Mako Devlin, District 4

"We're just a million little gods causing rainstorms,

Turning every good thing to rust."

Arcade Fire, Wake Up

The Sponsor

As soon as the man watched the Four Reaping, he knew where his money was going.

Not to the hulking monster from Two, or the heartthrob from One, or even the stunningly beautiful girl from the fishing district. No, he saw her district partner the second he volunteered, and he knew that this boy would win the Games.

For one, he was huge. The boy from Two was a giant, but that was nothing new. His fisher counterpart stood at an impressive 6 foot 3, just under 250 pounds at 18 years old. His body was covered in scars, from a nasty one over his left eye to the brutal cuts all down his arms. In the parade, he wasted no time removing his shirt to show the world the battlefield that was his back, and the whole of the Capitol fell in love with it. The man leaned forward in his prime box as the chariots rolled past and began to think.

The Mentor

Caspian had known the boy since he was barely ten, when he first joined the Academy. That was the year of Amethyst Goldwyn, and one of Caspian's few consolations was that the boy, already taller than several boys five years older than him, was almost a guarantee for Victor.

He didn't know where the scars came from, and he didn't ask. The boy spoke rarely, but after the disaster that was Neptune Guevara, Caspian would take what he could get, and from what he could tell, the Capitol agreed. After the interviews, a massive sum of sponsor money showed up from an anonymous account. Caspian didn't know who sent it in, but he was grateful. Anything was better than another Neptune.

The alliance was strong that year, but the outliers pulled out their own showing. The boy from Ten had volunteered, for no other reason than why not. He was small, but Caspian didn't trust him. The girl from Six had a sly look about her, one that Mags' girl quickly identified, but the boy simply stayed quiet. The boy from Twelve, however, was the biggest concern, simply because he, along with the boy from Two, was the only tribute in the Arena who looked like he could match Caspian's boy in size, as well as in a fight. As the team watched the Reapings, the two men shared a look that communicated everything: target him first.

The Interviewer

Tiberius Blake was getting too old for this job. He didn't quite have the stage presence he had in the joyous days of Beatrix and Amethyst. However, the Capitol still screamed his name everywhere he went, loved his outfits, and he still managed to keep a grand show twice a year bookending the Games. However, it was tributes like this year's Four boy that made him think retirement was imminent.

Poor Tiberius fired question after question at the boy, everything from the alliance to his scars to the ten he pulled in training. No response. The timer rang and Tiberius whispered a silent thanks to the gods that it was over.

But not even Tiberius could deny that the boy was indeed memorable.

The Ally

The boys from Two and Four were quick to make a pact. Not only were they the two most intimidating tributes by a mile, but there was something almost akin to camaraderie about standing a head above everyone else in the alliance. The Two boy, unironically named Colossus, had a certain respect for his gargantuan ally. He wasn't loud or showy like that idiot from One. He didn't try to play up sponsors like his partner. Even Colossus' own partner quickly took control of the alliance, something he had no problem with, but when it came to choosing an ally, he always knew he trusted the Four boy.

In the bloodbath, they were the first two tributes to the weapons pile, with Colossus taking a massive battle axe and his ally a curved machete. Both had sent bodies to the ground within sixty seconds of Games.

After a few minutes, Colossus saw the huge boy from Twelve sprinting away from the Cornucopia. The boy knew an opportunity when he saw one, and sprinted over to the giant and tackled him to the ground. What happened in the next few seconds, no one knew, but Colossus suddenly found himself on the ground, Twelve's knife to his throat.

Colossus closed his eyes and had just finished his final prayers when he felt a heavy weight on his chest. He opened his eyes to see the boy from Four standing over him, and the boy just seconds away from ending his life unconscious on his chest. Colossus jumped to his feet, grabbed his axe, and even had the blade in the air before the boy from Twelve jumped to his feet and sprinted off into the jungle. Four made to follow him, but Colossus grabbed his arm.

"He's not worth it. We'll get him later."

The boy nodded. "Got it. And not a word about-"

"Yeah, yeah, I know," Colossus said with a grin. "We don't have to talk about it."

The Lover

The bloodbath killed eleven people. The volunteer from Ten was one of them. The Games were shaping up to be among the more exciting, but the split came early, earlier than anyone expected.

There was chemistry between the Four tributes from the start. The girl, Coral, had beauty rivaling the best of One, and while the boy from the luxury district rebuffed her efforts, and she knew better than to go after the giant from Two, her own giant maybe had a chance. All it took was a few gentle fingers on his scars and a couple of whispered promises in his ear and she was his.

When the split came, all those promises went out the window when she, her knife inches from his throat, forgot exactly how strong he was.

The Leader

The girl from Two, Othella, never liked the boy from Four. He was too tall, too intimidating, too good a friend with her partner, simply too much of a presence for her comfort. When the split came, she saw him snap his district partner's neck with his bare hands and she knew she had a fight coming. She motioned to the Ones and they jumped to their feet, swords at the ready. The boy moved first, a mistake. Colossus caught him by the neck and quite literally squeezed the life out of him. While he was busy, his ally turned to Othella.

"May the best fighter win?" he said with a small smile. She scowled.

"You're a district traitor. I'm going to enjoy this."

The only part she enjoyed was when death finally claimed her from what felt like every bone in her body shattered.

The Survivor

When Velvet, the girl from One, saw Othella's body shatter on the ground, she knew she'd lost. She threw her sword to the ground and backed up.

"There's still half a dozen outliers left," she said, a true statement. "We'd be better fighting it out once the strong ones are dead."

She held her breath as the two giants exchanged a glance. Eventually, Colossus turned back to her.

"We see you again, and we'll kill you. Clear?"

Velvet didn't need to be told twice.

The Brainiac

The girl from Six was named Lexi. She died on day Six, her knife in the throat of the massive boy from Two. Even the best Capitolite surgeons probably wouldn't be able to do anything about what they could salvage of her own throat.

The Rival

The boy from Twelve was named Zac. It was a simple name for a simple man. Zac was a wrestler, and one of the best in the District. When he was reaped, he knew he could win. After the bloodbath, his faith was shaken a little, but when night fell on day 10, he stumbled upon the sleeping girl from One.

She never woke up.

When the death recap played the next day and he saw the face of the last other outlier, the boy from Five, he realized the truth. He was in the final two. He was so close.

He arrived at the Cornucopia clearing that night only to see his huge final opponent waiting for him. The boy jumped down from the huge golden horn, and Zac was surprised to see he was unarmed.

"Just us, then, isn't it?" the boy asked. Zac nodded.

"I guess it is. No weapons?"

He shook his head. "You're a big man. What do you say we do this like real men?"

Zac nodded his approval, tossing his sword aside. "I'm game. And for what it's worth, I hope your people remember you. Most people where I come from don't like people like you. Careers, I mean. But you're not like them. Good luck to you."

The boy nodded. "The same to you. May the best man win."

What followed is what many Games enthusiasts describe today as the most brutal and thrilling finale in seventy-five years of Games. Two men, no weapons, everything on the line, nothing held back.

After a solid five minutes of punching and brawling, Zac saw his opening and slammed his foot down on the boy's lower leg. A sickening crack and a scream of pain told him his mission had been accomplished. The boy rolled away, and Zac, already out of breath, decided to give him a minute. He saw the boy reach for his sword and for a second thought he was breaking their terms. But he didn't turn the sword on his opponent.

The sword flashed, the boy screamed in agony, and Zac barely registered the severed left leg before the mutilated Career launched himself at Zac with a scream of fury. Zac, caught off guard, never stood a chance.

The blows just kept raining down. Eventually he didn't even feel it. He simply sat back and waited for death to take him and the trumpets to ring.

The Gamemaker

Well, he's not Neptune, Matrion thought derisively. That was a win in his book.

The Backup

Caspian had wanted to send the boy in a year early. He was a guaranteed win, the Victor had argued. But Mags said no. Nothing was guaranteed in the Games, and if Four wanted a real chance they should save him and send him in at 18. As it turned out, Mags was right, for once. She had no intention of ever letting Caspian forget about that one.

The Victor

Mako stepped off the stage after his interview with Tiberius, nursing a small headache, though that might have been attributed to the large amount of painkillers coursing through his system after the surgery on his leg. He didn't like interviews.

As he walked backstage, Caspian hurried up to him.

"Mako, there's someone here to meet you," his mentor said.

Privately, Mako groaned. Someone always wanted to talk to him now. All he wanted was a little peace and quiet. But that wouldn't do, not in the presence of the great Caspian Moreland, so Mako put on a fake smile and nodded.

"Of course, tell him I'm very excited."

"He's actually just here," Caspian said, showing Mako through the door. Inside Mako found a tall, golden-haired man about Mags' age. He quickly jumped to his feet to shake the newest Victor's hand.

"It's an honor to meet you, Mako," he said. "I've been following you quite closely this year."

Mako nodded, unsure of how to respond. Thankfully, Caspian stepped in to save him.

"This man made a very large sponsor donation to you after the interviews. It was him who paid for that body armor that saved your life against the girl from Six, remember?"

Mako raised his eyebrows. "I'm very grateful, sir. Thank you very much."

"Oh, it was nothing," the man said jovially. "Simply a token for what I knew would be Four's newest Victor."

Mako smiled. "Thank you very much. Ah, what did you say your name was?"

The man smiled. "I am called Snow. Coriolanus Snow."

"Well, it's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Snow," Mako said with another false smile.

"Oh, please. Call me Coryo."

I love name-dropping. It's so fun.

Next up, the Quell!