Hunger Games? More Like BS. l l Train Thread Cameo+Clover

It's very odd being in a vehicle going at such a speed. Everything's just flying by as if they were set on fast forward. The streets that Dj's been wandering her entire life flash before her eyes, as if she was already dying and recollecting on all her past memories. Will she be facing her death though? Of course she'd rather stay optimistic, but she's also not naive. She's watched the games just like everyone else, and only one unfortunate child makes it out of there every year.

As for the other Tribute from her district, she's unsure of what to think of him. He sounds confident with his ability to say fuck it to it all, though Dj can't help but wonder if it's only because he's accepted his fate. Least she can be thankful that she doesn't have a wimpy crybaby beside her, or one that appears to want to rip her throat out with his bare claws. Only a carefree attitude that openly admits his hatred for the Panem President, this shall be interesting.

Riches greet them inside of the brightly colored train cart. Foods Dj never even knew existed take over the strong aroma glued to the one next to her, and her mouth waters with desires. What catches her needs first is the fully stocked bar over on the side. "Someone knows how to live it up." She comments lightly to Prism, with a weak grin forming across her face. Guess she's not the only one that knows the right place to start, because he automatically heads to the array of liquors. Gracefully she stands back and observes, never having the opportunity to make a mix drink herself in the past. Seems logical to leave it to a professional.

Shots have always been her only opportunity for a good time. She's never held the money to afford better, even at her most wealthiest states. If the best is going to be offered to her, she's going to take it. And indeed she does as a drink is passed along to her. "Thanks." Her grin strengths as she brings the brim up to her lips for a nice, needed sip.

"So they say. Everyone calls me Dj." She shares with a soft pitch, remaining in disbelief to what's going on. Feels more like a dream then anything. "Nice to meet you to, I guess. Circumstance and all." A shrug comes forth, before she's quietly laughing and shaking her head slowly, eyes staring upon the floor. Soon enough her vision trails back up and settles on the only other one in the cart. "Good job with the drink, nice and strong." She lifts her cup up to his for a cheers. Might as well enjoy this.

There's no point behind dreading what they have in-store. All control was lost the second those two names were drawn from the bowels, and the only power they may have is withered down to a few days. Is it smart to be this careless when they should be preparing? Probably not. But training doesn't begin until tomorrow, and where they're headed everyone is currently partying it up. Why shouldn't they? The celebration is for the Tributes after all. Cheers to potentially never getting drunk again.

Small talk occurs over the half-full drinks, acting as though this was just a special event. Curiously Prism assumes the Redhead enjoys music due to her nickname, and questions her preferred genre. He couldn't be more spot on, picking a subject she can't get enough of.

"I make remixes for a dance group, so whatever puts on the best performance." She shares, a small grin staying upon her face from the topic. They're the only family she's ever had, and that's partially why she's okay with being reaped. As long as it wasn't one of them. "You might of seen one of their numbers. They do flashmobs everywhere. I'm the one behind the music." Her tone has a hint of pride intertwined with her words, knowing very well it might be her only accomplishment in life...especially now.

A large sip is taken instead of a sigh, wanting to stay in this dreamlike state for at least today. "So what's your story? Been mixing drinks for your alcoholic parents since you were six?" She has to joke as her normal self comes more into play due to these drinks. "Kidding." She adds in, not wanting to be offensive in anyway. Just a sprinkle of humor.

The rest of her beverage is downed, and though it was a lot in a small portion, she's craving more. "Any more recipes to share? Might as well try a little of everything while we can." Steadily she travels over to the bar to examine the options, curious to what blends best with what. "And how about that yummy stuff you were smoking on stage? Not like we're going to get into any trouble. Props on that by the way, nice way to go out." A cheeky grin is directed his way before she turns back to the liquors on display. "What can you make with this?" She challenges by grabbing a random bottle of something. She's going to live it up while she can.

This guy is just full of surprises and good impressions; throwing together a delicious cocktail one minute, and acing some compliments at the next. "Why thank you." She replies to his comment about the mob's music being phenomenal, that smirk continuing to stretch out her cheeks just slightly. Plenty of times she's witnessed a man's smooth talk, but Prism has a special skill with his, picking out admirations a normal stranger wouldn't choose. Least they have a smidgen of time to look forward to.

To make things more interesting, she averts over to the liquor station. Seems as though her thing is music, and his is alcoholic beverages, both hobbies that require mixing. Unfortunately his talent requires secrecy, though he's probably only joking along with her. "Really?" She pretends to sound disappointed, laughter shortly ruining it. "Promise to not tell anyone unless I make it back...though I guess it wouldn't really matter then." Dillon then teases, a sly smirk joining along. There's a great chance he has absolutely nothing to worry about, 23/24 to be exact.

With those odds in mind, there's nothing holding them back from enjoying right now. Curiously she watches as he pulls together a new concoction. Never would of guessed even this skill came along with a performance, her eyes following each fancy trick with the bottles while the brew is being put together just right. "Impressive." She admires in a hushed voice.

Just as Prism said; the new beverage leaves a sweet taste on her tongue, yet a small burn down her throat. "Tasty." She smirks back to his wink, before her focus goes off to another mind-altering substance. If there's one thing that's better then alcohol, it's precious weed.

Generously he reveals his stash and takes a large inhale himself prior to passing it along. This time a large grin comes across her feature in return, her fingers wrapping around the pipe like it's as priceless as it feels. "I'm sure you did." She chuckles to his desire of leaving his district with something memorable. She's certainly not going to complain, planting a seat on the couch as well, to fully enjoy this moment. What better thing to do then get comfortable with a bowl, a drink, and good company?

"Thanks again." She lifts up the pipe before taking a large intake, filling up her lungs and holding it in as she passes it back. After a few seconds she exhales and takes a sip of her drink to hold down any urges to cough. Instantly she feels more relaxed. "You're neglecting your story. Must be interesting from what i've gathered so far." There's no telling how long this trip will take. Makes sense to get to know him a bit, just incase one of them do make it back...they can at least let the other live on through stories.

The inhale and smoke is as relaxing as ever. Just going on a small little trip to the Capitol. No big deal if she actually returns or not, and that becomes even more so as she sinks into the couch. There's no longer a care in the world despite their circumstance. All that Dj's aware of, is what's currently going on around her. There's no training to attend to, or interviews to be had, not to mention an arena to enter. Just someone to get to know as the world flies by them.

Silently she listens to Prism's brief words expressing who he's become. It's completely opposite from her life, yet she can somehow relate. Once she held great responsibility only to let people down, she understands what it's like to of felt like a failure. Her eyes gaze upon his permanent scar decorating his arm, the high sensation making her feel guilty when she otherwise wouldn't of so easily. "Harsh." She comments. Hard to comprehend why a simple mistake, one that got him hurt, can sum him up as a failure to his father. Then again that part she doesn't have much experience in.

Her eyes fall upon his again, and then she finally realizes the pipe being passed along. Not too often she gets such a privilege, making her slightly a lightweight. Not so much towards the alcohol though, the one thing keeping her still levelheaded. She takes another hit while listening to his next chunk, speaking of how he's partially rebellious for the exception of raising his younger sister. It's a bitter-sweet story to say the least, though Dj only finds more interest in him because of it.

"Well that's me." It most certainly is.

Makes sense to why he's so good at making drinks now, had the reason and the money. "I can see that." She observes with that high-grin remaining on her cheeks. "Sounds like me. Enjoying yourself in the rebellious way, but still taking care of the youngsters." No point in hiding anything, only one of them will be returning if anything. Her smirk weakens at the thought of that, almost now hating that she's growing fond of him. "There's some little dancers in the group. Can't help but watch after them. Mainly fosters." She shrugs while sharing this information, quickly recollecting her grin to be stronger.

"Guess i'm more of a lightweight with smoking then I thought." Dillon chuckles with a shake of her head, passing his piece back over to him. "My bad."

No concentrating on the dance family she left behind, that'd be a stupid mistake. It's not like they're on this train, about to practically face imminent death. And Dj doesn't see Prism moping about his identical circumstance. Nope, he's enjoying the time he has now, and there's no reason why she shouldn't do exactly the same. As much in the clouds as she already feels, she brings the pipe back up to her lips once it's passed back to her.

Who would actually want to go into the games? And more importantly why is this yearly event so accepted? ~Her stoned mind goes off briefly before she's distracted by a new question. Slanted eyes fall back on him once more, and a small grin quickly follows. She couldn't be more grateful that her district partner appears to have no worry in the world. Out of everything he decides to wonder if she has a singing voice. "I don't think so. Why do you?" She retaliates with as a soft laughter and widening eyes follow in.

Seems like their motive for this journey to the Capitol is to just joke around, and what better way to do it then goofing-around? She's settles it down just a notch though. "I just do the beats. Haven't sang since I was little." She shares, keeping it lighthearted.

Just as always, the aftermath of smoking adds in and Dj finds a small rumble in her stomach. There's food everywhere, and even just before them on the coffee table. Without anymore care she grabs one of the pastries to start picking at. It's rare to get this sort of treat, though she isn't the most unfortunate in the Panem. She's managed to get by. "Guess we should get fat while we can. I always see those poor kids starving after a day." Even if it's the topic they'd rather stay off of, her tone is completely humorous and free.

Plenty of times Dj's encountered a rich boy for an evening, and quite often they were rebellious is some sort of way. But no matter how many beverages and drugs they consumed, or daring activities they've performed, they always remained stuck-up and selfish. Not so much with Prism though. She'll never know if it's due to this occasion, or if this 's always his natural personal. Guess that's the fun of it all...

Such as his ability to take her slightly dark humor as a joke, even deciding that she's right and digs into the sweets himself. "Usually am." Dj continues with the comedy, finding no reason for why she shouldn't do anything else. Have to admit, it's also a lot of fun to be right every now and then.

Since he takes her word, she decides to give the same back. He suggests the pastry that caught his eye first; a red donut with a row of topping options to sprinkle on it. Fingers curl around the edge of seat between them, to lean herself forward and grasp one for herself. She did want to try a little bit of everything, even if the first treat is still sitting in her lap.

A hand falls upon hers only to quickly retrieve back with an apology. Guess that was an accident, especially judging by Prism's brightening face. "It's okay." Dj reassures with a cheeky grin. Her own hand relaxes on his shoulder for a second, just to show him he has nothing to worry over. "Confident when it comes to making drinks, but not touching girls. Cute combination." She compliments to clear the air even more so. "We only have so long to live now, remember? Gotta live it up." He's the one that's been illustrating that so far after all.

There's no longer a choice to be nothing but giddy and relaxed at this point, thanks to the contribution of smoking and whatnot. Would almost be nice if their train cart were to blow up right before reaching the Capitol. Why not go out with a happy sensation, and not the bloody, sober arena....back onto the happy mindset though Dj. A cute boy sits beside her, and they have any luxury imaginable. For right now everything's good.

It's hard not to giggle in response to Prism's stoned rant about not wanting to offend her, and that he considers most of the other girls he's been with hoes. "Sounds like you hold high standards." She has to tease with a grin like none other. Slowly she continues to pick at the pastries in her lap, taking small bites in order to quickly reply if need be.

"So would that make me a hoe if I want to have a fun time?" Dj sarcastically question while that smile still plays on her lips. Even her eyebrows arch upward with curiosity, though she's truly only messing with him. The real test is to see if he also gets that sort of humor.

To keep things light, she doesn't take long to switch the conversation over to something more fun. "Think we can just smoke out the competition?" She turns to another joke, brushing her red hair over one of her shoulders as waits for a reaction. Never too early to think up unrealistic plans, seems to be the perfect mindset to do so. She can't help but chuckle over the idea of last year's tributes suffocating from a thick fog of weed smoke. What better way to go out?