A/N: Strong language throughout Gage's POVs.


Gage Wilder, age 18
District 5 Male

"Move it, scrub!" I yell, laughing and pushing the younger boy out of the way and my friends and I make our way loudly down the sidewalk. The boy yelps as I shove him, but he rushes right back to where he was and looks upwards, glaring at me.

"Hey, that's mean!" he says, his hands on his hips. Damn, this kid's either really spunky or really stupid.

"I said, get out of my way," I growl, putting my hands forcefully on his shoulder. "And for that dirty little comment, I think you've earned yourself a trip to the trash cans."

"Yeah, Gage!" the guys chorus.

"C'mon, Quentin, help me carry him," I say as I start hauling the boy up from underneath his shoulders. Quentin obliges, snickering as he knocks our latest victim off his feet.

"Stop it, or I'll scream!" the boy yells, but I throw a hand over his mouth. Quentin and I laugh as we carry the boy towards the nearest alley and shove him into an overflowing trash can. Then all of run away, laughing.

"Hey!" a voice yells from above us. I look up and spot an old man glaring down at me from his second-floor window.

"Get out of here, all of you!" he yells.

"And why would we listen to you, fart face?" I sneer at the man, standing my ground proudly. The guys whoop and holler.

"Because if you don't leave me alone, I'll call the Peacekeepers, and you know how they are on Reaping Day," the old man growls.

"Guys, we should probably go," one of the guys whose name I don't care to remember says.

"Fine," I say, turning and jogging away. Then I whirl around, smirking at the direction of the old man.

"Yo momma so fat, when she rides an elevator the only way she can go is down!" I yell. Then I laugh to myself as I book it away from there, not caring how many people follow me.

I find myself at a storefront when I slow down. Most of the gang has dispersed, but Quentin is catching up to me.

"Dude, that was awesome!" he exclaims, clapping me on the back.

"People have gotta think twice before they mess with me," I say with a proud smirk.

"Hey Gage, our last year," Quentin says, smiling. "After this let's go have some fun and fuck some shit up."

"Hell yeah!" I say, puffing out my chest. "But why do we have to wait until the Reaping is over? Let's go find some other sucker to shove into a trash can."

"I thought we should get ready, to be honest," Quentin murmurs, glancing at his watch. "We only have an hour left."

I laugh, but my blood turns cold at the thought of spending time with Adam. Adam is my older brother, but only by a hair. Even though he's my twin, he's the worst.

"What, you actually want to spend time with your family?" I say.

"Yeah, me neither," Quentin says, grinning. "Come on, bro, let's swing by the senior housing."

"Aw yeah," I say, smiling and already thinking about the kinds of things I'll say to the old codgers.


Tatum Ridley, age 18
District 5 Female

The Shop is always open, even on a day like this. Normally everyone stays home on Reaping Day, but not me, firstly because I gotta bring home some good money and secondly because if I just sat at home not doing anything I'd probably be itching to go out to the Shop anyways.

The Shop is District 5's underground casino, disguised up front as a hobby gaming store. Gambling is technically illegal in Five, but nobody bothers to enforce it because even the Peacekeepers enjoy a good craps game now and then. As for me, gambling is practically my job. Sure, my mother makes money in her power plant, but after Dad died in an accident when I was five years old we fell onto tough times. But ever since I started gambling, we've been able to afford some nice things and a sizable apartment.

Alisha and I pack up our things and walk out of the establishment, waving goodbye to people we recognize. Alisha isn't into gambling, but she's my best friend, so she accompanies me here, mostly because she enjoys socializing with the patrons.

"Made some change at the slot machines today," I say as soon as we're a block away from the shop. "What say we hit the curio shop?"

"Sure, as long as we hit the liquor store afterwards," Alisha says with a smile.

"Deal," I say, smiling back. "I know we should probably save it for after we escape the Reaping, but screw it, any time is a time for wine."

"Our last year, huh," Alisha muses as we walk towards Curie's Curios. "Let's hope we get lucky."

"You know me, Alisha, I'm always lucky," I say with a laugh.

We reach the curio shop in a few minutes. Before we enter, Alisha elbows me gently.

"I know what to do," she says quietly.

"Thanks," I say, nodding to her as we enter.

"Welcome to Curie's Curios," the shopkeeper, a kind but somewhat scatterbrained older woman named Breeze, greets us. Curie is her family's last name, and the shop has been passed down by generation.

"Hi Curie," I say, smiling at her. "We're just buying something nice for ourselves this fine day."

"May I suggest one of these necklaces?" Curie asks, putting a dark brown wooden box on the counter. She opens the box, revealing it to be lined with gold-colored necklaces of varying lengths.

"Hmm, interesting," I say, even though I'm more inclined to look around the shop for something else. If there's one thing I've learned over the years of bargain hunting, it's to agree with the shopekeepers if possible.

"Ooh, that one's pretty," Alisha says, sidling over to me and pointing at a necklace with a golden chain and an amber-colored gem at the end of it. "Matches my eyes."

"Would you like to buy it?" Curie asks.

"I dunno, would you, Tatum?" Alisha says, giving me a glance that lasts for no longer than a second.

"Hmm, it is pretty," I muse, "but I think I'll go with that one."

I point to a less flashy but still beautiful necklace at the edge of the box. Not that I'm interested in wearing it - I hate jewelry - but I'm willing to buy it if it can fetch a high price for me later. My intuition is telling me that that particular necklace can be sold for a higher price than it's worth, and my intuition is often right.

"Alright, your pick," Alisha says knowingly. "I still want that one with the amber-colored gem, though. How much is it worth, Curie?"

Curie gives us the prices of our necklaces of choice, and we quickly purchase them, thanking the shopkeeper for her service before walking out of the store. Alisha admires her necklace as I stuff mine into my pocket.

"Man I really want some chips," Alisha says as we make our way to the liquor store.

"Saaame," I say with a smile. "Nothing wrong with a little pre-Reaping snack."

"How's your mom doing?" Alisha asks. "Is she seeing anyone?"

"Nah," I say with a shrug. "She's cool as ever but I don't think she wants to date anyone at this point. It's been a while since Dad died but it's not like I'm pushing her."

"Well, men kinda suck, anyways," Alisha declares, laughing.

I nod, half-agreeing. I'm not interested in guys at this point even though I'm straighter than an arrow, but I wouldn't say that all of them suck. Still, there's no reason for me to have a boyfriend or anything now, not when I'm fine getting by gambling my way up in the world.

Alisha and I both buy a bottle of wine and a large bag of chips at the liquor store. Then we part ways, going home to get ready for the Reaping.

I can't wait until this is over so I can really enjoy life.


Calypso Cheng, age 28
District 5 Escort

The weather is usually clear and sunny, if a bit windy, in District 5. This is unsurprising, considering that the District's industry is power. Five is known for its ability to harness the sun's energy with its solar panels and the wind's energy with its wind turbines, turning both forms of natural energy into electricity that we can use.

Today's weather is the way it usually is when I come here annually for the Reapings. I've only been escorting for seven years, but seven years is long enough to figure out the usual weather in the District I've been escorting for since I started. Despite the somber mood of Reaping Day, the sun shines down steadily and there isn't a single cloud in the clear blue sky. A few of the buildings in the Square are fitted with solar panels for more small-scale power generating, and thankfully the presence of buildings means that it isn't so windy that my long hair will get into my eyes. Still, a light breeze blows around the Square, and it's neither too hot nor too cold. It's a perfect day for a Reaping.

"I hate waiting for the Reaping to start," Atmos murmurs from where he's sitting next to me on the stage. "The anticipation is awful."

I frown and place a comforting hand on his shoulder. Atmos Hernandez, Victor of the 34th Games, is always in a low mood during the yearly Reapings. I can't blame him, because it reminds him that the Hunger Games are about to start, and, being from the Districts, he has a fear of them. However, every year, as Atmos starts interacting with his tributes, he gains confidence the more he works with them. He always gives it his all and does his best for himself and his tributes no matter what happens. It's really quite admirable, and I think I may have fallen in love with him if I wasn't gay. Despite my lack of romantic interest, I'm still on good terms with both of the Victors Five has managed to produce over the forty-four years.

"You did great last year, and the year before that, and the year before that," I say gently to Atmos, "so you'll do great this year as well. And I promise you that I won't drag the Reaping out longer than it has to be. Never have, never will."

"We can't thank you enough for your help, Calypso," the other Victor, Dalton Wu, says from the other side of Atmos. "You certainly have been a lot more helpful than your predecessor."

Dalton won the Games when they were getting started - the 6th - and, like Atmos, won them at age sixteen. Dalton has been a wonderful father figure for Atmos over the years, and they've been able to relate to each other well, with their Arenas and Games experiences being similar despite the Games themselves being decades apart. I smile at Dalton, happy to be working with him.

"No, thank you, both of you," I say, giving a small smile. "Working with you two has made my job very rewarding to the point that I don't want to leave Five even if I was offered a so-called promotion. Let's try our best to get one of our tributes home this year."

"It's so unfortunate that at least one of them has to die," Atmos murmurs, "but you're right." He nods, his eyes filled with determination. "Let's all try our best."

The Reaping starts as Mayor Aswar, a short but pretty middle-aged woman, gets up from her seat on the other side of me and walks to the podium at the back of the stage. The Mayor of Five is aloof and distant, but she does her job, and overall life in the District has improved during her term so I'm not complaining. Mayor Aswar gives a short speech somberly welcoming her District to this year's Games before turning the attention to me.

I smile as I get up from my seat and walk to the microphone, my tall heels clicking on the stage as I do so. The sun's light reflects off my sparkling gown, and I feel great and pretty. I'm wearing a lovely long dress covered in sparkles and beautiful shades of blue, and my lavender hair reaches almost to the ground. I've painted nice streaks of blue, purple, and white on my face, and I wear a hairband with wing-like appendages attached to it.

My flamboyant appearance is something I don't ever want to give up. I may be caring to my tributes and the Five Mentors, and some may say that caring people wouldn't wear what I'm wearing when sending kids off to their deaths, but my whole aesthetic is a core part of my identity. I don't think anyone minds my outfits, though, because I try my best for my tributes and don't drag the Reapings on.

"Hello, District 5," I say, projecting my voice but taking care to maintain a neutral tone. "As you may know already, I'm Calypso Cheng, your escort. I'll be drawing the names for this year's Hunger Games, the 44th, so without further ado, let's start by Reaping a girl."

I always start with the girls because I don't think it makes sense to change the order randomly every year. That just adds unnecessary uncertainty to the already stressful Reapings. I understand why some of my fellow escorts would do it, but it's just not my style.

I walk over to the girls' Reaping Bowl, pick out a slip, and walk back to the microphone, unfolding the slip of paper in front of me.

"Will Tatum Ridley please come to the stage," I say, loudly and clearly.

For a few moments, nothing happens, but then a long-haired girl steps out of the section of eighteen-year-olds. She looks shocked, but she's doing a great job at keeping her cool as she walks to the stage on her own. I notice that Tatum's dress is quite plain - just a no-frills, light blue, knee-length dress with an unbuttoned white blouse on top - but the tribute herself is rather pretty, with her brown hair and pale skin.

"Hello, Tatum," I say as the Reaped tribute steps onto the stage. I hold out a hand for her to shake, and she takes it mutely, not meeting my eyes.

"Are there any volunteers for Tatum?" I ask, as per protocol, but the square is silent.

I'll do my best for her, I decide. She's eighteen, so at least she won't be an obvious weak target.

"Alright then, let's move on to the boys," I say as I make my way over to the boys' Reaping Bowl and pull out a slip. I walk back to the microphone and say, "Gage Wilder."

A short, stocky boy with short red hair and a serious acne problem steps out of the section of eighteen-year-olds, his eyes wide. He looks to be a rich kid, wearing a full-on tuxedo, albeit with rolled-up sleeves that show off his arm muscles. Still, the Reaped boy looks visibly terrified, his breathing quick and shallow and his eyes darting around, but he still manages to walk to the stage on his own.

"Hello, Gage," I greet the Reaped boy as he arrives at the stage. I shake his very sweaty hand, resisting the urge to wipe my hand on something when I'm done.

"Are there any volunteers?" I as, as Gage stands on the stage, but of course there are none. I smile sadly at the District.

"Well, there you have it, District 5," I say. "Your tributes for the 44th Annual Hunger Games, Tatum Ridley and Gage Wilder. Tributes, shake hands."

The two tributes in front of me tentatively do as they are told. Gage still looks scared, but Tatum's eyes appear calculating behind her otherwise neutral facial expression.

I wonder if we can do it this year, I think as I step aside and let Mayor Aswar retake the stage.


Gage Wilder, age 18
District 5 Male

It doesn't take long after Quentin leaves for the door to the Goodbye Room to open again and my family to walk in. I smile when I see Mom and Dad, but my happiness is replaced by a cold feeling of dread as Adam follows them.

"Oh, my poor baby," Mom, sniffles, rushing over to the couch and giving me a hug. Dad follows and sits on the other side of me, hugging me as well. I manage to ignore Adam.

"I can't believe this happened," Dad murmurs sadly, stroking my back. "Gage, I'm going to miss you so much."

"What am I, chopped liver?" Adam growls from where he is standing near the door.

"Gage, please, do whatever you have to do to make it home to us," Mom says, ignoring my brother. "Learn survival skills, master a weapon, make allies, anything. Just please do your best."

"Alright, that's it," Adam yells, striding over to the couch and standing imposingly in front of it. My heart rate instantly goes from zero to a hundred as he screams, "Fuck you, Gage. You're a terrible person who deserves to go die in a fucking hole, you fuckwad. You're a fucking asshole and a fucking waste of space. Fuck off."

I shrink back, holding onto my parents for protection, as Dad clenches his fists in anger.

"Adam!" Mom says loudly, her eyes wide. "Look at what you've done to your poor younger brother, you've made Gage upset." She gives me a tight hug and glares at my twin. "How dare you. How dare you speak to him like that when he just got Reaped. We're going to make you do extra work tonight."

"Are you fucking kidding me," Adam growls, grabbing me by the shirt collar and prying me away from Mom. My heart rate shoots through the roof again as Adam grabs my ear and gives it a sharp upwards tug.

"What the fuck, Mom!" Adam screams, still gripping me by the ear. My eyes widen, my heart hammering in my chest.

Mom, Dad, do something! I want to scream, but Adam is faster.

"Why am I always the one who's wrong?" he yells. He lets go of my ear, but before I can feel relieved he shoves me forward forcefully, which causes me to fall into the couch. "You spoil Gage and give him whatever the fuck he wants, while making me work in the shop. And it's not just you, Mom, Dad does it too. You don't let Gage experience any consequences as he goes around being shit to people. You always rush to Gage's side whenever he appears to have a problem, and you've never listened to me. All because I'm older by, what, a minute? If you really think you can get me to do extra work today, you can kiss my ass."

"Adam, that's enough," Dad says, his eyes burning with rage as I hide behind Mom. "Get out."

Adam purses his lips. "Fine," he snarls, and whirls around. He walks briskly towards the door, but instead of opening it, he turns around abruptly, rushes towards me, and punches me in the face.

"OW!" I scream in horror as Adam's fist connects with my nose. My world gets blurry, but I can vaguely see Adam running as fast as he can away from me and out of the door.

"Gage, here!" Mom screams, shoving a fistful of tissues to me. "Honey, go after him and get the Peacekeepers if you have to, I'm helping our baby."

"It hurts!" I sob as I hold the tissues to my bleeding nose. "Adam punched me and it hurts!"

"There, there, sweetheart, the Capitol will fix you right up," Mom says, stroking my back. Dad glances concernedly at us, and when Mom nods at him, he walks briskly out of the Goodbye Room and shuts the door behind him.

"I'm scared of him," I say quietly as I lean into Mom. "Why is he like this?"

"I don't know, Gage, honey," Mom murmurs, kissing me on the forehead. "Oh, my baby boy, I'll miss you so much. But he won't hurt you if you come home. Even Adam will never harm a Victor."

"I hope," I murmur, throwing the blood-soaked tissues in the trash as I grab more. "You never know with that asshole."

"We'll do our best to protect you, that's for sure," Mom says, giving me a hug. "Oh, I wish you didn't have to go. But you can do it. I hope I'll see you again in a few weeks."

"I hope so too," I say, giving my mother a hug. "I'll try my very best to come home. I'll even be nice to people if I have to."

"That's my boy," Mom says, smiling sadly at me.

Our time is up all too soon, and I'm left sitting alone in the Goodbye Room, contemplating on how I'm going to get out of this alive.


Tatum Ridley, age 18
District 5 Female

The weight of the situation I'm in doesn't crash down upon me until a few minutes after I'm situated in the Goodbye Room. Now that I'm alone, I finally have the time to realize that holy shit, I'm going into the Hunger Games.

I don't know whether to scream or cry, so I do both. I let out a frustrated yell and bury my face in my hands, sobbing. I know I can't do this for too long, however, because I don't want to make it too obvious that I've been crying when the cameras catch me on the way to the train. Some tributes won't care, but I know more than anyone that all the pieces have to fall in the right place.

I take a deep breath and grab a few tissues, wiping away my tears. I've barely thrown away the tissues when the door to the room opens and my mother walks in.

She looks as if she's been crying, so I don't say anything as she walks straight to me and envelops me in a tight hug. I hug her back as she sobs quietly into my shoulder.

"Oh, Tatum, I'm so sad that I'm going to lose you," Mom sniffles, breaking the hug and facing me. "First my husband, and now my daughter too?"

"I'm so sorry, Mom," I say quietly, burying my face in her shoulder. "But I'll try my best to come home to you." I smile. "You know me, I tend to have good luck."

"Not today, because you got Reaped on your last year," Mom mutters, kissing my forehead. "But there's no changing the past. Just… please try your very hardest to win, okay?"

"I promise I'll try, Mom," I say, squeezing my mother's hand. "Can you promise to be okay when I'm gone?"

"I'll have to, right?" Mom says, sighing. "I became okay after your father's death, even if it took a while and I still miss him. So I'll be okay eventually no matter what, even though I'll always, always miss and remember you, Tatum."

"I love you too," I murmur, giving my mother a hug again.

"Listen," Mom says, her gaze serious, "you can do this. Play to your strengths. You're great at taking calculated risks, so keep doing that in the Arena. Coast through the middle of the crowd - don't appear too strong or too weak - but be adaptive, like you always are."

"Alright," I say, nodding seriously. "I won't do anything stupid. You can count on me, Mom."

"I know that I can," Mom says, hugging me again.

Mom and I continue to talk, mostly about strategy, before her time is up and she has to leave. I allow myself to cry just a bit, knowing that this is the last time I'll see my mother for a while, before the door opens and Alisha walks in.

"Tatum!" she exclaims, giving me a quick hug before plopping down next to me. "I'm going to miss you."

"I'll miss you too, Alisha," I murmur, "but I'll try my best. That much I can promise."

"I can't believe this," she mutters. "Just this morning we were hanging out and considering saving that bottle of wine for after the Reaping."

"Well, I guess at the very least, you can still enjoy that wine," I joke, somewhat bitterly. "No, seriously, Alisha, enjoy life while I'm away. You know what I say, don't stop moving up."

"I'll do my best," Alisha says, nodding. "Oh, Tatum, just be careful in there, okay? You probably shouldn't make any allies, you have no idea whether they're planning on stabbing you in the back."

"I don't intend on having allies," I say, and I mean it. "I won't look for any because I'm fine on my own. I'll just do whatever is the best to do when the situation arises."

"That's a good plan," Alisha says, smiling sadly. "I guess I can't say anything more except good luck, Tatum."

"Yeah, you too," I say, smiling back.


A/N: Thank you to IciclePower33 for submitting Gage, our District 5 Male, and thank you to tracelynn for submitting Tatum, our District 5 Female! What do you think of Gage, Tatum, and Calypso? If I wrote your character, how did I do? Please let me know what you think of the characters and the chapter in the reviews!

This SYOT is now CLOSED! To everyone who submitted, I can't thank you enough, and I can't wait to get this show on the road.

Here is the final tribute list:

District 1 Female: Morgan Chatelaine, age 18, submitted by krasnymak
District 1 Male: Glitz Mayfair, age 18, submitted by CelticGames4

District 2 Female: Sequoia Clearwater, age 18, submitted by theflowercrowns
District 2 Male: Jason "Jae" Trynx, age 18, submitted by epictomguy

District 3 Female: Caltryx Mortem, age 18, submitted by paperairline
District 3 Male: Andir Marx, age 18, submitted by IciclePower33

District 4 Female: Catalina Asbury, age 18, submitted by Smiley (Guest)
District 4 Male: Mako Bailey, age 17, submitted by AkaneOfFan (Guest)

District 5 Female: Tatum Ridley, age 18, submitted by tracelynn
District 5 Male: Gage Wilder, age 18, submitted by IciclePower33

District 6 Female: Mercedes Fletcher, age 16, submitted by 04darkwarrior1
District 6 Male: Miles Anderson Way, age 18, submitted by AmericanPi

District 7 Female: Rattana Penner, age 16, submitted by HoppsHungerfan
District 7 Male: Luca Springe, age 12, submitted by Honeyburst

District 8 Female: Clarissa Seldon, age 14, submitted by uniqueUsername1024
District 8 Male: Soy Nylsen, age 13, submitted by cornellfann

District 9 Female: Meghan Curdews, age 17, submitted by HoppsHungerfan
District 9 Male: Ohio Lequi, age 17, submitted by cornellfann

District 10 Female: Henna Fowler, age 18, submitted by AmericanPi
District 10 Male: Vancon Weiler, age 16, submitted by HoppsHungerfan

District 11 Female: Abilene Ackerman, age 17, submitted by curiousclove
District 11 Male: Winstead Dale, age 17, submitted by curiousclove

District 12 Female: Isadora Fink, age 17, submitted by Author-Hime
District 12 Male: Mero Coutel, age 14, submitted by cornellfann

In other news, I would like to ask you all a question: Are you okay with one of your submitted tributes killing another one of your submitted tributes in the same story? If so, under what circumstances? I'd love an answer, whether via review or PM, by submitters who have more than one tribute in this story, so I can plan out story arcs. Even if you don't have more than one tribute in this story, I'd like to hear your thoughts.

I'll see you all in two weeks (Saturday, September 8th) sharp in District 12!