Hello, butter-beans. I'm here with the Reapings, which shall be in the Mentor's POVs. The song for this chapter is The District Sleeps Alone Tonight by The Postal Service.

I'm copying the Mentor thingy from quite a few people, so… let's just say I'm copying a Generic Tree Friend.


District One

Sandusky Bremen

I glare at the chattering crowd, grinding my teeth together in annoyance. Why can't they focus? Why can't they be quiet?

Why can't they be like they used to?

The One tributes used to be at the top of the food chain. The best of the best. But now we haven't had a victory in eight years, whereas Two has had three victories in the past ten years.

We're slipping, and Two is taking our place.

The escort, Genescian Hurst, silently slips her hand into the girls' bowl just as the crowd quiets down. At times, I wonder why they don't shove Genescian to a lower district, since she's so placid and obviously doesn't satisfy them very well.

"Eliza Aceveds."

The Eliza girl, whoever she is, doesn't even get a chance to stand before another girl's hand shoots up and screams out, "I volunteer!"

A tall girl begins walking towards the escort, using her hand to brush a dark curl out of her face, revealing a confident smirk plastered on her face. She doesn't look the slightest bit worried, let alone scared.

"What is your name?" Genescian questions in her monotone.

"Annie Faith," the girl spits out, letting out a bitter laugh before turning towards the crowd.

Genescian nods, dipping her hand into the boys' bowl without another word. She reads the slip, before announcing the name into the microphone. "Westin Dillard."

It's almost an exact repeat of what happened with the girls. A boy named Corduroy Mundi volunteers, and wears the same boastful smirk on his face, identical to Annie's. He stands beside the girl, though neither seem to notice each other, both too caught up in their own glory.


District Two

Nichole Maddox

"We'd better not lose again this year," I grumble to myself, picking at my nails. I manage to draw some blood on my index finger, but nothing other than that.

"Ugh," I survey the crowd, my eyes turning to slits when I see the twelve-year-olds giggling. "This is a very serious time. Why are they laughing?"

Allahan shrugs. "Any more goofing off and the Capitol will think we're like the idiots from One."

"I know, I know," I say, glaring at the silly-looking escort. I don't remember her name, and frankly, I don't care. "I mean, we lost last year to Seven. Seven! Granted, the boy was quite handy with an axe, but we could have won that so easily."

I take a few deep breaths, trying to calm myself. Yes, we did lose to Seven, but we've outshined One again and again. That has to count for something.

A little too wrapped up in my thoughts, I don't notice that the Reaping is in motion until a girl screeches, "I volunteer!" and begins her stride up to the stage, her face calm.

"What is – ''

"Veeka Golding," she offers her name.

The escort nods, a smirk blossoming. She reaches into the boys's bowl. "Carver Molan."

A tall, strong-looking boy awkwardly walks up to the stage, glancing behind at the crowd every now and then. He's obviously a Career, with that build, and I doubt anyone will volunteer for someone who looks so prepared.

Once the pair are announced as District Two's tributes, a wiry smile forms on Veeka's lips, and surprise registers on Carver's.

"Do you want Veeka?" Allahan asks me, eyes drilling into the two.

"Yes," I reply, beaming at the thought of working with the girl. A proper Career, a proper volunteer, and soon to be a proper Victor.


District Three

Alston Wyatt

"It's raining." Eliana murmurs.

I pause, before tipping my head up towards the sky. I don't see any rain for a few moments until a droplet lands squarely in my eye. Blinking rapidly, I manage to laugh a little before replying. "Indeed."

Eliana giggles, quite nervously, but doesn't speak any more after that. She's focused on observing our tributes this year, I suppose.

"Hello, hello, hello!" Zae Spalding squeals, beaming at the crowd. He doesn't receive the response he obviously expects, smiles and giggles and such. Instead, the children just stare at him. A very blank stare, like they're thinking of things much too important to respond at all.

Zae smacks his puffy lips together, somewhat irritably. He shoves his hand into the girls' bowl, fishing around for a few seconds before yanking one slip out. Carefully, he unfolds it. "Roryss Belcort!"

Immediately, a clump of girls separate, leaving a pale, blonde girl out in the open. The girl doesn't look very young, and I believe that she's something around seventeen or so. She rolls her eyes before stalking up to the stage, crossing her arms once she arrives there.

Just by her body language, I know I don't want to mentor her.

"Time for the boys!" Zae cackles, quickly grabbing a slip at the top of the boys' bowl. "Klaus Phillips!"

Like with the girls, a group of boys spread apart and stare at one boy in particular. The boy, whom I suppose is Klaus, freezes for a moment. Then, he laughs. He continues laughing for some time, before shouting out, "Holy mother of God!" and pats another boy on the back.

Then, after that little show, he walks up next to Roryss and flashes her a grin. Roryss rolls her eyes once again.

"Can I have the girl?" Eliana asks me quietly. I try my best to look disappointed, though Eliana is probably smart enough to see through it. "Alright."

Eliana seems satisfied with that, and a little smile pops onto her face. I want her to feel comfortable with her pick, like she made the right choice, though I'm positive that I'm better off with Klaus. I've seen many tributes like Roryss, and I know by now that the bitchy tributes are the worst.

I'd choose a weirdo over someone like that girl any day.


District Four

Maximus Dornan

"Think we'll get two volunteers this year, Max?"

I snap my head back up, blinking a couple times to let my eyes readjust. "Ohuh?"

"I said," Linsette draws a ragged breath before continuing, "Do you think we'll get two volunteers?"

I promptly run my eyes over the crowd of extraordinarily eager children, a little bit surprised. Kids from Four aren't usually this excited at the Reaping; they're usually much grimmer.

"Well, maybe," I admit, watching the smug smile form on Linsette's lips. We always bet against each other over if we'll get two volunteers or one reaped and one volunteer, and this year I've decided to go with the half-and-half option. So if we do end up with two volunteers, I'll have to make her a sandwich.

Some people think it's ridiculous that we do this sort of thing. I guess it could seem that way, but we're just trying to find a little bit of fun in this.

"Do you think – ''

"Sh, it's starting." Linsette hushes me, turning her attention towards the escort.

Cera-Fee is her name, though I can't seem to remember her surname. I think she's new. I remember her face, but not from escorting. From… something else.

The woman carefully places her hand inside one of the two bowls, as if it's infested with virus. She gently plucks a slip near the top out of the bowl, and clears her throat while she reads it.

"Jesline Nabbity?"

The way she says it sounds so similar to a question that nobody's quite aware she just reaped someone. All of the girls begin to spread apart to reveal whoever Jesline is until a small voice speaks up.

"I volunteer." I see an incredibly small girl walking up to the escort. She can't be older than fourteen, looking to be around five feet tall and her limbs looking like sticks. Once she's closer towards the stage, I see that her eyes are bloodshot. Not frantic, probably just tired or something like that.

"My name is Lilianna Vansing." The girl speaks before Cera-Fee can question her name.

"I'll take her, okay?" I whisper to Linsette, not waiting for a response. It may be partially because she's a volunteer and there's a good chance that the boy won't be, but there's something about the little girl that just draws me to her. She's… alluring in a way, if that makes any sense.

Cera-Fee nods before quickly grabbing a slip for the boys, ignoring whatever bothered her with the girls' bowl. She opens up the slip in silence, before letting her gaze fall over the crowd. "Trawl Incritus?"

The majority of the kids smile. A few of them laugh, and soon enough one boy is shoved forward, rather roughly.

He's obviously nervous, and the way that the other kids are treating him doesn't make anything better. He glances backwards as a few snicker, and stumbles onto the stage.

Nobody volunteers for the boy, signifying my victory.

Maybe I can even share my sandwich with Lilianna.


District Five

Fleur Marketine

Regilla lets her hand poke around in the girls' bowl for a few terrible moments, until drawing out one slip in particular. She smiles, nodding her head a bit while reading it, before glancing up at the audience.

"Sally Reynolds!"

At once, the girls split apart to stare at an awfully small girl. I would think that she was twelve or so, but her physical qualities are much older than that. Sixteen at the least.

Sally moves forward stiffly, and doesn't even bother to hide the quickly-increasing look of fear on her face. Once she's shuffled onto the stage, her shockingly blue eyes are wide and glassy-looking, like she's in shock.

Regilla observes the girl for a moment with a look of pity, before she reaches into the boys' bowl and snatches up a slip.

"Tobias Evers!"

To my bewilderment, none of the boys shuffle apart. Everyone stays still.

But then I spot a little boy standing by himself, noticeably farther away from everyone else. His eyes are wide open, the fear in them quite protrusive, but manages to keep a calm pace while walking to the stage.

Only then do I see one boy's lips curling upwards into a wicked smile. He waits until Tobias is nearest to him, then begins his short taunt. "Tobias Evers!"

The way that the boy pronounces Tobias's name sounds so strange that I don't understand what I'm hearing for a moment. But then, once I see most of the other kids snickering, I realize that it must be an inside joke of some sort. An inside taunt, really, directed at Tobias.

"Which do you want?" a voice speaks, alarming me a bit.

I turn towards Ryker, pretty surprised that he spoke at all. He's usually just silent. All day, every day.

"Um." I observe the tributes one last time, though I was already sure which one I wanted to mentor. "Tobias, if you don't mind."

"I don't." Ryker assures me, a somewhat sarcastic tone mixed into his voice. I'm sure he's at least a little bitter-minded that I took the taller tribute, even if it's just by a few inches. For some reason, Ryker usually chooses the taller tribute, no matter what.

Come to think of it, this is the first time he's even let me pick my first-choice.


District Six

Ingrid Sallow

"And the lucky young woman representing District Six this year is..." Gary takes a purposely long pause before announcing the name, like he always does, "Emeriday Linzbet!"

The rather large clump of fourteen-year-old girls part through the middle, leaving a petite blonde-haired girl out in the open. She's in a daze of some sort, clearly, since her head is tilted completely upwards, her glare concentrated on the sky. Quite abruptly, the girl drops to her knees, screaming at the sky.

Nobody moves for a solid moment, perhaps out of fear. Two Peacekeepers amble over to Emeriday and grab both of her arms, dragging her to the stage in a brisk fashion.

But once she's reached the stage, the girl has gone silent.

Gary glances over at Emeriday, as if keeping a watch on her, before greedily cramming his hand into a bowl and seizing a slip.

"The fortunate young man representing District Six this year is…" he does the pause, again, "Bentley Tattle!"

Everyone's heads turn to a boy in the very back row, whom I guess is Bentley. He blinks a few times, before he slowly begins making his way over to the stage, examining everyone around him. Once he's on the stage, with everyone's eyes boring into him, Bentley gives a little smile.

"I'll have the boy," Odette states, her eyes fixated on the Emeriday, still being held by the two Peacekeepers, staring mindlessly into the distance.

"So you're leaving me with the crazy?" I groan, narrowing my eyes at Odette.

Odette doesn't respond. Great. I have the freak this time around.


District Seven

Axel Loughty

There's a nervous silence in the air as Habbot reads the slip. Seems like he reads it over again and again, and I'm instantly reminded of my very own Reapings. The last one was just the previous year, after all.

I'm going to be a terrible mentor. I just know it. Eventually, I'll grow into it, but absolutely nobody does a good job their first year.

I pity whoever receives me as a mentor.

"Ameer Maybre." The words snap me out of my thoughts, and I watch as a path clears for a little twelve-year-old. The boy is trembling, maybe even crying, or at least on the verge of it.

"I volunteer!" a frantic cry rings out, and yet another young boy steps forward. He glances at the slightly younger boy, a loving glint in his eyes. The other boy looks a little confused, but seems to accept the situation just as the older boy steps onto the stage.

"Your name?"

"Cecis Jay."

Cecis doesn't look to be related to the little boy in the slightest bit, but that doesn't mean anything. I'm proud of that boy – I admire him, even.

Much braver than I could ever be.

Habbot sends a smile at the boy, possibly to reassure him, before choosing a slip out of the girls' bowl.

"Brynley Heilge."

A horde of girls separate almost instantaneously, and plant their gazes on a very small, pale fourteen-year-old, obviously Brynley. She just stands there, petrified for a few long moments. But then she starts moving forward, slowly but surely, with sad little tears running down her cheeks.

The poor girl. She doesn't meet anyone's eyes, just stares off into the distance. Once Habbot announces Brynley and Cecis as the District Seven tributes, they turn to face each other. I watch Cecis shake her hand gently, and give a small, consoling smile. But Brynley doesn't return it. Looks like she didn't even see the gesture, since her expression is so blank.


District Eight

Zayden Ferrari

"Seraphine Ceren!"

He says it with such enthusiasm, so damn cheerfully, that I can tell it's fake. Same with the outstretched grin that appears once the crowd splits and unveils a redheaded girl, her eyes wide.

She doesn't need someone to push her forward; Seraphine slowly but surely makes her way up onto the stage. Once she's there, she gives a nervous smile, before staring down at her feet.

As expected, nobody volunteers for the girl. Herbert keeps the phony beam whilst plucking out a slip for the male. He unfolds it eagerly, and reads it over a few times.

"Coir Jute!"

A rather husky squeal emits from somewhere deep in the crowd, and I watch as a dark-haired boy runs up onto the stage, out of breath once he's actually up there.

After a little speech from Herbert, Coir and Seraphine shake hands as I turn to Lazaret, who's eyeing the tributes, a calculating glare in the darkness of her eyes. Once the two are already leaving towards the Justice Building, I see that Coir looks elated, bouncing up and down, whereas Seraphine is slouching.

"Take Coir," Lazaret mutters, pointing a pale finger at the boy.

I don't question it, since I know by now that Lazaret prefers the young underdog as opposed to a perfectly able possible-Victor. I always take the latter, and I've suggested to Lazaret that she do the same. That is, after all, how she won the Games at all. With my mentoring.


District Nine

Trent Millian

The grim-faced teenagers stand beside each other, glaring into the cameras with acceptance of the situation just smeared across their faces. Damien has a little bit of anger mixed into his expression, whereas Elimaris looks to be completely accepting of the situation.

I know both of the kids, since I know most of the people in this district. Neither are too friendly, though both are considerably level-headed.

"Vera, who do you want?" I inquire, deciding to let my friend choose her tribute this time around, since she's usually kind enough to give me first dibs.

"Damien," Vera murmurs, abruptly raising her icy gaze to the boy stomping into the Justice Building. "Talked to him before. He'll do good."

I nod, smiling as I realize I have Elimaris. "We have some adequate tributes this year, huh?"

"Very much so," Vera muses, crossing her arms before slouching her shoulders.

"Maybe we'll even have a Victor this year."


District Ten

Hadley Journes

"I present to you… Draven Thayer and Leslie Hawkins."

I perk my head up a little, blinking a few times to get the haze out of my eyes.

I glance over at Furmant, who's staring at the stage with furrowed eyebrows. My gaze follows his, eventually landing on two kids – whom I'm guessing are Ten's tributes this year. There's a lanky, rather handsome boy along with a tall brunette.

"Did I fall asleep?"

"Yes, I suppose so," Furmant replies, smiling softly. "Two volunteers this year. Who would have thought?"

"Are you shitting me?" I exclaim, my eyes widening at the thought of two ready, capable tributes, as opposed to the whining brats we usually receive. Furmant laughs a little, seeming pretty happy about our tributes as well.

I squint my eyes at the two, being led into the Justice Building. "Leslie – all the dead kids in her family, right?"

Furmant nods. "I don't know about Draven, though."

"Then figure it out." I smirk, turning to Furmant. "You can have him. I'll take Leslie."


District Eleven

Byrony Wales

A very little boy named Mouse. Brash and stubborn, from what I can tell. He stomped up onto the stage quite angrily, and pouted while his partner's name, Ivy Jones, was plucked from the other bowl.

Ivy didn't move. She just stood there, hyperventilating, until a Peacekeeper grabbed her and dragged her to the stage. Once she was there, Ivy didn't make a sound. She stared at the crowd, at the cameras, with terror etched across her face, frozen until Mouse made a snarky remark about her obvious fear.

Even then, she didn't say anything. She turned her face to stare at Mouse for a minute before bringing her gaze over to me. And that's where it remains as she and Mouse shake hands.

Her stare is like a knife in my heart, big innocent brown eyes glistening with tears, and I'm going to do my best to help her. Daryl will do the same for Mouse, I know.

"I take it you want Ivy," Daryl speaks, her eyes also boring into our tributes, whom are now shuffling into the Justice Building.

"Yes," I reply quietly. "Are you alright with Mouse?"

"Of course," Daryl responds instantly, "I don't think he's actually a brat. Probably just scared, and that's all he's got to defend himself."

Daryl and I start to stand, about to be sent on our way to the train, yet we continue talking. "They're both scared, I'm pretty sure. Who wouldn't be, coming from their age group and district?" I was terrified when I was reaped so many years ago, and I was seventeen.

Two littlies from one of the lowest districts, one silent and the other a loudmouth. How very interesting this will be.


District Twelve

Ameri Darsley

There's a volunteer, something I don't recall ever happening before.

A very small girl was reaped, probably thirteen or fourteen. Once she was up on the stage, she just fell over.

That's when the older girl came running up, out of breath but with a comforting smile on her face. She hugged the younger girl, and said her name was Kesha Greg. And still she stands with the large grin, beside her district partner.

Rayvon, though I don't remember his surname. He was blank, completely expressionless while trotting up next to Kesha.

He even looked a little bored, unheard of in District Twelve. Usually our tributes are kneeling on the ground sobbing, not smiling or looking calm.

Part of me feels grateful for not receiving two weeping children, getting these level-headed teenagers instead, but another part of me is terrified. I can barely handle two crybabies. I don't want to ruin everything for these two.

But here they stand, right in front of me, both staring into the crowd as the escort dubs them District Twelve's tributes. As the applause weakens, Rayvon marches off into the Justice Building. Kesha blinks a few times before offering another twinkling smile, skipping over to the Justice Building after him.

They're either psychopaths or contenders. Either way, they're screwed with me as a mentor.


Well, that took five-ever. Sorry! D:

Some are super short, I know, but I hate Reapings. Doing it in this format was slightly more enjoyable, but I no like Reapings.

Anywhoodle, I put alliances on the blog because I have zero self-control. Whoops.

Which Reapings stood out to you the most, my ducklings?

Welp, see you in the pre-Games!

~The district sleeps alone tonight after the bars turn out their lights, and send the autos swerving into the loneliest evening. And I am finally seeing why I was the one worth leaving~

The District Sleeps Alone Tonight by The Postal Service