AN: Apologies, I may have slightly exaggerated certain features of your characters to go with the plot. More apologies at only doing three districts in this chapter, but I'm not very good at longer chapters. Besides, I like to keep posting chapters at a regular rate.

District One

Medusa Tiofa tapped her foot impatiently on the stage. Seeing as District One would be the first to offer up their tributes, (she couldn't be everywhere at once, so reapings were to take place on separate days) they had had the least amount of time to prepare.

She watched as slowly, the potential tributes filed into the square and then split off into queues to enter the age sections. Her eagle eyes narrowing, Medusa could spot the Mary Sues from up on the stage. They were either the very richest or the very poorest, but whether they were decadent or dishabille, they were usually very good-looking.

Having been cued to begin the Reaping, she thumped the microphone hard to check it was working, ignoring the winces of everyone around her (including the Mayor.) In true Tiofa fashion, she announced the Reaping. Though she was unpleasant and grim, the Districts found they ever so slightly almost respected her, for her bored monotone conveyed no enthusiasm for the Games.

"Alright people. It's that time of year again. The bloody Hunger Games bloody Reaping. This year we have a twist, due to this year's being the Mary Sue Hunger Games. Tributes can only be Mary Sues or possibly Gary Stus. However the reaping bowl contains both Mary Sue and standard OC names. That shouldn't be a problem-" she sighed and rolled her eyes. "Because I'm sure the Sues among us here will no doubt volunteer if the Chosen Ones are not Suish enough. Anyway, Unhappy Hunger Games and May the Odds Be Never In Your Favour."

She turned and gestured grumpily at the technician in charge of the propaganda film.

"We also have an unusual film for you this year, which will be helpful as it should be slightly less successful at putting you all to sleep than the boring s**t they give us every other year. Which means that you at the back there" she pointed accusingly at a boy in the 18 year old section who was looking at a cake shop in the square "have no excuse not to pay attention!"

Grudgingly, the technician rolled the film.

A.N. Those of you who have seen the Hunger Games movie will have a sense of déjà vu in this bit, because what I have done is I have taken the propaganda reaping film they show in the movie and substituted words with fanfiction terminology.

Characterization. Terrible characterization. Plot holes, "twu wuv", endings that were never in doubt. These were the Mary Sue stories that rocked our fandom. Suethors broke the canon that taught them, loved them, entertained them. Stories warped out of context until nothing remained of their original story. And then came the fanfiction reviewer. Strong willed, often bitterly criticised. Understanding rose out of confusion and a new era was born. But OCs come with a cost, the Suethors were deleted, we swore as a fanfiction site we would never know this treason again. And so it was decreed that one year, the various Authors of Panem (androidilenya, happiness and hamsters,nb1998, Ellsweetella, YOUCALLTHATaKIS5, Keb85, quiet-little-wallflower, SassySunshine, Hufflepuffluv, FreeInk, LadyDunla, bloodredfirefly, DutchWritersofDisney2) would offer up in tribute 2 young Mary Sues/ Gary Stus to fight to the death in a pageant of honour, courage and sacrifice. The lone Victor, bathed in riches, would serve as a reminder of our entertainment and satisfaction. This is how we remember our past mistakes. This is how we safeguard our literature."

"Right, now that's out of the way," huffed Medusa. "Time to select the tributes unlucky enough to be Reaped or stupid enough to volunteer."

She extended a long finger and reached into the reaping bowl.

Diamond

The girl nibbled at her nails as she regarded herself in the mirror. Her name was Diamond Tyler (abbreviated, not including her many nicknames.) and she was a Mary Sue. If the flawless tan skin (and she hadn't even washed her face yet) baby blue eyes, blonde curls and perfectly developed body wasn't a big enough giveaway, then the fact that she managed to be smart, popular, helpful, friendly, kind all-round lovely without a single bad day (and she was 13, so how much more unrealistic do you get? Does this girl have no hormones?) would probably have been a likely hint.

She wasn't sure whether to have her hair up or down. Difficult decision for any Sue, it looked lovely either way.

"Dia, Dia!" Her two little sisters, Sapphire and Topaz, came bouncing along the hallway eager to see more of their special sister. They were both television-advert cute, but naturally didn't have their sister's radiance.

"Reaping Day! Dia! Quick quick!"

Diamond laughed as she gathered them both in her arms.

"Of course, girlies! How could I forget? Now-" she held up a pair of earrings. "Sadly, I need a little bit of help. I'm looking for a pair of little helpers who could help me put these in so I look extra especially lovely for the Reaping. Hmm, where can I find such helpers?"

Both Sapphire and Topaz bounced up and down, eager to be selected. (Why do they jump so much? Did they eat jumping beans?)

"Hmm.. let me see.. Sapphire" she handed one earring to the older of the two "and Topaz" she handed the other to the second and crouched down so that they could slot the perfect pearly stones into her ears.

"There now! All ready! Mom! Dad!" Quickly Mr and Mrs Tyler bustled out of the lounge and led the way out of the house, Diamond following holding both of her sisters' hands.

Arbella

A second girl was readying herself for the Reaping. The other side of the District, Arbella Start was tying her honey hair into plaits.

Her boyfriend, Max Bluebell, walked up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist.

"It's not working, Max" she sighed. "Hopelessly uneven plaits. Again. Everything comes naturally to me, except plaits. Why? Why does it never work?"

"It doesn't matter" Max shrugged, or shrugged as best you can with your arms filled with Mary Sue. "When you are Victor, everybody will be clamouring to do them for you."

"Yes," Her brown eyes became thoughtful as she considered the Games. "I guess I have nothing to lose, but everything to win. I have no family-"

"Um, excuse me?" said Max with mock offence. "Have I suddenly become part of the wallpaper?"

"Of course not. " She turned and smiled at him. "You are my everything, and when I win the Hunger Games, everybody will know it."

"Yes.. just imagine it. Arbella Start, District One's latest victor!" Max said dramatically.

"Yes. May the Odds be ever in my favour." She said fervently.

"Make them in your favour," said Max softly.

Arbella looked at herself in the mirror, at Max standing by her.

"Victor." She said. "That is my destiny. That is who I am. That is who I was born to be."

Anyway. Back to the Reaping.

Medusa rifled through the bowl, scooping them out like a child in a sandpit. She was notorious for taking ages to choose, for ramping up the suspense, by pausing with one, and then saying "No, not that one" putting it back in the bowl and pulling out another.

At last she selected one right from the very bottom. She straightened up and opened it.

Jean Sands. Brilliant. Not too complicated, overlong or ridiculous.

"Jean Sands!" She announced dramatically.

From somewhere in the 12 year olds section, Jean Sands strode out smugly. She may have been 12, but she was well known as the most vicious little bully District One had ever produced- and District one had produced a lot of vicious little bullies. As she made her March of Triumph up to the stage, she swore she could hear someone whisper "There goes the first 12 year old Victor" and grinned like Christmas had come early. Not that Panem celebrated Christmas or anything.

But just as she reached the steps, a heart broken cry shattered her glory and completely stole her thunder.

The cry was "I volunteer!" and guess who screamed it. None other than Diamond Tyler.

Both girls raced for the stage, but being a Sue, Diamond got there first despite Jean having a considerable headstart.

"B***h" Jean muttered under her breath as Diamond ran terrified up the steps. "I wanted to be reaped, stupid!" she yelled at Diamond.

"No, no, it's alright!" said Diamond melodramatically. "There's really no reason to thank me, I must save you, if only for dramatic tension in a plot that's already non-existent!"

"Better luck next year," whispered Medusa not-very-quietly to Jean who, rolling her eyes returned grumpily to her stand in the crowds.

"What's your name." Said Medusa, who appeared completely unimpressed by Diamond's desperate volunteering.

"Diamond Alyssa Irina Marina Sasha Tyler" said Diamond, not even out of breath despite the long run.

Holy f***. Thought Medusa. So much for short names.

"I'm sorry, you lost me somewhere around Irina."

"Diamond Alyssa Irina Marina-"

"Never mind" said Medusa impatiently. "Don't bother telling me, I'd like to get off this stage before I die of old age thank you, so on with the next tribute."

She reached into the bowl and unfurled the next one.

"Anna-"

"I volunteer."

Her head snapped up. "At least let me finish a bloody sentence!"

From out in the crowds, Arbella Start walked out and up to the stage, walking past Diamond as if she wasn't there. Her shoes clacking slightly on the stone, she walked up to the mic and said: "I volunteer as tribute."

"Yes yes we all heard you the first time," said Medusa testily. "Name, please."

"Arbella Start."

"Well finally SOMEBODY knows how to name an OC without sounding completely ridiculous." Medusa scowled at Diamond, who blushed and looked even more adorable than ever.

"Right, Reaping One done. You lot get into the Justice building and wait for the train there. I have another eleven of these to do."

District Two

The train journey was delayed by two hours, and Medusa was getting ratty. "Come on, come on, I have a schedule!" She said impatiently to the driver, who was struggling to concentrate: driving a train at 200 miles an hour and being yelled at is hard to do at the same time.

Katrue

"MOM! DAD! Please, NO!" Katrue Foxclove screamed in her sleep, tossing and turning.

She was two years old again, and her parents' house was crumbling around her.

Nobody could have anticipated that anybody would have anything against the Foxcloves, but the bomb that destroyed her family was thrown through the letterbox anyhow.

And now she was 22 years old, and alone, all other family having committed suicide not long after her parents had died.

But not little Katrue. No, she was a survivor.

Katrue shook her head, her breath slowly evening out. Her legs (hairy, oh no!) were still a bit shaky so she walked up and down in her bedroom to calm down.

She looked at herself in the mirror, with her eyes that changed colour the more she thought about it. No traces of the horror that she had known remained save for a scar on her forehead, shaped like a lightning bolt. (Wrong fandom!) She braided her flowing brown hair (she wished people would stop touching it) and reached for her favourite sword. Yes, you heard that right. You weren't supposed to have weapons in Two, unless you were a Peacekeeper, but for some reason the authorities in Two had somehow bypassed Katrue. Skipping slightly on the cobbled street, she made her way to the training yard near her home. She thought fondly of the years she had spent at the Academy training.

Using her sword dexterously, she sliced and chopped her way through dummy after dummy, to the applauding of the watching trainees who prayed that, one day, they would be as awesome as Katrue Foxclove.

Katrue laughed and joked with her best friends, so merrily, that she didn't notice that they were making their way to the Reaping. Absent-mindedly she walked so far, that she stuck her finger to be tested, despite being four years too old to be Reaped.

The data in Two was old, (no one cared too much about birth records, all the tributes were volunteers anyway) so it showed up as "Katrue Foxclove, 18 y/o". She found she was ushered towards the 18 year old section. But, being a nice polite unassuming person, she didn't complain. After all, surely somebody else would be Reaped. She didn't even take any extra tesserae.

Rihanna

"Lady Rihanna! Get UP NOW!"

She woke with a start, and deftly rolled off of her bed, missing the hurtling dinner plate by seconds, which smashed onto the floor beside her. Hissing angrily at the assailer, she scrambled off the floor and headed for the bathroom.

Why does everybody hate me? She thought angrily as she stared at her reflection in her breakfast cup of water. It's not my fault I'm beautiful. I didn't ask to have vivid blonde hair with purple and green highlights. So why do I have to take so much extra tesserae?

She shrugged it off, pinning a Mockingjay pin to her clothes and slipping on a long pair of gloves as she danced along the streets of District Two, humming a song that she had made up on the spot. Today, she decided, would be a very big day. Today, she decided, would be the day she would make a change to her abused and difficult life. She would be in control, she would make herself stronger, more independent and she would slip the noose of poverty. And she decided the Hunger Games would be the way by which she would do it.

The Reaping

Not long after Rihanna had slipped into the 12 y/o section, the film played on the screen and she found herself getting more and more excited. A Mary Sue Hunger Games! Just think of that! It would such a big challenge! And little Rihanna never shied from a challenge. Maybe she was only 12. Maybe she was bottom of the class at the training Academy, because actually she really couldn't use weapons. But it was an opportunity like no other.

Meanwhile, Katrue was just willing it all to end. Why wouldn't Medusa just get a move on and pick a tr-

"Katrue Foxclove!"

Wait- what?! She knew she wasn't supposed to be here at all, but surely- she had managed every other year- never even been reaped.

Never mind, she thought casually. I am Katrue Foxclove. Do you not hear the people whispering as I walk up to the stage? The Epic One. That is my reputation! I can surely manage one little Hunger Games. The odds are definitely in my favour. I am 22 years old, I have more experience than any other tribute can possibly have. I can win this thing.

Sword swaying by her side, she stood on stage and surveyed the audience.

For the fourth time, Medusa reached in the reaping bowl, but her hand's progress was halted by-

"Ooh!Ooh! Pick me! Pick me! I volunteer!"

"What?" she shouted. "At least give me a chance to pick a name!"

But she was too late, as little Rihanna made her way up to the stage- wait, was the girl skipping? She certainly was eager.

"Lady Rihanna" she said into the microphone.

"Woah," said Medusa, freaked a little at the name. "Was your mother drunk when she named you?"

"Nope." Said Rihanna, shaking her head, smiling and smiling, not the least bit offended.

"Well, anyway," still slightly unnerved at the tiny 12 year old volunteer. "You two, get in the Justice Building. I'm running late for District Three."

District Three

With more yelling at the driver, Medusa managed to reach Three just in time for the reaping. With so much walking and pacing, her heels we giving her blisters the size of bonbons. Hopping slightly and cursing her ambition in choosing this job, she made her way to the District Main Square.

Crystal

"I miss you, Mom," 16 year old Crystal Proton would whisper every morning to a picture of her mother in a locket that belonged in the Proton family. Then she would the locket back in her drawer and get on with her life.

"Morning, lovely girl," called the cheery voice of 40-year-old Leonard Proton, her beloved father and the head consultant engineer of one of the biggest firms in District Three and perhaps one of the most spoiling parents in Panem.

"Morning Dad" she said happily as she made her way downstairs. It was Reaping Day, but that was only really rattling around the back of her mind. She was rich, she didn't need tesserae, and it was always the tributes with tesserae that got reaped.

"Daddy, after the Reaping can we go to the movies?" she asked hopefully, batting her thick blonde eyelashes that framed her perfect almond shaped blue sparkly (yes, sparkly) eyes.

"Course we can."

"Thank you!" despite being monstrously spoiled, she was always kind and gentle and never angry. She just couldn't be angry, she was too happy for that.

Her father drove her up to the Reaping, and she filed into the crowds, waiting patiently until it was all over so she could go see that new film everybody was talking about.

Melody

The grass in the woods was soft, with like a mossy touch to it, and here it was Melody Neutron could be herself. She didn't know when it had begun, but she had always felt that she had a connection with nature stuff, and it showed most in the woods, where she was free to speak to animals and control the wind.

Yes, you read that right. This Mary Sue has a completely irrelevant superpower.

She spun a finger on the ground, making the wind rise up in a little dust tornado, careful not to get any in her wild green eyes.

She thought she heard a sound and spun, eyes wide with fear. Was it a Capitol hovercraft? She was constantly afraid, though really if she had wanted to be less scared she should stop putting herself in places she had no need to go to where she would get in trouble. Like the woods.

Guiltily, she left the one place in the world where she was happy and returned downtrodden, with her ever-present lost pitiful kitten look, to the abusive community home where the day ahead would bring only sorrow and distress. This was the life of poor little Melody, who was trusting, despite having been disappointed so many times in her life.

The Reaping

The first thought that came to Crystal's mind when her name was read out by Medusa, was pure disbelief. Surely everybody had called her "Goddess" for a reason? Surely she had some great destiny in her life? But was it really to be in the Hunger Games?

She had no idea what her chances would be. Despite not being a Career, she could use a bow and arrow and was pretty nifty with a katana (whatever that is) but she didn't really know if she had the mentality to win. She could never kill, she had always believed in fighting for the good but was there in any good in the arena? Was there any point in trying?

But when she stepped up to the stage, she was smiling. She was smiling. Everything would turn out right , in the end. It always did for Crystal Proton.

Something snapped in Melody's mind. She knew the Games were sadistic, wrong in every way, but hse hoped that there was something she could do about it. Just now, a 12 year old little girl had just been selected. And she reminded Melody so much of herself, right from the snuffling tears of the girl to her scuffed shoes. They had the same dark hair, Melody observed. (She was very observant.)

And then Melody felt her hand rise up, almost of its own accord, shakily stretching out. She felt shocked at her own bravery. But she felt that thought the decision was absurd, it was the right one.

Melody surprised herself at the calmness with which she approached her now district partner and fellow contestant, Crystal, who looked at her with such surprise as if she had painted herself purple, declared herself to be President of District 13 and tap danced in a bowl of rice.

Tributes Reaped so Far:

1) Diamond Tyler, D1

2) Arbella Start, D1

3) Katrue Foxclove, D2

4) Lady Rihanna, D2

5) Crystal Proton, D3

6) Melody Neutron, D3