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Kit Rowe. District Twelve.
You were hot for five seconds before we learned that you write poetry. Now we don’t know what to do with you. Do you, by any chance, have a twin brother who sounds much more fun and whom we will meet at your funeral? That’s right, we know everything. Maybe if you weren’t such a bummer, Kitty, your better half wouldn’t have left you, have you considered that? Another Rowe to the table, please!
Rosemary Bee. District Eleven.
This Bee has us buzzing, we have to admit; not only is she cute, she’s also mysterious — and she comes as a package deal. It seems the ground isn’t the only fertile thing in Eleven, and we do love babies. I have to admit that the Tower has seemed a little full of them lately, but I can get over myself.
Harrow Pitt. District Eleven.
Did anyone actually see this one, or did he just forget his head in the clouds? We’re wondering if he’ll walk into the Arena or if he’ll accidentally walk in the other direction. Don’t pull a Jeannie, Pitt -- it’s unlikely Lysander’s pride can take two escapees. No, we’re actually fans. Put the ‘wanted: dead or alive’ sticker on him.
Barric Paine. District Nine.
We know tributes always come with skeletons they’ve shoved in their closet, but this guy’s skeleton is a doozy, and it’s actually not been in his closet but Abel Evans’s. If I had a minute alone with Barric I’d ask him to share the more lurid details about the Evans mansion, but alas, I’m not sure my moment will ever come, as this killer seems to have put his killing days behind him. Oh, well.
Lavender Hardsnow. District Nine.
Oh, Lavender, if only we could actually have the ones we enjoy for victors... Unfortunately, we know you’re a goner, because the cool ones always have to die first, so we’re not going to get too attached. Not to mention that Abel Evans would actually have to be good at his job to get you back home. Hardsnow? More like a hard no from us. Next life, kid.
Arachne Hagan. District Eight.
It’s confirmed: everybody in District Eight suffers from mommy issues. We don’t know whether to feel sorry for this one, or just relieved that we don’t have to memorize any more frustratingly complex backstories. If anything, Arachne should be grateful she was Reaped – the only interesting thing going on for the poor girl. It remains to be seen if this spider has any actual poison in her, or if she’s bound to get caught in her own webs.
Wren Challis. District Eight.
A round of applause for the target of every ‘your mom’ joke in District Eight. Wren, love, we’re happy to see you extended the business all the way to the Capitol, seeing as we were already oh, so short on angsty, rebellious charity cases with a temper. We’ll give you that: you’re fun and feisty, and you’ll only get more entertaining as you go off and die. Let’s see if the blood matches the drapes.
Aspen Sawyer. District Seven.
Aspen, we’ll be honest with you, you’re no Lumba Jacques. You have to actually work to get some support. The only actual chance you have at winning this is to stab your girlfriend in the bloodbath and make an impression, because else, you’re just another boring child who needs to make it back to her family and no one will help. You were on the right track with the blood oath, but push that knife deeper. Don’t be lame. We’re counting on you, little one.
