HELLO! Welcome to my THIRD SYOT! Man, it has gone by so quickly! So this is All The World's A Stage, I would recommend that if you haven't read Wish Upon A Star that you do, there will be many references to the story throughout this one. If you want to read Time And Memory Warp then be my guest but it isn't necessary.

So my introduction chapters are never actually that long. This will just give you a flavour of what my writing style is like. If you are interested in submitting a tribute, the tribute form will be on my profile along with the tribute list.

So this is the 65th Hunger Games. In my timeline, Finnick won the 64th Hunger Games and so this year, we will see some interesting tributes battle it out for the next title of Victor. There is a Victor blog on my profile if you are interested at looking at my take on the Victors of Panem.

PLEASE NOTE: this is not a first-come first served basis, I will accept tributes whose forms have been fully filled out, who are interesting and unique and who I think can add something to the story. It is preferable if you use a tribute that hasn't been used in another story but I won't check (although if it's a story I have read then naturally I will know)

So I will let you now read the story and it picks up at the end of the 63rd Hunger Games.

Inside his private office, Coriolanus Snow clenched his fist, his teeth gritted as he stared at the screen that was playing the arena disappearing from sight as Aedan O'Hara was lifted from the arena, the latest Victor of the Hunger Games. This wasn't supposed to happen. He was in charge of Panem, he was in charge of everything and he had told, nay he had demanded that Sunshine Odale should win the Games. She was sweet, innocent and unassuming. She had fooled everyone except Snow, who could see what the little girl really was. She would have been the perfect ambassador for his new scheme.

And what had happened? The arena had disobeyed the highest orders. The tributes had disobeyed orders that, admittedly, they didn't completely realise had to be followed. And what was the result? The boy from 4 who had had only moderate success with the Capitolites, who had had received very few sponsors and, from the readings that had been coming from the Gamemakers, he wasn't the most mentally stable tribute, had come out alive. If it was some bad dream, or terrible nightmare, then he needed to snap out of it and get back to reality.

He had to fix this and fast. He picked up the telephone that sat ornately on his desk and rang a number he had used many a time but had heard many different voices on the end.

"Mr. Ridgeway?" His voice was icy cold, his smile fixed on his face. "Come to my office, we have things to talk about."

"Yes…yes President Snow." The stutter, the fear that he thrived off, was evident in the voice as the phone clicked off.

He didn't have to wait long, a President should never be kept waiting and anyone immediately under his command, knew that all too well. The timid knock on the door came mere minutes later and Snow leant back in his chair, a gentle smile playing on his lips. "Come on in Scorpius."

The door opened cautiously to reveal the slight man who was wringing his hands, unsure of what he was going to be faced with, his head bowed. "Good afternoon President Snow."

Snow smiled slightly and nodded to the chair that was sat opposite him. "Sit down Scorpius." The man hurried into the seat, twiddling his thumbs. "Another Games over. Your first."

The man, well barely a boy at just over 29 years of age, smiled ever so slightly. "I hope it was to your satisfaction."

Snow tilted his head slightly, elongating his words further, knowing that Scorpius would merely feel the pain he needed to. "Mr. Ridgeway, why did you not follow my orders?"

Scorpius visibly shuddered, trying to keep his composure. They both knew exactly what Snow was talking about, there was no need to spell it out. "I followed your orders as much as I could sir." He muttered.

Snow leaned forward, resting his chin on his hands and letting his gaze rest on Scorpius. "So why then, if you claim that you followed my orders, did Sunshine Odale not win the Games? Why did a tribute who was not a Capitol favourite and did not gain the sponsors any tribute of his status should have done, win the Games? I had demanded that it would in the best interest of the Capitol and indeed of Panem if Miss Odale won."

Scorpius bit his lip. "I wish I could answer that sir. We gave Sunshine as much as we could without showing the audience that we were interfering. They don't like it when that happens."

Snow sighed slightly. "I do not want to have to get rid of you Scorpius, there is something that I like about you. I will give you one more year Scorpius, to deliver me the best Games you and your team can come up with. This time next year, we will meet again to discuss the result of the Games. And I expect the highest quality next year. I want all the stops pulled out. Do I make myself clear?"

Scorpius nods furiously. "Yes, yes President Snow. I've already begun work on ideas for next year's games."

Snow nodded curtly. "Good day Mr. Ridgeway."

1 year later – the finale of the 64th Hunger Games

My eyes have been glued to the screen that I've been watching with a great sense of impatience for the last week. Is this how Jackson felt last year? Watching me in the final battle of my Games, fighting for my life? I shouldn't be watching this, technically Finnick is Mags' tribute but she wanted my help and help I gladly gave after I found myself with nothing to do. I lost Ria on the third day. It wasn't my fault, it wasn't my fault; I try to tell that to myself every day, I try to ignore the fact that I couldn't bring her home. But we have another hope. We can't give up now. Finnick Odair, the boy I had volunteered to save last year, was now on a rampage, fighting for his own life because he had chosen to do so.

"Come on Finnick, you can do it!" I murmur but I want to shout it as he guards the Cornucopia, readying his trident to fend off the three remaining tributes. They'd be foolish to come anywhere near him, the stunning 5ft 2in boy has been a favourite of Capitol since his arrival and they stand no chance against that trident that he wields. Especially if he is a Capitol favourite, I have heard rumours of the Gamemakers manipulating the Games in certain tributes' favour if they want them to win.

Every mentor this year has gathered in the small room, now that the final showdown is approaching. Gloss stares at the screen, watching his tribute hiding nearby. Haymitch lounges back in his own seat, his eyes on the screen as he swigs a glass of beer, his own tribute has held her own until now and there is nothing we can do. Cecilia sits between me and Haymitch, her nose almost touching the screen as she silently wishes her own tribute to not do what she is doing, going around the back of the Cornucopia to try and catch anyone by surprise. She's a fool to think that Finnick won't hear and kill her in an instant and Cecelia knows it.

You can hear a pin drop in the room as the gator mutts push the tributes towards the centre, forcing them together in a tighter area. This is it, the final showdown that mentors, districts and the Capitol alike wait for. I can barely watch, the scream from District 8 girl as she finds Gloss' tribute is followed by a canon as Cecilia's screen goes blank tells me enough. There is a sympathetic pat on the back for her from Woof who stands beside her.

I can feel the breath on the back of my neck of the other mentors as they watch the big screen where everything can be seen. I still don't feel comfortable with Luisa Laney being here, standing just four tributes away from me. She was the one who killed my sister, she was the one responsible and I've had to sit through this entire show with her. I want to forget, I want to forgive. Haven't I taken my revenge? Haven't I killed the girl from 6, Steph, the one thing that I set out to do when I went into the Games? So why do I still feel uneasy?

A hand slams down on the desk as I hear the unmistakable clink of trident against sword; the two weapons of choice for the two Career tributes as supposedly the sextet from 1, 2 and 4 are now almost officially called. Gloss is angry, I can hear him seething through his teeth and I tear my eyes away from the wall, forcing myself to watch the fight. Haymitch's kid is staying at a safe distance, wise girl. I owe Finnick as much to watch either his final moments of life or his penultimate battle.

"YES!" I can't help but let out a cheer as Finnick swipes away the sword in the other boy's hand and sharply lodges his trident in the throat of the other. I shouldn't cheer over a kid's death, I really shouldn't. But I do. Finnick pushes the boy, who has blood gushing from his throat, off the trident and turns to the small girl who must be 13 or so, they look about the same age, as the canon sounds. He looks at her with almost pity in his hazel eyes before he takes out a throwing knife from his belt in his arena uniform. She tries to back away from him but the alligators are snapping at her heels. She knows it is death or death; she doesn't even have a chance.

Haymitch isn't laughing as he has been throughout the rest of the Games. That guy seriously needs to start watching his liquor consumption or he'll never bring a Victor home to help him. He hiccups slightly, the only sound in the room as Finnick advances on the girl. She looks from side to side, trying to find a space in the gators, trying to look for a way out. But they're both surrounded, she has no weapon and Finnick has killed half of the tributes in the arena. She should be as scared as she looks.

"Please, make it over quickly." She whimpers, her grey eyes closing in terror.

Finnick smiles the smile that has charmed the nation. "It's the least I can do." He murmurs before he throws the trident to her heat, hitting its target. The canon sounds before she can hit the floor from the impact.

Haymitch lets out a string of words that I have only heard from the mouths of the rough sailors in 4. He stands up, shakily making his way over to me before offering a hand. "Congratulations are in order O'Hara, I guess." He murmurs, looking momentarily back at the two black screens.

I nod and take the hand, accepting District 4's second victory in two years. "Thanks Haymitch well played."

He grunts and moves out of the door, the other mentors not far behind him. It's all over for them for another year. Mags offers me a toothless smile and I can't help but smile back. We did it. We brought another District 4 kid back home. What would Dad say? Would he be proud? Of course he would be, he's been at this for years. He'd be more disappointed if I didn't bring someone back, wouldn't he? Another year over, another Games I've fought through as much as the tributes.

Awesome sauce, so there you have it! A little snippet as to how I write my Games. Right, so my tribute form is on my profile.

ALSO PLEASE NOTE: I do NOT accept tributes via review as this violates policies, I will accept tributes through PM ONLY!

As soon as I have a district filled, I will start the Reapings. Although do not expect these to be very fast updates as I am currently on the home stretch of NaNoWriMo, the National Novel Writing Month where you write 50,000 words in 30 days, I hit 30,000 words today so I'm on a roll!

Don't forget to review and submit to see what happens next!

Happy writing,

PenMagic x