I-I.

Titus Faust, 15 - District One Male

Lazuli and I take our time walking out of the hovercraft, and I squint up at the bright, blue sky above our heads. Fluffy clouds drift by, waves lap at the side of the hovercraft, birds squawk in delight as they land on the craft, and I can hear a faint, echoing call linger on the wind. Is that what Easton had called a dolphin the other hour?

Our mentors don't follow us off of the hovercraft. I look back, puzzled by their hesitation, but they wave us on with smiles. "You're on your own, kid," Easton yells at us, and then the air erupts with the sound of the hovercraft's engines taking off and lifting into the sky. My ears fill with sound, the force of the take-off blows my hair back, yet Lazuli fares even worse - a few extensions blow away into the wind with the rise of the hovercraft, and she yelps in surprise.

As Lazuli runs after the missing extensions, muttering something foul to herself, I look around the beach that we're standing on. It's beautiful here, palm trees bending in the wind and sand under my shoes, and on an impulse I tear them off and throw them into the surf - I'd rather be barefoot today. "This is a gorgeous place, don't you think?" I murmur to Lazuli, who nods in reply. She's found two of the extensions, but the others vanished into the forest - too far to be worth it.

"Where are we supposed to go?" Lazuli asks, deciding to take the rest of the extensions out before she loses any more.

"I don't know, but there's arrows over there - can you see the signs?" I point to the trees, where wooden signs are nailed into their trunks. They all point to the right, and if I stand on my toes I can see what they're pointing to - some building nestled in the trees, its white peaks standing just above the forest's older growth.

"Then we'll head that way," Lazuli replies. And we begin our journey, deeper into the bushes.

Penny Cogswheel, 16 - District Five Female

Mikael drags his feet through the sand, touches every leaf visible along the path, tries to kiss a toad-thing that, thankfully, hops away before his lips meet its shiny backside, and stumbles through the jungle behind me in the clumsiest manner possible. Still, we arrive at the building in a respectable time. As I enter the clearing, well ahead of my district partner, I notice the other paths cut into the mouth of the jungle. As I focus my attention, silhouettes emerge. Another pair steps out of their path, hurrying towards the building.

"Careers?" Mikael whispers, and I take a step back. Have the Games begun yet? Should I find a tree that I can climb and hope they choose Mikael as a target? But the pair takes no notice. They're strongly built, but they seem strangely vulnerable without weapons in their hands. The girl, blonde hair spilling down her back, nudges the boy, and he glares back at her before they try the gate and open it into another clearing.

"I'm going too," I say, surprised by my own initiative.

"Sure! Where do you think we're going?" Mikael murmurs, following behind me with a lazy grin. I wish I could punch that smarmy, stupid look off of his face. "Maybe this is where we're stopping this year before the Games start."

"Maybe," I reply, and I jerk the gate open. "Let's find out."

Zirconia Bell, 18 - District Two Female

It seems that we're the first to have arrived at the building. Aasim cuts me off as I take a step towards the gate, his head nodding sharply before he ducks into the clearing. I wrinkle my nose. He wants to go it alone here, even though we don't know what we're heading into - why? Has he lost his head?

I, too, enter the clearing ahead of us. There's no point in simmering. Now is the time for action.

We are the first here - the sand shimmers under our feet, still warm from the glowing, baking sun. And there are stacks of crates at the edge of the clearing, tufts of half-dead grass leaning beside them. To my right, a building - the building, I presume. Aasim tries the glass door that leads into the building, disappointed when the door doesn't budge. "Guess I'm stuck out here."

"You mean we." I point up to a balcony above, a light-blonde head peering down at us. "And we have company."

The head disappears in a flurry of activity, loud stamps marking their exit from the balcony in a heavy staccato. I turn, curious to see if others have arrived. I see Aasim leaning against a gate, and four other pairs standing in clusters around the clearing - a lot of skinny little things that hang closer to the crates, and a tall girl with dark brown hair and a self-satisfied smile. I like her already.

"You the Four girl?" I ask, an impulsive gamble. Her tan may be from Eleven or Ten, but she looks too strong, too full of energy to be from an outer district. "Good to see a fellow career."

"How'd you guess?" the girl replies. Her voice tinkles with amusement, a bubbly tone. "Was it the necklace? Aren't there shells in other districts?"

"Are there seas in other districts?" I shrug, glancing at the colourful necklace that hangs around her shoulders. "We have fossils up in the mountains. Do those count?"

"I don't think so..." the girl trails off as a horn begins to blare in the distance, louder and louder as more enter the clearing. There are easily twenty of us here now - are there any pairs that are missing?

The face appears over the balcony once more, with two others at their side. "Please close the gate behind you."

Daveth Brass, 17 - District Six Male

"Please close the gate behind you. I see that you've all arrived - well done." A man waves to us all from a balcony that teeters over my head, dark hair aglow in the sun. "Welcome, welcome! All twenty-four of you will begin the experience of your lifetime - the Hunger Games."

Someone curses among the group, a four-letter expletive that makes Makenna giggle. I can't tell who it is. They've done a good job at keeping themselves hidden - after all, there could be peacekeepers in the building. There could be mutts in the building. We might start now.

The man disappears, along with the two women beside him. In a moment, they reach the glass doors below and push them open. Striding into the courtyard, the tallest woman nods sternly at all of us. "You'll do."

"Do they know where they'll begin yet?" the shorter one asks, eyes glancing at the crowd over the large box in her arms. "You do know that we'll have to inform them of what they're doing here."

The man ignores her. "You'll all be playing in a different format than what you're used to - no breaking necks, no clashing swords, no spilling blood this year. The Hunger Games are not just a game of brawn, but a game of mind over matter - this year will exemplify that."

"We're supposed to kill each other by bashing our skulls together until someone's splits open, then?" someone quips. A wave of laughter spreads through the tributes, quieting to a murmur when the man raises an eyebrow.

"Only one of you will leave, of course - they'll be the sole Survivor of the Hunger Games. But as a group, you will decide who leaves this year. You'll live on the island in tribes, creating camps where you'll live as you compete and fight one another for the victory. You are in charge of your own fate in the Games, but in order to win this competition you'll have to make peace with your tribes and form connections to bring you to the end. You can't rely on brawn alone. You'll need each other to stay alive, but only one can win."

Makenna Ja, 18 - District Six Female

"Please step forward when your name is called, everyone." The bubbly woman waves to us all, finally dropping the crate at her feet. Inside are a bunch of bandanas, pale greens and light oranges that blend together a various amount of shades together. "Our first tribe - the Tapia tribe - will be clad in green, while the Angraeca tribe will be taking these lovely orange bandanas. These violets will go to the last tribe, Catharantha."

"Makenna Ja!" calls the taller woman, waving towards me. "Please step forward and take your Tapia bandana."

I gulp. Daveth nudges me forward and I take my first step away from the safety of the crowd. I'm vulnerable out here, being the first up, and I try not to hunch my shoulders and shrink away as I take my bandana. There'll be eleven others standing with me soon enough. But then what?

"Arthur Lockweed, Martha Randall, you are Catharantha! Zirconia Bell, Tapia! Florian Yarrow, Brendan Reeves, Angraeca!" Two boys head towards the trio and take their orange bandanas, and I bite my lip when I see one of the career girls step away from the pack they've already formed and to the crate. She fingers her bandana when she comes over to my side, flashing a grin my way.

"We'll beat them," Zirconia murmurs. "Don't you worry - Makenna?"

I nod.

"Aasim Habibi, Anne Fisticuff, Ryelie Sammons - all of you join Tapia! Titus Faust, Daveth Brass, and Dafne Waldgrave - Angraeca! Silas Folage, Urie Garcia, Fleur Laveau - Catharantha."

Daveth walks towards the orange tribe and raises a speculative eyebrow, glancing at his fellow tribemates. I don't like the look of Aasim - he avoids eye contact with me as he stands to the side, staring over at the other tribe. Zirconia rolls her eyes when she sees him. She takes a step away from him and towards me, and I resist the urge to move away. She doesn't mean any harm by it. I think.

Urie Garcia, 15 - District Ten Female

"Finley Ammeti, Lavern La Vernet - please join Tapia! Penny Cogswheel, Baize Damask - head to Angraeca! Aloma Moamo'o, Keaton Huang, you're heading to Catharantha." People keep filing towards the teams in a steady flow, grabbing their bandanas from the ladies and holding them in their arms. I unfold my bandana and wrap it around my hair, admiring the stretchy lengths of fabric that form the bandana. Now that's a lot of material.

"Lazuli Oberyl, Angraeca. Mikael Samer, head to Tapia. Seibold Carrington, please take the final spot with Catharantha." The tall lady waves them forward, and we take our spots next to one another.

I look over my team, hiding a grimace when I see the three younger teens with purple bandanas in their hands. For a random draw, we somehow managed to end up with all of the youngest players.

The one career who ended up on our tribe seems to notice the same thing as I do, eyeing the youngest three with mild distaste. When she notices that I'm watching her, she manages to hide her expression again. She's remarkably quick.

My eyes drift over to the green tribe, full of tall players and well-built careers. How did they get three?

"Hey," murmurs a taller boy, his skin tanned to the point of shining like gold in the sun. "Do you think we'll have to fight each other, or will we just start choosing who leaves now? Seibold, by the way. From District Eight."

"Urie from Ten," I reply. I gaze at the youngest boy, whose dark, shaggy hair seems to be tipped with some sort of violet dye. "I already have a few ideas in mind for who should stay."

Silas Folage, 17 - District Seven Male

The second tallest boy in the group still stands four inches below me. I can't help but feel that I stand out in the group - in more ways than one. But I don't mind being the odd one out. I'm used to that.

"Now that you've all joined your tribes, I'll let you know that you'll be competing with one another for victory in the Games. Not long-term, of course - only one can win - but in these early stages, you'll rely on your tribe to keep you safe. Angraeca, Tapia, Catharantha - all of you will be competing every round to win challenges. If you win a challenge, you'll be safe from the impending vote - if not, your tribe will choose one person to leave."

To die are the words left unspoken. I look down at the others, then back to the three adults I assume must be gamemakers.

The shorter woman waves to us all, excited to speak. "Your first round, you will compete in a game called Supply Dump. Your tribe will head through an obstacle course, working together to get through all of the obstacles. Your goal is to reach the finish line first - if not, then you may be one of the first two tributes to lose these Games. You wouldn't want that, now would you?"

The career girl is whispering to one of the boys, pointing to the gates in front of us. I notice the walls at the edge of the path that are framed by tall grass and palm trees, shadows obscuring them from view. Is that a rope I see dangling over the wall?

"But before you go, you'll have to make an important decision," calls out the shorter woman. "In these crates are supplies essential to your wellbeing on the island - fire, food, and supplies that will make your stay that much more comfortable. The only supplies you will be allowed to bring back to your campsites are the ones that you carry with you through the obstacle course and to the finish line. Think carefully about your choices - is a victory and safety from the first two votes more important than being well-rested and fed for future competitions?"

The thing is, I don't know.

Arthur Lockweed, 13 - District Twelve Male

My tribe is the youngest here, I think - unless there are thirteen-year-olds who are just short of six feet and weigh close to 200 pounds in the mix this year, we have the youngest group of everyone. My nose wrinkles in distaste at the other tribes, looking at a group with three careers clustered on the side. How did they get three?

"Well..." one of the girls, stocky but built, looks at us. "We might as well come up with a game plan. How are we going to get through this?"

"I can take whatever we need," offers the career. "I'm Aloma. I don't mind carrying heavy stuff."

"We need a fire!" says the youngest boy, purple spikes of hair sticking up on all ends. "And I think we should get food, too. How are we going to fish here? Is it going to be like that Games where they were in a lagoon and one of the girls got stuck in the coral reef and then those shark-things grabbed her and started dragging her down and the blood was-"

"We need food, but fire is most important," I pipe up. "Does anyone know how to build a fire?

A girl with blond hair groans, then nods.

"Are you ready, tributes?" the man calls out, pointing us in the direction of the crates. "When I say go, pick out your supplies and begin the course. Ready… set..."

"Good luck," whispers the stocky girl, and I grin back.

"Go!"

Yeah, I took a while again. OOPS!

As the game is only just beginning, it may not feel the same way as Survivor for the first few chapters. I plan to segue the tributes into the realization that this is actually a competition, so I hope you enjoy these first few povs of everyone realizing what they're getting into!

As always, enjoy! I'll see you soon with the next chapter - already written, just being finetuned. Until next time, TheAmazingJAJ