And now that Day Six is over, we can continue on to the friends/family of the tributes we didn't get to see last time! If you haven't read Day Six, I'd suggest going back. Unless you want spoilers. Then whatever.

Reviews!

roses burning: Okay, I won't answer that. However, now I'm asking the question of myself… hm. Thanks for the review!

dreams and desperation: How can any of us determine how long a tribute may last, eh? I'm the author, and I don't know what all's going down in the future! Thanks for the review!

Mystical Pine Forest: Don't worry about disappearing, I do it all the time XD. And I'm still on the fence about a second SYOT, but I'll be sure it's not FCFS. Did I make that acronym up? I think I did XD. Thanks for the review!

Clis2339: It was rather bad, huh? I meant to be more detailed, but my mind rebelled and that was the result. I'm thinking of starting a new SYOT around the Final Eight, but I'm not entirely sure. Thanks for the review!

Thanks again to all you peeps who read and review this story. I know my updates can be irregular at best, but reviews are what keep me going. I swear, I act like a child who just got a puppy when my phone alerts me to a new review. I smile stupidly and let out muffled cries of joy after I read them. Or so my brother says. He finds it extremely annoying. I love annoying him with that at this point XD.

Between work and school, writing time has taken a back seat. However, as soon as I have sufficient funds for a new, smaller, stronger laptop, writing on-the-go should be a lot easier, and updates should become more regular. (Traveling with my current laptop has left a series of black streaks across the screen, which is very annoying. I promised myself I would never carry it in my school bag again.)

It's been two weeks since my last update. Not my best, certainly not my worst.

Anyway, enough of my ramblings. On to the story!


Rana Solace, Age 18, District 5

Friend of Darius Line


It's stupid how they don't allow friends of the tributes on the Thrones. I mean, for the longest time, they allowed Dev's friends to be up there, but tonight, surprisingly, her family has shown up. I've been beside Darius' platform since Day One, supporting his mother as I know he always should have done. She blames herself for everything, of course, but how could she, really? I know the story, I was one of the few she told it to. She worried that, should Darius know, he'd go pick fights with Darius Thunder, our Head Peacekeeper. She always thought it best that he be mad at her and not him. His regret and despair upon this realization still haunts me, six days in to the Games. She's falling apart, and there's not much I can do to help her.

Things have been steady for District Five since Dev's narrow escape the first day, and Darius', well… collection of supplies. His mentor clearly knows what's he's doing, using the Sponsor money from the Nine girl's death to send him a Sponsor gift. He seems to be getting better mentally, to my relief. I honestly think he can come home, barring the Gamemakers develop anything against him.


Byke Carter, Age 45, District 6

Father of Jetta Carter


At age seven, finally getting the courage to tag along.

"Would it be okay if I came with you, Daddy?" Her broad, shy grin and the sea of brown and caramel cascading around her shoulders remind me of her mother for the hundredth time. But I can't take care of children; especially not out on the tracks. It's too dangerous.

I look behind the child, where Laney, the light of my life, nods encouragingly. Reluctantly, I look down at my daughter. "Fine." I say, trying to keep the frustration out of my voice. "But you have to do as I say without question." She nods so hard, I worry for a moment she might topple over. I flinch as she wraps her arms around me, burying her face in the folds of my new suit. I look to my wife, who's smiling lovingly.

A muffled voice whispers, "Thank you, Daddy."

I had never been as distraught as when I opened the door in the Justice Building, seeing my little girl staring at the floor miserably. Seeing her there, I didn't think about Sikle, my thirteen-year-old brother sitting in the same place for the last Quell. I didn't think of my parents, or the night a switchblade had wedged its way into their hearts, right before my fifteen-year-old eyes. All I saw was my little girl, alone and scared, and there was absolutely nothing I could do.

At age twelve, attending her first Reaping.

"I'm scared." She told me quietly.

Things had changed over the past five years. She walked the rails with me most days, she helped me run the station, she'd spend more and more time near me, something I quickly grew to enjoy. Seeing her in her pretty dress, tears welling in her eyes, I wished I could hide her away, somewhere she'd be safe.

"You've only got one slip in that bowl." I told her, though I was probably more terrified than she was. I had told my brother something similar, and he was Reaped. "They're not going to pick you."

That year, the One-Hundred-Forty-Fifth, a petite girl in her class was called, a girl named Jetta Bronze. My baby girl screamed in horror, and I had to hold her as the Games started that year. Her only friend, perhaps truly ever, placed twenty-third, killed by the brute from Two.

My friends and coworkers told me I shouldn't watch as the Four girl approached my girl from behind. They told me I should go home after the tendons in her ankle snapped. They warned me not to do anything rash as the flow of blood stopped and the cannon rang.

But now I'm in prison to be hanged and my daughter's dead and my wife's probably devastated.

Who cares about those Capitol socialites whose train derailed just outside of Six? They've got thousands of those; I only had one Jetta.


Reyna Quade, Age 9, District 6

Sister of Aran Quade


To tell you I was scared would be a complete understatement. I am completely and utterly terrified. The Capitol seems to be doing their best to take everything from me- my mother, whom I never knew, my father, who seems even more a stranger than family, and Aran, my best friend and protector. The only person who ever cared for me and for whom I cared.

Stop being like that. I chide myself. He's coming home.

I so desperately want to believe that. He's in a good place right now, with the orange-haired girl who's been teaching him how to fight. But there are still a lot in the Game as of right now, and anything can happen.

It's been thirteen days since he left; six days since the reporters came pounding at our little door, which he had taken so much care to fix after a robbery a couple winters ago. It fell right in, of course, and it didn't matter how much I protested or complained or feigned the pain: they hauled me out of my little corner of my home, where the twins had been visiting me several times a day, and paraded me to the Justice Building. At first I thought there must have been some mistake, that Aran wasn't going into the Games after all.

But then I recognized the Thrones and the milling crowds and the swaths of Peacekeepers and an utter feeling of dread came over me. On the screens, the tributes were rising out of the ground, seeing the Arena for the first time.

Watching the past few days has been horrid, and I wish I could just go home. But I can't; I'm Aran's only family. They won't allow me to leave.


Kyle Elm, Age 17, District 7

Friend of Logan Woodson


Logan's done pretty well if I do say so myself, and I do, of course. The Top Fifteen is nothing to squabble over, as eleven poor kiddos never make it to that point each year, like that pretty lass, Kenzi. That run-in with the Careers yesterday was pretty close, but where trees were involved, I'm not surprised he bested them. When it comes to the woods, Seven always prevails.

The crew has seemed kind of empty since my young friend left. Work goes on in Seven, even during the Games, and it's been strange to just keep going with only Ash for company. Already, I'm getting sick of his thick-headedness. He acts as though he was Logan's best mate, that he's the new Logan Woodson while he's away. I don't care if they're the same age; it's downright annoying.

I haven't seen much of his family the past two weeks, though I s'pect they're doing alright, for the most part. Their son or brother is alive, outliving almost half the field and still strong. I'm surprised that he hasn't cracked yet though. Six days of solitude and fear can't be good on your mind.

It was hard to watch the Williams' leave their daughter's Throne the first day. The poor woman was wailing in grief, the old man seemed close. A shame too- she was very pretty. But perhaps, with one going down so early, Logan might have a chance? The Gamemakers usually make it so hard for a District pair to reach the end after the little thing in the Seventy-Fourth, but sometimes tributes whose Partners fall early are lucky enough to fly under their notice.

Could Logan make it far enough?


Hazel Cardigan, Age 99, District 8

Sixty-Seventh Hunger Games Victor


"I'm done." I say for the hundredth time. Life's been hectic since Satin showed up for tea this afternoon, when he found me lying on the floor at the bottom of my stairs. When he saw me, groaning from the pain of the seventeen skeletal fractions and dislocated shoulder, his eyes widened, before he hobbled out of the room. I must be honest, I was a bit jealous; I haven't moved that fast in years. Before I knew it, paramedics were rushing through my door, shoving my antique sofa out of the way to get the stretcher in. I had almost complained, when I realized that the medics weren't from Eight, but were Capitol. I blacked out before we got to the hovercar, waking up on the stupid train, taking me to the Capitol. Again.

Satin isn't here now, and I'm not sure whether to be happy or disappointed. The eighty-nine year old grump was always good for a laugh, but now only Yvonne is here to watch over me, holding my hand as Capitol nurses rush around my old room. Her eyebrows are knitted tightly, the way they always were when she was stressed. It's hard to believe I've known her since the year she won, when Cecelia was fighting for her and Satin was fighting for her Partner, Crow. It's been a lifetime since those Games, and yet she still worries about everything. I suppose it makes sense though, she hasn't been the same since her Games, though I suppose none of us ever are.

"I'm done." I say again, tapping my thumb on her arm. I nod to the IV cords in my elbows, then to the machines. She shakes her head again, looking away from my pleading eyes. I wouldn't normally be like this, and perhaps that is why she isn't listening to me. Normally, Sonia Reynoso would be my doctor, knowing what I needed even if I didn't. But she's gone now, and so I must go to the Capitol doctors and their weird ways. The press will love that, I know, but I can't give them such a show. I have been against that from the start, something Sonia and my fellow Victors understood. I tap Yvonne again. "Please." I whisper.

Tears streak down her face, the same silver as her hair. She reaches for my shoulder, one last time before nodding in grief and despair.

I smile one last time, ready to see Sonia and Cotton and my children and grandchildren again. Finally, I can rest.


Aoife Rize, Age 15, District 9

Twin Sister of Thanatos Rize


I'm growing tired of the glances. The heads turning from the screens, then back before Than disappears. They're looking for similarities. Some kind of proof that the boy from our District in this year's Hunger Games is somehow related to me. They don't think I'm his fourth cousin once removed, I'm sure, much less his twin. But it's the truth; I don't care what they think.

The day of the Reaping, I only had four slips in the bowl; my parents had always refused to let me take out tesserae, reminding me that I was a gift from the heavens. I had resented my brother, the strange one I couldn't remember, who disappeared when we were seven. Only three weeks ago, when my parents forced me to go to a meeting where they'd be talking about the logistics of having twins or triplets, well, I found out why exactly Thanny had left me so alone.

I searched for that first week, desperately asking around about the strangely pale boy, on the run for about eight years. Mostly, people ignored me. Peacekeepers huffed impatiently and told me to go home. An old soothsayer told me he was dead. Then, just when I had given up hope, he's Reaped for the Hunger Games.

Why does life have to be so unfair?

At least he's alive. With every passing day, I've awoken to chanting down the hall, accompanied by a feeling of dread. Once the Games started, I stayed at the City Center on the Throne next to the Millers'. I haven't left since, much to my parents' impatience and anger. They feel I've betrayed them. Thanny's the one who's been betrayed, by everyone who should have loved him.

I'm not leaving him again.


Faye Maron, Age 12, District 10

Friend of Cheyenne Bruno


Cheyenne is doing so good! She's seemed more determined ever since Denny died, and while the whole District felt his passing, we still have one in the running! And she's my best friend!

It was horrid, what happened to the Six girl earlier. When the screens showed us the tributes' reactions to her cannon, Cheyenne seemed unaffected. In fact, most of the tributes seemed detached as her face lit up the sky, save for her District Partner and his ally. There was a flicker of resigned sadness in Aran's eyes, and sympathy in Malaya's. But neither said a word.

Cheyenne simply shrugged and returned to her wanderings. She's been looking for a shelter of some sort since the rain stopped, though has made no progress thus far. She seems a little cold, but I'm sure the heat of the jungle will warm her right up. There aren't any tributes in the immediate vicinity, so she should be safe from them.

The people of Ten are unsure of whether or not my friend can win. I mean, she's lasted six days, outlived eleven other tributes, including a Career, and still people doubt. She escaped a jaguar, a creature designed to kill. The Careers are already starting to fray. The other tributes are in about the same shape she is. She has just as good or bad a chance as any of them.

She will win, I just know it. She has to.


Asher Orchids, Age 13, District 11

Twin Brother of Willow Orchids


It's so hard to have to watch Willow survive day to day. I'd have gladly taken her place if the Volunteer rules weren't in place. So what if we're not the same gender? I'd have taken her place in a heartbeat.

I almost took the boy's spot too, but I knew that as much as I might have tried to protect my sister, there was no way we were both leaving the Arena alive. I couldn't force that upon Mint. And what if we both died? I have no strength to propel me through the Arena; not like Thorn, who died the first day.

And speaking of Thorn, there have been whispers through the District, a topic quickly muted if Peacekeepers are around, of course. Eleven protects their own, even if their own left their family behind for several years. Word has it that even through Thorn's death, his father and sister seem unchanged by the Games. They still have that longing sadness, of course; an expression I see whenever they glance up at Mint and I, wondering why Willow is still alive and their son or brother isn't. However, they seem much lighter than they did before, and, well, as a District with nothing interesting, news is bound to spread like wildfire.

Between the Ashburys' new clothes, their lighter disposition, and a few witnesses insisting they saw a woman shrouded in grey step through their doorway on Number 17 Cherry Tree Lane, never to return, well… The evidence all adds up.

Izzy Ashbury has returned home.


Velvet Furse, Age 111 (18), District 8

Fifty-Seventh Hunger Games Victor


The Control Center is particularly loud tonight, something incredibly annoying to me and altogether depressing. The Career Victors, Jacob Gold, Halibut Odair, and last year's sweetheart, Moara Slater, are laughing and joking about the day's events. Jacob seems particularly happy with the added name to his tribute's list. Moara mostly seems uncomfortable, and Halibut is just happy for some reason.

Jade Heghes from One is ignoring them, watching her tribute's vitals, like Ingrid Relbot and Matrix Volt from Three, Matt Electrode and Fosca Beralia from Five, and Lily Jeng from Seven. Blue's Mentor, Kinzie Wrasse, has been constantly glaring at me since the Games started, no matter how many times I tell her the Alliance was up to the tributes, not me. The women from Nine, Ten and Eleven, Harvest Summer, Tabitha Shearer and Crysta Rine, seem out of it for the most part. And who can blame them? Their tributes are safe, for the time being.

Henry has never seemed safe to me. Even after his near-death experience, he nearly drowned after effectively saving his Ally. Had Blue decided he had outlived his usefulness, I'd no longer have a tribute. But surely the time will come…

My eyes wander to my funds, the money I got for Henry, even before his Alliance with Blue. I could use these only for my tribute if I so wish, and an idea occurs to me.

Henry only has an ally because he's smart, and especially useful in an Arena like this one. If I can just send him seemingly random ingredients he can use, Blue'd be impressed. In theory. My fingers are instantly flying over the keyboard, memory of the four other tributes, including my own cousin, driving me forward. Lily and Harvest watch, fascinated, as I work, though I believe both of them are just bored. After only a few minutes, my list complete, I punch the enter button, a popup notifying me that my request is being processed.

I sit back, satisfied, as the herbs and insects and powders float down in a single case. I imagine how Henry, who's honestly seemed kinda bummed for a few days, will react. Time to show the world what you're really made of! He'd read.

My Victory is short-lived, however, as Cecelia bursts into the Control Center and marches up to me, tears in her eyes.

"It's Hazel." She whispers, almost inaudibly, "She's gone."


And it would appear as though, even when I'm killing characters in the Games, I can still pick on the elderly of District Eight. I'm such a jerk.


Placings!

26th: Sparky Montgomery, Age 12, District Thirteen Male

25th: Kenzi Williams, Age 16, District Seven Female

24th: Tulle Salane, Age 15, District Eight Female

23rd: Thorn Ashburry, Age 13, District Eleven Male

22nd: Keola Foeba, Age 13, District Twelve Female

21st: Harvest Miller, Age 14, District Nine Female

20th: Rebelle Rine, Age 13, District Thirteen Female

19th: Soot Maloy, Age 13, District Twelve Male

18th: Denny Rico, Age 14, District Ten Male

17th: Marcus Caelum, Age 17, District One Male

16th: Jetta Carter, Age 17, District Six Female


Kills!

Marcus Caelum: 1 (Kenzi Williams, D7F)

Cassia Lyra Maurise: 2 (Thorn Ashbury, D11M; Sparky Montgomery, D13M)

Mason Lepodolite: 3 (Jetta Carter, D6F; Tulle Salane, D8F; Keola Foeba, D12F)

Esmeralda "Mera" Annalise Dawn: 2 (Soot Maloy, D12M; Rebelle Sunflower Rine, D13F)

Darius Line: 1 (Harvest Miller, D9F)

Other: 2 (Marcus Caelum, D1M (Sepsis); Denny Rico, D10M (Jaguar))


Alliances!

Malaran (Araya?): Malaya (1), and Aran (6)

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

Brains and Brawn: Blue (4), and Henry (8)


Loners!

Infiniti (3)

Cordin (3)

Devon (5)

Darius (5)

Logan (7)

Thanatos (9)

Cheyenne (10)

Willow (11)


Questions!

I am uninspired. Come up with your own questions!

Lord Z