Chapter 29: Laurel Flamsteel
A/N: Here we go, District Nine again! This time it's Laurel who makes it out alive! Remember when Peeta said the arena could be a giant cake? Well, yeah, I kinda took that a tad too seriously... Hope you enjoy this and pls review! Cheers:)
Katniss sighed, a whim of melancholy clouding over her. "I honestly thought she was just another one of those morphling addicts."
Peeta shook his head. "She was just faking it, according to Haymitch. In reality, she had never even gone nears drugs before."
"She doesn't look like much," Katniss noted. "Only one kill, huh?"
"That's already one kill too many," Peeta murmured, the memory of him killing that crying girl from Eight, the tall Victor from Nine and Brutus flooding back into his mind.
"I wonder how she won," Katniss mused.
"Her arena was a giant cake," Peeta said.
Katniss stared at him, a stern look in her eyes. "Peeta, we've talked about this-"
"I'm serious," Peeta laughed. "I wasn't kidding when I said the arena could be a giant cake. And she was like me, a baker who designed cakes."
Katniss shook her head, bewildered. There was certainly more to Laurel than what met the eye.
Laurel Flamsteel
District 9
Aged 16
1 Kill
Life in District Nine was tough, brutal, unbearable. Unless you were a merchant. Laurel's family owned a bakery, just like Peeta's family did in Twelve, and by the time she was ten, Laurel was already entrusted with designing the cakes that those peacekeepers and the richer merchants and landowners sometimes bought. She had a delicate, perfectionist touch, her father would often tell her. "It's a rare gift." Laurel never really thought much about it. Baking cakes wasn't the most useful skill in Panem. Wielding sickles was a better asset, especially if she ever got Reaped into the Hunger Games, a touchy subject her family forbade her from ever talking about. But just in case, Laurel sometimes spent her free time at her friends' farms, learning thor to use a sickle. It turned out, that blasted thing was heavier than it looked. Laurel, being a cake decorator and all, never had much muscle. She could barely even lift that sickle off the ground! It wouldn't be until she turned fifteen that she finally managed to somewhat master the sickle, thinking that in the arena, it would be far more useful than any of her family's baking and cake decorating skills. Oh, how wrong she would be...
The Reaping was as dreary as usual. By then, District Nine had realised they couldn't merely rely on their skills with the sickle or scythe and had to come up with far better tactics if they were to stand a chance of winning the Games. The only Victor they had was Gwen, widely considered to be one of the weakest Victors. The closest they'd come since was Kiwicha, but she was a psycho and got killed by that superstar racecar driver from Six. Even Gwen was starting to think she would remain Nine's sole representative in the Victors' Circle for generations to come. Laurel herself had barely any hope anyone from their impoverished District could ever wear the crown again, unless the odds were truly in their favour. Being a merchant, she had something most girls in Nine couldn't afford: a Reaping dress, and a beautiful one too, a bright red dress with a pink bow. Shame the girl who wore it wasn't beautiful. She stood amongst her fellow girls from Nine, an anomaly amongst the poor farmers and orphans. In her year, only twenty other girls could afford a Reaping dress, and only seven could afford one of her quality. It was a shame. Laurel thought they would look beautiful if they had dresses. Maybe that might give them more of a chance in the Games. But no, only District One girls get to look pretty. Nine will forever be just another down-in-the-dumps, ugly, miserable District full of down-in-the-dumps, ugly miserable children. Laurel had to resist a snort as the escort, dressed as some sort of bunny complete with body altercations such as bunny ears and bunny teeth, walked up the stage, all excited and happier than a lark. Her name had been lost in time, forgotten by the people of Nine, due to its utter irrelevance. In Nine, the only name that brought much significance was Gwendolyn Whitfield, for very obvious reasons. Sure, she was a pretty weak Victor, who even now, still battled anorexia and refused to eat much for the sake of looking beautiful, but she was also a symbol of hope. That even their weakest had a good shot of not getting their head lobbed off in the Bloodbath. That even after being forced to watch so many innocent little children die gruesome deaths at the hands of those inhumane Careers and Gamemakers, they could still win. For Laurel and many of the other kids, that was more hope than they'd ever gotten. But then again, that hope was so small, it had slowly diminished over the years. The Treaty of Treason, the stupid thing that had gotten them into this mess in the first place, was played over two large screens as Laurel fixed her gaze on the soil below, trying to block out President Snow's awfully annoying voice. Gosh, she just wanted it all to end! Alas, Snow had made sure to speak as slowly as he could, his wide smirk unmistakeable. He knew every word of that accursed treaty struck bolts into the hearts of the District people, well except for those from Districts One and Two, of course. That sneaky snake bitch wanted to put them in as much emotional turmoil as he could. Finally, it ended and it was time for the Reaping. Laurel sighed, crossing her fingers it wasn't her. After all, with only five slips in the bowl, it couldn't possibly be her, right? She was wrong. "Laurel Flamsteel!" Shit. She stood there for a second, her mouth gaping wide, staring blankly ahead as the other girls parted, making way for her. No, how the heck could it be her? It couldn't be, there had to be a mistake! A peacekeeper prodded her back and she slowly forced her legs to move up the stage, her stunned expression unfaltering. This couldn't be, could it? It could just be another horrible nightmare. Except when she pinched herself, this time, she didn't wake up. She stood next to the escort, her entire body shivering from fright as she spied her parents in the audience. They were screaming, crying, shouting her name. All too soon, Laurel could feel the tears flowing like a gentle, melancholic river down her face too. Certain death awaited her.
"You're not going to die, Laurel," Gwen muttered softly, calmly strolling into her room. Once they had all boarded the train, Laurel had run straight into the room, slamming the door shut and screaming for everyone to get lost. It seemed pretty extreme, but what was stopping her from mourning her own death? It wasn't as though she was hungry and needed to be in the dining car to eat. Laurel didn't respond to Gwen. She was too busy drawing something, she didn't know what, on a piece of paper as the tears of assured death continued to break her apart. Gwen sat next to her and laid a hand on her shoulder. "Laurel, I'm going to save you. I promise."
Laurel finally brought herself to look into Gwen's calm, soothing eyes. "Isn't that what you say to every tribute? But how many kids have you saved?" She glared into Gwen's flinching eyes. "Zero."
Gwen opened her mouth and closed it, almost like a fish, as she seemed to try to comprehend what to say. Laurel shrank back into herself, regretting her choice of words. She hadn't meant it, really. Getting a Nine over the line was easier said than done, she was sure of it. It wasn't Gwen's fault she was always given a pretty weak selection of tributes who were almost always up against a grand selection of tributes. "Laurel," Gwen whispered softly, her voice trembling. "This time, I promise for real."
Laurel narrowed her eyes. "Why me? What about Einkorn? He seems stronger."
Gwen sighed deeply, blinking back tears. "He's given up. Told me to back off and let him die in the Bloodbath. When I said no he got violent. That's why you're my only hope, Laurel."
You're my only hope. The four words Laurel had never imagined she would ever hear. Gosh, it felt good. Most of the time it was Gwen who was the District's only hope. But now, it was on her. "What do I need to do? To win the Games, I mean."
Gwen's eyes brightened. A wide grin spread across her wizened face. "So you'll do your best?"
Laurel gritted her teeth. As much as dying in the Bloodbath would be far more appealing than being slowly tortured to death by the Careers, she couldn't say no to Gwen. Besides, her parents had told her to try. So try she would. "Yeah. I'll try to get home."
Gwen nodded approvingly, her eyes twinkling. "Then let's start with the Reapings. You'll want to know who you can trust."
She grabbed a remote on a desk, one Laurel hadn't even realised was there, and with the push of a red button, turned the TV on. The Capitol seal appeared on the screen, followed by Neptune Bellmark, wearing his usual funny smile. "Good evening, Panem!" he announced. "Now for the moment you've all been waiting for, the Reapings for the 29th annual Hunger Games!" Neptune's face disappeared from the screen and was replaced with the symbol of District One. Laurel winced when she saw two snooty, powerful nobles volunteer. Those nobles never won, unless they were against the system or had at least some common sense like Franc did, but that didn't mean they couldn't have extremely high kill rates. For all Lauren knew, they might be the ones to slowly drain the life out of her in the most painful ways imaginable. Their names were Spinel and Lapis, not exactly the finest of names in Laurel's opinion, but when her own father's name was Wheatley, was that really something to complain about? She winced even more when the Twos volunteered. This time, unlike Hercules last year, they didn't have ADHD and didn't take a full five seconds of awkward silence before volunteering. Otrera and Theseus were just like Hercules, Freya and all the other Career brutes, large, muscular, downright scary.
"Stay as far away from them as possible," Gwen advised. Laurel couldn't beg to differ. Poking the Careers never did any good. The memory of what happened to Lymit in Scipio's Games was still fresh. Though only a toddler then, Gwen could very vividly remember that horrific murder that seemed to haunt even Scipio. Served him right. He was a twelve-year-old with mental disabilities, the tribute least deserving of such a gruesome fate. It was the primary reason why Scipio was so hated amongst the Districts. It had taken him eighteen long years to develop a heart, something most developed at birth.
The Threes were up next. They had better luck than Nine. At least their tributes were smart and could rearm mines and craft clever electronic traps. Nikola and Gadget were prime examples of that. Nonetheless, they were still poor and even more polluted than Nine. Nine barely had much pollution, considering most of the vast District once known as Kansas centuries ago was made up of large grain fields and grain silos. But Three looked absolutely drowned in air pollution. It was sad. So much potential, yet so little benefits reaped. A girl around Laurel's height was reaped. She looked frightened, just like Laurel had been. Her most distinctive feature was that unlike two-thirds of Three's population, she was not bespectacled. Her name was Diode, not a bad name compared to some of the District One names. Awesome, Terrific, really? They were a puzzling sort. Diode fidgeted a lot on stage, but what caught Laurel's attention was her profession. A baker. Just like Laurel. Laurel's eyes widened as Diode said this. "I want her as an ally," she said quickly. Gwen stared at the screen, scrutinizing Diode carefully. She nodded, although her eyes were cautious. Laurel didn't care. She watched as Erlang, a small bespectacled boy with freckles all across his face climbed nervously onto the stage as his parents desperately searched for volunteers. But they knew there was no saving Erlang.
The rest of the Reapings went off without a hitch, most of the tributes proving to be relatively average. Laurel had to look away when she was reaped. Not the best impression to make. Even Neptune barely tried to hype her up, only saying, "She's pretty well-to-do for a Nine. And she should know how to wield a sickle. The second coming of Gwen, maybe?" By the time the Reapings ended Laurel was back in her endless fit of sobs. Seeing all those tributes, looking into their eyes and knowing all their names, how on earth could she possibly bring herself to kill them? It was impossible, she was going to die a laughable joke of a tribute! No one would sponsor her, not when they could instead sponsor the Careers!
Gwen gave her a hug, muttering, "Deep breaths, Laurel. Try not to think about it." But it was no use. Laurel knew she was beyond help. District Nine would have to wait another year for a shot at a second Victor.
Laurel's teeth chattered as her launch pad went up, a bright light shining above her like a death star, a gateway to heaven. Despite her new alliance with Diode, their scores of two each hadn't filled with either with much comfort. The arena was coming into view now. Laurel took her first glimpses of the arena and what she saw made her look twice, pinching herself and blinking rapidly to ensure this wasn't some sort of weird dream. As she looked around, she could see the other tributes were doing the same. The boy from Eight was so sure it was just a figment of his imagination and decided to have some fun by taking a swan dive off his pedestal. He realised far too late that it wasn't and Laurel gasped as his mangled remains were blasted across the large cake. Yes, the arena was a gigantic, freaking ten-layered cake that seemed to be floating in mid-air, as jumping off the cake meant jumping into an eternal yellow abyss. The entire arena was coated in white frosting covered with multicoloured sprinkles and cake decorations such as gingerbread houses and candy rocks. It looked straight out of Laurel's bakery, like something she herself had designed. She locked eyes with Diode, whose jaw was wide open in shock. Could this somehow be a chance for them to win? Laurel dared to hope. The gong rang and she dashed into the Cornucopia, grabbing a quick backpack before bolting in the opposite direction. No way she was going to risk being a Bloodbath tribute. As she ran, a knife sailed over her head, and to her horror, struck Einkorn, who was rooted on his podium, eagerly awaiting his untimely yet inevitable demise. Laurel screamed as blood oozed from his chest. Not far away, Spinel had plunged her knife into the boy from Five's chest and Otrera wasn't too far away, calmly slashing and carving out the girl from Twelve's guts as she died in horrific pain. Laurel felt her own guts churn. Her feet slowed to a near halt as her mind tried to process what had happened right before her eyes. She tried to scream again, this time, louder, but someone grabbed her hand and dragged her along. Diode. "Come on!" she shouted, blinking back tears as she glanced back, only to see Erlang being chopped to bits by Theseus. Laurel didn't resist. She continued running, her feet slipping once or twice due to the slippery frosting surface. Gosh, did they really have to make them wear snowshoes? She could barely run properly in those weirdly-shaped shoe-thingies! Laurel and Diode hopped down a layer of cake, only to find themselves facing a dark forest of chocolate shavings. Laurel groaned, realising what it was. A black forest. A very popular cake amongst merchants in Nine. But to see it as a literal black forest, it felt different, wrong, dementing. Behind her, she could hear faint footsteps and a boy yelling for them to head over to the second tier.
"In there!" Laurel hissed, pointing towards the forest. Diode nodded, rushing in after her. Inside, it was as dark and gloomy as ever, but as the footsteps began to die down, Laurel brought herself to heave a humongous sigh of relief. Somehow, by some heavenly miracle, she had survived the Bloodbath and was still alive and kicking. Then again, a lot of kids from Nine do. Problem was, making it all the way was easier said than done. She fished out the contents of her backpack, trying to find water. Food wouldn't be a problem. The entire arena was edible! Water, though, was a huge question mark. Thankfully, it was there, in the pack, along with a knife and some chocolate paste. Not the best assortment of tools, Laurel would have very much wanted some rope to build a trap, but she took what she could. Diode had only managed to grab a smaller pack with only a smaller bottle of water and even more chocolate paste, which seemed awfully useless given the circumstances. Oh well.
"What do we do now?" Diode asked, her voice quiet and afraid.
Laurel considered their supplies. Then she looked back at the tall chocolate shavings, each easily as bag as one of them. Suddenly an idea sprang into her mind. "We camouflage."
Diode frowned. "Into what?"
Laurel gave her a cheeky grin. "Into these chocolate shavings, of course!"
It took them a while, and a ton of hard work. They had to be extra careful to cover every single square inch of their bodies and all their supplies in order for the camouflage to work properly. The chocolate spread wasn't unlimited, either. They had to use it wisely, being careful not to waste too much of it. Once or twice Laurel would hear a faint rustle and her nervousness would kick in, causing her to drop her brush, splattering some chocolate on the white frosting ground below. She couldn't just leave the blatantly obvious dark brown spot of chocolate there, someone could easily spot it and that would almost surely arouse some suspicion so she had immediately poured some of the frosting on the ground over it, covering the mess up for good. Once they were done, though, Laurel looked in front of her and nearly gasped aloud when she realised Diode had disappeared into the forest. "Diode?"
"I'm right here!" one of the chocolate shavings said.
Laurel chuckled. "Oh, there you are. I thought I'd lost you."
"Doesn't that mean the camouflage is good?" Diode said.
"Yeah. I guess so," Laurel replied, loosening her grip on the knife in her hand slightly. That had been the agreement, Diode would hold the bags of supplies while Laurel would hold the knife. That meant that should anyone come by, Laurel realised with a sickening feeling in her guts and a big gulp, she would have to make the kill. That was something that filled Laurel's mind with dread at the mere thought of it. Please leave us alone, she silently begged the other tributes. Sadly, they failed to listen.
Laurel woke to the sound of footsteps on the third day, quietly but definitely approaching in their direction. Both she and Diode and slept standing up before, so they were fine with it. That also meant they wouldn't have to get up and adjust their camouflages when a tribute, or worse, those damn bloody Careers, who had shed the blood of twelve innocent tributes already, drew near. Because that was exactly what was happening there and then. As the tribute came into view, Laurel realised that it was the boy from Four, Thomas. He was eighteen, relatively strong and pretty moody at times. She held her breath as he drew near, grunting in frustration. At first, Laurel couldn't quite understand why. Then she looked at his leg and realised that it was poorly bandaged. In the distance, two cannons boomed. Thomas snorted. "About time they died. Bastard nobles." The Ones were dead! Laurel realised, her eyes widening slightly. Spinel and Lapis were gone for good! She felt a little bad celebrating their death, but she was just one step closer to victory. Now, if only this Thomas boy would just head off in another direction. He didn't. Instead, to Laurel's horror, he stabbed his sword into one of the chocolate shavings in irritation. The chocolate shaving let out a choked gasp. Thomas backed away, yelping as blood spewed out of Diode's dying body. Laurel screamed at the top of her lungs, lunging straight at Thomas with her knife and stabbing him over and over again, releasing all her anger at his moodiness at him. She didn't care he was screaming. She didn't care he was trying to apologise. She didn't care about his life. Diode was dead. For no reason at all except that Thomas got a little mad at his situation. It wasn't on purpose, but murder was murder.
"A life for a life," she hissed as she stabbed his mouth to stop him from screaming. The cannon boomed and Laurel had to take a step back to catch her breath. When she saw what she'd done, she dropped the knife and ran off with the first backpack she could find, tears streaming down her cheeks like a leaky tap. The reality kicked in. Murderer. The label that would follow her around for the rest of her life. Even Gwen was considered a murderer by some of the people in District Nine. And now, Laurel would join the long line of tributes who so savagely ended a fellow young, frightened child's life. Laurel was yet another brutal, barbaric savage killer. It didn't matter that she had far fewer kills than trained cold-hearted murderers like Draco and Freya. It was all the same. Murder was murder. And she had done it so savagely, so willingly. The thoughts didn't even leave her head when the army of mutts began chasing after her. Until she realised what she was running from.
Gingerbread mutts? She had to stop for a hot second, just to make sure she wasn't hallucinating. But they were there, an army of human-sized gingerbread men chasing after her, scowling and gnashing their nonexistent teeth. Their cartoonish appearance was deeply unsettling and Laurel almost laughed had Thomas and Diode's deaths not just occurred a few minutes ago. She ran faster, trampling over something mushy on the way. Leaping over the edge of a tier, she raced across a swamp. Wait, a swamp? She looked down and realised she was ankle-deep in a swamp of chocolate fudge. The gingerbread men were nearing, waving their stumpy hands around. Suddenly, it dawned on her. These were freaking gingerbread men without any sharp body parts! Why the heck was she even running from them? She raised an eyebrow at them, frowning. "You're kidding me, right?" The mutts stopped, confused by her long pause. A nervous smile spread across her face as she charged to meet them, mouth wide open before jumping on top of the largest gingerbread mutt and chomping it head off with her teeth. She chewed it quickly, swallowing it like normal. It tasted absolutely delicious, like the ones she baked at the bakery in District Nine. In her home. Home. Laurel could feel her stomach twisting just by thinking of it. She shook her head, willing herself to focus once more. By then, the other mutts were slowly beginning to realise their hopeless situation and stood at attention, saluting her as they nervously awaited their verdict. Laurel stared at them. They were just standing there as if they were awaiting some sort of orders from some military commander or something. Something else dawned on her. She cast the mutts an uneasy grin. "So, do you guys want to play a game?"
Laurel gazed across the Cornucopia clearing. Otrera and Theseus stared at her, brandishing their swords and spears, grinning wildly at her. "Well, well, well," Theseus chuckled, his eyes glinting with anticipation. "Looks like Baker Girl has finally given up."
Laurel wanted to retort, but she played the frightened, suicidal little girl part well. "Just, please," she whimpered softly. "Kill me quickly."
Otrera smirked. "You think we'd really make it quick? Ha, foolish girl. We're going to skin you alive!" Theseus and Otrera roared in laughter, clanging their metal weaponry in a noisy cacophony. They approached her, grinning broadly.
When they were less than five metres away and ready to make the first strike, Laurel yelled, "Charge!" In the blink of an eye, the horde of gingerbread men mutts swarmed Otrera and Theseus, who were flailing wildly and yelping in agony as the mutts beat them to a pulp. Laurel squeezed her eyes shut, trying to drown out their screams. Their wails of agony, their screams of pain. They deserved it, right? For all they had done, they should deserve such a death, right? But she couldn't even bring herself to think that way. Not when once she opened her eyes, she was welcomed by the sight of Otrera and Theseus's torn-up corpses. The cannons boomed. Laurel's lips quavered as the gingerbread men mutts swivelled on their heels and gave her a salute. They were ready to do anything she commanded. If she told them to run around in circles on a burning patch of flame, they would do it. She had discovered their edible, dark secret, and they revered her for it. "Uhh," she stammered. "Kill the other tributes, I guess?" Her stomach continued to churn as she said it, but what choice did she have? She had to get out alive, and besides, she technically wasn't the one killing the kids, was she? The gingerbread men mutts stomped their feet and marched off, Laurel standing warily in the middle of their horde, nervously fumbling her shirt and wringing her wrists. As they walked, Laurel could hear a faint chime in the distance. Fearing it was some sort of mutt or trap, she turned her head sharply. It wasn't a mutt, thankfully, but rather a parachute. Oh, she should have known! That chime, it had become second nature to her over the years, a symbol of approval fro the Capitol citizens. She smiled gratefully as she plucked it from mid-air. Opening it, she gasped when she caught sight of the sickle, engraved with a large '9'. They were on her side! "Thank you," she told the cameras, no doubt zoning in on her. Now it was time to give the other tributes hell.
It wasn't long before Laurel and her mutt army were forced to turn back. Neptune announced the feast, a compulsory one to attend just in case no one decided to show up for the big finale. On one hand, Laurel could finish the Games as quick as possible. On the other hand, assuming the tributes didn't gang up on her army and take them down, she would be standing amongst the battered, mangled corpses of five innocent tributes, the girl from Four, the girl from Seven, the boy from Ten and both from Eleven. She shuddered even more when she realised that she knew all their names by heart. Blue, Jack, Stallion, Pea and Bean. She had talked with Pea in the Training Centre. She'd been so nice, that for Laurel to order her army to kill her, it just seemed far too cruel. The army entered the clearing, where Jack and Blue were already tumbling in the now red frosting ground, grappling over a backpack. Jack turned and screamed when he caught a glimpse of Laurel. "Charge!" she ordered. It only took ten seconds. Both Blue and Jack were already badly wounded and smeared with chocolate, not exactly the best look to pull off before dying. Even Laurel had managed to scrub off most of her chocolatey camouflage off her body. Laurel looked away as the cannons boomed, only to spy Stallion smashing his club into Pea in the distance, Bean screaming not too far away. Pea. Dead just like Diode. Laurel's vision began to blur. What happened next was a queer and odd moment in her life. She could feel the rush of both adrenaline and the wind of her personalised mutt army running with her. It felt eerily good. She could feel herself wielding her sickle. But she didn't remember what had happened after that. When she finally came to, Bean and Stallion were both dead, their legs sliced off and the gingerbread mutts still kicking and punching the boys' corpses. Laurel gulped, realising her sickle was dripping wet with hot, thick, red liquid. Had she done this? Had she killed them herself? The thoughts swarmed her head, threatening to knock her out even as the trumpets sounded. As the hovercraft, like some angel descending from heaven, closed in on her, she finally blacked out.
Katniss and Peeta had their moment of silence for Laurel. "I guess she and I weren't so different after all," Peeta murmured, his hands turning clammy all of a sudden.
"Still, I'm pretty sure I heard my teachers talk about her being a general of an army in her Games or something," Katniss remembered. "What's that supposed to mean?"
Peeta shrugged. "I guess we can ask Teff if she survived."
There was nothing the pair had to add on about Laurel, so Peeta flipped the page and they moved on. Katniss had to choke back a sob when she saw her face. A girl with dark skin and elegant, raven black hair was pictured in the photograph. She was looking away from the audience, instead focusing on the Peacekeeper force behind the crowds. Her wrists were wrung together, and inside her palms, Katniss and Peeta could faintly make out the outline of a ball. "Seeder Crue."
VICTORS
District 1-Sapphire Huntington(4), Onyx Hibonite(9), Franc Montgomery(14), Crystal Montgomery(21), Sterling Jones(25)
District 2-Ragnar Sveinsson(5), Reyna Boudicca(6), Draco Hadley(10), Scipio MacAllister(17), Freya Carson(22), Hercules Nichols(28)
District 3-Nikola Johnson(13), Gadget Schroeder(24)
District 4-Marina Bluebell(1), Mags Flanagan(11)
District 5-Shocker Crimson(8), Switch Kim(19), Flash Morrison(27)
District 6-Ford Hamilton(20)
District 7-Hassan Greenwood(2), Jill Wilson(15), Olive Sanchez(26)
District 8-Woof Casino(16)
District 9-Gwendolyn Whitfield(18), Laurel Flamsteel(29)
District 10-Ringo Alvarez(7), John Gatwick(23)
District 11-Orchid Bloom(12)
District 12-Axel Millar(3)
A/N: So Laurel, the baker girl and mutt general, has come out as Victor! Yeah, Peeta did say the arena could be a giant cake, so that's exactly what I did here. Hope you enjoyed this and pls review and tell me what you think! Stay tuned, Seeder is up next!