Arvum Agri, 17, D9M - 6:10AM, 01/07/207

Arvum laced up their shoes and opened her door.

"I'm going out on my run!" he yelled. Even though she went out at the same time every day, like clockwork, they didn't want their parents to worry. His parents were just as cheerful as him, but, as was drilled into her head "communication is key, and clarification is kindness".

They accidentally slammed the door, the adrenaline already coursing through his veins. Maybe she closed it a bit too hard, but at least there wasn't going to be any foundational damage.

Arvum jogged up to the football field near his house. The birds began their song, and she smiled back at them. The beauty in nature, how the small animals love each other and every new day as though they were human, shouldn't we act with that kind of appreciation? He found joy in each of their chirps, having made friends with them over the years as she would any human.

He caught a glimpse of their friend Serena, their co-captain of the football team, a few metres ahead. They were surprised to see her, but excited to talk nonetheless. He increased his pace to jog alongside her and chat.

"Hey Serena! What are you doing here? never get to see you this early," a grin was on their face, growing red with exhaustion.

"Arvum! Job's cancelled for teenage workers today. You know. Spend this last time with your family because you could end up in the Capitol tomorrow sort of thinking. Course, my parents aren't up yet so I figured I'd get in some exercise before I get Reaped," Serena was deeply concerned about being in the Games. She feared death at the hands of some arrogant Career or an ultra rich Gamemaker who designed her death for the Capitol's entertainment.

"Reaped? Oh yeah, I forgot that it was on today." Arvum glanced at her friend, recognising the panic in her eyes. "Serena, you're going to be fine. Even with all your tesserae, there's, like, a zero percent chance you'll get Reaped. You know why? Because nothing's going to work out so badly for us. There's no way we'll be separated for so long. And even if you do get Reaped, which you won't, you are so strong and such an amazing fighter that I know you'll make it out of there."

A smile flickered across Serena's face. Trust Arvum to be eternally positive in the face of certain death. "Not if I can't beat you to the Kaysons' Haunted Fields."

"Again, it's not haunted, it just has a lot of character."

"If you call that character the Grim Reaper."

Arvum rolled their eyes, smiling and panting slightly. "You're on."

Ceres Serenum, 16, D9F - 7:00AM, 01/07/207

Ceres opened her eyes, against her will, for the record, to see the sun streaming in through her window. The light danced on her bed, and she covered her eyes with her blanket so she didn't have to see the performance. Ceres groaned.

"Morning, dearest!" her aunt, Alma, said through the flimsy curtain they used for privacy.

Ceres groaned again.

"Don't give me that. Hear the beautiful birds, feel the warmth of the sun on your skin! Today's a new day and we're going to start by getting out of bed."

Ceres simply have a huff of air as her response.

"Now." Alma said, her voice curt. "I'm making pancakes, and when I've finished the batter I want to see you sitting on your bed."

"I'm already doing that," she whined.

"Made? That's what I thought."

Ceres knowing how quickly her aunt did, well, anything, lounged around in bed for five minutes and speedily tidied her area during the sixth.

Alma gently opened the curtain, so it wouldn't fall down. "Was that so hard, dearest? I'm going to cook. Don't interrupt me until I'm finished."

"Then why did you make me get up?"

"I didn't want to hear you complaining when I had the heat on. Didn't want to be tempted to use it." Alma's voice dripped with sarcasm as she turned to the stove.

Ceres's room, if you could call it that, was growing lighter with the rising sun. The chips in the paint were more exposed, the grey shining through the pale pink. The sun acted like a spotlight for her large pile of books. Ceres dug through the pile to select one she may have left alone for months otherwise.

A Farmer's Guide to Mechanics, by Totlen McAvoy.

She turned over the cover, which was barely heavier than the other pages. She whispered the dedication, even though she already memorised the speech.

"For the best friend in the world, Ceres Serenum. There's no way for you to stay here in Crow Creek as a farmer, Alma would never let you do that. There's no way for me to come with you into the city, my parents would never let me do that. I won't know this new world in the centre of District 9, but I will always know you. You will always be my best friend, and the person who dug me out of my pit of loneliness. One day, when you've finished your training and achieved your dream, you can rewrite this book, but make it accurate. You'll actually be able to teach me about mechanics, and I'll be able to tell you what you'll have missed in the farming world. See you on Reaping Day!

Totlem McAvoy"

Ceres began to cry for the only person she was close with in her life, save for her aunt. After two months, she had never gotten the same connection with someone else as she did with Totlem. He truly understood her, how she couldn't just make friends easily, how she didn't want to tell someone her life story upon meeting them (or five years as their acquaintance) because he was the same.

Then she remembered the date; the one she had plotted about in letters with Totlem since she moved away. July 1st. Reaping Day. The normal anxiety that clouded the day was alleviated as soon as the thought hit her brain. Finally, she would be able to see Totlem. Finally, the world would be set right again. Finally, she could talk to her only true friend.

TW: The next two sections contain gun violence. Please PM me here or on Discord to get a summary of these POVs.

Ceres Serenum, 16, D9F - 12:00PM, 01/07/207

"I do not want to split up with you for the Reapings."

"You mean the whole reason why I'm here?"

"Yes! I only get you one day now, I should be able to gossip about the Capitol's tackiness as much as I want." Ceres' mood had certainly picked up after just a few hours with Totlem. His train tickets were even mysteriously timed so he would have to stay overnight in the city with Ceres.

"Relax, kiddo. You can take notes judging the escort, I'll do the video, and we can compare when the two unfortunate souls get chosen," Totlem said, an air of mischief enveloping the pair.

"Did I ever tell you how much I missed you?"

"In every letter, and I wouldn't have it any other way."

"Except for me still being at Crow Creek?"

"Except that. It's getting crowded now. See you on the other side," he said, with exaggerated hand gestures to make Ceres laugh before she had to be boxed in with a stranger. She shuddered at the thought.

After getting her blood taken, murmuring when the Peacekeeper asked for her name, wishing she could be anywhere else, she rushed to the farthest end of the group for 16 year olds. Hopefully the person next to her would bring a friend and they would talk to each other and not notice her. She glanced every other second to see who would come her way, and her wish came true.

The video started playing, the Victors were listed off. 9 had a couple of victories since the last Quell, but it just so happened that two of Nine's other Victors had tragically died at the President's mansion months after. Ceres wanted to find more information on this potential conspiracy theory, but there weren't too many accurate non-fiction books at home, and she hadn't quite enough time to reach that section of her school's library, despite spending every break there.

The escort ran onto the stage, as if he were a daredevil preparing for a stunt, and did a dance performance, ending in the splits. Ceres didn't recognise his face, and, judging by how enthusiastic he was, it was his first time ever as an escort. Sure, escorts were always eccentric performers, but this one, with his golden hair, devilish red eyes, and scaly dark blue skin mimicking a "dragon" (at least, that's what the mutt was called) was too much. Escorts, Ceres knew from her days in the library, were supposed to add a relatable perspective for the Capitol, not subtract attention from the tributes.

"Good afternoon, District 9! My name's Alarmi Saxx! Are you ready to make some noise?" he asked.

The district politely applauded, out of fear of dismissing a Capitolite, but the grandfather of little Heather, who was brutally murdered in the 96th Games, had something to say.

"You Capitolite scum have nothing better to do than watch the gruesome deaths of our children, those we love, and you don't have the decency to pay any fucking respect. You sing your songs and dance your dances and revel in the power you exercise, not because it is right, but because you can. I hope you all burn in hell for your indulgence and get tortured as much as you have tortured us."

A shot rang out in the square. He didn't notice, he was too wrapped up in yelling at the Capitol. His death was a warning, but everyone knew in their hearts it would not be broadcast across Panem.

Halfway through the old man's speech, Alarmi's mask of positivity slipped. He seemed truly interested in what the man had to say, he almost appeared to feel sorrow and guilt for the role he played. At the gunshot, his face went blank, eyes trailing towards the camera. When he knew they were recording again, it was like he was possessed. He sprang back to life as though nothing had gone wrong.

"Alright folks, it's the moment of the year - save the announcement of the Victor, of course! - we're going to Reap your District Nine tributes! Who's excited? I know I'm excited!" He only waited a beat before he realised that he could not stop, not again. "Let's start with the lovely lady, who will the lucky young girl be?"

The District knew she would be anything but lucky, and the pain her family would go through.

Ceres held her breath, a silly little habit for luck. It had never worked for her before. It didn't work when she wanted to stay at Crow Creek, and it didn't work mere seconds ago when that old man spoke.

She had no attachment to him, she couldn't appreciate his death. But how dare the Capitol? How could they have the right to murder a daughter and her grandfather, probably her mother and father as well. It was a display of their power, she knew that. It was child's play to pick up on the Capitol's patterns of destruction and hatred. But just because it was easy to grasp did not make it right, and it did not make her hate them any less.

Her brain was swirling with these thoughts, a new idea appearing in the cycle every millisecond, when Alarmi pulled a paper from the large glass jar.

"District 9, please give it up for Ceres Serenum!"

Ceres felt as though the ground beneath her gave way; the gravel became moss, into which she began to sink. Everything grew quiet, she could no longer notice the wind against her face or the birds' song, blissfully ignorant of what had happened.

As she slowly walked up to the stage, some of the younger inhabitants of the District politely clapped. It was not proper protocol, but neither was the death of a past tribute's family member. These citizens feared that the Capitol would exercise its brutish power over them if they did not do what one of its representatives said. In a twist of fate, Ceres didn't mind. It helped to hear something other than her aunt's sobs.

Arvum Agri, 17, D9M - 12:15PM, 01/07/207

Arvum was still in shock over Mr Ollusk's death that they had hardly heard Ceres's name.

How could they? Mr Ollusk and his granddaughter, Heather, were the two brightest lights he knew in District 9. Their laughs would compel the rest of the room to join in, and they always put the utmost effort into everything they did. When Heather was killed by that villain from 5 a year prior, a bit of joy was permanently removed from the world. Mr Ollusk grieved, but he provided support for anyone else who had lost a tribute in the Games. "Laugh through the pain," he said, "it's what she would have wanted."

And they shot him.

They killed him in cold blood, and Arvum knew she would never recover.

He wiped his eyes, blurry from the immediate onset of tears, to see Ceres standing on the stage. They recognised her as the girl who had moved to the school a couple of months earlier. She seemed a bit awkward, not out of place but not feeling as though she belonged. Arvum always made an effort to greet her, so she would know that she wasn't alone.

He knew she would be the next of those they loved to die in the dreaded Games.

"Thank you Ceres! We'll get a beautiful boy to join you now, won't we?"

Once again, Alarmi reached into the bowl, and once again, they read out a name.

"Arvum Agri? Come on up here, fella!"

If Arvum was in a rare state of sadness before, his sorrow had increased tenfold. She was terrified to participate in this death match. But they didn't have a choice. He started to walk up to the stage, and regained her confidence just enough that they gave a smile to the audience and ran her fingers through his short, golden hair.

Once they had reached the stage, the shocking tones of Alarmi's voice rang out once more.

"Shake hands, tributes! District 9, I present to you, your tributes for the 97th Hunger Games!"

The cameras switched off, the trio walked to the Justice Building.

In dulcet tones neither Ceres nor Arvum could initially recognise as his, Alarmi whispered, "I am truly sorry for your losses, Arvum and Ceres. May the odds be ever in your favour."

A/N: So how long, exactly, has it been since my last update? Actually, no, don't tell me. I fully recognise that some of my submitters are no longer part of the SYOT community (my bad for taking so long, but like I said when I started, I am going to finish this no matter how long it takes. One year or ten, I don't care. It will be done. Although, hopefully not that long. Back to the fic. Both of these characters were submitted by The Garden when I was in a tight spot, and aren't they simply amazing? They got them done in a very tight turn around, but, let me tell you, their forms are so beautifully detailed. Thank you endlessly James, I love these guys! Hope y'all enjoyed the chapter!

P.S. Arvum is genderqueer and uses he/she/they pronouns, but since they are AMAB fill up the D9M slot.