each strand was coated before sectioning it out. As she twisted her hair into tight braids she thought of the trees, the people, the district she’d left behind. She thought about the path, the energy moving through her that would guide her even in her elders’ absence, that even when she no longer walked the path, the next Woodmaiden would. Her last braid, she gave to the tributes she’d met that day, and all that they had left behind, and all that they had yet to face. It seemed appropriate since one of them had, at this point, been watching her for some time.

“Good evening,” she offered to the silent figure behind her, not turning to face them.

[ceres-brewer]

The catering car had become too much of a hotbed of other tributes for Ceres and without the whispering voice in her ear telling her how to act she suddenly felt awkward. It took her a moment to excuse herself and to thank the Avox for their service before she finally escaped, traipsing through the carriages as they were lined out.

After passing through each of the cars assigned to The Districts using the corridor that ran aside them, Ceres found herself in the entertainment suite. The TV was already playing re-runs of games gone by but she decided to ignore them, instead trying to find herself a set of darts for the board that was pinned against the wall.

“Where are they?” She hissed to herself, looking through the bookshelves, across the coffee table and anywhere else that they might have them. “Where are they?” She repeated, pushing away a lock of hair that had fallen onto her face.

Finally, Ceres found what she was looking for, 6 darts, 3 with bright red flys and 3 with black. She slid the 3 red from the packet and held them up to the light to examine just how sharp they were. A dark thought pressed in the corner of her mind. What if she went on a rampage with the darts gripped in her hand, what if she killed everyone on the train one by one, what if she could take out the Peacekeepers before they could take her out. 

The thought ebbed as quickly as it had formed and she took her place opposite the board, deciding to play a game of around the clock. She threw the first dart, missing the board completely and hitting the wood on the outskirts of the board. It had been years since she’d thrown a dart and she was rusty.

Before she could let another dart fly the carriage became a little more crowded as another tribute found her. I’ll never get a moments peace. She thought to herself.

“Hi.” She smiled brightly, a little too brightly. She held up the remaining to darts to display them to the other tribute. “Wanna play?”