Astrid Evans, District 1, 18:


Astrid Jewel Evans, the soon to be victor of the Two Hundred and Third Games. I was an average teenage girl with big dreams, and after years of training I knew that my moment had finally arrived on a golden platter; I was finally going to go in and win the Hunger Games.

The first day of training was here, so I made sure to get up extra early. At half five in the morning I got a nice, hot shower before prettying myself up in the mirror. I was rather average looking, and my nose was too big - especially for District One standards - but I was prepared for the Games and that was all that mattered. Looks didn't mean anything when I could get plastic surgery soon anyway.

I started off with my morning exercises, and I was doing some sit ups when Leena, the District escort, strolled into the room was a large smirk on her face. Her grin grew impossibly long when she saw me exercising.

"Good girl," she said. "I bet you'll be a winner - you cannot let me down like Liane did."

"Of course I won't," I snorted, standing up and jogging furiously on the spot. I barely broke a sweat, and the thought of all the tributes that were stretched out before me made me grin with a little sadistic pleasure. I wasn't a sadist - blood was gross, but I was an ambitious young girl. "Liane was a stupid daddy's girl."

"Hm, good knife thrower," Leena told me.

"I'm better," I instantly replied, finishing my morning exercises and storming out of my room so that I could enter the makeshift kitchen the Capitol gave me. With a snap of my fingers an Avox was at my side with freshly squeezed orange juice.

"What weapon is your expertise?"

"Knives, in ranged and combat," I said with a grin. I preferred range though, that way I didn't have any sticky blood touching me. I was still a little unsure about whether or not I was going to bother with training today, but intimidating a tribute did sound a lot funner.

"I'm good at knives," Luster said awkwardly as he strolled into the room. Luster was the quiet boy who was the best in the District at ranged weapons, and I assumed that he was a bit psychopathic too because most boy Careers rolled that way. "I can also use arrows, darts and crossbows."

Leena grinned, impressed by Luster's skill. I felt my being quiver with envy, but I assured myself that once Luster had to fight somebody at close combat he was as dead as a District Twelve tribute. I spent the next few minutes boasting to Leena in an attempt to impress her although she was more focused on her nails. Once it was nine o' clock and training began I decided that it was a good time to intimidate tributes.

"Woops," I giggled as I purposely threw my body into Luster, giggling as he dropped his glass of orange juice. His glass was smashed and juice flooded the floor, washing over crystallised shards of glass and being absorbed into the carpet.

"Very funny," Luster muttered with gritted teeth. He didn't put up much more of a fight and I appreciated that - I always wanted a submissive District partner just so I could bully them. I turned on my heel and smirked as I walked past Luster, feeling my feet sink into the soft carpet.

"Hope you're not going to be so clumsy in the arena," I patronised, watching as the boy's blue eyes flashed with anger.

"I hope you don't barge into people so much," he snapped back. "You're no better than the rest."

"The rest?"

"Daddy's girls," he spat, barging past me with a red face. Before he stepped into the welcoming elevator he turned to me one last time before speaking threateningly. "You're the same as any other District One - a rich girl who made it with your dad's bank account. You're not even as pretty as the usual District One female tribute, being honest. You can be as arrogant as you want, but you're not a victor."

Before I could retort the elevator doors slammed shut, and Luster was dragged away from me. I paused for a second, dumb founded. I was many things but I never did consider myself a daddy's girl. I wasn't like those other girls who wanted to win on looks alone; I didn't attend parties or shop all day, because I was a reserved person. My time was spent training for the Hunger Games.

My father was rich, he was a businessman whose goods had made a massive profit in the Capitol, but that didn't make me spoilt. I thought of how Luster's words echoed the words of my stern mother, the woman who told me I was spoilt constantly whenever my father wasn't fawning over me. I supposed that even though I wanted the thrill and the riches of the Games I wanted to show my mother that I wasn't a pretty girl who was reliant on a credit card - I was a killer-to-be.

As soon as I entered the training hall I observed the room. The ceilings were ridiculously high, as if I were in a cathedral, and the room was illuminated by high tech lighting. All of the tributes were lined up as they were lectured on their training time, but I ignored whatever that guy was yattering on about and instead moved to the Two from District Two.

"Careers?" I asked the boy, who was so busy listening he ignored me. Instead I turned to the Two girl, who had a pretty face and blue eyes. "Are you?"

"Yeah," she said.

"Good."

The training centre lecture had finished and the boy narrowed his sharp eyes at me before he straightened his posture. He breathed in once before he spoke, elaborating every words as clearly as possible.

"I suppose you're here about the Careers," he guessed wryly. I nodded before he grinned slyly. "Oh, then I'm in - naturally."

"That's three out of six," I said brightly. "The boy in my District is weak though so it would be best if we discarded him..."

"I saw him with his arrows," Archimedes calmly stated. "He could pelt them into a bullseye without so much as blinking - he has some talent." Archimedes noticed my frown before laughing. "Are you jealous? The better Careers we have on our time, the better protected we are."

And with that he called annoying, goodie goodie Luster over. I tried to vent up my fury, though I was certain that it turned my face a rather unattractive purple colour. When the tributes from Four came over, the Four boy was quick to point it out.

"Who kicked you in the balls?" He joked lightly, causing the others but Luster to snigger. How witty of him.

"If you don't be quiet," I spoke coolly and collectively. "I'll kick you in the balls, is that clear pretty boy?"

"No arguing," Archimedes snapped.

"Who made you the leader?" Blaine told Archimedes, averting his amber eyes at his rival. The two exchanged glances before I turned around and confidently pushed myself into the centre of the Career circle, so that I was in the limelight for all to hear.

"I'm the leader," I stated.

"You're a girl," Blaine said. His District partner nudged him harshly, obviously taken aback by his sexist comments. So we have an arrogant, sexist pig in the Career pack did we? I grinned, thinking about how I was going to castrate the District Four boy as soon as I had the chance.

"How about democracy," Archimedes looked at the Four boy before smirking. "All in favour of Blaine Odesius as the Career leader, raise your hand."

Naturally nobody raised their hand. Blaine glared at his District partner, expecting her to of voted, but she only bit her lip nervously under his scornful gaze. Archimedes then glanced at me with a small smirk.

"All in favour of Astrid?"

The Four girl purposely avoided Blaine's gaze as she raised her hand, but Melanthe and Luster looked at me indifferently. I had one measly vote? I faked a smile, but I knew that even democracy was in my favour - I had won the most votes, so I was the official Career leader.

"All in favour of me raise your hand," Archimedes said, looking at the other two. Naturally fate would bite me in such a way, because my idiot District partner and Archimedes' little bitch both raised their hands confidently. Archimedes' lips subtly curled up into a grin, as he knew that he had won. That had been his plan all along, using democracy to his advantage. I suddenly felt weary of Archimedes, as he was intelligent; contrary to popular belief intelligence was a dangerous thing in the Hunger Games.

"Good," he said calmly. "Lets get started - memorise some of the survival techniques." Blaine opened his lips to protest, but Archimedes held out a finger at lightning speed. "No protesting. Arrogance can only lead to a downfall. Apart from that, do what you want to do - intimidate tributes, learn how to swim, see how I care."

The Careers all dispersed in different groups. The Two and Four girls walked together and Luster and Blaine went their own way, but Archimedes halted us before we could escape. He waited until all attention was on him, successfully grabbing everyone's gaze before speaking so smoothly the whole room could hear his whispers:

"Get an eight in training, or you're not in the alliance."

"Fine," Blaine shrugged, strolling off to intimidate the District Ten tributes. I paused for a second, but I laughed off Archimedes' comments because I knew that I could easily obtain an eight. After looking around I couldn't help but grin when I noticed that Melanthe and Naomi both looked worried though. Silly girls, trying to push above their weight.

As I moved to a poisonous plants section I realised that I didn't want to be the leader anyway - leaders had to cope with the more annoying, weaker tributes. When I thought about it logically being the leader wouldn't suit me; I wanted to kill from the shadows, be the underdog of the Careers.

The Eleven girl was next to me, sorting out poisonous plants into different categories. I looked through the leaflet, feeling slightly agitated when I realised that she had gotten every plant right. So it seemed this girl knew how to live off the land, but could she live after a battle?

"Too bad that the plant rubbish won't help you fight," I hissed in her ear. "How will you fare when I lunge a knife at your throat?"

The girl laughed, snapping the book closed good-naturedly. She turned to me and flicked her hair back as she spoke. "I wouldn't cope very well."

"No, you wouldn't," I tried taunting her, but she seemed to not care about what I had to say. As a tribute wasn't I supposed to be intimidating or something? "Have you ever been stabbed before, Eleven?"

"Please," the girl snorted. "Call me Petunia. And no, but I think I'd rather be decapitated or something, that death would be more interesting, wouldn't it?" She paused and then smirked at the shocked expression on my face. She looked down at me again before turning around and walking off, leaving me in a stunned silence.

"Good one," an arrogant voice laughed behind me. I spun around and glared at the Four boy who was so tanned her resembled a skinny tangerine, and my fists automatically clenched in fury.

"What have you done then?"

"Made the Seven girl wet herself in fear," Blaine shrugged before moving past me so that he reached the range weapons section. I followed, analysing the different throwing knives as I passed them. "Don't talk to the tributes, just show them what you're made of."

"How does that scare them?" I snorted.

Blaine grabbed a knife and lunged it at the target with a big grin on his face. The knife slammed close to the centre, but it wasn't quite there. Just to intimidate Blaine I grabbed the knife and made it sink into the target with a simple flick of my wrist. Blaine's eyebrows raised up as he admired my throw, but he still looked bored.

"Do you think I'm good looking?" He asked randomly as he threw a knife at a dummy, hitting the dummy square in the chest. My hands hovered over the silver plated handle of a blade before I replied.

"You're alright," I lied. Blaine was good looking, but I was more focused on killing him than snogging him. "What's it to do with you anyway? Are you trying to seduce me or something?"

"Not quite," Blaine told me mysteriously.

I turned around and flung a knife at a target close to the Seven boy, just to irritate him. He yelped and leapt back as the knife scraped the back of his neck, though he was unharmed. Blaine and I chuckled as he shot us looks that could kill, and I gasped when I saw the vile scar that plagued half of his face. He turned back around, still scowling.

"You don't look that bad," I told Blaine.

"I figured."

"You think a lot of yourself, don't you?"

Blaine paused before he answered, trying to find the right words. I smirked, knowing that the cocky Four boy had no defence. There was an awkward silence that was filled by the sound of knives being thrown before Blaine answered rather ambiguously. "I think a lot of myself as a Hunger Games tribute, but in general I'm unsure what to think. I'm not a nice person."

"Who cares about being nice," I sniggered. "Niceness is boring and overrated."

Blaine frowned, his facade changing as he looked confused. "Yeah. I guess it is."

I thought about the times I had been nice. When I was younger I didn't really get the chance to be nice; I was the rich girl who people only wanted to befriend for power. That was the point in my life where I cut people off, and after being told I was good for nothing but being greedy for my mother I realised how bored I was with life. The Hunger Games was my only friend, and over the next few days I knew that our bond was only going to intensify.

I spent the morning at the herb station, learning about herbs and their culinary and medicinal uses with Blaine. He was an arrogant tool but he was quite cultured and interesting; he knew a lot about contemporary theatre or classical music, so naturally he reminded me of my father.

"All natural remedies contain plants," a young boy from District Six muttered to himself as he memorised the book next to me, talking to himself as Blaine pretentiously boasted about some classical novel he liked. "But not all plants produce natural remedies."

I didn't know how that would help anyone survive, but I grabbed the guide out of the boy's hand anyway. The thin pieces of paper felt smooth and crisp in my hands, and I then tore the paper apart until it lay as sharp pieces on the floor. The boy looked indifferent for a second, and then he strolled to the fire making station with a disheartened expression.

When the lunchbell rang I moved off to the table full of Careers with Blaine at my side - he was only an asset. Leader or not, I was only going to bring anarchy to Archimedes' regime. I may have had setbacks, but they were jumpable hurdles - and I was going to jump over them with style. Seconds ticked closer to the arena, and once the gong rang I was in my natural element.


Vigil Hatzardys, District 12, 18:

The food in the canteen wasn't so appealing. I could tell that it was packed full of vitamins, minerals and all that jazz, but that didn't change the desirability of the product. Even if the muck served here promised to make me win I wouldn't eat it, hypothetically speaking.

Well, I probably would.

I was pretty scared, but there was an inch of excitement that bubbled in the belly. For years I had gone of my own missions, detective ones as a sort, but I had never expected to be in such a dangerous situation such as this. I was Mr Hatzardys, teenager and detective genius. I was designed for crime fighting, not child slaughtering.

My eyes scoured the room in search for an accomplice. My whole life I had always brought someone along for the ride. I thought for a second about my friend at home; Vent was an intelligent kid who had been friends with me since I was an infant. Whenever I decided to solve a mystery he was always with me (regardless of whether we were solving a murder or finding a lost cat). Now he was gone. Now I was alone.

They said that 'irreplaceable' didn't exist. Whilst I didn't entirely agree with that I tried finding a small replacement for Vent anyway. I immediately turned away from the Careers and scoured the room for somebody young and bright.

The Five boy didn't look very bright. The Seven girl didn't either, and her mask of make-up only added to her mask of stupidity. The Nine boy looked cunning, yet deceptive. The Eleven girl wasn't particularly eye catching. But there was one girl that seemed to light up the room-

Not in an attractive way. She wasn't the prettiest canvas in the gallery yet she was the most striking, so full of colour. I watched her intently before moving over to her table and sitting down.

"Do you mind?" I asked her, although I sat down anyway.

The girl's brown eyes flickered up as she twirled spaghetti around her fork. They observed me for a short yet tense second before she smiled warmly.

"Yes," she said. "You're the boy from District Twelve aren't you?"

"Vigil," I grabbed her hand and shook it frantically. "If you want to address me professionally do call me Mr. Hatzardys."

"Okay, Mr... Vigil," the girl smiled warmly. "I'm Helen. Known professionally as Helen."

I chuckled at her joke whilst looking to her expectantly. There was the inevitable question that I wanted to ask my soon to be accomplice, although the words were difficult to muster, as if I were asking her to sign her own death warrant. "You know... I think I'd like you to train with me, would you mind that?"

Helen scooped up the last spoonful of her spaghetti, devouring it hungrily before throwing her plastic fork onto the table and smiling at me. "Yeah, that'd be nice."

I smiled at her again before speaking the next few words out nervously. "And - well... Do you want to be allies?"

Helen choked and sputtered as soon as I made the request and I immediately felt my stomach lurch. I knew I had a genius level IQ, but why would a tribute want a lanky boy from District Twelve as an ally? Still, if Helen truly was dying because of my request I could perform CPR.

Although she eventually recovered and stood up. "Why would you want to be allies with me?"

"You're a talented woman Helen," I told her, linking arms with her and leading her to a fire making station with a wide grin on my face.

"I'm not strong, athletic or even pretty," Helen told me, still puzzled by my request as we strolled past the District Five girl, who looked at us as if we were strange or something. Strange? No, I wasn't strange - everyone else was bonkers.

"You're clever, though," I told her. She opened her mouth to argue, but I just spoke out so that she was shut up. "No! Don't deny it, young lady. You are like... The salt to my pepper, the music to my lyrics and the banana to my gorilla."

"Banana?" Helen frowned. "I'm not sure I want to be compared to a banana-"

"You're either salt or music, you choose," I said impatiently. "Now Helen - you're a clever girl and even though I can take care of myself I need somebody who can cook and do all survival stuff like lighting a fire."

"You can't light a fire?" Helen smirked, moving down to her fire making kit to show me how to light a piece of wood. She grabbed something that resembled a piece of charcoal and she began doing an art I had never mastered. "For somebody intelligent you're quite stupid. So whilst I be the housewife what do you do? I doubt you charge into battle, no offence."

"I do the detective work," I smirked.

"So you're Sherlock Holmes?" Helen asked, rubbing two pieces of wood so that the friction could produce heat and light a fire. I knew the theory to everything, but putting fire starting to practice was a bit complicated for me.

"Sherlock Holmes was an amateur," I retorted dryly.

"I love the Holmes books," Helen told me, her smile being warmed by the new fire she had started. She then put out the flames and stood up, looking at me expectantly. "Do you need any other survival tips Mr. Hatzardys? I doubt detective work will kill a Career for you."

"I have plans for that lark," I told her with a smile. "Though how good are you at rope tying? I'm sufficient, but I think I need a District Ten farmhand to show me the ropes - literally speaking, of course."

Helen giggled, moving over to the knot tying station with me. Her small, shy steps were much different from my more confident, free ones. "Do you know what I think, Sherlock?"

"Don't call me th-"

"I think you're not very independent," she told me as I grabbed a knot. I looked down at the floor with a little embarrassed blush creeping onto my cheeks. I liked companionship, but I didn't like to think myself as dependant on another person. I just liked balance.

"I am independent," I told Helen. "I live by myself."

"Where?" Helen asked.

"The Coals Fume," I told her. She looked puzzled, so I elucidated. "It's an inn in District Twelve. The Inn Keeper gave me a permanent residence there if I worked as a cleaner..."

"Oh wow, I wish I was alone and cool like that," Helen smiled as she twisted the rope in front of her into a complicated knot. I glanced at the knot with admiration, knowing that its tightness and strength would be fantastic for a trap. "What's cleaning like?"

"It's alright," I muttered glumly. "It's not like detective work though - I'm not designed for it."

"You're actually a detective?" Helen's eyes widened, but then returned their gaze to an instruction booklet. Helen successfully weaved another knot, and I knew that she was definitely a useful ally even though she wasn't athletic.

"Kind of unemployed in that department," I said. "My friend Vent and I had a private investigation firm. We were paid by citizens and Peacekeepers alike to make sure that District Twelve was a great place - my folks got fed up with it though... There was always a killer on the loose that I was after, or a stolen object, it annoyed them."

"Sometimes parents can be selfish," Helen sighed. "My mother was..."

"Not selfish, they were right," I paused as painful memories I held back for so long came back with a rush of blood to the brain. My hands clenched so hard onto the rope in my hands I could feel it digging into the flesh of my palms. "They kicked me out when... When it happened."

"It happened?" Helen saw the pain in my eyes, and she put a hand on my shoulder. "You can tell me-"

"I can't."

I thought of the time where I chased after a particularly nasty thief in a coal mine, speeding through the mines in a coal cart. I became too reckless and I crashed into another cart, and the last thing I remembered was darkness consuming me. When I woke up I only had a broken foot with a nasty scar on it, but I had received the news that a family of five had died because of that crash. That made my parents snap and kick me out, but nothing was worse than the pain. My confidence in my skills was shattered and every day became a day where I questioned my morality.

Helen stopped looking at me, and her gaze was directed to a manual about water which she read. I wanted to say something to her, but I knew she didn't trust me. Not yet anyway.

My gaze was instead directed at the edible plants section. I knew a lot about edible plants - I used to research their medical purpose for emergency first aid. At the plants section the Eleven girl was showing the Seven girl a berry, before squashing it and licking the juice. The Seven girl looked confused, but then burst into laughter when the Eleven girl said something that was supposedly amusing.

A lot of these tributes were by themselves, but slowly they were linking together like gas particles. Helen noticed it too, because she glanced at the Careers.

"Alliances are dangerous," she spoke. "For the other tributes and the allies themselves."

The bell rung and Helen smiled at me weakly. First day of training was over and I learnt a good few things, and that was always useful. "You're in an alliance."

"I was taking a risk," Helen admitted, and I had to feel sorry for her when I noticed that her hands were trembling with nerves. "Well, I suppose I ought to go."

"Bye," I smiled and moved away from Helen, moving as quickly and swiftly as I usually did. I was almost at the door when Helen - looking sick with nerves - called my name.

"Vigil," she said. "Please don't let me down..."

I opened the door of the almost empty training centre without further ado. It was probably rude, just leaving her alone in that room, but I didn't know if I could trust myself with Helen. She was fragile, that much was clear. I'd broken people before - I killed five people and my mind was plagued with it constantly.

"What's bitten you in the ass?"

I looked at Reed, who was in the elevator next to me. She twirled her brown hair around her fingers for a second. I didn't reply, all I did was close my eyes and listen to the hum of the rising elevator. With a ping the elevator doors slid open and I moved out.

For someone so tiny Reed speedy, and she was right in front of me with a scowl on her face. "I asked you a question, I expect an answer."

"You're hardly consoling Reed," I told her angrily. "Just leave me alone."

"I get sad too..."

"You're always scowling."

"Well I'm sorry," Reed was too small to grab my shoulders, but she grabbed my arms and used all of her strength to yank me back. I turned around and glared at the small girl bitterly as she spoke. "If you keep things bottled they're only going to eat away at you. I'm not going to kill you about it... Yet."

"How pleasant," I said, inhaling the air before talking. "Reed Ardice, have you ever felt like you're not good enough for somebody. Have you ever felt so... So closed... So horrid, you doubt you'd ever make them happy?"

Reed smiled. "Are you in love?"

I snorted. "No, love is for the whimsical and the insane. I'm just doubtful."

"Then prove yourself wrong," Reed shrugged as if I were an idiot. She opened the door to her room and her dull green eyes lingered on me for a second before she spoke. "If you think there's something wrong with yourself you should never let it continue like that. You gotta prove yourself in Panem Mr. Hatzardys. Nobody is going to change the bad for you."

Reed walked into her room, and her words kept revolving around in my mind. I didn't like the things I had done in the past, but I knew that I didn't like the paranoia and lack of self belief that followed. The worst part was that it would've prevented any chance of winning immediately. I moved into my room with a smile, thinking of Helen - she was a nice girl who didn't deserve to go into the Games. Neither were the other twenty two, but I was going to win it.

I had a secret - yet stupid - love for danger. It helped a lot when I needed to be brave, and I needed to have all the courage I could muster. I glanced out of my window into the star ridden sky, with all my thoughts focused on what the Games were going to be like. Adventurous, perhaps even quite fun with an ally by my side.

Despite my reassurances I knew that I was wrong.

"Hello," there was a knock on the door and my escort walked in. Lillian McNicks was a quiet but nice escort who instructed us in a voice that distinguished between warm and threatening. She was short with curly dirty blonde hair and a weak smile. "Are you okay Vigil?"

"Hm," I muttered, still staring at the sky.

"The stars are beautiful aren't they?" Lillian looked at the window before hesitantly stepping forwards. She held out a slip of paper shakily, trying to keep her voice steady. "There's a Hunger Games tribute guide here."

"What does it do?" I asked, watching as my breath turned into frosty looking condensation in the window, blocking the reflection of my mysterious eyes and slick, brown hair. It was weird to think that Helen and Reed would be dead soon. As a fighter of crime shouldn't I make sure everyone safe instead of focusing on my own survival? This was like a twist of fate that even I couldn't change.

"Tells you the procedure you'll be going through," Lillian said. "About scores and interviews, about their utmost importance. It also has the Games' rules on here - although there aren't very many..."

"Don't eat tributes, don't try to escape the arena," I rolled my eyes and turned to Lillian. "Anything else?"

"If a change of rules are announced they must be followed," Lillian told me with a weak smile. "This includes feasts, random announcements and/or Quarter Quell twists."

"Thanks Lillian."

"And it has information about the tributes..." Her voice quavered as she placed the slip of form down on a coffee table. "Reed found it interesting, I'm pretty sure you'd enjoy it too..."

I thought of the information in that leaflet as Lillian excused herself and walked out of the room; every word about those tributes was so important for survival, yet heart wrenching. The chill air from outside filled the room and allowed me to think of what I wanted to do - read about a victim's or killer's family, favourite colour or measurements? I didn't want to do that. The moment I knew the tiniest detail about a tribute was the moment they stopped being a faceless tribute and shifted into a person.

And my slight guilt for Helen still continued. She was too nice for her own good and I already had a brief glimpse of her life in District Ten - what if I knew everything about her before she was stabbed and killed? Could I live with that? Would it be as unbearable as the carting accident I had not so long ago?

I turned to the tenth page of the manual, looking at the pictures of Helen that were scattered over her info page. She was only fourteen and there were pictures of her as an infant and a smiling, growing girl around the random information the Gamemakers had typed. How could the Capitol look at pictures of a girl like that and still sentence her to death?

I frowned and disgust and made my decision. My hands curled up into the ball and I compressed the tribute guide into a small, rough sphere before throwing it in the flames, letting the embers soak up the essence of the paper before destroying it completely.

If only the Games were so easy to burn.


Well...

Writing this is going to be a lot easier now, as school is out (but I still have exams - don't question the British education system, it's just ridiculous).

I still get a lot of reviews, but the amount has declined. You're either bored or you want your own/favourite character to die ;) only about 8-9 chapters until the bloodbath now. You know what - I won't update till I have 14 reviews, and I'll update as soon as I get 145 overall reviews - beat that ;)

~Toxic

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