And I'm finally back, forever and 10,000 words later. We are here to hear about seven tributes' final thoughts before the Capitol envelopes their fate.

I am very sorry for the wait. As life would have it, my parents' computer stopped working and so they needed to use mine for their own stuff. Every time I took it back to my room to write, I'd hear, "John! I still need to use that!" Even though they hadn't touched it in over a half an hour. So, yeah, my apologies. They're getting a new one though!

Reviews!:

dreams and desperation: That's certainly interesting. Thanks for the review!

roses burning: Dang, I was really hoping for a long, philosophical review that would leave me in tears, I love those ones! Thanks for the review either way!

Mystical Pine Forest: I've got you down for Sponsoring Cheyenne. Remember, if you feel the need, you may change it if you'd like. Thanks for the review!

ElvenRangerRysel: I'm glad you like Rebelle and Sparky, they were fun to write for! Thanks for the review!

InfiniteDespair: I agree, Rebelle is a pretty strong character. She should last awhile, given she doesn't do anything reckless. I'm sure more alliances will begin to take shape after we reach the Capitol. It's difficult to reach out to other districts on the train rides, but in the chariot chapter or in training is the best time for it. Thanks for the review!

Thanks again for your patience and reviews. I've tried my hardest to get my laptop back so I could finish this chapter, I promise!

In TranscendentElvenRanger's Forest of Death: The 54th Hunger Games, my District One female tribute, Atalanta Bliss, is a confirmed survivor of Day 5, with 1 kill. She's made the Top 14, and that's farther than any of my other tributes!

I have created a site via weebly. The address is lordzagreushungergames .weebly .com. Let me know what you think of the tributes!

Congratulations to Jaybird8101 for giving my 100th review! As a reward, I'm giving her 15 extra points!

I am not Suzanne Collins. I do not own the Hunger Games, or anything else I reference.


Cordin Bolt, Age 16, District 3 Male


It's always amazed me how quickly one's fortune could change. One second, you're a nobody with no friends or money. The next, you catch a clever six-year-old girl trying to steal some old gears out of your garage. The next, you commit the greatest robbery you've never heard of.

And then you are invited on a one-way trip to a free-for-all death match.

Every Victor ever had some sort of skillset that they took into the Games. Brute strength. Archery. Charm. As I board the Train of Doom, I realize that thievery has helped maybe three.

Infiniti isn't in the first car, which I assume immediately is the dining car. I can tell because the walls are covered in blood red fabric, the floor and ceiling slightly darker. As Harpy, the ridiculously-dressed escort, steps through the threshold and stands behind me, the doors close and she squeals, "Oh, good. Lunch is ready!" It also helps that there was a huge table covered in plates of pastries, meats, drinks, anything you could imagine.

It is extremely hard to resist the urge to ask the escort to leave so I can fill my satchel.

To my right, a door opens, spitting out my District partner Infiniti, who had apparently found her room and changed out of her completely grey attire. Instead, she's changed into a floor-length sparkling blue dress. I hope Harpy doesn't make me find a match.

Harpy chirps from behind me, "Well. Now that we're all here, I think introductions are in order. I'm Harpy Angels, your escort this year. I've been mentoring since the One-Hundred Twenty-Sixth. Since then, only two tributes from Three have come home. However, don't be disheart-"

"Look, Lady. We don't need your help to get out of these Games." Infiniti snaps, "If we're going to win, it will be with the help of a Victor. So, where are our mentors? Half of our living Victors should be on this train, and I haven't seen any. Where are they?" She points an accusing look at Harpy, and I take a step away to avoid the glare.

Harpy doesn't back down as I had. Instead, she inclines her head ever so slightly, looking down her nose at Infiniti as a disappointed mother would. I decide to take a seat to watch.

Calmly, Harpy lifts the ridiculous hat off her head-the Ten boy from the 148th's beheading taking place on the computer screen-and places it gently on the hat rack. She looks up at Infiniti. She sighs. "Child, take a seat please."

But Infiniti doesn't move. Sighing once more, Harpy rounds the table, grabbing a silver goblet along the way. She sits across from me, handing me the cup. I take it reluctantly, wary of the pink fluid inside. Harpy isn't looking at me though.

"Infiniti, this may come as a shock to you, but none of Three's living Victors are going to come to your aid this year. I'm all you have until you reach the Capitol. Seven of your eleven Victors are dead, and two of them are in the Capitol as we speak, coming out of what we in the Games business call "hibernation."

She gives us a moment to let that sink in. Then Infiniti has an expression screaming with sarcasm. "Oh yeah!" She says, "So Beetee and Wiress, who we all know died in the Quell seventy-five years ago, are coming back to life to give us advice? That's fantastic! I should get the scary boy from Two to behead me during training! Then, they can bring me back to life like Nuts and Volts! Just fantastic!" She dramatically pretends to stab herself in the stomach, and collapses to the ground.

"Don't be silly!" Harpy insists. "Beetee and Wiress haven't mentored together since the Fourth Quell! You have Ingrid and Matrix to help you out!" She smiles and raises her arms as if this revelation is what could save our lives.

"Oh yeah?" Infiniti asks. "Well then how many-"

"Infiniti stop." I cut in. "Fighting with our escort isn't going to stop anything that's going to happen. One way or another, you'll die, or I'll die, or we'll both die. But if you refuse to believe that old, dead Victors could be brought back to life, at least try to be nice to the person who would no doubt watch over us in a situation where said event isn't possible. Harpy was just talking. She didn't offend your intelligence or anything."

"So you're siding with her, huh? If that's how you're going to play it, sucking up to that Capitol witch, I will give you two some space. But stay out of mine." Her voice is cold, dark. She turns quickly, her dress billowing around her. She walks back through the door she entered through. She gives me one more glare, and I swear her eyes, previously a pretty dark green, were glowing red.

"I should go after her." Harpy says. "Any tribute would be shaken up after such a conversation. Besides, I feel I need to apologize." She rises from her chair slowly, probably contemplating what in Panem she could say. I stand before she leaves the table.

"No." I tell her. "I said something that made her want to leave. I have to fix this. She's my partner. We can't be enemies on day One." She nods, giving a small smile. Taking a deep breath, I venture through the open door and down a small, surprisingly lit hallway, decorated much the same as the car I had just exited. I only knew I was in a new car because a section of the floor shifted slightly with each bend the train took.

A little ways down, I find two doors across from each other. The one on my right is ajar, the left one completely closed. I take an educated guess, and push open the one on my right.

The room is brighter than I thought it would be. The floor looks soft, the walls paneled in a light wood. A large window looks out opposite the door, and a large canopy bed dominates the room. Infiniti is curled up in a ball, sobbing quietly.

Hesitantly, I walk over, sitting on the bed. Infiniti freezes, aware of the strange presence. She looks over at me warily.

"You okay?" I ask reassuringly.

"I guess." She sniffles, "I just… I just can't stand them, you know?" I don't.

"You mean Harpy?" I ask, "Escorts?" It seems a little dumb to me to hate escorts, of all people, on sight, but if that's her deal, then…

"No." She corrects me, "Capitol people in general. They do what they want because they can't receive consequences. They experiment and they murder. All for their newest possible fad, their possible problems."

"Infiniti, what are you talking about?" I ask, totally unsure of where she's heading with these statements.

"When I was small, I ran away." She looks me in the eyes. Hers are a light grey, and I almost reel back in shock. "Some Capitol scientist found me. He took me in, tried to make me believe it was safe. He showed me his lab. He chained me to a table even as I heard the screams of others echo through the halls. He told me I was only going to test a new product, assured me that all the other test subjects were fine. He injected a dark liquid into my body."

She covers her face with her hands, as if ashamed, and everything clicks together. "Since then, they've made a cure for it, but they haven't given it to me. This has been permanent since I was very little."


Aran Quade, Age 17, District 6 Male


I'm sitting in my room, watching as District Six disappears into the distance. The one place I had called home for so long, taken from me with a slip of paper. And there's a good chance I'll never see it again.

Stop it! I scold myself. You have to get home. For Reyna.

I jump slightly as a loud pounding wakes me from my thoughts. I turn toward the door, the source of the annoyance. "Mr. Quade, this is very ungentlemanlike. You cannot just leave a lady waiting! You come out this instant! Supper's been ready for ten minutes!" Fuschia keeps pounding and I feel like burying an axe in her face. The mental image, however, makes me get up and unload what little food I still have in my system into a garbage can.

"I'll be right out!" I call when I finish. Food doesn't really sound good right now, but Fuschia'd probably skin me alive if I don't do as she asked. Wiping my face on my sleeve, I groan as I realize I still had my prisoner's uniform on. Easily slipping it off, I find my closet and look through the various clothing items I had been offered. Each my size exactly, it's difficult to choose something Fushia would approve of.

Finally, I settle on a maroon top and blue jeans, either of them rare in most Districts, Six included. The feel of the v-neck shirt is surprising, giving how soft it is. Nothing like those ratty prison clothes.

The banging on my door resumes, and I groan in frustration as I go to answer it. I'm still barefoot, but I'm sure Fuschia would rather I be no later. Grasping the cool, black handle, I throw the door open, and my escort stumbles into the room.

"Well it's about time!" She scoffs angrily, and I think I can see actual smoke coming out of her ears. She reaches to grab my arm, but I brush her off and push past her, walking down the thin hallway to the dining car.

Two figures are sitting at the dining table, whom I recognize as my District partner, Jetta, and one of our Victors, Railer Playne. The man, in his late fifties, had salt-and-pepper hair and dark skin. He was also eating just about everything on the table, ignoring me. Completely unlike Jetta, of course, who was sitting there obediently, watching my every move. Her plate, filled with steak, potatoes and gravy, was untouched.

"Well!" Fuschia announced in an attempt to get Railer's attention. "What are we going to do about our tributes, Railer? What's your plan to get them out alive?"

Railer dropped a half-eaten hog leg even as it entered his mouth. He looked up at Fuschia, his glare staring her down even with the grease covering his face. "It should be easy enough to get them out of the Arena, won't it, Fuschia? After all, I've brought home two of our last three Victors, so it should be a piece of cake, huh?" His sarcastic smile is filled with venom, and Fuschia either can't see it or doesn't care.

"Well, of course!" She looked at Railer like duh! You've got this covered, man. I think back to the previous three Victors. Kendra Steele won the One-hundred Tenth, Spacia Wills and Lane Trax the Hundred Twenty-first and Hundred Forty-first. A guaranteed Victor this year, as Fuschia described, seems extremely far-fetched to me.

I look down at the table, covered in enough food to feed all of District Six for at least one meal. I know most of it will get thrown away, kept out of the grasp of the starving District children, like Reyna. It sickens me.

I pull out a chair and begin to stack a plate.

The plate is a hard glass, pure white and without cracks. The first thing I grab is a potato, baked by the avoxes to perfection. I give it a little gravy, not too much but enough to moisten it. I grab a steak, slightly larger than Jetta's but not as bloody.

I pause as I reach for a platter covered in baked goods. A fat, soft-looking baguette is lying over it, its ends dangling slightly over the edge of the plate, just like the one in the bakery last night. Was it only last night?

I snatch it up and take a huge bite out of the middle angrily. That money was for food. For Reyna. And that criminal just stole it from me! From Rey… Reyna.

Thinking about her makes me sad, and for a moment I stop thinking about the food, now messily forgotten on my plate, covered in gravy and cow blood. My eyes well with tears, the thought of my little sister encouraging them to trickle down my face. The way her face lights up when she talks. Her sleeping face when I check on her before I leave for work.

"How about you Aran?" I shake myself from my thoughts, wiping the tears from my eyes. Railer is looking at me expectantly, and I can't help but stutter.

"Wh-what? I'm sorry, I wasn't listening. What are we talking about?" My voice is shaky, though by the time Railer speaks again I have it under control.

"Do you have any skills? Anything Kiara can focus on when talking up Sponsors? Jetta tells me you worked at her father's station. Anything from there?" Railer looks at me kindly, his face showing concern.

"I'm not sure." I say, "I'm strong to an extent, I suppose. Heaving those heavy suitcases and spare parts onto the trains has given me that. I can usually hold my own in a fist fight, but-"

"And what about the Reapings? Why were you arrested?" His eyes are boring into me, and I have to resist the instinct to sink further into my chair.

I take a deep breath. "I broke into the Transcontinental Bakery on Union Pacific Avenue and Central Pacific Road. I had been mugged and I had no money to feed my sister." I look down, ashamed. "I got caught."

Fuschia, who I didn't realize was still in the room, inhales sharply. "Young man, that was irresponsible behavior! You could have simply reported the incident to the peacekeepers, or gone to see the Minister of Tesserae! That was impolite, reckless, and-"

"Shut up, Fuschia. The boy was just trying to survive, for heaven's sake! What he did doesn't matter now. He's a tribute now, and what happened in the past doesn't matter anymore! So stuff your stupidly ridiculous wig up your-" I stifle a giggle as Railer proceeds to tell Fuschia off, until she decides to leave the room. Jetta and I both sigh in relief.

Railer stares at the door, a triumphant look on his face. Jetta's is one of bewilderment, and I get the feeling that she has never imagined pulling such a stunt herself.

"Okay," Jetta speaks first, breaking the silence. "So what are we gonna do now, coach?"

"Well," Railer answers slowly, "until we get to the Capitol, I'm going to be the mentor for both of you. Hopefully, Kiara will meet us at the station tomorrow, as she will be mentoring you, Aran. However, I am willing to help you out in any way I can until then. Let's talk strategy for now. The Reaping recaps are soon."


Thanatos Rize, Age 15, District 9 Male


This is my favorite part of the Games: the finale. On the screen is a replay of the One-hundred Twenty-third Games. It's the final Four, which is arguably the bloodiest part of the Games.

That year, the only weapons provided were bludgeoning weapons. War hammers, staffs, even titanium nun chucks. The final tributes all worked very hard to get there: the boy from Ten, who killed his own District partner to obtain her mace. The little girl from Eight, a surprise in the Games, who killed the girl from Four using a sling she had made by herself. The pretty girl from Twelve, who had flirted her way through three kills, and got a hatchet as a gift. And finally, from District Nine, Bucky Peck, the boy who's had six kills, the tributes from One, the boys from Two and Four, and the pair from Seven, his former allies. He wielded a metal club, stained yellow and red.

As I watch, the four tributes circle each other. Finally, the 12-year-old from Eight, being the closest to Victory in twenty-eight years, made a move. She swiftly pulled a small, smooth stone from her pocket, and placed it in her sling. Having had two weeks to hone her skills, she launched her deadly projectile at Bucky, who easily knocked it out of the way. Before Eight could reload, Twelve through her only hatchet, cutting Eight's sling in half and embedding itself into a nearby tree. Eight took one look at Twelve, then turned and ran after it. Twelve chased after her.

The moves from the girls spurred Ten into action, who charged Bucky, swinging his mace wildly. Bucky blocked the first swing, then fell into a fast paced dance with his opponent.

A cannon rang, but neither party noticed it. The girl from Eight emerged from the woods, blood staining her new blade. She began attacking a tree vigorously in an attempt to prepare for her final battle. Meanwhile, the boys' battle raged on.

Metal met metal in a fury of parries and blows. Bucky suffered many cuts from the mace's spikes, Ten's left arm shattered. Finally, Bucky feigned an attack to Ten's injured side, and he attempted to block it. In response, Bucky spun and smashed Ten's temple. His head exploded like a watermelon.

The hatchet came out of nowhere. Bucky hadn't even had time to take a breather when Eight chucked it at him, burying it in his thigh to the surprise of both the tributes. Bucky collapsed to the ground, the blade slipping out of the wound.

"Any last words, Nine?" She asked after retrieving her hatchet. She swung and swung, Bucky's club somehow blocking everything. Until his strength gave out. Tears glistened Eight's eyes. "I'm sorry." She says.

Bucky grunts as Eight rears back for the killing blow. Bucky's hand grips the shaft of the mace and he lifts it, hitting Eight in the head with all his might. Blood and brain spatters everywhere, and the trumpets sound.

"That won't happen to us, Than. Ten. Eight. One of us can win just like Bucky did. Like any of them. We won't have our heads smashed by a club or mace. I promise." I turn around, seeing that Harvest is right behind me.

"And what makes you think I was worried?" I ask her angrily.

"Well, I just-" Tears well up in her eyes, and I can see her as the little girl from Eight, afraid and unaware of just how dead she is.

"Look, little girl." I start slowly, so that she will understand. "I am not afraid. In fact, I am excited. That right there? I will be like Bucky Peck in this story. I will be this Games' Victor Helah. Its Amber Zaman. I will win these Games. And you know something, little girl?" She looks at me in fear, and I can't help but smirk. "Do you remember the girl from Nine in your brother's Games?" She nods quickly. "You will be just like her. Another death right after the gong rings. You will be disemboweled, stinking of blood and urine on the Cornucopia plain!" I emphasize the last part, and she runs out of the room, crying loudly.

Stanleis bursts into the room then, through the door Harvest just ran out of. "What did you do?" He looks at me accusingly. "I have a Victor's sister out there crying, and I promised that she would be ready for the cameras upon our arrival tomorrow! You had better have a good explanation or I swear..."

He attempted to let the threat hang in the air, but I shot it down. "Woah, man, calm down a tad. Sheesh." I shook my head in annoyance. "I was just watching the finale for Bucky's Games. She couldn't take it and ran."

Stanleis calms down really quickly, nodding in understanding. "That one was rather terrifying, wasn't it?" He looks at me for a moment, then claps his hands and squeals. "Oh, but it was so exciting! I wasn't alive to see it, of course, I was only born in the Hundred Twenty-ninth. But it's always been one of my favorites!" He plops down next to me and gestures to the remote. I flip back to the Finale chapter, but he insists we start at the Reapings.

The room goes dark, the screen reading 123rd Annual Hunger Games. Suddenly, the Panem seal appears, underneath it the words Mandatory Viewing. Assuming it's the Reaping recaps, I call out, "Harvest, get in here! The recaps are starting, and it's mandatory viewing! Hurry up!" I don't watch for her to walk in, but I do hear her take a seat on the other side of Stanleis. I am unable to hide the smile creeping onto my face.

The Justice Building in District One appears, the same as it does every year. The faces in the crowd are all calm, aware that they're all safe from the Games. A girl is called, though only half her name is spoken before the traditional "I volunteer!" rings out. A girl, seventeen, walked up the aisle, a wide grin on her face. Her bright orange hair hurt my eyes.

She mounts the stage, and the escort, Turquoise Marr, asks her, "What's your name, dear?"

"Malaya Garnet." She answers, "And I am your next Victor!" As usual, the Career is claiming Victory before the Games even start.

When Turquoise calls up the male tribute, she starts, "Dere-" obviously expecting an immediate volunteer. When none show, she apologizes and calls out, "Derek Tinsel!"

The escort seems disappointed when the thin, shallow husk of a tribute starts to make his way to the stage. Then the sacred words ring out, "I volunteer!"

Stanleis sharply inhales, unable to take his eyes off the boy who had just volunteered. "Oh my goodness." He breathes.

I didn't really understand why, but I suppose he would seem attractive to most, what with his large build, and all, but Stanleis (and apparently Turquoise) seemed to be in love at their first sighting of the man. I discreetly scooted myself away from Stanleis, but he didn't notice.

Stanleis gave a little groan as the escort from One led the tributes into the Justice Building, Turquoise's hand apparently too far down his back for his liking.

The screen went dark again.


Jade Heghes, Age 65, District 1 Female Mentor

134th Hunger Games Victor


I'm sitting in the theater car next to Malaya as the Justice Building in District Two appears on the screen. The first thing she did when she got on the train was grab a plate of treats come in here, waiting for the Reapings. Like me, she is doing her best to avoid Marcus and Turquoise. Marcus has been trying to avoid the stupid escort, who is practically drooling over him, to no avail. Instead, he's trying to take my advice and ignore her.

As the screen grows dark once more, I snap at Turquoise to shut up. She reluctantly obeys, and the escort from Two, Roz Hiccurb, begins to give his speech on honor and sacrifice.

Screw honor and sacrifice.

A boy, somehow very familiar, sneaks up onto the stage during the video. Roz doesn't notice, and when the video ends, he says something into the mic, though it isn't there, the mystery boy having had taken it. Roz looks around in confusion, and Malaya and I burst out laughing.

The boy raises the microphone to his lips, and announces, "My name is Mason Lepodolite, younger brother of Annie Lepodolite, Victor of the 142nd Hunger Games at the age of 12. And now, I volunteer as Victor."

Roz swipes the microphone from Mason, who I remember very clearly now. Annie showed me a picture of him to me a few years ago, telling me how Two would have a brother/sister Victor team like the Xerces twins. I had forgotten that conversation up until now.

Roz is grumbling as he makes his way to the girls' bowls, no doubt complaining about what he'll have to go through. He calls a name, but I don't hear it. I want to see the other half of Two's team as soon as she appears.

The sacred words are called, and a girl, fairly thin and quite pretty, with auburn hair a little darker than Malaya's, strides up to the stage. She seems quite confident, but I can't tell what her skillset may consist of. I tell Malaya to watch out for her, and she nods.

Roz Reaps a boy, but only mutters the name. Mason, as cocky and proud as his sister, informs the escort again that he Volunteers. I roll my eyes.

District Three comes on screen, and I make sure my tributes are paying attention. Marcus may be Gloss', but he's in my care for the moment.

The girl, seventeen, seemed wealthier than most of the other residents. Her intelligence may be a problem. The boy, sixteen, was looking at a girl on the other side of the aisle, his face contorted in anger. When he finally makes it to the stage, I note how he seems well fed, yet fairly poor. Probably just a low life pickpocket.

I pay Four as much attention as I did Two. The familiar District Four children are filed in their separate pens, two of them about to enter the Games they no doubt trained very hard for. The escort, having been assigned to Four during Wheat's year, had changed his name to Seaweed Herring to "further his cause." I thought he was quite ridiculous.

I hold back a gasp as I realize that he forgot about the video. Normally, the Treaty of Treason, as well as a video tailored to each District, was played as a reminder for the importance of the Games. However, he jumped straight into the Reapings.

"Keira Morx!" He calls. Even Turquoise jumps at the name, as do all the Victors on Four's stage. Orca Morx, who won the One-Thirty-Ninth, is moaning in horror.

Keira is calm as she walks down the aisle, seemingly calm. As she mounts the steps however, her features are filled with terror.

A voice sings out, "I Volunteer!" and a girl, quite attractive and sure to get Malaya and the other Careers plenty of Sponsors, saunters her way to the stage. She and Keira hug, earning an "aww!" from Turquoise. I laugh at the way she swings her hips, reminding me of a show I was once a star of. Until the Games.

After introducing herself as Esmeralda Annalise Dawn, Seaweed calls out a boy's name. Two voices answer the call. A boy emerges from the sixteens, halfway down the aisle before an eighteen can even show himself. He shrinks back into the crowd, defeated.

Mera and Jasper Blue are led into the building as the screen fades.

The girl from Five, Devon Rose, seems to me like a seventeen-year-old girl with nothing to lose. I figure she'll probably give up in the bloodbath, when a high pitched voice calls out, "That's my mommy!" Turquoise cries at this, until she can hear laughing from the screen. The boy, Darius Line, walks up to the stage, and the poor escort sobs harder, running out of the room. Marcus sighs in relief.

There's a slight commotion in Six. The boy attempts to fight his way through Peacekeepers, his hands cuffed. One officer punches him in the stomach with his baton, and uncuffs him while he's doubled over. The guards dump him on the stage.

"He's willing to fight." I say aloud, "Take him out as soon as possible. We don't want another Bucky Peck." They only nod.

Seven has no surprises, other than the girl smashing the escort's face with a pie. The boy is a lumberjack, which Marcus points out before I can say anything.

Henry Reynoso, the boy from Eight, looks like nothing more than a factory worker. We'll have to make sure of that. The girl, Tulle Salane, with tears in her eyes, asks the crowd, "Ready to break the streak?" no doubt referring to the fifty-five year loss Eight's having. They'll have to wait, I'm afraid.

I am downright shocked when Wheat's sister is Reaped. She seems sweet, unprepared for something like the Games. Wheat is probably devastated. The boy seems odd, almost gliding up to the stage. He seems fairly confident, but a bloodbath in the end. For both of them.

The girl from Ten might be a contender. Ten doesn't have many Victories, at only seven, and the mentors must be intrigued with the potential in the thirteen-year-old who evaded law enforcement for a half an hour. The boy, however, seems strong to an extent, but he's very hard to read, especially from just a Reaping.

The boy from Eleven is angry. It rolls off him in waves. I've seen it before, and it can be helpful, or very hindering. His anger could get him down quick, or it could lead him to the throne. Whichever one it is, I have no idea what it will mean for my tributes. The girl screamed, a wail so petrifying we were all relieved when it stopped.

Twelve, as usual, was of no note. The girl was malnourished, and thirteen. The boy, also thirteen, was too innocent to make it far. As much as I hate it, I'm not sure Twelve will make a miracle out of either of them. Two more for the slaughterhouse.

The boy from Thirteen was crazy, and, at twelve, the youngest in this year's Games. The girl Volunteered, a first for the District. Her name alone could either get her killed or help her get far. Rebelle Rine's fate has a tone of mystery around it.


Jasper Blue, Age 16, District 4 Male


As the screen fades to black, Mera begins to express her thoughts to Halibut, her "official" mentor.

"The Ones seem fairly basic, the Twos overconfident. I can take them. The Threes should be easy. They seldom have any good surprises-"

"What about you, Jasper?" Halibut interrupts her. He's been trying to make me feel included, as Kinzie is in the Capitol, so I can't talk to her. It's gotten rather annoying. "What do you think of your fellow Careers?"

I look at him. "The Careers seem tough, but they'd eat me alive. No offense, Esmeralda." She inclines her head in understanding. I'm sure she was hoping I wouldn't try to get into the alliance. "I'm not as trained as the rest of them. If they felt they had to drop someone, I would be the first. I don't want to take that chance." Halibut opens his mouth to argue, but closes it. He played the same way I plan to, so he can't counter it without sounding hypocritical. He turns back to Mera.

"You were saying?"

"I could take Blue." She looks at me, "No offense." I roll my eyes and she smiles, "But that's worst case scenario, District honor and all. The Fives should be easy enough, as they always are. The boy from Six could be a problem, we'll have to watch him closely. Seven's bland. Nine should be fairly interesting. The girl from Ten, like Six, could be a potential threat. However, she's only thirteen.

"Thirteen could be a problem. She Volunteered with no known motive, and the Capitol will love her heritage. And Twelve…" A smile crosses her face. "I want to ally with Twelve."

Halibut looks at her sharply. "And just what for? Sure, she Volunteered, but Mera, she's probably one of the weakest players on the field! Why on earth would you-"

"I want to have some fun." She says simply, "If I can sway more Sponsors from Nine and Thirteen, I can survive the split. I can ally with Twelve, and people will love it! I can protect him in the Bloodbath, and kill him theatrically in the end! They'd love it!" Halibut looks at her, intrigued. Anything to bring his tribute home, I suppose.

As they begin to plot how Mera'd work the Bloodbath and the rest of the Games, I leave the car and head to my room to think.

Two cars down, I make my way to where my quarters are until we land in the Capitol. Sitting on my bright blue bed, I grab the remote and turn on the television. The projection appears above the chest of drawers, and the room is suddenly filled with noise.

"-about this one, Nero?" Julius Incandes is sitting at a table with Nero Domitian, talking on The Hunger Games Network. Julius gestures behind him, where a girl, the color of her jacket indicating she was from District One, is hanging from a tree, tangled in a dirty net.

From the tree line, a boy appears, only about fourteen but already growing into his looks. Grimly, he raises a trident, and the eighteen-year-old girl gives a final shriek of terror before the trident is ripping into her side, and a cannon fires. Trumpets ring, announcing the Victory of Finnick Odair.

"Now, now, Julius, I have an idea." Nero looks past the camera. "Can we get the finale for the Sixty-Fifth and the One-Hundred Fortieth, please?" He nods his head, and the two men look behind them again.

The screen is split vertically, and I see the girl from One on the left, in the net once more. On the right, the scenery is quite different. It's a ruined city, unlike Finnick's marsh. The boy from Two is thrashing in the same position the girl from One was in all those years ago. A trident flies out one of the windows in a nearby skyscraper, embedding itself in Two's abdomen. He roars in outrage, ripping out the weapon and cutting himself free. The finale in Finnick's Games has already ended, so Halibut's Games enlarges, taking the whole screen.

Two, having escaped, glares up at the window, then down at his belly wound. He growls, until it grows into a deep, guttural roar. He charges the building, unaware of Halibut escaping through the second floor window. He drops onto Two's back, a knife in hand. They both hit the ground hard, Halibut breaking a leg. He scrambles to retrieve his trident, but he needn't have worried, as his knife had embedded itself in Two's throat.

"You know, Julius, it's amazing how some strategies work for some, and not for others. For instance, the Retiarius bit has only worked for a couple Fours thus far. Waiting out the others usually works for Sixes. And the role of Maverick usually applies to Sevens, Nines, Tens and Elevens." Nero says thoughtfully.

"I understand what you mean, Nero." Julius agrees, "Threes and Fives build various traps more often than not. District One requires a graceful skillset and Twos need brute strength. Eight and Twelve need their survival skills."

"Oh, but what about Thirteen? What do they need in a Victor?" Nero stares inquisitively. He looks at the camera. "What do you think Panem? Call in at 4-864-374-2637, and tell us what you think!" Instantly, a green button on the table pulses with light, and Julius taps it.

"Hello, caller! What's your name?" Julius asks, looking down at the table.

"Yes, hello!" The voice is that of an old woman, delicate and shaky. "My name is Kara Wells, and I'm ninety-six and-"

"Yes, yes, hello Kara! What do you think a tribute from Thirteen needs to win?" Nero laughs.

"Oh yes, hold on." All goes silent as the lady thinks up an answer.

"Madam, are you still there?"

"Oh yes, sorry. My name is Kara Wells. I'm ninety-six, I own three cats, I have seven great-great grandchildren, and-"

Nero sighs. "What about Thirteen, Miss Wells? Thirteen?" Julius shoots him a look, and he shuts up.

"Oh, yes, sorry." She laughs, reminding me of witches from the patriotic Capitol shows I used to watch when I was a kid. "Thirteen needs-" She take a deep breath, unable to finish the joke through her laughing. "Needs- needs- needs… Numbers!" She laughs harder and harder, until we hear a hard THUD and the com device clattering across a tiled floor.

Julius and Nero don't hear it, though, they're too busy laughing. We hear the whole studio busting a rib. "Numbers!" Julius cries. "They only won when they filled half the Arena!" More giggles, "Good one Kara! Thank you! Have a-" He pauses for more laughter, "Have a lovely day!"

Nero looks into the camera, his usually paper-white face a bright red. "We'll be back!" He takes a deep breath, "After a short break!" He laughs again, and the words Ninety-Second appear on the screen.

Exhaling deeply, I lift the remote and press the power button. My eyes are growing heavy, and I can't take it much longer. Standing, I walk over to the chest of drawers, and open the uppermost drawer. Selecting a set of light blue silk pajamas, I pull off my dirty, worn clothes from the CTC. I don't need them anymore, after all. Next time I'm home, I'll either be in a box or the Victor's Village.

Unceremoniously, I collapse into the bed, not bothering to cover myself with the sheets. I have a big day tomorrow.


Devon Cynthia Rose, Age 17, District 5 Female


As I wake from the best sleep I've had in a while, I take note of the amount of light filtering through my eyelids. I'm used to waking up when it's dark, to Ori's cries. I've never woken naturally.

I realize what it must mean. Throwing my eyes open, I jump out of bed, searching for the door. I'm still squinting, but I know where my child's room is. I break through the door, in a near blind sprint down the hallway. I trip over something on the floor, and I brace myself, but I don't make impact with the back wall.

"Well, what a surprise! I'm glad to see you so eager, Devon! But really, breakfast would have been willing to wait for you. Darius isn't even up yet, the silly boy!" I whip my head around in terror, recognizing the voice and the name. I quickly proceed to rub the sleep from my eyes. And then I realize where I am.

Dole Arrack is offering a hand to me, gesturing toward the breakfast table. Like last night, it's covered in food, ranging from bagels with rainbow-colored specks to deli platters to waffles to more types of cold cereal than I had ever seen before.

I groan as I realize it wasn't all a nightmare. I'm still on my way to the Capitol. I'm still a tribute in the Quarter Quell.

As Dole releases me to go find Darius, I hesitantly make my way to the mahogany table. Fosca Beralia, who I now remember to be my mentor, is watching me intently.

"How are you doing this morning, Devon?" She asks me gently. I nod shakily, grateful for the kind gesture.

"I'm fine, Ms. Beralia." I look her in the eyes. Her look of concern stares back, even as I grab a raisin bagel.

"You don't look fine." She accuses me.

I give a slight smile. "I'm doing as well as anyone can in my situation. After all, we're all just so honored to have a shot in the Games. Isn't that right, Dole?" I ask as he reenters the room, a surprisingly calm-looking Darius in tow.

"Oh, of course!" She replies as she claps her hands together. "You two will get to work alongside the greats! Matt was Five's first Victor, and Fosca had the most kills of any District Five tribute! What an honor indeed!" She squeals in excitement, then crosses the room to grab what she had called the night before a "cheese Danish."

What a weird name for a lump of bread. I think.

"So Devon, Darius. What do you have that could potentially help you in the Arena?" Fosca asks, looking in our direction. I am acutely aware that Fosca isn't technically Darius' mentor, but I stay quiet.

I open my mouth to speak, but Darius goes first. "I've fought before." He says. "Peacekeepers mostly. I have a past with the Head Peacekeeper." He glances my way, but doesn't say anything. I hear a gasp from behind me.

"How could you do such a thing?" Dole asks in horror. "The Peacekeepers are valiant guardians to their respected Districts. How could you even consider picking a fight with one? Are Fives really that uneducated?"

I sigh in exasperation, but Darius stands, glaring at our new escort, who was promoted to our District after Bubble Clearwater "disappeared." His gaze is filled with fury, the type of rage that, unchecked, can be very, very bad in the Arena.

"How about you leave." He suggests, barely containing himself. I look over to Fosca in a panic, but she only smirks. I look back at Dole, who looks as if she's shriveling under Darius' glare. She breaks into tears and runs from the dining car, probably to her first-class stateroom.

"And how about you, Dev?" Fosca is looking at me as if nothing had happened. I suppose Dole was rather insensitivetoward District Five's Fifth Quarter Quell tributes. Perhaps she really deserved… whatever that was.

"Well…" I answer hesitantly, searching my thoughts for fair answers. What have I done in life that could give me an edge in the Arena? All I've done in recent years is look after Ori. My child's sweet face makes itself present in my mind, and I can picture him sitting there, waiting for me to sing him into dreamland.

"I don't know." I finally answer, aware of the panic creeping into my voice. Ori, my sweet child, I'm not sure mommy's coming home.

"Oh, I'm sure there's something." She presses. "Not all the Victors, even those in the Career Districts, won with sheer strength or swordsmanship. Some were clever. Some were agile. Some were manipulative. Some were just lucky, though I wouldn't suggest trying that route. Heck, Finnick Odair won because he was attractive. My own sister placed eleventh in the last quell because people found her comedic."

"And she killed three people." I pointed out, remembering various replays of that Games. "Including the Victor's best friend. But I can't kill. I have a child, Fosca. I can't go back to my baby after taking someone else's, I just can't!"

Fosca looks at me sadly, and Darius fiddles in his chair, looking extremely uncomfortable. My hands are shaking, and I realize that I had at some point picked up a knife. I scream in horror and throw it across the room. Fosca's eyes follow it until it hits the wall. I turn in curiosity when I don't hear it clatter to the floor.

Dole's eyes are wide, staring at the butter knife protruding from the wall inches from her nose.

"I-I'm so sorry!" I exclaim. "I didn't mean to! I'm so sorry, are you okay?" She looks at me, her eyes glazed over in shock. As I watch, they roll into the back of her head and she collapses. I run to help her, when I hear laughter from the table.

Fosca is holding her chest as it heaves, and she's jumping up and down in her chair. Darius is looking at me curiously, the way he did when he asked me about my connection with the Head Peacekeeper.

Now, however, there's a hint of fright in his gaze.


Kenzi Williams, Age 16, District 7 Female


I'm pretty sure Lumeo hates me. I mean, I guess it makes sense, what with the dozens of pies I've found and covered him in. Just last night, I set a trap in his bed, which took the pressure of him lying down to release the ten blueberry pies which toppled onto his bed from wires in the ceiling, causing him to wake up screaming.

Right now I'm setting up yet another trap for Lumeo. I'm alone in the dining car, everybody wanting to look good for the Capitol when we arrive in about an hour. I've set up a series of ropes that will be pulled when the door is opened and send the dining table flying toward the open door, which I told Logan and Oak about so they aren't in the way. They think I'm doing it for the sake of publicity, and I'd like to say it's only because it's funny.

But I did set it up for publicity. On the outside, I'm laughing constantly, while talking loud and pulling pranks. Inside, however, I am freaking out. My skill set is limited, and though traps can help someone win the Games, I'd have to risk my life for supplies. And I can't even use an axe…

Oak said to use all my strengths to my advantage. My strengths stand at comedy and beauty. Sure, I could fairly easily get a Sponsor out of that, but Sponsors don't make up the whole Games. And if I don't make it past the Bloodbath, they're useless.

I shake my head and paste a smile back on my face as I finish my contraption. Walking around, I check the riggings to make sure they're tied correctly and hidden well. I stop before checking the last one, however, when I catch Lumeo out of the corner of my eye.

"What are you up to now, girl?" He asks me arrogantly. Remember what I said about him hating me? "You should be getting ready for our arrival, not playing your silly games. Now, off to your room, so I may inspect the area. I will not have this brand new suit ruined by your shenanigans." He takes me by the arm and shoves me to the door leading to the bedrooms. I don't say anything, thinking desperately.

As we reach the threshold, I get an idea.

"I wasn't doing anything wrong!" I call behind my back, lying easily. "I saw a rat and wanted to get rid of it before you saw. It was over by the door." I feel him freeze behind me, and I try to look at his face, which I assume to be growing pale. He releases me, screaming as he runs past and down the hall, passing through the opposite door and out of sight.

I look back at the table, seemingly normal yet hidden under that façade there lies a surprise. One that I'm sure I put together correctly. Shrugging off the final few lashings, I follow the path Lumeo traced, until I reach the room I had called home the night before. If my only chances lie with good impressions, I'd better start with two.

As I open the top dresser in my drawer, one that's been used by one-hundred-forty-nine other girls from Seven, including eight Victors, I consider what I should wear. I'll need high heels to avoid the food remnants, but I can grab those later. For now, I need to dress impressively.

I giggle slightly as I open the dress drawer provided to me. The silky dresses are folded nicely, organized by their colors. What's funny though, is that each one has something to do with the lumber District.

Every single one is green, brown, covered in trees, sevens, or axes. Some have strategically placed rips, some are tight, and many are very long and flowy. One is pure black, while covered in white circles filled with black sevens. One dark green one has a gap from the neck all the way down to the belly button. I opt to not use either of those.

The one I decide on is a light brown with darker brown swirls and knots surrounding the arms and torso. The lower end of the dress is a forest green, with a long train. The train is crisscrossed in various different leafy patterns, from oak leaves, to pine needles. The tag on the dress claims it to be made from hydrophobic anti-stain material. Let's hope that means what I think it means.

Hoping I still have time, I drop the dress neatly onto the bed and hurry to the shower. I set it to quick rinse and shiver slightly as the various scented soaps and shampoos drip onto my body. Something beeps somewhere, and I can't enjoy the warm water for long. I do have an audience to impress, after all.

Jumping out, I stand over the Insta Dry vent, feeling the warm air encircle my body. Still aware that I'm pressed for time, I leave it running and run back into my room to throw on the dress. At the foot of the bed are pair of dark green heels, ones I had never seen before. I can't think about it, though, and I throw on the dress as the cheers of the Capitol invade my room.

Checking to make sure I'm ready, I step into the heels, which are taller than I'm used to, but they'll work. I stretch slightly, and force a look of calm over my face. When they see me, they have to know I am ready. The Games begin here.

Taking a deep, confident breath, I plaster a smile to my face like I had for all those photoshoots. Triumphantly, I walk out into the hall, entering the dining car in time to hear a crash and a scream. And then lots more screams, followed by the flash of a camera.

I look at the open doorway, where paramedics are lifting Lumeo onto a stretcher, one on wheels. The entire dining car is a mess, and I curse myself.

How will the Capitol take this?


Cheyenne Bruno, Age 13, District 10 Female


I continue to eat, stuffing my stomach with various meat, wheat, dairy produce, and delicacies. I try my best not to overdo it, so I don't puke all over anything, but I need to eat so I have at least some fat reserved for the Arena.

Holy huckleberry, the Arena.

When I was Reaped, I didn't have any thought other than panic. I just took off, evading Peacekeepers to the best of my ability until they cornered me in an abandoned barn. And now, I'm suddenly ranked higher than ten of the other tributes, given a starting odds of 18-1 and an overall rank of sixteenth. How does that even happen to a thirteen-year-old?

She runs for half an hour, apparently.

Ever since then, Tabitha has been looking at me strangely. She was overjoyed when they dragged me back to the Justice Building, and she listened with anticipation as I spoke about my life at home. I guess she doesn't get out much.

And on top of that, she hasn't seemed to really care for Denny. Last night, he locked himself in his room until dinner, then made a beeline back directly after. As I went to bed, I walked up to his door to ask if he needed anything. I could hear screams from the projector, which I assumed were past games, and his sobs, which were just as loud. I haven't seen him since breakfast, when Tabby (as she prefers I call her) asked the big question.

"The biggest thing for either of you in these Games will be allies. Have either of you considered aligning yourself with your District Partner?"

We looked at each other, and I had to wonder whether I should accept the suggestion. With his current emotional status, he could slow us down. Then again, mine hasn't been much better. Plus, you almost always align yourself with your only reminder of home. It's human nature.

Needless to say, we both agreed, and I'm honestly happy to have an ally, no matter who it is.

As I finish off another chocolate pastry, my side begins to hurt, and I decide I'm done. Luckily, we are arriving in the Capitol soon anyway. I wipe my face with a napkin and stride over to the window where I'll be able to make a good first impression.

As I stand there, staring out, my jaw drops. The train is climbing over the peak of a mountain, and I can see the entire Capitol below. It's huge! Each apartment is probably as big as my house, and each complex has hundreds. Various gardens and parks adorn the streets, dotting the scene. The tribute center stands tall and proud, looking much larger in real life than on the projection screens. Once upon a time, it was the tallest building in Panem, a monument to the Capitol and their precious Games. With the population growth they've been having, however, the buildings around the city have overtaken it in size.

As I see the Avenue of Tributes, my throat threatens to lock up. Hundreds of multicolored specks cover the Avenue, from the training center all the way to the President's mansion. That's where the train is headed, to the station nearest the start of the parade. There are so many people waiting for their tributes. Waiting for me.

Can I really just throw myself into the throng of the Capitol elite? How far will they go for an interview? My only protection against them would be Tabby, but she's in a wheelchair for heaven's sake!

I'm still sitting there worried when the screams of the city can be heard through the window. I look up and smile, waving at the bright colors and flashes of light. The people before me are so diverse they could be from another planet. Beaks and feathers, fangs and scales, fins and gills. Everyone has something on their body, something not considered "normal." Normal for the Districts, anyway.

The train starts to slow down, and I hear a door open. I turn to look, and I see Denny pushing Tabitha over to me. "Are you ready?" She calls over the voices. I look up at my ally, who is trying to keep a calm composure.

Taking a deep breath, I give a quiet "Yes," though I'm sure she can't hear me. I nod to make up for it.

"Good." She has to be really loud now. "Come on, we'll be getting off any second!"

I give a final wave, and follow Tabby and Denny to the door through which I had boarded the day before. We stand for only a moment when Sir Rhenough finally makes an appearance. He's holding his head high, ready for the adoring crowd. He doesn't spare any of us Tens a glance, but I ignore it.

The doors open, and I nearly stumble, but Denny catches me in time, pressing between my shoulder blades to steady me. We step out into the crowd, where there are reporters shouting at us, asking us questions and trying to get closer for photos. We answer a few, but only the ones Tabitha suggested. Otherwise, she guides us along to a staircase, where six people, who look no different than the rest of the people in the station, stand quietly, looking at us expectantly.

I am aware that Tabitha can't use the staircase, and I start to panic. I assume this is my prep team, like the ones that take the stage with the Victor every year, but I thought I'd be able to stay with Tabitha, not be forced to be worked upon by strangers.

A dark skinned girl with bright orange hair and a rainbow, feathery cloak steps toward us, bowing to my mentor. "I am Harua, the lead prepwoman for District Ten!" She easily speaks over the crowd, and I don't have to strain myself to hear her. "Me and my team will be preparing Cheyenne for her time in the Capitol. With your blessing, Victor, we will take her from here." She looks up at Tabby, who only nods.

The man and woman behind Harua shuffle forward, bowing to me before they lead me up the stairs. I think I hear Tabby calling after me, but I can't hear what she's saying.

And finally, after forever and three days, we are in the Capitol! Woooooo!

Here are the submitters who are Sponsors thus far. If I have your name down wrong, please let me know: (Remember. You can change who it is up until the Private Sessions)

ElvenRangerRysel: 106

dreams and desperation: 92

Mystical Pine Forest: 88 (Cheyenne Bruno, District Ten Female)

Jaybird1801: 74 (Rebelle Sunflower Rine, District Thirteen Female)

faceless eater aka slendergirl: 70

HufflePuffleJay: 68

jayman1919: 65

We're All Okay: 56

Rina-The-Fangirl: 56

Wolfie McCoy: 56

caitiebug007: 53 (Devon Cynthia Rose, District Five Female)

Here are the submitters, who have points, but haven't confirmed whether they want to Sponsor or not:

roses burning: 82

Jotunheim Storm: 59

InfiniteDespair: 56

CreativeAJL: 53

MushtcheNinja29: 53

grimbutnotalways: 53

Alliances!:

Careers: Marcus (1), Malaya (1), Mason (2), Cassia (2), and Esmeralda (4).

Sacrificial Lambs: Denny (10), and Cheyenne (10).

Children of Amber: Thorn (11), and Willow (11).

Loners who will likely get alliances eventually:

Cordin (3) (unspecified)

Infiniti (3) (unspecified)

Jasper (4) (maybe 1 person, depends)

Darius (5) (unspecified)

Devon (5) (unspecified)

Aran (6) (depends)

Jetta (6) ("definitely an alliance")

Logan (7) (yes)

Kenzi (7) (yes)

Henry (8) (unspecified)

Tulle (8) (probably)

Thanatos (9) (rather not, depends)

Harvest (9) (any and all)

Soot (12) (Careers) (will explain later)

Sparky (13) (unspecified)

Rebelle (13) (none)

Questions!:

Catch the historical references?

Thoughts on where the tributes stand?

Favorite POV?

What'd you think about the tributes I took for the chapter?

Any new alliance thoughts? (It'll be easier to put them together now that the tributes can interact) (And yes, I have one alliance in the background. I couldn't throw it together here, sorry.)

Anything else?

See you in the Parade!

Lord Zagreus