She stood in her ridiculous outfit, far different than the form fitting ghost suit she was used to. At least her stylists had pulled back her hair, or rather her tentacles, so they wouldn't be in her face.

There wasn't much that could throw Kerrigan off. She'd been trained to be a killer since she was a child, brainwashed, used in multiple assassinations. She'd been a terrorist and then she'd been corrupted, becoming the Queen of Blades, something twisted and dark who wouldn't-- and hadn't-- blinked at committing genocide.

But through it all, she'd had her telepathic and telekinetic abilities. She'd been in Panem for a few days and the lack of them was still throwing her off. She stood waiting for the countdown to finish but it unnerved her that, despite the people around her, she couldn't read a single one of their thoughts.

But she had a job to do. Survive. She didn't like it. She didn't want to kill (for once). But she didn't have a choice.

When the countdown finished she was off, grabbing a bag and some knives. She didn't need anything more, as anyone who ran into her would find out. She set off toward the building, sure to attract others but if they gave her trouble she would deal with them.