Well Sorry it took awhile. I was at camp for a week with my school. What a waste of time... -_- Well I am sorry that these characters have some tweaks that I made. But it was suppose to make them more interesting but I think it worked well. Please if you have a chance review )

Also check out the forum for this story called "The Hunger Games Pain and Gain Story" but I don't know why when you look it up it won't show, if you guys know why please help me out! But I update it a lot with info on things, possible spoilers, notifications on the story, so please make sure to look for notifications. Thank you.

Make any topics you want with it, support a character, sponsor them. Anything! Also I have made up teams and alliances that will happen in the games, and created the bloodbath chapters! So I am all set just waiting on finishing these reapings. Check out alliances below. STILL WAITING FOR A COUPLE MORE TRIBUTES


Riley Guardian


Most people spend more time and energy going around problems than in trying to solve them.

Henry Ford


"Oh come on Riley."

Riley grunted, showering over her arms as the boy came closer. "Leave me alone."

In the expanse of his figure, he shrouded her view. The boy was tall, and lean. He was at least sixteen, a year older than me. His black hair curved to the back of his head leaving his blue eyes to stare deeply into my green speckled blue eyes. I had no openings for him to manage me to love him. I was on the breaking point with him. He had always stalked me, watched me at least, and loved me. I didn't get it.

Was I that amazing? My hair was always a deep red that ruffled everywhere. I couldn't be that pretty but I did have the perfect curves, which attracted people like this boy. It was hard to believe but it was true.

"Can't you just like me already?" He cleared his throat, as I stared right back into his eyes.

I shrugged shaking my head sideways. I didn't want to answer him, not him. "Just," I sighed pointing my finger at the nearby street line, "Go."

He didn't say anything. He turned around and paced slowly towards the musty smell of the factories. I titled my head back to stare at the sky. It was grey and cloudy. A very thin layer of fumes were circling the sun blocking it, along with the clouds. District 8 always had fumes puffing out of our clothing factories. The good thing was that we got nice clothes from our factories. The worst thing of all was when I was little my parents told me how our little urban town was very small. Trees and grass would be everywhere, but now it is ugly, smells bad and there are always the boys.

I pull myself together, taking in a few breaths here and there, and strangle myself for me to push myself forward to the streets. I walk slowly, step after step after step to my own home. Home.

I shouldn't call home, I can't. It is a hell 'explosive' site. My mom was the explosive, and the house was the hell. She had problems, we all have problems but hers was anger, also known to my sister and me the nuclear war bomb. It started when my father was killed by Peacekeepers. He was protecting innocent kids who were being bullied by the people we should be worshipping. The thing was that I watched it. I watched him get shot but first whipped by their deadly whips at hand. I would have done something but the nightmares attacked me.

Mom was horrified by what she saw… or should I say heard. She turned to other ways of getting rid of the past. Drinking, the most common way of escaping from the past. Then it went to the hatred and horrifying rages.

Olive, my sister, was mortified to know that her mother was not who she thought she was. Now I come home to talk with my sister and play with her, avoiding my mother who was always in her room with some drinks. I did think of running away from their but I couldn't just leave Olive. All my relatives were addicts or dead… mostly dead.

I was going to have to just deal with it for the rest of my life, unless if I was reaped from the escort Clancy. Tough to know your choices were to be reaped or to live with it. Most would say, live with it but I would rather be reaped. Olive would not like it. She always said that she would volunteer for me anytime. I can't see her get killed. I had witnessed so many deaths from the games that it got tiring to watch.

The Capitol strained our eyes to watch the games; no one could leave the premise until they declared a victor.

Speaking of the reapings, I had merely forgotten about the reapings. They were at dusk, roughly six o'clock. That is just peachy. Also to make myself feel even 'better' I had already managed to double my name for tesserae.

The musky fumes filled my nostrils as I stepped into my apartment building. The complex was six stories high. Mine was on the first level, the biggest but the priciest. Everyday we lost money from the low budgets we got. Mom worked as a clothing manufacturer with only minimum wage. I sometimes participated in helping a teacher at my school which only paid me ten bucks an hour. Prices were rather high since last year. For just a box of cereal from District 9 and 11 was about twenty-five bucks. I would have to work twenty four hours for just twenty-five bucks.

Surprisingly Olive and I are well and not dying… just yet. I twisted our door-knob and walked right in, back slouching. The room was lit with only one lamp. A stair led to mine neighbors above, straight ahead. A dark green couch was organized around the TV and the pillows were on the floor like always. The kitchen was in a corner with a table, the length of my arm, tucked in the back. A couple beer bottles were on the table. They were full with a black liquid surging inside. Mom was nowhere in sight, neither was Olive.

I wanted to dump those beer bottles, but I couldn't waste precious money. Then again we were doing fine; mom wasn't because of this beer. I ran to the tables and counters that were covered with them. I grabbed the nearest one. It was wet and slimy, which then dropped out of my hand. It smashed onto the floor, leaving shards of glass and oozing liquid on the tiles.

I hear mom's door slam shut. She was awake and was drunk. I could tell from her heavy breathing. Her figure was in view. Hair that was brown sank to the back of her neck, soaked with beer.

Her face was shaped oddly and her mouth shook with astonishment. "Diley," She had just called me Diley, not Riley. "What are you doing with my drinks?" Her face turned deep red.

I gritted my teeth, knowing that this might still stop her. I clutch two more bottles and throw them at the ground by her feet. She flies back. The glass had hit her ankles making them bleed with a red smudges on her skin.

"Bitch, that is my money you are wasting Siley."

I tremble, shaken on what she had just yelled at me for. I close my eyes and speak out against her harsh drunk tone. "My name is Riley for god's sake. Not Diley or Siley," A few sparkles of water fell from my eyes to the floor. I manage to pull my self together to finish what I needed to say. "You can't go on like this… Emma."

I had called her real name, Emma. Not mom or mother.

Without any other words or movement, I grab all of the remaining bottles and toss them into a cardboard box. I turn to face Emma, eyeing her with my shady eyes. "This is for us. You need to let go of him like Olive and I have." I tell her.

I carry the box to the basement where everything rots, and is never taken out. I plant it next to two cages, and cover it with a dusty blanket. This was probably the only thing that might stop her from drinking. I hear footsteps coming down the oak steps.

It is Olive. Her red pony tails drifting off her shoulders and her dress mangled with dirt. I can tell she is worried and scared. She is only a few inches shorter than me. "What happened Riley? I'm scared."

Her eyes shake, my eyes shake. I grab her and hug her, cradling her around my arms. I hear Olive crying a bit. I need to be the mature one and not cry, so I whisper something in her ear. "Everything is better now."

"Why is mom all depressed still, why is she still angry?"

I stop moving and think. I don't have any answer except that she is just the kind of person. "She is just afraid to except the truth that dad is gone so she escapes if with drinking," I exclaim. "And please Olive let's just get out of here and clean up. We got reapings today."

Olive's crying stops and we head back up stair. The smell of beer fills my nostrils. The most astonishing thing was that I see mom cleaning the mess we made. She knelt down onto the broken glass, piling it all into a tin bucket.

"Uh, Olive go get dress for the reapings." I order her.

She looks up at me. "But we still have time to get ready, it isn't even five yet." Olive tells me.

"Well we have to get there fast this time. Just go get dressed." I didn't want to argue with Olive even though we normally do at times, it just wasn't the time to do that.

I gather by my mom, who peered at me from behind. Her glint in her eyes was rather scary looking. She was still drunk but had calmed down. I scooped up the rest of the shards and threw them into the bucket.

What had just happened?


Septimus Carson


You get ideas from daydreaming. You get ideas from being bored. You get ideas all the time. The only difference between writers and other people is we notice when we're doing it.

Neil Gaiman


The blackening explosion, that rippled the ground, hit my parents. The depths of flames and smoke moved closer towards them, as their faces were gulped into the flames that soon scarred them. Their cries and torturing pains filled my ear drums. The dream faded into emptiness, with their screams still running in my mind. I braced my self for the regular sweat that would trickle down my face, but it didn't come.

My eyes opened from the whispering winds that picked up the leaves that carried them away. I shudder from the on going memories that keep me from doing anything. I hated it. I liked daydreaming but not daydreaming of the sudden nightmares that I conceal inside me. That night was my darkest moment, the death of my parents.

I closed my eyes gently, and reopened them before the nightmares could sweep through me again. I didn't dare to see the memories again. I heaved up a deep breath and stood back to my feet. The streets were flooded with workers and peacekeepers.

Peacekeepers were common here, they came to try on our gear that we make them and they patrol the area since we are mostly common for drunks and gang people. For all the history of the Districts at school, District 8 was named the dirtiest and deadliest Districts. And I have to agree with those textbooks.

Losing my parents was the worst, but I also kind of felt bad for this adult who was killed by Peacekeepers surprisingly. He was protecting kids who then were shot at and killed after. I still remember the face of the red haired girl who watched it happened. I don't actually know if they were related but she was very saddened by the news. Now she lives in an apartment with her family, and I heard stories that her mother is a drunken addict and killed others. I don't believe it but I do believe the drunken mother part.

I laced my finger over my shaggy brown hair, swaying it over to the side. The reapings were in one more hour. I should be getting ready. I guess all I needed was to gussy up. I looked behind at me to watch as last minute customers strolled into my aunt's clothing store. My house, or should I say there house was on top of the store since they were the owners.

They were my guardians, my 'parents'. Then there were my cousins Quinn, Eric, and Dustin. I was older than Dustin and Quinn, but Eric was twenty, who worked at the store for money. Dustin and Quinn were twins, both four. I kind of feel bad for them. They have to witness all their neighbors die in the games soon it will be them to face the pain.

I paced into the shop, awkwardly staring at nearby customers. I made my way up the stairs to the second floor. Dustin and Quinn were playing with small balls. They were marbles. I gave them a warm smile.

"Septimus, can you play marbles with us?" Dustin asked grabbing my fingers.

I shake my head sideways, "I can't. We have to get ready for the reapings." I tell Dustin. He stomps his foot, and grabs two identical blue marbles. He plants them into his pocket and runs off to the bedroom. Quinn laughs.

"Silly Dustin!" She giggles.

I grow a much larger smile then before. "Now go get ready, we have to be there in twenty minutes."

She runs off into her bedroom as I stand silently.


"Riley Guardian!"

I stare widely at the moving girl. She looks familiar, like a childhood memory. I blink fast, to see her crying. I can hear rain pounding on the roof of the reaping area. Tink, the escort of District eight, smiles at Riley showing her disgusting teeth.

I close my eyes, and head into my memories onto where I have seen her before.

"Leave them alone!"

The man yells at the white suited men. Their hands were gripped onto their own guns. There were two of them. I can hear their shouting and swearing. The two kids behind the man were shuddering, then it hit.

I had fogged up the window. Loud firing occurred and I couldn't tell what had happened. Was it just that someone slapped someone? I clear the window from the fog. I gasp and shudder. There was a halo of blood leaking from the kid's bodies. The man was gripping his side still ordering them to stop.

Another gunshot was sounded and the man fell to the pavement, dying. I look at the nearby girl in the window. Curly, red hair. Small and frail.

"It is her." I mutter under my breath. Riley was the girl I saw crying after the man was killed. The girl in the window. The girl with the drunken mother. The girl with the dark memories like me.

Another name has been called from the old bag. I look up to Tink. She waits for any sudden movement from the sections. No movements. Who was called?

Then I hear Dustin's voice. He yells across the room. "Septimus, you've been called up! Go to the old hag!"

I laugh a bit. Dustin still didn't understand the ideal of reapings but he said that I had been called up. I freeze, gripping my fingers.

I was reaped… I was reaped….


I was greeted with a large hug from my Aunt. She looks at me so dearly, clutching, holding me tightly.

"Honey, let him breathe." My uncle tells her, placing his hand onto her shoulder.

A gentle hand grabs my index finger from my aunt's side. Dustin holds it. "Septimus, I want to give you something," I let go of my aunt and look at Dustin. He picks out something from his pocket. His sensation of smiling scares me. What was it? "Have this one," I pluck the round ball out of his hand. "It is the blue marble that looks like mine. Remember how you always played with that one with me. Now keep it. I gave it memories of us by praying to it."

A slow moving tear slides down my cheek. It is another one of those memories. The token was a pretty blue. I looked at the other side of it. A formal printing of the name Dustin was on it.

"Um Dustin, why does it say your name?"

"Because, Mommy wrote down Septimus on the other and then she decided to write Dustin on that one, so that if you were ever leaving you would still remember me." He proclaimed,

I move my lower lip inside my mouth, trying to hold back the tears. I look at Quinn, her face so precious. "I love you Dustin… Thank you."

I kneel down to his level, giving him a giant hug.

Now I was crying for good will, and for the ever love and memories to come.


Teams/Alliances *SPOILERS

Team 1. (Career)

Ajax

Tony- On and off

Jeni- On and off

Bliss

Alden- undecided

Ayame- On and off

Thor- (Even though he isn't a career)

Team 2. (Anti-Career)

Annie

Veronica

James

Septimus

Riley

Team 3. (Outer-Skirts)

Maria

Vicky

Team 4. (Pair Circlers)

Fiasco

Male 10

Team 5. (Evaders)

Ember

Male 5

Male 9

Team 6. (Exile Runners)

Martin

Team 7. (Exile Killers)

Skylark

Team 8. (Bloodbaths)

Lenama

Joey

Dan