Chapter 43: Mare Trybull

A/N: District Ten have their third Victor and this time it's the woman in the Quell! Who was she and how did she win her Games? This cunning girl might not seem like much at a glance, but you would be making a horrific and costly mistake if you underestimate her. Deadly, lethal and with a dash of loathing hate, her antics are not for the faint-hearted...

P.S. This arena was crafted by cartierscrown. Thanks Cartier for helping me out for the past few chapters aha

Katniss raised an eyebrow. "She looks fierce."

Peeta nodded, his eyes fixated on the girl's icy face. "Yeah. She seemed pretty angry during training before the Quell. She really does hate the Capitol, doesn't she?"

"Hate is putting it lightly," Katniss muttered. "She was really badass, though. I respect her for that."

Peeta chuckled softly. "Not as badass as you, Kat."

Katniss smiled, but the smile quickly disappeared. "I saw her death from the Quell recaps. It took all the Careers so long to bring her down. Enobaria nearly lost her head making that final stab."

Peeta shuddered. "Thank goodness we never crossed paths. I know she was part of the Rebellion too, but still, I highly doubt she would let anything stand in her way, not even the Mockingjay."

Mare Trybull

District Ten

Aged 15

12 Kills

Mare was furious. Furious at the Capitol. Furious at the Gamemakers. Furious for all who had wronged her. She wanted revenge. The Capitol had thrown all three of her brothers and her only sister into the arena, now they were all dead and buried. Her parents were killed in a rogue bombing by rogue Peacekeepers. The Peacekeepers weren't even executed, they were merely transferred to District Twelve. There was no justice, no peace, no happiness. Only a burning hatred and a wave of fiery anger. She glared coldly as she walked to her workplace, a butcher's shop where she worked in, a place that she absolutely loathed. The owner was fine, he treated her fairly, but the quota that they had to meet was simply impossible to meet. She worked long and hard, but the conditions were simply unbearable. The sheer number of beatings and whippings she had been forced to go through was inhumane, to say the least. Everyone steered clear of her and for good reason. She was known for being a hot-tempered fierce fighter, especially when she had a target in mind. A Peacekeeper had once ended up hung on a tree with all his vital organs missing and splattered in bleach. He had robbed Mare of her earnings the day before and the feisty then-twelve-year-old Mare had exerted her revenge on him in the hardest way possible. No charges were ever filed against her, the suspected culprit was some random man from the ranches. He was shot to death the next day, not that Mare felt any remorse. Her revenge would be brought about, regardless of the consequences. She had no use for him, she didn't care one bit if he died. Now aged fifteen, she had bigger, better, bloodier tricks up her sleeve and she wasn't afraid to use them. She had already done so on several occasions, but she had never been punished for her acts of vengeance. The one time she had been caught, she had threatened that unfortunate Peacekeeper's family, forcing the woman from Two into silence. In District Ten's illustrious history of cowboys and rogue outlaws, she was arguably the ultimate outlaw. Tipping her hat as she saddled on her stolen grey donkey, a tight, handmade rope around its gruff neck, and she rode off into the glittering sunset, the shiny, awfully sharp steel dagger she had robbed from a mute junior Peacekeeper in her belt, the nervous passers-by bolting away as she rode by.

"Mare Trybull!" Mare narrowed her eyes. The entire District's attention turned to her, with mixed looks of relief, dissatisfaction and plain confusion on how to feel. Mare raised her chin. She wasn't afraid. Not even close. Why would she be afraid, when the crown was already hers before the Games even began? No one knew who she was outside of District Ten, no one knew what she was capable of. The minute she entered the arena, she would vow to show everyone just what an Outlier girl could do, when they least expected it. She strode up the steps with a strikingly confident pose, glaring so murderously and with so much malice at the escort, the poor purple-haired, eggplant-like lady reeled backwards and fumbled her lines. A cold, icy smile, colder than death, formed on Mare's lips as she sneered wickedly at the escort's reaction.

"Scared of a little girl?" she whispered, the undertone unmistakeable. The escort yelped and scooted off to the boys' Reaping bowl, her fingers twitching ever so nervously. Mare crossed her arms, raising an impatient eyebrow as the escort fumbled her hand into the bowl, stammering horribly. Mare sighed. She had no time for this bullshit. She marched over, roughly shoved the escort aside and pulled out a slip herself. "James Oliveira, get your ass up here right now!" From within the crowd, a boy from the eighteen-year-olds section shuffled over with a huge scowl on his face. He had coarse black hair and tanned skin. His eyes were sad and gloomy, almost resigned to his horrible fate, very different from the wild, ice-cold girl who had been Reaped before him. Mare sighed. James was useless, probably cannon fodder in the Bloodbath. There was no point in offering an alliance or even acknowledging his presence. She shook his hand roughly, a dark smile on her lips, a hint of what was soon to come in the arena. James winced, his eyes suddenly terrified of this dangerous threat, a person he had thought he wouldn't have to worry about. How wrong he was.

Ringo and John looked at Mare with wary eyes, fidgeting slightly in their seats as one of her eyebrows crept up expectantly, her gaze darkening. The escort had fled from the scene, startled by this uncanny and unsettling tribute girl. "Which of you is going to be my mentor?" she asked, her voice barely audible but undeniably cold nonetheless. Her eyes shifted between the two Victors. They were both decent choices. Both had defied the jaws of death the Capitol had created to swallow them up, she could respect them.

"Ringo would like to inform you that he would love to be your mentor!" John said all of a sudden, his voice almost afraid, as he raised his prosthetic arm to point at a dumbfounded Ringo. Ringo's eyes widened as he gaped at John, who swiftly scooted over to James and led the scowling boy to his room. Mare smiled cruelly at Ringo. Yes, he would do. The legendary cowboy Victor mentoring the legendary outlaw girl. It was perfect, truly a great perfection in her eyes. Ringo gulped. This girl freaked him out and everything about her seemed to raise a million alarm bells. He would very much rather dive into a hole and hide from this wild outlaw than spend time alone with her, but the reality of the situation prevented him from doing so. Memories of those horrible tributes from the first Quell crept into his mind, drowning him with all those horrific memories of Sterling's Games. Was Mare one of those horrific criminals? She seemed to be, except she wasn't either. There was just something about her, that dissuaded him from picturing her as a brutal criminal who deserved to die in the arena. Perhaps it was her rebelliousness, her blatant disregard for the escorts or the Peacekeepers. Perhaps it was the fact that she was sitting across him, waiting for instructions with a relatively neutral expression, even though her eyes were still hard as stone. Ringo shifted nervously and cleared his throat, trying his absolute best to hide his fear.

"Okay, so Mare, what are your strengths?" he asked, his voice almost calm. Almost. There was a slight quiver towards the end that pretty much revealed his nervousness. Thankfully, Mare decided to give it a pass. She stared off thoughtfully into space and for a brief moment, Ringo was afraid she would pull out a gun and shoot him. He hated this silence that had befallen upon them. At any point, Mare could just pull off some dirty trick and there would be no way of knowing. Eventually, though, she did speak.

"Knives. And lassoes. And martial arts," Mare replied, saying each word slowly and coldly for emphasis, a smile brimming with anticipation forming on her lips. She crossed her arms, glinting dangerously at Ringo, who could only gulp. "I'm a good fighter, Ringo. And a good survivalist. Just point out my biggest threats and I'll come back home as Victor."

Ringo wasn't sure if he truly wanted that to happen.

The stylist for District Ten was a newbie, but by no means a terrible one. Mare demanded that she be given an outfit befitting a brave warrior outlaw and Hestia had done just that. "Show 'em what you're made of," Hestia told her, grinning wickedly, an act which Mare approved of greatly. She decided that Hestia was the only likeable person in the Capitol, one of three people worthy of her respect, the other two being Ringo and John. Mare smirked and shook hestia's hand roughly. Hestia didn't even wince, she merely returned the smirk.

"Oh, trust me, I'll show them, all right," Mare promised, chuckling to herself.

Hestia nodded. "That's the spirit."

The other tributes, dressed in their usual disgusting outfits, turned and gaped as Mare sauntered towards her chariot, dressed as a classic outlaw, complete with stains of blood across her shirt and pants, a brown hat, a pair of revolvers, a pair of sunglasses and a bullwhip. She tipped her sunglasses, giving each and every one of the tributes a cold. threatening glower that made the girl from Three and the boy from Twelve yelp and cower behind their chariots. She hopped on the horse but she didn't stop there. She stood on that lazy creature, pressing its neck with her boot, causing it to whiny in sheer pain. James watched her from his chariot. The butcher boy had never ridden a horse before, he was perfectly fine inside the chariot. As the chariots prepared to go out into the watchful eyes of the screaming Capitolians, Mare caught the eye of the equally terrifying girl from Two, Dracarys. The girls gave each other warning looks, daring the other to steal the thunder in the Parade. The chariots began to roll out and Mare looked on, a look of sheer concentration on her face. She was going to show these stupid bimbos just what an Outlier girl could do.

The Capitol roared into life as Mare came out, standing with one foot on each horse, glaring apprehensively at the cameras. She took out her revolvers and swung them in the air. There were no bullets, thankfully, but she still fired the revolvers anyway, the blank shot echoing throughout the sea of surprised onlookers, who began to cheer her name. Mare rolled her eyes. These people were so shallow, so easy to kill. She could easily hop off this ride, march over to them and snap their necks, no problem, end of discussion. But her plan to succeed in taking down the Capitol and Snow's tyrannical regime relief on her being compliant... for now.

The other tributes nearly shat themselves watching her in training. Mare was so extraordinarily terrifying, it was like watching a beast in its wild, natural habitat. They were careful to keep their distance, huddling at the opposite end of the Training Centre as she struck down a dummy before biting it and ripping it to shreds with her claw-like nails. She was more than ready for the bloody arena. The Careers were, in a way, impressed, but also a little intimidated, not that they would ever admit it. Brutus urged Spartacus to approach her, offering a spot in the Career pack to replace the weak, asthmatic girl from Four. What he hadn't expected was Mare's reaction. Most would immediately accept such a coveted offer, but not Mare. No, like the total badass she was, she spat right into Spartacus's face and pushed him aside. Spartacus yelped and stared at her incredulously. What was this behaviour? What was this blatant disrespect? But before he could even utter a word, she sneered at him, taking him by surprise. "Why would I join your pathetic little fellowship, huh, buddy boy?" Mare snarled. "Your stupid Career pack is nothing but a soggy, glorified kindergarten friendship. Pathetic lads, see ya later, bitches." She marched off, a proud, triumphant look on her hardened face.

Spartacus was left speechless. He stood there, his jaw dropped, trying his best to put the pieces together and comprehend what had just happened. "What the heck?" was all he could manage.

Mare's interview was an absolute bust, a horrific disaster. After all the initial hype surrounding her Parade performance and her magnificent score of ten, the Capitolians were disappointed, to say the least, when Mare refused to say anything apart from "Yeah, sure, whatever..." in a quiet, barely audible, cold tone that sent shivers up the spines of the Capitolians and nearly broke Caesar's professionalism. She left the stage, chin high up in a cocky way, sauntering coolly and confidently, as a spatter of polite, intimidated applause could be heard across the hall. Ringo shook his head sadly, wondering what the hell Mare thought she was doing. Hestia smirked a little, knowing exactly what Mare had intended to do. The escort buried her head in her hands, her chance of promotion through getting a Victor seemingly lost in the winds of hopelessness. But Mare was satisfied. She had no intention of giving these spoiled, bratty bastards what they wanted. Their looks of disappointed were like valuable, beautiful artwork to her icy green eyes. She sat in her room, doing her final push-ups for the night, as she thought of how she would totally crush the other tributes.

The arena this year was hardly as stunning as last year's bamboo grove, but it was a sight to behold nonetheless. The Cornucopia was set on a relatively small, flat island with no trees and only small, scattered pebbles in the brown dust. On the shores of the island were four wooden plank bridges leading to four separate islands. The plank bridge behind Mare led to a flat, desolate island of windy, dusty plains, with hardly any cover aside from a few scattered trees. Definitely not a good option to run to. On Mare's left was an island with a steep mountain terrain, with tall, imposing peaks that towered menacingly high above the Cornucopia island. It would be a difficult place to traverse, but also a good hiding spot. Mare didn't like that option either though. She looked to her right. The island there was a snowy, frozen island with several scattered conifers and jagged, snowy rocks. For someone who lived ina snowy District like Six, Seven or Twelve, it might seem like a viable option, but for Mare, who had lived all her life in District Ten, where the sun was sweltering hot and never seemed to stop glaring down at the labourers, that island was practically off-limits. Which left only the final island, behind the Cornucopia, one Mare could barely see, but she could tell that it was covered in thick, dense forests. She smirked. Perfect. That also meant she could have a blast in the Bloodbath. Balling her fists, she hunched over in a sprinter's position, readying herself for the fight of her life. The gong rang and she raced in, faster than every other tribute around her, straight into the heart of the Cornucopia. She snatched a sword and whirled around, charging straight at the girl from Seven, who just happened to be the unlucky second-fastest runner. Slash! The lumberjill's head was lobbed off her neck effortlessly, and just like that, Mare had claimed her first kill in the arena. This was by far the easiest kill she had ever made. Mare licked her lips with anticipation. The others were next. She stormed towards the girl from Four, and as Coral screamed and pleaded in the Mentoring Room, Mare chopped off her neck too, not even a single bit of remorse or regret in her icy eyes. She snarled like a wild beast. This was by no means fun, but it was satisfying. She was two steps closer to achieving her victory and then she would help take down the Capitol. She looked around, searching for her next unwilling target. By then, the Careers seemed to have finally woken up and realised that this outlaw from Ten was a major, concerning threat, a flame that needed to be extinguished before it was too late. Spartacus hoisted his spear and charged at Mare, his movements swift and certain. Mare had her back turned to him and she didn't seem to have noticed him at all. Spartacus smirked. Perfect. He could take her out with one, easy blow.

Or could he?

At the very last second, Mare leapt into the air and did a flying somersault, before karate-kicking Spartacus in the head as she fell to the ground, landing on her feet like it was nothing. Spartacus dropped to the ground, groaning in agony as pain seared through his head like wildfire. A red bulge had formed, not exactly the sort of injury you would expect such a strong, powerful Career like Spartacus to sustain in the opening melee of the Bloodbath. A sneaky, wicked smile curled on Mare's lips as she judo-flipped the heavy hunk of a Career over her back, smashing his head straight into the dust. He got a faceful of dust in his mouth as Mare plunged her sword into his back. Spartacus bit the dust, both literally and metaphorically. The other Careers stumbled backwards. This definitely wasn't supposed to happen. A Career should not be dying in the Bloodbath, for goodness sake! The four allies exchanged nervous, worried, uncertain glances, their eyes darting around, trying to think up of a solution to this unforeseen problem known as Mare Trybull. They spent too much doing so. Mare had already begun her charge, smashing her fist into the girl from One's skull and sending her foot flying into her chest. The blows were so hard, the impacts so profound, that it didn't take long for the beautiful noble girl to leave this horrific, desolate arena for a better place. The Careers began to snap themselves back to reality a sudden realisation filling their hardened eyes. They had to take Mare down now, or their hopes of Victory would be lost forever. All three Career surrounded her, closing in for a unanimous kill. Mare chuckled softly, her icy eyes squinting ever so slightly. "You think you can defeat me?" she growled in a low, menacing voice that echoed through the winds.

Dracarys gritted her teeth. She had thought that the Bloodbath would be all fun and games, a whole day of just killing random kids for her own sick pleasure. But she was second-guessing everything she knew. Now, this butcher's assistant from Ten was standing high an mighty, a threat that was really scaring the living daylights out of her. Mare lunged at her first. She dodged the first blow the outlaw sent at her but the second one was too quick, too rapid, too oddly precise for her to block. The sword was sent twisting and churning up her guts, the only sound Dracarys could utter as she stood there, frozen, dying, being a choked gasp as she realised the true horrors of the arena. But it was far too late for her. Mare pulled the sword out and she crumbled in a heap to the ground, gone forever. Mare spun around and smacked the boy from Four with the hilt of her sword as he came running, before leaping into the air and kicking both of the remaining Careers in their throats. Both the boys from One and Four tumbled to the ground, choking and moaning, wishing they had just run when the opportunity had presented itself. Mare snarled at them as she stepped on both of their throats, jumping and bouncing as if she were on a trampoline, choking both boys to death. The cannons began to fire and Mare took a good look around her. Sixteen tributes lay dead on the dusty, blood-stained clearing, sixteen obstacles out of her way to Victory and freedom. Mare shrugged. She could not care less about them. They did not matter one bit to her. So, feeling absolutely nothing but hatred towards the Capitol, she marched off towards the forest island, a sword and a backpack in hand, ready to finish this Games off.

The boy from Seven should have known better. The boy had leaned against a tree in the middle of the night to rest, hoping, praying that no one would notice him. He was a light sleeper, so at any given moment, if any noise, even the softest of rustles or the quiet snap of a twig, could be heard, he would wake up and begin his escape into the oceans that lay beyond the islands. he thought he was a decent swimmer, not as good as a Four maybe, but definitely better than Mare, who had never even seen a drop of seawater in her entire life apart from when she was watching the Games. In the middle of the night, Mare silently approached, sword in hand, ready to kill. But, just as the audience had expected, the boy woke up with a jolt and fled the scene. Mare ran after him, a blazing fury in her eyes as she screamed a loud, booming war cry that sent waves and peals of terror through the bodies of Capitolian viewers. The boy bounded through the dark, moonless night, racing past trees he knew by heart, as he finally reached the blue waters of the ocean. He plunged right in as Mare began to close in on him, a deadly snarl of frustration escaping her lips. But the boy had run into a fatal trap. Because there was no ocean. It was just a program. The boy plunged through the sky, straight into the churning jaws of poison-tipped razors below. Boom. Mare stared at the empty void in the ocean with a murky sense of confusion, but then she shrugged. A death was a death, it didn't matter how or who died, she needed all twenty-three kids to die before she could go home, take down the government and save thousands of lives across the nation. "Seventeen down, six more to go," she cackled, brandishing her sword as she trudged away.

A clean sweep of the forest that lasted three days eventually led Mare to her seventh kill in the Hunger Games. The girl from Nine, Barleyene, was hidden up in the trees, cautiously holding her sickle as she waited for an unsuspecting tribute, preferably Mare, to come near enough for her to throw that golden sickle at their neck and claim a kill. She waited and waited, her patience almost infinite since she had spent a good portion of her life hiding out in the wheat fields, trying to remain concealed from her abusive mother. She lay on her stomach on a sturdy branch, her sickle in hand, just waiting for someone to pass by. Her eyes darted around constantly, aware of any threats that may pose a risk to her life. She thought she was being very careful, being very smart about the Games.

She was wrong.

On the fourth day, as she lay there, her dark, calculating brown eyes flitting around nervously, something hit her in the back. She looked down and gasped as she saw an arrow, drenched in a sickly green liquid as blood oozed out, draining her of her life. "No..." she gasped. From the corner of her eye, she spied Mare, that damned girl from Ten, holding a crossbow, a vial of green poison attached to her belt, glaring icily at her. Barleyene rolled over and plummeted to the ground, her body cracking up and her bones smashing to bits. But she was already dead.

Since the forest was now clear of tributes, Mare decided to head over to the mountain island. It was a perfect place to hide, if one knew how to scale the peaks, that is. Mare wasn't too confident about climbing those steep, jagged mountains, but she didn't let that doubt show. On camera, she had a confident, unrelenting pose that spoke volumes of her being a true, badass warrior girl. The crossbow and vial of poison had both been sponsored to her by a wealthy Capitolian official who had bet a huge sum on her taking the crown. Now, it seemed that her victory was only a formality. But Mare wasn't going to let her guard down just yet. The tables could turn in the most rapid of fashions in this arena. She knew that all too well when her brother had died and finished third in that horrible arena that had spat out that horrible Nazi girl. No way she was taking a chance here. She approached the peaks and began to scale the rocks, her footing a little wobbly here and there, but after a while, her movement became flawless, as if she were a mountain ibex. The Capitol could only watch in awe as she trudged towards the hiding spot of the boy from Eight with finesse, her sword and a poisoned arrow in either hand, ready to strike. The boy crouched and tried his best to remain silent but it was no use. Mare popped her head behind his rock and grinned when she saw the terrified boy, that cold, icy green sparkle flashing in her eyes. "Hello, bitch," she greeted, her voice cheerfully menacing. The boy screamed but it was cut short with a quick slash of Mare's sword. Boom. The cannon fired in the distance. "Almost there," Mare muttered. "Just a few more to go."

By the next day, the number of tributes had been narrowed down to a measly four. James had been hiding out on the frozen island. Being from the tropical District known as Ten, where the sun was absolutely relentless and there was no respite from the heat whatsoever, the sudden drop in temperatures was hardly beneficial for the butcher boy. After several days of failing to start a fire and shivering through cold, unforgiving nights, he eventually succumbed to his icy death in a land so icy it gave him haunting nightmares of his own District partner's icy green eyes. When Mare saw his death portrait, she couldn't help but feel a little relieved that she did not have to be James's killer. The outlaw, despite her harsh push for the crown, still wasn't too comfortable with the idea of killing her own District partner. It was taboo, after all. As his death portrait faded away and the anthem died down, Mare stood up and headed out to hunt for more tributes again. She had heard a faint voice nearby, so a tribute couldn't be too far away. She trudged along, carrying her sword and poisoned arrow in her hands and a backpack over her shoulders as she chewed on her final sandwich, the juicy taste of meat filling her throat like a refreshing power boost. Standing in front of Mare was a steep cliff face, with a narrow, winding path on its side that led to the top of the cliff. The path was narrow, only about a metre wide and was slippery after last night's drizzle. Mare looked up and saw the terrified girl from Six attempting to scale this steep climb, her legs trembling like leaves as she nervously traversed the path, loose rocks and dirt crumbling beneath her feet as she stepped as daintily as she could. Mare took out her crossbow and loaded it with her final poisoned arrow. Aiming it at the girl's back, she squinted her eyes. She would only get this one, crucial shot. If she missed and the girl made it to the top of the cliff, well, there was no way Mare could reach the clifftop too without the girl throwing something at her to deter her climb. This one shot would have to be it. "Come on, Mare," she mumbled, preparing to shoot. A second later, she had sent the arrow soaring through the air as it lodged itself into the girl's neck. There was no sound, no scream, nothing as she fell to the ground, her cannon already booming before she landed with a loud thud, her body broken and bloodied, unrecognisable to all who had known her before. Mare calmly walked over and pulled the arrow out. She would save it for later. Giving the girl one, final, distasteful look, she headed off to hunt down her final two tributes: the boy from Nine and the boy from Eleven. She smirked as she trudged off.

"You better come out soon, because Mare Trybull is coming for you!" she sang out, her tone cold and full of loathing malice. But she wasn't referring to the two boys from the two Outlier Districts as the Capitol audience had assumed. No, she was referring to President Snow and the Capitolian elites who were no doubt watching her with careful eyes, observing her every move and word with close attention. What she didn't know was that two more Presidents were watching her, from a safe distance, away from the knowledge of the common people of Panem. Plasma Perthshire, President of District Thirteen and Oakette Mason, President of District Fourteen were carefully observing her, already singling her out as a rebel they wanted in their rebellious plans.

Mare finally found the two Outlier boys hiding in the Cornucopia on the seventh and final day of the Games. With a relieved smirk on her dirt-covered face, she charged at the poor, shivering pair, who were hidden behind a set of metal crates, both twelve-year-old boys crying and hugging each other, begging Mare for mercy as she bounded towards them, the fiery blazing hatred in her eyes as she ran like a cheetah through the clearing, sword high above her head, ready to spill some tribute blood into the already soaked ground. The two boys closed their eyes as one by one she lobbed their heads off with her sword, glaring menacingly at them as she did so. The cannons boomed and the trumpets sounded. Mare dropped her bloody sword, a tired smile on her face. She had barely even noticed she was even in the arena. To her, it was business as usual. But now came the fun part. She could join Marina's rebellious group of Victors, working alongside them to take down the Capitol.

Years later, and the plan was about to be put into action. Mare had promised she would defend the Mockingjay, Katniss Everdeen, at all costs, even if she did think the girl was far too stubborn for her own good. Then again, she was probably a lot more human and capable of showing mercy than Mare was, so did she really have any grounds to complain? Mare just wished that those damn Capitolians would stop confusing her name with that Victor from Five Marie's. There was no 'i' between the letters r and e in 'Mare', was that so difficult to remember? She rolled her eyes as her launch tube went up, ready for her final battle in the arena.

She might not make it out.

She might never see the Capitol fall.

She might never be remembered by anyone.

But she would never give up.

For the second and final time in her life, she gave the Cornucopia an icy look as the gong rang.

Katniss and Peeta had a moment of silence for the badass outlaw girl from Ten. "She was simply on a whole other level," Peeta remarked.

Katniss nodded. "If she had been in our first Games, well, we wouldn't be here right now. And Cato, Clove, Marvel, Glimmer and Mariana would all be dead in the Bloodbath."

"Thank goodness she wasn't then," Peeta told her. There was hardly anything else to say so Peeta flipped the page, revealing the next Victor. He was a strong, muscular boy with blonde hair and if you delved closely, you could see a slight resemblance to Geneva Cooper, a Victor who had won before him and was now standing behind him, a relieved look on her classically beautiful face. A striking feature was his relatively youthful face, which, when compared to the other Victors from his District, minus Sapphire, was an odd anomaly. He wore a golden bracelet on his right hand with a tiny brand name, too small to be identified in the photograph, printed on it. "Cartier Cooper."

VICTORS

District 1-Sapphire Huntington(4), Onyx Hibonite(9), Franc Montgomery(14), Crystal Montgomery(21), Sterling Jones(25), Luxe Carmichael(36), Geneva Cooper(37)

District 2-Ragnar Sveinsson(5), Reyna Boudicca(6), Draco Hadley(10), Scipio MacAllister(17), Freya Carson(22), Hercules Nichols(28), Julia Dawson(39), Brutus Gunn(42)

District 3-Nikola Johnson(13), Gadget Schroeder(24), Beetee Latier(40)

District 4-Marina Bluebell(1), Mags Flanagan(11), Jolien Fisher(31), Timmy Fisher(32), Iris Fisher(33), Rafael Fisher(34), Coral Thiller(41)

District 5-Shocker Crimson(8), Switch Kim(19), Flash Morrison(27), Porter Tripp(38)

District 6-Ford Hamilton(20)

District 7-Hassan Greenwood(2), Jill Wilson(15), Olive Sanchez(26), Birch Davison(35)

District 8-Woof Casino(16)

District 9-Gwendolyn Whitfield(18), Laurel Flamsteel(29)

District 10-Ringo Alvarez(7), John Gatwick(23), Mare Trybull (43)

District 11-Orchid Bloom(12), Seeder Crue(30)

District 12-Axel Millar(3)

A/N: Ah, yes, Mare, the badass outlaw girl from District Ten who absolutely hates the Capitol! Yeah, this was pretty easy and kind of fun to write since I simply love her as a character and she just had to slot in here somewhere. This idea of writing out all the Victors seemed so fun and interesting back during quarantine, but now, well, it's kinda difficult to think up of a new idea literally every single week and writing something that will impress an older audience is more daunting than it seems hehe. I still retained some of my old original characters from my early fanfiction days when I was eight (back when my fics were on old, unused notebooks) like Iris and Rafael, but a lot has changed since then, and ya'll have definitely helped a ton since Marina's chapter. Hope you guys enjoyed that and thanks again Cartier for helping me out with these recent chapters by creating this arena and Coral's, you've been a lifesaver haha. And the next Victor derives his name from him (I ran out of District One names lol) and it's gonna be an interesting chapter, so stay tuned, stay safe, don't forget to review and share your thoughts on the planned SYOT I mentioned in Brutus's chapter and I'll see you guys next time. Cheers:)