The Fight Is In Your Blood
.: Prologue II :.

Lately, Seneca Crane had been proud of himself. He'd stood up to the old man (twice now) and survived. He had a wonderful boyfriend of two years who didn't particularly mind if the Head Gamemaker screwed a couple Victors now and then. And, with any hope, the Sixty-Ninth Hunger Games would finally turn the tables on the Capitol. Yeah, life was pretty good.

And now he'd gone and fucked it up like the patented idiot he was.

"Seneca, dear, you have to give me a clue! There's just no way you can expect me to bet on . . . "

Prissy little Malla Medal was on the phone for the third time that day, still complaining about the tribute list. Malla had gained a reputation as the hands-down best investor of the Hunger Games. Somehow, ze just always managed to choose the tributes that ended up in the final three. After many years and investigations, the authorities had reluctantly declared zer an honest individual; ze wasn't cheating.

Well, except that ze was.

What caused Malla to be so lucky, Games after Games, was the fact that — for the rather hefty price of 86,000,000 credits — darling Mr. Crane granted zer with the pre-planned tribute list. The full package came with the males and females from each District, along with their backgrounds, personality traits, appearances, and skills. With all of that, it wasn't particularly difficult to guess which children would end up in the top three.

But this year, Seneca had made the executive decision not to fix the Reapings, and it was coming back to bite him in the ass. Majorly. Because now he was losing Malla.

"As I was saying, honey, I can't support these Games without my usual . . . knowledge. I'm simply unable to find it in my heart to feel for these tributes without knowing about them, you see. And as a result, if you truly refuse to provide me with the list, I shall have to pull all of my funds. And, disheartened as I will be, it is likely I'll convince others to do the same."

Seneca wanted to rip his ears off. Not only would he be deprived of the money he'd come to call his Malla Bonus, but ratings were going to plummet without wealthy sponsors. Nine days into the Reapings, when no one could afford to even send the Careers a cracker, people were going to realize that the biggest names were missing in action.

And he couldn't believe he was hearing this the day before the damn Reapings. Even if he'd wanted to procure a list, it was way too late. He'd already informed the escorts — and the President of Panem — that the Reapings were fair this year. Going back on that would make him both a liar and a fool, two things he had never, ever been known as. He damn well wasn't starting now.

So he performed the classiest act he could think of, under the circumstances. He hung up on Malla Medal.

Not a minute later, the phone was ringing again. He snatched it before the noise imploded his brain, then took a deep breath. When he spoke, he sounded significantly calmer than he was. "Head Gamemaker Seneca Crane speaking; how may I help you?"

"This is Mister Fiori, and I just heard from Malla Medal that — "

"Yes, sir, anything ze told you is likely correct. I have decided that pre-planned tributes will no longer exist while the Hunger Games are under my watch. Therefore, I cannot give you a list because — "

This time, the person on the other end hung up on him.

The last call Seneca accepted that day was from his boyfriend, who also happened to be quite an influential member of President Snow's High Senate.

"Sen, listen. I have really important news."

"If it's about the fucking sponsors, just don't tell me," he replied dully, exhausted. The only thing Seneca wanted to do was drink four bottles of Destiel's best Sauvignon Blanc and forget all about the worst mistake he'd ever made.

For a moment, he deliberated. "Sorry, Sen, but you've got to hear this. The President heard from Speaker Kahle Circe who heard from High Dame — "

"Seriously, Julius. Just . . . don't. I know I fucked up."

"Anyway, President Snow heard from Speaker Kahle Circe who heard from High Dame Anastasia Sorrell who heard from Mister Lione Fiori who heard from Malla Medal that you weren't handing out the tribute list because you weren't fixing it this time."

"I already told him that myself," Seneca answered, recalling the President's knowing smirk and trying to resist the urge to punch the guy's lights out the next time they saw each other.

"Well, now he's pissed off, Sen. He's got that manic glint in his eyes that comes whenever he's thinking of killing someone."

"You mean the same expression he's had every day of his life?"

Julius let out a reluctant laugh. "I knew you had a joke in there somewhere. But, in all seriousness, he is mad. You didn't hear it from me, but the Districts are going a bit stir-crazy. You know how they get out there. And he's worried about rebellion."

Well, of course Seneca knew that. "What do the tributes have to do with that?"

"Well, if ratings go down, that means there are problems in the Capitol. And those are issues that President Snow has to deal with. And those rebels could use all this to their advantage and creep up when we don't expect them, or even try to convert disgruntled Capitol citizens to their cause. Look, I personally don't think it could ever go that far, but . . . I'm really scared for you."

It was so cute, sometimes, how Julius was always nervous on his behalf. But this was not one of those times. "I don't know what you expect me to do, J."

"Find the rebels, put their kids in the bowls! Tell the escorts! You have twelve hours; it can be done!"

"Maybe it could be." Seneca sighed. "But that's not what I want to do."

On the other end, there was a long pause. Stunned silence, probably. "No, Sen. You're kidding. You'd rather him execute you?"

"I truly don't think he'd do that. But if that's what it comes down to, I'll leave. Go into hiding in the Districts like tons of other Gamemakers had to. He'll have better things to do than chase me down."

"Will you . . . take me with you, Sen? You . . . you will, right? Right?"

A grin spread across Seneca's face. No matter what the other Capitolites thought, no matter how many nefarious plans Snow had cooked up, no matter if it meant leaving his entire world behind, Julius Wright would always have his back.

Maybe in return for this, the Head Gamemaker would even stop fucking any Victor over the age of sixteen.

(But probably not.)


However, you amazing people are not Capitolites, and therefore you have access to the tribute list! You can find it at thefightisinyourbloodhg. blogspot. com, with no spaces. I do know that these are extreme first impressions of the tributes. However, it would still mean a lot if you explained in a review which characters are your favorites and least favorites, and why. In fact, if you have time, would you tell me your first impressions of everyone? (Or, if you don't have the time or patience for that, at least let me know what you think of your own character.)