Ah, yes. It is another of everyone's favorite genre: the submit-a-tribute. I've seen a lot of people doing them and think they look like fun, so I thought I'd give it a try. The tribute form is below, and I'm sure that at this point everyone has seen FoalyWinsForever's advice on how to keep your tribute from being a colossal suebute. If not, check it out. It's also immensely entertaining. I have already had requests for both District 1 tributes, and the little sample below is written in the female's POV. I always want to get a hint of a writer's style before submitting a tribute into their hands, so there's a peek for you.

As I walk out of the training center—sorry, "community center" because we're not allowed to train for the Games—the sun is scorching hot and nearly blinding, which does not help me at all. I'm still sweating profusely from my work out, and I can feel droplets trickling down the sides of my face. Before I can be blinded by both sun and sweat, I wipe my face on my sleeve and duck into the shade. Beside me, Azure is still trying to catch his breath, which gives me a certain sense of satisfaction.

"You only did ten miles today and you're still winded," I say, smiling smugly at him. "You've got to work on your cardio."

"Yeah, well, you've still got to work on strength training. Glamour bench pressed ten more pounds than you," he answers, equally as smug. Part of me was hoping that he hadn't noticed that, but it's probably best that he did. Now he'll push me harder. There's only a week until the reaping, and if I'm called, I won't be outdone by some tribute from another district—or this one, for that matter. I know Azure feels the same way, which makes us perfect training partners.

"Hand-to-hand and weapons tonight?" I ask, though I already know the answer.

"We did throwing knives yesterday. Blow darts and bows tonight?" he answers, not bothering with a time or place because we both already know the answer. His parents have a large outbuilding behind their house that we use for training, which gives us plenty of privacy both from our families and from the rest of the prying eyes in the district.

"Yeah, that works for me. I'd like to work on my grappling, too."

He nods. That's another good thing about Azure. He treats me like a guy—well, I mean, in training. I know that he isn't going to hold back because he's afraid of hurting me or because I'm a girl—woman. He understands that if I go into that arena, no one else in there is going to have mercy on me because I'm female. In there, I would be up against guys and girls who are ready to tear me apart in any way possible. So when we train—be it sparring, weapons, or physical conditioning—we go all out. I can't remember the number of times we've had to make up each other's bruises.

"Alright, then. I'll see you tonight." He accompanies his farewell with a pop on the ass, and roll my eyes. Oh, Azure.

The rest of the day seems to pass so incredibly slowly. Even the gemstones that I appraise, which normally would hold my attention, are boring. My dinner table chat with Mom and Dad isn't as dull as I had expected it to be, mostly because they asked me about my training. When I tell them that I'm meeting Azure to work on hand-to-hand combat, they glance knowingly at each other and tell me to please be careful. I don't bother to remind them that I'll be eighteen next week and very nearly an adult.

I don't think that they're really all that happy when their daughter comes home and has bruises all over her. No matter how many times I try to explain to them that this is my best chance at surviving if I'm chosen, they've never really approved of my training with Azure. I wonder what they would say if they saw some of the bruises that I've given him?

When I show up, I know it's going to be a rough session. "Hey, Tinny. Come into my parlor," he says with a smirk.

"Said the spider to the fly. And it's Satin, not Tinny," I correct.

And then we're sparring. I don't have time to think about much of anything, just react. He knocks me off balance, and then I'm flat on my back and he's on top of me. Before he has time to get situated, I buck my hips and throw him off balance, using the momentum to roll on top. Before he knows what hit him, I've got him in a blood choke.

"Who's the spider now?" I whisper playfully into his ear.

And that was a mistake. I've brought myself into headbutt range, and he hits me square in the forehead. Plain flashes through my skull and then we're off again, rolling around on the floor in a tangle of arms and legs.

By the time all is said and done, I have choked him out three times, more than I ever have before. Usually, we're a little more neck and neck in our sparring, because while he has the weight and height advantage, I'm quicker and better at slipping out of his grip. My satisfaction at beating him in sparring soothes the burn of seeing that he's better than me with blow darts. We're dead equal with the bow.

As we head back inside from our improvised archery range, I know that we're both probably going to need a long, hot shower to work the soreness out of our muscles. This session is by far our most intense session, and I know that we'll both have more than a few new bruises in the morning. But my heart is pounding, the adrenaline rushing, and I just can't bring myself to care.

"That was fun," I say, sitting on the floor to stretch. Azure sits beside me, though I can tell from his careful posture that he's already feeling the soreness.

"For you , maybe. I'll be lucky if these bruises fade in time for the reaping," he replies, though there is humor and a hint of pride in his voice. After all the times that he's beaten me, he's letting me savor the moment.

"Why worry? They make you look dangerous."

"Look dangerous? I am dangerous, thank you very much. I can kill someone with my bare hands. I am dangerous," he says with mock indignation.

"Keep fighting like you did with me, and you'll be getting killed by someone else's bare hands," I tease.

"No," he answers, affectionately smacking my ass as I bend over into a stretch. "You were fierce. Tonight, you weren't going to be denied. Take that into the arena with you, and you'll be unstoppable."

"Unstoppable, huh?" I whisper, pushing him to the ground and climbing on top of him. I squeeze my thighs around his ribs, and immediately he tries to dig his elbows into the pressure point in my thighs. I stop him with a quick, hard blow to the neck, purposefully missing the point that would do any real damage.

The sound that crosses his lips is a cross between a cry of pain and a laugh. When he throws back his head and laughs, he is breathtakingly beautiful.

"You missed the nerve."

"I meant to. The reaping isn't until next week, so I'll need your pretty ass to train with."

"Shower?"

I don't have to answer because he already knows, the same way he already knew about training. I know that both of us like our fun, and that if I were to stop sleeping with him—or if he were to stop sleeping with me—our relationship wouldn't change. What makes us work is that we push each other, that we understand each other's limits, and that we understand that nothing is personal. Everything is to prepare us in case we go into the arena.

Because of Azure, I, Satin Glossamer, will be unstoppable.

So, there you have it. A hint of how I write. I would like to be able to write in the tributes' points of view, which means that I will only accept 12 at the most, and I'll accept the ones that I think are the most realistic and fleshed out. If you want to submit a bloodbath character, that is dandy, just be sure to designate them as BB. Also, please give me some males. I know that like, 99.9% of this site is female, but we do need some testosterone every now and again.

And finally, just a few things about me and my feelings on tributes. I love a good mix of tributes: pretty ones, average-looking ones, and less-than-average ones. I'm not saying that they have to look like Edith Sitwell (look her up and you'll know what I mean. She's like a glorious ostrich in a turban.) but there is something very interesting about someone who has a face that doesn't quite fit together right. Also, please remember that not all characters can have a romance. I mean, I'm open to them when I submit tributes, too, but please please don't shoot me if yours doesn't end up with a romance.

And I think that's all. So please, shoot me a PM with you tribute info and let the games begin.

Name:

Age:

Gender:

District:

Appearance:

Personality: (A string of adjectives does not a personality make)

History/Background/other various relevant information:

Family/Friends:

Strengths/Weapon of choice: (and remember that not all tributes can be invincible.)

Weaknesses:

Career?:

Chosen or volunteered:

Token (optional):

Romance/Alliance:

What song would be playing when your tribute was introduced to the audience?: (This is to help me find some mood and tone for them. For example, a character that enters to Rosemary Clooney's "Dream a Little Dream of Me" is going to vastly different from a character than enters to AC/DC's "Hell's Bells" or "You Shook Me All Night Long")

So, there it is. Create a tribute, have fun, and (as all of these things must end) may the odds be ever in your favor!