Author's Note: Thank you for all those kind words in the reviews! They truly warm my heart! Also, thank you to CelticGames4 for Justus and Circe, MidnightRaven323 for Arista, and CrissKenobie-the-Numenorean for Victor. Finally, thanks to grimbutnotalways and RageHer0 for Amare and Gloria respectfully.

Chapter 2: Districts Two and Eleven Reapings

Justus Fiore, District Two male, 34 - CelticGames4

Justus awoke bright and early and grinned to himself. He had been waiting for this day ever since the quell was announced two months ago, and he was beyond ready. This time, nothing would stand in his way. He leapt out of bed with the energy of a twelve year old, gritting his teeth as his leg bent in an awkward direction, straining his sensitive muscle. Justus swore to himself. He had to ignore the pain. If he showed any weakness at all, he wouldn't make it out of the arena. Being a career, a male career from District Two at that, he couldn't show weakness. He mentally scolded himself. He had to try harder. Justus expected nothing less than perfection from his family, and that included himself.

Limping slightly to the light switch, Justus flicked on the light attached to the overhead ceiling fan that hung in the room he shared with his wife, Lenora. She groaned softly, squeezing her eyes shut to block out the bright light.

"Rise and shine, Lenora! It's Reaping Day!" Not wasting another second, Justus made his way to the shower across the hall, limping a bit less than before. Lenora would do her duty as a obedient housewife to start breakfast and wake the children while her husband prepared himself to look his best before the reaping. His sped through his shower, but took his time making himself look presentable. He combed his dark blonde hair and shaved his stubble, a task he usually put off until it was absolutely necessary. He put on the best outfit he owned, which included a white shirt, dark brown dress pants, a beige suit coat, and of course, a black tie. When Justus finally was satisfied that his appearance was impeccable, he ventured downstairs to enjoy his last breakfast as a normal District Two trainer rather than a victor. He was thankful work was optional today, as he didn't feel like being bothered with the kids at his training center. After today, he'd never have to step foot in that building again for the rest of his life, unless he felt like watching his children or gracing the trainees with his presence and advice.

As he arrived in the kitchen, Justus was greeted by the delicious smell of the bacon and eggs waiting for him. Not long after he sat down, he heard footsteps coming down the stairs, and glanced up to see his seven year old son, Clarus. The boy looked remarkably like his father, with the same blonde hair and brown eyes. "Ah, Clarus," Justus greeted his son. "You are going to training as soon as the reapings are over, aren't you? I don't see your training bag."

"Do I have to?" Clarus mutters. "You're going to be a victor anyway."

"Yes, of course you do!" Justus snapped. "You're a Fiore! Clarus Gallus Fiore, named after Gallus Catalani, victor of the 92nd Hunger Games, because he was a winner, and you will be too. You're not good enough, yet, though, not with that attitude and skill level you currently possess. You are going to volunteer in ten or eleven years, or you might as well not be a Fiore at all!"

Clarus stared down as his plate, not wanting to argue with his father. Meanwhile, Justus took a sip of coffee, carrying on with his breakfast. He was strict with his children, but it would all be for the best. They would come out stronger after they became victors, and one day, all three of them would thank him. In his eyes, he couldn't be a better parent to his children.

After another minute or so, Justus's oldest, twelve year old Primitiva Enobaria Fiore, joined her father and brother in the kitchen. Justus scowled as she entered the room. She was wearing a simple, baby blue dress that reached her knees, and her long hair was pulled into two pigtails tied with ribbons. "What the hell are you wearing?"

"My reaping clothes," Primitiva said softly, her soft green eyes that she had inherited from her mother wary. "What's wrong with them?"

"You look like a little girl!" Justus snapped. "You're hopeless! So fucking incompetent that you can't even dress like a victor! You'll never be able to make it out of the arena."

"Stop! I'm a twelve year old girl, not a victor!" Primitiva cried, tears threatening to spill from her eyes.

Justus shook his head. "Someday, you'll understand." His attention was diverted when he caught sight of Lenora carrying one-year-old Dominicus Talon. Justus grinned broadly at the little boy. "Ah, there's my littlest victor! Give him to me, Lenora."

Lenora did so, before silently sitting down to eat her breakfast. Meanwhile, Justus bounced the giggling baby on his knee while his older children looked on with jealousy and sadness in their eyes. While Justus was full of nothing but love and pride for his youngest child, it would only be about four or five years before Dominicus too, would be under the enormous amount of pressure his father laid upon his older siblings.

"How's my little victor?" Justus cooed, causing the baby to giggle even harder. "One day we're you're big and strong, you will follow in Daddy's footsteps! That's right, Dominicus, yes you will."

The family ate the rest of their breakfast in near silence, except for occasional boasting or criticism from Justus. The patriarch of the family watched as Lenora and Primitiva cleared the dishes before lightly pounding his fist on the table to get his family's attention. "Alright, Fiores! Out the door!"

Primitiva and Clarus hurried out the door, but Justus decided to keep Lenora back for a moment. "A word, Lenora?" She stopped in the doorway, glancing back at him apprehensively. Justus strolled over to her, leaning in as close as he could without pinning Dominicus between them.

"Don't you dare volunteer for the mothers," Justus growled, knowing his wife had planned to volunteer when she was eighteen but had been prevented from doing so due to becoming pregnant with their daughter. "If you do, I won't hesitate to kill you. Is that understood?"

Lenora nodded. "I wouldn't dream of it." She meant her words. Not only did she not to face Justus's wrath, she also couldn't bare to leave her children orphans if by chance Justus did not come home a victor.

Justus gave a firm nod before handing Dominicus off to his mother and parading out the door. He walked with his head held high, wanting to display a look of confidence and intimidation to everyone who noticed him stride by. As he neared the square, he spotted a peacekeeper directing the swarm of people and scowled. It was because of a peacekeeper that he had lost his opportunity to volunteer. All he had done was say something along the lines of "make way, I'm a future victor! Show some respect!" as he passed by a lower-ranking peacekeeper he had no interest in remembering the name of. He was doing nothing more than being a sarcastic, flippant teenager. The damn peacekeeper didn't see it that way, and he overreacted by shooting the volunteer-to-be in the lower leg, right in his calf, disabling him from completing his dream. It didn't matter though, not now. At the time, it was like the end of the world, but now, he was getting a second chance. This time around, he would be on his best behavior, until he at least arrived in the Capitol.

As Justus and Lenora joined the line to check in, Primitiva and Clarus branched off to find their friends along the sidelines. As he waited, Justus tapped his foot impatiently until his turn to check in finally arrived. After having his finger pricked for the first time in sixteen years, Justus proudly pushed his way to a desirable place in the crowd. He had intentionally arrived early, which allowed him a spot close to the stage. The disadvantage of his early arrival, though, was that he had to stand around for almost forty-five minutes as he waited for the mayor to come to the stage. After that, it took another five minutes for the escort, Amare Star, to approach the podium and play the ancient video. Justus rolled his eyes as the man rambled on and on. Amare was a showy man, with bright yellow, spiky hair and lightning bolt earrings. He had far too much energy for Justus's tastes, but if that energy aided him in his victory rather than hindered him, he could tolerate it. Choosing to ignore the escort, Justus's eyes skimmed over the long line of victors. Far too many years had passed since District Two's last victor, Gallus Catalani, won the 92nd Hunger Games. The past fourteen tributes District Two had offered to the Games had failed miserably, never making it further than third place, and Justus planned on breaking the dishonorable losing streak.

The loud, clear voice of Amare brought Justus out of his thoughts. "Good morning District Two! Are you ready to get this party started?" The crowd roared with cheers and applause and Amare applauded along with them with a grin on his face. "Of course you are! You never disappoint me with your energy and enthusiasm! You're just like me, after all! So, without further ado, let's draw the name of our stunning, beautiful mother!"

Amare dug around in the female's bowl before plucking out a single name. "Let's hear it for… Arista Lazuli!"

The crowd applauded politely, as was custom. Justus didn't bother looking around for the woman, as he was certain his district partner was going to be a volunteer. However, after the applause died down, silence lingered behind. Stunned and full of rage at the lack of honorable women in the district this year, Justus watched as a fair-skinned woman with ash brown hair walked to the stage. Despite having an angry look in her eyes, her head was held high in confidence. Once on stage, she glared at the mayor's bodyguard who stood regally near the mayor's side, her eyes full of cold accusation. The bodyguard only smirked at her in response. Justus had no time to ponder about the pair's exchange. He had to focus on preparing to volunteer.

"What? No volunteers?" Amare questioned, glancing around. "How odd. Oh well, no matter! District Two will nevertheless be a powerful force as usual! Now, let's select our fierce, impressive father… Julian Augustus!"

"I volunteer!" Justus shouted, but his voice wasn't alone. A few rows back, he spotted Callius Patterson rushing forward and fought back the urge to groan. Of course, how could he had forgotten that he would have competition? Back in the day when they we both teenagers, Justus and Patterson had been rivals. When Justus lost his opportunity to volunteer, he came across Patterson once again, as they both were hired as trainers at the same training center. Eventually, the two men became good friends. However, ever since the Quell was announced, their friendship had been shattered when they discovered that they both planned to volunteer. Now, instead of rushing towards the stage, Justus strode straight towards Patterson and balling his fist, punched his old friend right on the nose, crushing the bones underneath. Patterson roared in anger and pain, stumbling back as he clutched his nose. Justus smirked triumphantly, and with no other competition in sight, marched to the stage, doing his best to cover up his limp.

"Whoa! Such a powerful punch there! You're sure to be a force to be reckoned with!" Amare exclaimed. "What's your name, sir?"

"Justus Fiore!" Justus announced proudly into the microphone. "Your next victor!"

"Congratulations, Mr. Fiore! It's a pleasure to escort you to the Capitol! Ladies and Gentlemen, let's give Justus and Arista a round of applause! Shake hands, tributes!"

Justus sized up his district partner, attempting to strike intimidation into her. Arista didn't seem fazed at all, however, and continued her sophisticated expression as her hazel eyes betrayed no emotions. She may have been reaped, but she still seemed to have the air of a career around her, so Justus supposed he couldn't really complain just yet.

Eventually, the applause died down, and Justus was escorted to his visiting room in the justice building. Grinning from ear to ear, he took a seat in a large, velvet arm chair. As expected, his family soon entered as his first visitors.

"You see, children, that's how it's done!" Justus boasted as soon as his entire family was in the room. "The next time you see me, I'll be a victor. That being said, you are to continue your training. I plan to start an entire dynasty of victors. I don't want to hear of you two skipping even a minute of training while I'm gone. Am I clear."

"Yes sir," Primitiva said, nodding her head slightly. Clarus, however seemed to be drifting off into his own world.

"Clarus!" Justus barked. "Am I clear?"

Clarus nodded quickly. "Yes sir!" he chimed automatically, although he wouldn't have been able to tell anyone for certain what his father had said.

"Good," he said. "Lenora, you know what's expected of you."

She nodded, and shifted their sleeping son in her arms. "Of course."

His family left, and no one else came to visit. When the door opened again, Justus glanced over in curiosity, but realized it was only the yellow-haired escorted. "Alright then, Justus, we're off to see the the Capitol, the wonder, glorious Capitol!"

Justus grinned and got to his feet. His day had finally come, and once he was in the Capitol, he was going to blow them away.


Victor Mackall, District Eleven male, 40, District Eleven male - CrissKenobie-the-Numerorean

If there was anything good about Reaping Day, Victor would have to admit that it would have to be the fact that for once, he had the day off. A day off was a once a year opportunity, occurring only on Reaping Day. While the children of reaping age and their parents feared the day year after year, Victor had never been too concerned. Even now, with himself, his wife and his sister both being eligible, he wasn't too fearful. They had both survived seven reapings as teenagers, and they would survive this one as well. To Victor, Reaping Day meant a day where he didn't have to get up at the crack of dawn to get to work. It meant that he didn't have to spend hours lugging baskets of fruit from the trees to the monstrous trucks, straining his back in the process. It was just as well that Reaping Day was today, as Victor's back ached enough as it was, and being forced to work in such conditions, along with the extreme heat wave that had rolled in, would have been torture. So today, instead of working, Victor had the luxury of lying on the couch.

"Hi, sweetheart. How's your back feeling?" asked his wife, Alison, as she waddled into the room.

"Could be better," Victor grumbled, gazing up at his wife.

Alison gave a sympathetic sigh. "Oh, I'm sorry. Want a back rub?"

Victor smiled. "Yes, of course. Thank you, my dear." Grunting, Victor sat up to allow his wife to take her place beside him. He sighed in contentment as he felt her hands running up and down his back, massaging his spine. Alison had been suffering from back pain herself recently, a symptom of being eight months pregnant. Yet, she always put his needs first. No matter what, Alison always gave Victor the treatment he deserved, which of course, was only the best.

Victor was very much in love with his wife. She may have been different in her appearance from Victor and the rest of his family, with her blonde hair and fair skin, which contrasted Victor's black hair and brown skin. He was fairly tall and wiry, standing at about five-foot-ten, while she was petite, not much taller than five feet even. That didn't matter to Victor, though. The couple had been married for a year, and had dated for years before then. As they were more well-off than many other families in Eleven, life was blissful.

"Time for lunch," Victor's older step sister, Heidi, called from the kitchen. Heidi had been happily married to the love of her life, until he passed away a few years previous. Not wanting to live alone with her son, Frank, a boy who's life was affected by autism, Heidi had moved in with Victor and Alison.

"Thank you, Heidi," Victor said, slowly getting to his feet. He headed to the kitchen with Alison at his heels and sat at the table. His sister and nephew were waiting for them, along with bowls of soup and slices of bread. Victor dug into his meal, but was soon interrupted by a little foot hitting his leg repeatedly in a rhythmic fashion.

"Frank," Victor said with a sigh, trying to get the boy's attention. "Frank."

Frank didn't seem to hear him. Instead, the nine-year old boy continued to swing his legs, humming the same three notes over and over. Unsure how to handle his nephew, Victor glanced at his sister for help.

"Frank," Heidi said gently, leaning in towards the boy.. "Frank, listen please."

Finally, the boy looked up at his mother. "Hm?"

"I need you to stop swinging your legs. You're kicking Uncle Victor."

"Nuh-uh," Frank said, shaking his head. "Frank can't."

"Well, then scootch over this way," Heidi said, pulling Frank's chair away from Victor. "Is that better, Victor?"

Victor nodded, grateful the situation had faded away without a tantrum from Frank. Despite having adopted Frank as his own six months ago, becoming his second legal guardian, he never could connect with the boy. Although he loved Frank, as any uncle loves a nephew, he didn't know how to interact with him. That was the women's job. Heidi and Alison were both good with Frank, but Victor avoided being left alone with him whenever he could. He didn't know how to handle a boy who lived in his own world. As a result, he and Frank weren't close, but he was satisfied with that. Frank had his mother and his aunt to look after him, and that was enough.

"Look at the time," Victor said, glancing at the clock as he finished his soup. "It's already a quarter past twelve! The reapings begin at half past one, and I can recall the walk taking exactly forty-two minutes last year, so we had better leave soon."

The women nodded and began to clean up. Alison cleared the dishes, while Heidi helped Frank put on his shoes. Within minutes, the little family was out the door.

Going anywhere with Frank was always a challenge. Each time, he looked as though he had never stepped foot outside before. He walked slowly, captivated by nature, stopping frequently to stare at any flower, stick, or stone he found interesting. Victor estimated that they could have arrived at the square a good eleven minutes faster if only Frank was still small enough to be carried by Heidi. Eventually, though, the family arrived where they needed to be, which was really all that mattered.

"Hello, Victor! Alison, Heidi!" Glancing towards the voice, Victor saw his two closest friends strolling towards them. Jason, a jolly, slightly plump man waved ruefully, his normally light-hearted voice full of concern. Next to him, Victor's best friend Aaron managed a weak smile. Clearly, his friends were more concerned about the reaping than he was.

"You ready?" Aaron asked, his deep voice grave.

Victor nodded. "It's just another reaping. I won't be reaped. The world still owes me, remember? I haven't lived out my worth yet."

Aaron nodded slightly, used to Victor's egotistical idea of self-importance. "I sure hope you're right. I'd get ready if I were you. It's almost your turn."

Victor allowed his ladies to go first, and when his turn was over, he kissed them both goodbye at Alison's insistence. Then, he followed his friends into the waiting, anxious crowd.

The mayor, a man of few words, didn't take long to call the escort to the podium. Gloria Chase, a tall woman in her mid-twenties, was wearing a bright orange skirt and a dark orange long sleeved shirt, the same outfit she wore every year since she had starting escorting in Eleven since the Ninety-seventh Games.

"Good afternoon, District Eleven," Gloria said, her blue eyes alight with enthusiasm. "It is such a pleasure to be in this sunny district once again this year! Let's watch our special video so we can on with the reaping."

Looking around, Victor noticed that most of the parents in the crowd seemed bored out of their minds. Even Thorne Stanton, District Eleven's only living victor, rested his head in his hand, looking as though he could fall asleep if the escort didn't hurry up. Somehow, everyone was still awake by the time the video ended and Gloria happily trotted to the women's bowl. "Let's see… Circe Banks!"

No one moved for a moment, but soon enough, the group of women parted, allowing Victor to see a sobbing woman let go of another woman's hand. With their tall, thin stature, very curly hair and dark skin, Victor could only assume that the pair were sisters. As she climbed the stage, Circe continued to sob, wiping her tears away only half-heartedly.

"Oh, now don't cry, Circe," Gloria said, patting the older woman on the back. "It's alright. I believe in you."

Gloria's words did no good, however, and sighing slightly, she moved on to the men's bowl. "Alright, let's find our male tribute. Victor Mackall!"

Victor jumped a little when he heard her words. Did Gloria just say his name? Had he just been reaped? Dumbfounded, Victor stood in place, staring at Gloria until he heard his wife's voice.

"Victor!" She called to him, pushing her way through the women's section as tears streamed down her face. Before she could take even a dozen steps, a peacekeeper barricaded her path. When two more peacekeepers began marching towards him, Victor took it as a sign to move, straight to the stage. Once there, reality slapped him in the face, and like his district partner, he too, burst into tears.

"Oh, dear," Gloria said, her face falling. "Not you too. Please don't give up you two, you can do this. Now, shake hands, and then you can say your goodbyes."

This only made Victor sob harder. He couldn't go to the Games. He couldn't leave his family, and he certainly did not want to die. Shakingly, he reached out and took Circe's frail hand, gently shaking it as he was told. Then, a peacekeeper roughly grabbed him by the arm and dragged him into the Justice building. The peacekeeper gave him and firm shove, and Victor stumbled into the room. He stood in one place, quivering until the door opened again and his wife, sister, and nephew filed in.

"Oh, Victor," Alison sighed, voice quivering. She wiped her eyes, trying to pull herself together "I'm so sorry. Come home to me. Y-you still have to meet our baby."

"How am I supposed to do that, exactly? I'm probably going to be one of the oldest there. Unlike most years, advanced years is not a good thing, not when you are forty."

"You're smart," said Heidi. " You know more facts than anyone else I know. You'll figure something out."

"I don't think book sense will help me in the arena," said Victor, "but I'll try my best."

Both women hugged him tightly, and they stayed in each other's embrace for several minutes. Then, he kissed them all goodbye, even Frank, who wiggled and whined in protest. Then, they were gone, just like that. Less than a minute later, Aaron and Jason entered the room together.

"Hey, Victor. Doing alright?" Jason asked.

"Of course not," Aaron grumbled. "The man has been reaped. And here I thought we were all safe."

"Why me?" Victor whimpered. "I don't deserve to die. This can't be what the world has meant for me to be."

"Well, then, you just have to make it home," said Jason. "Like the escort said, don't give up yet."

"I won't," Victor said. "Not yet."

The three men stood around in awkwardness, talking about anything from the weather to good times in their past. Anything but the Games suited Victor. Too soon, visiting time ended, and Victor's friends were lead away, causing him to deal with reality alone.

Author's note: Hey guys! A few things. First off, tribute submissions are full, unless you are the one author who has requested I keep the Five Female open until you could submit but have not yet sent in your form (If that is you, please do so ASAP.) I do have two submitters wanting to submit to that spot, so once I get the other form, they will compete for the spot. Thanks to everyone who has submitted! This SYOT would not be possible without you!

Secondly, if you have just stumbled across this SYOT now and want to submit, it is not too late to submit escorts. I still need escorts for Districts Six, Eight, Nine, and Twelve. Thank you for those as well. :)

Finally, I am betaing for the fabulous david12341, who is writing an SYOT. It is a quarter quell in which twelve normal aged tributes are paired with a five to eleven year old from their district, and if their child dies, so do they, and vice versa. He still needs some tributes, especially little ones in the five to eleven year old range, so if that interests you, go submit to him. In addition, my friend Wetstar still has a few spots in their partial SYOT "Magnets" as well, so check that out as well.

Oops, that wasn't finally, I lied. The real "finally" is that the end of my first college year has been chaotic, but it's almost done. With final exams starting this Friday, and move out weekend being next Saturday, I should have more time on my hands (even though I do have to get a summer job). So expect another update coming hopefully the second week of May, or soon after.

If you made it this far, thank you for reading my super long A/N. :)