Heyo, peeps! Sorry it's taken so long, but my math class has been hectic, and, well, I have other classes I have to work with. Today, however, I have finally finished the chapter! It probably would have been sooner, but the outfit descriptions got rather tedious… And I read Harry Potter for the first time.

Speaking of outfits, if I didn't describe the costume you described to me, or I have modified it, that was my decision, blah blah blah. Also, anything negative I say, note, is in the POV of my Head Gamemaker, not necessarily my own. So there.

Reviews!:

Rina-The-Fangirl: I'm glad you liked it, it took me awhile. Then again, you already knew that. I hope you enjoy this one just as much!

dreams and desperation: Thank for the heads-up, I went back and fixed it. I can't believe it's been nearly a year either… I thought I'd be done by now! Thanks for the review!

roses burning: I'm glad you liked the chapter, I worked hard on it. I'm going to assume that that means Dev's up for any possible all(y)(ies). I'll see what the other tributes say to that.

Jaybird8101: Thanks for the review, one that was actually on the chapter we were talking about! I mean, come on Jamers. And honestly, I added that part partially for your own benefit.

TranscendentElvenRanger: Haha, you caught the D6 reference! That was one of the main ones I put in, it's always fun to drop one now and again. Thank you so much for the review!

MushtcheNinja29: I'm glad you liked the chapter, I really tried to open Infiniti's backstory a little bit more. I think I succeeded.

Clis2339: It's okay that you didn't catch any, it was quite a long chapter. I agree with you on the Careers, but I also feel that my outer Districts are quite strong too, albeit younger.

In TranscendentElvenRanger's Forest of Death: The 54th Hunger Games, my District One female tribute, Atalanta Bliss, is a confirmed survivor of Day 8 (Part One), with 2 kills. She's made the Top 12, HALLELUJAH! However, I don't like what I think is about to happen…

It has been brought to my attention that the site I made didn't work. I went ahead and fixed it, but I'll put it back up here: lordzagreushungergames .weebly .com. Check it out!

I am going to Disneyland this next week, so I should have the time to update at least once or twice. I know I've promised short waits before, but what else could distract me from writing on the way down, honestly?

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


Mars Viking, Age 20, Capitol

Head Gamemaker


I have always found it strange how quickly and easily one can move from the lowest class to a seat of highest power. As Head Gamemaker, I have seen many rise and fall, a few of them tributes in Arenas of my own design.

My first year as Head Gamemaker was the One-hundred Forty-sixth. I was sixteen, and had just finished climbing the chain of command, which had taken me two years. At only fourteen, I was under an apprenticeship through my father, who, at the time, was the Head of Terrain Research. But I didn't want to be some member of some boring research team! I wanted to be the big boss, second only to the President himself.

The previous Head Gamemaker, Terold Nolade, never saw it coming. After being his obedient puppy for far too long, I was promoted to Assistant Head Gamemaker, a place of high honor and prestige. He trusted too much, and at the close of the Games of Wheat Miller, he fell ill at the Victor's Banquet.

"Sir, Alpha team A has secured the area. No disturbance from outside sources detected." I press my hand to my ear, where my V-Com device had been surgically implanted on my tenth birthday.

"Very good Alpha. Remain positioned until the end of the ceremony. That will be all." I say.

"Yes sir." Is the only reply.

I stand in the Games Control Center, in the same dark grey robes that had been worn by the previous nine Head Gamemakers. The men and women around me all wear purple, blue or white. Those in purple are the top in their various departments, the blue being the majority, those who are only the assistants of the various heads. And the boys and girls in white, the unspoiled apprentices.

"Sir! The tributes have boarded the chariots." Folla Collorta, Assistant Head of Games Ceremonies calls from across the room.

"Alright, let's hope the stylists know what they're doing. Kunai, announce them." I'm not listening for an affirmative, though I hear it anyway. I tap my V-Com, and I hear a man speaking on the other end.

"Julius, they're leaving the stables. Commence final checks." I tap off, watching the screens around me. Julius nods on one of them, his finger up to his ear. He slicks back his fiery orange hair, looking as clownish as usual. I smirk, then turn to the transparent screen labeled District One. The screen is growing black, indicating that the chariot is starting to roll out.

Kunai's voice rings through the room, though I know it is being electronically changed before it reaches the speakers in the stands outside. "Ladies and gentleman, your tributes from District One!"

The crowd roars as the first tributes clop down the runway. The sacrifices from the Luxury District are all smiles, waving at the crowd. The girl, Malaya, is dressed quite luxuriously, like all District Ones. Her white dress is without straps, and a miniskirt lies under the much longer, flowing translucent one that billows around her. The bodice is covered in swirls of garnets, hailing to her name. Her hair is elaborately braided, also adorned with the jewel, turning her hair into sparkling fire. Her matching earrings and bronze makeup give her the fierce look of a Greek warrior princess.

Marcus is also dressed for a Greek romance movie, as he is shirtless, a grim set to his face, and a line of sparkling rubies encircling his throat. Both men and women in the stands are throwing roses at him, along with declarations of love, but he ignores them. His leather skirt barely covers his groin, and the straps on his leather sandals criss-cross all the way up to his knees. A laurel wreath is set on his head, and he has some added props, too. In his left hand, constantly bumping Malaya, is a Spartan's helmet, the lower rim suspiciously consisting of more rubies. In his right, leaning out of the chariot, a spear, the blade covered in more bloody gems.

"District Two!" I hear Kunai from his station.

The Twos are certainly unusual this year. They're costumes are surprisingly similar, and I recognize the outfit design from what my tutors had taught me about Ancient World History. But what were they called?

The tributes' outfits both appear to be crafted from some type of beige stone: which I infer to be clay. Small squares of the substance, bolt-like fasteners holding them together, cover the entire torso of each Two. At their chests, a gap in the strange armor begins, looking as if it was cut with precision. The citizens in the stands all swoon, and I have a sneaking suspicion that it's not from the tributes' necks or strategically exposed biceps…

While the torso appears to be rigid, heavy and uncomfortable, the lower garments must be a relief to the tributes. Each wears a skirt, made of a flowy cloth, one that only barely reaches their kneecaps. I'm pretty sure the tributes are trying to make sure they stay decent, as they are leaning forward on their stone spears.

But what in the name of Panem are they supposed to be?

"District Three!"

The stylists for the Threes, Dulce and Rajga Emory, are honestly lacking their usual… pizazz, this year. Usually, the cousins throw together great displays of light, sound, and holographics. In the final year of my predecessor's reign, they made the tributes defy gravity, floating above the heads of the horses. The people loved Three that year, lining up to give them anything they needed. Of course, that didn't help little Katie Marue, who, through her tears, took a javelin to the neck in the bloodbath.

But this? I mean, I understand that I can't expect them to be that fantastic every time, but, really? I sigh. At least the Capitol's still roaring in approval.

The boy, Cordin, is in a black bodysuit, Infiniti in a black dress. The costumes are tight, but nobody really notices, I think. The main attraction are the many veins encircling the tributes, and overlapping each other. Appearing as if they had been woven into the fabric itself, they flow from place to place, flashing from Three's seal to that of Panem, to the names of all the other tributes, to portraits of their Victors. As they take their place in the City Circle, Beetee Latier appears.

"District Four!"

Eleika Sterapho and Ariellana Gracia haven't changed their style for the Opening Ceremonies since their first year working together, and while that usually bores the Capitol audience, it hasn't stopped four of their tributes from coming home, two of them at the tender age of thirteen.

Jasper Blue, an honest surprise in this year's Games considering how early he had Volunteered, is in a blue Roman toga, a coral-colored sash around his waist. His facial hair has been grown into a full-on black beard, as has his hair, so that it flows behind him, looking a fair bit messier than was probably intended. A golden crown rests atop his head, and a silver chain, what I recognize to be his District Token, hangs from his neck.

Esmeralda Dawn, his District Partner, is dress quite similarly, in the blue toga and reddish-orange sash. It seems to be a little looser on her, however, but I'm certain that that was intended. She wears a golden tiara, matching Jasper's, and her look of intimidation excites the citizens around her. Pearls are woven into her black hair, making her seem like a goddess.

Come to think of it, that's probably what the stylists were going for.

"District Five!"

Poirella Storma and Tamera Deit have come up with a variety of things in their three years working together as the stylists for District Five. Power includes a lot of things, from water and air to cow dung and walking. This general idea has given the ladies a fair bit more to work with than most other Districts, whose trades limit their creativity and spotlight. This year, the women have gone with fire, which I must say surprises me slightly, after all the mayhem that the theme caused around the Third Quell.

Devon Rose, Poirella's tribute, is in a dark, nearly blood-red dress, with long extensions to the arms, shoulders and back that flow behind her, the light giving the illusion of flames. Orange and red makeup darkens her golden features so she looks almost like an angry fire nymph. Her brown hair has fiery rubies and garnets sewn into it, giving yet another illusion of flames.

Darius Line, however, is quite different, with him being in a smoky grey suit. Emphasis on the smoky, of course. The whole suit has swirls of different shades of grey, looking as though he is surrounded by the polluted oxygen a fire releases. Then, with a start, I realize that he is surrounded by smoke, or steam, or something. The thin tendrils curl and sway in the night air around him, and I can't help but be slightly amazed.

"District Six!"

To be honest, I feel bad for the Sixes in most years. Their stylists for this year, Crescent and Alarius, honestly haven't outdone themselves, or their predecessors, in any way, shape or form. I groan internally as giggles and jeers arise from the crowd outside.

Young Jetta Carter's costume makes her look like, what I assume is supposed to be a train. Crescent apparently thought it a good idea to paint every inch of her body silver. She's wearing a leotard, in the same matching silver, thin straps loose on her thin shoulders. The only things not silver on her body are, for some strange reason, a black skirt that appears to be made out of spare tires, and the headband, which are, disturbingly, decorated with twin headlamps, powered up and blinding people wherever Jetta looks.

Aran Quade's outfit is less bizarre and even less original. He's dressed up in a conductor's uniform, like far too many others before him. In an attempt to match Jetta, his vest and slacks are grey, his dinky little hat a slightly darker shade. The white flannel shirt under the vest is covered in grime, Aran's face and hands covered in the grease and dirt. His expression is one of grim determination, yet I can see the flicker of fear in his eyes.

"District Seven!"

Javon Jueg and Ryaldo Peters really haven't done anything interesting for this year. Like, really, I've seen them dress their assignments in glowing trees that dazzle and shine, or as little elves with sparkling runes adorning their bodies like living, writhing tattoos. Before they were assigned to Seven in the One Forty-Third, they had given Six their first Victor in twenty years. Their first Seven even won. But this year, well… I'll have to talk to them about their dismal performance.

Kenzi, the beautiful, renowned model from the Lumber District is in a dress. I suppose that's what she normally wears, but this dress isn't glamourous or even double-take worthy. Nothing like the pearly wedding gowns or the revealing slips Capitolites goggle over. No, this one covers her whole body other than her hands and head, and appears to be made entirely out of leaves. The bulky material, much to the crowd's dismay, shows them nothing worth seeing. Her shining blonde hair has been pulled up, pinecones woven into the luscious strands.

Logan is also dressed in the same, er, natural material, though they form a crinkly green and brown suit. His darker hair has been left ruffled and messy, and while it's slightly charming, it is, perhaps, too wild. I pinch the bridge of my nose as I hear gasps from the Gamemakers around me, and I look back up. Sighing in relief, I watch in joy as both tributes' natural costumes fall away, the dead, brown leaves getting into the eyes of the Eights behind them. Suddenly, Kenzi is wearing a leafy, two piece swimsuit, and the crowd erupts in cheers. Logan's outfit has also transformed, into nothing but a pair of short shorts, showing his tall figure and various muscles.

"District Eight!"

Bubble Venisio and Aeliana Namone, the seasoned stylists for District Eight, have never really shined in the Tribute Parade, a trend that they're continuing today. There isn't very much that you can work with when it comes to the Textile District, but the stylists do their best to garner support for their tributes, regardless of how long it's been since they actually, well, won.

Tulle Salane, the girl who wasn't fooling anyone with her confidence when she was Reaped, is dressed in a long beige dress, patches in various materials and colors all over the spectrum. Her strawberry blonde hair is a rat's nest, looking as though she had just woken up from a century-long nap. Henry Reynoso is quite similar, his black hair sticking up in odd places, his terror showing on his face. His brown t-shirt is filthy and ripped, and his beige yoga pants are patched up like Tulle's dress. They look homeless, something from the slums of the lower Capitol. Grime and dirt cover the tributes from head to toe, and I can hear a few nervous giggles from the Head of Arena Wildlife.

"District Nine!"

Harmony Whittaker and Julian Mantup dressed the Nines up the way most had expected after hearing the boy's name. Thanatos was a god of death in the Greek myths, something the stylists obviously realized once he'd been Reaped. They tailored the costumes to Mr. Rize instead of Miss Miller, and I assume it's because Wheat's costume had been fixed to him.

Thanatos has been dressed up in a long black cloak, one which swirls in the chariot's wake. The cloak covers everything but his unnaturally pale hands, looking ghastly in the artificial light blanketing the Avenue of Tributes. Like Marcus, his right fist is wielding a weapon, one which is unusual as a practiced tool outside of Nine. The scythe's blade is a gleaming silver, contrasting the black staff it's attached to. Overall, quite terrifying, really. As I watch, he removes the hood, showing his near translucent head. As the cameras zoom in, I notice the blue veins crossing his skull.

Harvest's costume is really quite similar. Her black dress dances through the air like Thanatos' cloak, and the pigment in her arms and face have been altered to match her District partner's skin tone. Her hair has been dyed to look as though it's in the middle of decay, and her face has been painted to resemble a skull. Clearly, she's supposed to have been taken by Thanatos, or Death. Her skeletal face is glancing around in fear, and I can't help but notice how nervously she looks at her District partner. That should be fun to play with.

"District Ten!"

Ten's stylists, Michayla Kelly and Duxxy Mellows, haven't really strayed that far from the generic idea usually given to the Livestock District. The Tens are usually dress as cows, whether on fire or whatever, pigs, sheep, or any other animals, ranchers-slash-cowboys. Honestly, the tributes from Ten can be guaranteed the same type of costume year to year.

This year, both tributes are dressed as cowboys. Or, you know, cowboy and cowgirl, to those who find the word "cowboy" extremely sexist. Both Cheyenne Bruno and Denny Rico wear literally the exact same thing. Each has a cow print top and matching pants. A leather vest. Turquoise tie. Fiery belt buckles, though the smoke is making their eyes water. Each has a golden cowboy (or cowgirl) hat upon their head, and Cheyenne's dark brown hair is heavily braided, one braid falling on either side of her head. Denny's wild black hair peeks out from under his hat. Both tributes are hollering half-heartedly to the crowd, though they're holding each other's hands with an insane amount of force.

I tap the receiver in my ear and say in a soft, confident voice, "President Snow, it's time." As I resume watching the screens, I see him step out onto the balcony of the President's Mansion out of the corner of my eye.

"District Eleven!"

I am unsure whether or notAdriel Mirro and Janiya Elivanah, the stylists for Eleven, were happy with the Quell rule for this year. Their tributes are both only thirteen, but the costumes they're wearing seem to be the type usually reserved for pretty, muscular eighteen-year-olds. The costumes are a bit on the skimpy side, if you know what I mean.

A page must have been ripped from the Sevens' book, because both tributes are wearing nothing but vines covering their private parts, and they're visibly shivering in the cool summer air. Thorn's waving to the crowds, a wide grin on his face. Willow, on the other hand, seems as though she's trying real hard just to keep her balance, her teeth clenched and her knuckles white. It's not too bad, and my smile only grows as another idea's plucked out of the minds of Javon and Ryaldo.

About half way down the runway, the vines begin to swell slightly, small purple and green balls rapidly growing and falling from the tributes, littering the runway behind the chariot. The vines begin to lengthen, until Willow is suddenly standing in a green and purple dress, a laurel wreath wrapped in her wavy brown hair. Thorn is now in a suit of the same colors, a twin wreath snaking its way around his curly black hair. The crowd roars in approval, and I catch a small smile from the President on another screen.

"District Twelve!"

Ephialtes Bruin and Tara Quince, the stylists for Keola Foeba and Soot Maloy, haven't dared stray as far from the norm for the Tribute Parade, nor has any other Stylist from that District for that matter, since the events leading to the death of Cinna Ghettos, the stylist for Katniss Everdeen and former rebel. Most years, the tributes had been naked other than being covered from head to toe in coal dust. Thankfully this year is different, though not much better.

Keola's dress is made entirely of yellow feathers, the dress itself barely reaching her ankles. The strapless dress is rigid, and appears to be quite heavy. Judging from her expression, it's taking all of Keola's will power to not fall. Soot's costume is made of the same material, only in the form of a bright yellow suit. He seems to be faring better then Keola, as he can actually manage a slight smile and waves to the crowd. It appears to me as though they are meant to be the canaries in one of their coal mines, pawns slaughtered for the safety of others. I suppose Twelve's stylists really don't want to appear as rebellious in any way.

Were birds really a good idea, though?

"District Thirteen!"

The stylists for Thirteen, Willow Reynolds and Kardashia Owens, have honestly done fairly well this year, considering what little they really have to work with. Having young tributes never really allows most stylists to show the angle they were hoping for, no matter how much time they had to prepare for it. On top of that, having the Thirteens is rather difficult. I mean, honestly, they're graphite miners. Without completely copying Twelve's designs, they're basically on their own.

Sparky Montgomery, the more than slightly insane boy and my youngest tribute this year, is looking rather small in his costume. The boy is wearing a golden kilt, one that seems to make him sway slightly as he tries to keep upright. His chest and abdomen are bare, save for the many amulets and gold chains dangling from his neck. His eyes are lined in black, and he's wearing a nemes crown, which I'm sure would look downright funny if he was still wearing his glasses. He's giving small waves to the crowd, a crazy grin on his face.

The young Volunteer, and likely Maverick for this year, stands next to him, wearing an expression of grim determination. Her eyes, also lined with kohl, are continuously glancing up at the President, who is watching her with slight interest. She's wearing long, white robes, a golden sash wrapped around her waist. Her headdress consists of a light blue head band and a short white veil, flowing behind her. Her strawberry blonde hair has gold and turquoise beads woven into it, and bracelets adorn her wrists. She reminds me of yet another myth, but I can't decide which.


Quick note, I worked WAY into the night to complete this. You're welcome.

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: 114

dreams and desperation: 95

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

Jaybird8101: 77 (Rebelle Sunflower Rine, District Thirteen Female)

faceless eater aka slendergirl: 70

HufflePuffleJay: 68

JaymanRepublic: 65

Rina-The-Fangirl: 64

MeganCK: 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: 85

Jotunheim Storm: 59

InfiniteDespair: 56

MushtcheNinja29: 56

CreativeAJL: 53

grimbutnotalways: 53

Alliances!:

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

Sacrificial Lambs (88 points): Denny (10), and Cheyenne (10) (88).

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

Loners who will likely get alliances eventually: (I cut out ones that have been asked for an alliance. That doesn't really make them invalid. Most, if not all, details will come up in the 1st day of training. Probably)

Cordin (3) (unspecified)

Darius (5) (unspecified)

Devon (5) (unspecified)

Aran (6) (depends)

Jetta (6) ("definitely an alliance")

Logan (7) (yes)

Tulle (8) (probably)

Thanatos (9) (rather not, depends)

Harvest (9) (any and all)

Sparky (13) (unspecified)

Rebelle (13) (none)

Questions!:

What'd you think of the chapter?:

Any predictions for training?:

Anybody you'd like to hear from soon?:

Anything you'd like to see?:

Thoughts on my Head Gamemaker?:

What are the Twos?

The Thirteens?:

Which District(s) do you think the submitters completely agreed on a costume?:

You'll hopefully hear from me again in the next week,

Lord Zagreus