Aajsklghlaksjd can't believe I got so many submissions. I'm sorry I couldn't accept them all. It was pretty tough choosing who got in. I wish I could please everyone, but I can't. Maybe I'll do a Quarter Quell next time and have twice as many tributes like in the 50th :P Haha, just kidding. That would be way too ambitious. XD But let's not think that far ahead…

Do you want to know how many Bloodbaths I got? Out of the 30-40 that were submitted? …One. I hope some of you won't be disappointed if your tributes are offed early. Oh, also where I said I'd let you pick your romance? Never mind. I have the profiles; I know who wants a romance and who doesn't, so I should be in charge of that. And you can all be surprised. :P

I wrote longer Reapings this time around. I hope you guys don't mind.

District 1

Everything was gone.

The piano, the violin, even the French horn…

"Father!" Saffron wailed, dashing from the music room towards his father's study. "Father, my instruments are gone!" He threw open the door. His father was seated at his desk, writing, looking quite unconcerned.

"I know…" His father said, without glancing at his son, "I disposed of them for you."

Saffron's eyes widened and filled with tears. "But why?" He asked in a wavering voice.

"Because those sorts of petty hobbies are for peasants." His father said quite simply, "You think you can bring honor to this family by playing some fancy tune on a piano?"

"But I like playing piano…" Saffron sniffled in protest, but his father cut him off.

"I've decided that your fate lies with the Hunger Games. When you are 18, you will volunteer. You will win and bring honor to the Le Bel family." He made it sound so simple. But Saffron knew there was no arguing with him.

"Yes, Father." Saffron said, hastily wiping away his tears and exiting the room.

It had been six years since his father had thrown away his instruments. He was only ten years old when it had happened. Ever since he put his fingers to the keys on a piano, everyone had said Saffron was a prodigy. Music was his passion. He thought he would grow up to be a famous musician or composer. But that was never the case.

Saffron had been born into a rich family, one of the richest in District 1. He lived in a mansion with his father, his mother, and his half-brother, Sage. But Saffron's world revolved around his father. His mother stayed confined to her room, suffering from bouts of depression and the many migraines that came with it. His brother was never around, usually off flirting with commoner girls. His lack of presence was no concern. Sage's blood was impure; he was the son of a deceased man of lower class. He was not a true Le Bel, and was hated by his adopted father, who highly favored Saffron. Saffron was the chosen one, the one that would make his family proud.

Overtime, his father shot down many of Saffron's hobbies so that he would focus on the Hunger Games. But he did allow him to raise three white doves in their garden. Saffron cherished these doves.

It was the day of the Reaping, and Saffron was returning home from his morning walk, in which he had graced the inhabitants of District 1 with his presence. He strolled through the gate and headed instantly to the garden, to feed his beloved pets. When he got there, he was shocked to find their cage opened. The doves were nowhere to be found.

No need to panic, Saffron thought, observing it calmly, Their homing instincts will guide them back here.

So he entered his house and went upstairs to prepare for the Reaping. As he was standing in front of a mirror, grooming his hair, his father appeared behind him. Saffron acknowledged his presence with a nod, and returned to his preparations. They stood there in silence for a few minutes.

Finally, his father spoke. "Have you not been in the garden today?"

Saffron froze. "My doves…what have you done with them?"

"Those birds were mere distractions." His father said sternly, "You won't be needing them anymore after today. I realize we planned to have you volunteer at the age of 18, but I don't want you backing out and I certainly don't want to see a commoner steal the opportunity from you. You shall volunteer today, at the Reaping."

Saffron's throat closed with grief. "Yes, Father." He tried to look unconcerned as his father exited the room. Saffron finished getting ready. It was an hour early, but he decided to head to the Reaping anyways.

Before he left, he checked their garbage cans. Sure enough, three limp figures were lying in the bottom of one. Two of them had had their necks wrung. The third's brilliant white plumage was stained red with blood. It must have put up a good fight and met its fate at the edge of a knife. Saffron reached down and gently picked that one up.

To his surprise, it shifted in his hand. Its black eyes opened and shone as it gazed at its owner. He stroked its head with a finger, not caring that his hands were becoming unclean. The dove cooed and gently tweaked his shirtsleeve with its beak. Then it set its head down and closed its eyes. In his hand, he could feel the tiny creature's heart quietly cease beating.

Ravish ran a brush through her silky brown hair, admiring her reflection. Everything was absolutely perfect. Her porcelain skin was flawless and her makeup accentuated her pink lips and big brown eyes. Best of all, she was wearing her favorite red dress. She looked the sexiest she had ever been.

"Darling."

Ravish turned to see her family had gathered behind her, ready for departure. Her sisters, Allure and Desire, were lovely in their blue and green dresses. Her mother fussed with their hair, making sure everyone looked their best. Her father was holding a small, black box in his hand.

"This is for you." He smiled kindly from behind his glasses.

Inside, two diamond earrings rested on a tiny red cushion. "They're beautiful." Ravish breathed, taking out her current earrings to put them on. "Thank you so much!"

"I made them myself." Her father said proudly. He worked as a scientist, converting graphite into diamonds, but he never brought any home for his family. The diamonds were expensive, and were always shipped to the Capitol to be sold. But Ravish was uninterested in how he had managed to come away with these. She accepted them gratefully and hugged each of her family in turn.

"Let's get going!" Her older sister, Allure, beamed, "It's your big day!"

"It is." Ravish agreed, smiling.

Ravish had been selected to train for the Hunger Games at age 11. This was her year. Everyone in the academy had agreed upon it. But Ravish knew that some girls were scheming to steal the opportunity away from her. But if any of them made a move to do so at the Reaping today…well, then the Capitol was in for a good show.

At the Reaping, Ravish bid goodbye to her family and got in line to sign in with her little sister, Desire. "Those girls are talking about you." Desire murmured, flicking her eyes in the direction of a group of 18-year olds.

Ravish could see them out of the corner of her eye. Hands at their mouths as they cast hateful glances in her direction. Ravish shook out her hair and stood a little taller. "This should be interesting." A mischievous smile spread across her face, causing her dimples to appear. Her mother always fawned over how they made her look cute and innocent. She was anything but innocent.

Desire gave a light, appreciative laugh. Then the two parted ways to their respective age sections. Ravish could feel many pairs of eyes watching her. They knew this was her year, but they were planning to steal it away.

Like hell that's going to happen. Ravish narrowed her eyes.

Their fashion-challenged escort took to the stage and tittered on about the Dark Days and the Hunger Games. Everyone was tense; waiting for the moment she would draw the first name. After what seemed like hours, she sang, "Ladies first!" and went to draw a name from the first bowl.

Ravish took a deep breath, preparing to volunteer.

"Posey Gardenia!"

"I volunteer!" Ravish shouted, but her voice was drowned out by excited squeals.

Posey was making her way to the stage, waving like she was some sort of celebrity. She was a tall blonde wearing a tight, pink dress. She was one of the sleazes that had been gossiping about Ravish earlier on. Ravish quickly started to push through the crowd, but Posey's clique blocked her way. This had been planned.

Ravish didn't even hesitate. Her leg was a blur as she lashed out and slid it under the girls' feet, knocking each one of them to the ground. Before they had even figured out what happened, Ravish had leaped over them and was making a beeline for Posey, who was about to scale the stairs and take to the stage…

"Hey!" Ravish snapped. She caught up and grabbed Posey's long blonde hair in her hand, yanking her head back. Posey gave a cry of pain. Ravish was right in her face. "I said I volunteer. Didn't you hear me?"

"No!" Posey hissed fiercely.

"Wrong answer."

She raked her nails down the blonde girl's face, leaving neat red gashes and smearing her make-up. Posey, screeching with rage, tore free and threw herself at Ravish, tackling her to the ground.

"Cat-fight!" One of the older boys declared cheerfully.

Ravish writhed, battering at Posey's stomach with her knees, trying to force her off. Posey gripped her brown hair in both hands and pulled. Ravish threw her head from side to side, trying to break away from her assailant. She could hear excited murmurs emanating from the crowd. Unbearable pain shook the roots of her hair, but she refused to give in.

She reached up and dug her nails into Posey's eyes. Posey howled and drew back, pressing back tears. Ravish shoved her roughly, sending her sprawling onto her back. She rolled the blonde girl onto her stomach and grabbed her arm, twisting it behind her.

"Let's try this again." Ravish said through gritted teeth, as Posey wailed to be released, "I said I volunteer. Did you hear me or didn't you?"

"I heard you! I heard you!" Posey cried hysterically, "Now please just let me go!"

Ravish released her, smiling. "There. That wasn't so hard, was it?"

Posey sniffled in response. Peacekeepers came over and guided her away on shaky feet. Ravish turned back to the crowd of girls behind her and glared at them. Nobody moved. Good.

Ravish paused, fluffing up her hair and smoothing down her dirtied dress the best she could. Then she took to the stage, smiling broadly. The flustered escort asked for her name.

"Ravish Blackwell." She said, sweeping into a perfect curtsy, "I'm honored to be here."

District 1 erupted into applause. Their tribute wasn't even in the arena, but she had already scored a victory. She was definitely one to be reckoned with. Once the crowd had settled, the escort moved on to the boys.

"This year's male tribute is—"

A fight erupted before she could even finish reading the name. A few boys had all darted for the stage at the same time, shouting, "I volunteer!" Now they were brawling in the middle of the two groups of children. Everyone watched with wide eyes. This was the most action-packed Reaping they had had in a while.

Suddenly, a commanding voice bellowed, "Out of my way, peasants!" A tall figure walked right through the fight, shoving the others out of his way. He beat all of them to the stage before they could do anything about it.

Ravish observed him carefully. He was lean and tall, taller than her. He was neatly groomed, with straight, light blonde hair that framed his face. His most defining feature, by far, was his bright, icy-blue eyes. He was handsome in a dignified sort of way, but his face was currently set in a scowl.

"Wonderful!" The escort exclaimed, holding out the microphone, "Please introduce yourself."

The boy cast a withering look towards the crowd, as if he could not be bothered. "What is the point? I have no wish to speak to commoners. Do not think I'm here because I wish to be."

There was a gasp of outrage from District 1. Who was this boy, to call them commoners, when he lived in the same district as them? And if he didn't wish to be there, why would he take the opportunity away from someone who did?

"U-Umm…" The escort stammered, unsure of what to do, "But we just need your name…you don't have to say anything else, if you don't want to…"

"…Saffron Le Bel." He glared daggers at the crowd, almost accusingly.

What is with this guy? Ravish wondered. The name Le Bel sounded familiar. Perhaps she had overheard students gossiping about him in school. She could believe it, considering his attitude…

Well, it didn't matter. District 1 had one tribute that they could be proud of. As long as they had her, they would get a good show.

District 2

It had been three years since that fateful day.

The day Adrenaline had volunteered for the Hunger Games. She was only 14 when she had done so, but she had known she was ready. After all, she had trained her whole life to compete. But District 2 was full of children that couldn't wait to enter the Games. Someone else had taken to the stage, stealing away her opportunity.

But she had been persistent. She had attacked the other girl, screaming that she should relinquish it to her. But this girl refused, saying that it was her last year to compete. Then Adrenaline had shoved her off the stage.

The girl hit her head hard. There was some internal bleeding. They never heard from her again. But Adrenaline didn't get to compete that year; someone else came along to snatch the opportunity away. Luckily, her punishment was minor. She wasn't allowed to have her name in the Reaping for three years.

Her parents had been suspicious at first. Perhaps it was a conspiracy. The Capitol wanted bloodthirsty tributes, but Adrenaline was young. Maybe they wanted her to hold off on entering the Games so that she could grow up and gain more experience. That was the only thing they could think of. Either way, they didn't question it. They were happy to get off easy, even though Adrenaline griped for three years straight about being unable to compete.

Well, three years was up. This was her year, and she would make sure to be in this year's Hunger Games.

"What about Tella?" Arrow murmured quietly, running his fingers through Adrenaline's short, dark crimson hair. "I heard some rumor that she's supposed to keep you from volunteering. Apparently, they'll kill her family if she doesn't."

Adrenaline looked at her boyfriend with wide olive green eyes. "Well then it's a good thing I don't care. Tella's probably spreading lies around so she can claim the spot. But this year, it's mine."

Arrow laughed lightly. "That's what I like about you. You're not afraid to say things."

Adrenaline moved in close and pressed her lips to his. They kissed for a full minute, before she broke away and whispered, "I'm going to miss you, Arrow. I wish you could come to the arena with me but there can be only one winner."

"And it'll be you." Arrow responded, brushing her neck with his lips.

She smirked, breathing into his ear. "That's right. I'll do whatever it takes to win!"

"Even romance another man?" Arrow wondered, trying to look hurt, but he failed miserably and broke out into a grin. They both snickered. They had talked it over. Adrenaline was willing to do whatever it took, even if she had to woo a hapless male tribute. Arrow was completely okay with this, so long as she made sure to kill the boy when she was done using him.

"Well, I'd better go home and get ready." Adrenaline said, rising to her feet. Arrow stood up and wrapped his arms around her waist.

"Good luck," He said, giving her another kiss, "I'll see you after the Reaping."

"In the Justice Building." Adrenaline agreed, eyes shining.

Clang! Clang!

Zane's sword was a blur as he slashed it at his brother. His older brother, Oreon, blocked repeatedly, resulting in a harsh scraping sound. Beads of sweat flew off Zane's face, which was screwed up with concentration.

"Be light on your feet!" Zane's oldest brother, Carter, called.

I am! Zane gritted his teeth in frustration. He poured every ounce of energy into battling his adversary. With a surge of strength, Zane pushed through his brother's defenses. The tip of his sword stopped at Oreon's throat. "There." He panted.

"Good job." Carter smiled, "You're ready."

Zane tucked his sword into its sheath, looking disgruntled. "No, I'm not. That took way too long and I'd be dead if a mutt or another tribute came along during that time."

"Well, there's nothing you can do about it. Today's the Reaping and we'd better get going."

Zane sighed. "No, I have to practice until I get it right."

"You can't be late to the Reaping!" Oreon pointed out, "You're volunteering today."

Zane's heart pounded nervously at the thought of it. Both of his brothers were older than him, and eligible for the Reaping, but their mentors had chosen him. He was stronger and, according to everyone else, he was ready. But Zane couldn't help feel that he was far from perfect.

Still, he allowed his brothers to lead him from the training room. They walked back to their wealthy home together to get prepared. As he took a shower and pulled on a fresh shirt, Zane went over his training in his head, trying to remember everything he had been taught. He still had a few doubts about the Games, but everyone had agreed that this was his year. Zane gazed intently at his reflection in an ornate mirror on a downstairs wall.

He was tall with olive skin—strong, but not overly muscular. He had brown hair and intense caramel brown eyes that were alight with excitement. You can do this! He declared, trying to psyche himself up. You're smart, fast, strong…it's all you!

His parents appeared and started fawning over how handsome he was, but he barely heard them. He just kept thinking I got this! I got this!

At the Reaping, many of his friends began to approach him, congratulating him, as if he had already claimed the spot. He turned to his parents, hugging each of them in turn, and then sped off to talk to his fellow schoolmates.

"Are any of the older boys volunteering?" Zane asked one of his friends.

"I haven't heard anything. Looks like the mentors pretty much sealed the deal for you."

Zane wished he could have had two more years to perfect his training, but that was just too good to be true. He was the chosen candidate.

"How about the female tribute?" He asked, peering at the mass of girls that had accumulated by the stage.

"Umm…I think it's going to be Tella."

At that point, their overexcited female escort took to the stage and told everyone to take their places. Zane stood among the 16-year olds, not too far from his brothers who were ages 17 and 18. The escort flounced over to a microphone and gibbered on about the Dark Days in a squeaky voice. As usual, no one paid any attention until it was time to pick the first name.

"Now for our female tribute!" The announcer gasped dramatically. She snatched up a slip of paper. Just as her lips parted to read it, someone shrieked at the top of their lungs.

"Screw you! I'M VOLUNTEERING!"

Zane spotted a girl with spiky red hair shoving her way through the female tributes. She was of average weight and height, with tan skin and blazing green eyes that dared anyone to challenge her. She seemed vaguely familiar. Ah. Adrenaline Rush. Zane acknowledged. She was a loud-mouthed chick notorious for her odd name and making out with her boyfriend in the school hallway.

Adrenaline went sprinting towards the stage. Halfway there, she stopped and turned around. "Oh, I'm sorry. Tella, weren't you supposed to keep me from volunteering? Said they'd kill your family or something?"

She had honed in on a scared-looking brunette.

"Well go on." She smiled maliciously. "I dare you to try and take this away from me."

Tella was visibly shaking. "Umm…I…" She seemed to be tearing up. All of the cameras were focused on her.

Adrenaline spit at the ground by Tella's feet. "Yeah, I thought so! Hope your family has fun dead." Then she turned away and practically skipped up to the stage.

The escort asked for her name and Adrenaline snatched the microphone from her, screaming, "Don't pretend you don't know who I am! The name's Adrenaline Rush! You thought you could hold me back, but you couldn't—I will be the winner of the 43rd Hunger Games and you will beg for forgiveness for what you have put me through!"

A long silence followed her words. Everyone stared at her, open-mouthed. Then, all at once, they burst into applause. Adrenaline smirked approvingly and handed the microphone back to the escort.

"Yay Adrenaline!" She giggled, a little bit nervously, "Let's see who will be joining you in the arena!"

The audience quieted, eager to find out the name of the male tribute. Once again, before the name on the slip of paper could be read aloud, someone volunteered. Everyone turned to see Zane walking calmly towards the stage, a confident smile on his face. Adrenaline crossed her arms, looking mildly annoyed that her spotlight had been taken away. But on stage, she shook his hand and offered him a mischievous grin.

Hello, my new ally. Zane nodded at her, smirking. Then he turned to the crowd and waved, listening to their applause with growing excitement.

District 3

"Happy Birthday to you. Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday dear Seth…happy birthday to you."

Seth sang quietly under his breath as he tinkered with one of the prototype weapons his parents had discarded. Today, he turned 17. Normally, any other child would be celebrating this with their parents. They were one step closer to being taken out of the Reaping ball. But Seth's parents were never around. Instead of spending time with their son, they chose to work on illegal weapons for the Capitol. But he had grown accustomed to this. He didn't mind. After all, birthdays were nothing special. So you managed to not die for a year—whoop de doo. Not like that's such a great feat or anything.

Well, unless you were chosen for the Hunger Games.

And today was the Reaping. Seth got ready in no time at all, putting on a midnight blue shirt that looked good with his black hair and gray eyes. Before he left the house, he popped his head into his parents' workroom. They were facing away from him, focusing on whatever they were doing.

"I thought you would be interested to know that today is Reaping day." Seth announced quietly. And it's also my birthday.

No response.

"I'll be on my way." Seth hesitated. Still no response.

Just as he went to close the door, his mother said quickly, "Oh! Be right there, hon." As if she had just realized his presence.

Seth didn't wait for them. 'Be right there' usually meant, 'I may or may not take action within the next few hours.' So Seth grabbed his favorite book on Panem history and went to the Reaping by himself.

As he walked, he kept his nose buried in his book. This was his third time reading it. He loved rereading books because he would always catch something he missed the first or second time through. Walking through the town square, he could hear people murmuring his name. His classmates, of course. They didn't approve of him.

Girls usually found him intimidating, with his cold gray eyes set in his pale face, which was usually devoid of emotion. He was tall and thin with straight, black hair that hung in his face. He would usually stare at people, scrutinizing them, but apparently this was frowned upon. Guys always made sure to let him know which of his qualities were lacking.

"Got your nose buried in a book as usual, eh Seth?" A familiar voice snarled.

Seth didn't bother looking up. It was just another one of his nameless bullies, coming by to show how much he cared.

"Why don't you read one that teaches you how to be a normal human being?" The older boy and his cronies guffawed.

Seth didn't respond. My, the Dark Days were just so fascinating to read about. And the book even included a diagram of every muttation that was used by the Capitol back when—

"Hey! I'm talking to you, stupid!"

The book was suddenly slapped out of Seth's hands. It landed with a thud at his feet. He looked at the bullies in surprise. They were laughing uncontrollably, as if this were the funniest thing they had ever witnessed…

Seth bent down and picked up his book, dusting it off. A wry smile formed on his lips. "I'm honored to be the subject of your clever one-liners."

The older boy narrowed his eyes and growled, "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Well, assuming you're informed in the subject of psychology, the male species will often target those that cause them to feel emasculated in order to feel more dominant. It's completely understandable, coming from one in your IQ pool. I'm honored."

With that, Seth turned and walked away, leaving behind some very confused bullies.

"What did he just say?"

Baye was currently walking to the Reaping with her father and her little sister, Leighton. They lived pretty far from the town square and it was a long haul over there. Baye dragged her feet and kept her head bowed, but it wasn't because she was tired.

Her father reached over and gave her shoulder a comforting squeeze. He knew she was thinking about her mother. Their family was originally from District 4. But when Baye was seven years old, her mother died in a boating accident. Life had been a struggle after that. Their house was filled with memories of their mother. Baye never stopped crying. And so her father decided that they had to leave.

They wound up breaking the law by leaving District 4. It was a harrowing journey to District 3, but Baye's father was well prepared, and they made it there in one piece. But District 3 wasn't a very welcoming place. They were lucky to find a home in the poorest part of the district, but people still frowned upon them for being outsiders.

Leighton was completely oblivious to it all. She was only 8 years old, after all, and she didn't remember their mother, or the long journey to their new home. Baye envied her naivety. If I could trade places with you, I would… Baye thought sadly, watching her sister bound ahead her enthusiastically, exclaiming how she couldn't wait to see what the escort would be wearing this year.

But once they came into the town square, she grew somber. The air was heavy with depression. It was time to bid farewell to two more of their own today.

Baye got in line to check in. Leighton joined her. "Leighton, go stand with Dad. You're too young to be reaped."

Leighton looked at her with wide blue eyes. "But I want to stay with you. You look scared."

Baye tried to put on a brave face. "I'm fine. Just go stand with Dad. I'll be back in a bit."

"Okay." Leighton agreed and left to seek out their father. Baye couldn't help but smile a little bit. She was just like their dad, in personality and looks. Baye, however, was the mirror image of her mother, with long, dark brown hair, brown eyes, and freckles. She was fairly tan, too. Her dad was always saying that her mother had a nice tan going, but Baye couldn't be sure. Memories of her had faded over time.

"Hey you!" A cheerful voice snapped her out of her thoughts.

She turned to see Savannah, her best friend in the whole wide world, cutting in line to get to her. She was the only one who accepted her. The only one who didn't care she was from another district and had broken the law by coming here. "Way to cut in line." Baye said quietly, jerking her head towards the long line of potential tributes that had formed behind them.

"Eh. They'll get over it." Savannah grinned mischievously. "How are you doing?"

Baye smiled. "I'm okay. I just want to get this over with."

"We should have a sleepover later." Savannah suggested, "That would be fun."

"Yeah. That would be." Baye agreed quietly.

They stood there in a comfortable silence. That was what Baye liked about her friend. It was never awkward to just stand there with her, not saying anything. Plus, she radiated confidence. It calmed her nerves, and she felt grateful for her presence.

Together, they signed in and went to the section that belonged to the 14 year old girls. Savannah made sarcastic remarks during the escort's usual presentation while Baye tried to keep from laughing. Finally, it was time for the first name to be drawn. The escort snatched up a piece of paper and opened it slowly, for dramatic effect.

"Savannah Jenkins." She announced.

Baye looked at Savannah, horrified. Savannah turned her head slowly, meeting Baye's gaze. "Well…didn't expect that." She said, trying to sound nonchalant. But the fear in her eyes was evident. The Peacekeepers placed themselves on either side of Savannah and began to take her away.

"Wait!" Baye cried out, "Stop! I volunteer!"

Savannah whipped around, looking furious. "Baye, no!" She hissed, "Don't you dare—"

"Take me instead." Baye said firmly, shoving her way towards the Peacekeepers. They looked from Baye to Savannah, unsure of whom to take.

"My name was called. I'm District 3's tribute." Savannah said through gritted teeth.

Baye clenched her fists. "I'll fight you." She said, her voice quavering ever so slightly.

Savannah glared at her. Baye met her gaze. Both wanted to sacrifice their life for the other. Neither was going to back down. After glowering at each other for a full minute, Savannah was the one who surrendered. "Fine."

Looking relieved, the Peacekeepers led Baye up to the stage, leaving behind a frustrated Savannah. They forced her back into line and announced the male tribute.

Seth watched Baye and Savannah argue over who should get to compete in the Hunger Games with interest. He couldn't understand why they would do such a thing.

I wouldn't dare volunteer for that convoluted Capitol hoax of twisted festivities… He thought, that girl must be slightly off-kilter.

Unfortunately for him, Seth wouldn't have to volunteer.

"Our male tribute for this year is Seth Strider."

Seth's eyes widened ever so slightly as the realization that he had been chosen sunk in. Then his face reverted back to its usual emotionless expression as he walked up to the stage. He was still clutching his book, but the escort took it from him, demanding that they shake hands.

Seth looked carefully at the female tribute, scrutinizing her. She held out her hand and he stared at it, unsure of what to do. I think I've read about this behavior before. Isn't it some sort of mating ritual?

Before he had time to consider it further, Baye snatched up his hand and shook it awkwardly. He just looked at her, surprised, and let his hand fall limp in her own.

I suppose I should get this out of the way now. If you hated Hip, you're going to despise Saffron. I apologize in advance if he offends anyone with his tendencies to be a total d-bag. Just remember he's fictional and I don't share any of the viewpoints that he does. Just like how I don't condone guys playing girls like Hip did. I simply like creating jerk characters.