Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/7154762.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Graphic_Depictions_Of_Violence, Major_Character_Death, Underage
  Category:
      F/M
  Fandom:
      Miraculous_Ladybug
  Relationship:
      Adrien_Agreste/Marinette_Dupain-Cheng, Adrien_Agreste/Ladybug, Chat_Noir/
      Ladybug, Chat_Noir/Marinette_Dupain-Cheng, Alya_Césaire/Nino, Plagg/
      Tikki, Past_Adrien_Agreste/Marinette_Dupain-Cheng, Past_Marinette_Dupain-
      Cheng/Nathanael, eventual_smut_-_Relationship, heavy_build_up, slow_burn
      -_Relationship
  Character:
      Adrien_Agreste, Marinette_Dupain-Cheng, Alya_Césaire, Plagg_(Miraculous
      Ladybug), Tikki_(Miraculous_Ladybug), Nathanaël_(Miraculous_Ladybug),
      Nino_(Miraculous_Ladybug), Mylène_Haprèle, Gabriel_Agreste, Nathalie
      Sancoeur, Juleka_Couffaine
  Additional Tags:
      Alternate_Universe_-_Hunger_Games_Setting, Hunger_Games-Typical_Death/
      Violence, Eventual_Smut, Eventual_Relationships, Masturbation, Anxiety,
      Anxiety_Disorder, Social_Anxiety, Separation_Anxiety, Worldbuilding, Sign
      Language
  Stats:
      Published: 2016-06-10 Updated: 2016-08-25 Chapters: 7/? Words: 24589
****** Ready, Aim, Fire ******
by Cap2theDark
Summary
     The summer marked the beginning of the first ever Quarter Quell.
     And things are getting shaken up in Panem by forces that Marinette
     had no idea about. To make matters worse, a boy she met over three
     years ago, who is suppose to be a Capitol citizen and immune to the
     Reapings, has been chosen as her district partner.
     How the hell is she ever going to make it back home against the odds?
     Nothing seems to be going in her favor.
Notes
     I don't have a beta reader, but if I have any Volunteers, I'll take
     em
***** Reapings, Part 1 *****
                                  Chapter One
 
The first weeks of summer were always a blessing. Winter had lasted for a very
long time this year, and spring was short lived because of it. If District 8
depended on crops for a source of food, there would have been a shortage of
food next coming fall. Her parents were concerned that next year they would
have to use the flour and sugar more sparingly if they wanted to make ends
meet. Being the sweet, compassionate girl she was, Marinette would never let
her parents feel the stress of paying for bills and food if she could help it;
so ever since middle school, she would take four to six hour shifts as a
seamstress, making Peacekeeper uniforms right after school. She also applied
for tesserae, adding her name an additional time each year.
 
She never told her parents she had. She would just add the oil and grain each
month to their food storage for the bakery, and they were never the wiser. With
this year’s reaping, her name would be within that bowl 28 times.
 
Even with her name placed in that many times, Marinette chose to ignore the
number throughout the year and each time she picked up her monthly grain and
oil. Yet, while enjoying the first few weeks of summer, she knew the reaping
was creeping closer and closer. Each day that passed, the daunting number
blared in her head, branded into her mind until the reaping. After the names
were called, and it wasn’t her, she would breath a sigh of relief and pray to
whoever, whatever was listening that at least someone from 8 would come back
home. Her home district wasn’t a very popular win in the Games.
 
That’s what the dark haired seamstress was trying to tell herself now as she
stood in line, waiting to get her finger pricked before she joined the others,
in the 17 year old group. She knew just like every year before, her name hadn’t
been called, and what were the odds it would happen this year as well? They
were certainly higher, but realistically, how much bigger? Two days of reaping
had already gone by, starting with Districts 1, 2, and 3 on the first day,
following the next three on the second, and the 8th was scheduled to start by
noon. Before then, Peacekeepers would sweep the industrial city, making sure
anyone who wasn’t bedridden was standing in the streets nearest the Justice
Building.
 
The cameramen were busy near the stage, adjusting the lighting, and angles,
preparing the ultimate viewing that the Capitol had relished in for the past 24
years and would enjoy for another special 25th anniversary.
 
Marinette’s finger was pricked and she was allowed through the barriers.
Peacekeepers escorted her to the correct 17 year old area. It was towards the
front, the oldest being kept right near the stage. Next year, she would join
them. Yes, next year, she would make it to next year, and that would be the end
of it, no more constant worry for the Games. She made sure to lick the dab of
blood on her fingertip, not wanting to stain her white, white dress. She had
designed it herself when she was 12. It tightened just underneath her breasts,
and flowed down her body, embroidered with a pink flower print design. When she
was 12, the ends of the dress hung well below her ankles, now, they twirled
around her mid thighs with her long, thin legs.
 
The sun blared down, but a gush of wind passed through the center, letting some
sigh in relief that the weather at least was in good favor. The wind whipped
her dress around her legs, and lightly tickled the girl standing beside her.
The blond looked over, eyes on her handmade dress “Hey Marinette. Long time, no
see.”
 
The girl branded with a 28 on her mind looked her way, her hand coming up to
push back some loose black strand of hair “Oh, Melodie! Hey, what are the odds,
huh?”
 
The sudden mention of odds sobered the mood of seeing Melodie after such a long
while. The two still smiled kindly, until Marinette broke the ten second
silence.
 
“It’s been like, what, since middle school? Ever since they split the classes
into four, I haven’t seen you around. Except those shiny blond beacons of hair
now and again.” She teased, poking at the golden tresses bound together in a
braid.
 
Melodie flicked her hair to her other shoulder, away from Marinette’s grasping
fingertips “Stop! You’ll undo the braid. And you would see me more if you ever
slowed down for more than a minute.” The taller dark haired girl could argue
more, but felt the point was mute. Her old blond friend continued “And haven’t
you been wearing that dress since you were 12?”
 
“Well I’ve made alterations to it as I got older.” More 17 year olds flooded
the area they were in, moving the two girls closer together and deeper into the
crowd. When they settled, Marinette continued “Besides, it has gotten me
through 5 reapings so far. I figure, why not go for a lucky number 6?”
 
Melodie nodded, reaching beneath the shirt of her dress and putting out the
charm necklace and laying it flat on her chest “This is my ‘lucky charm’. Kind
of, not really. It’s more of a memorial.” Ten tiny metal charms hung from her
neck “I add two more every year, one to represent each person that goes into
the Games.” The last one she had added on looked like a small bird, a sparrow.
 
And for Marinette, it was like it was yesterday. She hadn’t known the girl from
last year, someone three years her junior, but she remember her crying. Her
name had been in there once: just once. And the boy right after her, holding
her on stage as she cried was named Sparrow. He was once hers and Melodie’s
classmate. The bluenette, reached out and touched the charm “I like it. I can
really remember him like this. It’s very pretty.”
 
The blond smiled softly “Thank you.” She looked to the back of the Square,
looking to see just how many more people needed to file in “I hate the wait,
it’s the worse. Plus, this year is going to be so much different from every
other year.”
 
“Yea, the Quarter Quell. How do you think it’s going to work?” The part time
seamstress asked. Watching the announcement before the first reaping had been
shocking. They had announced the first ever Quarter Quell, with a special twist
to the Games. Marinette had thought it had been a joke, but nothing on Panem TV
was ever a joke. This year, the Games were upping the ante, wanting to
celebrate the 25th anniversary of the defeat of the rebellion. President Andre
Bourgeois had thought it was thrilling to see how far Panem had come in such a
short time, and what a better way to showcase that then having the tributes be
forced not to recognize each other in the Games. She honestly wasn’t sure what
he said meant by that.
 
All he had said was that it was to represent how the rebels could not recognize
that the Capitol was their only true friend and that the Districts could not
rely on each other. President Bourgeois left it at that, explaining to the
audience that the surprise would be revealed once the Games had really begun.
 
Melodie could only shrug “Beats me. I just want to be on this side of the
television screen when we find out.”
 
About to respond, Marinette opened her mouth to speak but the Panem National
Anthem began to blare through the speakers on the stage. Up on stage, the ever
wonderful Alec Cataldi. He was the District 8 Escort for as long as Marinette
could remember. He was a shining example of a perfect Capitol citizen, meant to
make the Capitol feel more immersed into the Games. With his dark skin, shaved
head, and eyelashes long enough to cast shadows on his cheeks, his booming
voice lit up the stage as the Anthem came to a close “Welcome, Welcome young
ones to the 25th Annual Hunger Games. And what an exciting one this time, don’t
you agree?” Alec looked out among the thousands of sullen teens around him.
 
He was greeted with silence as he always was each and every year, but continued
on nonetheless “Now the time has come for us to select the two brave candidates
that will represent District 8 in the first ever Quarter Quell.”
 
Over to the left hand side, where the 16 year old boys stood, one shouted “Like
we have a choice!”
 
Marinette had to look away as the Peacekeepers quickly silenced him with a blow
to the head. He laid on the floor, no one daring to look his way.
 
Alec continued, hardly flicking a long eyelash the boy’s way “And as always,
we’ll have ladies go first.” The man sauntered over to the bowl representing
the girls. It was quite large, a tunnel of wind pumped through it to circulate
the names inside it. There were over 800 names, certainly hundreds more in
repeats, and 28 of them belonged to Marinette.
 
His hand waved through the globe, allowing names to hit his hand in the wind,
but he did not grab out to one just yet.
 
Her heart was in her throat, thudding as she swallowed roughly.
 
She was so parched.
 
She wished she could go home quickly from here.
 
The crowds would be terrible to get through.
 
And the bakery was pretty far from the Square.
 
And she had left her sewing kit on her bed, she really hoped she didn’t lose
another needle.
 
Alec’s had reached out for the name and pulled it away from the globe. He
walked back to where his mike stood, center stage. The mike’s audio reverbing
through the dead silent crowd when he cleared his throat.
 
The girl with the black hair pulled back in pigtails had her nails digging into
the fleshy bits of her palm, and her bottom lip wedge in between her teeth.
 
“Marinette Dupain-Cheng?”




***** Reapings, Part 2 *****
                                  Chapter Two
 
Inside the biggest and busiest fashion studio in the Capitol, televisions were
all set to watch the Reapings as popular actors and models and tv show hosts
were coming in for fittings. Even Penny Rolling, host for the Games was there.
This year around, she was sporting purple hair, cut short and framed her heart
shaped face. In all the years since the Games had begun, Panem had never found
a better star to shine off both the tributes and the Capitol. Her way with
words made her easy to be around, she was one of those people who anyone could
click with. In the past two years, Penny had managed to garner the attention of
sponsors to the most unlikely of contests in the Games during the interview
process simply because the shyer tributes could speak more due to her
encouragement.
 
And currently, the Host was trying to get one of the least spoken models of
Agreste Fashion, son of fashion mogul Gabriel Agreste, Adrien, to give her an
interview. Cameraman posted near her shoulder, Mrs. Rolling almost never seen
without it, and a mic glued to her hand, she nearly stood at Adrien’s
impressive height, with her dauntingly tall heels “Mr. Agreste, come now, it
wouldn’t even have to discuss your family’s business. Panem just wants to get
to know  you , the boy behind the mask of the model.”
 
Vincent, Adrien’s stylist, was crouched at his pant leg, adjusting the length
of a set of white pants that were suppose to match to his father’s clothing
design for the opening ceremony of the Games. The photographer turned stylist
groaned, cutting off the tall, blond model before he could provide yet another
excuse not to be interviewed by the purple haired tv anchor “The only thing the
people of Panem need to know is how exhausted his wardrobe designer, aka me, is
from having to readjust his clothing every other week!”
 
The supermodel had the decency to blush, no doubt the camera toggled over
Penny’s shoulder had captured the flush of his cheeks “I’m sorry Vincent. I’ve
just been growing a few inches over the past few months.”
 
Finished with his work, the overworked stylist leaned back on his haunches,
hands resting on his hips and looking up to the just under six foot tall Adrien
Agreste “Just a few inches??! Bah! Try over six inches in just as many months!”
He stood, dusting off his knees “You’re almost as tall as your father. Why did
your mother have to go give you all these good looks if your father was just
going to throw in his two cents with his height? Oh, mon cheri, I remember when
your head barely reached my neck. Now look, the situation has almost flopped!”
Vincent drew his hand up, showing a line from his head to Adrien’s shaved chin.
 
“The actual growing part of growing up can be really hard.” Penny quipped,
turning her eyes to the blond of the group “Care to share a few comments with
our viewers on the subject?”
 
His hand came up to rub the back of his neck, finding comfort in the short
blond hairs at the nape of his shaved hair “Just that growing pains aren’t the
best. Just goes to show everyone that models have to deal with awkward stages
of life too.” He chuckled lightly, the kind he had to practice to fake a smile
on set. Everyone thought it was convincing enough in pictures, but it was
easier to see in person that he wasn’t born an actor by any means.
 
Penny reached out to his dimpled cheek, pinching it softly “ You  Adrien are
certainly an example of an awkward teen. You’re a sweetheart, but not really
like any of the other models that work for Agreste Fashion. They say you don’t
really have any friends amongst your colleagues. Is that true?”
 
He knew he was getting sucked into the purple talk show host. It was hard not
to. He tried keeping it brief, “It’s hard keeping or making any friends in this
industry. Plus, with my schedule, I hardly have time to breath let alone go to
an afterparty.” There was that chuckle again, well practiced.
 
His life was scheduled from the moment he had been born. Between school,
homework, piano, fencing, Mandarin, modelling, and the basic necessities to
continue living, Adrien’s social life was nearly nonexistent, and even talking
with someone like Penny Rolling, who was kind and could make up most of a
conversation by herself, was hard. He could already feel the swell of anxiety
creeping up acidly from his stomach and coiling around his chest uncomfortably.
 
As luck would have it, or it was more likely Nathalie’s impeccable scheduling,
she and his father stepped into the floor room, eagle like eyes looking for his
son, and it was easy to find that golden hair just about anywhere. Gabriel,
wearing his own brand of clothing, crossed the room, closing the front button
on the suit of his white jacket, trimmed in blue jewels and golden ends.
Quickly, with Vincent’s help, Adrien put on his suit’s jacket, the arm length
just fitted to him less than an hour ago. Gabriel stopped in front of his son.
He tightened his blue tie for the younger man “You’re going to be late.” He
said curtly as he adjusted the tie.
 
His green eyes stayed staring at the bridge of his father’s nose, as he had
been trained for years to do “Sorry father. Vincent said I grew another inch or
so and it needed an adjustment, so I came here.” He gestured to the high heeled
woman he had just been speaking with “And Mrs. Rolling happen to be in picking
up one of the custom made outfits she ordered. We were just chatting.”
 
His father hummed lowly in the back of his throat. He bowed his head slightly
to the Host “ Mademoiselle , a pleasure to see you once more. If you would need
anymore assistance with the clothing you purchased, I’m sure Vincent is more
than capable of extending a hand to help. For now, Adrien and I must be at a
showing in my office for the District 8 Reaping.”
 
The hostess’ eyes got big, filled with excitement “Of course, Monsieur
Gabriel.” The fashion mogul was just about to turn on his heel for the exit,
when Mrs. Rolling’s next words caught him like a hook “But, if I understand
correctly, your wife was the victor of District 8, is that right?”
 
He sighed under his breath “Yes, that was nearly 25 years ago. Why does this
concern you?”
 
The sting from his tone was heard, but it didn’t slow Penny down a bit “Well,
this is a very special year for the Games, and since her disappearance, there
has been a very notable lack of friendly communication between the Capitol and
the Districts. Your wife really was a very great Citizen for the Capitol and
Panem. So, I think in honor of her, taping you two during the viewing and
asking you some questions would open that avenue back up, don’t you agree?”
 
Nathalie was just about to dismiss the idea, when Gabriel held up a hand “I
suppose a taping and a  ten  minute interview would be more than alright. So
long as you personally agree to host the Fall Fashion Show, all seven days of
it.” He held up his hand for the bargain.
 
“You drive a hard bargain, throw in a free boozes pass at the show, and I’m
yours.” She countered, keeping her hands crossed over her chest, mic still
pointedly in one hand.
 
The businessman conceded “You’ll get your pass.”
 
They shook on the deal and Penny followed the Agreste men up to Gabriel’s
office, seated at the top most floor in the building. Adrien hung his head,
knowing Penny would ask some poking questions that he wasn’t prepared to
answer.
 
His mother had been a touchy subject for him ever since her disappearance, and
for any kid, how couldn’t it be? Just what did you say when you were the last
person to see your mother before your house burnt down and then were as never a
sign of her ever being there? The day she disappeared, almost everything that
was a part of her was burned away and if it wasn’t for the digital images left
from her time within the Capitol, there wouldn’t be a trace of her. On his
worse days, he wasn’t sure if it was better that she was missing rather than
dead.
 
Each year, he and his father would sit in his office and watch as the District
8 Reaping would occur. His father never mentioned why they had to watch it, but
the tradition continued every year, ending with his father taking a shot of
something strong and continuing along with their schedules. This year was no
different, with the exception of Penny Rolling sitting beside him and her
cameraman taking the video of them from a kneeling angle, camera propped up on
his shoulder. Adrien kept his eyes trained on the nearly wall to wall
television screen. At least while it was on, he wouldn’t be asked any
questions. The anthem began to play through the speakers before a bird eye view
over the thousands of teens of District 8 flooded his eyes, only a center aisle
between the boys and girls separated them. Parents and siblings and the
absolute rest of the textile district filled every corner of the streets. The
buzz of the crowd dimmed as the Escort of District 8, Alec Cataldi, took to the
stage, trying to get a laugh from them, or the people watching.
 
Alec was down three volunteers for the laughing job, because as long as Adrien
had been alive, he had never his father crack anything bigger than a polite
smile. Adrien never joked when it came to the Reapings or the Interviews or the
Games or any of that crap because even with his mixed and hardly understandable
emotions about his mother, he knew that she went through hell and back and she
was  the first one to ever do it . And Penny most likely didn’t find Alec to be
as charming or amusing as she was. She was a tv show host after all, and had to
be a little full of herself now and again.
 
Luckily for the thousands of them in District 8, and the three of them seated
there, Alec continued, going to the large globe containing the names of the
girls. The camera would pan back and forth between the girls and the globe.
Everyone holding their breath.
 
“Marinette Dupain-Cheng?”
 
The supermodel’s heart skipped a beat before it sunk. He leaned towards the
screen, green eyes bewildered. No. It couldn’t possibly be the same girl.
 
The crowd of girls parted, revealing the dark haired teen that he had met three
winters ago. Her hair was even in the same pigtails! Her white dress with a
flower printed on the front swayed with the wind. Alec called out to her
“Marinette! Ah, there you are. Come on now, don’t be shy. Join me up here on
stage.”
 
The cameras zoomed up so closely on her face that he could see the freckles
dotting across her nose and cheeks. The window around her got framed to the
side as her personal information came through the system, from her blood type,
to her height, weight, birthday, and an estimated number of her training score
number would be. Which sat at a lowly 6.
 
As she was called up by Alec, her eyes remained trained on the ground just
ahead of her. Something was running through her brain behind those bright blue
eyes. Only after a few steps did she turn her head to look at something behind
her. A flicker of recognition passed through her, but before Adrien could
identify the next emotion that was drumming through her, the camera panned to
Alec. After a second he called out to her again “Right up here Marinette.” He
held his hand out to her.
 
The camera didn’t ever turn back around, only facing the stage now. Alec helped
the dark haired girl upstage and held her hand, and brought it up, as if she
was a champion that had won some special prize “Our first tribute!” The escort
then moved to the opposite side of the stage “And now for the boys.”
 
He could hardly keep his attention on Alec anymore. His mind was back three
years ago, during the falling snow. District 8 didn’t have a tree in sight, so
seasons changing was hardly noticed in the northeast section of Panem. He
always remembered his mother’s favorite season was winter because it was the
one time a season came to District 8. The first time he met Marinette, she
lobbed a snowball so hard at his head and he fell flat on his ass. She looked
down at him, standing next to his side, bent at her waist, and her hands
resting on her knees,
 
“You know, it’s not much of a snowball fight if you don’t throw one back.”
 
“A-Adrien Agreste?” The television screen called out his attention with his own
name. Alec looked just as confused as he was. He pressed his hand into the
headpiece in his ear, muttering into it “Can that be right?”
 
The blond had an eyebrow raised “Did they just say my name?”
 
Penny already had her microphone by his mouth “Mr. Agreste! You’ve just been
called as District 8’s male tribute! Did you know this was a possibility? What
will you do now?”
 
The model’s mouth hung half open, his green eyes were flickering between Penny,
her microphone, and the television screen “Did he just say my name?” He
repeated, his brain, once filled with his memories of District 8 and Marinette
were drawing an all out blank.
 
He sat wordlessly in his chair, and his father and Nathalie were shoving the
host and cameraman out of the door as she’s firing off questions. His father
sternly repeated “No comment.” Nathalie already buzzed for the security team,
but it hardly mattered now. The damage was done. The television started playing
a side by side frame of the District 8 square and his shocked face, repeating
“Did they just say my name?”
 
Adrien stared at the pristine white floor, his hands loosely clasped between
his legs. Once he pushed Penny out the door and locked it firmly, Gabriel
turned around “Adrien, we need to have a discussion.” The way he said it made
it sound so casual, as if he was just another talking about another scheduling
issue.
 
The younger man was quick to anger, before this moment, he had never felt so..
betrayed “You knew, didn’t you?” He asked and hadn’t pulled his eyes off the
spot on the floor that he had grown comfortable to.
 
His father didn’t answer. Gabriel walked behind his charge, placing a hand on
his son’s shoulder.
 
Adrien ripped out of his grasp. He jumped out of his chair and turned on his
heels towards his father who stood a few inches taller than his son “You  knew
, didn’t you?” When he didn’t answer again, his fist balled up tight by his
side and he yelled “ANSWER ME DAMN IT!!”
 
Gabriel’s lips turned flat before answering tersely “Yes, I did know it was a
possibility. But Adrien, I took every precaution to make that possibility
nearly nonexistent. Most kids your age would have had their names in there at
the very least 6 times. The average in District 8 is 15, Adrien. It’s 15. Your
name was in there one time. Just once.” He expected his father to be shaking,
to be just as enraged as he was. But the man was just was calm, cool, and
collected as ever. His voice was just louder than the tv behind Adrien, and he
could hear the confirmation of his and Marinette’s placement as the District 8
tributes.
 
Looking at his father like this made Adrien’s blood boil “Why didn’t you tell
me?! I had every right to know!”
 
His father sighed “I can never talk to you when you’re like this. You’re just
like your mother.”
 
The chair Adrien had been sitting in was knock over to close the distance to
his father. His hands fisted the older man’s shirt and dragged him close.
Nathalie gasped. The blond was shaking. Tears threatened to burn the edges of
his eyes. Gabriel hardly moved from the spot he was standing in “AND NOW I’M A
TRIBUTE JUST LIKE HER TOO!!”
 
Unfazed, Gabriel took both of Adrien’s wrists and removed his hands from his
clothing “And I will do everything in my power to ensure that you are the
victor of your Games as well.”
 
The high string of emotions were too much. Adrien wrapped his arms around his
father and cried into his shoulder. He asked pointless questions that his
father wouldn’t answer ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’ ‘How did you know?’ ‘What’s
going to happen to me?’ He didn’t answer, but uncharacteristically, Gabriel
hugged his son and soothed the back of his head, patting his hair like a child
to calm him down.
 
===============================================================================
 
 
Thousands of miles away, another father held their child. Marinette cried into
her father’s arms. One of his eyes has swollen shut, black and blue. Her mother
stood by their side, gently rubbing her daughter’s back as she muttered endless
apologizes.
 
“Papa! I’m so sorry that I got you hurt!”
 
His large fingers pat the short hairs at the nape of her neck “Mon chouchou,
this is not your fault. Your Papa is just a silly man.” He wiped the tears from
his daughter’s face “This wound is only temporary. My only real wound would be
if I lost you. My daughter!” Tom was not one to cry. He was a rather large man,
raised in a family of three sisters, where he was the littlest but the
strongest. He had to put on the brave face and protect his family, a trait that
was not lost to him when he started his family with Sabine but now he was
powerless to help his own daughter. Tears descended his soft cheeks and wet his
mustache.
 
Sabine brushed her husband’s and daughter’s hair. She held back tears, but her
small hand squeezed the large man’s biceps at his words “Tom!” Her family’s
eyes turned to the small woman, shocked in such a raw experience “Don’t say
such a thing. This isn’t goodbye. Not by a long shot.” She knelt down, Tom and
Marinette’s legs having given up on them the moment they started hugging. She
held her child’s face between her palms and brought her up to stand as she
spoke “You are my strong Marinette.” At their full heights, Marinette stood a
good half a head taller than her mother “Just look at you. You’re strong and
you’re smart too.”
 
The younger woman smiled through her tears. She put a hand over her mother’s,
turning her face into her mother’s palm “Thanks mama, b-but what if it’s not
enough?”
 
“It will be.” She insisted.
 
A peacekeeper by the door interrupted them “You have one more minute.”
 
“We don’t have much time.” Her mother began looking through her purse, finally
pulling out a picture of the three of them “Take this for your trip. And- And
watch what you eat, in the Capitol and the- the Arena.”
 
“Don’t worry Marinette. We’ll do whatever we can to send you money in the
Games. We’ll sell the bakery if we have to.” Her father added to the young
girl’s distress.
 
“Don’t! I mean, Mama, Papa, I appreciate it, I really do. But I-I’m strong on
my own.” She resolved herself, putting on a brave face “I’ll come back home. I
will, I promise.”
 
The peacekeepers opened the doors “Your time is up.”
 
She kissed her parent’s cheeks “Go, please. For me. And don’t sell the bakery.
It’ll only upset me. Just promise me to bake me something sweet for when I come
back!” She waved goodbye to her parents. All she could think of was that those
sweets would go to waste if she came back in a bodybag.



***** Trapped in a Train *****
Chapter Three
 
A minute after her parents are escorted from the room, Alec comes in with a an
avox in tow. She is dressed in red, but besides that, there is nothing
outstanding about the girl. Her long black hair was pinned up, not a hair
touching the red band around her neck. One of her eyes was covered by her
bangs. She stood by Alec’s side, hands clasped in front of her and her eyes
downcast.
 
The District 8 escort clapped his hands together “Now that all of that tragic
stuff is out of the way, let’s get a good look at you.” He moved to circle her,
eyes dragging up and down her form “Not bad. Seen worse off for sure.” He
played with the ends of her pigtails “In fact, I think we can make you perfect
Capitol material. Of course, you’ll have to learn quickly. I’ll have to spend
most of my time with Adrien, no offense. He just looks like a shoe in to win.”
 
She still felt the sting. Of course supermodel Adrien Agreste would win over
her. His mother was the first victor ever and he was a popular model on his own
with a father who had millions of dollars backing him. He was perfect and she
just wasn’t. If she had anymore tears, she would start crying all over again.
She was not going to do that. She had just promised her parents she would come
back home. She had to. She had to at least try. Marinette shrugged “Then I’ll
figure it out. I am pretty quick on my feet.”
 
“Oooh, feisty. I like it. Come now, the car is waiting outside. The train
should be waiting to leave once we arrive.” Alec looked dismissively at the
avox “Go start the car.”
 
She bowed her head slightly and quickly departed. The tribute and escort
followed behind.
 
===============================================================================
 
 
Normally the District 8 streets would be buzzing with energy and the sound of
sewing machine would go on til late into the night. Since the reaping had
happened less than an hour ago, workers had yet to travel across town to their
jobs. Looking at the time she could hardly believe it herself. Less than an
hour ago, her name had been called.
 
They had passed the street that held her house, the bakery. She couldn’t see it
from the main driving road, since it was tucked back a few blocks down, but the
fact that she knew it was there filled her chest up. She didn’t feel sad at the
moment. Perhaps tonight when she realized she was thousands of miles away from
home, it would hit her harder but she did not want her memory of home to be
tainted. She needed this to stay sane, and to stay hopeful. If she didn’t.. She
would fall apart at the seams.
 
If she was going to die, she was going to die with the smell of freshly baked
bread in her mind, and the pricks of needles in her fingertips.


The train was surrounded by workers from District 6, who were busy refueling
the train and loading coal into the open cart nearest the engine room. They
looked pale, some looked gray or almost yellow. She knew well enough that many
from District 6 had a drug addiction problem. Peacekeepers stood by them,
ensuring they continued working even as their car pulled into the station.
Marinette had not ever seen a train up close before. District 8’s fencing had
prevented anyone not authorized to work the train tracks to stay far, far away.
The had bypassed the checkpoint a while ago and had to drive down a long road
before the train station opened up to them.
 
The avox driving the car, pulled up to the parking. Alec had insisted that they
both sit in the back and enjoy the car with the windows down. The dark haired
girl didn’t really enjoy having the wind in her face and her bangs pushed
around haphazardly but she didn’t say a word. Alec seemed like the type to talk
her in miles before anything got done. When the car was parked, Marinette
reached for the door but Alec’s hand, which had rested on her shoulder the
whole ride, smacked her arm “She’ll get it.”
 
She had to let the avox get up and out of the car to let Alec out, and then a
few seconds for her to walk around the car and open her door for her. The avox
offered her a hand, and Marinette thought it was rude to refuse, even if she
doesn’t need the help. Once she has gotten to her feet, she smiled to the
taller girl “Thank you.”
 
“Ugh! Marinette! Didn’t your mother ever teach you not to talk to the help!
You’re  embarrassing  me.” Alec pulled her to his side. He lead her towards the
train, a worker getting the door open for them “You have a lot to learn, but
don’t worry, I’m a great teacher. Tonight, I’ll teach you some dinner
etiquette. You’ll need it to make a good impression on your mentor. Speaking of
which! Where is that tom cat?” In the train car they had hopped into, it looked
to be one meant for dining, or at the very least drinking. There were tables
with cushioned benches around it and a bar off the side that had some variously
colored drinks on it’s counters “He said he’d be here on time! Ugh. I’m going
off to find him Marinette. Stay here and have a drink or two. Not anything too
strong, you’re such a small girl, but lord knows you deserve a drink after
today! I know I’m going to indulge a little later tonight. The Reapings are
always so taxing on my pores.”
 
Alec waved his face, as if that would help clear out his pores from the
‘stress’ he’s feeling. At least he doesn’t complain more. He moved in the next
room, in search of her new mentor. The avox behind them, closed the door of the
train and then followed Alec out of the car and to the next, leaving her alone.
 
She eyed the drinks. She has never had alcohol in her lifetime, it’s a harder
commodity to come by in District 8 ever since an epidemic of alcoholism
consumed a good portion of the district’s population over ten years ago. It’s
how she lost her grandfather, and she knows how her father has sworn off the
stuff ever since. Marinette doesn’t want to wander down the same path, but she
is thirsty. Perhaps she can find some water. She had been parched ever since
the Reaping and the dryness of her throat has not left her since.


She crossed the room and swung open the latch to the bar. Inside, the wall is
lined with liquor, as well as the countertop, but there is a clean and open
surface for the supposed bartender to work on on top of a set of cabinets.
Marinette opened up the first bottle of clear liquid she could find, but the
smell of it tells her it’s not water. She gave up the search for water on the
counter and goes to look under the cabinets to see if maybe they have any of
the bottled stuff. As Marinette ducked to look inside the cabinets, she hears
one of the train doors slid open.
 
Thinking it’s her mentor and Alec who have come back, she closed the cabinet
and is about to stand when she hears a light voice “Didn’t you say she was in
here?”
 
There was no reply to her question, not one Marinette could hear.
 
“He can only keep that man busy for so long. If she’s not in here, then where
else can she be?”
 
Marinette stayed hidden. Her pulse is throbbing. If she learned anything from
class, she knows that right now, she is experiencing ‘flight or fight’ and
since she can’t choose between one of the two, she has decidingly remained
frozen.
 
The woman walked around the room, pacing. Her heels clicked on the tile
flooring “I know you disabled them, but can you tap into the cameras and see
where she could have gone?” There is a minute pause and without a doubt,
Marinette knows she’s going to be found, by who, she cannot say for certain,
but she does not want to find out.
 
No one would dare kill a tribute before a Game, the consequences of such an
action would strike fear into anyone with half a brain. But a seeded fear of
doubt in her head makes her believe that maybe someone would try to hurt her or
control her so that her district partner (she does not dare to think the name
right now, she has been avoiding confronting that part of her in for the past
hour) has a better chance of surviving the Games. So before the woman had a
chance to get her hands on her, Marinette reached for the countertop and
knocked over a few bottles, shattering them on the ground. The noise catches
the woman’s attention, but the dark haired girl doesn’t bother her a glance.
She pulled herself over the counter and makes a run for the door the woman left
open.
 
She closed it behind her and moved into the next car, running through it. When
she opens the door to the next part of the train, she hears her name called
out. Through the glass of the door, she can see the woman briefly enough to see
that her hair is a vibrant red with a patch of black on her bangs, and white,
white porcelain skin. Marinette turned away before she can freeze again and
allow herself to get caught.
 
In the next room, to her horror, she finds no door on the other side. There is
only a maintenance latch on the roof, which has been left open and another a
line of six doors on either side of the hall, that all lead to bedrooms. Before
she can think through what would be the best option, the red haired woman comes
through the door and closes it behind her “Marinette, please don’t try to run.
I only want to talk to you for a few minutes. We don’t have much time.” The
woman holds her hands up by her waist and moves to sit on the floor. She
unbuttons the top of her red coat, allowing her to breath easier “Please sit
with me.” She gestured to the ground.
 
Wary, Marinette elects to sit two feet away, with her feet tucked to the side
instead of underneath, in case she needs to make a run for it.
 
“Thank you Marinette. Now this is going to be a lot of information to take in,
and I won’t be able to give you all the details right now but it is important
that you listen to everything I have to say. Do you understand all that right
now?” Her voice is steady and doesn’t waver, like she has already has every bit
of confidence in the young girl.
 
Unable to find her voice, she nods.
 
“Good. Then this will be easy. I come from an organization within Panem, one
that wishes to put an end to these Games. But in order to do that, we need
help, your help Marinette.”
 
When she speaks, she surprises herself “Then why are you asking me?”
 
“Excuse me?”
 
“Why are you asking me?” She repeated. Her blue eyes are downcast, staring at
the red carpeted floor between the two ladies “Don’t get me wrong. I hate the
Games. I hate having to watch my friends disappear every year. We’ve lost so
many good people.. But, I’m nothing special. I don’t know how to fight, or
hide, or survive in the wild. I’m the daughter of a baker, and if you need to
help, t-then you should ask Ad-” Her throat is closing up. She didn’t want to
have to think about him, not right now when things were still so complicated
“You should ask Adrien. Everyone wants him to win anyway.”
 
The woman paused for a moment, choosing her words carefully “Well, we will be
asking for Adrien’s help as well. But he can’t do it alone. He can’t do it at
all without you. You were the one who was chosen to do this.”
 
“There must be some mistake-”
 
The woman leans over the space between them a places a her finger, covered in a
velvet red glove against her lips “There is no mistake. Call it fate, destiny,
whatever. None of that matters.” Her other hand dipped into her the breast
pocket of her coat “Take this.” She pulled out a jewelry box with a Chinese
design crafted onto the black box “Tell them it is your tribute token.”
 
Marinette thinks to the picture of her family. She can’t even think about
letting it go “But I already have my token.”
 
“I know Marinette, but you have to trust me. They won’t take this from you now.
But you’ll have to make a decision soon. Think it over. If you don’t think this
is for you, I will completely understand. But I have the utmost faith in you.”
Her moved her finger from her lips and slid her fingers up to cup her cheek and
force the small box into her hands “You’ll arrive in the Capitol by noon
tomorrow. Either leave the box or your picture in your room. If it’s your
picture Marinette, I promise to keep it safe and have you see your family
soon.” She lets her hand fall from her freckled cheek and stood up. She walked
around the baker’s daughter and jumped up, catching the emergency roof latch
that was left open and pulled herself up and out of the train.
 
Holding the box tight in one hand, she stays up as well, watching her leave and
she calls out “Wait! What’s your name?”
 
She holds her breath, staring at the open sky above the moving train. After a
moment, she thinks she’s lost her chance for the question but a bundle of short
read and black hair pops back into view with a bright smile, rivaling the
brightness of the sky behind her head “It’s Tikki.” She closed the hatch and
Marinette is left alone with her box and a head full of unanswered questions.


***** Lunch With Plagg *****
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
Chapter Four


Marinette doesn’t bother to open the box just yet. From the sounds of it, she
has to look normal and act like she had just met a mysterious woman from a
secret organization that plans on ending the Games because otherwise she is
going to sound insane. She returns to the room that Alec has left her in, only
to curse at the broken glass on the floor. The alcoholic scent has already
filled the room and now she has to pick up all the shards on the floor. Today
has really not gotten off to the best start.
 
She bends down and picked up the larger of pieces of glass and threw them into
a garbage bin behind the bar. She was still cleaning up the mess when Alec, the
avox, and another man entered the train car. Alec, high strung and keyed up
seems to be the norm with him, rushes over but stops before the spilt drinks
can touch his shoes “Marinette! What happened?! Put that glass down right now!
You could get yourself hurt!”
 
She shrugged “I’m sorry, but it’s okay, I was just cleaning up the mess now.”
The dark haired girl rises up and as she does, she finds the avox girl in front
of her, pulling the glass pieces out of her grasp and disposing of them for
her. The sharpness of her bright orange eyes could cut her better than the
glass ever had the chance to. Marinette has to catch herself not to say thank
you again. Alec would be sure to have a fit.
 
Alec reached a hand for her and Marinette carefully stepped over the glass,
while the avox girl sets to work pulling out a mop and broom from behind the
bar to clean up the little mess she made. Once Alec has helped her over,
another hand reaches out for hers. The man with Alec, significantly taller than
him, has her hand at his mouth, where he is pressing a kiss to her knuckles
“Already causing a mess? Looks like this year is going to be full of fun.” He
lifted his head up and relinquished her palm. His hair is black, swept back and
held together with gel as if it would get too wild without it. His skin is
dark, he looks like he has recent family from some foreign country in the
Mediterranean, but nothing sets off his model like looks like his green eyes.
She has a vague memory of him, but as more than just a tribute. She can’t place
her finger on it “My name is Plagg, I’ll be your mentor for the Games.”
 
“Very nice to meet you Plagg. I’m Marinette.”
 
“Ooh, I know all about you little girl. Alec has told me so much you but I like
to make my own first impressions.” His acid green eyes flickered to the mess on
the floor “You a klutz or something? What happened here?”
 
Her blue eyes followed his “Um. Uh, no. Well, I mean I am a klutz but, that
wasn’t what happened.” What a terrible liar has she become. Come on, at least
pretend you know what you’re doing. After a quick breath, she is quick to
recover “I went looking for a water bottle and I just, saw a bug.”
 
He rose an eyebrow towards her “A bug?”
 
“Yea, a bug, you know. Just out of the corner of my eye. And without realizing
where my hand went, I went to smack the bug and then one bottle tipped over
another.” She gestured to the mess and then rubbed her arm “The domino effect
really does cause a much larger ripple.”
 
He hummed, “I’ve had my fair share of spilled wine. Just as long as it doesn’t
land on my cheese, I’ve been doing just fine.” His eyes catch something before
his lips stretch, cat like and amused “I believe I found the culprit of you
little scare. Plagg reached a hand out to her shoulder and pulled back a single
digit to show Alec.
 
The escort pulled back in disgust, not wanting to get touched by the bug “What
is that?” He bothered to look closer as the tiny creature flapped it’s wings “A
ladybug?”
 
“Looks like it.” Her mentor comments before the small dotted bug takes off from
his finger to land on Marinette’s shoulder once more “It’s taken a liking to
you.” The ladybug took off, it’s small body disappearing in the large room “You
must have amazing luck little girl. Let’s sit down and talk. You probably have
a lot of questions and I’m the only one around here to help, so let’s make it
quick. That Agreste kid is going to work me and my connections to the bone once
we get to the Capitol. God, I need a drink.”
 
===============================================================================
 
 
Lunch turned out to be much more revealing than Marinette thought it was going
to be. Yet, her mentor hardly took her questions very seriously, even if Plagg
was very forthcoming with anything regarding the Games and the Arena. The man
tended to say the first thing that came to his mind with a mouth stuffed with a
mountain of cheese or a glassful of wine.
 
Around a cracker, that was topped with boursin cheese, he answered a question
of hers “Whell, it’s bad fwo main-” He swallowed, leaving crumbs on his lips.
Alec politely ignored the rude table manners of her mentor for whatever reason
“Bad to main any weapon. The arena will have a-” Plagg coughed, reaching for
his white glass of wine, taking a few heavy chugs. He smacked his lips and
wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. Alec went a little green around the
gills, but bit his tongue “They’ll have various kinds of weapons in there. And
you don’t know what resources you’ll have. If you were a career, that would be
a little different. But since you’re not, I won’t bother going into the details
for that.”
 
She was sick of getting half assed answers. He was giving her just a taste of
what she needed to hear, but he shot down most her ideas without giving her
much other reason other than that she shouldn’t. Marinette was losing her edge
and at this point she just wanted to say anything to shock him. So she did
“Okay. I get it. But what if I was a career? Or at least joined them?”
 
Both dark skinned men rose a brow to her. Plagg was the first to respond “You
wanna join the career squad?”
 
She pushed at her food, a piece of smoked tuna. She had only taken a few bites.
She needed her mouth free to ask questions. Even if she was hungry and the food
was delicious, she was too pent up full of energy to eat “Well, maybe? I don’t
know yet. But it is an option. The careers nearly always make it towards the
end. The numbers say my best bet would be to get in with them.”
 
“What, what, what?!!” Alec’s hands banged repeatedly on the table “You can’t do
that! Actually, you could.. But you can’t! Careers stick with their own. They
almost never bring other districts into their fold. And if they do, it is only
so that they could stab them in the back in the middle of the night. It’s way
too dangerous. And to think I was thinking about placing some money on you.
Tsk. And if I think back on it, the only time that plan has ever worked was
when-” His dark brown eyes flickered to the man beside him.
 
“I am a victor you know.” His head hangs towards Alec with a newly assembled
cracker with cheese. He chewed “I had to have won my Games somehow, Cataldi.”
His green eyes, burning like the acid they remind her of, turn on her “Your
plan, it’s not bad. It’s just been done before.”
 
She blinked “I’m guessing you did it.”
 
“Bravo, get the little girl a prize.” He took another bite of his cracker “You
probably never watched my Games. It happened somewhere like, what, gotta be
going on 14 years ago? So you were just a baby little girl.” Plagg chuckled in
the back of his throat “Funny. That makes you and Adrien my 13th batch of
tributes to train. Hell, maybe that’ll be my lucky number.”
 
Marinette has to keep her mouth shut about Adrien. He is just gonna keep
flooding back into her mind if she doesn’t.
 
“Anyways. I was the winner of the 11th Games. I am also the youngest victor of
the Games thus far. I was 13 when I won. So you can see why it might be a lucky
number.” His cheshire grin takes over his face and it makes her uncomfortable.
 
She shrugged and looked away “Or maybe you are just a black cat with one too
many lives.”
 
“Me-ouch.” He purred “That hurts. If you didn’t want to hear about my Games,
you just had to say so.”
 
Her eyebrows drew in, in mock concern “Sorry.”
 
“Don’t worry little girl, I can take a hit.”
 
“That’s the thing though. I don’t care if you can take a hit. I know  you  can.
You’re the one who survived the Games, but I haven’t.” She dropped her
utensils. She wrapped her arms around her middle “Don’t you get it? You really
shouldn’t be acting like this is all just.. A game. It’s not, no matter what
you call it. It’s my life.” Adrien’s name nearly slips out so easily, but she
refrains from it “It’s 23 other kids lives. And now with whatever the President
has up his sleeve with this Quarter Quell thing, it’s more serious and scary
and confusing than ever.”
 
Plagg’s leg bounces on his knee, where he was it propped up “Sooooo, your point
is?”
 
She has to take a minute to give him an exasperated look “My point is that I’d
like it if you took this seriously. I want you to want me seriously. I get that
you main concern is always going to be Adrien, I get that, and he should be
your main concern. He is just more important than I am. But when I do have time
with you, I’d like it if you were honest with me and actually taught me how to
have a chance at any of this.”
 
He puts down his half done cracker in favor of looking towards Marinette. His
leg comes off of his knee and he plants both feet on the ground. Alec swallowed
his bite of tuna quickly in order to give the moment the silence Plagg seeks
“You want me to be honest?”
 
“Yes.” She dares.
 
“Since you asked little girl.” He smirks, like he has been waiting for this all
afternoon “Alright. The reason I’ve been, really, just been making small talk
with you is because I think it’d be a waste of time to teach you anything.”
 
His words have the desired effect. Her pride is hurt, and now her insecurities
are festering at the open wound.
 
Plagg rubbed his ear momentarily before continuing “You’re just not worth my
time. You’re an unimpressive girl. You’re small, pretty thin, surprising for
the daughter of a baker. Or maybe not, can’t go eating the merchandise your
father spends his pretty pennies on. And this passive aggressive thing of you
trying to get me to help you isn’t really working out. Actually, it’s pretty
pathetic. Maybe if showed me something other than your tits, that I’m sure all
your little middle school fan boys must adore, than I would-”
 
The second he opened his mouth again, her blue eyes turned downcast but it
wasn’t because she was holding back tears or the hurt. No, her bright eyes were
scanning her surroundings. The table was relatively small. She could reach her
arm across the table with only a little assistance once she was standing. That
fork she just dropped looked like it would be the right length. And the wine
bottle that he has been drinking from all afternoon is nearly empty. Still, it
looks like the glass should be weighted enough.
 
So it’s within those few seconds that the dark haired girl, her bangs shadowing
over her eyes, stands up, a hand on her fork already. Marinette holds the fork
like it’s an ice pick and she hurls her fist towards Plagg. The fork catches on
his suit’s jacket and pierces the skin near his clavicle. With strength he
can’t imagine how she poses, she yanks the man with her hold on him. He yowls
as he is forced up and out of his chair and bent over the table. The table
cloth is thrown askew and so is half the food and dishes. They clatter on the
floor. A moment later, shattering follows the sound and Alec jumps away from
the table, shrieking.
 
Marinette dropped the broken bottle of wine that she smashed over Plagg’s head
“Should have warned you-”
 
Plagg doesn’t give her time to finish. His long arms wrap around her thin body.
He tackles her across the table, taking it down with them. When she lands, her
head hits a fallen platter and she can see white dots in her vision. The man
that claims that he is her mentor, slides up her body and his large hand closes
around her throat before she has time to react “Warn me about what?!” He huffs,
acid green eyes chemically burning her.
 
She can hardly breath with his hand on her neck, let alone speak. It doesn’t
stop her from swinging her legs forward and kicking from so hard in the back
that he falls forward onto her waiting mouth. Marinette bites his neck until he
screams out. Alec screams for them to stop, but doesn’t move closer to the two.
 
Her bite victim struggles to remove himself from her clenched teeth. He
squeezes her throat harder. Once he has a good grip maintained, he pulls his
weight up, bringing her with him and slams the two of them down. The blinding
pain is enough to make her lose her bite on him. She gasps with what little
breath she has left.
 
She struggles, her nails digging into the fingers at his throat. She is able to
break one of his fingers away, but then he applies his second hand to her
throat. He glares down at her, watching her scratch at his arms. A moment after
the panic sets in, he releases her throat and pins down her wrists to keep his
hold on her “Eh. Not bad. Very unexpected.” He huffs between each of his
breathes “We can work with that.” He lets go of her wrists and stands.
 
Marinette sat up on her elbows to glare at him. If looks could kill, Plagg
would be an icy statue under her blue stare and Alec would certainly be
frostbitten too.
 
Her mentor extended a hand out to help her up. She pointedly ignored the hand
and helps herself up. Her dress has half of her tuna, or maybe it’s Alec’s,
stuck to her. It’s too hard to tell in the mess the two of have created. Plagg
wriggled his nose, displeased with the wine that his wet the back of his jacket
“Alec, call the avox to clean this shit up.”
 
The clean man huffed and put his arms across his chest “I will, but don’t start
getting use to ordering me around like some handmaiden! You’re lucky I can’t
stand the smell of fish on my clothes.” Alec moved around the broken glass and
ceramic, careful with his white leather loafers.
 
Once the doors closed behind him, Plagg picked up his fallen chair and turned
it to sit down properly “Let’s talk about this while we have a moment. Pick up
a seat, there is plenty around.” He gestured to the ones turned over on the
floor.
 
“I’d rather go take a shower and ignore you, so let’s just make this quick.”
The teen crossed her arms. Her voice sounds rough from being choked and she
refuses to admit that it hurts.
 
He shrugged “Fine. Don’t talk to me then. But remember, you need me more than I
will ever need you sweetheart.”
 
The fight blared in their eyes once more. She concedes only because she knows
she can’t win. Her father always did comment on the stubbornness of Cheng
women. She pulled up a chair from the floor, wiped down the seat and crossed
her legs as she sat down.
 
“Good choice. Proves that you can set aside your feelings to get what you need.
You’ll need that in the Games. At least the more important part of this
fiasco.” He sighed, his eyes trailing the female tribute. He wedged his thumb
between his teeth “You’re dangerous, you know that, right?” He muttered between
his teeth and thumb. Before she could answer, he popped his thumb out of his
mouth in favor of leaning forward, on the edge of his chair “What were you
going to warn me about?”
 
“What?” She questioned, leaning back further into her chair.
 
“After you hit me with the bottle. You should you have warned me about
something.”
 
Marinette smirked “You probably already noticed it. I have a bad temper.”
 
“Ha!” He laughed genuinely “I don’t think I’ve heard anything truer.”
 
She rolled her eyes, but her mirthful smirk stayed anyway.
 
“Look, I get it, you and me, we are not going to get along. That’s fine by me.
I got plenty of friends and I don’t need you but on the other hand, training
you is my job. And since you don’t seem like a whiney ‘peace and love and no
more games’ crybaby.. well, two outta three ain’t bad. I can tolerate working
with you, as long as you can tolerate me. So as long as you can do that and
promise me you’ll give it hell in the Arena, I’ll tell pretty boy that he can
go fuck himself. He gets treated like every little boy and girl that has walked
in here before.” Plagg held his hand out to Marinette “What do you say little
lady? We got a deal?”
 
She considers the offer and it sounds so good. She needs every advantage she
can get and having her mentor actually train her would be amazing. And if she
really wants to even contemplate joining this strange group of rebels that
Tikki has given her a sneak preview to, then she actually has to be in a good
position to help. Rebels want numbers but they will not want people in their
ranks aren’t worth it.  
 
The bluenette also has to let her mind dwell on the fact that if Adrien joins
Tikki too, that she has to be useful. She has already let him down once and if
she can’t help him in the games either, that will be another crushing blow that
she can’t handle.
 
Nodding, Marinette has her mind made up. Part of her thinks it’s way too early
and she has not had enough time to process anything, but she goes for it anyway
“Okay.” She shakes his hand “Deal. Quick question though.”
 
They drop their joined hands “Yes?”
 
“When did I get promoted from ‘little girl’ to ‘little lady’?”
 
“Sometime between you stabbing me with a fork and you smashing a glass of wine
over my head. But I was also thinking of changing it to bitch.”
 
“Pfft.” She smiled but it’s short lived because outside, she can see and feel
the train slowing down. She got up out of her chair, and walked to a window,
looking around “We can’t be there just yet, can we?”
 
Alec and the avox Marinette had met, followed by two more come into the room
just as the train is coming to a stop. They’ve arrived at another station, but
it looks nothing like the Capitol Marinette has seen on TV.
 
Plagg does not move from his spot as he answers “No. This is just the refueling
stop. We’ll arrive tomorrow before noon.” He stopped one of the avoxes by
grabbing her wrist “Get me a bottle of Merlot, anything from the 70s, and a
platter of Gouda. Have it brought to my room.” He stood and nodded to Alec and
Marinette “I’ll be in my room if you need me. Don’t need me. And do us all a
favor and take a shower Marinette. You still smell like the district and it
does not go at all with the fish.”
 
“Who’s fault do you think that was?” She mockingly glared at him as he left.
 
“He isn’t wrong.” Alec stayed by the door, not wanting to dirty his shoes.
 
The glare that comes his way is short lived. She is tired and a bath does sound
nice “Alright, I get it. Where is my room?”
 
The two avoxes left are busy cleaning and Alec doesn’t look like he wants to
bother them “I’ll show you to it. The better it’ll be for me once this disaster
is cleaned up. I’m so stressed, I wish there was a masseuse on this wrecker.”
 
Alec took out the door first, since he stood by it but before Marinette could
join him, out the window, she can see something. The rumble that followed the
movement down the tracks, let her see a train coming down the opposite side
towards them. The other trained slowed, stopping beside them.
 
“Marinette! Let’s go!”
 
She looked away from the train and followed Alec down the hall.
Chapter End Notes
     Writing this up, I wasn't too sure if maybe I made Marinette a little
     OOC? I always just saw her being a little more insensitive and hotter
     headed without Alya, but let me know.
     Otherwise, see you around next chapter.
***** Two Options *****
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
Chapter Five


Nathalie sat opposite from Adrien, her laptop in between the two of them. Even
thousands of miles apart, she still was able to monitor his father’s scheduling
and order him a coffee with three creamers and no sugar. Technology was a
wonderful thing, at least the full time assistant thought so. The seating could
be better. She made a note of that. She could feel the tracks beneath them even
as they slid on by and cut through the wilderness of the lesser districts. This
had been her idea, which was why she was the one to accompany her boss’s son on
the trip.
 
They had needed damage control. The Agreste brand would see a major drip in
stock value if their holders thought that their money would be going into
paying Adrien’s way to winning the Games instead of continuing the build of
their business. The public needed some sort of reassurance that Adrien would be
treated as every other model tribute, so, she got them on the first and fastest
train she could book and had them careening through the country to meet up with
the tribute train that would take the District 8 tributes into the Capitol to
make their debut. He would ride in with the Dupain girl and charm just about
everyone at the train station in the Capitol.
 
Currently, the boy was in a foul mood, nearly the worst she had ever seen him
in. Too bad they weren’t looking to take photos of him in leather jackets or
atop motorcycles. At least his pout and angry brow would be worth something
then. And she would remind him of that “Adrien.” She snapped, garnering his
attention “Stop with that face. If your muscles get too tense like that,
tomorrow, everyone will think you have anger issues.”
 
“I  am  angry.” His hard green eyes barely phased the woman. She was like a
damn robot, it was unnerving.
 
“Well figure out a way to get over it.” Checking her watch, and looking at the
sunset out the window she noted the late hour “Soon, you’ll have to meet with
your tribute partner and you’d better start making a good first impression.
From the records I found on her, she’s likely to be no competition to you, but
if you can figure out what sort of areas she likes to hide, then you can sell
her to the careers. Statistically speaking, if you were to join them, the
chances of you making it to the later stages of the game increase
dramatically.”
 
He nearly hissed “I’m not selling her out just to increase my odds! Are you
even a fucking person? Or did my father just hire someone to handcraft you to
be as emotionless and calculating as he is?”
 
She assumed that she would get this kind of reaction out of him. She swore, if
she didn’t know any better, she would not believe that he was the son of
Gabriel Agreste. He is just so attached to his emotions. He doesn’t ever think
with a clear head, he’s all heart and it makes Nathalie wonder if his father
was ever like this in his younger years. Probably not, he got all if not most
of his traits from his mother. The assistant sighed “I’m just thinking with a
clear, nonobjective head. And I’m doing all of this for your benefit.” She
closes her laptop “You do know that this affects us much as it does you,
right?” With a dismissive wave of her hand she cuts of his next words “Not just
for your modelling or the stocks or anything like that. I’m just telling you
that your father does care about you and your well being. He might not show it,
but he has been afraid of this possibility since he found out about it. We
don’t want to lose you Adrien.”
 
Her words stunned Adrien. It is one of the few times she ever sounded human, he
could evenly call it motherly. Suddenly, he is plagued with guilt and it is
written all over his face. His father did try, he wanted to make sure his son
was safe. And now he had left the Capitol and his father and didn’t even say a
proper goodbye. Would Adrien be allowed to see his father again? Or would he
only be allowed to see the man from afar and not be able to say sorry or thank
him? “You’ll tell my father that I’m sorry, won’t you?”
 
“He already knows Adrien. That’s just what you do for your kids.” She reassured
him. Truth was, her voice sounded stronger than how she actually felt about
Gabriel’s feelings for the young model, but someone had to be able to comfort
the motherless boy. She reopened her laptop, feeling successful in appeasing
the teenager “Let’s continue with my reports and calculations. We’ve already
had Vincent reassigned to work as your stylist for the Games, so he’ll be able
to make sure you look stunning for the cameras. He’s already begun work for
your Opening Ceremony outfit. Thankfully, from the last measurements he took,
he should have everything in the right size, so long as you don’t grow much
more.”
 
Stretching his arms, he sighed “I should stop growing. The growth spurt pains
have stopped so hopefully I’ll stay this height.”
 
“Excellent. I’ve also constructed a new dietary regime for you to follow. It’s
similar to your summer one, but I’ve added in a higher count of protein and
calories considering that you will need to build up your muscle mass in a short
amount of time. Here is a print out of it, I have sent a copy to your mentor,
who is by the way, Plagg Mittel, you know, that action hero actor. He should be
on a similar diet so you must listen to everything he tells you and follow his
exercise routines to the letter.” She handed over a folder with a few papers
inside. Adrien flipped through the first few that went over his diet and
exercise, and his new mentor. And then he saw an unfamiliar face, with notes
“There you will find the contests that we believe will be the best suited for
you to get acquainted with. Mostly careers, but if they neglect to accept you
into the group, we have also devised a ‘B Group’ if you will that you should
have no trouble collecting and joining.”
 
“Wait a second, you just expect me to walk up to these guys and start making
friends?”
 
“Not friends Adrien, accomplices. Having a group increases your odds of
survival.”
 
He closed the folder “I can’t do that! God! Have you ever seen me interact with
anyone my age? I’m a mess.”
 
“But you and the President’s daughter, Chloe Bourgeois are always together
during your free time.” She pulls up his schedule, like she can find how she
has been mistaken.
 
“Stop looking at your screen like you’ll find some error on it for me to fix
it!” He pushed at her laptop, turning it to face away from the two of them
“Sure Chloe is my friend, but that’s only because  she  made me  her  friend. I
never have made a friend by myself.” He has to bite his tongue when a pair of
blue hair and dark hair pop into his mind’s eye. He has to admit, even with
her, she just picked him up as her friend and he went along for the ride “I
don’t know how. And trust me, I’ve tried. The other models just think I’m weird
or a daddy’s boy. I can’t convince 23 other people that I’ve never met before
to be my friend.”
 
Nathalie grabbed her laptop back “Then we’ll have to work on it. I’ll speak
with your Escort, he must be able to train you to do that.”
 
Adrien wants to argue the fact that you can’t train someone to learn how to be
friendly, but she is too soaked up in typing to be bothered with.
 
The train slows and outside the window, the view of the sunset is obscured by a
halted train. As it slows, Adrien looks into the compartment windows of the
train. There is the odd avox placed here or there, District 6 train workers and
Peacekeepers, but suddenly, two pigtails catch his eye. For a few moments, he’s
able to see Marinette following behind a bald headed man. The moments don’t
hold up for long enough before the train continues to move all the way down the
tracks and then stop.
 
His grip on his folder gets tighter “I guess this is our stop.”
 
Nathalie, who was also viewing the other train nods “Yes. I’ll escort you to
the entrance of the other train and then return here.”
 
“Wait, you’re not coming back to the Capitol with me?”
 
She shakes her head “No. The only reason that your father allowed me to come
with you and not another assistant on this journey is because he needed me to
continue onto District 8 to oversee a construction project for a new factory
there that will produce more cloth for Agreste designs.”
 
“Oh.” He sighed. He holds back the ‘Of course’ that is bubbling in the back of
his throat.
 
She packed up her laptop “Let’s be on our way.”
 
He stood up and followed her out, where Peacekeepers come and pat him down for
any weapons. They then lead the two of them to an entrance in the train, the
many compartments of where the passengers of the train are allowed. On the
first step up the train he looked back at Nathalie “I’ll see you?”
 
“I dare to hope so Adrien. Look over my notes and take care.” She waves him
goodbye as he stepped out of view into the train. A Peacekeeper followed the
young man in.
 
===============================================================================
 
 
After a minute of being taken through the train, Adrien could feel the silence
and threatened to burst it “Sooo, where exactly are you taking me?”
 
Beneath his vision, he side glanced the tall model, which was difficult
considering he stood over six feet “To your assigned room. It’s bedtime.”
 
The sun had just set, it was hardly bedtime, but he was not about to clarify
that to someone toting a gun at his hip “Right, gotcha. Is there like a
schedule or something I should know about the train?”
 
The Peacekeeper grunted “Not one you have to be concerned with.”
 
Damn, dude was about as talkative as an avox. He already missed Vincent.
Thankfully, he would be his stylist and he wouldn’t have to worry about not
being able to see him again.
 
At his door, the Peacekeeper opened it for him and waved him in. Thinking the
man would close the door after him, he turned around to lock it, but the man
stepped inside and bumped into him. He pushed Adrien forward “Move it.”
 
The blond scrambled out of his way and further into the room. It held a single
bed in the middle of the room. In front of it was a dresser with a TV on top of
it and a door leading to the bathroom just off to the left hand side.
 
The Peacekeeper grabbed the remote off the dresser “You use this to control the
room, lights, TV, and the window. If you need room service, hit this button and
an avox will come for you, in the case of an emergency, slip open the plastic
shield here and hit the button and someone will come running for you. Do Not
hit the button if it ain’t an emergency, got it pretty boy?” He held out the
remote to him.
 
Adrien reached for the remote only to have it taken away.
 
“Got it?” He repeated.
 
“I got it.” He answered and took the remote.
 
The man left, closing the door behind him but not locking it. The teen shifted
his weight from one foot to the other and chewed on the inside of his lip. What
was he suppose to do now? The reasonable thing would be to order some room
service for dinner and then study up on his folder. Tomorrow would be a big
day. The train would take them to the Remake, and in the late afternoon, the
Tributes would ride their chariots to the City Circle to present themselves to
the Capitol. Well, the Capitol knew him, just not as a Hunger Games contestant.
That would be the smart play.
 
But he wasn’t ever called out on his brilliance.
 
Adrien set down his folder and the remote on the dresser and peeked outside his
door. No one was around. That was a good sign. He really rather not run into
any of the Peacekeepers onboard. He just wanted to see if he could find
Marinette. She was somewhere on here. His only questioning thought was what
would he do once he did see her? It had been three years and when they parted
it had been under stressful and confusing circumstances, so where exactly did
they stand? He just wanted to find that out.
 
He continued through the hall. The car he was in seemed to hold about 8 rooms,
but the cars next to both of his also had 8 rooms as well, totaling 24 rooms.
He knew that he could take out one room because it was his own, so there was 23
possibilities. That was, if Marinette was even in her room at the moment. She
could be with the district escort or their mentors. Even if he had watched all
the Games since he turned 12, he couldn’t remember ever hearing of a victor
from District 8, but he assumed that there was at least one or two of them. All
he knows for sure is that Plagg is one of them, if there are more. None of the
victors of the Games were old enough to die just yet. His mother would still be
a mentor if she hadn’t disappeared.
 
Perhaps he should just wait til the morning to see her. No way, he’ll never be
able to sleep if he can’t talk to her. He can remember the sleepless weeks he
endured after their sudden separation. He can chuckle at the 14 year old
fantasies he had of sneaking onto a train and finding her again, if only to say
goodbye properly.
 
Then a great idea popped into Adrien’s head. He went back into his room and
picked up the remote, calling an avox for room service. She arrived moments
later. Her and the other avoxes must share a living space in or near the rooms
due to her quick arrival. She is dressed in red as they all are and it’s easy
for him to ignore her bright orange eye in favor of commanding her “Show me to
Marinette Dupain-Cheng’s room.”
 
Bowing her head, she crooks her fingers in a ‘come hither’ and steps back into
the dimly lit hall. The teen follows her lead, leaving the train car they were
in and go into the next. At the second door on the left, she stops and holds
her hand out to it, signalling their arrival.
 
He nodded to her “That will be all.” He dismisses her. For some reason she
stands there, unmoving. He supposes that she must stand there since this is a
girl’s room he is walking into, a girl that no one knows that he knows and
should be his competitor. He slides the door open and steps in only to nearly
trip over a silver platter.
 
On the bed, he hears a groan “I really told them not to need me.”
 
Adrien’s head whips up to the voice. On the edge of the bed, nursing a second
platter filled with cheese and a bottle of wine between his thighs is none
other than superstar action hero Plagg Mittle! He has to admit, he is a fan and
seeing the tall man with middle eastern heritage is star striking. Even if he
is suppose to learn from his man. His cheeks go a vibrant red “Oh, sorry, my
bad. Hahaha! I must have the wrong room-” He backpedals and tries to exit from
the room, but the door is slammed shut and the metal lock setting into place by
the avox on the other side of the door is shocking.
 
“Nuh uh kid, ya got the right room. I just wished you’d have done it before a
down three plates of cheese and two bottles of Merlot, which by the way had
twenty years on it. Very tasty. Want a sip?” He holds on the bottle to the
young model.
 
Standing in the doorway and unsure of what to do and confused, he shrugs “I’m
good. But what do you mean I got the right room? I was just looking for-” He
stops himself. He is not sure who he can trust and even if Plagg is his mentor,
he probably shouldn’t know how his and Mar-
 
“Marinette? She should be in her room right now taking a shower. She stinks.”
 
How did he know that? What the hell does he mean?
 
Before he can get all his questions out of his mouth, Plagg stands. He is just
as tall as Adrien but packs double the lean muscle that he does. He waved his
hand “I am just going to preemptively stop all the stupid questions you got
buzzing through those pretty blond locks of yours, alright? So shut up. I’m
Plagg, I’m your mentor, guide to the Capitol, da da da, you know the rest of
the spiel. Anyway, I also work for an organization in Panem. The type that hide
in the shadows and do what they gotta do to get by. Main mission here is to
stop the Games. We’re sick of it and it’s a fuck feast and if it means having
to go through with another rebellion, so be it.” Plagg bends down and lifts his
pant leg.
 
Adrien sees the needle on the strap of his ankle but doesn’t step away.
 
With the needle in hand, his mentor rises to his full height “So you got two
choices now, and no, don’t worry, one of them ain’t dying, yet at least. If you
want to play these rotting Games, I’ll be glad to watch your head roll there
pretty boy. Choice A: I put this needle in your neck and you take a good ole
nap and forget this ever happened. Choice B: You join the resistance. I’ll give
you some time to think it over and all-”
 
“I don’t need time. B. I’m in.”
 
“Wait, you don’t want an explanation or anything?” He smirked at the younger
man, with similar green eyes.
 
“I don’t need it, not really. But if you’re serious, I’m in.”
 
“Serious as a heart attack.” He chuckles and leans down to put his needle away
and pulls a box with chinese carvings on it “Take this and put it on. It’s a
one way communicator. You can talk to it, but you can’t talk back.”
 
Adrien opens the box and finds a silver ring. He inspects it for a moment, but
there is nothing out of the ordinary about it. He slips it on and it’s a
perfect fit “So what’s the point of me wearing this?”
 
“That’s the question you ask?” He chuckles “You’re one strange ass kid. We have
someone monitoring it. Say that it’s your tribute token. You can bring it into
the Games and if you get in some trouble, maybe we can help you out.” Plagg
walks back to his bed, bottle in hand. He hits play and the television
continues to play.
“Okay, but what’s the game plan here? What am I suppose to do?”
 
“Play along. We sit and wait for orders and play along with the Games, until
someone says otherwise. For now, why don’t you go see Marinette and convince
her to join up too, eh? You want her on our side, don’t you?”
 
“I mean, I do, it’s just..”
 
“Just what?” He leans forwards, acid green eyes peering at him.
 
“I want her to be on our side, it’s just, I can’t really make her. It’s not my
place to.”
 
“Pfft. Pussy. Whatever, go see your little girlfriend.”
 
“She’s.. well she’s not my girlfriend.” He pointed out, a bit pathetically. He
turned to the door and this time, it opened to the avox girl. He rose an
eyebrow her way “So, are you going to led me to Marinette this time?”
 
She rolled her eyes and walked down the hall, back towards his room and stops
by a door next to his room. Adrien felt stupid knowing that her room was next
to his this whole time.
 
Chapter End Notes
     So next chapter, they meet! Pinkie promise. Please guys, drop me some
     comments, give me some feedback. It'll really help me in making the
     next chapter faster and better.
     Also, cookies to those who can guess who the avox is.
***** Three Year Reunion *****
Chapter Summary
     So our two heros finally meet after 3 years. What the hell is going
     to happen?
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
Chapter Six
 
This time after the avox showed him the room, she left. He was grateful for it
because he stood at Marinette’s door for at least five minutes contemplating
how in the hell he was going to go about seeing her again after three years.
 
With a deep breath, he decided the best would be to just to knock. He knocked
three times on the door and lowered his hand. He shoved his hands into his back
pockets, hiding how they trembled. It was a trick Vincent had done on many
shoots when his hands wouldn’t stay steady enough. Adrien waited with a held
breath. After a minute, he began to doubt himself. Did she hear the knock?
Should he knock again? What if she was asleep and him knocking would just
disturb her rest? His anxious thoughts plagued him easily. He convinced himself
that he should just go to his room and see her sometime tomorrow morning.
 
He turned on his heel and took a step away when the door slid open. Her head of
black hair peeked out “Er, hello?”
 
Adrien nearly shot up three feet. When he turned around, his hands were still
digging painfully into his back pockets “Oh! Hey, hi. What’s up?”
 
“Adrien? What are you doing here?” She asked incredulously. Her hands rested on
the doorframe as she appraised him.
 
He did the same. She wasn’t wearing the white dress she had been wearing during
the Reaping. She wore long gray sweatpants and a white shirt, the top buttons
of which were undone. The shoulders of her shirt were damp and so was her black
hair. She hadn’t even fixed her hair into their usual pigtails. She looked like
she was fresh out of the shower. He stumbled to find words, painfully “Oh, you
know, Tribute Train, and my name was called, so I came, heh, small world, huh?”
 
Marinette shook her head “You’re still the same.” She said it like she couldn’t
believe it herself. She stepped forward and her small arms managed to engulf
him in a hug.
 
And just like that, it was as if all (most) of his anxieties went away. Her
wet, black ball of straight hair was tucked into his chest. She nested in,
finding home there. He tried to free his arms of her grasp so that he could hug
her properly, but she pinned his arms in effectively. He didn’t mind it until
she squeezed harder and a fit of giggles left the two of them “Marinette! I
can’t breath!” Adrien wriggled his body in an attempt to escape her.
 
She let him go and punched his shoulder “You should have thought about that
before leaving without a proper goodbye!”
 
The air froze between them.
 
There it was, out in the open. It was so like Marinette to be so cut and dry
and blunt and open and he sorely missed it in comparison to how his home life
was.
 
His hands came out of his pockets and found a new home in his front pockets
this time. They still shook as he clenched and unclenched them. He offered a
small, hard smile “If I had the chance, I would have. I’d do it right now too,”
He chuckled, his smile coming easier. He reached a hand out to touch her
forearm, pulling her a little closer to him “But I think I owe you a proper
hello too.”
 
She took little steps towards him, a coy smile breaking out on her face.
 
His other hand, fingers calm now, reached for her other arm “Why don’t I start
now?” Adrien ducked down and picked little Marinette up by her legs and spun
her in a tight circle, just like how he use to greet her over three years ago.
 
“Adrien!” She shouted, her legs popped up when she got picked up. She gripped
his back and shoulders to ensure that she stayed upright. She playfully hit him
“Put me down!”
 
“I can’t do that, my Princess! I must set you down on a throne fit for your
henie.” He slapped her thigh. He ducked into her room, as she giggled way too
much to make her small punches hurt. When he spotted her bed, he stood a few
feet away and held her hips, looking to throw her into it.
 
Marinette’s fists gripped onto his shirt “Don’t throw me! ADRIEN!!” She yelped
before he threw her onto the bed. With her hands digging into his shirt, he was
pulled with her and slammed into the edge of the bed.
 
His shirt was pulled over his head and he was forced to kneel by the side of
her bed. It hardly mattered since the two of them are laughing so hard that
their ribs ache.
 
The dark haired girl had her arm resting on her forehead and the other around
her middle. While the much larger teen has his face pressed into the sheets and
a smile that can’t be broken on his face.
 
When could get control of themselves again, Adrien fixed his shirt and lifted
himself off the edge of the bed. He looked down at Marinette and smiled softly
“Ya know, I pictured us meeting again in a lot of different ways. Most of them
involving me sneaking into a train and climbing the bakery into your balcony.”
He added off handedly before his eyebrows drew in seriously “If you didn’t have
to be here, you know, like  here  here. I could have handled not seeing you
again. I feel like me wishing for this got fudged with my bad luck.”
 
The girl in the pigtails propped herself on her elbows and scowled at him. She
hit his stomach with her foot “Stop it already. You can’t blame yourself for my
name getting drawn.” She sat up all the way, swinging her legs over the edge of
the bed. She patted the spot beside her for Adrien to sit.
 
He pouted but sat down “Oh, but I can try.”
 
Marinette gave him an exasperated “Don’t start with me. I would have thought
after three years and a modelling job that your self esteem would have improved
by now.”
 
“You’d be wrong.” He smiled regardless.
 
Silence spread between them. Adrien’s mind was filled to the brim with
unanswered questions from years ago and the lingering emotions that were left
unsaid on that night. Marinette’s mind was filling up with ways to ask him
about the rebellion, but she also wondered if their rooms had cameras or
microphones to record them.
 
“About all this-”
 
“Look we should talk-”
 
Both of them stopped and started.
 
“Sorry, you go.” Adrien insisted.
 
“No! Seriously, I’m not even sure how to start. My mind is still processing.
You say your thing.” She insisted, her hands resting in her lap.
 
He found his hands copying hers. He squeezed his knees “I’m not too sure where
to start ether.” He was glad that he rest his hands on his knees so that they
wouldn’t shake with anxiety. He found a spot on the few inches of bedsheet
between them “This is weird, isn’t it? Like, really weird, right? I mean, the
last time we saw each other we were on a date and then- that was a date, wasn’t
it?” His green floated up. Normally his gaze stayed around other’s cheekbones
or forehead, but Marinette’s bluebell eyes were hard not to look at.
 
The dark haired girl drew her long legs up, tucking the knee of one under her
chin. Her for other foot tucked in by her hip “We might have only been 14, but
yea, that was a date Adrien.”
 
He nodded dumbly “Okay, good, glad we we’re on the same page. I just wanted to
talk about it, ya know? We have to be partners in this. We can’t do this
without each other. At least, I can’t do this without you.”
 
“Yes you can. You can do anything! I’m the one who needs you to do anything.”
It was bubbling all to the surface now, her insecurities about the Games “I’m
not as strong as you, or as good in front of a camera. I don’t know how to work
a crowd, or just dazzle them with a look like you can.”
 
“As if. I just have a pretty face, and an admittedly pretty body, but I’m not
trained. Sure, I know the flattering part a little better, but I don’t even
know what to do with myself the second I start speaking. I get too nervous
talking to crowds! Father doesn’t let me near live crowds ever.” His hands
began absentmindedly rubbing his arm with shakey fingers. He held out his
nervous hand for her inspection “See? I’m already all sweaty and nervous just
from talking to you!”
 
She shook her head against her knee, looking up at him like she couldn’t
believe him “ You’re  nervous talking to  me ?”
 
“Duh. Isn’t it obvious?” He countered with a question of his own. He pulled his
sweaty hand back to wipe it on the knees of his pants “You’re this girl I met
like three years ago and I had such a bad crush on you that I sabotaged your
date, just so that I had a chance.”
 
Marinette scoffed “As if! I’m the one who ruined it and I’m the one who asked
you to come out with me. It was my choice.” The smile that came to her was like
someone reliving the experience all over again but the smile fell from her face
as quickly as it came “But that was years ago. And a lot of things have changed
since then. We’re not the same people we use to be. So I get it, you had a
crush on me, big deal.” She shrugged and the pain that stabbed Adrien was
sorely missed on her part as she looked away.
 
The blond kept his smile up. He might have not been able to lie through his
teeth to save his skin, but he could certainly conceal anything that was
brought to the surface.
 
“It’s okay if we moved on with our lives. It was crazy for us to ever think we
would see each other ever again.”
 
Green eyes flickered to the ground, unable to keep his gaze on her face
anymore. She was right. And she, unlike him with a grand total of one, had a
lot of friends, possibly a lot of people to become her lover. She had always
been so independent of him and Marinette always did end up doing whatever the
hell she wanted. And she was allowed to. Adrien by no means owned her. If
anything, Adrien owned it to her to do anything in and out of the Games to help
her. So he should not have found it surprising at all that Marinette moved on
without him. Still, he felt the sting of it.
 
Not that he would ever say a word about his feelings.
 
“You’re right.” He agreed. A kind, soft, and understanding smile never left his
cheeks “I’m glad that we both get it. So why don’t we put all that behind us,
in the past where it belongs. Right now, we’re on a train that is literally
taking us to the most deadly place in the world where the odds of surviving are
less than 4% and somehow, against those odds, we have to get out alive.”
 
“You.” She corrected “You have to get out alive.”
 
“Like hell!” He argued. His sweaty palm, finally dried, squeezed her raised
knee “There’s a different way for us.” He rubbed his silver ring into her knee
“You know that, right?”
 
Her blue eyes flickered to his hand, spotting the silver ring. She nodded “I
hope so, but I’m still not sure. It’s all so complicated and we still don’t
know who we can trust. The only person I trust is you.”
 
He thought about backing out, letting Marinette have her own thoughts
exclusively running through what she thought was right. If she wanted to join
the rebellion, after knowing that the previous one ended in utter disaster,
that was her choice to make. Just like it was his to make. But he had his
reasons, and she just didn’t except for the slim chance that they put their
faith into these unknown forces and maybe, just  maybe  they live to see their
families again. He wanted to let this be her choice but every part of him
trusted her and if she could put half as much of her trust in him, then he had
to tell her what he believed. The young teen’s fingers still squeezed her knee
“I figure that anything that increases our odds is something we should go
after. Besides, what could be worse than 4%?”
 
She smacked his arm “Knock on wood! You’ll give us bad luck. I can name plenty
of numbers lower than 4 and I don’t want to risk any of them.”
 
Adrien rolled his eyes, not very superstitious himself. He gave into her demand
regardless, knocking on the fake wood of the nightstand. As he did, he spotted
the late hour of the night, almost 10.
 
She sighed “Let me sleep on it.”
 
He nodded and stood up, moving to leave.
 
She grabbed his pants, not letting him go “Where do you think you’re going?”
 
“To bed. It’s late.” He pointed to the analog clock on her nightstand.
 
She refused to let go of his pants “You owe me a goodbye.”
 
He paused and tilted his head. With a shake of his blond locks, he said
“Absolutely not. This isn’t goodbye, not now.” He bent down and hugged her “I
will say good night however.”
 
Her arms looped around his neck and hugged him back “Goodnight Adrien.”
 
He had to tickle her sides to get her to release him back into the wild “See
you in the morning Marinette.” He left this time with his pants not threatening
to be ripped off.
 
Once he closed the door, she flopped backward. She stared up at the ceiling.
Her hair was wet, still drying from her shower. The Capitol trains had human
sized driers beside their showers, but she had had enough difficulties turning
on the shower, she refused to scald herself by accident. She would have to ask
Adrien how they worked.
 
Her face flushed. She held her face in her hands and shook her head. She tried
to will the images out of her head but her creative mind had other ideas. She
squeked in frustration. The nerves that had been bundling up awkwardly in her
gut had dissipated when the supermodel took his leave, but they were back with
a vengeance at the thought of him in a shower with her. The years had done work
on him even with such a short amount of time. How could his body have changed
so much in three years? Sure, she saw him on tv once and awhile, but he looked
even better in person. Worse, how could his mind not have changed in all that
time? He was still such a sweet dork and couldn’t stand to hurt her feelings at
all. He even let her down so gently, in the much deeper and rugged voice than
she remembered him having. Marinette knew of course, one attractive young blond
by the name of Chloe Bourgeois (who was the President's freaking daughter!) had
his heart. Still, it had just been rumors but Marinette knew with Adrien’s
fumbling voice, his unsteady eyes that were unable to meet hers for the most
part. He had outgrown his crush on her and she was stuck in the past, dredging
up old feelings that she thought she had long since buried.
 
She huffed. Her round, full cheeks were still red and the images hadn’t left
her head.
 
Looking down at her own body, she had felt so small and undeveloped in every
way possible around him. He must have been like six fucking feet tall to her
5’7”. And when the hell had his arms gone from lanky to thick, with coarse
blond hair covering forearms? He certainly did not possess the clear cut muscle
definition and veins that Plagg was packing, but he was able to pick her up and
throw her onto her bed with ease. While she had admittedly round hips, but she
lacked in the breast area. Curse her mother’s Asian genetics! And all her
father had to offer her, besides a bit of added height on the average girl, was
fair skin that burnt easily and freckles that covered her nose, shoulders,
back, and thighs. Marinette always had a sense that she was cute, but in no way
could she stand up to model standards.
 
That’s why Chloe had Adrien Agreste. And she, well, she had many sexy thoughts
plaguing her of a dripping wet blond male model. It didn’t help that she swore
that she could hear a shower being turned on next door.
 
With a sigh, she gave into her thoughts. The black haired girl reached into her
gray sweatpants. The elastic of them was loose enough to stretch them and touch
herself without having to remove them. Her panties were already wet and she had
to push them down a bit to get her hand inside. When she slipped a digit
between her puffy lips, she found just had wet she had gotten. She squeezed her
legs together and groaned. The blood that wasn’t pooling inbetween her legs
floated up to her cheeks. Marinette gasped, touching her clit. She was so
turned on at the point, she could cum just from this. She cupped her tit
through her clothes, squeezing her nipple. Two fingers rubbed and circled her
little bundle of nerves. She bit her lips, resisting the urge to moan out a
name or make any little noises. She suddenly picked up the speed, her hand
moving quickly under her sweatpants. Her hips lifted up, off the bed. Her mouth
drew in a tight line as she came.
 
She lied in bed for a few more minutes, looking up at the white ceiling. She
felt better, her mind clearer. She’d be lying if she said the stress from the
day was taken out of her, but it took the edge off. Marinette got up quickly to
wash her hand and went she snuggled into the fluffy and clean sheets, still
warm from hers and Adrien’s bodies, she fell right to sleep.
 
===============================================================================
 
In the morning, the young girl woke up to find the avox that had been escorting
her around all day waiting by the end of her bed. The glowing orange of her eye
had Marinette jumping ten feet out of her bed. When her heartbeat calmed down,
she breathed “Sorry! You scared me!” She pushed the covers off of her legs
“What are you doing here? Does Plagg or Alec need me?” She then pinked. Come
on, why in the world was she saying an  avox  questions where the answer wasn’t
yes or no?
 
Luckily, the much more much together girl held up a hairbrush. She tapped the
plastic of it to get her attention.
 
“Oh.. You wanna brush my hair?” Where was the nearest hole that she could bury
her own body in? The self inflicted embarrassment had to end at some point.
 
A sigh left the avox’s mouth. She took hold of Marinette’s shoulder and pushed
her the opposite way. The girl sat down behind her and began brushing her hair.
At first, the avox had been rough about it, getting the kinks out of her hair
but slowly, the brushing turned gentle. They sat quietly for a few minutes
until the avox deemed her hair combed enough. The tribute felt her move off the
bed and to the wall by the bathroom. She had found her sleepwear in the dresser
beneath the TV, but with a few button pushes to the bathroom door, the wall
slid open. Inside the wall was a closet of clothing.
 
Intrigued by what possible designs had been hiding from her in the closet, she
got up, off the bed and stood by the avox “Are these for me?”
 
She nodded, waving her hand to the closet as an open invitation.
 
The smile that dawned Marinette’s face was infectious. The avox turned her head
away from her just so that she wouldn’t be drawn in. The half asian girl began
to pick through, moving clothing in and out of the way. She might have sew
clothes everyday of her life, but this was the higher end stuff, not the
clothes that the commoners of the Capitol wore. This was designed by people
with brand names. Everything was gorgeous and she had never even dreamed of
owning a closet like this. Well, she didn’t own it right now either, but it was
her wardrobe to choose from for now. She had tried on a few different things,
taking her time. She was impressed, but also slightly scared that the Capitol
had so many outfits readily in her size and somehow in her room.
 
She finally settled on an outfit. She wore a red, waist high skirt, a light
blue long sleeved shirt that brought out the brighter color of her eyes with
white flowers decorating it, black stockings, and a set of white, open toed
wedges. She finished it off with a few silver bracelets on both of her wrists.
She looked to the avox “Thumbs up or down?” She asked.
 
The black hair girl looked like she wanted to laugh. Instead she settled for a
small smile and a thumbs up.
 
“Awesome! Thanks.” Marinette went for her scrunches, about to put her hair into
pigtails as she always did but was stopped.
 
The avox shook her head and took the black ties away from her. She pushed her
back onto the bed. Since when were avoxes so bossy? She didn’t comment, just
began to braid her hair into two loose braids on either side of her face. She
had to admit that she liked it. Her hair was getting a little long for just
pigtails, so she enjoyed the new look.
 
She looked in the mirror. Something was missing. Marinette spotted the chinese
box that Tikki had given her. She had had time to sleep about it. Last night
had proven that Adrien had joined with no hesitation, he was putting his trust
in it. Even if she had her reservations about it, she could trust Adrien. So
pulled the picture of her family from where she had kept it safe in her bra and
put it on the dresser by the TV. The avox said nothing about it as she opened
the jewelry box. Inside was a pair of red earrings with black spots. Ladybug
earrings? It must have been a sign, and it matched with her outfit perfectly.
 
As she slipped the earring into her lobes, her blue eyes slid over to the avox
who was standing quietly in the middle of the room “Are we going to be arriving
in the Capitol soon? Is that why you woke me up?” She questioned her, giving
her better questions to ask that could easily be answered with a ‘yes’ or ‘no’.
 
The avox girl shook her head and pointed to the clock by her bed. It was only a
quarter past ten. They wouldn’t be in the Capitol likely for another two hours.
 
“So why did you wake me?” She stood up, blushing when she realized the girl
wouldn’t be able to answer the question.
 
As if she was use to it already, she made a come hither motion and beckoned the
female tribute to follow her. They left her room, heading down the train, back
towards the dining cart where her little incident with Plagg happened. When
they arrived to the cart, she could already hear Alec chatting away to someone.
 
“So on the chariot, you’re going to do a nice big wave, like this- Oh,
Marinette! What are you doing here?” Alec was seated across from Adrien,
stopping half way through a big motion that was likely going to be a way that
Adrien should wave. If the first part of it looked that awkward, she didn’t
want to view the rest of it.
 
She was about to explain that the avox brought her, but the door slid shut
behind her, and she was gone. She shrugged and made up a white lie “I just got
out of bed and thought I’d come to see who was up. What are you guys doing?”
She couldn’t keep the giggle out of her voice. She seriously thought it looked
ridiculous.
 
Alec put his hands on his hips “I’m teaching Adrien what he really need to do
when he gets on the chariot ride. Besides the first viewing of the tributes
getting off the train, it’s the first real action the crowds get to see, so we
have to make the best first impression. Adrien’s got the name, but he needs to
work on getting it into the Games the right way.” The dark skinned man stood
up, grabbing Adrien by the shoulder and pulling him up “Come now, let’s go to
my room and I’ll teach you the rest.”
 
Suddenly, she was acutely aware of the green orbs that had been on her since
her arrival. The part time supermodel was forced onto his feet “Wait, wait,
wait. Shouldn’t you be teaching Marinette too?”
 
“Adrien, sweetheart,” Alec coddled him, brushing away some invisible dust from
his black and white striped shirt “I just know how kind and caring you are, but
I have to perfect you before anything else.”
 
Perhaps if she hadn’t known that Alec’s plan all along had be to send her to
the curb so that he could use all of his so called ‘talents’ to boost up Adrien
in hopes of being picked to become an Escort to a better District, then it
would have hurt. Right now, it just sounded petty and she didn’t have too much
of an interesting learning whatever the hell he was teaching. So she remained
quiet, moving out of Alec’s way as he pulled the much taller blond with him.
 
At the sliding door, Alec found an equally tall Plagg, yawning and rubbing his
eye “What is all this ruckus about?”
 
“Oh! Plagg, perfect timing. Come with me and we can beginning training Adrien
to be the ultimate superstar!”
 
If Plagg wasn’t built as solidly as he was, he would have been dragged along by
the bald man just the same as the poor male tribute in Alec’s opposite hand. He
caught Alec halfway out the door by the wrist and dragged him back in “In case
you failed to remember, but last night I said I was going to help Marinette.
She proved herself to me and you better believe she can kick your ass in wedges
too. If you wanna take Agreste, be my guest, but I don’t feel like repeating
myself, so if he isn’t here right now, he’s not learning a drop from me.
Speaking of drops…” The action movie star looked to the barman, currently
cleaning off the counter top. By the look of the tray beside the bar, he had
just finished preparing breakfast and was cleaning up after himself. On the
large tray was an assortment of food, but if she had any clue what he was
eyeing, it was probably the platter of cheese and the chilling bottle of wine.
She hadn’t seen the man consume anything more than that on the whole trip. She
wondered how in the hell he managed to stay so physically fit on a diet that
would make any normal person fat as could be.
 
Plagg crossed the room, heading right for the platter of cheese, while Alec
followed behind, begging loudly for Plagg to reconsider.
 
The escort had finally released Adrien, leaving the young man by her side. He
rubbed his arm, hissing “Dude has got a pinch worse than my grandmother.”
 
She giggled, a hand covering up her mouth “He is one over the top guy. Are all
Capitol citizens like that?” Realizing what she implied about him, she quickly
amended “I mean, obviously not all of them are- just, it’s a saying.”
 
He shook his head, a grin plastered to his face “No, I get what you mean. And
no, not all of them. It was just the way they were brought up. The fashion
world has a big and  overzealous  feel to it sometimes. I just happen to grow
up with the world’s most reserved man in fashion.” Adrien looked up and down at
her form. At first, she just thought he was examining how the wedges gave her a
few extra inches so that she was standing level with his chin rather than his
collarbone, but as she viewed his outfit, she realized what caught his eye.
They were matching. Embarrassingly so.
 
He had on a black and white striped long sleeved shirt that he pushed up to his
elbows. Around his neck, he had on a black string necklace with a silver coin
attached to the end of it. And he had on red pants with white belt fitting
snugly around his hips, and a matching pair of white shoes.
 
They looked between each other, flabbergasted. Adrien was the first to speak
“Umm, well, at least we’ll look good coming out of the train together, eh?” He
offered.
 
“No! I have to go change. We can’t be matching. What is everyone going to say?”
She reasoned, about to walk out the door when Plagg stopped her.
 
“They are going to notice. Who the hell cares what they say?” He had the whole
platter of cheese in his hand, the opened bottle of wine in the other, and a
sulking escort standing behind him.
 
Adrien’s thick blond brow went up “We’re not suppose to care what they say?
Isn’t that they whole point of this process? Otherwise they might as well
fatten us up night one and throw us in the Arena day two.”
 
“And that is where you would be wrong. There are 24 of you, and good or bad or
goofy, you have got to stick out. With the two of you dressed like that, all
matching like you mean enough to each other to dress the same, it’s cute.
They’ll eat that shit up.” Their mentor took a pause and drank heavily from his
bottle. He set the cheese platter on the table “Let’s sit down. We got another
hour or so and I might as well explain the next steps we’re going to have to
take.”
 
Marinette was surprised by how much Plagg had to teach them, yet it was
obvious. He had been a tribute, become an action actor, and a Capitol
socialite. He had connections, and better yet, he knew how to teach the two of
them attract the right kind of attention.
 
Adrien also had a very interesting folder. It contained the names, faces, and
pages of detail on their everyday lives, including herself. One of the top
things on the page was a whether Adrien should socialize with them and how to
if he did. Whoever made these was way too meticulous for their own good. When
she spotted her own picture, she got curious. She plucked it out from the pile.
 
They had used her picture from her government working license. It was from a
year ago, her hair had been shorter back then and for her picture, she had her
hair up in a bun. Beside her picture was her basic information, but what caught
her eye was what Adrien had been instructed to do.
 
‘Although she will be your district partner, you should maintain a polite
distance. Her statistics indicate that will perform poorly in the Games. If she
were to make it past the bloodbath, it would be wise to use any knowledge that
you gain from her to track her with the other Career tributes and offer her as
a sacrifice. This should solidify your role in their group.’
 
Adrien read over her shoulder and winced “Sorry, Natalie can be a little
harsh.”
She shrugged “It’s okay, I get it.”
 
Plagg stole the paper from her hands “No it’s not okay! Fucking bitch is
savage. Remind me to never meet her.”
 
Even she Natalie’s “savage” notes, Plagg was able to help them sort out those
who could be reliable, and those that you could trust as far as you could throw
them.
 
Alec remained quiet for the most part, still in a foul mood after being told
off by Plagg.
 
Suddenly, the train had been plunged into darkness and the lights inside the
train came on.
 
Their mentor stood up “We’re inside the mountain. We’ll arrive in about ten
minutes to the station. You’ll meet and greet some fans, who have paid an
exuberant amount to see you and the other tributes. Smile, laugh, be witty or
something, just don’t let the reporters run you over. After a few minutes
there, the Peacekeepers will escort you to Prep. Try not to upset the stylists
and Alec will tell you guys how to act on chariot. Try not to fall off.” He
gathered up the jacket that he had hung over his chair at some point in their
long conversation “Be at the end of the train in five minutes. Have fun kids.”
 
The black of the mountain of them faded away. Just outside the windows, the
Capitol came into view. It was a shining city, with the tallest buildings she
had ever seen. Even with how perfect and beautiful it was, it also looked like
a fortress. The shiver of nerves it sent down her body was noticeable. Adrien
stood by her, patting her upper back “Welcome to the Capitol. Come on,” He
beckoned her to follow him towards the back of the train “We can’t leave our
audience waiting.”
Chapter End Notes
     Can anyone figure out who the hell this avox is??? Maybe I'm not
     leaving enough clues. Let me know in the comments!
***** And Her Name is Alya Cesaire *****
Chapter Notes
     Our heroes arrive in the Capitol, and who awaits them there?
See the end of the chapter for more notes
Chapter 7
 
Adrien offered his hand to his district partner but he didn’t think that she
would keep holding his hand. He accepted it regardless, guiding her to the back
of the train. As they made their way to the back, he could see the familiar
streets of the Capitol getting closer. He even noticed a large poster of
himself selling a line of men’s cologne. Advertisements were an everyday part
of his life. The flashing lights, the buildings that were so high they looked
like they could touch the clouds, the sound of the city with people talking and
music and speakers with announcements so loud that he could hear them through
the metal walls of the train. All of that was background noise to him,
something he had easily become accustom to.
 
It was only when they paused in the last train car that he noticed Marinette’s
discomfort. He squeezed her hand and that caught her attention “Hey..” He said
calmly, his voice was louder than the noise, but gentle “Nervous?”
 
She shook her head and played with the edge of her shorts “No, well, kinda.
It’s just so loud here.” She looked around the walls of the train. They would
only block the noise for a little while longer.
 
He smiled and held her one hand in both of his own “Not going to lie, it’s
going to be way louder out there.”
 
“Adrien…” The teen girl gave him an incredulous look “That isn’t very
comforting.”
 
“Hang on, let me finish.” He paused, waiting for her permission to continue
“Okay, it’s going to just get so much louder out there but, you have to just
block it out. Most of what you’re hearing is just background noise. Trust me
when I say that I can understand how overwhelming it can get. One time I was
suppose to present an award at a university. It was some graduate scholarship
my father was giving out. Anyways, all I could hear was the clapping and
talking and the speakers blaring from the announcements and the heat from the
lights and I ended up throwing up and Nathalie had to present the award for
me.”
 
With her free hand, Marinette brought her hand up to cover her mouth, a giggle
still escaped “Seriously?”
 
“Yes, and since I am certainly that you have a bit more of an iron stomach than
I do, I am positive that we can make it ten minutes across the train station to
the Chariot Building. Just smile and try answering the easy questions you get
asked.”
 
With a deep breath of air to fill her lungs, she nodded “Alright, I’ll try.”
 
Adrien could hear and see the train pulling up to it’s stop “Good timing. We’re
here.”
 
The tribute train began coming to a halt. The Capitol’s biggest fans crowded
the station. The only solitude Marinette could see was that two roped off
sections with security officers -oddly enough rather than Peacekeepers- posted
every 20 feet or so. Across the way was another train marked with the District
12 symbol coal miner hats and pickaxes. She could only imagine that their own
train had a needle and thread on it’s side. They had their own second roped off
section and guards and if she peeked her head towards the glass enough, she
could see where the building Adrien had been talking about was. The roped
sections met before heading off into the large doorway.
 
She had still been looking out the window, when the train door was opened. The
blinding white light caught her off guard and she stood at the entrance of the
train, holding Adrien’s hand. Her blue eyes had to adjust to the light, the
flash of the cameras, the excited roar of the crowd. It was all just so loud,
she couldn’t hear herself think. Her district partner squeezed her hand and
tugged her forward. They walked down the ramp and the train closed behind them.
The clank rebounded in her ears. The last thought she had before the crowd
seemingly engulfed her was that she hoped Tikki meant what she said by taking
care of her family picture.
 
They didn’t let go of each other’s hands as they came down the ramp. The
model’s hand got a little sweaty, but she hardly minded. She enjoyed the
comfort of holding onto something to keep her steady. Reporters and fans lined
the ropes, eager to get pictures and video. Microphones were extended to them,
asking questions. They ranged from ‘Marinette, how does it feel to have a
supermodel as a district partner?’ to ‘Ms. Dupain, do you feel like your
partner has an unfair advantage?’
 
A little stunned, she passed on answering the first questions that came sailing
by her head faster than any weapon possibly could. The fight in the arena was
looking much more a appealing by the second. The way to the building looked a
lot longer with a crowd of a thousand faces and cameras turned their way.
Adrien didn’t let her go, keeping her fingers laced together. She couldn’t
imagine how much worse this experience could be if he wasn’t the one by her
side, keeping her grounded.
 
They continued walking and more questions turned to their matching outfits, to
which Marinette answered “It was an accident!” Then there came a giggle and she
was finding herself more at ease and was easily able to add “Seems like great
minds think alike, but fashion minds dress alike.”
 
That had gotten her some positive attention. People were laughing. News crews
were following the two of them walking, asking her small questions about
herself, her home life. She had to repeat answers to some questions but she
didn’t take any mind to it. All the noise of the city, the flash of the
cameras, it was quickly melting into the background. Adrien had been right, it
was all background noise. If she was honest with herself, she was enjoying the
limelight. Even if in the back of her head, she had a nagging reminder that she
only had 15 minutes in the spotlight and then it’d been taken away.
 
The doubt in the back of her mind couldn’t bother her right now. She felt oddly
good at the moment. She never found herself really craving the attention of a
crowd, but she was immersed in a world that she had always dreamed of. In her
world, perhaps in a past life, she saw herself as a fashion designer. She saw
herself as an influential person, running a business, working hard for hours
upon hours to meet a deadline. To stay up late the night before a show to
perfect the last stitches and adjustments to models, all wearing her line.
Whether it was summer, fall, winter, spring, the season didn’t matter to her.
All that ever made a difference was she could change a person’s entire
appearance with just pieces of fabric.
 
Adrien was quiet beside her. If she hadn’t been so easily consumed, she might
have noticed his discomfort. With all her idle chatter and stopping here and
there to take pictures with the fans, she had slowed down their progress
remarkably. The other two tributes from 12 had to wait to enter with them into
the building. Noticing that, she waved goodbye to the reporters and fans (not
her fans of course, just Game fans). She and the tall blond who hadn’t let go
of her hand the entire time met up with the other tributes.
 
The girl rose her brow up, the beauty mark on her forehead accentuated the
gesture “Took you long enough. You enjoy your time in the limelight?”
 
The black haired girl had the decency to blush “Sorry, I just kinda got caught
up talking with people. I really didn’t think everyone here would be so nice.”
 
She seemed amused enough, placing her hand on her cocked out hip, which had a
nice swell to it “Welcome to the Capitol. If you haven’t noticed but our whole
blood, sweat, and tears deal let’s everyone here be nice. My mama and two
sisters sure as hell wouldn’t have to deal with my sass if I lived here. Isn’t
that right pretty boy?” She adjusted the glasses that sat on the bridge of her
nose if only to pointed show that her gaze had shifted to the Agreste boy.
 
She could feel him freeze and see an embarrassed blush brighten on his cheeks.
 
“Nothing to say? Figures. Daddy probably paid you enough to keep your dumb
blond mouth shut. How much are you getting out of this?”
 
“Hey! Don’t talk to him like that!” She took a half step forward towards the
girl.
 
“Girl, don’t play with me. Whether your family is getting paid or not to do
this little show, doesn’t matter. Aren’t you mad?! Look at him! Look at this
shit show and he’s just drinking it in because he knows that he’s daddy’s
little boy-”
 
That’s when she let go of his hand. She marched right up to the girl. They were
about the same height, but that didn’t stop the two of them from trying to puff
their chest out more. She could feel the cameras on her and deadly silence of
the station “He’s not! He’s my friend!”
 
Perhaps it was the steely look in her eyes. Maybe it was how she could just see
Adrien’s hand shake without his district partner to hold it. Something about it
told her an all too real story “Y… Your friend?”
 
“He got picked just the same as us! He’s just as much from 8 as I am! And I’ll
remind you that his mother was among the first of us so before you go spouting
off about shit you don’t know about him, check your facts.” Satisfied that she
had spoken her mind well enough, she turned back to her old friend, extending a
hand out to him “Come on, let’s go Adrien.”
 
From the crowd, something broke the silence: clapping.
 
As Adrien, who was looking up at Marinette like she was the world, climbed up
the steps to her and took her hand, the crowd cheered loudly. The station
echoed with applause and amazed the two friends.
 
The girl with glasses was taken aback. She had never been met with someone who
could throw her off course in just one go. Her district partner had to pat her
shoulder in order to get her moving towards the guards who stood in front of
the doors to the chariot building.
 
The guards allowed the four of them to pass through, opening the doors for them
to step into. The trains left the station, horns blaring as they did. The
crowds cheered. No other trains followed in after they had. It seemed that they
were the last two districts to enter the chariot building, which made enough
sense. District 8 and 12 shared a border and were the furthest away from the
Capitol. And what a final train session it had been. The doors closed behind
them, leaving them in the dark for a moment before the hall lights turned on.
 
The walls were colored in cream and the halls extended out in a T shape.
Sitting on benches on either side of them were four people. From their clothes,
there was no way to tell that they were Capitol citizens. They were dressed in
all black, like stagehands would but from the gleam of the eyes and the wear of
their hands, Marinette knew that these would be their stylist.
 
They each had white cards in their hands, but before the seamstress could try
to decipher what was on it, her district partner was tackled and pulled into
the arms of one of the stylists “Adrien! You’re safe!” He kissed the teen’s
cheeks, praising the gods.
 
The supermodel used his height and long arms to push the man to a distance
“Vincent, please. I just went on a train ride.”
 
“Well, I know that. But look at where you are  mon cher ! Oh, I get dizzy just
thinking  about it. You! In the Games!” He put his wrist to his forehead “Now,
now.” He took a breath, relaxing his over excited nerves. He turned back to the
other stylists, the three of them getting over the shock of Vincent’s sudden
run to the tribute. He gestured over to the smallest of them, a girl with
rainbow colored hair, all tied back with a pink bandana “Mylene, come here.
This one is yours,” He pointed to Marinette.
 
The mini sized stylist approached her, holding her hand out to shake
Marinette’s “I’m Mylene.”
 
“Marinette.” She addressed her, shaking her hand.
 
Mylene held up her white card, her name branded on it “Oh, I know. We’ve been
waiting for you.” Suddenly, she turned the handshake into a sharp pull, tugging
her off the the right side of the hall to the door “Come now, we have a lot to
do to get you ready for the Parade.”
 
“Uh, wait, what about-” She looked back to Adrien, who was getting pulled along
by his own stylist to the left side of the hall. Their eyes met and they were
being pulled apart and it was just like three years ago and she felt a welt of
anxiety come with it. It didn’t help that the District 8 girl was being guided
along behind her into the room with her make up artist.
 
She soothed her “He’s with Vincent. The boys are all taken on the left.” She
opened the door for them, pulling her through and cutting off her vision of her
friend “Besides, me and Vincent have already talked about a great plan to get
the two of you looking perfect for the ride. Something no one has ever done
before!”
 
She spotted the sketchbook in the other girl’s hands and felt more at ease. She
could see the designs peeking out of the notebook, with swatches of fabric as
well. It reminded her of her own pink notebook that she had to leave at home
with all of her other belongings “What did you have in mind?” She asked,
curious mind piqued into finding out what Mylene and Vincent had planned for
her.


===============================================================================
 
 
Two hours of being plucked, preened, showered in water so hot it turned her
skin pink, and then shaved were the worst of it. There wasn’t a hair left on
her from her panty line down. Her pits and leg hair had been lasered off.
According to Anansi -a sub stylist of Mylene’s team- that her hair would start
growing back months after the Games were over, that is, if she made it.
Otherwise, she really shouldn’t worry. Anansi was a towering female and the way
she talked about Marinette and the other contestants left her to feel like she
thought of them as little dolls that she was just playing dress up with. She
was glad that Mylene didn’t leave her for very long alone in her care. The rest
of her team was relatively nice and made the more painful parts of the progress
easy.
 
She hadn’t enjoyed the previous hours of her skin being rubbed raw and clean
and then moisturized, but she had plenty of fun with the time afterwards.
 
Mylene was pleasant, liked bits of idle chatter, but mostly did her work in
silence. She sat across the tribute at her work desk, sewing like a madman
while her team busied themselves working on her nails and treating her hair to
a deep clean. Marinette didn’t think of herself as being very dirty, but with
all the grim they were peeling off of her, she was being to think that she was
wrong.
 
If she was thankful for one thing, it was that Adrien and the other boys had
been separated into different rooms. It seemed like all of the stylists
prefered their models naked until they were sure that they were ready to put on
their costumes. She had kept on a brave face in front of the very much grown
gorgeous  model  and  friend , she had to remind herself of that. But she
didn’t know if she could handle seeing him naked, or worse: him seeing her
stripped down and bare as she was.
 
When her hair and nails, which were painted a soft pink, were dried, Mylene
finally allowed her to put on a robe. The fluffy white feel felt like heaven on
her abused skin. She was also allowed out of the chair that they had been doing
most of the prep work in and she could go join the other tribute girls in the
vibrating chairs. She wasn’t exactly sure what the purpose of a vibrating chair
was, but ‘try something at least once’ was certainly a motto of hers.
 
She sat down, finding buttons all up and down the arms of the chair. She was
just about to press a button to try it when one was pressed for her by a
manicured nail.
 
The chair’s back started to move against her and she nearly jumped out of it
with a yelp of surprised. The same hand caught her shoulder before she could
move out of the chair “Slow your roll and relax.” She eased her back into the
chair. Gentle balls pressed into her back and it actually felt nice. That’s
when she caught the face of the District 12 girl. She hadn’t noticed it before
but her hazel eyes were quite large and inquisitive behind her black rimmed
glasses. Those eyes were pinning her down with a look she didn’t understand
right off the bat “The chairs are a little complicated, but hell, we might as
well enjoy it, ya know?” She chuckled. She took the seat beside Marinette, her
fingers tapping restlessly on the arm, like she was trying to find the right
words “So... sorry about earlier. I didn’t mean to call you guys out like that.
Well, I  did  mean to call out Agreste, but, like you said, I want to get my
facts straight.” She sat up in her chair. She hadn’t even bothered to turn it
on at all. The way she sat towards her and the way she held her hands against
the arm of the chair, she could see this girl in another life with a pad and
pen in hand “So I wanna know, how did you and Adrien become friends so fast on
the train? Why do you believe he’s not just doing this for his dad or for the
show?”
 
She chewed on the inside of her lip. Would it be alright to divulge to this
nameless girl? She didn’t know her at all. Then again, did it matter if she
didn’t? Surely others would soon figure it out enough and tell the whole world
regardless “I didn’t just meet Adrien on the train.” She confessed. Fuck it,
might as well “I met him three years ago before his mother disappeared. We
became friends. I know him, so when I say that he’s not doing this for the
money or fame or whatever else, it’s true. He doesn’t even like talking to live
audiences. He’s probably just as scared out of his mind same as we are. I know
I am.”
 
“Scared huh?” She looked like she would be chewing on the end of the pen if she
could “That’s funny. I don’t think in the 25 years of the Games that I’ve ever
heard someone admit that they’re afraid.”
 
She shrugged “Because there’s nothing very memorable about being afraid.”
 
“No way! Admitting it just makes you so much stronger.” Her hand came up to
squeezed her forearm “I wish I was brave enough to do that. You know, ever
since I got on the train, I promised myself that I wouldn’t try to make friends
on this. But here I am, talking to you already because I don’t know how to keep
my stupid mouth shut. And now it kinda sucks that you’re cool.”
 
When Marinette smiled, it was infectious “You think I’m cool? No way. I thought
everyone in my class was just losing it. You aren’t allowed to too.” Back home,
she had lots of friends, good friends. She didn’t mean to, it always just sort
of happened. Every year she ended up in a class full of people she either never
meant or didn’t really know, and a few weeks into class and they would all hang
out on the weekends. Less and less of her time went into hanging out with her
friends ever since she started working, but she still spoke with everyone in
class regardless.
 
“I’ll be the judge of that!” She finally backed down, leaning back into her
seat and fiddling with some of the settings “Your name’s Marinette, right?”
 
She nodded “Yea, what’s yours?”
 
“Alya. Alya Cesaire.” Just then, her stomach growled “Heh, sorry. I haven’t
eaten since last night. I was too nervous this morning to stomach anything.”
 
The black haired girl agreed “Yea. I hardly ate ether.”
 
Beside the two tributes, a silver platter was brought between them, holding
macaroons. She looked up to see the bright orange eyed avox from the train
holding them up for her. Marinette took a green one from the plate “Thank you.”
 
With her free hand, she touched her forehead and waved her hand in front of her
face until her hand was underneath her chin.
 
Her brow rose up, unsure what that hand movement meant.
 
Alya sat up in her seat, her mouth half full of a macaroon. Her hands came up,
pointing to the avox “You know how to sign?” She pointed her index fingers
together and twirled them around each other.
 
The avox followed up by curling her hand into a ball and nodding it as if she
was knocking on a door.
 
Marinette looked to Alya “Wait, so you can talk to her? How do you know sign
language?”
 
“Sure I can. My father went deaf at a youth age and one of my younger sisters
was born deaf. It’s also pretty useful inside of the mines. The machines can
get really loud sometimes. And since my dad’s a foreman there, everyone around
the Seam kind of picked it up. It’s pretty nifty.” The dark skinned girl turn
to the avox, waved to her then pointed to herself, placed her middle and index
fingers together on both hands and tapped them together before she held one
hand out to her. Her hand tucked into a loose ball, then she opened up her
index and thumb to form an ‘L’, then her index finger went down in place of
holding her pinkie out instead before she returned it to the same position she
had started in.
 
The baker’s daughter watched with avid interest. She of course knew of sign
language, but had never seen it in practice.
 
The avox set down the platter of macarons on a table several feet behind them
before coming back. She repeated Alya’s hands, pointing to herself and tapping
her middle and index fingers together before she signed something completely
different.
 
Alya, thankfully, recited it aloud for her “J- U- L- E- K- A. Juleka? It’s nice
to meet you and thank you for the food.” She tapped her chin before bringing it
out to her.
 
The dark haired avox, who she now knew as Juleka smiled softly and held one
hand in a fist, drew a circle above it with her index and middle finger and
then tapped her fist.
 
Curiosity struck the non signer “What’d she say?”
 
Before Alya could reply, Juleka hands moved. She pointed to Marinette, then
tapped the edge of her hand on the curve of her thumb twice, she then put her
fists, one on top of each the other, twisting them inwards, finally she pointed
to Alya turning her hands back into fists, fingers pointed towards each other.
Her index fingers pointed out, and then she rotated her hand.
 
The other tribute giggled. Marinette was at a loss of words, completely out of
the language group, so she looked to the other speaking girl.
 
Rolling her eyes, she translated “At first she just said ‘Of course’, but when
you asked what she said, she signed that ‘You’re going to get on my nerves if I
keep having to translate for you.’”
 
She had the decency to pink “Sorry!”
 
She shrugged “You’re all good girl.” Out of the corner of her glasses, she
caught her stylist waving her over. She stood up and stretched her arms over
her head “Looks like the show’s calling for me.” Alya took a step back in the
direction of her team, when the District 8 tribute called back out to her.
 
“Hey, I’ll see you later?” She asked, her eyebrow raised. The silent question
of ‘Should we talk later?’ was also raised. In about two weeks, they’d be
entering the arena. Sure, allies could be good but the Games always had a
written understanding that they wouldn’t last for long.
 
While Alya paused, she seemed to be weighing the options. She shrugged “We’ll
see what fate has in store for us. Bye Marinette. Bye Juleka.”
 
The two of them watched her leave before Juleka held her hand out to her
tribute to escort her back to Mylene to see what was in the world she had
planned for her outfit.  
Chapter End Notes
     Thanks so much for the feedback guys! I really do hope that you're
     enjoying this story so far. I have a lot planned and I want to get it
     out to you guys so quickly, but I feel like if I do that, I really
     wouldn't be doing this thing justice. Also, I love basically
     reintroducing characters to each other in this special kind of
     setting. So let me know if I'm actually doing a good job of that,
     okay? >.
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