I do not own the Hunger Games. The tributes belong to their respective submitters.

Arena Day 2 - Pre-dawn, Early Morning, Noon

Grow up, children, don't you suffer

At the hands of one another

Lapis Maccolade, District Four Male

I'm pretty sure that neither Amelithe nor Adonis are sleeping, even though they're excellent pretenders. I understand their lack of trust, considering how easy it would be to kill them if they let their guard down. Regardless, they can't stay awake forever, and when the time comes, I might just take advantage of their vulnerability. It all depends on how everything works out.

"I spy," Azure says, flicking the tip of her sai across the shallow water, "with my little eye, something that is... blue."

I suppress the urge to roll my eyes. "The sky."

"No. Besides, sunrises are orange."

"I was referring to the other half of the sky. Y'know. The side that's actually blue."

"Doesn't matter. It isn't the sky. Keep guessing."

Letting my head roll back onto my shoulders, I stare up at the golden clouds, mouth agape. "The ocean."

"No. Technically, the ocean isn't blue, anyways. It's just a reflection of the sky. Which isn't blue, either."

I wave my hand dismissively. "Technicalities." Regardless, I venture another guess. "What about our outfits?"

"No. Getting warmer."

"Your eyes."

She lets out an exaggerated sigh. "I can't see my own eyes, dummy."

"Well, maybe you'd have better luck if every mirror didn't shatter before you got a chance to see your reflection."

She playfully splashes water at my face. "You're one to talk. Whenever the wind picks up, I'm afraid you'll get carried away on those parachute ears of yours. Not to mention the fact I could land a hovercraft on your forehead."

"Oh, yeah?" I search for a decent retort, but none come to mind. Monotonous things like sentry duty tends to drain my creativity. "Well, at least I'm not short."

Jumping to her feet, Azure points her sai at me and narrows her eyes, only half-joking. "You wanna go, Maccolade?" She smacks her balled fist against her chest, careful to avoid the sharpened point of the weapon. "You're looking at the hand-to-hand combat champ, as deemed by the academy two years running."

"Female champ. The male was crowned separately."

"And if you'll notice, he isn't here right now."

Because he chickened-out when push came to shove. I smile, but it's more out of derision than amusement. "It doesn't matter how strong or capable he was. Langley didn't volunteer. I did. And that's what matters."

A beat of silence passes and she lowers her sais, the fire from ten seconds ago now burnt out. "Before the ceremony, he told me that he couldn't choose to leave his mom and sister in good conscience. He'd rather deal with the consequences of breaking the academy contract than the consequences of ultimate failure." She inhales deeply, puffing out her chest, and brings her gaze to meet mine. "At least he had his priorities straight."

I scoff. "What, are you saying that family is more important than victory?"

"I said his priorities. Not mine." For a moment I expect her to continue, maybe talk about her own family, but she remains silent and simply stares out at the ocean as if she'll find some meaning there. Honestly, I kind of hoped she'd speak about her siblings or parents, if she even has any. I want to understand her motivations, what makes her tick. Any information of the sort would be advantageous.

I follow her line of sight to the rocky shore adjacent to our side of the lagoon. Something catches the pale light in a flash of orange, and I narrow my eyes.

"Did you see that?" I ask, rising to my feet.

Azure crinkles her nose. "See what?"

It's too dark to make out any distinct shapes among the jagged rocks, but I swear I saw something. A tribute, probably. The light must have reflected off of their weapon, or some other metallic surface. Unless I'm going crazy, which is entirely possible. The arenas are designed to mess with our minds, after all.

"I'm going to go check it out."

To my surprise, I see concern in the warning look she gives me. "That's a bad idea."

"No worse than any of my other bad ideas. You're free to come along if you'd like."

"We're supposed to stay here and stand guard," she says, half-whispering. A little more coldly, she adds, "Someone has to make sure that no one kills our allies or steals our supplies."

Of course. She and Adonis are still upset that Amelithe and I supposedly abandoned our posts to look for other tributes during the bloodbath. But I think she's wrong. Just because they got higher training scores doesn't mean that they're the only ones who deserve to have any fun.

Hopping into the shallow water with a light splash, I shrug. "Then you can stay behind."

"Curiosity killed the cat," she says, and I detect no lightheartedness in her words. For once, she'd completely serious.

I raise my rapier in reply and hold it over my head in mock-salute. "And satisfaction brought it back."

Venera Toulley, District Two Female

Sebastian leans against the boulder, hardly breathing, and risks a glance around the corner. His grip tightens around the bow, knuckles turning white from the pressure.

"This is your stupidest decision in a long line of stupid decisions," I say, not bothering to conceal the irritation in my voice. "If you wanted to get away from Seven, we should have just killed them in their sleep. At least that would have meant two fewer competitors to deal with."

He cuts me a narrowed glare. "When did I say that I wanted to get away from them? I didn't. You merely assumed that was my intent. And you assumed incorrectly."

I lean back against the rock and close my eyes, letting myself sink into the dry sand. "Enlighten me, then."

"I don't like your tone."

"You don't like my anything."

He sneers and turns away. "Your voice least of all."

Even though I can't see my fingernails very well in the low light, I make a show of inspecting them, hoping to piss him off with my flippancy. "Give me some credit, Sebastian. I doubt this is just a surveillance operation." His resulting silence tells me that I'm right. I sigh, rolling my eyes up at the sky. "If that was your plan all along, we didn't have to walk all the way out here to watch them pick their noses. And you aren't dumb enough to waste time and energy like that. Which leads me to believe that you wanted to leave Seven, but get a good glimpse of the Pack in the process." Still, he refuses to answer me, so I add, "What? Am I wrong?"

Blotches of color appear along the ridge of his cheekbones, and I gain a small sliver of satisfaction from seeing his mask of composure slip, even if it's just a little bit. "I figured that they don't pose much of a threat, and their only true crimes are idiocy and insufferably annoying antics. No need to commit such treachery."

"So killing people in their sleep is a dirty, underhanded tactic, but snapping some scrawny fourteen-year-old's neck isn't?"

"No, it isn't," he answers, an edge of contempt in his voice.

I cock an eyebrow. "Do I detect a hint of unbridled emotion?"

"What you mistake for a lack of self-control is actually nothing more than exasperation. Now, will you kindly..." He whips around to face me, fringe of dark hair twirling with him, but his gaze darts above my head, and the gears under his face grind to fear. His freckles stand out like flecks of dirt against his pallid skin. "Oh, fuck."

Grabbing the poniard, I whirl around to find Lapis Maccolade standing on the ledge above me, staring down at us with an unsettling combination of hatred, confusion, and horror. The rapier in his left hand twitches, and the hair along the nape of my neck stands on end, my flesh awash with prickling adrenaline. He'll kill me if given the chance, which means I have to kill him first.

Do or die, Toulley.

On impulse, I bury the blade in his ankle, and the resulting shriek of pain shatters the illusion of early morning calm. Before his rapier finds my shoulder, I grab the back of his calf and pull, throwing him off balance, and he falls. His head cracks against the stone, and he cries out once more.

"Lapis!" screams a high, terrified voice, distant but close enough to cause concern. Azure.

"Take care of her!" I croak, grappling with Lapis's struggling form. Flecks of light burst across my vision as his foot connects with the side of my head, but he's disoriented, and the blow isn't as strong as it could have been. Latching on to his leg, I use my full weight to drag him over the ledge. His arm catches on the stone, flesh tearing in two parallel ravines, and he hits the sand with a surprisingly loud thump.

I don't register the flash of metal until a piercing pain shoots up my forearm. I inhale sharply, the briny air hissing through my teeth as my heartbeat pulses at the edge of my vision. Lapis grins with triumph and bloody teeth, though he struggles to get to his feet. Clutching my arm, I kick him in the chest, and he falls against the unforgiving wall of rock with a suppressed gasp. As I stoop low to catch my breath, forcing the pain aside, something whizzes past my ear and an arrow lodges in Lapis's chest, avoiding his heart but hitting close enough to cause serious damage. He doesn't scream this time. Rather, he stares at the projectile with wonderment, as if he can't believe what he's seeing.

Either I kill him now, or I kill him later. Now entail immediate guilt on my part. Later entails suffering on his part. And both entail ending his life.

Might as well be now.

The poniard, as if guided by someone else's hand, finds the underside of Lapis's jaw, and sinks deep into the soft flesh of his throat.

His death isn't like the transition from day to night. It's more like flipping a switch. The light leaves him immediately. His eyes go dark, and he slumps back in a bloody heap of newly dead flesh. His cannon sounds a few seconds afterward, rocking the air with numb finality.

I expected something more. Regret, maybe. Guilt, definitely. But I feel next to nothing. Is this how Sebastian felt after killing the boy from Thirteen? Is this why he seems so unperturbed? Or will it get worse later on? The adrenaline probably dulls the edge. But if this nothingness is simply my natural reaction... sociopaths tend to deal well with violence and trauma such as this. It would be to my advantage.

"Venera!"

Sebastian's cry drags me back to the situation at hand. He nocks an arrow, body taught with tension, and pulls the bowstring back to his ear, the tendons of his hand pressing against the skin like metal wires. His bared teeth flash white in the low light, and his fingers uncurl, releasing the projectile. I don't know which of the two approaching figures he was aiming for.

The arrow catches the side of Adonis's neck, throwing him off-balance, and his hand darts to the injury. Rivulets of blood seep through his fingers, and his lips pull back in a pained grimace. Hopefully, Sebastian hit something important.

Azure's attention momentarily shifts to her ally, giving us time to escape. I don't know how long this window of opportunity will last, but if we don't take it now, we'll likely pay for the mistake with our lives.

I leap forward, grabbing Sebastian's wrist as I did during the bloodbath, and head for the thick swathe of trees. He stumbles after me, perfectly capable of supporting himself, but don't I release him until the jungle obscures us from the others. They cannot catch us. If they do, we are as good as dead.

Amelithe Arvantis, District One Female

I press my hand against Adonis's neck, distantly wondering how much blood he can lose before he becomes completely useless. Surely all of this red accounts for something? On my hands, on his chest. He can't last forever.

He hisses with pain as I pinch the torn skin together. I hold my hand out expectantly, and Azure places the needle and thread in the center of my palm. Granted, I'm no nurse, but some help is better than no help at all.

Oddly, Adonis doesn't acknowledge the needle as it pierces his skin, again and again, while I stitch him back together like a patchwork doll.

Crimson bubbles up from the injury, slipping between the black threads. Did the arrow nick an artery? No, it couldn't have. He'd be dead by now. But he's pallid, obviously suffering as he grits his teeth against pain that will not stop.

He's vulnerable.

The realization digs its claws deep and won't let go. He's arguably my most formidable adversary, the tribute to beat, and I'm so close to his exposed neck that I can feel the heat rising from his skin. He's so weakened by blood loss and pain that I could split open his arteries and kill him right here. What's stopping me? District loyalty? Careers rarely demonstrate such concern for one another. Azure? I'm sure she knows why Adonis poses such a danger to us. She'd understand.

Or maybe she wouldn't. Murdering an ally in cold blood tends to be a deal-breaker. And I still have use of my district partner. Even injured, he's probably stronger than Azure and me combined, let alone individually. We'll need him in the future.

Not yet, I decide, pulling the stitches so tight that Adonis winces.

I step back to admire my handiwork. Considering my only prior medical experience came from pre-arena training, I think I did a pretty good job. "You're all set."

He runs his fingers along the ridge of puckered, bloody skin, and gives a slight nod. "Thank you."

The pain must be messing with his head. He'd never observe such social graces otherwise. Unless his Career persona is all an act for the cameras. It's a possibility. He isn't stupid. There's an authenticity behind his cruelty, though, that no actor could ever produce, no matter the extent of their talent. His violence is inborn.

"I saw the boy from Two," he says, hiding a razorblade behind his composed tone, "but I didn't see the other one. Did you?"

Azure looks at me, trying to decide whether he should know. I nod, and she answers, "Yes. It was Venera."

His eyes look green in the orange light of sunrise. It's a poisonous color. "Which one of them killed Lapis?"

"We don't know," Azure says, shaking her head. Her lower lip trembles and the corners of her eyes shimmer with tears, but her voice remains steady. "There was an arrow in his chest, but his throat was slashed, too. Either injury could have ended his life."

Adonis remains still, considering her words. "Do we know where Padoa and Jorah are?"

"Nope," I say. "But I don't think they were with Two."

He opens his mouth to answer, most likely with a snide comment, but the beeping of a sponsor gift cuts him off. Azure snatches the canister from the sky and pops it open. Even from where I stand, the acrid smell of powerful medicine assaults my nose, plastering itself to the back of my throat, and I involuntarily gag on the bitter taste.

"It's for you," she says, handing it to Adonis.

Surprised, he scans the note, and a beat of silence passes before his face contorts in disgust. "Oh, give me a break." Twisting the cap back on, he holds the gift up for the invisible cameras. "Pain medication? Really, Lourde? I thought you were smarter than that." He sets it down beside him. "You want to help me? Send a pressure-sensitive explosive to Sebastian, and program it to go off in his smug-"

"Whoa, now," I say, clasping my hands together to keep myself from throttling him. "That's hardly fair."

"Neither is pitting a bunch of kids against trained assassins, but I don't see you complaining."

"I'm sure the sponsors love it when you go on your little tirades," I say, my words slipping through gritted teeth.

"If they're gonna keep sending useless shit like this," he says, gesturing to the pain meds, "then I really don't care one way or the other." And there's the jerk from training, rearing his ugly head. Too bad. I wouldn't have minded a little while longer with the nice version.

I pick up the canister to inspect the pills, and to my surprise, find a note at the bottom addressed to me. It's odd that Adonis missed it. The style is unfamiliar, but then again, I didn't have time to memorize our mentor's handwriting.

Amelithe - They aren't just for pain. They'll maintain order. Two at a time. Use wisely. - Trance

The meaning isn't lost on me, but did he really have to tell me to use the pills wisely? That seems like wasted letters to me, but whatever. I'm not complaining. A gift is a gift.

Adonis isn't interested in taking them, though. Nice plan, Trance, but that bit is rather important.

My eyes dart to one of the freshwater canteens. Maybe he doesn't have to know. He's big. He's strong. And what's to stop him from killing me and Azure once we outlive our usefulness? Absolutely nothing. He has no honor, no sense of camaraderie. Back at the academy, he wasn't known for his compassion or clarity of thought. And that hasn't changed.

I take a couple of the white capsules from the metal container, and pop the lid back on before the others notice. I roll them between my fingers until they turn to powder, and while Adonis isn't looking, I mix the pills in with the water and swirl the container until the liquid becomes clear once more. Dipping my fingers in the ocean water to eliminate the evidence, I take a steadying breath. He won't know. He can't.

"Want some water?" I ask, holding the canteen out to him, and I desperately hope that I'm only imagining the quiver in my voice.

He glares up at me, then down at the glass bottle in my hand, deciding whether or not it's trustworthy. My stomach drops as he reaches out and takes the offering. What if I've made the wrong decision? It's too late to change my mind now.

"Thanks," Adonis says, lowering his eyes as he downs half of the canteen.

I glance at Azure, and immediately wish I hadn't. Her eyes are so wide, her eyelashes are practically touching her eyebrows. She knows.

And yet, she did nothing to stop me.

Julian Mardale, District Eight Male

A hummingbird - or a muttation that looks like a hummingbird - hovers over one of the brilliantly hued tropical flowers, wings moving so fast that they're nothing more than a green blur. I allow myself a small smile. District Eight doesn't have many hummingbirds, and the few I had the privilege to see all seemed sick and scraggly, unlike the beautiful and healthy bird before me.

It flies over, darting through the air, and whistles at me with apparent annoyance, like I've done something wrong. I furrow my brow, growing suspicious of the potential muttation. But it loses interest and zooms off before I have the chance to question the creature's motives any further.

"Do you think these are edible?" Valorie asks, holding up a handful of fruit. "They look like blackberries, but I'm not so sure."

"Then don't eat them. We can take note of this location, and keep looking around for less questionable food. If we don't find any, then we can try the blackberries."

She purses her lips. "Okay." The fruit slips from her fingers, hitting the sandy dirt with barely-audible thuds. She knows that it could be poisoned, but her disappointment is still evident in her furrowed brow. They aren't called the Hunger Games for nothing.

Lying back in the dirt, I spot bits of shockingly blue sky, visible through gaps in the dense canopy. No clouds. In fact, I haven't seen a cloud in the past day or so we've been here. Perhaps it's meant to uphold the illusion of a tropical paradise. Or maybe the gamemakers want us to become accustomed to this nice weather, only to make our lives miserable later on with rain and lightning and whatnot. Assuming we live that long, of course.

I twiddle my thumbs, thinking of my home and family. I want my friends and family to miss me, but I simultaneously don't want them to suffer on my behalf. The idea of Kallyn or Byron pining over the absence of their big brother is almost too much to bear. Mother and Father, too. Even Jacob and Alexis. If something does happen to me, yeah, it'd be a downer. But I don't want them to waste their emotions on something that's out of their control.

Groaning, I press my hands against my eyes. I hate this place. I hate everything about it. Except for Valorie. She's okay.

"Hey, Julian?"

"What?" My hands muffle my voice, but I make no attempt to move them.

"If you win, what's the first thing you'd do once you got home?"

"Breathe, technically."

I hear her sigh. "Okay, fine. What's the first significant thing you'd do?"

"Hug my family and let them know how much I love them. And then I'd hug my friends."

"What would you do next?"

Attend your funeral.

The thought crops up before I can push it down, and even though it makes my blood runs cold, I know it's the truth. If one of us wins, the other has to die. So I lie instead. "I'd move my family into my new house. Our current one is a bit too small for five people." I drag my hands down my face and look at her. "What would you do?"

Grinning, she looks out across the ocean with eyes that match the sky. "I'd buy a cat."

"Really?"

She nods. "I've always wanted one, but they're too expensive. So, if I had the money, I'd get a cat."

I almost respond, but a noise catches me off-guard. Leaping to my feet, I grab my pack, eyes darting across the wall of jungle in an attempt to identify the source. It could have been ambient, but the sinking feeling in my gut tells me otherwise.

"What is it?" Valorie asks, clearly alarmed. Great. Now she's scared, too. Nice going, Mardale.

The breath catches in my throat as a pale blue figure darts through the trees. That color outfit belongs to District Two.

Another flash of color, and I catch sight of the girl's face. She stares back with surprise. Maybe I imagine the twitching smirk, but I figure that it's better not to stick around and find out.

"We need to leave," I say, pulling Valorie up from the ground. I turn around. The Careers are drawing closer. "Two is here to kill us."

She rises alongside me, and we take off into the forest together. I don't even know where we're headed, but anywhere is better than where the Careers are.

Leaves and branches whip my face and arms, tearing at my skin, but I can't waste thought on the pain. Valorie pants beside me, arms flailing with exertion. If it comes down to it, I'll carry her if I have to. Escape is our number one priority.

After a minute of full-on sprinting, I come to a halt beside a huge mangrove tree, desperate to catch my breath. Ahead, there lies a rather large trench, likely carved out by a river. Actually, it was probably created by the gamemakers, but it looks like a ravine nonetheless. I turn back to speak to Valorie and make sure she's okay. But she isn't there. She's gone.

"Valorie!" I call, trying to keep my voice low, lest the Careers hear me. Cold fear seeps through my gut, crowding out the hope that I've so desperately clung to for the past five days. I need to find her, but I don't know where she's gone.

A terrible scream rises from the jagged tear in the earth, the noise laden with terrified agony, and my heart constricts.

Valorie.

Fenby Frost, District Ten Female

Blood courses between my fingers, pouring from the gouge in the girl's chest as her skin turns to white marble. She looks up at me, mouth working like a stranded fish even though no words escape her. Fiery red hair cascades down her back, some of it clotted with blood, and the sick knot in my chest pulls tighter. She isn't who I thought she was.

Her fingers dig into my shirt, catching my skin, but I don't care. A low, frightened gasp escapes her, and the fingers loosen. Her body goes limp, and the cannon sounds. I release a strained sob.

A figure races towards me, arms pumping at his sides. It's the boy from Eight. When he catches sight of me, he skids to an ungraceful stop, glaring at the body in my arms with absolute horror. He takes a faltering step backwards, pressing himself against the wall to keep from falling. I set her on the ground, unable to bear the weight any longer.

"Fenby?!" Sterling rounds another corner, face displaying such intense concern that it makes me physically sick. It won't last much longer. His gaze fall to the girl's body, and he comes to a halt. The whites of his eyes glow blue in the half-light, and whatever he was about to say dies on his parted lips.

We stare at each other, standing deathly still.

I sense the accusation even before he speaks. "What have you done?"

It's more of a whisper than a question. He knows exactly what I've done. And so do I.

"I thought she was the girl from Two," I say, realizing how ridiculous the claim sounds only after it leaves my mouth. But it's the truth. They have similar body types, and the lighting made it impossible to distinguish their facial features or hair color. Excuses. Pathetic excuses. I reacted too early, I panicked, and now the girl from Eight is dead, with my knife buried in her chest.

Her district partner's gaze never leaves the still form at our feet. I wince as he draws a ragged, drowning breath, the glimpse of rain before a flood. I don't even know his name. I didn't know the girl's name, either. And what if I did? No apology can fix this mistake.

Sterling steps to the side, his expression holding something akin to fury, but not quite. It's too gentle, too cold. "Leave."

For a heart-breaking moment, I fear he's speaking to me, having decided that I'm no longer welcome in the alliance that I built. But his gaze lingers on the boy from Eight, and I breathe a momentary sigh of relief.

Dazed, he navigates the wall with trembling hands and quaking legs, obviously uncomfortable with the idea of leaving his ally behind. But he has no other choice. As Sterling watches him stumble into the open jungle, I realize that what I see in his expression is utter disappointment. He's disappointed in me. Or perhaps not me, so much as the possibilities that have died alongside the girl: forgiveness, trust, camaraderie.

Victory. Hers, maybe mine.

I'm disappointed, too. Even though I knew it wasn't impossible, I had allowed myself to hope that I could win without shedding blood. I think it's the secret hope of all the tributes, at least the ones who don't volunteer. It's naïve, it's ridiculous, it's impossible. But hope is an irrational thing, very difficult to kill. And to feel that tiny ember die under the weight of my actions hurts more than I ever thought it could.

"It was an accident," I say, though the oppressive silence immediately swallows my words. After a few seconds I begin to wonder if I even spoke at all.

Alina clears her throat, face ashen. "We know."

"It doesn't matter," Sterling says, voice forged from steel. I can't tell if he's referring to the fact that I killed her, or the fact it was an accident. His lips twitch down in an agonized, split-second grimace, but his expression immediately lightens, and he turns his attention to the dense canopy of trees above us. He won't meet my gaze. "We should leave. So they can take the body."

I waste no time in leaving the trench. I don't want my mistake to keep staring at me with dead eyes.

When I pause to make sure my allies are following, Sterling shoulders past me, eyes set on the path ahead. He doesn't spare me a second glance.

Even if he'd listen to me, I don't know what I'd say. I know how difficult it is to trust people who withhold information and surround themselves with half-truths. But I only did it to protect myself and my allies. If the Careers knew about my training, it would place an even bigger target on my back, and therefore on the backs of Sterling, Barnabas, Alina, and Nix. Caesar's reveal during my interview ruined that plan, and placed my alliance in a precarious position. I knew that I had to tread lightly if they were ever again going to treat me like a true ally.

I overheard Alina's conversation with Sterling last night. She almost had him convinced. Maybe she did. He treated me differently this morning, like he had during training, before he knew the truth behind the lie. I had been so close.

Whatever chance I had, it's gone now. And I killed it.

Alina wraps her hand around mine. "Come on, Fenby. We need to go."

I comply without protest.

I've seen what a man can do

I've seen all the hate of a woman, too

The lyrics are from the song "Vanishing Point" by New Order

Lapis Maccolade, District Four Male; Killed by Venera Toulley - Placed 21st

Valorie Hollin, District Eight Female; Killed by Fenby Frost - Placed 20th

Lapis was one of the more difficult characters to capture, I'll be honest. I feel like I softened the sharp edges of his character a little more than I probably should have, but I still had fun writing him. Either way, I'll miss him.

Valorie, on the other hand, was one of the characters who I didn't really appreciate until I realized how versatile a few of her traits were. So, I took it and ran. But her usefulness had run its course. I enjoyed writing her relationship with Julian, and it helped push their development, which I consider a win.

Any ideas for what Axiom could be?

And what four tributes do you NOT want to see in the final fifteen?

Thanks for reading! Let me know what you think.