A/N Submissions have been largely slow… right now, I just need the District One Male and the District Two Female so that I can begin writing the Non-Reapings…. C'mon. Meanwhile, here are two POVs of characters that may or may not seem familiar to you.

Wow… I sound dry. It's probably a result of sleep deprivation.

Alexander Sierra, 17, District One

Brother of Aria Sierra, deceased District One Female in the 998th Hunger Games

I bang my fist on the wooden desk. I hate this. After I couldn't take training anymore, Dad thought that I would be more suited to an office life. He couldn't be more wrong. I tug at my tie. Ugh, it's so uncomfortable. I hate wearing these clothes. I need a break. I get up and leave the small office.

I hear footsteps behind me as I storm down the hall.

"Alexander, stop," a commanding voice says.

I turn around to face Dad. I learned from a small age never to ignore him, and I'm not changing that now.

"Where are you going," he says.

"To get a breath of fresh air," I reply.

"You've been getting a lot of that recently," he comments.

"I'm sorry, but I can't stay cooped up in the office when-"

"Let's talk somewhere else," he says, glancing around the hall. But why? Is he scared of something? "We'll go home for lunch today."

I follow him down the stairs and out the door of his office building into the wide parking lot. It's the middle of the day, and no one is out. No one except us.

"Alex, what's wrong," Dad says.

I take a deep breath. "I hate this life," I say, "I hate sitting in that claustrophobic room all day."

"Why?"

"Well," I say, trying to put the right words together, "It doesn't feel right."

"Feel right?"

"Yeah, like… like… I don't know how to put it."

"Like there are better things you should be doing with your time?"

"Yeah," I say, "That sounds about right. The Capitol has taken too much from us. I should be doing something to stop it."

He sighs, and his eyes look away from me for a moment before they return to meet mine. "Look, Alex, I know how you feel."

"Really."

"Yes, I do. I know it's hard after everything. It's hard for me and your mom, too. But we're not wasting this time. When things begin to change, we'll be more than happy to make our move. But not right now."

"Why not now? Panem needs a change."

"Yes, I know," he says, "But think about it this way. When things begin to happen, who'll be more useful to the movement? A rebel trying to fight his own way through the world, or a wealthy businessman that has influence in the government?"

I don't answer. We both know that he's right.

"I know you hate sitting back and waiting," he says, "Please be patient. It'll pay off in the end."

I sigh. "Fine, Dad."

He makes a weak attempt at a smile before turning around and heading for the doors back into the building.

"Oh, and Dad?"

"Yes?" He turns around.

"Can we still go home for lunch?"

His smile becomes genuine. "Sure. Let's go."

Duke Gallium, 17, District One

Brother of Imperial Gallium, deceased District One Male in the 998th Hunger Games

I stab the dummy's chest with a sword, and with a grunt, I shove it to the ground. I stick my fingers into the hole and rip apart the dummy, throwing stuffing everywhere. I'd usually consider myself a cautious person, but right now, I don't care. I throw the dummy's empty shell on the ground, empty, with its innards around it. Imagine that was the boy from Ten from last year. He'd deserve every bit of it.

Imperial was the ideal brother. Of course, he called me a nuisance, but don't all older brothers do that? My earliest memories are of him, playing with me in the snow and throwing snowballs at me. He always was the better shot; I stopped having snowball fights with him after a while. If only I had valued my time with him more.

It's hard to think about the past and not have him in it. He was the one that defended me when I was bullied in second grade for my near-black hair. He watched me when my mother ran errands, and he made sure I did my homework. Even when we started training, he constantly was with me, helping me improve. So, I'm going to win it this year for him.

"Duke!"

I turn and see little Platinum, my nephew, running towards me with that mischievous grin of his. He just turned three last week. I look up, and I see Duchess, who is his mother and my sister, not too far behind him. I wrap Platinum into a hug and look at Duchess.

"So, what are you two here for?" I ask.

"Well," she says, "I'm here to talk."

"Talk?"

"Yes," she says, "Talk. I figured that I might be able to get through to you."

"About what?"

She sighs. "Duke, you can't volunteer this year."

"Why not?"

"You're not ready," she says. "You're good; I know, but you're not ready yet. You're too angry."

"Too angry?" I scoff. "Our brother was killed last year in these Games. I'm not allowed to be angry?"

"It's not that," she says.

"Then what is it?"

"You get stupid when you're angry. You make decisions you'd never make if you were thinking properly."

"Like what?"

"Like that dummy," she says, pointing to the mess on the floor. I don't have any arguments to counter that.

It is true, though I don't want to believe it. If I did that to the dummy in front of me on an impulse, who knows what I'll do in the Games.

"Yeah, you're right," I say, dropping my shoulders.

She lets out her breath. "That was easier than I expected. I remember trying to change Imperial's mind when he was younger. I could never get him to budge."

"He sure was stubborn," I say.

"You know? I really miss him sometimes," she says, wiping at her eyes, "Sometimes, I think I've moved on, but then memories come flooding back and I can't stop…"

She's crying now, and I pull her into a hug. Platinum hugs her legs, wondering why his mom is crying.

"I'm sorry," she says, sniffling and trying to pull herself together.

"No, it's fine," I say, "We all heal differently."

"I'm glad you're staying this year," she says, "If I lost you too, I don't think I could handle it."

"Don't talk like that," I say, "It's for the best anyway that I wait a year."

But next year, no matter what, I'm volunteering, and no one can stop me.

A/N Yeah… I'm just trying to squeeze out chapters so that I can get people to notice this story. If submissions don't hurry up, I may have to fill in my own OCs...

Gosh, it's too late. I gotta go to bed. I don't even remember what I usually say in A/Ns.

So… yeah. Ending.

See y'all!

~Joseph