A/N: This is a multi-chapter fic written for the wonderful Down With the Capitol Authors April Fic Challenge. My challenge: write about District Five. For more info, go to the Down With the Capitol Authors forum. Join the forum and participate if you want! :) Have a lovely day, evening, afternoon, or night.

~DG~

Ten year old Gene Britton was utterly bored. As she twirled her perfectly blond hair and blinked her perfectly blue eyes, she was alone with no one to care that she was. Lynna, the maidservant that normally entertained her, was busy with the big preparations for the mayor's annual Dinner and Dance. It was his yearly campaign for re-election. Of course, Gene knew that her father would never actually be outvoted. The President had himself guaranteed Jack Britton his spot as mayor for lifetime. Because of his unending loyalty and his faithful protection of District Five's most precious secrets, President Gresh had granted him immunity.

Being the dangerously curious child she was, Gene snuck around to her father's quarters, knowing that he was online with the President before the dinner.

"…getting rowdy. Those street gangs have no idea what I've got in for them. Any troublemakers or children found to be away from their parents or from their District-mandated homes shall be severely punished under my new plan."

Gene shuddered as she almost heard the malice written across her father's face when he explained his new regime to the President. He had bragged about it over dinner for the past few nights. Frankly, Gene was surprised he had even taken the time to have dinner with his family. Usually he sent Gene and her five year old brother, Choice, to a separate dining room to have dinner with the servants.

"…sounds just fine, Jack." the President said. "And exactly how many Peacekeepers are we going to need for the new procedures?"

"About thirty or forty, it depends on how many we catch."

"Sounds just fine, just fine. District Two has had some new potential Peacekeepers just itching to get into the field. I have a few in mind for reassignment. Keep doing your job this well, Jack, and you might just get yourself into my personal cabinet." Here, President Gresh gave a booming laugh so loud, that it startled Gene enough for her to run about five feet down the hallway. Once she realized what the noise was, she wasn't sure she even wanted to go back. She turned on her heel and went back to the East Wing.

Not looking where she was going, she ran into a happily skipping Choice. "Oh!" she screamed.

Her father burst out into the hallway, his door slamming behind him. "What's going on?"

"I just…I just ran into Choice." Gene said helplessly, kneeling on the floor to help her little brother, who had bonked his head.

Her father made no move to help Choice, nor gave any indication that he cared they collided. Neither of their parents had wanted kids, so they had them genetically engineered to promote confidence in the District specialty. Gene and Choice were simply "those kids" that walked around the house. Gene was practically Choice's mom.

Jack Britton edged nervously towards the door he had just come out of. "Did you…you didn't hear anything in there. Did you?"

"No." Gene lied effortlessly.

"Good." With that, he disappeared back into his office, where a murmured exchange took place.

"Are you okay, Choice?" Gene kissed the top of her brother's head.

He nodded. "Uh-huh."

"What were you doing down here?"

"Skipping."

"Why down here? We're not supposed to be down here."

"I don't know."

"Go on, skip that way. See if you can find Vernon." Gene sent her brother off towards the servant's quarters, where he would be safe from the eyes of the president and from the disdain of their father. Vernon, the other servant to the children, would be able to aptly take care of Choice.

Gene returned to her room, and wished that when she woke up, she would be in a different family.

Sara frowned at the ceiling when she woke up on a Friday morning. Only one more day of her "school" until the weekend, and she could hardly wait. She was doing the worst school she had ever heard of.

"Blue Greenich!" a woman screamed from down the stairs. "Get down here! You need to walk Pink to school today!"

"Mom, there is no one up here named Blue!" Sara screamed back. Although her given name was Blue, her hair was blue, and her eyes were blue, she refused to be called Blue. It was an embarrassing name, and thank goodness for her "school," otherwise she would have to listen to kids snicker every day as the teacher read off the roll call for "Greenich, Blue? Is that a name? Alright, who's pulling a prank?" And of course, Sara would timidly raise her hand and say "No ma'am, that's me."

"I named you Blue when you came out of your petri dish! And you will always be Blue, no matter how you try!"

Sara huffed and rolled out of bed. Nowadays, she slept in her clothes so she didn't have to change in the mornings. With her long hours, it was hardly worth getting ready in the mornings to get home at seven, eight, or sometimes as late as ten at night.

She remembered to grab her District ID—one time when she hadn't, she had to walk all the way back home. She was late and her instructors thought about firing her from the program. Like they would. She was vital and she knew it.

Ellie poked her head into Sara's room. "Come on, Bl—Sara. I need to get to school today. I really do. Normally I wouldn't make you do this, but Mom…"

Sara held up her hand to her sister. "It's fine, Ellie. I don't blame you. I don't blame you one bit." She emphasized the "you," so Ellie knew she really meant their mother.

As the two girls, one blue and one pink, descended the stairs, they were certainly a sight to behold through their crumbling walls and windows. Sara, with her vibrant appearance, had wrinkled clothes and a just woke up look. Ellie, with her pink hair and pink eyes, was neatly dressed and even did her makeup, which had been delivered after a recently surprising victory of a brutally messed up District Five teenager in the past year's Games.

Of course, they were going to two very different places. After a quick and unsatisfying breakfast from their red-haired, red-eyed, loud and unsatisfied mother, Sara walked her very bright sister to an early school meeting about the year's upcoming field trip to a mutation plant. After a quick signing of a permission form from Sara, who had gotten good at faking her drunk mother's signature, it was off to a very high-security location: school.

Sara was no ordinary child of a drunken mother. Once, her mother had been the richest and most adored child of Generation R, the very first generation able to be genetically implanted with desirable "red" genes, including a special eye and hair gene. After meeting the girls' father, she settled down and spent all of her fortune on two planned genetically engineered children. These two children, originally planned to be a boy and a girl, ended up being two girls. Sara was the unexpected blue girl. However, thanks to some lucky genetic fluke, she had an eye for chemical bonds and gene mutations. She was basically made for work in District Five.

Teachers and superiors quickly took notice of her excelling grades in all subject areas, and just a year ago had removed her from her school. After five years of reeling in pain from her father's suicide, Sara had still managed to stay together and keep her family alive. After this incredible feat, she was transferred to a different location.

Now, Sara was working at the best and most secure Gene Plant in all of District Five. For a while, she worked on basic gene implants and mutations, so that the scientists and scouts from the Capitol could get a good idea of her skill. And currently, they had her working on her biggest project yet. Blue "Sara" Turquoise Greenich was creating the newest, most advanced, most shocking muttations yet for the next Hunger Games. And the worst part of it all for Sara was that her little sister, dressed in pink and frolicking through the hallways of her elementary school, gave her most of the ideas for these terrible, death causing monsters of devastation.

Ellie had a vicious mind not often detected at first sight. Her favorite pastime was watching old Hunger Games reruns on the Capitol Channel every night. She commented on how this kind of mutt could be updated, or what kind of arena would have presented more of a fun show. For a cute District Five girl, Sara believed her sister could have been born into a Career district and been perfect for them. Or perhaps, a citizen of the Capitol itself.

Sara scanned her card and walked through the iron gates. Once inside, she donned her lab coat and began creating code for a new kind of mutt that would keep the colorfully skinned and viciously minded Capitol people on the edge of their seats this year. That night, Sara would dream about the mutts attacking her, and taking her sister to become a Capitol citizen. She would wake up in a sweat, and return to her nightmares after hours of sleeplessness.

Harris and Teeth were sitting around a makeshift fire on the dirty backpacks that they had found in the trash. The whole gang had gotten one each. They were handy, too. It was lucky to just find a bunch of backpacks like that. Probably a school getting rid of unfit materials, but it was still a stroke of good luck. Even luckier still was that they had found this undisturbed place in the woods, just outside of the city limits, but not far enough to reach the District limits.

Muscle, the group leader, walked into the large clearing where they had set up camp for a few days. He grimaced when he saw the two sitting. "Shouldn't you both be finding food?"

Harris smiled. Here, they had outwitted the much older leader. He held up the mildly disgusting bag sitting next to him. "Stuffed this with food we pilfered from a restaurant. Pretended to be looking for our dad and got a bunch of nonperishable stuff."

"Stop using all those big words, Harris. You got 'em from hanging 'round with that girlyfriend of yours, the smarty-pants one." Muscle laughed. "She was a perty one, her."

"Shut up, Muscle." Harris said threateningly. Although they had broken up for her to focus on her studies, Harris was still madly in love with his old girl. And he was the only one who could get away with talking back to Muscle, so he did it.

Teeth smiled, without opening his mouth. After two years, he was still embarrassed about losing some of his teeth in a fight with a rival gang. His old name was Elbow, because of his knobby elbows, and he had never been happy with either name.

Puncher and Crusher, the two chummiest members of the gang, lumbered into the clearing holding a large jug and singing a jumbled version of the Capitol anthem. Quickly, Muscle, Harris, and Teeth jumped on them to make them quiet.

"You idiots!" Muscle hissed. As he looked down at their red noses, and the barrel they were carrying, his fear turned to anger. "You found spirits."

"Noooooo." Puncher dragged out his word in a drunken manner, further proving Muscle's point. As the deputy of the gang, he often slacked, and every other member was used to his recklessness. "I ain't gotten no ghosts, no sirrrrreeee."

"I mean liquor. You're drunk."

Puncher giggled. "Maaaaaaaaybe." His eyes widened and he looked over as Adelina and Knuckles, the two remaining members, joined the events. "Ooh, lookie here, I got myself a laaaaady."

Adelina rolled her eyes. "He's drunk. Let him up and I'll give it to 'im. When he wakes up, he'll puke, and he'll be back to normal. Just induce the passing out thing early."

"I'm all for that." Harris agreed with his sister. The pair of twins, who were the only ones not to take on gang names, often thought alike.

Reluctantly, Muscle and Puncher let the two go. Crusher, who had been relatively quiet apart from a few giggles, had now passed out. But Puncher was still going strong. He staggered over to the angry girl and winked. "Heeeey there."

Adelina pulled back her right arm and swung for all she was worth, making contact with the left side of his head. A satisfying 'clunk' sound was made, and he slowly dropped to the ground, a smile on his face. "Alright, get those two near a ditch or something. I want nothing to do with them." She held her hands up, dusted them off, and went to sit by the fire. "I got a fish." She pulled it out of her knapsack and speared it on a nearby stick.

Muscle wore his usually serious look. "We'll have to split it up. Along with the food that Harris and Teeth got, I found a few bottles with a little bit of water in them, and a chicken carcass." He pulled a few odds and ends out of his bag before the carcass and the bottles appeared. "Oh, plus, this." He held up an unopened bag of chips. Every member's mouth watered. They hadn't tasted a chip that wasn't trodden by a shoe or safe from animal spit in months.

Adelina smiled. "It looks like we've got ourselves a mighty fine feast."

"Amen, pretty laaaady." Puncher commented, and then emptied his guts in a hole dug in the ground.

Adelina rolled her eyes and pulled the fish off of the stick. "No fish for you. You disgust me." Puncher, however, was not awake to hear her comments. He was sleeping by a tree, where he would remain for the rest of the night, secretly dreaming of a home and a family to keep him from the streets.

In a secret room, underneath his bedroom, President Gresh reviewed the standings of District Five. The mayor's plan about to be executed, the muttation program running smoothly, and another election year secured as new, game-changing research was on the verge of a breakthrough.

Yes, this was truly his "pet" District. On his large screen, he swiped the District map from Two and scrolled through until he reached Five. Placing targets on different parts of the city, analyzing potential Games participants—it would be a long and fruitful night. The President would have a dreamless sleep.