Ah, another prologue. Huge thanks to everyone who submitted tributes between now and the last chapter. We still need more tributes though, so keep submitting.

The Victor Memoirs

3-Mikaela Latour: Victor of the 92nd Hunger Games

Possibly my strongest memory from the Games was the Capitol food. I'd heard tale from my fellow academy trainees that it was the greatest food on the face of the Earth. It didn't compare to my mother's gumbo.

Being from District 4, I've had plenty of experience with fishing, but my family's primary trade was catching shellfish. That included shrimp, oysters, and clams.

Oftentimes I spent my days fishing with my father, building and checking the shellfish traps. Then, in the evening, I made dinner with my mother. She showed me all the various techniques of seasoning and preparing food properly. I fell in love with the culinary arts.

I was certain that, after the Games, I would open my own restaurant with my mother, being supplied by my father's fishing. There was only one problem standing in between me and my dreams: The Hunger Games.

My family certainly wasn't poor, but neither were we affluent. I needed more funds to start my restaurant, but there was more to it than that.

At a young age, I was fascinated by the Games. There was something about them that I couldn't put my finger on. I didn't know of another event that required such a combination of strategy, athleticism, fortitude, and wisdom. If you didn't employ each of those four pillars correctly, then you had no chance.

I convinced my parents to allow me to train for the Games at the academy. For a time, I was unable to assist my father with the fishing, but I still managed to work with my mother in the kitchen.

Those days were the happiest of my life. During the day, I was becoming a master swordsman, and every night, I was becoming a master chef. I was the chosen female volunteer. My dreams never seemed more within reach.

The instant I stepped off the train and into the Capitol, I lived up the attention. This was the first time in my life that I was really paid attention to for my appearance. People expected me to be strong and beautiful. Growing up, I hadn't had either of those traits in spades.

I found my fellow careers easy to get along with, particularly Vicente, the male tribute from District 1. He was bright and intelligent, an absolute master of the sword, plus he was hot.

We hit it off very quickly, spending most of our time practicing swordsmanship apart from our fellow careers. It was obvious he liked me and I liked him, so between ourselves, we created a separate pact to betray the other careers and fight until the end together.

Vicente and I didn't really think too far into the future. If we had, we might've realized that pursuing a deeper relationship was unwise. But, we were young and stupid, totally blinded by our feelings for one another.

We betrayed the alliance on the second day of the Games. At the time, there were sixteen tributes alive. Vicente killed the girl from two, who remained at the cornucopia with us. Then, we took everything and ran.

For thirteen glorious days, we remained together. We defeated tributes, earning victory after victory together.

I learned more about Vicente, about his life at home. It wasn't the greatest. His father was an abusive alcoholic and his mother disappeared under dubious circumstances. He learned about my life too, my love for cooking and fishing.

By the sixteenth day, reality set in. We both realized that only one of us could win the Games, and, with five tributes left, we had to decide what truly mattered most.

I spoke to Vicente about this one night.

"Never, in all my life have I felt so loved," Vicente replied. "I wouldn't give this up for the world."

I told him that I wouldn't either.

The feast took place on the seventeenth day, and, an all-out brawl ensued. Vicente and I took on the District 2 boy, the year's deadliest tribute; the District 3 boy, an absolute genius; and the District 12 girl, who was just too stubborn to die.

The boy from three was the most dangerous. He had rigged up some sort of trebuchet to launch flaming debris on us from a nearby hill. Vicente and I, being the only two working together, split up. He took on the two boy and the twelve girl alone, while I went to take out the three boy.

In the end, we won. Vicente made it out with minor burns, while I was barely scratched. That left two survivors, but only one could win.

We rested that night and woke to our eighteenth day in the arena. There was now a decision to make. Vicente wanted me to survive, while I wanted him to survive.

After a few hours of intense debate, the Capitol provided us with the solution. Or, more accurately, they forced us into an untenable position.

We were given two letters and two white pills. The first letter contained the instructions to a game. We were to take one pill each. One was poison, the other was safe.

Vicente said he wouldn't take the pill, at least until he opened the second letter.

Inside it, the Capitol described, in vivid detail, what would happen if we didn't obey. One of us would live, as there had to be a victor, but we would each face unimaginable pain and we would watch the other endure it. If either of us refused the pill, the other would be killed in the most horrible way possible.

It was evil and cruel. What could make people so heartless? How could they become so dark that they swallowed out the sun?

In that moment, I finally realized what the Capitol was: a cesspit that turned reasonable, kind human beings into blackhearted monsters.

Vicente and I complied that evening. The Capitol supplied us with the nicest dinner I've ever had, seemingly out of spite. Somehow, they got my mother to make us gumbo and brought District 1 wine that Vicente loved.

I cried the whole meal, unable to do more than pick at my food. We passed the wine bottle back and forth, trying to get drunk enough to take the pills.

Once drunk enough, we said we loved each other, then played the game.

…I won.

To this day, I haven't been able to eat a bite of mom's gumbo or drink any wine. I haven't eaten enough since then. I lost weight and lost my zest for life. I still can't sleep. There's nothing I love anymore. Vicente took all the love I had to his grave.

Now, I train kids at the career academy. I can't stand kids going in there unprepared. It makes me want to puke. I'm a tough taskmaster, but they need the strength, because the Capitol damn sure won't make their lives easy.

In all honesty, I'm not sure why I'm writing this. I suppose that, on some level, I'm still processing what happened in the arena.

At this point, I was planning to insert some warning about not falling in love with a fellow tribute, but there wouldn't be much point in that. The ninety-second Games should've been warning enough not to fall in love, but it's happened since then, only once, but it still happened.

Love does what it wants. It has the power to grant happiness and take it away all in the blink of an eye. I couldn't stop two tributes from falling in love no matter how hard I tried. That doesn't make it any less foolish though.

Love is foolish and blind, but still in the late moments of the night, I think of Vicente, his tanned skin and toned body, his dark wavy hair, those piercing blue eyes.

I want nothing more than to see the Capitol suffer for the pain and suffering they have inflicted upon the thousands of kids to enter the arena. I want to watch the cesspit burn until there's nothing left.

Another Memoirs chapter. This one was seriously deep. I started feeling sad just writing it, but that's the Games for you.

Anyway, we're at 13 tributes, so over halfway there! Let's get this done guys!

On another note, I think this might be the last prologue. There will be interludes describing nontribute characters and more Victor Memoirs chapters. Next chapter will begin the reapings, though they won't be in order.

Here's the tribute submission form.

Name:
Age:
Gender:
Sexuality:
District:

Face Claim:
Appearance (Any edits to the face claim?):
Personality:
MBTI:
History:
Strengths (No more than 4):
Weaknesses (No less than 3):
Weapon of choice:
Other weapons:
Family (Include significant others):
Friends:
Special Skills (These are things that they do well that might make them stand out from the other tributes):
Alliances?:
Open to Romance in Games?:
Volunteer/Chosen?:
Reaction to reaping:
Token:
Chariot Outfit (I will probably use these since I'm shit at outfits):
Interview Outfit:
Interview Angle (i.e. aloof, flirty, dangerous, mysterious, etc.) :
Reaping Outfit:
Training room strategy:
What skill did they show to gamemakers?:
Score estimate(10-8 for careers. 7-8 for strong outer districts. 4-6 for average outer districts. 4 for rare cases.):
Interview Quote:
Victor material?:
Creative Liberties? (Is it okay if I change some things about your tribute to fit him or her into the story better? Things like district, age, weapons. Nothing major like personality.):
Other (Anything else you want to add?):

Don't forget that you can see the list of tributes so far on my profile page if you're interested in submitting.

Thanks for reading.