A/N: I've been think about writing a SYOT for a while now... And here I am. I'm Nessie, and quite a newbie when it comes to actually writing these kind of stories, but I'll try my best! If you want to be a part of this journey, then read along and maybe even submit a tribute or two (or three). The form will be on my profile along with the rules.

I'd really appreciate it if together we could make this story happen! :)

Prologue One

The world seemed to fall silent as the twinkling snowflakes descent from the skies, twirling and dancing in the wind before finally landing on the fluffy ground. A soft sigh escaped the woman's lips at the peaceful scenery laid out before her, her forehead pressed firmly against the cold window. The purity of the Capitol clothed in white and silver has always fascinated her. What could be more refreshing than the world coated in a sparkling cotton blanket?

Well, the answer to that question was simple: the world coated in a bloodstained cotton blanket.

She shifted in a more comfortable position on her window seat, a cup of steaming hot chocolate clasped firmly in her thin hands. The memories of last year's Hunger Games were still fresh on her mind. The deaths were far from spectacular, but there were more than a couple of gruesome deaths, and the way the blood of those tributes dyed the snow was certainly a sight to see. Her husband was truly a genius.

She looked over at the man in question; his large form towering over his working desk, his soft features hardened as he looked over the scattered blueprints. She could almost see the wheels turning inside his head.

The majority of the Capitol citizen didn't share her opinion about that Arena. They wanted more bloodshed, not deaths caused by natural causes. The president himself did not like last year's games either. Her husband's life was threatened, along with hers; and that was exactly the reason why he buried himself in his work. He had to design a good Arena this time around. It was his last chance and if he failed, his child will never get to live.

The woman dropped her legs to the floor, and putting her cup to the side, she stood up. She crossed the distance between herself and the man of her life with wobbly steps; it was hard to see where exactly she was stepping with a pregnant belly blocking her sight. Brushing her royal blue locks out of her eyes, she leaned against his desk.

"Do you want some coffee?" she inquired with a tilt of her head, her voice almost a whisper as to not disturb her husband's thinking.

"No," was his curt response. For minutes they stood like this and the woman almost jumped out of her skin when he suddenly dropped down in the nearest chair. He ran his hands through his curly pink hair, a heavy sigh leaving his lips. "We're screwed, Cleopatra. He won't like any of these."

The man scowled at the blueprints in silent anger. She smiled slightly, putting her small hands on his back.

"You can do it, Dragan. I know it. The Arena will be so breathtaking that the president will instantly forget about last year."

"I don't know about that," murmured Dragan. "I've ran out of ideas."

Noticing her husband's uncertainty, Cleopatra shifted her gaze to the scattered papers on his desk; one catching her attention instantly. It wasn't as beautiful as last years, but it had potential. The more she looked at it, the more she liked it.

"What about this one?" she asked, bringing the said blueprint to Dragan's attention. "It's not a deserted landscape like last year; it has resources. You only need to spice things up a bit. Like… you could add a deadlier area around the edges, and the Cornucopia."

He was silent for a couple of seconds, then his eyes snapped to Cleopatra's form; face shining with newfound hope. Dragon pulled her into his lap and kissed her cheek lovingly.

"I love, you know that?" he put his large hand on her belly. "Both of you."

She giggled.

"We know."

A/N: And here we have it guys; a sneak peak into the private life of a Head Gamemaker! Will the president like his idea?Only time will tell.

What do you think about my writing style, is there anything I should change about it? Constructive criticism is always welcome!

Hope you consider submitting!

~Nessie