Dahlia never expected to find herself preparing for her own Reaping again, but the odds never were in her favour. Of course, there were other Victors in her district that could possibly be chosen to go back into the Games. But Snow had rigged the Reaping for his own desires once before and Dahlia was sure he wouldn't hesitate to do it again. With this Quarter Quell, he had the opportunity to get rid of all the Victors that could cause him any sort of trouble. This was a chance he would not waste.

Alaric had been very vague with Dahlia in the lead-up to the Reaping. She could tell his mind was whirring like mad but he refused to share any details with her. He had become aloof and distant, always muttering indistinctly to himself. All Dahlia knew was how important the upcoming Games were and how crucial Katniss was to the plan.

Even in what could be their final days alive, the Victors' every decision was still being controlled by Snow. Dahlia was forced to maintain her femme fatale persona right to the very end and Alaric reignited the sword training he hadn't needed to utilise since his own Games. They became mere shells of their true selves, like strangers unbothered by the certainty of death lying ahead.

Standing onstage as a tribute not a Victor would've made Dahlia feel like a little girl again, if it wasn't for the outfit she had been ordered to wear. Once again, there was more skin on display than actual material. Not that the sparkly sheer fabric was covering very much anyway. The top was little more than a flimsy bra held together with a golden metal ring on her chest. The skirt didn't leave much to the imagination and would've revealed her entire lower body if it weren't for the solid black material hugging her hips. As exposed as she felt, she couldn't let her discomfort show for the camera. This was who everyone thought she was. The Black Dahlia is always dressed to kill.

"Welcome, one and all." Magenta's voice is devoid of any enthusiasm as he stands among a stage of people he's known for many years. Things were a lot more personal this year. He felt as though he were saying goodbye to old friends. But he still had a job to do, so he had to remain professional. "As we celebrate the 75th anniversary and 3rd Quarter Quell of the Hunger Games. As always," The normally cheerful man pauses to swallow back his tears. Even Magenta knew the odds weren't in Dahlia's favour. Everyone had a suspicion of who the tribute would be so his words wavered emotionally no matter how hard he tried. "Ladies first."

The crowds are silent as Magenta walks over to the near-empty bowl. He doesn't even put the effort in to produce the name with a flourish. His actions are diluted and hesitant, very unlike his usual behaviour. But still the man persists.

"The female Tribute from District Five, Dahlia Blossom." He announces into the microphone, not bothering to build up to a big reveal. It doesn't come as much of a shock to anyone. Dahlia plasters a confident smirk on her lips, disguising her sorrow under a mask of determination. She struts across the stage like she owns it and stands next to the escort with a triumphant grin. On the outside, it seems that Magenta is more heartbroken than Dahlia, which only means the girl is fulfilling her character. "Isn't that just... wonderful?" Magenta forces the words out with a smile that dulls his eyes. "And now, onto the men." He traipses over to the other bowl as Dahlia looks out to the crowd. She expected to see expressions of relief written all over their faces, but all that is visible is sympathy and rage. "The male Tribute from District Five... Alaric Silvers."

Dahlia struggles to muffle the gasp that escapes her lips as her head turns to look at Alaric. He strides across the stage to join her but Dahlia's eyes desperately dart to the two other men, pleading for any of them to volunteer. They avoid her stare and remain silent. Now her anger kicks in.

"Lovely." Magenta grits out, glancing between the former mentor/mentee duo sadly. "The Tributes from District Five. Dahlia Blossom and Alaric Silvers." Locking eyes with Alaric, the man sends Dahlia a nod of encouragement. It was time to put Alaric's plan into action. "Now, all we need to do is--"

"District Five," Dahlia interjects, addressing the crowd of citizens with a powerful voice that leaves no room to be ignored. "You all believe me to be a heartless killer. Maybe it's true. Maybe it's not... But I will kill for you. I will bleed for you. And I will die for you." Alaric watches his little girl with pride as she recites the rehearsed words with strength and passion. Sometimes one voice is louder than the roar of a crowd. And the call of this Victor will not be ignored. "I fight for those I have lost and those I can yet save. I hope one day, you will do the same. And when the mockingjay sings, your time to rise will come. Power belongs only to those who take it. And history will remember our sacrifices."

It seems the Peacekeepers grow uneasy with Dahlia's speech as they surge forward to yank her away from the microphone. The harshness of her treatment coupled with the inspiring words of rebellion from their Black Dahlia sends the crowd into a riot. They push against the barriers set up to contain them, banging against it like animals in a cage. Alaric just manages to do the Mockingjay salute Katniss made famous to the camera before he too is dragged away.

"The odds are never in our favour!" Dahlia screams out over the yells of the district as the doors are shut behind them. She assumed they would just abandon her and Alaric on the floor like they usually do when Dahlia says something they don't like. Instead, they keep moving along the maze of corridors.

"Straight to the train." A commanding voice barks out as they bypass the visiting rooms for the tributes to say farewell to loved ones. Neither Dahlia nor Alaric had anyone left to wave them off, just each other.

The Peacekeepers had expected the troublemaking pair to put up more of a fight at hearing those words, but they just went along with the soldier's commands. No one would see the subtle smirk exchanged between the two tributes. Alaric's plan to incite rebellion in their district had worked perfectly. District Five would be ready to rise up when the call came.

•——————•°•✿•°•——————•

"What was that nonsense about?" Magenta asks furiously, glaring down at the nonchalant pair relaxing on the sofa. His hands were glued to his hips as he paces back and forth, Dahlia and Alaric's eyes following him in amusement. "'Power belongs to those who take it.' Are you two trying to start a riot?"

"Yes." They reply simultaneously with matching smiles of innocence.

Magenta huffs at the response indignantly, coming to a stop in front of them. "This type of behaviour makes all of us look bad. You are not Victors anymore, you're Tributes." Magenta reminds them sharply, jabbing his finger in their direction to make his point clear. "If you keep acting like this, you're going to get yourselves--"

"What, Magenta?" Dahlia cuts in, pushing herself up from her seat in frustration. The man snaps his mouth shut quickly as Dahlia stares at him expectantly. "Get ourselves what?" She repeats challengingly, her voice low and dangerous as Magenta can do nothing but gape nervously. "Killed? Sent into the Games? It's a bit late for that. We're marked for death, so we might as well fight for freedom while we can."

"We've competed in these Games once before, we know how it works." Alaric points out as Dahlia sinks down next to him. "We aren't clueless kids."

"Well, neither are your competitors." Magenta retorts, perching on the edge of the sofa across from them. "It's a Quarter Quell, Alaric. Everything will be different."

"Dahlia and I are well aware of that." Alaric argues back with a roll of his eyes. "I have everything planned out. I just need to confirm things with Haymitch and we'll be fine."

Dahlia whips round in shock and exclaims, "Haymitch?"

"Haymitch Abernathy!" Magenta gasps out, pressing a hand to his chest as if taking offence to the mere mention of the man. "What help could you possibly need from that raging drunk?"

"That's for me to know and you to ignore." Alaric replies, not giving any information away when there was a possibility that they were being watched. "Now," He declares, clapping his hands together in anticipation as he leans forward in his chair. "Who are we up against?"

•——————•°•✿•°•——————•

"I want you guys to forget everything you think you know about the Games." Haymitch instructs his tributes while pouring himself a drink. "Last year was child's play. This year, you're dealing with all experienced killers."

"All right." Peeta mutters, glancing at a very quiet Katniss who was lazily playing with her food. "What does that mean for us?"

Haymitch strolls around the table to approach the two and responds, "That means you're gonna have to have some allies."

Peeta nods in agreement, trusting Haymitch's opinion completely. "Okay. I think that if--"

"Whoop." Haymitch interrupts, hushing the boy before he can finish his thought. "You're not the problem."

He points down at Katniss who immediately lives up to Haymitch's statement, "No." She refuses stubbornly, shaking her head as she looks up at her Mentor. She'd already had a less than friendly encounter with one Victor, she didn't really want to place her and Peeta's life in anyone's hands but their own.

"Look," Haymitch sighs as he flops into a chair, knowing that convincing Katniss would be the most difficult part. "You're starting at a disadvantage. Most of these people have been friends for years."

"That just puts us higher on their kill list." Katniss protests, remembering the dark gleam in The Black Dahlia's eye.

"Do it your own way, but I know these people." Haymitch explains, looking between the two with a serious expression. "You go it alone, their first move is gonna be to hunt you down. Both of you."

"Katniss, come on." Peeta urges the headstrong girl with pleading eyes. She needed to work with them if they were going to get through this nightmare.

Sighing in defeat, Katniss turns back to Haymitch and asks, "How could any of us even trust each other?"

"It's not about trust." Haymitch answers with wisdom no one would expect him to have. But he and Alaric had been expecting a retaliation against the Girl on Fire. And they had a plan. "It's about staying alive."

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