Hello, all. I guess this is where the author's note goes. This is a SYOT so just PM me your character info. The more detailed, the better. Requirements:

Age, Gender, District, Training Score, Favourite Weapon, First and Last Name, personality, etc.

Cheers,

and enjoy,

P.S. The tribute list is in part 3 of the Prologue.

The Head Gamemaker was seated in his office, intensely scribbling in a notebook. His eraser was non-existent; worn down to a nub after hours of continuous use. The paper he was writing on had become a uniform gray, as a result of the thousands of lines that had been erased as quickly as they had been drawn; each line, no matter how big it was, leaving only a small imprint after its departure.

"Much like human lives" the Gamemaker mused. His pencil caressed the paper, tracing the same lines erased moments before, but in a different way barely noticeable to human eye. Finally, after hours of erasing and redrawing, adding and removing minute details, it was finished. It was his masterpiece, his Mona Lisa, but to others, the citizens of The Capitol, it would be known as the arena of the 68th Hunger Games. The Capitolites, he thought, wallowing in a pit of self-indulgence, could not possibly appreciate the absolute wonder of his creation. The Capitolites were beyond pity in his mind, even though he would be considered among their ranks; painted with the same brush as the saying goes. But he was not one of them, nor was he from the districts. He did not believe that he could even be the same species as them, for if Homo sapiens sapiens could happily live their lives as ignorant Capitol gluttons, or willingly let themselves be abused and enslaved like the inhabitants of the districts, then surely they could not possibly grow to become as intelligent as he was. However, before he could dwell further upon the subject, the door to his office opened and President Snow emerged from it.

"Hello, Pravus." he said cheerfully. The Head Gamemaker ignored him, and pretended to add to his drawing- not that it needed anything, he thought, it was perfect in every way.

Head Gamemaker's P.O.V.-

"You realize that if your arena had not been as big a success as it was last year, I would have you shot right now." His voice, even when it was cheerful, seemed like it was laced with poison every time he talked, like a venomous snake preparing to strike.

"Whatever for?" I replied, not even bothering to look up. Lately I've considered his threats empty, even though, more often than not, were not. Especially since when one is threatened on a daily basis, even the effect of President Snow's threats diminishes over time.

"You may be the Head Gamemaker, but that doesn't mean you can just ignore people at will. It's a good thing you excel at your job, because if you were anything less you'd be dead by now." I can tell in his voice that he has little tolerance for me today. I often find amusement in pushing people to their tolerance's limit (their expressions are priceless), however pushing someone over their limit, especially President Snow, can be life-threatening (I speak from previous experience. I still have the scars.)

"Then I will endeavor to continue my excellent work." I say with what I hope looks like a sincere smile.

"You had better... for your own sake." He adds. A long silence passes. He walks across the room and looks at my beautiful creation. The silence is finally broken by Snow, his cheerful (and poisonous) tone now returned to his voice.

"Have you finished the arena design yet?" he says while peering at my masterpiece.

"I've finished the initial design," I respond, "however it still has to be transferred into an electronic format.

"Remind me again why you insist on using paper instead of the design program?"

"The design program is for-" I have to remind myself to refrain from using the term 'incompetent Capitolites'. For some reason most people take offense to that phrase. "-unimaginative people. A good Gamemaker does not require a machine's help with making a glorious creation such as this."

"Hmm... well, no one can say you're not committed." Snow comments. As he starts to leave, he says "I hope I don't need to remind you, but the Games start in three months, and if the arena is not finished, then being shot is the best thing you can hope for." As he walks out, he adds "no matter how glorious the arena is. Good day to you, Pravus."