The launch is here. So it begins. First, a brief word from our Head Gamemaker.


Savanna Heron, 34

Capitol Civilian and Head Gamemaker


The tokens are done being tested: scanned for chemicals and hidden weapons. Most were okay, we had a few glitches. The District 1 Male's sword pendant could actually be drawn, and had been dipped in strychnine. We removed the poison, soldered the tiny sword into it's sheath, and are going to let him take back his token. It'll be fun to see him discover what happened.

The District 7 boy, the murderer, took a small bottle on a chain. That in and of itself was suspicious, so I wasn't surprised to learn that it contained juice from poison hemlock. We cleaned and disinfected the vial, and are giving it back to him.

The girl from District 8's ribbon was contaminated with trace amounts of chloroform. It's mostly dry and evaporated though, so we're not going to worry about it. The amount is so small anyway, that even at full strength it's unlikely that she would have been able to attack another tribute with it. All in all, we've got a pretty devious batch of tributes this year. It should be fun.

The arena is prepped and ready, and I push a button that sends a message ordering the tribute hovercraft dispatched.


Ricotta Erripe, 16

District 10 Female


I twist my leather bracelet around and around on my wrist, then bring it to my nose and inhale the reassuring barn-y, sheep-y smell of the farm. I purse my lips, trying not to cry. The hovercraft is dark, but the careers would still see my weakness. I don't want to draw any sort of attention to myself with the games so near.

A woman in a crisp white Gamemakers uniform moves down the center of the hovercraft. She asks me to hold out my wrist, and I comply. The boy next to me was frightened, and the woman explained that she was only injecting his tracker, so I don't flinch away when she produces a giant needle and holds it above the crook in my elbow.

All the same, I am not prepared for the moment of terrible aching pain that fills my arm. The idea that the Capitol can follow me wherever I go now is disconcerting, as is the idea of having some tiny robot inside my arm.

The Games.

They are so very close.

The bloodbath.

Will I have to kill?

In a way, the whole experience is very exciting. I've helped my father slaughter animals on the farm before. I'm used to blood, and I know how to kill so that the victim will hardly feel a thing. With a sharp knife, it's fairly easy to sever both the large blood vessels in the neck, causing the animal to lose consciousness instantly. The other tributes aren't animals, but how different could it be, really?

Whatever I set my mind to I can accomplish. With determination, I can win these Games. I swallow hard and try not to think to much about it.

Which, of course, is impossible.

But I will survive.


Phoenix Hemlock, 18

District 7 Male


Quivering.

With excitement.

Last night after the interviews Atalanta and Mercury, the leaders of the career pack, asked me to join. I'd been hoping for a long while to get an alliance I could poison one by one. If I were with the careers, we could hunt the others while I slowly decimated the pack from within. With a little luck and skill, they'll never know what hit them.

After years of honing my killer instincts, I have no qualms over what is to come. Even the careers have never truly put their skills to use. Perhaps my parents would not approve of my actions, but I do not care. If they didn't approve, then they shouldn't have died.

The Gamemakers will never let me win. I know that. I have tried to avoid thinking about it.

They wanted me to volunteer because I was a criminal. By all accounts a psychopath, and I would make the Games more interesting. Perhaps it's true, but I don't care. I can't care. My entire life has been about survival and I will not change that now. Emmett McLean, my foolish panicking district partner will die. The careers will all die. The other tributes will die.

Perhaps I cannot beat the Gamemakers, but I'm darn well going to give it my best shot.

I have outsmarted Capitol minions before and I can and will do it again. Imagining the comfortable feeling of an axe haft between my hands, I smile. This is my element.

I will survive.


Liam Cox, 14

District 12 Male


I know I can beat this game.

The hovercraft windows black out, and I know we are nearing the arena. The engines begin to slow and my stomach drops as our altitude lowers.

Fear has not taken me, just as no other emotion has ever controlled me in my life. I look around the hovercraft to the wide-eyed face of the District 5 girl, hear the sobs of Cotton from Eight, the determination in the eyes of the deaf girl from Nine. I have a power that none of them have, and I will use my indifference as a strength.

All the same, I wonder what it would be like to get so upset - or so happy. Have I missed an integral part of my life?

People have called me many things. Stony-faced. Rude. Enigmatic. Curious.

Some of these things are positive, some negative. The girls seemed to like me, but perhaps that was just because I pretended to like them. For the first time I feel manipulative and cruel. I wonder if Mabel, my latest beau, misses me. She was my sweetshop sweetheart. Used to share the candy her father made with me. Perhaps I only said I loved her so that she would love me.

Was it a lie? I wanted her to love me.

I push the thoughts out of my head. Right now, my most pressing need is to make a plan. Strategize. I have already decided against Haymitch's wishes that I will go into the bloodbath. Haymitch is just a broken down drunk anyway. Besides, I'd rather die quickly to a career than starve to death from lack of supplies, which is currently my alternative.

I will survive.


Cristina Booker, 18

District 9 Female


The hovercraft lands and Tabatha drags me off to prepare me for launch. As usual she makes no attempt to communicate with me, but I do not mind. Right now, talking would only make me more nervous.

I have my strategy prepared and ready. Depending on whether the arena environment appears to be rich in things I can use, I will take things only from the edge of the cornucopia or not at all. I will get in and out fast, and not stay to see what happens. Then I will run until I find an elevated or open place that I can see around me from. That way, I'll be able to see someone coming rather than hear them.

It's a frightening prospect, being hunted but those I cannot hear, but I know that I can do this. I will fight hard, and prove that whatever else I may be I am no quitter.

We rode in the hovercraft in only robes, with our underclothing underneath, and now Tabatha begins to untie my robe as we reach the room where I will launch from. I push her hands away, and by myself pull on the clothing I will be wearing into the arena. The clothes are encouraging, giving me clues as to what sort of environment I may face.

First is a dark grey turtleneck and thick green socks. Dark brown cargo pants and and a forest green rain poncho, my district number painted on the back, tell me that the arena will most likely be natural. Wet, probably somewhat cold. The poncho is lined with fleece, and I can already think of a million original ways to use it.

Finally there are tall brown leather boots, with hard toes and soft uppers, and springy soles that grip well. They come almost so my knees, and my pants tuck neatly into the tops. There is also a black webbed belt and I buckle it firmly around my waist.

Tabatha gestures to a table that holds a bowl of broth and a glass of milk, and I eat even though I am not particularly hungry. I know that I can keep it down, and also that food may be scarce. Every bit of nourishment and knowledge I can get before I enter the arena will help.

A vibration, along with the frantic gestures of Tabatha tell me that it has been announced that the tributes must enter the launch tubes. Setting down my bowl and spoon, I step inside the tube and hike up my poncho, holding it securely in my left hand. This way I will not get tangled up when it is time to run. Leaning slightly forward, careful to keep my balance, I raise my head and take a deep breath as the tube lifts me into the arena...

I will survive.


Emmett McLean, 16

District 7 Female


A slight wind ruffles my hair, carrying mist. It is foggy, and takes my eyes a moment to get my bearings. My legs shake uncontrollably, and I have to fight to keep from stumbling off my platform.

Looking down between my feet, I see muddy water and plants, just as the scent of rotting weeds hits my nose. Looking around again, my mouth open, I see that we tributes are in a circle around the cornucopia, in the middle of a large oval pond, or small lake. Thick undergrowth lines the bank, and cattails and weeds choke the shallower parts. Tall trees, mostly evergreens but with a few deciduous ones like alders mixed in stretch as far as the eye can see. The sky is gray and overcast, and the air, while not cold, carries a chill.

I can't swim!

The thought strikes me with panic. I will be trapped on my pedestal, unable to escape! Phoenix will come and kill me...

I look and see that he is about a quarter of the circle away from me. His eyes are trained on the cornucopia.

10...9...8...

In my hurry to survey the arena, I missed most of the countdown. The Games have nearly begun. Should I run for the cornucopia? For the woods? Grab a backpack and flee?

As I hesitate, Phoenix turns his eyes on me and appears to start forward.

Startled, and already off balance from fear, I jerk away from his motion. For a long moment I teeter on the edge of my pedestal and my heart leaps into my mouth, before I topple over the edge and icy water rushes into my nose and mouth, closing over my head...


Alliances:

Les Adorables - Capri, Cotton, Zita - Pixie?

Determination - Leon, Alabaster

Have Courage & Be Kind - Byron, Hunter

Careers - Atalanta, Caspar, Eleanor, Mercury, Cyma, Enzo, Phoenix

Who will die in the bloodbath?

Who will survive?

What would your strategy be?

I'm going to take my time making the bloodbath actually work, so you guys get to suffer until most likely Monday or Tuesday. It'll be great though, I promise! I'm excited but kind of terrified...next chapter I'll be killing tributes...