Hey guys, Pursuit here!

Azalea Faulks was an interesting character to write, as well, she had such limited information that she required a made up name. Many of you requested Foxface, and here you go!

As well, thanks guys for the two nominations this story has gotten for the Summer 2010 Hunger Games Fic Awards! The two categories the stories are under are Best Overall Multi-Chapter Fic and Saddest Story/Best Tragedy. Special Thanks to Tour de Force and Claratix LeChatham!

So, yeah... On with the story!

She smiled toothily, and M. instantly felt uncomfortable. "Azalea..."

"Yes?" She inquired, rapping her fingers against the desk.

"Please stop doing that," M. asked, gesturing towards her hand.

Azalea smiled. "Oh, alright," she conceded. "Now, where am I, who are you, and why do you seem so... uncomfortable?"

M. sighed, then answered, "Neither here nor there, I am M.; your messenger, and because of recent happenings."

"Being..?" Azalea openly inquired, smiling.

M. inwardly frowned as she felt blood rushing to her neck, and cringed when she saw Azalea staring. "I may... I may have caused two tributes to be trapped in Limbo."

"Limbo... what an interesting concept," Azalea said. "Now tell me, M., why am I here?"

M. sighed. "I don't know," she admitted. "The concept of Judgement Day is to resolve the, err, contestants of their regrets. Yet... you have none."

"Of course," Azalea replied, evenly. "What life- pardon the phrase- is worth living if it is clouded with regrets?"

M. remained silent, instead dabbing at her neck. "You look like a smart girl," Azalea continued. "Tell me, how old are you?"

"Sixteen," M. answered automatically, almost grudgingly.

"Ah," Azalea said, leaning back in her chair, "only a year younger than me."

M. sighed. "Not quite, I've been around longer than that."

Azalea opened her mouth to say something, but paused. "What is that sound? Sounds like someone is trying to kill someone."

M. paused, straining to hear the noise. "I don't-"

"Ssh," Azalea said, miming a finger to the lips. "Now."

M. drowned out her surroundings, using the same concentration Azalea had, and heard the yells. "What is that- Oh! Pardon me!" She rushed to the door, sighing.

"Take your time," Azalea said. "I've got all the time in the world."

"Clove! Thresh!" M. yelled, both relieved and confused. "How did- you came back! Oh, thank god!"

Thresh rolled his eyes, glaring at Clove. "Yes, she 'forgave' me, which turned out to be a ruse to get her back."

"Oh, tell me you wouldn't have done the same thing!" Clove shouted angrily, her voice echoing through the halls.

Thresh clenched his fists. "No, I wouldn't have. I have integrity."

"Do you even hear yourself?" She asked. "I got us out of there!"

"Oh, sure. Not before toying with my emotions though!" He muttered.

She sighed, exasperatedly. "I forgave you, didn't I?"

"Did you really, Clove?" He asked, mocking. "Or was that just a matter of convenience?"

"I really did forgive you Thresh," she muttered.

He groaned. "There you go again!"

"What?"

He glanced at her, annoyed. "Toying with my emotions!"

"Oh, come off it!" She snapped, "Just admit it; I did the right thing."

"In what world-"

M. interrupted with a pointed cough. "Both of you, quiet! I have another tribute-"

"Who?" Clove asked, concerned, and Thresh sneered.

"Worried it's your precious little Cato, Clove? Worried he didn't send for you?" Thresh bit out, harshly.

M. frowned. "Enough!" She shouted, and then added more quietly, "I'll come back for you two later." She walked off with a pointed glance directed at the two, and slipped back into her office.

"So, Azalea," M. began, shutting the door behind her.

"Foxface," Azalea interrupted, "that's what she called me."

M. paled. "You aren't supposed to be reading those."

"She's still alive isn't she?" Azalea said, eyes narrowed. "Her and her little boyfriend?"

M. shook her head. "I really can't say-"

"Answer me," Azalea demanded, not harshly, but the cold indifference made M. wince.

"Yes," M. whispered.

Azalea nodded curtly, snapping the folder shut. "Figures, I always thought she was smarter than she let on."

M. nodded, but said nothing. "Quite the amount of paperwork you did," Azalea noted, sweeping her hand over open folders. "The extensive detail is astounding."

"Yes, I-"

"You're afraid of me, aren't you?" Azalea asked, calculating.

M. shook her head. "No, I-"

"Then you dislike me."

"No, I don't dislike you," M. replied with finality. "I'm just a little taken aback by your indifference."

Azalea frowned, as if trying to find the right words. "You... are required... to answer all of my questions truthfully, right?"

"Yes," M. murmured, "same with the others. No one, quite knows that though."

"Of course," Azalea said, in a way that made it seem as if this made her immensely happy. "I have one final question," she announced, "before I'm ready to go."

M. nodded, watching as Azalea paced through her office. "And hopefully, I have an answer."

"Yes," Azalea smiled weakly. "Was this all for nothing?"

M. was unprepared for the question, but never the less, tried to find an answer. "I don't think so," she said, shaking her head. "I think it was for everything."

Azalea pondered this, before smiling. "I think I'm ready to go now."

"I think so too," M. said, smiling softly. "The door on the left."

Azalea walked to the door, reached for the doorknob, and paused. "This isn't the end, is it?" She asked, turning to look at M.

"No," M. conceded, as Azalea turned the handle, "it is merely the beginning."

M. squinted as she was hit with the bright light, and watched as it engulfed Azalea. M., not for the first time, watched as the light forced the saline from her eyes. She no longer felt it.

She no longer felt anything.

A/N:I will be out of reach of the Internet the last two weeks of June. I sincerely hope to get another chapter up by then (because hello, Cato!) but I make no promises.

As well, I would like to note that M. is right; this is just the beginning.

-Pursuit