Part 3 of the reapings. Should be fun!

Eydis Agnarsson District 4: 17F

Day Before The Reaping

The best word to describe the academy for the last week was tense. Things were energized and everyone was practically shaking with energy, though there were the odd older trainees who weren't chosen that were bitter and resentful.

Eydis was most certainly not one of those people. More than anything, she was nervous. She wanted to represent her district well and her family, but there was a great deal of pressure on her shoulders. All her life led up to this upcoming week. What if she fell flat? What if she didn't meet expectations?

She swung her spear in a wide arc through the air. Her practice currently wasn't with another trainee or even against a dummy. Many of the trainees found practicing forms in the air ridiculous and pointless, but Eydis knew much better.

Thanks to her smaller frame, only weighing around one-hundred-ten pounds and standing at five foot four inches, Eydis had to find other ways to fight efficiently. Unlike other careers in the past, Eydis wouldn't be able to manhandle other tributes. She would be the smallest career, and likely would be smaller than most of the outer district tributes.

Eydis's style of combat was more geared towards speed and balance, utilizing various jumps and complex footwork to confuse and disgruntle opponents. Along with her acrobatic movements, the length and leverage of the spear greatly aided Eydis in combat against larger opponents.

Eydis performed a low sweeping slash while simultaneously jumping and kicking her legs through the air. She landed perfectly on balance and pivoted, performing a straight thrust at her neckline. Eydis drew her spear back, holding it in both hands as she stopped her form briefly. She spun the spear in her hands idly while her attention turned inward once again.

She just couldn't help but think of what people would think if she failed. What would be considered failure anyway? If she didn't make it to the top ten would that be failure? Did it even matter if she failed?

That was the problem, Eydis couldn't help but feel insecure of her own achievements. Here she was, the nominated tribute for District 4, and she still didn't think she was enough. Eydis still spent her energy worrying about failure.

She sighed, trying to clear her mind. Eydis had a somewhat turbulent personality. The words and thoughts of others affected her greatly, and Eydis was aware of the problems that caused. It was incredibly difficult to her thinking, however.

Eydis forced herself to get out of her own head and focus her attention on the world around her. The sand beneath her feet was fine, composed of small grains, not large pieces. It made it easier to train on and kept the trainees from cutting their faces when they fell on the sand. Gravel would not be so forgiving.

Around her were the other trainees. Most sparred or practiced against dummies, but others stood off to the side watching resting. Among those people was Murchad McNamara, the chosen male tribute. He was a year older than her and slightly undersized for a guy. Nonetheless, he was hot.

Eydis shook her head. Why did she think that? He was just her district partner, someone to help her through the games.

"Hey!" A voice called to her from the opposite side of the room.

Eydis turned her head to see Isla, her friend of many years. The girl was taller than Eydis, and heavier built with thick quads. Her dark hair lay in many curls hanging down her back.

Isla was the eager sort, a highly excitable girl, still immature in many ways, even though she was sixteen. Eydis considered herself more aware of the ways of the world than most people her age. Even Murchad, who was eighteen, had an unquenchable zest for life. That was clear, even though Eydis wasn't terribly familiar with Murchad.

"You want to work some new techniques before Reaping Day?" Isla asked as she jogged up to Eydis's side. "This is our last chance."

For the last week, ever since it was announced that Eydis was the chosen volunteer, Isla had done her best to help the older girl with her training. Though Eydis already knew many of the techniques Isla showed her, she found it helpful to go over them again to be sure she learned them properly. Secondly, she enjoyed spending time with Isla. She helped balance out Eydis's occasionally pessimistic nature.

"Sure," Eydis replied with a small smile. "Let's do it."

Isla happily led Eydis toward a clearer spot in the sand where they could maneuver more easily.

"So," Isla said. "I was thinking that you'd run into quite a few swordsmen, since it's the most common weapon for careers to use, that you should go over some counter techniques. Spear has an advantage over sword in the length, but if a sword gets inside your guard, you're screwed."

Eydis nodded along. Isla was basically correct. It was a large reason why so many spearmen used knives as sidearms.

Isla closed the gap on Eydis and handed her a practice spear while holding a practice sword herself. She took up a position within the length of Eydis's practice spear.

"Normally, you'd go for your knife here, right?" Isla asked.

Eydis nodded.

"Well," Isla said. "You should try this instead. You have to put your spear down to draw your knife, and it would be better if you could hang onto your spear. You should try to get as close as you can to me. Keep me from swinging my sword."

Eydis hadn't been told expressly about using this method to defeat a swordsman, but the logic of it was sound.

She stepped forward towards Isla, raising her hands as she did to protect her face. Eydis shoved her shoulder up to Isla's arm, blocking her from attacking. She used her left hand to wrap around Isla's right arm, the one with the sword, and mimed kneeing her in the face from there. Then, she used her hands and body weight to shove Isla off.

"Nice!" Isla complimented. "I wasn't exactly sure what to do once you blocked the arm, but what you just did works great."

"Thanks," Eydis said shyly. She had trouble with compliments.

They spent the next hour or so going over the various schemes that Isla had developed for Eydis to attempt. Some worked and some didn't, but Eydis found that she was enjoying herself anyway.

Maybe the Games could be an opportunity for her to finally prove to herself and everyone else that she was good enough. The doubters could be proved wrong if Eydis just managed to put on a spectacular performance. Maybe she could do that much.

Matt Scotch District 11: 18M

Day Before the Reaping

This working thing was still something Matt had to get used to. Life was so much simpler before, but it was also less enjoyable and less meaningful.

Matt ascended the ladder in front of him to better reach the upper branches of the apple tree. His job was fairly simple, picking apples in a vineyard. The owners also grew grapes for wine, but it was the cider apples that Matt was picking today.

One day, he hoped to climb the management structure at the vineyard and become part of the team that worked on creating the drinks. His family would certainly be in a better place if he could do that.

"What's up Matt!" A man called from the next tree over. "Hot out today, isn't it?"

The man who called to Matt was Joseph Terry, a middle-aged man with a receding hairline. Matt considered him a friend, but not of many years. Matt met him here at the vineyard just when he started working a real job. That was only two years ago.

"It's real hot," Matt agreed. "But we're getting paid, so can't complain really."

"Ain't that the truth," Joseph said. "How's the wife by the way?"

Matt was amongst the minority in that he'd married incredibly young. Life in the Districts was tough. It forced you to grow up fast, and Matt and his wife were no exception. They'd married at sixteen and had their first child, a son, at seventeen. His name was Jonas, and he just turned one yesterday.

"She's doing well," Matt answered. "Taking care of Jonas is a full-time job until he's a bit older."

"I remember those days," Joseph said with a slightly jesting tone. "Glad my kids ain't waking me up in the middle of the night anymore."

Matt grumbled. That was the worst part about having a baby. You never knew what kind of night you were going to get, whether it would be a peaceful rest or a restless time of constantly changing diapers. Most of the time, you got the restless night, not the peaceful one.

"Quit rubbing it in," Matt complained.

Joseph laughed, while Matt smiled. He loved jokes and laughter, especially when he was the one making people laugh.

"Oh you'll have something else to worry about then," Joseph said. "First you'll have to teach him the same things over and over until he's about twelve, then he'll think he knows everything and he won't listen to a word you say. Then, he'll start trying to take girls home with him. It won't be until he's twenty that he realizes you're not a moron."

"It might not be that bad," Matt said hopefully.

Joseph let out a bark of laughter.

"Keep telling yourself that kid," Joseph said.

Matt chuckled to himself and shook his head, swiping apples up from the tree and tossing them into his basket. He kept them neat and clean, attempting not to bruise the apples as he picked them.

The job of picking apples was sweaty, but simultaneously relaxing. He supposed it relaxed his mind, but not his body.

He, Joseph, and various other workers went from tree to tree, removing only the freshest apples. It was simple and basic, but it paid the bills and hopefully could evolve into something much more profitable.

He idly wondered what was going on at home. Tessa was probably tickling Jonas or something. His chubby little son would be laughing his head off with that gargling sound that babies made. Then, she'd have to remove his diaper when he inevitably shit himself.

"Hey Matt!" Joseph called to him. "Can you pass me the trimmers?"

Matt assented, tossing the pair of hedge clippers across the small path in between the trees. Joseph caught them in one hand and promptly began trimming up the top of the apple tree.

Pruning was also entailed in their job, along with picking the apples. Each tree had to be carefully maintained, making sure that the trees didn't become overgrown. If the trees did grow out, then many of them would be choaked and eventually die.

They conversed lightly back and forth, all making jokes at each other's expense. It was a big reason why Matt actually enjoyed his job. These men he worked with were his friends and didn't take things too seriously. There was something about a group of people coming together to work towards a common goal that made it easier to get along. Probably because everyone's own personal opinions became of secondary importance when compared to the task at hand.

With all that was wrong in the world, Matt found himself feeling optimistic about the future. He had a stable job for the first time, and he had a loving family. Things could be much worse.

Murchad McNamara Distict 4: 18M

Day Before the Reaping

The bells above the door tinkled as Murchad entered the shop. Thanks to the economic status of his family, Murchad found he had to work a second job to pay for his tuition at the academy. That job was working as an apprentice cobbler in a grumpy old man's shoe shop. Though, that old man was really much more than just that.

He trudged tiredly to the back of the store where the equipment was stored. Murchad dropped his bag on the floor and sat in front of the machine where he left off his work yesterday.

Murchad was exhausted from the day's training, but he would have a blessed two days of break before going right back into the work when he was at the Capitol. For now, Murchad would do whatever he could to make money. There was no telling what could happen, and he would still need to work if he won the Games.

Murchad fired up the sewing machine and began the process of stitching together the pieces of leather that made up the shoes. The stitches had to be precise and accurate, ensuring that the construction of the shoe was even. If the stitches were out of place, then the shoe would fall apart and be of no use to anyone.

He moved the shoe around with a slow and smooth pace, allowing the sewing machine to consistently put the stitches into the shoe. With his attention devoted to the process of working on the shoe, Murchad finally gave himself a chance to relax, or at least somewhat relax. He was still working after all.

He heard the old man, Alexandros, enter the back room. Likely, he was searching for the sound of all the commotion coming from in here. Murchad was generally unobtrusive with his movements, sneaking in and out of rooms without others noticing.

"Ah Murchad," Alexandros greeted. "In a little late I see."

There was a hint of condescension in the old man's tone. He didn't like it when Murchad showed up late, but Murchad didn't hold that against him. Alexandros was his employer and expected tasks to be performed in a timely fashion.

"Sorry Alexandros," Murchad replied as he carefully turned the shoe under the needle. "I spent some extra time training today. I wanted to put in as much work as I possibly could before I go to the Capitol."

"There's a training center there," Alexandros commented. "You'll have plenty of time to train in the Capitol. The equipment is much better there as well."

"It's only three days," Murchad said. "Plus, there's all the other distractions, and I'm in an unfamiliar environment with unfamiliar people. It'll be harder to train in the Capitol, because its less about the training and more about the politics."

"You're concerned about meeting the other careers?" Alexandros questioned.

"Who wouldn't be?" Murchad asked. "The academies attracted a lot of real douchebags."

"I am aware," Alexandros said. "Believe me."

"You would be," Murchad commented. "I'm glad you'll be there you know."

Alexandros barked with laughter.

"Damn right you are," He said with a smirk.

Alexandros Minades was a weathered old man of Greek heritage. Once upon a time, he'd been a fisherman, but age and injuries forced his retirement from that job. His skin was tanned like leather and heavily wrinkled. His hair and beard were both long and pure white, as untamed as the sea. He was also the victor of the fifty-eighth Hunger Games.

"You are sure you want to do this?" Alexandros questioned. "You know what this could do to you?"

"I read the Victor Memoirs," Murchad said. "You told me to, remember?"

"Your mind is still made up then?" Alexandros asked with a hint of regret.

"It is," Murchad answered with finality.

"Then, I'm glad I'll be there to help you along Murchad," Alexandros said. "Thankfully you have a talented district partner by your side. I had to deal with a pompous, overconfident girl."

"You've told me," Murchad responded, but his thoughts were on his own district partner, not Alexandros's.

Eydis Agnarsson was talented to be sure. Alexandros had that much right. What he didn't mention was how much of an oddity she was. She was far smaller than the average career, but she was also far kinder and much less arrogant. Actually, from what Murchad had seen, Eydis could occasionally slip too far in the opposite direction towards meekness.

She was a good person though, and Murchad knew already that he didn't want to be the one to kill her. Really, he was looking forward to spending more time with her in the lead up to the Games.

"Well, you have much to look forward to and to dread," Alexandros said. "But for now, you need to finish your work. You haven't met your quota for this week."

Murchad grumbled. He was given a lighter workload than usual thanks to Reaping Day, which no one was allowed to work during. Yet, he'd kept himself plenty busy with last minute training.

Alexandros left without another word, humming quietly to himself. If Murchad was lucky, the quiet of his work would be livened by the sound of Alexandros's singing and guitar playing. The man was quite the talented musician to be sure.

As Murchad set aside the first completed shoe and picked up the second shoe in the pair, he did in fact hear Alexandros's music.

It was a favorite song of Murchad's. He played a simple chord structure, one longer and drawn out. The other was short, creating a staccato rhythm in a folk style. As far as Murchad was aware, Alexandros had written the song himself, but he didn't know.

The old man sung with a gentle, easy tone, fitting perfectly the sound of the chords with the guitar. His voice sounded twangy and bright, much like the sound of the chords he played.

An old man by the seashore at the end of days

Gazes the horizons with sea winds in his face

Tempest tossed island, seasons all the same

Anchorage unpainted and a ship without a name

Sea without a shore for the banished one unheard

He lightens the beacon, light at the end of world

Showing the way, lighting hope in their hearts

The ones on their travels homeward from afar

This is the long-forgotten light at the end of the world

The horizon crying the tears he left behind long ago

Murchad would miss the old Greek when he was in the arena.

Tessa Scotch District 11: 18F

Night Before the Reaping

Matt practically collapsed into bed the second he came home. After a hard day's work, he was obviously just ready to go to sleep. Tessa however, had no such luck. She was too wrapped up in her own dread to sleep.

Now, sitting on the small couch in their small living room inside their small house, Tessa cradled a cup of hot tea in her hands. She took a small sip, staring off at the blank wall without really seeing it.

She wasn't a worrier by nature, and neither was she particularly introspective, but tonight that part of her being that so rarely surfaced constructed everything about her. It was the upcoming Reapings that had her so greatly concerned.

It was said that a mother had special intuition when it came to her child, particularly if said child was in danger. For whatever reason, Tessa had that feeling right now. She and Matt were both still eighteen, and thus able to be reaped. Now more than ever, thanks to the taking of tesserae and their age, they were in danger of being reaped, Matt less so than her, but only somewhat.

She remembered meeting Matt for the first time. He had been a wild untamed man, nearly an animal in many respects, living alone in the woods, hunting and killing animals with just a knife. Each had been slightly shocked to see the other, but they got along surprisingly well.

At the time, Tessa had been looking for whatever love she could find. She lived with her crochety grandmother, the only family she had. Matt, for his part, had no family in his life and no love at all. Thanks to Tessa, he found love and a real life beyond meager survival in the forest.

Tessa took another sip from her steaming mug of tea, hoping desperately that nothing terrible would befall either of them tomorrow. She knew, that were she to be reaped, Matt would volunteer, heedless of his own life. But, if he were to do that, then it was still likely that neither of them would come home, and that Jonas would be left with his great grandmother and no one else.

Tessa didn't know how long she sat pensive, drinking from the teacup. It must have been a while, because Jonas started crying, breaking her from her thoughts.

Jonas normally woke up again somewhere around midnight and based on the position of the moon outside the window, it seemed that midnight had arrived.

She really needed to try to sleep, but sleep would have to wait until Jonas was taken care of. Tessa walked to the back room, opening the door quietly, not wanting to startle her son.

From the next room over, Matt emerged with bleary eyes, blinking rapidly to adjust to the state of waking. He stood in only his underwear with some serious bedhead.

"You're still awake?" He slurred, still exhausted.

"Couldn't sleep," Tessa replied softly as she entered her son's room.

"Now no one can," Matt quipped.

She rolled her eyes as she lifted Jonas from the crib and held him comfortingly, bouncing slightly to hopefully relax the poor kid. He just bawled his eyes out.

"Probably shit his pants," Matt said.

"Not around him," Tessa hissed. "I told you that."

"Sorry," Matt replied. "Just slipped out. I'll go get a new diaper and some toilet paper."

Tessa shook her head in mock admonishment. She continued bouncing Jonas up and down gently in her arms while Matt returned with the diaper.

It took a bit before they managed to put Jonas to bed, but eventually, he laid peacefully in his crib as if nothing at all had happened only minutes earlier.

"Hopefully he doesn't wake us up again," Matt joked lightly as they entered their room, together this time.

"Wake you up you mean," Tessa replied.

"Why weren't you in bed anyway?" Matt asked.

"Just thinking," Tessa said vaguely as they lay down next to each other.

"What about?" Matt questioned. "It couldn't have been just anything."

Tessa remained silent for a long moment while Matt wrapped his arms around her from behind, pulling her close to him. She sighed in pleasure with the contact, but her mind remained in turmoil.

"I was thinking about Reaping Day," Tessa said finally.

"We'll be okay," Matt insisted. "It's unlikely that one of us is reaped."

"Doesn't mean it can't happen," Tessa returned.

"Don't worry about it," Matt whispered. "There's nothing we can do about it now."

"But what would happen to Jonas?" Tessa asked.

"Your grandmother can take care of him," Matt said. "It would be better than sending him to an orphanage."

"One of us will still be here to take care of him," Tessa said. "At least he'll still have one parent."

Matt was dead silent. His silence said more than his words ever could. In that moment, Tessa knew, through years of love, exactly what Matt was thinking.

"Promise me that, if I'm reaped, you won't volunteer," Tessa whispered.

Matt still said nothing. Tessa turned over in bed to face him and look him in the eyes. Matt looked right back at Tessa's eyes with an unflinching gaze.

"Please," Tessa begged. "Promise me."

"I can't do that," Matt returned hoarsely.

"Matt…" Tessa trailed off, unable to think of what to say.

"If it happens, I won't let you go alone," Matt said. "I can't."

"But Jonas…" Tessa still couldn't think of what to say. "Matt you can't do that."

Matt sighed and kissed her forehead. It was sad to think that they were forced into this position, that they had to consider how to take care of their son in the event that one of them was sent to their likely death.

"Let's just try to relax, okay?" Matt said. "We'll make it through, just like always."

There was something to be said for his optimism, but Tessa couldn't help but feel worried that, in just a week or so, Jonas would be left without parents to take care of him.

Murchad McNamara District 4: 18M

Reaping Day

Murchad was among the first to arrive to the reaping square. He stood alone in the eighteen-year-old pen for about thirty minutes before he was joined by another guy with dark hair and eyes. The guy stood well apart from Murchad, like he was afraid of something.

Murchad was exhausted from yesterday's work. It wasn't like he had much choice though. He needed the money and the time spent with Alexandros was effectively the most enjoyable part of his life. Sure, he loved his family, his sister, brother, father, and mother were all wonderful, but none of them held the place in his life that Alexandros did.

He couldn't help but wonder what came next, and how it would all unfold. This was his dream he was living, but it still didn't seem real yet. It was like he was a passenger in his own body, watching events unfold, yet he enjoyed the feeling he got. There wasn't really anything to compare it to for Murchad, but the euphoric sensation absorbed him completely.

As the minutes clicked by, more people showed up. Parents waited outside the pens, while the kids waited inside. There wasn't a great deal of concern, like there would likely be in outer districts. These parents and kids knew they were safe and weren't in danger of travelling to the Capitol. For the families of the volunteers, things were different. Concern was great, but there was also pride in the title of chosen volunteer.

Murchad was broken from his reverie when his fellow chosen volunteer, Eydis Agnarsson, made her way to the eighteen-year-old girls' pen. She took a position near the end of the row, placing herself right next to Murchad. Despite himself, he felt his heart begin to race.

Eydis was dressed in a form-fitting blue V-neck top and a short black skirt. The top was somewhat tight, exposing her petite frame. Matching the skirt was a pair of black high heels. Her light brown hair blew lightly in the wind, exposing the nape of her neck. She was absolutely stunning and beautiful.

Beautiful, the word meant so much, because it contained a meaning that other adjectives like hot or pretty just didn't hold.

She turned her freckled face toward Murchad, meeting his gaze with calm brown eyes. Murchad stared back, unable to tear his eyes away from her.

"I don't look too bad, do I?" Eydis asked quietly.

You look beautiful: that's what Murchad wanted to say. Instead, with his tongue tied in his mouth, Murchad struggled to find something else to say.

"You make me look like a chump," Murchad finally managed to spit out.

Damn it! Why did he say that? He was such an idiot.

Eydis blushed fiercely and looked down at her shoes, unable to meet his eyes. Murchad just kept staring until he was finally torn away by the arrival of the victors and escort.

"Hello District 4!" The escort greeted cheerfully. "This is a wonderful day, isn't it?"

The escort was Avila Levine, a Capitolian with a poetic disposition. From what Murchad was aware, she wrote her own poetry and read it to the tributes often. He supposed that was quite nice. It was certainly better than treating them like dirt because they came from the districts not the Capitol.

"Let's begin, shall we?" Avila asked. "Here is our wonderful President Cornell Viktor's Reaping Day speech."

Avila didn't seem to have the same contempt for Viktor that other Capitolians did, but Murchad couldn't really know the depth of her opinion for Viktor, or other Capitolians' opinions for that matter. He simply hadn't met more than two of them.

"What a wonderful speech," Avila commented idly as the video of the President shut off.

She was right in some sense. The President was a good speaker.

"We'll begin with the girls this year," Avila announced and crossed the stage towards the two glass bowls of names.

She lifted the paper high and read the name. Next to him, he could practically feel the excitement and pride radiating off Eydis's skin. It just made her all the more attractive when she was confident, which sadly, seemed somewhat rare.

"Zoe Still," Avila said.

It took only a few seconds before Eydis spoke. She took a deep breath then called out confidently to the crowd.

"I volunteer!" Eydis stated firmly.

The crowd parted before her, and Eydis held her head high, making her way to the stage. Her heels clacked as she stepped in a manner that suggested authority.

"What's your name dear?" Avila questioned, holding the microphone down to Eydis's level.

"Eydis Agnarsson," She answered firmly, but said nothing more.

Now that he looked closer, it seemed that Eydis was slightly nervous. Her left hand was clenched in a fist and shook slightly. She likely didn't say anything else because she was afraid her words would fall flat. What Eydis didn't realize, was that she was like a siren, holding the attention of everyone in the reaping square.

"And now for the boys," Avila withdrew a second slip of paper. "Gabriel Machado!"

"I volunteer!" Murchad didn't hesitate, even for a split second.

He made his way through the crowd before it was ready to part before him. He apologized quietly to a seventeen-year-old boy who he bumped into rather hard. Once on stage, he took his place alongside Eydis, finding it incredibly hard not to look at her.

"And you my friend? Who are you?" Avila asked with a polite smile. Something about that smile actually seemed genuine.

"My name is Murchad McNamara," He greeted the crowd. "I'm looking to put on a show."

He gave a mock salute to the people in the crowd. They cheered in response.

Turning his attention to the edge of the stage, he caught the dark eyes of Alexandros. The old victor sent a firm nod in Murchad's direction. He replied in kind.

Matt Scotch District 11: 18M

Reaping Day

"Good luck," Annette Scotch, Tessa's grandmother, said.

Matt started at the words. It was the nicest thing she had ever heard Annette say. She wasn't exactly known for her kind words.

She held Jonas comfortingly in her arms. He cried, reaching out for his mother in a way that broke Matt's heart. Tessa reached one hand out to her son and stroked his cheek lovingly.

Then, together, they turned from Jonas and entered the pen. Each gave a blood sample, and they held hands on their walk towards the eighteen-year-old section. Matt and Tessa stood at the edge of their respective groups, standing as close as possible to each other.

Matt saw Tessa clenching her hands nervously. She glanced around, seemingly unable to keep still. She was still concerned about her thoughts from the previous night in all likelihood.

Matt didn't see her reason for concern. The odds that one of them was reaped were very small. Sure, it was more likely when comparing to an average person but compared to the group at large their odds were small. They would probably be safe.

He supposed Tessa would just have to deal with her nerves until all this was over. Matt rubbed her shoulder gently, attempting to somewhat assuage her fears. He doubted his actions did much for her, but something was better than nothing.

"It'll be okay Tess," Matt whispered as he leaned over to her and kissed her temple.

Tessa said nothing, but leaned back against Matt, using him to support her both physically and mentally. He wrapped his arm around her and pulled her close just as the stage was filled. The escort, a young man with an incredibly soft face with way more makeup than was acceptable on anyone, entered and took the mic gesturing flamboyantly.

"How are we doing this fine day folks?" Tilnar Veraf asked loudly and proudly. "I'm doing well. I enjoyed a wonderful night on the train ride over. It's always wonderful to see the beauty of the Districts. I had this excellent wine last night. It was a little bit acidic, but with just the right balance of sweetness."

It seemed Tilnar had the tendency to ramble on about whatever he chose. Also, for these people a train ride was an other-worldly concept. They didn't really know what he was talking about. Then, there was the acidic wine he mentioned. Matt didn't know what it was for a wine to be acidic or sweet. The wine available in District 11 was pretty much watered-down grape juice with added alcohol.

"Have you ever had a wine like that before?" Tilnar asked. "I wasn't sure whether or not I liked it at first. It took me a few minutes before I decided I didn't. Then, a minute or so after that, I got the disguised sweetness, and I totally changed my mind."

Tilnar displayed a wide grin and spread his arms happily.

"It was really very good," Tilnar said. "I do need to find out what the label was. Maybe I c-"

"I think the President would like to have a word," One of their three victors, Echo Tiller, interrupted.

Echo was the victor of the eightieth Games. He had a perfectly clean-shaven bald head that seemingly reflected the sunlight.

Tilnar turned to Echo with some surprise, then an expression of understanding crossed his face.

"Of course, of course," Tilnar said with a shake of his head. "It is quite important that the President speaks on occasions such as these. He is quite an influential figure you know. But, he is a bit odd, not really sure why, as I've never me the man myself. He-"

"Tilnar," Echo interrupted again with a tired tone of voice. "The speech?"

"Ah yes," Tilnar said, and he opened his mouth to speak some more, but a dangerous glare from Echo set him back on track quickly.

A moment of silence passed between the victor and the escort, then Tilnar spoke again.

"Roll the tape please," He said with embarrassment.

President Viktor's stern face flashed on screen with no further preamble. Once complete, the crowd stood completely silent, waiting for the inevitable.

"Let's-" Tilnar began, but he was cut off again.

"Keep it short please Tilnar," Echo requested resignedly.

"No problemo sir," Tilnar replied as he snatched up a piece of paper from one of the bowls. "Our female tribute for the one-hundred-seventh annual Hunger Games will be Teresa Scotch."

A shock ran through Matt's body. No. It couldn't be. It wasn't possible. It couldn't be Tessa.

His mind was far off, shrouded in fog. The world around him ceased to exist. In his mind's eye, all Matt could see was Tessa's body dying in a thousand ways. First with her head turned one-hundred-eighty degrees, then with a sword shoved through her stomach, with her skull caved in, with her chest split open, being beaten to death, and other ways even more grim and horrid.

How could it be her?

Matt continued returning to the question. It wasn't real. He had to be dreaming.

"Matt," A voice spoke to him from far away, as if at the end of a tunnel. "Matt."

Light surrounded him as he returned to reality. Tessa was staring at him with a hand on his arm. She was pushing against him as if she was trying get away from him.

"You have to let go," Tessa whispered.

Matt then realized the death grip with which he held her. She couldn't leave because he was gripping her too hard.

"Promise me you won't volunteer," Tessa said desperately with tears tinging her eyes. "Promise me!"

Matt couldn't speak or move. Tessa finally managed to pry herself free and join the overly talkative Tilnar on stage. He looked like he wanted to speak but said nothing.

Matt didn't even notice as Tilnar withdrew and called out the male tribute. His attention flicked alternatingly back and forth between his son and his wife. He didn't know what to do.

Tessa told him not to volunteer, and she made a good argument as to why he shouldn't. Yet, there was that provider part of his spirit that couldn't let this go. He couldn't let her brave the arena on her own. Matt knew it was foolish, but he also knew there was nothing he could do to stop himself volunteering.

If there was any chance at all that he could help Tessa survive the terrors of the arena, then he would take it. There was no logical sense in it, but that was beside the point. It was his wife's life on the line. Nothing else mattered when compared to that.

"I volunteer!" Matt shouted, breaking from his stupor.

The crowd seemed shocked and turned towards Matt with disbelief.

As Matt threaded his way through the crowd, Tessa's face grew first angry, then simply resigned.

"What's your name sir?" Tilnar asked.

"I'm Matt Scotch," He answered. "I couldn't let you go in alone babe. We'll do this together, just like always."

Eydis Agnarsson District 4: 17F

Goodbye Lounge

"So we all celebrate Eydis?" Her brother, Roman, questioned scornfully. "The great and wonderful Eydis who can do no wrong. She was nominated at just seventeen years old you know? Wow, what an incredible and talented young woman."

"Roman stop it," Roman's twin, Marlin, said not unkindly.

"Oh, but we forget about Roman," Roman continued on anyway, losing none of his derisiveness. "Roman, the one who's the real talent in the family. Roman, the one who wasn't selected for god knows what reason."

"Roman!" Isaak Agnarsson exclaimed. "That's enough!"

"Is it?" Roman asked. "Why does she deserve all the celebration? What has she done that I haven't? She still can't beat me in a spar."

"Please Roman…" Eydis said softly, afraid of drawing his anger.

"Roman what?" He hissed, stepping directly into her personal space.

"Just calm down," Eydis said. "We don't need to make this worse."

"Don't need to make this worse?" Roman questioned. "It's already bad enough."

"Son," Isaak warned dangerously. "Get yourself under control."

Roman turned his head and looked at the floor with the same condescending expression across his face. He shook his head and snorted before turning his attention back on Eydis. He smirked at her, then threw a punch straight at her gut.

Eydis buckled as a shock of air whooshed from her lungs. Everyone in the room went nuts, shouts and insults were tossed back and forth between Roman and the others. Eydis's mother broke down in tears and rushed from the room. Eydis herself fell back against the couch crying with her head in her hands.

It wasn't because of the physical pain that she cried, Eydis was used to pain by now. She had been in the academy for years, so it wasn't an unfamiliar experience. She just wished Roman still loved her.

In the beginning, before they both entered the academy, they were close and comfortable with each other. Gradually though, it became obvious that Roman just didn't have the necessary talent to be picked as the chosen volunteer of the district. Eydis continued to grow, but she couldn't shake the effect Roman had on her. His opinion somehow mattered more than everyone else's. It really left her feeling down on herself.

The shouting from her brother and her father didn't really reach Eydis's ears. She was too wrapped up in her own head to understand what was happening.

It must've been almost half-an-hour before Eydis realized the change in the room. The gentle clicking of the door drew her attention. Isla stood in the doorway, hesitant to enter and watching Eydis with a concerned expression.

Eydis smiled tightly at her friend. Isla returned the smile in kind with a degree of sadness in it.

"You okay?" Isla asked softly as she crossed the room and sat on the couch next to Eydis.

Eydis sniffed and wiped her nose, not knowing what to say. She shakily ran a hand through her hair and leaned on her elbows.

Isla rubbed Eydis's back comfortingly, conveying her empathy for her friend. Isla would never know just how valuable her friendship was to Eydis. She was always there whenever Eydis felt down and needed lifting up. In every situation, even when Eydis didn't need help, Isla was still right by her side, willing to assist.

"I heard what happened," Isla whispered. "What a jerk."

Eydis shook her head. Somehow, despite all the crap she put up with from Roman on a daily basis, the words didn't sit well with Eydis. Maybe it was just an effect of the constant derision that she was now afraid of criticizing Roman. But Eydis thought it was because he was her brother. It was as simple as that. Roman was still her brother, no matter the shitty treatment he gave her.

"I just want to hear him say how proud he is of me," Eydis choaked out. "I want him to act like my brother again."

"We're a long way from that Eydis," Isla replied.

Eydis didn't want to accept her friend's thoughts. She knew there was still some degree of kindness and love in Roman's heart. The old Roman was still inside somewhere.

"You know I'm always on your side, right?" Isla asked. "You're the best out there this year. That's why you're the chosen volunteer."

"Thanks," Eydis returned, blushing.

She didn't do well with compliments, probably because of her own confidence issues. Eydis turned her head away from Isla, not feeling capable of enjoying the compliment. Her mind was still in a state of turmoil from the fight with Roman earlier.

"Don't let him get to your head okay?" Isla said. "All that matters is what you do. What he says doesn't mean anything."

Eydis nodded, knowing Isla was right, but finding it hard to reply and speak against her brother.

"You're going to do great Eydis, I know it," Isla said softly leaning over her own knees, matching Eydis's eye level.

Isla wrapped Eydis in a tight hug, giving her the comfort she needed. Eydis buried her face in the crook of Isla's neck, thankful that her friend really did care enough about her to support her fully. It was better than she could say of Roman.

Tessa Scotch District 11: 18F

Goodbye Lounge

Tessa rocked Jonas in her arms gently. On the other side of the room, Annette and Matt spoke in low tones. No doubt her grandmother was interrogating Matt relentlessly as to why he had volunteered. Tessa suspected that there was some small part of her grandmother that was proud of Matt for his actions.

Jonas, somehow, seemed aware that something was drastically wrong. Tessa could feel his fear and pain. Her son didn't cry, but he stared into Tessa's eyes with an expression far too meaningful and advanced for a one-year-old to produce.

It wouldn't be too long before Jonas would be taken away from them, or rather they would be taken from him. She had to fight to come home. Matt increased the odds that one of them would come home by joining her, but he also condemned at least one of them to certain death. There could only be one winner. It was guaranteed that Jonas would lose one parent and quite likely that he would lose them both.

Annette and Matt seemed to break apart peacefully before Matt took a place next to her.

"She wants to talk to you privately," Matt said quietly.

Tessa nodded and handed Jonas to Matt as smoothly as she could. She joined her grandmother, who stared at her with intense eyes.

"You found a good man," Annette said after a period of silence.

Tessa glanced over her shoulder at Matt, watching him bounce up and down with Jonas in his arms. She nodded slowly, agreeing without speaking.

"I just hope he made the right decision," Annette continued. "He could've stayed and watched after Jonas."

"I asked him not to volunteer," Tessa replied. "But he wouldn't let me go alone."

"He loves you a great deal Tessa," Annette said. "For your sake I hope that love helps you in the arena."

"It will," Tessa said certainly.

The bond of love created a completely different dynamic between the tributes in the Hunger Games. For Matt and Tessa, it would make them, not just allies, but partners. Neither of them would forsake, betray, or stab the other in the back while they slept. Their partnership was guaranteed, and it was safe. They could rely on each other without fear.

"Grandma," Tessa spoke again. "I never got to say thank you."

"For what?" Annette asked in confusion.

"For taking care of me," Tessa said. "I took your love and care for granted because it wasn't what I thought of as love. I realize now that I didn't exactly make it easy for you, and my parents didn't either."

"They certainly didn't," Annette commented.

"I know you'll take care of Jonas just like you took care of me," Tessa said.

"I'm getting old girl," Annette replied. "Life will be hard for little Jonas if you don't make it back. He'll have to grow up fast."

"Everyone has to grow up fast these days," Tessa returned. "Naivete isn't something we can afford."

"No, it's not," Annette agreed.

The grandmother and granddaughter met each other's eyes for a long moment. Without words, they spoke. Meanings were understood and verbal discussion was irrelevant. Each understood in her heart that if either of the husband or wife came back, it would be Tessa. Matt wouldn't claim victory when there was a chance that Tessa could make it home. That was why he volunteered, and it was known, even if he hadn't expressed it.

"I'm going to miss you girl," Annette said after a long moment.

"I'll miss you too grandma," Tessa replied.

They embraced, trying to hold back tears. For Tessa, it was hard, but for Annette it was less so. The old woman was the more battle hardened of the two.

"I love you," Tessa whispered.

"I love you too," Annette returned.

Tessa hoped for her grandmother's sake and for Jonas's that she would return home safely. More than that, she hoped that, were she to die, Matt would try to win.

From a purely analytical standpoint, Matt was the more likely of them to win. He was stronger, fitter, and more capable in the wilderness thanks to his years of living in the forest. He actually had a chance, but Tessa wasn't sure that she did without Matt's help.

Tessa was worried that Matt would fold up and lament if she died. One of them needed to make it home. They couldn't leave Jonas without parents. That wasn't something she could condemn her son to. She loved him too much to even conceive of a world where he had to survive without them in his life.

If one thing was certain, it was that the world of the Scotch family had been torn apart with vicious intent. None of them was safe, and there were no guarantees left to them. They had to brave the chaos to find life's order again. There was no other choice now other than to move forward and face the terror with their heads held high.

Boom! Reaping number three complete! And we officially have a full cast of twenty-four! Introducing: Eydis Agnarsson and Murchad McNamara by curiousclove, and Tessa and Matt Scotch by rawlimad000.

I'm only just realizing now how much love is in the air during these Games. It's quite the coincidence since I didn't originally plan for any of this to happen. I was thinking about one relationship at the start, and now, there are at least three that directly affect the plot. That's just how it goes I guess.

Also, for you curious minded readers, no, I didn't write that song that was sung by Alexandros in Murchad's first POV. That is the first verse and chorus of The Islander by Nightwish. I'd encourage everyone reading to go listen to the song if you can. It's beautiful. Thus begin the inevitable musical references in my writing.

Spoiler Alert! I took a bit of creative liberty with one tribute to add a bit of musical talent to the cast. I wonder who the musician could be?

Anyway, who was your favorite of these four? Who will make it the furthest? Who will die first?

I really enjoyed the submission process guys, so thank you so much for submitting your excellent tributes. I love them all, and I can't wait to see most of them die! I mean that in the best way possible.

Thanks for reading.