Head Gamemaker, Ventoni Drinkle POV:

My hands slithered along the table, towards the small shot glass of gin and tonic. I didn't need it but my body craved it. I needed the warmth it brought, I needed it to take my stress away. My skeleton-like hands wrapped tightly around the glass as I pulled it towards me, carefully, almost like I was handling a newborn baby and placed my face against its edge.

I half-heartedly watched the bright lights of my kitchen create a shimmering display around the base of the glass, the trance-like dance becoming more viscous when I moved my drink.

I gave a small grunt and brought the glass to my lips and letting the substance flow into my mouth, tingling my taste buds and racing down my throat. I placed the empty glass back down, a dark, blood red stain from my current choice in lipstick.

Sprawled across the table in an unorganized manner, were this year's arena plans. From blueprints of the arena itself to the mutt designs, all deadly and utterly amazing. Well, that's what the President seemed to think at least.

Personally, I thought it was a load of tish tosh. Every year I poured my heart and soul into the Games themselves but Miss President got all the credit. That mixed with the fact that my head could be on the chopping block for something one of those snotty nosed brats did in that arena for something that was out of my control, it puts a girl down.

I was the greatest of my time, I was able to pull off some of the most delicate and mind blowing arena's Panem had ever seen. Some of my ideas were just downright ghastly. However, I was nothing more than a replaceable piece in Panem's chess board. There would always be younger people begging for my job. If I was to go down my assassination, I hoped whoever got this job after me, screwed up on their first try. BAM, a sweet bullet of revenge through the head.

I never had favorites when it came to tributes, not in the conventional way, anyway. I couldn't care what District you came from, how trained you were or even if you had the spunkiest personality of the bunch, as long as you didn't mess up and make me and my creation look bad, you were okay in my books.

Even when the victor emerged, I didn't care, I was always more concerned about the President's thoughts on the arena and the final. The victor could take a dive and leave off the tribute center if they truly desired it. As long as my butt was safe and I kept my job, nothing else around me mattered. Strange, coming from a woman who once worshiped the Games. The job just sucks all the fun out of it.

I looked over to the digital clock on the wall and stuck my tongue out in disgust. Three in the morning, there just wasn't enough time in the day. They expected me to give them the most amazing arena they had ever seen and still expected me to get some sleep. It was a laughable concept.

I turned back to the cluttered breakfast bar and collected my work, not bothering to sort them into order, that could wait until the morning. Days off were not really days off for me, there was always something to do, why not add to it?

I placed them in my leather bound briefcase and shuffled along the marble floor to the door.

I took a few seconds, standing in the doorway, wishing I could go back, give the job up to the next person and escape the hell I was bound to. Then my pessimism made me smile as I turned off the kitchen light, stumbling to the stairs in the dark. My life wasn't the worse it could have been. I had a beautiful family, a nice house and a good pay job, even if it was draining. My life was and will always be better than the sorry, bratty tributes reaped this year. That was always something to smile about.

This is my first SYOT and I am excited to get it started. If you didn't get by the title, this is the 24th Hunger Games, the year before the Quell. EXCITING. I don't really know how these introduction things go but oh well.

There isn't any rules really when it comes to making your characters other than don't make them generic, Mary-Sue is the term. They are not fun to write and judging by reviews from stories with them, they are not fun to read either.

Please try and make them realistic. So no dragon wings shooting out of Miss No's back and no magical hair that tells the future. If you know of a person like this and can prove that they exist outside of fiction then SURE, go nuts.

No submitting in reviews. I personally have nothing against it but everyone knows your character inside and out. It takes a few moments to create and account and you can submit to your heart explodes, never having to worry about your reviewed character being turned down again. I am willing to reserve a spot from a guest reviewer if they are making an account.

And lastly, if you reserve a spot, the place is only reserved for five days. If you don't think of a character and send them in, was there any point reserving the spot?

That's all for now. This is a generic Games because I ain't throwing myself in at the deep end first time. I am happy to answer any questions you may have. The form and tribute list is on my profile.

Happy submitting!