Selene Taevas, 18.
District 3 Female.
2:38 PM, Day 4.

Selene tipped her head up, looking at the purple sky overhead. There were a few scattered clouds, fluffy and white a large difference from the thick layer of fog that had resided over the area for the past two days. In all honesty, she was quite glad it was gone, it gave their camp a very eerie feeling as if a person could pop out and surprise them at any moment. It wasn't exactly an enjoyable experience, and she was more than glad it was over.

"Hey, if you don't mind, could you pass me that wrench over there?" Lynus said, squinting up at her from below her. He was seated on the ground, back against the wall with his legs crossed in front of him, fiddling with some parts that he'd been sent just a day or two before. It had been a few hours since the announcement had been given, that there was a feast coming up, and that they had to go. Under normal circumstances, she wouldn't have gone, and wouldn't have let Lynus go either, but it was stated that it was mandatory. Selene didn't know exactly what this meant, would they just kill anyone who didn't go? Regardless, she knew they were in danger.

"Yeah, here," Selene responded, picking up the wrench Lynus was indicating to. He'd been sent a box will all sorts of parts, including explosives and over the past few days he'd been working on making some sort of bot out of them, he explained it was a hobby from back home. They didn't exactly have a use for it either, up until this point, it was more just a project to kill time until something happened, but when the feast had been announced earlier in the day, they'd come to a revelation.

"Are you sure you can make this work?" Selene asked, slipping off her perch, an old crate of some sort. It seemed stable enough, and she wasn't too worried if it did give out beneath her, she'd taken worse falls then a meter or two.

"Yeah, I think so. It definitely won't be the prettiest bot I've ever made, but it'll do well enough." Lynus replied, straightening up, wiping his forehead with the sleeve of his jacket as he did so. It was true, they were on a definite time crunch, and they had no way of testing whether the contraption worked or not, since they had very limited explosions. It wasn't exactly ideal, but it was their chance to take out as much of their competition as possible. Selene certainly didn't want to hurt anybody, but it was inevitable, and if they could take out a large portion of the competition without risking themselves quite so much, it was surely worth it.

"Okay, if you say so, I trust you," Selene said with a slight smile, nodding as she walked to the door of the small shack they were working out of. Lynus had declared it his unofficial workshop, which Selene had no problem with since it wasn't her area of expertise. Sure, she could set up a circus rig in record time, no problem, but when it came to more technical things she left it to her District partner. It was sort of ironic that she came from a District whose entire exporting business was based on technology, and she was completely and utterly useless with any and all forms of it, but she didn't mind.

"Whatcha doin'?" Lynus asked as he replaced himself in front of his makeshift work station, hunching over in a less than comfortable looking position.

"Just stretching my legs, I might go patrol around for a bit," Selene replied, stretching her arms above her head, her shoulders and back popping loudly as she did.

"Oh, alright. Do you want me to come with you, or?" Lynus said as he continued to fiddle with wires or something of the sort.

"Nah, I'm all good, I can handle it on my own. Besides, you've got other things to be working on." Selene replied with a grin, gesturing to the scattered parts. The bot was beginning to take shape, it was less of a bot really and more of a straight-up bomb, wires sticking haphazardly out the sides, much of the metal outer plating still unattached.

"Alright, good luck. Be careful out there, if you're not back in an hour I'll come to look for you." Lynus replied, flashing her a thumbs up and a smile. Selene returned the gesture, as she picked up the small bag she'd packed with a few knives, as well as a water canteen. She slung it over her shoulder as she stepped out of the shack, wooden floorboards creaking to announce her exit. Her boots hit the dusty dirt path with a thud, each step kicking up a cloud of dirt.

The shack they'd chosen was on the edge of the convoluted tent city, not far from the tents they'd chosen to take up as their sleeping quarters. The girl from 3 walked deeper into the makeshift city, the precariously balanced wooden structures rising around her with each step, barely balancing, as if they could come crashing down at any moment. Selene turned onto what could be described as the main road of the city, despite the fact it was far narrower than any road she'd ever seen. It happened to be the easiest way to get from the side of the city they'd set up on, directly on the edge of the Arena, to the treeline leading into the middle of the Arena.

As she walked, the wind kicked up slightly, cool but not quite cold, causing her long dark hair to swirl around her face, like fall leaves in the wind. She cursed herself internally; she'd forgotten to bring a hair tie, or tie her hair up before she'd left, and Selene knew that she'd be annoyed about it the entire time she was out. But what could she do at this point? It wasn't like she could turn back.

The structures around her began to shrink once again, as she neared the opposite end of the city quickly enough. Every time the wind blew hair in her face she pushed it away, realizing just how grossly greasy it had become over the past 4 days, with no running water. It wasn't just her hair— her hands under her nails and face were covered in a thin layer of fine dust, and so were her clothes. No matter what she did or how hard she tried, Selene couldn't get it off.

She eventually turned off the main road, the barren dust wasteland between the treeline and the convoluted mass of structures, there was nobody in sight. They hadn't seen anyone since the bloodbath, it was just her, Lynus and the occasional faces in the sky.

And if everything went to plan, they'd be putting more faces in that sky tomorrow night.

Pedro Trujillo, 16.
District 4 Male.
11:31 PM.

Pedro tightened his grip around the cup in his hands, warmth seeping through the sides of the thermos through his gloves into his hands, tipping his face forwards towards the fire before him. The radiating heat barely cut through the biting wind. He looked up, glancing around at the circle of people surrounding him.

"So, let's go over the plan one more time, yeah?" Pedro asked notably startling Terce who was seated directly to his left. Across the fire, seated shoulders to shoulder with one another were Charlotte and Echo, and standing a little ways away was Creed, leaning up against the side of a nearby tree. It was a pitiful group since they were already missing two of the Careers, but Pedro was working with what he had at this point.

Pedro thought, no, knew the others were planning something, specifically Echo, Terce and Charlotte. He knew Creed would be in on it too if it weren't for him keeping her on a short leash. Out of everyone in the Career pack, she was his largest competitor, the biggest threat to him directly. He could probably take any combination of the other three in a fight, but Creed he was very doubtful he could beat in a one on one fight; Pedro knew after what he'd done to Dyan, he had a target on his back.

However, Miss Creed Odinshoot owed him her life, and he didn't know if she would honour that if push came to shove, but he would sure as hell make her. With her in his corner, as much as he could get her into his corner, the other Careers wouldn't try anything against him. It was a risky gamble, but he just needed to bide time until Creed outlived her uselessness, as well as the others, and he suspected that their uselessness would run out after the Feast.

The clock was ticking, and either the others took him out, or he let them die. And Pedro wasn't planning on going down anytime soon.

"We're gonna go to the Feast, and try and take as many of the supplies as we can grab." Terce piped up, the most words he'd heard spoken by him the past few days. He'd gone from very boisterous, loud and cocky, to subdued, quiet as if he was trying to fly under the radar. It was a shame he'd be dead in the next 24 hours.

"Correct, and what else?" Pedro continued, looking around the clearing for the next person to speak up.

"And we take out as many other tributes as we can." Echo continued the plan they'd gone over once, twice, three times that day already. He wanted to be sure that they all knew what they were doing, that everything had gone to plan. Yes, one of his plans had already gone correctly, but that didn't mean it would happen again. He couldn't afford to be cocky or slip up since it could mean death, his death.

"Correct, correct, and isn't there one more thing we're forgetting?"

"Don't die," Creed said quietly, walking over and throwing another piece of wood onto the fire robotically, unceremoniously. She'd taken on a very robotic, autopilot-like demeanour as if doing everything needed, with the smallest amount of thought. Pedro would feel bad for her if he cared about her.

"Exactly, you've got it. Now, it's getting late, everyone should head to bed since we're gonna have an early morning tomorrow." Pedro said, waving his hands dismissively. Everyone began standing and heading back to their respective tents. Creed went to go back to her sleeping quarters, but before she could get further than a step or two away, he stuck out a hand, stopping Creed in her tracks.

"Oh no, I want to talk to you," Pedro said with a warm smile, gesturing for Creed to sit across from him.

"Is it urgent, or can it wait until tomorrow?" Creed replied, stopping in her tracks, not sitting rather staring down at Pedro with a completely blank, neutral expression. It was one he recognized well, the sort of expression that his fellow trainees made, the trainees that were mindless Career drones, the sort of people who just mindlessly cut through whatever was placed in front of them with no thoughts of their own, simply just brainwashed soldiers.

"No, this can't exactly wait, and I'd rather speak to you in private rather than with the others around. Now, please take a seat." Pedro insisted, Creed giving way and sitting on the next log over to his right, keeping her eyes locked on the fire.

"So what do you want?" Creed asked, her voice low. Pedro craned his neck to make sure the others were out of earshot, and when he was sure they were far enough away, he returned his focus to her.

"I just wanted to make sure we're on the same page here," Pedro said, his voice low and quiet, just to make sure nobody could hear him.

"Same page?" Creed asked as an ember popped out of the fire, she crushed it beneath her boot like a bug.

"Yeah, didn't you hear me?" Pedro replied sarcastically with a slight grin, amused by her confusion.

"I'd rather not be hearing you right now, but here I am, so get to the damn point." Creed snapped, her voice was gravelly and tired as she placed her head in her gloved hands.

"Okay, fine. Don't try and pull anything tomorrow, I know you're thinking about it, but it won't work." Pedro said, looking at Creed out of the corner of his eye. She notably stiffened, tightening her grip on the staff between her hands, only confirming his suspicions.

"What are you talking about?" Creed replied softly.

"They're planning to take you down, the rest of the group see you as a threat, and they're going to try to kill you tomorrow."

"Why should I trust you?"

"Well, you shouldn't, I sure as hell wouldn't trust me either, but I found this note earlier, on the ground, here, take a look," Pedro said, shoving his hand into his pocket, pulling the folded scrap of paper out and holding it out to Creed. She took it, carefully unfolding it, and leaning forward to read it in the dim light of the fire. It was a real note, yes, but one he'd instead forged after he'd found an actual note about Echo, Terce and Charlotte plotting to kill him.

The boy from 4 watched as Creeds eyes scanned the crumpled bit of paper, before she crumpled it into a ball, tossing it into the fire before her.

"I'll work with you, on one condition," Creed growled- the only time he'd ever heard her speak like that before was the day prior when she was hunting down Ozzie through their camp. Pedro certainly couldn't lie, he was scared of the District 2 girl and what she was capable of, but he could never let her, or anyone else know that.

"What's that?" Pedro replied with a grin, folding his hands behind his head casually.

"That I get your head on a stake once this is all over," Creed said, her voice gravely and low.

"I can't guarantee that," Pedro chuckled, as Creed stood, quickly, picking up her staff as she stared down at Pedro. A smug grin tugged at his lips as he stared into the girl standing above him's eyes, holding out a hand for her to shake. Creed ignored his gesture, turning and stalking away towards the sleeping quarters.

"Come talk to me before we leave tomorrow, at the gate," Pedro called at her departing back. He'd set everything up perfectly, or as perfectly as he could, and now it was time to strike. Before long, all major threats to him would be but faces flashing across the sky before they left his memory for the rest of his life.

Cerdiwen Cadwallder, 17.
District 8 Female.
11:47 AM, Day 5.

Cerdiwen ducked behind a large spar of rock, passing her machete from her right to her left hand, wiping the sweat off her dominant hand as she peeked around the edge of the rock to see the Cornucopia. She'd gotten lucky and scored some supplies from the already looted Cornucopia, however, they'd quickly run out, and she was down to her last few food items. On top of that, she was completely out of water and had been for almost two days.

To say the least, she wasn't in the best of situations, however, the upcoming Feast could change that. By her estimation, it would be beginning soon, as the announcer had stated it would be 24 hours from the midday prior. The minutes were surely ticking down at this point, and there was no sign of activity at the Cornucopia, other than the table, piled with backpacks carefully laid out. Each one had a number, clearly labelled on it, marking which bag was for who. They were all smaller bags, surely only holding a few days supplies within them, but a few days of supplies made all the difference in the Arena- made all the difference between life and death.

She'd had an interesting few days on her own, after scrounging up what supplies were left from the Cornucopia, she'd taken off into the foothills of the mountains, finding a small cave to stay in, it appeared to be lived in prior since there were remnants of a small fire outside of it, but whoever was there before she was long gone by that point.

It was a comfortable existence for a day or two until she started running low on supplies. She'd gone back to try and see if there was anything left again, but the Careers or someone else had come through and picked it clean. She'd been waiting ever since, waiting to die she supposed since there was no running water in the Arena, at least that she could find in the mountains. Cerdiwen had considered venturing out past the rocky mountain range, but she hadn't been able to work up the courage to do so yet. She'd been holding out hope for something like this, a Feast. It wasn't something that happened every year, but it happened enough that she could possibly be saved by one.

When the announcement came ringing over the Arena, she'd been elated, before realizing that everyone would be going, not just her. Either she came, and tried to get the supplies and risked being killed, or she didn't and risked whatever the Gamemakers were going to do to them. That, or she starved to death, or died from dehydration. Any way it was spun, her life was in danger, but Cerdiwen had decided she wasn't giving up that easy, she'd be getting her supplies or she'd die trying.

The girl from 8 watched as a person emerged from the foothills of the mountain, having apparently been hiding similarly to what she was doing. She couldn't exactly make out who it was but she was pretty sure it was a boy, who appeared to have a bag slung over a shoulder, his other hand gripping a machete much like the one she had. The blatant confidence surprised her, the fact the boy was walking up to the table seemingly without a care in the world as if there weren't likely all sorts of other tributes waiting to kill him at any given moment hidden nearby. The boy neared the table, but he froze in his tracks.

Cerdiwen couldn't see exactly what was stopping him, however, she thought she knew what, or who it might be. She shifted her vantage point slightly, to get a better look at what was happening and it just confirmed her suspicions. Standing opposite the boy was a large group of people, all brandishing various weapons. The only alliance left in the Arena that could possibly be so big were the Careers. The boy, still frozen, fumbled with his bag. Cerdiwen didn't understand why he wasn't running, he might have a chance if he just ran but before she could do anything, think anything else, a startling booming noise rang out from the clearing, nearly knocking her off balance, whether it be from the shockwave or just plain shock.

She tipped her head forward, trying to decipher the scene before her, but all she could see was smoke and all she could smell was sulfur. Ceridwen's hand searched for her weapon, she'd dropped it at some point and as she did so debris came raining down around her, chunks of dirt and what she quickly realized to be flesh raining down around her.

As she rightened herself, her hand finding the hilt of her machete, a crackling noise rang over the arena, before a voice spoke up.

"Oh my, starting off with a bang are we? Well, let's let the feast begin everyone! May the odds be ever in your favour!"