Hi smol beans, tol beans and all other types of beans!

ALSO HI ghost readers! I seem to be getting quite a few hits on here lately, and a good chunk of you are new to the story, so hi, hello, how are you? I hope you're enjoying the story so far~
I also hope that my old author's notes aren't too wild. You know I'm weird - you came for the writing, and hopefully, you'll stay for the crazy XD

Thanks to our lovely authors for sending in our final four tributes; Jms2 (Vanity), symphorophilia (Shion), xxbookwormmockingjayxx (Morgana), and Alecxias (Lewis)!

Disclaimer: I do not own the Hunger Games in any way, shape, or form. I only own the arena I have created.

"Sooner or later, everyone sits down to a banquet of consequences." ~Robert Louis Stevenson

Vanity Genot, Seventeen, District Two Female

Here we go again.

I'm not really bothered about the reaping recaps, even though I know they're useful. I've seen many recaps for the reapings in past games, and they all tend to kind of go the same way. At the moment, there's a very simple goal I have in mind, and that's my dominating thought.

Get into the arena. Get out.

I'm not interested in people whining about the details or going about nonsense. As a career, you should go into the Games, get the job done, and get out. The only reason you need to kill someone is to prioritise your safety and survival, and I have absolutely zero interest in making my kills anything more than that. Senseless killing is pointless. It makes you twisted and warped, and that's not someone I really want to be. I've always been the kind of person to stay quiet and get the job done, and this isn't any different. I'll kill anyone if I want to get out of these Games, but I'm not going to be the ruthless, bloodthirsty animals that the rest of the Districts see us by.

I kill if I have to, but I don't want it to change me.

I haven't always been like this; I used to be so young and filled with imagination, wishing for a better tomorrow and running around with my older brother, Marinity, or Mars for short. On the outside, my eyes are watching the opening speech made by Dallas Cornwall as he talks excitedly and wildly about the Games. On the inside, my heart remains forever broken.

I was close to my brother, and he was everything to me. He was my brother and my best friend, as well as the role model I always wanted to look up to. When you're that close to someone, you create a bond that ties the two of you together. But my Dad has always wanted to push us since he wanted his children to be great and strong in whatever we did. Instead of sticks, we began to hold swords, and instead of games, our minds were fine-tuned to strategy and planning. Part of me misses those days of innocence, but now I like the feeling of accomplishment. I like to push myself to achieve my goals because there's a nice feeling when you finally succeed. My brother decided to become a Peacekeeper and was shipped out to go and work in District Four. I still remember the day when I let myself cry, hugging him tightly and waving goodbye. The last memory I have of him was his sad smile, his blue eyes shining as he waved to me from afar.

My brother and I always had each other's backs, and all of a sudden I became alone. It was hard to deal with the loss of someone you love, but I didn't realise how hard that would be when he returned to us in a coffin. A hurricane hit District Four, and he was one of the unfortunate souls that lost his life that day. A part of me has been broken ever since. I became closed off and non-communicative. I threw myself into training and pushed myself harder than I ever had before. Mom and Dad took it hard too, drifting apart until they reached a breaking point and eventually divorced.

The slightest change can destroy even the strongest of families.

It turned out that my brother's death was the event that changed it all. There's a part of me even today that feels like I could have prevented it. Maybe if I stopped him leaving and kept him close to me, then maybe I would still have him today. He would have been twenty this year, but instead, he was caught in a storm, his life stolen from me forever.

It's always nice to have someone there who supports you, and soon enough, there were people who began to fill my brother's place, even though I continued to hurt. Now I am hardened and sharper than steel, and I know that I am not someone who will lie down and let myself fail in my goals, especially since I've volunteer to be here over so many others who hoped to take my place. I always watched some of the victors from Two, admiring their riches from afar. I've always been interested in their way of life and the idea of glory, it's true. But I know that there's another reason why I'm here. I know that a part of Mars lives through me, and I have to show myself that his trust and belief in me wasn't misplaced.

The familiar call of trumpets reminds me that I'm too busy thinking when I should be focusing.

District One both look like solid and strong careers, with both the girl and the boy mounting the stage quite confidently. The boy seems to look a bit more confident than the girl, so I wouldn't be surprised if he was to take leadership of the career pack. I wouldn't mind. I'm not here to be the star of a show, I'm here to kill everyone else and get out alive. District Two reapings come quickly after. I see myself take to the stage confidently, volunteering in my usual determined fashion and staring out into the crowd in an almost casual fashion. Landon, my District partner, runs to the stage shortly after, outstripping everyone else and volunteering, with several angry faces evident in the crowd. I take a peek at Landon, who's watching the recaps like I am.

The Caruso family are well-known in Two, partly because it looks like they're untouchable, and partly because nobody really sees them. To know that I'm up against Landon could mean that I'm up against a threat, but I don't know that much about him, besides the fact that he's probably had training. I carry on watching with Landon in my thoughts, watching as the District Three girl looks completely shell-shocked when her name is called, and the boy just laughs out loud as if he's lost his mind. District Four gains my attention because last year the District Four tributes betrayed the career pack. I don't exactly want that to happen here, so I know I can't take any chances until I know what's up.

The girl seems sharp and confident, volunteering and striding towards the stage without a care in the world. She certainly looks like a typical career, and the boy seems the same as the volunteers as well, walking quietly up to the stage and joining the girl.

In Five, the girl is shoved by some of the other girls in her section. She shakes her fist at them, mutters something and then begins to be dragged to the stage by the Peacekeepers. After a few seconds, she finds her voice, yelling about her innocence. The boy isn't overly different, fighting the Peacekeepers that drag him from a secluded section of the square. He looks to be some kind of prisoner, but he begs the escort to take him away. Even as a career, I'm a little shaken. These two seem out of their minds, but they could just be playing it up for the cameras.

The girl from Six looks as if she might collapse as she walks up to the stage, trying (and failing) to compose herself, while the Mayoress of Six is quick to scream in horror as her young-looking son is reaped. The boy cries silently as he walks up to the stage. I don't even blink at their reactions. These kinds of emotions tend to be common for those who haven't trained themselves for the Games, and while I do sympathise with them, I'm well aware that they are now my competitors, and they must die by my hand if I want to get out alive.

I just hope the Games will go smoothly…for my sake.

I have too much to fight for.

Shion Qing, Seventeen, District Five Male

Take me away from here. Take me away from here. Take me away from here.

My own words are a chant in my head; a song that my mind has decided to sing. This place is fascinating, and it's some kind of transport. It's light, and that's good, but it's too bright and piercing. My eyes are only really beginning to get used to this bright, colourful world around me – my trip from the sanatorium to the reaping stage was such an assault on my eyes that I swear I've sustained some type of damage to my vision.

I was born in darkness, and I grew up in the shadows. Everything about my life has been swathed in the black, the only light coming from candles or dim lights.

I am the Prince of Darkness.

That's what the guards at the sanatorium call me, anyway. In my padded cell, the lights are dim and low, and the corners of my cell are hidden entirely in dark shadows. Apparently, I'm crazy. I don't really know if I care. It's not my fault that darkness is all I've known. My Mother was probably crazier than me; she locked me in my little room with boarded windows and heavy curtains, shielding me from the horrors of the outside world. She's always been nervous, unhinged, and paranoid in a way. I guess she just wanted to keep me safe.

She could not, however, keep me from the greatest thing the world has ever seen.

Light.

Fire is best, but the light is still incredible. My life in darkness brings only dim shadows and the whispers of my mind. But the light is different. The flicker of flames from candles mesmerise me, and I know this kind of light, however how bright, will show me something I haven't seen before. Sure, it's comfortable in the shadows, but the light is so…new, so fresh, that I can't even begin to explain my attraction to it. Perhaps it was the fact that my Mother took away the light that sparked my desire to search for it in any form.

In many ways, you could say I'm a moth to the flames.

I've always been shut away in the darkness, without anyone to care about me. Mum shut me in a small room filled with darkness, and ever since childhood, that's been my life. I know she's paranoid and delusional about the outside world and what it might hold for me, and I guess at the time, locking me away seemed like the right thing to do. It was some kind of twisted form of a Mother's protection that has made me who I am today. She now lives a few rooms away from me, probably in a straightjacket or some kind. She's just as insane as I am, if not more so.

It's not like my position at the sanatorium matters anyway.

Who would even care about a crazy District Five boy, let alone one who few people knew? My opinion doesn't hold any weight to it; in fact I know that nobody would care about me if I died in these Games, and I'm enough of a freak to fail at making any reliable allies. If anything, I'm definitely a lost cause. However, there's something about this situation that makes me actually care about something in my life for once. It's that need for something better than what I've lived with. If I was to survive, then maybe I could light as many candles as I wanted, living my life in shadows and watching the writhing, wriggling waves of fire embedded in wax.

My mentor, Nate I think his name is, has been relentlessly bugging me with questions ever since I got here. He seems friendly, but he's so stupidly annoying that I can't bear with him. I've already smashed a bowl in his general direction, wishing he'd just clear off. I hate questions, and I hate answering them. You'd have thought they'll all have realised that by now, but some for reason they care. Why do they care? In my experience, nobody has ever cared, so why are they doing it now? Why are they worried about a frail little Asian boy like me?

I know my District partner is a bit crazy, but she's not insane. She's different and probably marketable enough to the Capitol to get sponsors. It's not like I care anyway. None of this really matters. Then again, what really does matter to me besides fire? Pyromania, I think they called it. That was my diagnosis in the sanatorium, besides my traumatic childhood. Somehow my obsession with flames is a danger to society as well as myself.

I guess that's true since I set my own Mother on fire just to see its power in action.

I don't care for the Games, and honestly, I don't care much for the other tributes. To me, none of this is really important or unimportant. Indifference, I think it's called. I just have this strange numbness to everything, like I've truly lost the ability to care about something that other people seem to find important. It's that strange buzz I seek; the one that tingles and snakes it way down my spine when I see the flames come alive. In my mind, there is nothing else that matters.

I want to find the fire and to watch it as I fall asleep. I want to watch the flames dance away as I watch the smoke billow into the air. I want to enjoy its orange warmth as it lives and breathes the very oxygen that I do.

Fire, quite simply, is the only thing that matters to me.

It is purity in its greatest form.

Morgana Murray, Fifteen, District Eleven Female

No thought process is pure.

That's why you make a plan.

The droning trumpets of the Capitol's fanfare are any reason for a groan, but in my case, my eyes snap to the screen as soon as I hear the first note. It's a smart thing, planning out what you're going to do, especially in a game of survival. I plan everything, and I underestimate nobody. That's why I'll win.

That's not to say that I'm looking forward to winning of course. I don't really want to kill anyone and if I happen to make friends, I don't really want them to die either. I guess the whole point of that is to not make friends and kill everyone you see, but part of a good Hunger Games survival plan is a good ally. Good allies themselves aren't the easiest to find, especially when you can be stabbed in the back without any warning. You're almost damned if you do and damned if you don't, really.

We've watched the first half of the reapings already, and I'm prepared to sit through the second half, mostly to analyse the rest of the tributes. What would be the point in looking at the first few of your enemies, and not bothering with the others?

District Seven sets the pace for the second half of the reapings. The girl pretty much collapses in a sobbing mess of emotion. I'm not sure if it's real or just an angle. The boy seems like more of a fighter, wrestling with the Peacekeepers and swearing at them violently. Eight brings even more interesting tributes; the girl looks somewhat crestfallen as she's called, but she seems quite determined. The boy looks quite eccentric and reacts with sudden and dramatic surprise…before half jogging up to the stage. The girl from Nine is dead serious and she walked up to the stage. She's twelve and honestly, I'm surprised she has enough balls to not shed a single tear. The boy is older and a little shocked at being called, but strangely and confidently content with it as if he expected to get picked.

District Ten's girl looks flat out floored by being chosen, but every single person in the district square turns to look at her. It's as if all of them know her somehow. The boy kisses two of his fellow district citizens and walks up fairly confidently.

When we get to the District Eleven reapings, I hold my breath.

Most people in outer districts hate training, but my parents always liked the idea of being prepared whenever necessary. I'm very much the same; if you have a plan for a situation then you'll most likely be prepared for it if it happens. In this case, my parents set me up with some basic training in case I was ever put into the Games, which in turn left some of the other people in my district to be a bit confused. See, why would you prepare to die when there's a slim chance of you going in at all?

I watch myself be reaped and the people around me huff a kind of a sigh of relief that I've been chosen, not because they hate me, but because they know I'd have a better shot at surviving than them. I on the other hand was not a fan of being reaped. Just because I planned for the worst-case scenario, it doesn't mean I actually want to be in that scenario, and so I hope someone would step forward to take my place. I should have known not to be so foolish that moment. Who would ever step in for me; a girl who could defend herself better than most could? Back then, my mind thought it was possible. Now, I know that it wasn't.

My District partner, Cleve, is only thirteen. He gave the typical "oh-fuck-I've-been-chosen" look as he was called and shuffled his way up to the stage. It's always a blow to the District when someone on the younger side gets chosen, but what else can you do? Nobody ever wants to be in that position, and often very few people would trade places with those who were sent to the chopping block.

Already, my mind is whirring, cogs turning and interlocking to make a plan. Cleve is probably going to die, but I have a chance. I've got a few tricks up my sleeve and my careful nature could get me out of a lot of sticky situations. If I put my mind to it, I could really get out of here.

District Twelve finishes off the reapings with a confused looking girl and a nervous-looking boy – typical reactions from Twelve from my experience, with the exception of last year's victor. Everyone was surprised when a District Twelve boy was able to survive it all, despite all odds. Very few people from Twelve win, but that dude seemed to be able to do it. He seemed to have a lot on the line, and I know that I do too.

My parents are counting on me to come back to them. I weave wicker baskets part-time for Granny, my employer. She's a lovely old lady, and she always needs help, since her old, knobbed fingers can't always tie the tightest and smallest of knots. But most of all, I have to make it back for my twin brother and sister, Vivienne and Gill. They're only eight, and someone's got to show them the way of the world if anything happened to Mom and Dad. I guess that's the problem with this messed up world. If you're not prepared for anything, you always end up on the bottom. I was raised on hard work and planning, a combination that rarely fails.

I guess, in some sort of sick and twisted way, I'm about to test that theory.

Lewis Coltsfoot, Fifteen, District Twelve Male

The Hunger Games are sick, but here I am.

I'm sitting on a sofa with my district partner, Filla, talking over strategies for the Games with District Twelve's newest mentor. With his dirty blond hair and brown eyes, Luke Coloss was a bit of an underdog in last year's Games, and everyone in Twelve was surprised when he won. I guess every victor wins the Games in their own way, but there's a recipe to their victory – determination. Funnily enough, I'm that kind of guy.

"So," Luke says nervously, breaking me out of my thoughts. "How do you guys feel about the tributes?"

I'm silent for a little while as I take in Luke's obvious nerves. He's only a year older than me, and it must be almost intimidating to mentor tributes who are near enough the same age as you. Plus, Luke's a new mentor. Who knows if he can cope with all the nightmares and problems victors are supposed to have. I once would have shuddered at the thought, but instead, there's a simple, confident smile on my face, like always.

I've always been the kind of person to be positive and confident, but in a healthy way. I'm no idiot, and I'm not arrogant. I'll fight for what I can fight for, and even if I lose, I'll stand up and get ready to go again. That's what you call determination, and this guy, right in front of me, found a way to harness and use that to his advantage. In my book, that makes him worth listening to.

"I think we'll be alright, y'know?" Filla responds, awkwardly chipper and sounding like some kind of radio presenter. "We have the Careers, but everyone else doesn't seem like too much competition just yet."

"We'll need allies," I add in, deciding to take the more realistic route. "We can't take on the careers alone, and we'd need people who are strong enough or smart enough to beat them."

"That's a good approach, Lewis," Luke agrees. "You guys need allies. Allies can make or break you in the Games, and you don't want to play around with them."

Luke's obvious effort at a pun is enough to make me internally cringe, but I can tell he's trying to make us all comfortable, himself included. Filla's an awkward mess, and while I like look on the bright side, I'm not an idiot. I know my limits. That's the Hunger Games for you though. The odds are rarely in anyone's favour, so I'm going to have to work hard if I want any luck to come my way. I guess Luke gives us a little more of a chance of getting some up to date and decent advice.

At least he's here to help us. Some mentors are so braindead that it would be difficult for me to feel any kind of hope for my survival. But that's me; I like keeping a smile when things get tough. Even when all seems lost, a positive attitude can get you far and that foolhardy sense of determination and perseverance can get man people quite far in the Games.

"So…what should we do?" Filla questions, waving her hands around like a windmill.

"I'd recommend watching over the recaps for the reapings," Luke responds slowly. "Pick out any tributes who you think would work well with you and those who you can trust. I wouldn't trust just anybody though. I'd wait until training to make allies since you'll want to feel out the other tributes first. Finding out other tributes' strengths and weaknesses is a basic factor in considering who is safe to fight, and who would beat you in one."

I nod, taking in this advice. I can't let my reckless temper get the best of me. I'll always stand up when I get knocked down, but I should try and be a bit more careful in a situation like this because if I'm not then I'll get killed. Then again, standing up for myself has yielded me with some good friends. Getting close to people has never really been my strong suit, but two of my closest friends came from a fight that I didn't back down from. Ant used to bully Toby before I stepped in. Ant is older than me and stronger than me, but the fact that I'd stood my ground and held my own had won over his respect. Toby is smart, and an easy target for some of the other kids at school, so I've always looked out for him, even after all the times he's told me to stop. Since that day, we've all become good friends.

I hung out with Toby and Ant at school, but now Ant works in the mines, and I like to help him out as well. I've never known how hard some of Twelve has it until I worked in the mines myself. The soul-sucking darkness, combined with the dusty smell of coal…it was a reality I never knew existed. Learning about the poorer part of the District has been valuable knowledge, especially since I never really knew that life before I started working in the mines. I was born to a wealthy family, so life has been a lot easier for me than some people in Twelve. I'm not the closest with Mom and Dad, but they understand that I need to learn about all of the District, no matter how poor or deprived some of the areas may be.

I've always pushed myself to be aware of what's around me, but to also look upon it all with a smile. That's the key to attaining your goals. Never give up and never rest until you achieve what you want. In this case, I have a very obvious goal – to win the Hunger Games like Luke did before me. The question is; will my attitude be enough to help me survive? Can I get away with going for a risk that I know I should take?

I guess that time will come sooner or later.

And that's that, let's go chariot riding! Somehow, that sounded better in my head...

Okay, expect chapters to get temporarily shorter, mostly because the POV count is less. There'll be more detail, and I can focus on less big personalities all vying for my attention at once. Hopefully, I'm showing you that I've still got some of my good ol' writing mojo!

So drop me a chart! Which tributes did you love/like/were nuetral to/dislike? Vanity definitely seems like she's ready to get it over and done with. How did you find her? And what about Shion's obsession with fire? Morgana's a planner, but do you think that will help her or hinder her in the Games? Lewis seems like a driven, determined and cheery kind of guy. Did you like him?

We've met all of our tributes now, so I've set up a general first impressions poll on my profile, please go and vote on it! If there's any confusion about characters and if you need to refresh your memory, just look to the blog. Please vote on the poll! I use a lot of things to determine the order of death in my story, and polls are one of them. It only takes a couple of seconds :)

Stay safe and well; I hope everything is going okay with all of you! I'm desperate to get out for a walk in nature, but I've just been doing so much that I don't always get the opportunity.

Over and out!
~Mental