Author's Note: Yes, this is an SYOT, meaning that YOU submit the tributes. If you'd like to take part in these Games, feel free to PM me a filled out tribute description form, which you can find on my profile. You may submit up to three tributes, but I will not necessarily choose on a first-come, first-serve basis. Please try to make your tribute stand out.

Happy Hunger Games, and may the odds be ever in your tribute's favor!

Subzero Split: The Story of the Tenth Annual Hunger Games

Prologue: A Year to Remember

Nine years. Faraday Mikkelson tapped the bridge of her hawk-like nose thoughtfully. For nine years it has gone on. That's 207 tributes dead.

She allowed a cruel smile to creep across her face. The people of Panem had, of course, been shocked at the first Games. It had seemed more like an empty threat—for what government could possibly instill such a despicable tradition?—but the Capitol killed twenty-three of their children that year, just as they had promised.

It had been a nasty wake-up call, but still those pathetic districts clung to the hope that surely, certainly such a barbaric practice wouldn't be continued. Their hopes were futile, and nine long years had passed with no sign of relent. 207 deaths that they had brought upon themselves.

Faraday gave a short bark of laughter. The Games would continue for many, many more years if she had anything to say about it.

And as Head Gamemaker, she had quite a bit of say in the matter.

Now she ran her long fingers through her sleek dark hair, lost in thought. The Games were great fun for the Capitol citizens, but in the past few years they had grown rather restless with the drab deserts and forests that served as arenas.

She had a lot to prove, this being her first year, but Faraday wasn't worried. She was going to blow them away, the Capitol and President Stane, and the pitiful little districts, too. This arena would mix things up with a nasty surprise, a reminder that the Hunger Games had lasted for one glorious decade and that they would continue on for as long as the districts could fathom.

Yes, these Games were certainly going to be ones to remember.

Antony Penweather stepped out onto the stage, grinning out at the immense crowd. The spotlights made his shiny silver suit nearly blinding, but the lights quickly dimmed for dramatic effect. The man's curly grey hair sparkled with glitter, and the audience screamed with excitement.

"Ladies and gentleman, allow me to welcome you to our Hunger Games discussion night! As you all know, this year will be the 10th annual Hunger Games, and we're all excited to celebrate a decade of our tradition. First we have the pleasure of speaking to Head Gamemaker Faraday Mikkelson, who will provide us with some insights on what the Games will look like this year."

All across the districts, children gave sharp intakes of breath as the tall, severe woman walked out and sat down across from Antony. This was the woman who, if they went into the arena, would be turning their lives into nightmares. She certainly looked the part, with her dark hair pulled into a tight bun and her black eyes looking out at the crowd in an intimidating glare.

The Capitol citizens cheered dutifully. Yes, this was the person who would be giving them the entertainment they hungered for. Faraday would have a lot of expectations to live up to.

"Welcome, welcome, Faraday! And how are you on this fine evening?"

"Pleased to be here, Antony, and to see all my lovely supporters as well." Faraday plastered a fake smile on as she looked out at the audience.

An evening of useless banter. Protocol required that she come here a week before the Games, but Faraday had never cared much for protocol. Am I here to hype up the Games? Well, they won't need any more hype when everyone sees what I have planned.

"Charming as always, I see." Antony tried to keep any hint of sarcasm out of his voice. "So, we all know that this will be your first year as Head Gamemaker. Can you give us any insights as to how you're planning on designing the arena?"

"Ah, well, I can't give everything away now, can I? Where's the fun in that? But let me just say that I've planned something big for this year's Games. I think the audience will be in for a surprise." She gave them a conspiratorial wink.

"I'm sure we'll all be dying from anticipation in the meantime!" Antony chuckled.

Faraday barely paid attention as Antony peppered her with more questions until their time was finally up and she exited the stage.

"Next up, we have the privilege of interviewing President Stane!" The Capitol citizens didn't have to pretend to cheer as their beloved president stepped into the spotlight, but the districts' people scowled as he came onstage. Dark hair slicked back, he looked rather dashing in a dark suit. He had aged well over the years—but then, it was easy to age well in the cosmetic world of the Capitol.

Faraday nearly dozed off as the two men chatted in an easy manner. Only when Antony asked Stane the final question did her ears finally perk up.

"Fabius, I'm sure we've all noticed that this will be the Tenth Games. What do you think this means for the Districts and the Capitol?"

"Well," the tall man's tone grew more serious, and for a moment his eyes glinted with a wicked light. "Perhaps the Districts thought that Games were only a joke; that we would give them up after the first year. But we have not, and we will not.

"Besides," he added brightly, "they have certainly provided all of us with quite a bit of excitement and fun, wouldn't you say?"

"Yes, yes," Antony hurriedly agreed.

"But." His tone grew darker, and his smile turned predatory. "But I'd like them to remember that the Games will continue for many, many more years. The Capitol keeps its promises."

And all around the Districts, people shuddered at the veiled threat.

The days passed in a blur, and finally the night came. Next morning, the Reaping would finally come upon the children.

Oh, some were excited. But the majority tossed and turned in a sleepless haze, hoping, wishing, praying that their name would not be the one to come out of the bowl.

Many a child wished that night that the time would pass more slowly, that it would freeze. But of course, wishes are empty, and finally, morning dawned.

The morning of the Tenth Annual Reaping.