Clementina Romanesco, 18
District 11

As a child, Clementina had said that she wished she was a bird. Birds didn't have to follow any rules. Birds could fly wherever they wanted to go and see whatever they wanted to see, and if they didn't like where they were, they could leave. It wasn't that Tina wanted to go somewhere in particular, or even that she didn't like where she was. Rather, she admired birds because they had that option.

The concrete wall that separated District 11 from the rest of Panem had always seemed impossibly high and impenetrable to Tina. There were no footholes or ledges to climb on it, and she had heard that it went as far underground as it did above ground, so no one could climb underneath it either. And although the girl never really wanted to leave, she thought that the desire would be much less if it didn't seem so impossible to do.

As she got older, the childish urge to run away and never come back lessened significantly. By the time she was 12, she had to give up playing pretend and listening to fairytales to focus on more mature, grown up things like working in the orchards.

"You need to grow up someday," her father had said. "Might as well be now."

Quincy Romanesco was the most no-nonsense person Clementina knew, and from a young age, she knew that she wanted to be like him when she was older. He never let emotions get the best of him, so he was never upset without a good reason.

As a general rule, Tina did not cry. She would look around at all of the other girls her age and they seemed to always be crying; over boys, over a death in the family, over a cute animal, over a sad ending to a cheesy romantic book. The list seemed to go on forever, and she simply made the conscious choice to not let it affect her.

The only thing that really got to her was her youngest sister, Olive. She had had health problems ever since she was born, and Tina worried for her. Not so much because she was a good older sister and wanted to protect her sister who was nine years younger than her, but because sick people were a lot of work and couldn't contribute to the house. Sometimes, Olive was so sick that someone in the family needed to take the day off of work to stay home and take care of her. One day when Olive was six and Tina was fifteen, she was the one who stayed. When she took a step outside to take a break from the young girl's whimpering and fill her lungs with fresh air, a Peacekeeper found her, beat her for being lazy, and sent her off, bloody and bruised to finish out the day in the fields.

And she still didn't cry. Sure, she wanted to. She really wanted to. But with Peacekeepers posted all around the field as they all gathered peanuts, not to mention being surrounded by her coworkers, it would have been just plain embarrassing. So she held it in. Her entire body shook and vibrated, and her throat felt like she had swallowed a rock, but she would not allow herself to cry in front of all of those people.

She expected herself to cry when she got home, but she didn't. By that time, the feelings had passed and she was onto the next thing. Her parents were initially upset with her for leaving her sister alone, but when she explained it calmly and rationally, they understood and apologized for yelling. Tina thought the world would run much smoother if everyone could communicate as effectively as she could.

That was yet another reason why Clementina found it impossible to hang around with other girls her age. They were all so chatty and emotional. Tina didn't understand why other girls couldn't just speak when it was necessary and shut the hell up when there was nothing valuable to say.

"Did you see what Eden was wearing today?"

"Doesn't Noel look hot lately?"

Who cared? Why did any of that matter? Why couldn't everyone just keep their heads down, focus, and only focus on the important things like work and family? It sure would make their lives a lot easier.

Her emotionless behavior worked both ways. It wasn't just that she didn't feel or show sadness and anger, but she never felt especially overjoyed either. People (teachers especially) would ask her about her best memory, or the most fun day she had ever had, and she just drew a blank. The days really faded into each other, and while she could definitely think of happy moments, it was hard for her to pick out a day that stuck out as a whole as a good day. Every day until she was 12 was wake up, go to school, come home, watch the kids, eat dinner, and go to bed. Even after that, it was pretty much the same, but replacing school with work. Sure, she could tell a pretend story to her younger siblings and eat a particularly sweet piece of fruit, but almost every day was underwhelmingly the same.

But she was fine with that. She didn't crave adventure anymore. Instead, she loved the stability that her life brought her. She always knew what to expect, so she was never disappointed. She wished that everyone could be as content as her.


Reese Obilaso, 17
District 11

In one of Panem's largest and poorest Districts, Reese Oblisao was glad that he was part of a family that knew how to hustle. Everyone knew the basic troubles that citizens of 11 faced. Big families were common so every house had too many mouths to feed, and kids had their names in the Reaping bowls dozens of times over by the time they were 18. The grain that came with the tessera was always littered with bugs and rocks that needed to be sifted out, and the oil would be days from going rancid.

But what the other Districts couldn't tell from the panoramic shot of District 11's Square every year at the Reaping ceremony was that one of the leading causes of death even now a century after the war was the venom of tracker jackers: genetically engineered super-wasps that patrolled the orchards day in and day out.

The stings had an easy remedy, but you had to act quickly. The leaves of calendula flowers, more commonly known as marigolds, could be pulverized with water to form a paste that could draw out the venom. A handful of families in the District grew their own, but not everyone had the time or resources. But the Obilaso family had spent years and spanned several generations to make their garden grow as plentiful as possible.

Reese definitely had to work in the orchards. Almost everyone did. But when he wasn't doing that, he would walk to the District Square with his grandfather Alder, basket in hand, and sell the lopsided, oblong leaves to everyone who needed them and could afford them.

One particularly sweltering Sunday, Reese looked up between customers to find an attractive girl with tight black ringlets and shining bronze skin, standing near a young man selling flowerpots. All signs pointed to her discomfort, from her arms crossed over her chest to her eyes fixed on the ground. Reese glanced over at Alder, who furrowed his brow and nodded, so Reese made his way over to the two of them.

"Why don't you leave her alone, man?" Reese asked the boy. The boy looked sheepish, but packed up his stand and moved to the other side of the Square.

"Thanks," the girl said, meeting his eye and flashing a winning smile. It was only then that Reese recognized her as Polly Namura, the youngest of the Mayor's five daughters. "I really appreciate it."

"Of course," he said, suddenly aware that there was no room for error. "Let me know if he bothers you again, okay?"

"I will. But I might feel a little safer if you stayed with me for a little bit. You know, just to make sure he doesn't come back?"

Before he knew it, Reese was in Polly's house, then her room, her bed, and out her window with half of his clothes following him in a rumpled ball.

"What was that?" Reese heard the Mayor's voice from the open window.

"Nothing, Daddy," Polly's voice said. "I was just having a nightmare. You can go back to sleep."

It was dangerous. It was thrilling. It filled Reese with the adrenaline he had been craving his whole life without realizing it. He had only ever been with one other girl before (hell, he wasn't even sure he liked women), and Polly had never been with a guy. But they continued to see each other in secret. It was crazy and fun, and Reese loved feeling like he could never be caught.

Polly understood when Reese told her that he didn't want to continue their relationship (if you could call it that) anymore, since he realized that he was, in fact, gay. But that did make it all the more unfortunate when her missed period turned to vomiting. She and Reese went to see an old medicine man who worked on the black market and he confirmed their worst fear. She was pregnant.

The teenagers made the rather easy decision that Polly shouldn't keep the child, so the man gave her a bottle of pills and sent them on their way. They should have been in the clear, but a nosy housekeeper informed her mother of her blood stained sheets, and her mother found the pills and told her father. The damage was done and the pregnancy was ended, but Mayor Namura needed someone to punish, and it certainly wouldn't be his daughter.

Reese was, to put it delicately, shitting himself. District 11's Peacekeepers were the strictest in Panem, and Mayor Namura was the one behind it all. There were few things in the world that Reese wanted than to be the target of the Mayor.

Luckily for Reese, the Mayor didn't suspect him, not in the slightest. Rather, his mind went to a different young man, one who had been admiring his daughter from afar for months. One who had stood just a bit too close to her when he was selling flowerpots, and who touched her arm with just a bit too much confidence.

The boy's name was Durian Crabtree, which Reese learned while he was chained up in the Square, on the same block where he sold his ceramics. The Head Peacekeeper, Quintus Clement, was whipping him mercilessly, not just on his back like most, but across his face and chest. Before long, the boy was reduced to a bloody, whimpering pile of meat and was left for dead. Someone took him home and they must have done a pretty good job of cleaning him up, because he was back in the Square within days. But the scars on his face lasted forever, and Reese could tell by his milky, unfocused eyes that Durian was now blind.

"He asked for it," Alder said, disapprovingly. "What kind of fucking idiot runs off with the Mayor's daughter and gets her pregnant?"

Reese didn't say anything.

Just a few weeks later, the weather turned and District 11 returned to the orchards to work the harvest. Reese cleared six feet, so he was one of the workers who stood on the elevated platforms to reach the peaches from the highest tree branches. But on one particularly dark night, his platform got stuck in the air. What was worse, he didn't notice until everyone had left the orchard.

He tried in vain for upwards of an hour to make the platform go down. He shouted for help. He thought about trying to shimmy down the pole. He thought about taking off all of his clothes, tying them together, and turning them into a rope he could repel down. It wouldn't work. He knew it wouldn't work.

He jumped.

Immediately, Reese screamed out in pain. He crumpled to the ground, ankles searing in white hot pain from the decision to jump off the platform. He should have just stayed the night. It would have been a long and uncomfortable night, and he would have been hungry, but he also wouldn't have two broken ankles. He tried his best to stand up and walk home, knowing that the rabid coyotes and mountain lions that wandered the orchards at night would mean certain death, but he couldn't so much as stand, let alone walk. So he laid on the ground sobbing uncontrollably, hoping and praying for someone, anyone, to help him.

"Hello?" a male voice called. "Is someone there?"

"Yes!" Reese sat up as best as he could. "I'm over here!"

"Where…" he trailed off. "I can't quite see…"

It was dark and the outside lights were off since the orchard was closed. "I'm over here. Just follow the sound of my voice, okay? I was on the lift and it got stuck so I had to jump. I can't walk, please help me."

Within seconds, a boy ran into Reese- literally almost tripped over him.

"Watch it!" he snapped. He immediately regretted his words. Not only did he wish he hadn't yelled at the person saving him, but he realized that he couldn't "watch" anything. His savior was Durian Crabtree, the same teenager who had lost his sight to Peacekeepers just weeks before. Because of him. "I'm sorry."

"My house is really close by," Durian said, ignoring the outburst. "If you can keep me from tripping on the road, I can help you get there."

The two went together to the Crabtree household, a small, rundown shack just minutes from the orchard. Durian was Reese's legs, and Reese was Durian's eyes. There was no way Reese was going to tell Durian that it was his fault that he was blind, but he needed to acknowledge the elephant in the room.

"I'm really sorry. You know, about the Peacekeepers."

"I didn't do it," Durian said, already starting to cry. "Honestly, I didn't-"

"I believe you. Thank you for bringing me here. I… I'll pay you back someday, okay?"


Atticus Fennell, 25
Victor of the 92nd Hunger Games: District 11

Atticus Fennell hated feeling like a sellout. But what else was he supposed to do? As a kid and a teenager, Atticus was known as one of the best street performers in District 11. He sang and danced day in and day out in the District Square, and his community was genuinely distraught when he was Reaped. But for how upset they were when he was sent to his death, they were even happier when he returned victorious. After all, who expected the scrawny street performer to survive a death match?

When all was said and done, Atticus was really proud of how he won. After his name was called, he had resigned himself to death because he did not want to compromise on his morals. Somehow, the Capitolites found his singing to himself in the arena entertaining, and he was never directly killed by Gamemakers. He had his share of run ins with mutts, natural disasters, and even other tributes, but he was always able to get away by the skin of his teeth and not hurt anyone in the process.

He was shocked when he made it to the finale. When the girl from District 6 tackled him and strangled him, he thought it was over for him. But his lungs were strong, and he used his last rush of adrenaline to shove the girl off of him. Through no fault of his own, she stumbled backwards and fell off of a cliff and into the lake and drowned.

So when Hunger Games season rolled around, Mirabelle usually did the majority of the mentoring, and Atticus acted more as her personal assistant. This year, he could tell she was going to need it.

The first person up to the stage was Clementina Romanesco, an 18-year-old girl in a tattered gray dress. She looked more angry than sad, but Atticus couldn't tell if it was just a mask.

When the boy was Reaped, though, the energy of the entire Square changed. The name called was Durian Crabtree, and Atticus recognized him as the boy who had been whipped a few months prior after a scandal with the Mayor's daughter. A hush fell over the crowd and after a pregnant pause, there was a volunteer. The tribute introduced himself as Reese Obliaso, and when asked why he volunteered, he simply shrugged.

It seemed like this year was going to be incredibly uncertain, but one thing was for sure; they were going to have their work cut out for them.


Thanks to x. I Got You First .x for Clementina and Mags2000 for Reese!

1. Who did you like better, Clementina or Reese?

2. What did you like about them?

3. What didn't you like about them?

4. Thoughts on Atticus?

5. Any predictions?