LMAO forgot Queenie's eulogy since she's not a gent.


Sagar Dewpont- District Two male

"We have to kill the plant."

It was Cyrene who suggested it. With the exception of Alsace, who had charged off on a fool's errand to avenge his dead cousin by murdering someone else's cousin, the Careers were taking stock and organizing supplies. I was sitting on a crate of dehydrated meals about ready to suggest we divvy up watch shifts when she addressed the elephant in the Arena.

"Aw, really? She's kind of pretty," I joked.

Cyrene put her hand to her face. "I know. It's so stupid. But I am not going to get outlived by a plant because some jokester in the Capitol thought it would be funny to send a tornado or something to kill us all so the plant places higher."

"You really think they'd do that?" Andromeda asked.

"They let a plant volunteer for the Hunger Games," Medusa pointed out. Queenie's fate was sealed.

"Who wants to do the honors?" Percy asked.

I stood up and walked into the Cornucopia. "I got it," I said, picking up an axe. Eh, let me get an extra kill on my list. When I told my grandkids about how many kills I got in the Games, I just wouldn't specify what it was I killed. I waded through the water, grumbling, and came to the platform where Queenie hadn't moved since the countdown.

"Uh..." I looked over the plant. "Guess there's not really a trunk. It's all grass. Oh well. Alley-oop!" I pushed the pot over the edge of the platform with my foot. Queenie disappeared under the surface. Bubbles floated up intermittinently a moment later in an odd parody of someone drowning.

"Plants drown, right?" I asked as I hauled myself back up.

"Yeah, she'll drown," Percy said. "Might take a while-"

BOOM!

"Guess that was close enough."


Percy Mordecai- District Four male

Cyrene and I dug through the boxes near the point of the Cornucopia's interior. Outside, the Andromeda and Medusa puttered with the camping stove meant to heat up our dehydrated meals.

"What you looking for?" Sagar asked, bent over in the Cornucopia entrance.

"Waterproofing stuff," I answered.

"Why? Cornucopia's already floating," he asked.

"Yeah, but we're going to have to go out and hunt soon," Cyrene said.

"So?" Sagar asked.

"Know how when sit in a tub for an hour and your skin gets all pruney? Imagine that, but an entire day," I said.

"Oh," Sagar said. "Yeah, obviously. I'm not stupid." I saw the dangerous edge in his eyes and made a note not to say anything to him that could possibly be taken as an insult, though I feared it was too late for that.

"Here's what we want," Cyrene said. She tipped over a crate and half a dozen tall rubbery boots slid out.

"Nice!" I said. We slapped hands.

"We're going to look so stupid," Sagar said. His expression was distasteful as he held up one of the green floppy overshoes. "But what are you gonna do?"

I slid a pair of waders on and adjusted the overall-style straps so they were taut. "Looking like the catch of the day," I said. The other Tributes were out there already getting waterlogged. They had a head start, but it didn't matter. We were invincible now. They could run until their skin peeled off. We could run forever.


Arthur Harrington- District Nine male

Tony and I peered at the gash in my leg. It really was way better than it could have been. It had already stopped bleeding. I could walk on it- it had just been faster for Tony to scoop me up. What we were worried about was the mud caked into the already-closing scabs. There was filthy water and drying mud smeared all over exposed flesh. That couldn't be good.

"How are we even..." Tony started, and he scratched his head. How are we even going to bandage this? The whole point of a bandage was to keep germs out. That ship had sailed. The other point was to keep a wound dry so it could heal. We didn't have anything dry. All our clothes were soaked.

"Okay, let's just keep it above the water for now," Tony said. The water at our location was only about two inches of actual water over a cushion of mud. Grass hid me, since I was lying down, but it wasn't tall enough to hide Tony, who was standing. He sat down and started tugging at the hem of his shirt. We didn't have a knife, so it took awhile, but eventually he wore through the material and tore off a strip.

"It'll dry eventually," he said, draping it over his knee so it was out of the water. Once it dried we would have a filthy bandage to keep my wound clean. Well, gotta take what you can get.

After a moment Tony sat up. "You think we should keep moving? Sagar probably wants this back." He held up the javelin.

"There were lots more in the Cornucopia. They're hunting and all, but not specifically for us," I said.

"Cool, free javelin," Tony said. "Maybe we can spear some fish."

"What about water? Guess we'll just have to take our chances," I said, looking at the murky water all around us.

"Maybe someone will sponsor us. All we need is an empty bottle. Maybe Nine and Six together can afford that," Tony said. He looked hopefully at the sky. "It just takes a while to get the money together. It'll definitely come," he said. I was happy for him. I was glad he had a life that left him optimistic.


Still no deaths. The tension builds...

18th place: Queenie Hesperaloe- not really dead tbh

It takes like a week for a plant to drown if submerged. For the sake of brevity the Gamemakers shot the cannon. Meanwhile Queenie's seeds are drifting around in the water. Some of them later landed in the mud and germinated. From Queenie's perspective she didn't die, she just moved. Queenie is a new record for the weirdest Tribute I've gotten. I have a reputation for taking anything and I intend to continue, which hopefully will not get me deluged with 24 weird Tributes next time. I realized I was playing with fire adding so much suspension of disbelief, but it's the Hunger Games and it's a fan fiction. We're here to have fun, not write an essay. I did try to write a Tribute plant as realistically as possible in some little ways. Thanks Platrium for the single most bizarre Tribute I've ever gotten and quite possibly the most bizarre in SYOT history for any writer.