A/N -

Hey guys, thought i'd start an SYOT because I want to get back into writing fanfic! Won't be able to start writing for about a month or so due to exams at school but I though i should put the form up early so I can get the tributes sorted so I can get writing as soon as exams finish! The form is below, quite a quick one so shouldn't take long. I'll also do something about sponsoring your tributes but i'll sort that out closer to the time!

The form is on my profile, please take a look and submit your tribute

Thank you to the people who have sent me tributes already! Remember people, I need at least some tributes to go into the bloodbath! Please keep sending me your tributes! Anyone who has already submitted their tribute is on the list and got their top choice of district, but there are lots of spots left! Once I have a few more submissions I'll post a list of the current tributes so people can see what is left!

I've heard that often these SYOT forms get removed because they aren't an actual story (yet!) so if this happens don't worry, I've got all the tributes saved so when I re-upload this story you won't have to resubmit them to me!

Just to make sure this doesn't get removed I'll start the story in the capitol a few months before the reapings:

Caesar Flickerman sits opposite me, slouched back comfortably in his seat as if this feels completely normal to him. He shows no nerves although it's his first year as commentator and interviewer for the Hunger Games; he was born to be in the limelight. For me it's different, I'm used to being behind the scenes, never out in public like this. I shuffle nervously in my seat, picking at the garish yellow paint on my fingernails.

"So, Olithea, how does it feel to be the first female head game-maker?"

Such an easy question, yet all the answers I've prepared fall out of my head all of a sudden. I know my face is on every screen around Panem, and I look like a terrified child. I feel like a tribute. I cough to clear my throat and compose my nerves before answering.

"It's a dream come true for any Capitol citizen to be part of the Games. I've been a game maker for the past 3 years but for the President to acknowledge my success and to promote me is more than I could ever have dreamt."

"Your predecessor Alvan is a hard act to follow, it's not easy to forget the Quarter Quell a few years ago that he masterminded. How do you think you can cope with the pressure of that?"

To the rest of the Capitol, Alvan is a superstar; they all think that he stepped down from the head game-maker role last year after realising that he'll never better the Quarter Quell. If only they knew the truth. If only they'd seen the broken man, collapsed on the floor in the President's office begging for the Games to be stopped. Guilt is a rare emotion in the Capitol and not a quality that any game-maker should possess. 23 children died each year, 47 in the Quell, at the hands of Alvan and he'd begun to have nightmares. He claimed that their ghosts were haunting his thoughts. He's not been seen since that day in the President's office, the official story is that he's retired and spends all his time inside, but I have a suspicion that he's joined all the children he killed.

"Well he certainly was a genius, and if I only do half as well as he did then I'll be happy. Let's just say that I have a few tricks up my sleeve, I'm going to make these the bloodiest games yet!"

Think your tribute can survive this threat? Go to my profile and fill in the form (its quite a short one i promise!) and take the challenge! Most spots still open!