All around Panem people were worrying, or becoming excited. Up in District One young boys and girls were training for the games, adults were either training their children or making luxury goods, excited for the next installment of the Hunger Games.
In District Two it was the same. Teen were training for their big chance at the Games, and preparing exactly how they would be heard over all the others when volunteers were called. People working in the gem mines were also excited- they wanted more entertainment, and the Hunger Games were their main source of it.
Things weren't the same in District Three. The smell of smoke, oil and gasoline penetrated the air- and so did a strong sense of fear. Everyone was nervous, District Three was not a Career district, and did not enjoy the Hunger Games. Parents were hoping their children weren't picked, and the children were worrying about themselves, their friend and their family.
On the shores of District Four boys were showing off and boasting about how they were going to win this year, and the girls were saying they would do the same. They trained as well, and took extra shifts at work just so they could swim and use their tridents and spears more.
In District Five the electricity and power buzzed more than usual. Adults and older teens worked harder to keep their minds off the impending Games, while the younger kids tried to take their minds off it in other ways.
Six wasn't much different. People worried, and tried to take their minds off the inevitable. Two children from their district and the other eleven were going to be thrown into the Arena in two weeks' time. Vehicles were made and shipped out faster, but nothing could take everyone's mind off of what was coming. More death, more blood and more destruction.
The mood was a little different in District Seven. Some people were planning on volunteering, and winning. They couldn't wait for the Games, and a chance at glory. Others were the opposite, they wanted to avoid the Games, delay what can't be delayed, to stop what can't be stopped, but that wouldn't change anything.
An air of dread hung over District Eight. Smoke rose from the factories and people made more clothes. The Hunger Games were drawing near, and the order for clothing materials had shot up, since the stylists needed to make tribute costumes for the opening ceremonies and the interviews. People did anything they could to keep their minds of off why they were making so much. Children played with balls of string and yarn their parents managed to get, older kids occupied themselves anyway they could and the adults worked, for extra money and to occupy time. The Games came ever closer.
The sun beat down on the grain fields of Nine. People collapsed from heat stroke, and others of worry. The Games. Closer and closer they came, and no one could be prepared enough to face death. Especially the children.
In Ten the animals were herded as usual, but even the everyday routine that no one broke could hide the fact that everything would change again. Two more families would soon have to deal with the grief of losing a child while the rest of the district would try to go on with life, and hope that it's not them or their family next year.
Eleven was much the same as Nine. The sun beat down on them as they worked, and no one wanted to think about what was soon going to happen. Every year forced to watch twenty-three children slaughtered on television, and one leave either proud of their deeds or broken beyond repair.
In Twelve, the mood may have been the worst. Twelve rarely had a chance, and only have only had eight victors in the last one hundred twenty-four years, and two of them had been killed in the Quarter Quell following their victory.
In the Capitol the anticipation was building to the bursting point. Escorts were picking out the perfect outfits to wear during the Reaping's, the stylists were sketching up rough drawings of what this year's outfits would be, and the Gamemakers were hard at work putting the finishing touches on the Arena. The President, Cornelia Snow, was finishing up her paperwork and ordering people around. It was still two week prior to the Games, but no effort would be wasted on such an occasion. The Games, she would say, are the highlight of the year. Second only to the Victory Tour a few months later. The rest of the Capitol citizens were a buzz, talking about previous years and wondering what this year would be like.
As the day of the Reaping's drew closer each mood and feeling grew, until the Reaping's finally arrived.
Hello people! Inky here with my new SYOT. So, my last one got deleted (along with many others, apparently) so I'm making a new one, but I'm going to take a few precautions to make this one more legal.
I WILL NOT TAKE SUBMISSIONS THROUGH REVIEWS! If you submit a tribute via review I will ignore you and delete the review. Please PM me your tribute, the form can be found at the top of my profile. Just clicky my name and copy/paste.
The tribute list will be turned into a chapter following this one (the list will still be clear, though). I will update it once a day until we're full.
Just remember when submitting tributes- No Mary Sue's or Gary Stu's, any and all will be ignored, I need at least eight bloodbaths and some brutal Careers. I will only take two regular tributes and two bloodbaths from each submitter. If you have any questions please ask. This footnote will be removed once the list is full.
You want to know what I don't get. Why SYOT's are dubbed as "Interactive" Fan Fic's. An interactive Fan Fiction would be if you submitted a tribute and I asked what everyone wanted to happen and pieced it together. With this, you just give me characters and I created the story. I see SYOT's as a chance for a writer to work with a character they may never have thought of! Mini Rant over.
Anyway, hope you enjoy the story!
~~~Inky