Hello People of the World,

I am now attempting to update every 1-3 days. I want to get as many chapters up as possible before school starts, so you should be getting bombarded with updates. :P

Please go vote on my poll!I should be hitting the arena in three or four more chapters, and I really need to know who to kill off. So please, pretty please, with a cherry on top, GO VOTE!

Now, let's talk about the chapter. For the people who have reviewed saying that they miss the Reapings, I have created a show called the Capitol Recap. In this show, Caesar Flickerman plays clips of the Reapings and comments on them. So, I hope you enjoy!


Caesar Flickerman- Interview Host

"Caesar, we're beginning in ten minutes," a metallic voice from my earpiece informs me. I tap the button on the left to let them know that I'm ready.

"Caesar, my love! We need to add the finishing touches!" Priscilla, my stylist shrieks. I flash her a smile, artfully disguising my distaste for her. I am yanked into a sitting position on the plush chair, and my face is attacked by a dozen different brushes, pencils, and pastes.

Priscilla snips at my wig and dyes it again, to return it to its former glory of lime green. In a minute or two, the flurry of stylists passes by, and I'm standing backstage, ready to go out.

"Three minutes!" I fluff the wig self-consciously and take another look at myself in the full-length mirror. A smooth, flawless face that looks not a day over thirty beams at me. The face that all of Panem has come to love.

"Thirty seconds!" I compose myself, rehearsing my signature greeting internally. As the lights flash in front of me, I take a deep breath and put on my most brilliant smile.

Suddenly, the doors burst open, and I can see the stage.

"Ladies and gentlemen, you're host... Caesar Flickerman!" a loud voice calls. Thunderous applause begins as I waltz onto the stage, grinning and winking cheekily at everyone. With an elaborate, sweeping bow, I position myself on my designated red, plush chair.

"Welcome, Panem, to the Capitol Recap!" I shout, spreading my arms to them. Screams of adoration reach my ears, making my heart swell. "Welcome! Welcome!" I repeat, taking in the sight of every single pierced, painted, plucked, and plastic citizen.

The cheers don't die down for even a second, so I raise my voice.

"Let's get start-ed!" I exclaim. As soon as I utter the last syllable, a projection of the Capitol seal appears for the convenience of the audience as well as myself.

The anthem plays, and the seal dissolves and transitions into the lavish, well-decorated stage of District One.

"District One! What a District! They've got gems and jewels galore, and most importantly, some terrific-looking tributes! This year, we've got Luster Blackwell and Topaz Barton!" The audience goes wild as soon as I say the tributes' names. The clip of the Reaping starts to play.

The escort dips her fingers into the girl bowl, a smile frozen on her face. With a flourish, she draws the name, and as soon as she opens her lips, a mad dash to get to the stage begins. The audience watches gleefully as Topaz and another girl run neck and neck. Right before they reach the steps, Topaz kicks out her leg, cutting the other girl with her high heel. For a second, the other one trying to volunteer falters, and Topaz runs onto the stage.

"Topaz! Topaz Barton!" her voice rings. As the escort moves on to the next bowl, Topaz takes a moment to pat her hair into place and adjust her dress, which has become wrinkled in the frenzy.

As before, a stampede of boys rushes to get ahead as soon as the escort makes a sound. This time, the race is much more violent. Several young men are punching, kicking, and even biting, causing flows of blood everywhere. However, one boy jogs with ease onto the stage, ahead of the pack the whole time.

"Luster Blackwell, your next victor!" Luster's face breaks into a grin, and he turns to shake hands with Topaz.

"I beg to differ!" Topaz retorts loudly.

"Now, now! Let's not start any fights! A nice handshake ought to do it," the escort bubbles, hurrying to smooth over the issue. Wearing a frighteningly sweet smile, Topaz extends a manicured hand. With that, the clip ends, and the screen fades to black.

"Now, we're already seeing some tension building up, aren't we?" I ask with a cocky smile. "And we're only on the first district! Moving right along to District Two, from which we have the honor to receive Warrior Fantao and Quarry Jacobs!" The room seems about to burst from all of the noise as the next video begins.

The clip starts right as the girls are sprinting towards the stage, zooming in on young Quarry, whose expression is one of utter concentration. Quarry pumps her arms, lashing out at anyone near her, and then flinging herself onto the stage.

She then dusts herself off and announces her name proudly. "Quarry Jacobs." The escort smiles and turns to the next bowl. As usual, a wave of boys wanting to volunteer starts, but three boys are tied for first place. Even as they reach the steps, neither one of them hesitates.

The three squeeze past each other onto the stage, but the boy who must be Warrior leaps ahead and lands right in front of the microphone.

"Warrior Fantao!" he gasps, bending over and pressing his hands to his knees. The other two leave the stage, glaring violently at him. Looking immensely proud, Warrior sticks out a hand, which Quarry takes in a handshake.

They look each other in the eye, conveying a passionate hatred, but maintaining a smile for show. The video ends with a zoomed in shot of the two tributes making eye contact.

"Well, I can almost feel the pressure! I'm sure you all can say the same!" My comment is met by more enthusiastic clapping.

Not wanting to waste any time, I start speaking immediately. "Now, we'll take a look at the brains of Panem! And by that, I mean, District Three, the home of Fuse Browning and Circuit Fleming!"

This time, you can clearly see the look of panic on all of the faces in the square. Each pair of eyes is trained on the escort, filled with fear and anxiety.

"Ladies first, as always!" the low voice intones. The man digs his plump hand into the bowl, mixing up each slip and finally choosing one. "Circuit Fleming!" he reads.

The scrawny-looking redhead skips onto the stage, a confident look in her steely eyes. The escort bows his head at her, mentioning that she's "and enthusiastic young lady", to which Circuit responds with a nod.

"And now the gentlemen!" Once again, the hand is bathed in slips, plucking one with eagerness. "Fuse Browning!" A voice or two cries out, but without much hassle, the male tribute joins Circuit on the stage. Fuse visibly quakes as Circuit grabs his hand and squeezes it with a smile that belongs on a Career's face.

"Not exactly what you were expecting from that district, was it?" I inquire. More noise. "I definitely wasn't expecting that! But now, let's view the Reapings from District Four! Something there seemed a little fishy!" The audience groans good-naturedly at my purposely corny joke, but quiets once the next video rolls.

A lady died entirely blue plunges her hands into the female bowl. Her nails which are made to look like shells latch on to a single slip.

Yet another race starts, though not nearly as violent as the ones in the first two districts. A strong, well-built girl announces her name as Marina Welch, and waits patiently as she is joined by the male volunteer.

"These year's tributes, Marina Welch and Tide Watson!" The two shake hands, both holding on a little tighter than necessary.

"I do believe we have two more tributes to keep a close eye on! But now, let's meet two more! Surge Hallow and Buzz Diomede from the Power District!" I boom.

The fearful look on faces returns as the escort swirls her fingers around in a bowl. Purposely adding suspense, she grabs a slip and begins to open it, but then drops it back into the bowl. She takes another one and opens it agonizingly slowly. I frown at her. There's a difference between building suspense and just plain torturing people.

"Surge Hallow!" The name hangs in the air for a moment, before a high-pitched wail pierces the atmosphere.

"No, Surge!" a young, female voice cries. The tribute from District Five walks purposefully up to the stage, but the pain in her eyes is evident.

"Surge!" A little girl bursts from the crowd and runs towards the stage. Peacekeepers hold her back, but her piteous sobs can still be heard.

The hand goes back in, but immediately grabs a slip this time. "Buzz Diomede!" For several moments, no one comes forward, but the camera zooms in on a dazed-looking boy. Peacekeepers begin to march him to the stage.

"What's going on?" he inquires, clearly confused.

"Please don't take my Buzz! He won't last a day!" a woman who must be his mother weeps. "Not my Buzz!"

For once, I am glad that the recording is over. The audience is also considerably quieter. "These tributes will clearly be missed! We wish them the best," I state simply. Thousands of voices join mine, agreeing with me in a melodious blend.

"But let's move right along to the Transportation District, where Engine Franklin and Road Nelson reside!" More moans come from the audience, but I smile just as brightly.

This Reaping goes by fairly quickly. The tributes walk up to the stage, shocked, but almost... determined. They shake hands gently, each looking into each others' eyes, as if saying, "We'll be okay." The camera focuses on their clasped hands, and then turns the screen black.

"Well, these tributes definitely have some fight in them! Maybe we'll see an alliance forming, if we're lucky," I suggest, raising my eyebrows. My comment is met by more screams of joy, filling my eardrums.

"But maybe we should chop-chop and get right to District Seven!" I declare, actually quite pleased with my joke. "Fell Marshall and Sap Martin are from the Lumber District!"

The screen is filled up with a hand searching through a bowl, sifting the papers carefully. The painted green nails squeeze the paper and unfold them. The camera moves to focus on the green lips forming a name. "Sap Martin!" A few cries punctuate the air, but the small girl walks briskly, not bothering to hide the tears glistening on her cheeks.

She sniffles and wipes at her nose while the green nails go back in for more. "Fell Marshall!" A strong-looking boy takes the stage, brushing his brown hair to cover most of his face. Not looking at anything in particular, Fell grasps the smaller hand and gives it a firm shake, and the clip ends.

"Well, all I have to say is: that escort had a good choice in color!" I gesture towards my own green hair, earning more laughs. "But let's focus on Fray Jennings and Thread Simon from Eight, known for its textiles!"

Right away, Thread's face fills the screen, her eyes trembling with tears. Her hands are balled at her side, twitching ever so slightly. As soon as she reaches the stage, Thread falls apart. Tears stain her rosy face, dripping off of her face. Not bothering to wipe her eyes, Thread waits patiently for the next name to be called.

"Fray Jennings!" A kind-looking boy comes up, eyes filled with remorse. He reaches his hand out towards Thread. As they shake hands, a fresh onslaught of tears begins, with Thread hiccupping in the background.

Pulling out my handkerchief, I gaze out at the audience. "I do wish I could wipe her tears," I sigh, earning many sympathetic looks. "And now, Husk Rockwell and Grain Kingsley from Nine!"

Another relatively uneventful Reaping rolls by. I have nothing to comment on, so I simply smile and move on. "From District Ten, we have Bull Oakley and Shear Casper joining us!" The applause dies down as soon as the clip starts.

"Shear Casper!" As soon as her name is called, the girl starts screaming unintelligibly. "Let me go, you monsters!" Shear shrieks at the Peacekeepers carrying her up to the stage. The escort frowns slightly at her, and then pulls out another slip. "Bull Oakley!"

A huge, lumbering boy takes the stage, walking slowly and purposefully. His small eyes squint at Shear, and he crushes her small, bony hand in his large, beefy one.

Shear immediately kicks at him. "Don't touch me!" The video ends right there.

"Well, she's certainly got a temper!" I say. The audience agrees with me as I introduce the tributes from District Eleven.

The Reaping starts, and the name called is Poppy Hatton. To the surprise of everyone, a young, slender girl darts onto the stage.

"I'm Orchard Bentley, and I volunteer!"

"Orchard, no! What are you doing?" someone yells, the pain evident in their voice. Orchard simply smiles and waits. Plow Adams joins her on stage, and they shake hands.

"Well, that certainly was interesting. It's not everyday we see a volunteer from those outer districts," I point out. "And last, but certainly not least, Dust Zakowski and Meadow Welsley from Twelve!"

"Meadow Welsley!" the escort declares. A small, scared girl walks slowly to the stage. She trembles, but seems too shocked to cry.

"Dust Zakowski!" Another small, scared-looking tribute comes up. Their tiny, bony hands clasp each others, and then they let go.

"Well, everyone! That's this year's episode of the Capitol Recap! Make sure to stay tuned for interviews, the Games, and the Recap for next year! Happy Hunger Games, and may the odds be ever in your favor!" The applause is the only thing I hear as I walk off of the stage.


And... we're done with the Capitol Recap! I hope you guys enjoyed that chapter, because it was quite long, and I literally stayed up till morning working on it.

I don't have much to say, except

VOTE ON THE POLL!

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Do it...

I love you all so please review. I've been working very hard on frequent updates, but haven't been receiving many reviews. :(

~LT

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