At first, these seem to be ordinary tributes in yet another running of the games. It's just a circus of people and memories, of enemies and allies. Nobody has a sense of right and wrong. In the midst of the killing, the tributes realize one thing- that the Capitol isn't being honest. They do not work of their own free will, they are merely pawns in a game of chance. The have lain the firewood and the flint and the steel. All they need now is the spark. -under revision, apologies for any inconsistencies-