We're finally here.

I did promise this to drop on Wednesday but then we entered the 503 error minefield and I sat there and thought "you know what, I'll take a rest."
Regardless, I have indeed taken a few days to spend time resting, getting back outside, getting ready for Christmas etc. It's been really good to take a breather. Regarding me updating twice a week...it's pretty speedy, I know! Going forward, I've put a schedule in the announcements section on my profile so you know when I plan to update.

I can't express how happy I am that I came back to this story and told myself that I could do it. So many years ago I saw this story and just felt guilty about it. Never did I think I'd pick this old thing back up again and get it to the bloodbath. Thank you – to all the Discord messages, the PM's, the reviews, everything. You're all amazing ;-;

Thank you to Remus98 and contemporarydancer2 who reviewed!

I know you're rearing to go, so let's do this! Welcome to the bloodbath of Picking Up The Pieces…wow I never thought I'd write those words XD

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

"We all at certain times in our lives find ourselves broken. True strength is found in picking up the pieces." ~Jeremy Shingongo

Luca Fawkes, Twenty-Five, Head Gamemaker

The puzzle fits the pieces.

There are some aspects in everything that have always caught me off guard; the way an unexpected sound can leave tingles down a spine or cause blood to become ice. I can feel such a sensation now. My skin is crawling because somewhere in my head I've convinced myself that this "Finite" character is constantly watching me in everything I do.

Aside from all of the whirring machinery and the buzz of the lights overhead, my mind is torn in so many directions, I would have thought that the fragmented parts of myself would have long drifted into the wastepaper basket. Yet, I watch the bustle of the first day of the Games and remind myself that I made it. My second year as a Head Gamemaker has provided me with many trials, and yet I'm not one to disappoint. It's time to reveal everything I've been working on over the last few months.

Ziphandel, Keira, Maine and Faunon are just a handful of the chattering staff making last-minute preparations, and like the year before, I make my rounds, checking in on each station. Everything has to be just right, because any wrong could land me in hot water. I barely pause at Keira's management of arena design and supplies – she always does a spectacular job. Even now she's conversing hurriedly with the Gamemakers under her command, pinning a lock of pink hair behind her ear as her jade eyes dart from screen to screen. I swoop by Maine's Muttation station and pause there.

"Remember, the form must fit the material, Maine," I remind her. "Increase the surface area of the affliction. What about the Drop phase?"

"The Drop phase is prepared, Luca," Maine informs me. "My technicians have supported the area of concern until the time comes for those supports to be withdrawn."

"Good," I nod. "Make sure that we have everything prepared for when things get too slow. We want a faster Games this year."

"I hear you loud and clear."

"Is that a new buzz cut?" I question, pointing at her new hairstyle; and undercut undyed but designed in the shape of the President's rose.

"You caught me," she smirks, but returns to her station.

My rounds circle to Faunon at Climate Control.

"Fuck!" Faunon curses, moving dials hurriedly. It appears either he or one of his team has made a mistake, knocking the oxygen levels into disproportion.

"Get those O2 levels up," I call to him, and the red-skinned man nods hurriedly. "I'd rather not have a Games where everyone suffocates to death."

Ugh, some of our Gamemakers do have their troubles, but since nobody's messed up yet, I don't have any reason to fire anyone. A full lap of the room eventually brings me to meet with my deputy, Ziphandel. Today, her turquoise hair has been swept back to cascade down by her shoulders.

"We had some trouble getting online," she explains. "But it was just a momentary design flaw in the arena, and we've covered that with external backup systems."

"Alright," I say, concerned. I don't want things to fall apart before they need to. "As long as we can keep the original system up until it's time for the Drop, then the rest of the arena should sustain itself for the most part."

"Right. We've got all of our tributes online, but with the depth of the podiums, I'm concerned about tributes being resourceful and using them to escape."

"That won't be possible," I wave my hand calmly. "The transport chute is designed to retract as soon as all the podiums are securely locked in. I wouldn't be too concerned."

A metallic hiss echoes from behind me, and the soft, meek footsteps of Natalie, announced the arrival of a strong but welcomed smell.

Coffee.

Natalie hands over the cup to me and I take a long sip. Ah well, short term gain for long-term pain, right? Wait, is that the right saying? Whatever.

"Thank you," I inform her, before my phone buzzes for the umpteenth time this morning. It's Finite, I know, sending me threatening voicemails and teasing jabs, waiting to see how quickly I can elude my self-control before I call them back. With this in mind, I withdraw my phone from my blazer and nod to Ziphandel.

"Take over for five minutes?" I ask her.

"I've got you covered."

Good. I like it when people are dependable. Natalie makes to follow me from the room, but I hold up a hand and she bows, staying beside Ziphandel as well. There are some things that staff shouldn't be involved in, and a ploy to wrangle millions of dollars from me is too much information for anyone to know about.

The minute I step out of the room, I'm dialling my voicemail.

Hello and welcome to your voicema-

I punch in the number three, an option to play all existing voicemails. I'm tired of hearing automated voices, I need to hear Finite's instead to listen to whatever the hell they want. Am I giving Finite the money? No way. I'm guessing the incessant voicemails are confirmation that Finite got the message.

"Luca Fawkes," a warbled sigh comes through the mobile. "Truly I thought generosity would precede you. Why don't you just pay up and we can sort this amicably?"

Ugh. Next message.

"C'mon Luca, you shouldn't make me wait. I do know how much you value your pathetic little family. Isn't your Mother in hospital? Why don't I pay her a glorious visit?"

Asshole. Next message.

"Hi, this is Rosemary's pizza, we bake it, you take it!" an operator says. "The delivery of your twelve-inch pepperoni wasn't accepted because you weren't at your residence last night. Please can you call back to confirm your details?"

Goddammit I forgot about that pizza.

Next message.

"Ignoring my calls, are we?" Finite hums. "Well it's a shame, but clearly the level of disrespect means that you're not interested in keeping the peace. I may have to resort to…alternative methods."

Oh no. Next message.

"President Snow always holds a few parties. Wouldn't it be a shame if I crashed one of them and gave you a sweet little message? Yes, I think we'll do that. Until we meet again, Mr Fawkes, until we meet again."

Shit.

I'm quick to hang up, rubbing my temple and feeling the soft bristles of my golden hair stroke the tips of my fingers. Aside from pizza and Gamemakers, veiled threats and open ones, life is really throwing me for a loop right now. I take a few moments to compose myself, focusing on the feeling of my brogues as they sink into the lavish carpet beneath them. In a world of voices, the hall outside of the Gamemaker's hub only brings me silence. Will Finite really turn up at a party to speak to me? Will I be meeting this rogue in person over some sketchy money deal? I've never been about this, and I'm not likely to change now. I don't see how I could get out of it either, considering such conventions are things I must attend.

Slotting the mobile phone back into the pocket of my blazer, I'm reminded of the dagger on my person. The blade of the knife gently rubs up against my ribs as I head back into the control room.

Even if it all goes wrong, at least I know I can defend myself.

Morgana Murray, Fifteen, District Eleven Female

I need to defend myself.

Weapons first, join the careers, kill a few kids. It's not my ideal start to the Hunger Games, but I have to make my mark and make sure that the audience know I'm not playing around. For the meantime, I'll wait and wait and wait. I'm confident that my podium has been rising for a few minutes now, and since then I've been bathed in shadowy darkness, confined in a small space with only the ominous clinking of the mechanisms beneath me, propelling me upwards.

If I was claustrophobic, I'd be in hell right now.

Finally, my world grows lighter and my body rises into the light to display…oh wow, a lot of colour. Chive had mentioned to me about the arena being up high, but she didn't mention its beauty, as twisted as that may be. Suddenly, it makes a lot of sense as to why my arena outfit is so colourful, because I'll easily be able to blend in.

A landscape of glass stretches out before me, translucent yet foggy in its quality, with a tinted glass cornucopia supplied with rows upon rows of iron and steel. Light bounces off the exterior, a curious glow making for a tempting destination. Bags and smaller weapons litter the expanse of the area, an invitation to leap into the fray of the oncoming bloodbath. I don't notice it at first, but peering beneath the glass forces my legs to wobble for a second. Chive was right to say that we're really high up. If anyone fell from this arena, they'd be a goner.

All around us, there are more glass landscapes, spiralling both upward and downward, moving slowly in a circle. These platforms are like immense payettes, ranging from hues of crimson or emerald, some holding trees or stone housing, others holding ponds and small greens. All of them are pieces in an ornate puzzle, floating around each other, some connected by zipwires or glass staircases, others floating on their own. As a fuchsia payette moves above me, it reveals rows upon rows of these payettes, ending with a golden one right at the top, tiny in view from here, but likely to be incredible up close.

A glass spiral, a disjointed puzzle…

60.

The countdown begins across from me, red numbers starting at one minute. I mentally prepare myself to get ready, catching the eyes of my allies. Aisha nods at me from afar and I nod back.

59…58…57…56…55…54…53…52…51…50…

Orion regards me quietly from my left and we lock eyes. We're running forward together, as a team. Adira is four pedestals to my right, ready to spring, while Austin is just within my field of vision before its warped by the cornucopia's curved glass. I can make out Vanity's build through the glossy surface, and Landon is three pedestals to the right of Adira, already covered in a sheen of sweat and looking as white as a sheet. I wonder why that is.

49…48…47…46…45…44…43…42…41…40…

The girl from Ten casts a regretful look over to her District partner, who's watching the girl from Five with disdain. The girl from Five is focused on running in to the cornucopia.

39…38…37…36…35…34…33…32…31…30…

The boy from Nine and the girl from Nine exchange tense looks before the boy from Eleven looks across to the boy from Six.

29…28…27…26…25…24…23…22…21…20…

The boy from Eight is practically dancing on his podium, looking almost excited to start running, while the boy from Twelve is serious. The boy from Three mutters under his breath.

19…18…17…16…15…14…13…12…11…10…

The boy from Seven looks uncomfortable, while the girl from Six looks worried. I would be, if I were them. They're either going to meet their end or they're going to be running for their lives. Part of me feels glad I've allied with the Careers.

9…

I settle into a stance, my muscles coiled and ready to spring forwards.

8…

Landon's still deathly pale.

7…

The girl from Three peers down the line at the girl from Seven.

6…

The boy from Five, deathly silent, rocks to and fro.

5…

My eyes lock on to a roll of three throwing knives about fifteen metres from me. Easy weapons, easy targets. I can make my first move there.

4…

I bend my knees, getting ready.

3…

I am Morgana Murray, I can do this. I can show the world what I'm made of.

2…

I can, I will!

1…

I'm ready.

The gong sounds and I'm right off my pedestal. I speed towards the roll of throwing knives, skidding across the glass and scooping the roll up in my hands, rolling over and springing back up again, running right for the cornucopia. Grabbing a knife from the roll, I send the first one flying to the first person I see. A crop of red hair is my target, and the knife whizzes towards the boy from Eight, but only nicks his arm. He snatches up a switchblade, a roll of throwing knives, and a couple of medium-sized bags, running off. I'll leave him.

Another blur grabs my attention; the girl from Five, her hair fanning out behind her as she nimbly runs to the side of the cornucopia and snatches up a roll of kunais and a backpack. Fortunately for her, the other Careers are busy right now. Fortunately for me, I can see her. I send the first knife right towards the girl as she comes running towards me, but she uses the side of her backpack to block the hit. I can see Adira grabbing a bow and notching an arrow, but I want this kill. My final knife leaves my hands as it soars towards her, but Izzy falls to her knees, sliding against the glass awkwardly, allowing the knife to pass over her head.

As the girl stands up, I watch in horror as the spinning knife flies directly towards my own ally and catches her squarely in the middle of her forehead.

Adira doesn't say much. She just falls backwards onto the glass, red splattering as she falls, unmoving.

I'm so paralysed by the shock that I barely register my accidental betrayal before someone's hand clamps over my mouth from behind, and a small, sharp knife slices open my neck.

So much for an ideal start.

Isabella "Izzy" Moire, Sixteen, District Five Female

The boy from Four cuts open the neck of the girl from Eleven right in front of me.

Well, shit.

Move, Izziot!

My own thoughts yell at me, echoes from the past. For a second, I'm that hated girl again, pushed to the side of the streets in Five, small stones digging into my palms painfully as I find myself in the dirt once again. The other kids always laughed and ran off, busy being the popular, cool kids with too many friends to count.

Move!

My body moves without me knowing, running away from the boy as he tosses the Eleven girl's body to the floor like something to discard. What was his name again? Orion, wasn't it? I don't look back to see if he's coming after me, focused getting out of here with the supplies I've grabbed from the cornucopia. I feel one of my legs twitch violently as I run, causing me to stumble slightly, only for me to regain my footing.

Somewhere in the raging sea of chaos, I spot Leigha over by a glass staircase, urging the others to follow her. I don't see Lenore or Ashton, but I can tell that they're running away too, desperate to escape the cold arms of impending death.

"Come on, we need to go!" Leigha cries, her eyes alight with terror.

I don't blame her for hating the scene; it's madness. Even after everything I've fought for and been through, I've never witnessed a massacre like this. Bouncing up the steps, I twitch as I weigh up our options. I notice that things really aren't that bad, spotting Ashton and Lenore coming to a stop beside us. Lenore's grazed her cheek, and Ashton's got a rip along the side of his arena outfit, but both of them look okay…well, as okay as you can look after almost getting murdered by other kids your own age. From the corner of my eye, the girl from Two tries to pin down the boy from Nine with a net-like contraption but misses him.

Leigha ushers us up the staircase in a panic.

I've always sensed there was some kind of undercurrent to Leigha, but she's always been so composed. Clearly, there's something about this moment that has forced her to face the facts rather than hide behind a mask. Probably the fear of getting murdered, y'know, just a random guess. Collectively, there's no doubt that we're all in agreement about getting as far away from the cornucopia as possible. Darting up another staircase, we take the fastest route ahead, moving up a few payettes, but still being able to see the ongoing scene below in a warped image that makes it all the more disturbing.

Despite this, I pucker up a smile.

"Hey, we're all alive!" I sing positively, attempting a move at jazz hands, a twitch just making them wilder.

Leigha and Ashton don't really react, but Lenore gives me a smile. I instantly perk up at this. Any difference is still a difference, no matter how small. It's crazy how the girl forced to pick between alliances is so willing to be a part of this team, despite previous loyalties. I did question it at first, but I can tell that Lenore's genuinely a good person and wants to help where she can. She was just stuck in a bad situation.

"I'm so glad we're out of there," Leigha breathes, clearly relieved. "I thought someone might have caught me and I would've died."

"It's inevitable, you know," Lenore reminds us. "People are going to die, and they have to in order for someone to win this."

Ashton raises an eyebrow at Lenore.

"How are you so calm about this?" he asks.

"Undertaker's daughter, remember?" Lenore responds. "Death doesn't faze me. It's not pretty, but it's a fact of life. In that sense, what we've witnessed here today is going to become our new normal until only one of us is alive."

"Let's not dwell on that," Leigha notes.

I look down through the tinted glass, spotting the bloodbath continuing at a distance below us. The girl from Four tracks down Leigha's district partner, Geoni, tossing throwing star after throwing star at him. The sharp projectiles make a clear line-up Geoni's side until he topples to the ground, screaming. The girl from Four wastes no time in walking up to him, ripping three of her stars out of him before flicking them back into his throat. I shudder slightly and avert my eyes. Already the images are flashing through my mind; the Eleven girl's knife soaring centimetres from my face, Orion slitting her throat, Geoni and the throwing stars…

I make a mental note not to tell Leigha that her district partner just died.

I know she wasn't the closest to him, but it's hard to imagine Leigha not caring about it. Leigha is, well, Leigha. Naturally, my winning smile has won her over, but she can be down on herself sometimes. She's careful, and rightly so, but I'm working on her confidence. A lifetime of being laughed at means that I couldn't care less about what people think of me and Leigha appears to have experienced the opposite. I eye Ashton as he unzips his backpack. He's a blank slate for me. I don't know an awful lot about him other than the fact he's from Seven and he's helpful. Okay, sure, I don't really know any of these people properly, but now that we've escaped the bloodbath, we've got plenty of time to become well-acquainted.

But not too well-acquainted.

I wince at the thought of having to kill any of my allies, but I disguise it as a twitch before anyone catches on. Fortunately, nobody's looking, laying out their supplies. All together, we got a few coils of wire, packets of dried fruits, pieces of bread, some cheese, three empty water bottles, some iodine and a folded tarpaulin.

Leigha got a spear, and with my roll of twelve kunais, we're stocked for weapons. Lenore pulls a faded red switchblade from her pack, while Ashton's got his hand on a serrated dagger.

"So Izzy, what was that move you made earlier?" Ashton questions me, interested.

"Oh, the ducking under the knife thing?" I laugh off the interest. "I don't know, I just kind of reacted and hope that I wouldn't get a knife in my neck. I didn't!"

I twitch again, and Ashton's eyes flicker to the source of it; my elbow. It's barely noticeable, but my sharp eyes catch the movement, although I don't mention it. I've noticed him doing that a couple of times since we've first met, and I do wonder if he thinks I'm just another stupid girl, ready to be killed off in the Hunger Games. People tend to judge me quickly, so I wouldn't be surprised if he's the same story. Unfortunately for him, I'm completely the opposite. Just because I'm weird and twitchy, it doesn't mean I'm an easier target. I'll prove him wrong if I have to.

"We've got a fair amount of stuff here," Ashton comments thoughtfully, changing the subject. "But we should probably get moving."

"Woo!" I cheer lightly. "We survived the bloodbath. C'mon, let's get the hell outta here."

As we hurriedly re-pack our bags, I cast a look over my shoulder once more and regret it. Geoni's body is still lying there, drenched in his own dark blood. As cold as the thought is, I'm determined not to become him.

I've got to show them all that I'm better than what they think I am.

Austin Ogara, Eighteen, District One Male

I'm better than this.

They all tell you that the bloodbath takes its time, but it really doesn't. Back in the training academy, a lot of the trainers have this almost romantic idea about how half the tributes will be powerless to stop you from killing them, and that they're not quick to run away. I was told that I'd have blood rolling off my spear and a legion of loving sponsors, but right now I'm questioning if that's real too. If eighty-one years of the Hunger Games has taught Panem anything, it's how fast their children could run.

I don't blame them.

I mean, duh, of course, you'd run if your life depended on it. It just makes the job harder for me. With three tributes down and everyone beginning to leave the bloodbath, the time to make my mark is running out…or is it? A spear in my hand, I run the perimeter of the foggy payette holding the glass cornucopia, my feet moving dully against the glass, stained with scratches and dirty fingerprints. Two girls are currently picking up a couple of packs and getting ready to run off. I instantly recognise the cold girl from Seven and her ally, the girl from Three. Seven's a definite threat, and it would be a good idea to take her out early. I see the girl from Seven look up to meet my eyes, and her face goes as white as a sheet. She's shitting herself.

My icy stare can send anyone's heart into double-time.

Usually, I'd seduce someone, but I'm not here to flirt with people who'll want me dead, as fun as that would be. Instead, they're easy targets and easy kills. The girl from Seven grabs her ally and pushes her ahead of her, beginning to run after her. I grimace, noting their desperation. My heart pangs for their wishes to survive, and a part of me likes to acknowledge that guilt there. It's a reminder that I'm still human.

As they make my move, my strong legs quicken, my eyes narrowed on my targets. While the girls are quick to make a move, I'm much faster, and before I know it, I'm closing the distance, and fast. Twenty metres, fifteen, ten...

I pull back my arm as I run, noting the glinting head of my spear as I angle the weapon at the two girls. With all my strength, I throw the weapon forwards, my arm jolting painfully as I throw it as hard and as fast as I can. I come to a stop as my shoulder throbs, watching as the spear shoots forward and flies straight through not just one, but both of the girls necks. The spear stops part way through, effectively skewering the duo and holding their bodies together. For a second they sway, blood splattering from their throats in messy spurts, red spraying gruesomely ahead of them. The Seven girl make a feeble attempt at trying to remove herself from the spear as the Three girl merely shudders. It's barely a moment before they both kind of fall into each other, toppling to one side. I hide my distaste with a small smirk, leaving the spear in their bodies for the cameras. It's not a pretty sight, but it'll be a memorable one.

I waste no time in heading back across the platform to the others, where everyone else has virtually vanished, except for the retreating backs of an alliance of boys. I remember their ringleader, the boy from Ten. Dathan, his name was. The other Careers had laughed at his argument with his district partner, the creepy one from Ten and that twitchy brunette from Five. Lagging behind, however, is the boy from Three, trying to haul a sword after him. Vanity is the closest, running after them with confidence and grace. The hyperactive kid from Eight throws a knife or two at her, but she manages to evade them, his attack on her only wanting to return the favour.

Something drops from her hand, and I can't stop myself from smiling, impressed.

Vanity used bolas a couple of times during training, and she didn't dedicate a lot of focus to them. It's clear that she didn't need to brush up on her skills. With a strong grip on the black cord, Vanity starts swinging the bola like a natural. Finally, she lets it go, the weights flying to the boy from Three and wrapping around his legs, leaving him to topple over.

Aisha and Orion are hot on Vanity's heels, and Dathan is smart enough not to let any of his allies stop to help the poor kid. Spinning a tomahawk, Vanity takes no time in watching the guy struggle, embedding the thick blade deep into the back of his head.

The kid goes limp. The job is done.

I let loose a tense sigh, looking over at Landon and giving him a cold nod. Landon waits a second before nodding hesitantly back, covered in sweat.

"What's up with you?" I ask him. "You kind of froze up just then. Getting cold feet?"

Landon scoffs and looks away. His head is turned away from me, but I'm just about able to make out his response.

"I hate tight spaces," he mutters. "That's all."

Ah the podium. I note. Rising up through the darkness with not a lot of space isn't my idea of heaven either, and for someone like that, the long trip up to the podium probably triggered something uncomfortable in him. I feel kinda bad for the poor guy. I know how good he was in training, but to the Capitol it might have looked like he choked. I don't give him any kind of reply purely because, well, I don't know how to. Vanity knows Landon best, and even then she mentioned that they've hardly spoken. It looks like him and Orion appear to have a semi-permanent mute button.

I make myself busy, gathering the weapons and bags around the payette and organising them inside of the cornucopia. We've easily got enough supplies to last us for the entire Games, but I know well enough that they'd draw us out if we stayed here. Like every year, we'll have to go on a hunt soon. Six deaths isn't the most satisfying of bloodbaths, and the Capitol will no doubt be desperate for more action.

A twinkling sound grabs my attention.

At first it's just the one, but then the chiming becomes a chorus of musical wonder, sponsor gifts floating down upon the five of us. Reaching up, I grab mine from the air and walk a short distance away. If Sorin and Royce have advice for me, I don't want anyone seeing it. Opening the silvery casket, a mouth-watering smell washes over me. Fresh bread from One, still slightly warm from the batch, lies against a bed of paper. Moving the bread, I open the slip of paper to read a message, hoping for a congratulations.

What it says doesn't exactly fill me with joy.

Don't trust the others. Their mentors see you as a threat.

Dathan Corvair, Seventeen, District Ten Male

As six cannons sound, my heart threatens to wither and die.

Parker.

Dammit, of course it had to be him! Last night I'd kissed him, pushing him towards opening up and exploring himself, and only a short while ago we left him to die. If only I hadn't been so impulsive as to run into the action of the bloodbath, I could have focused more on protecting my allies. Lewis and Shura are fine, and we got some supplies, but at the cost of Parker. Somehow I feel like I've made some kind of grave error, some kind of foolish mistake that I was too reckless to think about.

"Stop ruminating over it," Lewis says, watching me from the other side of a large backpack. "You know we all did what we could. Who could have known that the girl from Two can use those swinging things?"

"Bolas," I prompt him. "They're called bolas. They're usually used on horseback, but are mainly good for ensnaring animals."

I read about a lot of things, and this is just another fact that's in my memory. I've pored over books of weaponry, entered into the world of complicated philosophy, and maintained the passion and love for romance and all of it can be applied somewhere. Even so, my knowledge of all of this doesn't help the fact that Parker is gone, nor that fact that I didn't expect it to hurt. Shura slings one of his skinny arms around my shoulders, grinning at me, clearly trying to lighten my spirits.

"Don't ya worry," he smirks. "I'll be catching you with one of those, if you know what I mean."

I let out a chuckle, while Lewis shakes his head and berates him, a smile creeping up to his face.

"Smooth," Lewis laughs. "Real smooth."

At this point, I can't help but let out a laugh, letting Shura cuddle in to me. It's kinda sweet, even though I have Uriah and Reine back at home. If Shura had been in my district though, I wouldn't have minded making our thruple a quartet. There's a beauty to sharing love between more than one person, and together, Uriah and Reine have made such a sustained impact on my life that I truly don't think I'd be the person I am today without them. Even thinking of them now sets my heart aflame, a burning desire to see them again, to hold them close and thank the world for bringing them back to me.

That's not happening though.

First, I've got to make it through another seventeen tributes, including my allies, to make it to the end. I'm smart, and I'm strong, but I know that brains and brawn don't always win the Games. Allies, numbers, luck and sponsors are all part of a strategy, Gamemaker actions too. No matter how gifted anyone may be, the odds are still stacked high against them. It's a sad reality, really, but I guess I'm going to have to get used to it if I'm going to get out of here.

Finally, I bring myself away from wallowing in guilt. I have to focus on moving on.

"Right, so what supplies do we have?" I question.

"Well, we've got your hammer, a few throwing knives, and a short sword. Add that with some general food supplies, and we should be okay for the first couple of days," Lewis explains. "Any longer than that, and we'll need to go hunting."

"If it's anything like last year, we're going to be sitting back and waiting," Shura winks, grinning. "Plenty of time to get to know each other and to cause some trouble around here, huh?"

I nod, an idea forming in my mind.

"Maybe we can find some way to mess with the Careers or something," I suggest. "We've got to make sure they're out of our way, at least until we can pick them off or get them to turn on themselves."

"Are you sure we want to do that?" Lewis questions. "Parker just got axed, and I don't want to end up the same way either."

I don't mind about the bluntness of Lewis' words, but the mention of Parker stings. Lewis watches my reaction and gives me an apologetic look.

"Sorry," he says hurriedly. "Sometimes I just say stuff how it is."

I know they're hurting too, but both Shura and Lewis know that we have to move on. I need to make sure to do that too.

"It's fine," I respond, ignoring my emotions. "I can be the same sometimes. My partners are used to it back home."

"It must be nice, having someone," Shura sighs dramatically. "If only I had a sweet soul to take me away~"

I push him over roughly, laughing, and Shura cackles along with me, being bowled over. Lewis just flat out facepalms.

"I give up," he mutters. "I honestly give up."

We pack up our supplies and make a move, determined not to be caught again by the Careers before nightfall. There are hundreds of these glass payettes, all spiralling upwards in various shapes and sizes, pieces in a hanging puzzle. It's almost as if each section is holding its breath, just waiting to slot into place. With every new piece, there's a new spectacle. Some are forested areas with huts or ponds. Others are ornate rooms with impressive tapestries or demonstrations of minute but incredible architecture. My mind is almost overwhelmed by the incredible construction that's gone into the arena, as horrible as it is to be inside of it.

We eventually make it far enough to stop by a small pen filled with wheat, hiding towards the back side of the platform, using it as cover for any potentially prying eyes. It's far enough away from anyone that they'd only likely find us by chance. I would happily fall asleep, but up so high in the air, the wind is breezy and I'm on edge. It was almost static during the bloodbath, but now that we've split up, the Gamemakers are playing with the elements, altering their methods to mess around with us, to send us into a deep sense of unease.

Leaving Lewis and Shura to settle down, I keep my eyes open, ready for any signs of attack.

For Uriah and Reine, I'll do this.

I'll do anything.

Barric Roland, Sixteen, District Nine Male

I'd do anything to turn back time.

Aline's eerily silent, and Cleve is stoically sad, the both of them not having spoken all that much since the bloodbath finished. We weren't able to meet up with Geoni, but I saw the scene. I saw the girl from Four cut in to my ally and as much as we all wanted to run in and help, we knew that we'd only get ourselves killed. I almost got caught by the girl from Two, but I got lucky. So, here we sit, as supplied as we can be, stewing in the breezy quietness of the oncoming night.

Death is a horrible occurrence, I've decided. I don't want such a fate to ever befall me, and I know for a fact that I must take care of myself. Of course, I make the smartest decisions by making some allies, young ones at that, ones who I feel I have to protect. It's this constant pull between two differing directions, with no set ending and no real intelligence to go on. How can I even begin to think of my options when both my head and my heart are so obviously conflicted? I've always been a provider, but when it matters the most I still question my most basic instincts.

The anthem begins and makes both Cleve and Aline jump.

The first face to appear is the girl from One, a somewhat gentle expression on her face. I'm surprised that she went so early. I didn't see much of the action, but I'm shocked that she was the first to fall. Maybe there were tensions in the Career pack that I didn't know about? Both of the tributes from Three follow her, their faces in the sky as well. I didn't know much about the duo, but they each had their own alliances.

The unfortunate reality of the Hunger Games is that even if you watch them, there's still plenty of questions.

Geoni appears next. Cleve looks away and Aline's jaw clenches, but I force myself to look at his face, reminding myself of the reality of the Games. Will my face end up in the sky like his? Will Cleve's? Aline's? The image burns itself into my mind, almost as if I can imagine haunting the hidden corners of every one of my future dreams. Such a simple image of a smiling kid puts a weight on my heart that I just can't express. The girl from Seven is shown and I make a note of that. Her and the girl from Three were allies. The final face to appear is the girl from Eleven. Another Career ally. Okay, something definitely happened. I try to flick through all of my memories of previous Games, trying to solve unknown riddles or occurrences that could have happened, but there are too many options to consider.

I have to be smart about this.

A majority of the tributes this year have allies, but there are four larger packs of tributes. Our alliance has taken a hit with the loss of Geoni, but it's the same story with the group of boys - Dathan, Shura and Lewis. They've lost someone too. There there's Lenore, Izzy and their group. I'm the most wary about the Careers. How are they going to play it this year? They seem a closer knit group than last years pack, and I can bet any amount of money that they're likely to start hunting very soon. Thankfully, I foresaw that and went to a payette that I'd like to think was more out of the way than most.

Even with two Careers down, there's still five of them.

I need to raise our morale. I can tell Cleve and Aline feel disheartened at losing Geoni, but we have to move on. Even with these feelings of guilt, I have to push us forwards, hoping that we get going and survive for as long as we possibly can.

"We don't want to be like him," I say, breaking the silence. "I know you're both upset but…this is how it's going to end up. We either fight, or we die. We'll avoid everyone else for as long as we can, but eventually we're going to have to fight someone. Okay?"

Aline shifts her weight and nods, doing her best to remain composed.

"Geoni was sweet," she comments, sounding wiser than her age suggests. "But I agree. We must remain calm, even in the middle of all of this."

"It's a fact of life," Cleve shrugs. "I knew the Hunger Games was a thing but I guess it's really as bad as they say it is."

Neither of them sound sure of themselves. That's to be expected, though.

"I'm not going to sugarcoat it for you," I warn them. "I have a brother and a sister back home, around your ages. I tell it to them how I see it, and I'm going to treat the two of you the same."

"I prefer it that way," Cleve notes maturely. "I'd rather know the truth than have it hidden from me."

"Starting tomorrow, we'll keep training, and keep moving," I decide. "Chat about lives back home, and I'll tell you all I know about the Hunger Games."

"You know the Hunger Games?" Aline asks, doubtful.

"I've watched a fair few of them," I admit. "It's mostly for tactical reasons. Every victor won somehow, some way. If my siblings got reaped, we wanted to be prepared for what could happen."

Aline doesn't comment on this, but I know it surprises her. Cleve's face is pressed into a line; he doesn't exactly approve either. It's not a glamourous idea, no, but I guess a part of me knew I'd have to prepare. I might have died in that bloodbath if I hadn't.

"I know watching the Games a hundred times doesn't always make a victor," I acknowledge. "But it's the best we've got."

Aline shares a look with Cleve and the duo nod to each other. Lifting her small palm and patting my arm, Aline sighs.

"If it's a chance, then it's worth taking."

"I'd rather live than die," Cleve adds. "I don't see any use in not trying to be prepared for what might happen."

I smile at what they have to say. I know it can't be easy to face something like this when you're so young. But if you don't, you pay your price. The wind is cool across my neck as I utter words into the darkness, a confirmation of our new plan.

"Then let's get one of us home in one piece."

Adira Linett, Eighteen, District One Female – Oh Adira, where do I begin? You were complicated in so many ways and brilliantly beautiful in your home life and your relationship with your family and Liana. Unfortunately, your own insecurities paired with an unfortunate idea I had in mind made you more or less of a shock death for me. Once I had that idea, I could never really get it out of my head. I could have taken Adira in so many different directions, and I know I probably could have done her justice by creating a story for her and how she could have found more confidence in herself and what lessons she could have learnt to stop doubting herself. Thank you Cloe, for sending her in. She was brilliant. Knife to the head by Morgana Murray. Placed 24th.

Morgana Murray, Fifteen, District Eleven Female – Morgana was quite someone, and for me, she was the perfect orchestrator to kill off Adira. She was smart yet soft, clever yet friendly, and all of that was hidden away under a determined mask. Morgana did have a lot of potential, and despite the fact that she was likely to be a career whichever way I would have written her, it was this end I decided upon. Unfortunately, killing one of your own career allies is kind of a thing you don't do, even accidentally. It made sense for her to fall. Thank you, xxbookwormmockingjayxx for submitting her! There was a time when I thought she'd go further, but I liked this storyline better. May she rest in peace. Throat slit by Orion Trent.Placed 23rd.

Geoni Proctor, Thirteen, District Six Male – Geoni was sweet, nerdy and totally adorable. Nrrd-Grrl-Meg, I really appreciate you sending him in! His smarts combined with his youth made him more of a mind-weapon tribute and in my mind, he was easy pickings at the bloodbath for those thirsty careers. Usually, I like a good old tribute who knows their way around a person, but the more I thought about it, the more Geoni didn't fit into that narrative. He was smart, but he was good, and certainly not the type to try and outwit other tributes. Despite it all though, he got himself some allies and had some happy moments before he was killed. I hope I did him justice for you, Meg! Stabbed repeatedly by Aisha Cain. Placed 22nd.

Nova Lupin, Sixteen, District Seven Female – Nova was someone I was actually planning on taking further, but I felt that it would be difficult to properly explore her inner emotional shell in comparison to her outer colder one. At one point, I did consider her going on an emotional rampage and killing a few tributes (including Naydene, oof) and maybe even making it back home twice as twisted as she was when she came in. I think it would have been really cool to see how a darker version of Nova could have changed this story in so many ways. As you can see though, I decided to take her story along this route instead. Cloudy, thank you for submitting her. Skewered by Austin Ogara. Placed 21st.

Naydene Carmello, Sixteen, District Three Female – Okay so Naydene was awesome. Her optimism and her way of the world made her a great character, but also a difficult one to write. Naydene really tested my ability to write someone so seamlessly positive, yet so brilliantly brilliant. She wasn't your typical upbeat girl, she had so many layers of personality that it was really interesting to put myself in her mind. The idea of Nova dying and leaving Naydene all alone wasn't something that made a lot of sense to me, so I felt that both of them going out at the same time was a nod to their sweet interactions. Tom, thanks for sending her in, she was great! I'm glad I can finally put her to rest instead of in a summary lmao. Skewered by Austin Ogara. Placed 20th.

Parker Lidell, Seventeen, District Three Male – Nate, I'm sorry. Parker was also another tribute who I originally thought could have made it further. His conspiracies mixed with his need to sin – that would have made a cool storyline of him indulging in the idea of murder and then entertaining that idea, almost like a cultist for the martian he thought he was being sacrificed to. I really think that I could have explored a line of morality and a discussion over ethics with Parker's character. That and I also could have had him wrestle with his humanity against his desire to be sinful. However, this arc was beaten out by some of my other plans, and Parker ended up in my group of bloodbaths, sadly. Axe to the head by Vanity Genot. Placed 19th.

Before you read my A/N, I have an announcement to make! If you haven't noticed already, I've released a new SYOT! It's called Borrowed Time. Please do go and read it and consider if you'd like to submit to that story. Ah, don't worry about this story, I've got that handled. We'll be close to finishing by the time Borrowed Time begins properly. Thank you so much for all of your support! :D

Phew! 6 POV's, 8k words…I haven't done a chapter like that for a long time. I know that's a cakewalk to some, but let a guy breathe okay? ;)

Wow, so in this chapter, we got an arena made of glass (not stone, hm, where will that come in?) and we lost a few of our tributes. Aw, don't you worry about the fun being over, there's more death in the next chapter. More death? Oh yes!

Okay so allies and kills – I'm putting them on the blog, but if you want me to update you on here as well then I don't mind, just let me know! I have made some changes on there in general as well as adding the new details. I'll put the current bits and bobs in the next chapter too if you like. Also if you have nicknames for any of the alliances, I'd be happy to add them in!

Luca's preparations mean unanswered voicemails! What do you think Finite will do to Luca at the party?
Morgana's played this out well, or has she? What did you think of her death?
Izzy, get out of there. Are you glad their alliance survived the bloodbath?
Austin and his epic stunts certainly made quite a spectacle. How do you think the Career pack will fare in the Games?
Dathan reflects on the loss of Parker. Do you think this trio still have some fight left in them?
Barric, looking out for Cleve and Aline. Do you think he'll fight for them, or for himself?

Well, that's it for now, stay tuned for what comes next. :D

Over and out!
~Mental