Pre-Reapings

Evi Tolbert, 17, District 8 Female

Evi runs her fingers through her hair, pretending to consider the man's meager offer. It's not that she's expecting something better to come along, but she doesn't want Cadell thinking she is happy with the proposal either. It's always best to make people feel like they're doing her a favour, even when it's the other way around. That's something she's learned over the years.

"One more night wouldn't be awful," Evi says with a sigh, looking around the modest home with some disappointment. Last night was not the first she's spent with Cadell, in fact she rarely goes a month without ending up here. The older man is kind, but not exactly Evi's style. The life he tries to offer her every once in a while is not nearly enough for her tastes. She has her sights set on a much higher prize but for now he and his house will do.

Despite spending the last few years without more than a few dollars to her name, Evi has never lost sight of her goals. She lost her family years ago and spent time in the sad excuse for a foster system up until she turned fifteen. That's when her life truly began even though at the time it felt like it was ending. After so many years of being made to feel helpless, Evi refuses to be looked down upon by anyone again. She will have the life she's always wanted someday, but until then she will make do with what's offered to her.

Cadell chuckles and bends down to kiss her on the cheek. Evi leans into it, winking at him as he pulls away and watching his cheeks redden. There are so many men and women like Cadell in District 8, either widowed or single, and they're all the pretty much the same. All they want is someone to pretend to care, even if deep down they know it's an act. Evi is more than happy to fill this role as long as they treat her right. Cadell's never raised a hand to her, but some others have tried. That did not end well for them at all.

"I'd like to go to the square," Evi announces, standing and patting down the wrinkled fabric of her blouse. When she's around, Cadell insists she wear anything she likes from his ex-wife's wardrobe. The woman had lovely taste, though she was more heavyset than Evi. Still, the feeling of the soft fabric against her skin is something she craves after months wearing the same sun-bleaches pieces.

Caldell nods and Evi stares at him a moment longer. Finally, he understands and takes a thin wallet from his back pocket. He pulls a few bills out and places them in her hand. Evi takes them swiftly and rewards him with a quick kiss. She's already out the door before he can decide whether he wants to join her.

The walk to the square is filled with people heading to and from work, their hurried paces giving them away. Evi steps lightly, enjoying the fact that she has nowhere to be and pitying the people who work for hours only to afford the life that she's given freely. If all goes as planned, she'll never have to work a day in her life. She wonders why anyone would, when some people give away their hard-earned money for little more than a peck on the cheek. Some might say she is living an unsavory lifestyle, but Evi would say they're just idiotic and jealous.

Delias Vayne, 18, District 2 Male

Delias trudges behind Lyam and Arlette, far enough away that a passerby might not realize they are actually walking together. Arlette and his cousin chatter on, training bags swinging form their shoulders and not a care in the world between them. Delias clutches the handle of his own bag tightly. It's only a couple of days until the reaping ceremony and his entire life changes. Delias tries to remind himself that it will change for the better, but that doesn't fill the pit that continues to widen in his stomach.

"Hey, cousin," Lyam laughs, turning around to face him. Delias looks up with a frown, not unusual for the rather stoic teenager. He doesn't have high expectations for any conversation that Lyam will want to involve him in. "What are the odds you actually make it back here, eh? Arlette's saying one in five but I think one in twenty-four makes more sense."

Arlette gives him a sheepish smile, but Delias' expression does not change. He simply shrugs in response and Lyam smirks, turning back to Arlette. "He's never been good at math, or most subjects."

The two trainees turn back to their conversation leaving Delias behind once again. He prefers it this way in all honestly. It would be so much easier to go unnoticed, at least for the next few days as he concentrates on the upcoming ceremony. However, his cousin seems to have a knack for including Delias just enough to humiliate him before turning his nose up at him once again. On many occasions Delias has considered standing up for himself, but he knows that this would only end in more ridicule. At least if he stays silent Lyam won't mock him for his words.

Delias is the last to enter the gymnasium after passing through the change rooms. It's early in the day and there aren't nearly as many trainees now as there will likely be in a few hours. Lyam and Arlette are talking to one of the trainers, but Delias doesn't make any move towards them. As his uncle has told him many times, distractions of any sort are unacceptable in the gymnasium. Besides, today is going to be a long enough day without bringing Lyam along. Delias is supposed to join Aristona, his future district partner, for a joint training session. It's something new his uncle is trying out this year and Delias has been dreading it all morning.

He sees Aristona across the room talking with his uncle, but Delias is not as eager to head over. He takes a long time filling his water bottle and adjusting his shoelaces before he finally decides that he's stalled enough. It's not like she can hurt him today, but Delias is still nervous. Officially meeting her makes this whole thing feel even more real than it already does.

Aristona watches him approach with arms crossed over her chest, clearly not paying attention to his uncle any longer. Delias feels more exposed than ever under her gaze, but he tries to swallow the nerves and show confidence. She takes the closing step between them and holds out her hand stiffly. "Good morning. Are you ready to begin?"

Delias takes her hand carefully, holding eye contact even as he wants to shrink away. She is exactly as he remembers from class but meeting her like this feels different and terrifying. Delias nods and turns to his uncle, ready for the drills to begin. He is no stranger to his uncle's workouts, in fact they've become staples in his regimen even outside of the gymnasium. He's more ready to train than he is to small talk, that's for sure. Delias tries not to look at Aristona all morning as they go through a gruelling routine, but he can feel her eyes on him the entire time. Delias wonders if he should have at least said hello, but it's too late now.

Emilia Rorfile, 18, District 5 Female

Emilia sighs, her cheek resting gently on her fingertips as she stares at the canvas. Her nose is spotted with blue, but she doesn't notice nor care. She can't decide whether she should keep adding to the painting, or whether more will just clutter the scene. She finds this to be the most difficult part of the artistic process- figuring out when to stop. Emilia can't even count how many canvases she has hidden in her closet because they're too busy to show off.

"Wow."

Emilia smiles at the voice that comes from behind her. She turns to find her best friend, Olivia, standing at the threshold to her room holding a tattered notebook. She'd almost forgotten that Olivia was coming over today, she's been so focused on finishing this piece.

"You like it?" Emilia asks with a tentative smile.

"I love it," Olivia corrects, taking a few steps closer so that she can examine the picture. It's a scene that's been floating around Emilia's head for a few weeks, but that she's only just managed to get down on canvas. An imagined scene of what a river looks like from below, with currents pulling at the weeds and loose pebbles on the floor. Another glance at her work tells Emilia that she was right to stop here, adding anything else would have been pointless. It's exactly what she envisioned.

Emilia takes the notebook from her friend's hand and sits down on her bed to flip through it. Olivia is one of the best storytellers that Emilia has ever met, though she doesn't believe it herself. "Anything new today?"

"Not really," Olivia says with a frown. "I was at work all morning. Unfortunately, no one wants to pay me to write all day."

"Their loss," Emilia says, closing the book and placing it down between them. "If you wrote the stories we were assigned in school, I might have actually read them."

"I doubt it," Olivia laughs. "You hated it there."

"You're not wrong," Emilia admits. School is little more than a distant memory since they graduated two years ago. Emilia is supposed to be working by now, but her family isn't hurting for money quite enough to force the issue. Besides, she can sometimes make a commission selling her paintings in the market even though the majority of their district doesn't spend money on art. They don't appreciate it as much as other places, namely the Capitol.

She has the urge to tell Olivia about her plan, but she's hesitant. Olivia might be a visionary in her notebook, but she still prefers to play by the rules most of the time. Emilia isn't sure that her friend would be very excited about her smuggling herself to the Capitol on a freight train. She doesn't think that Olivia would tell her parents, but she would certainly give Emilia a reality check that she just isn't ready for right now. She wants to live in her fantasies just a little bit longer.

It might be a shot in the dark, but Emilia has to try at least once. She isn't ready to find a day job and only paint when she's not exhausted from work hours. She's still a teenager and she wants more for herself than District 5 can offer. It might be a stupid plan but it's all she has right now. As soon as the reaping is over, Emilia will shoot her shot. She'll deal with the fallout later if she has to, but she has to at least try to get to the Capitol. She can already picture them melting over her paintings like they do with their eccentric fashions. District 5 might be just fine for Olivia, but Emilia wants to see and be so much more.

Levi Mirani, 18, District 7 Male

"Out here alone again?"

Levi flinches at the familiar voice but offers a smile as his cousin sinks down between the log stacks. He's been out in the storage shed trying to get ahead of his chores, but it's slow-moving today. It's always much harder to chop in the summer heat and, besides, Levi isn't in too much of a hurry this morning. Most of his uncle's family will be out for the day, except apparently Aviva who's once again chosen to stay behind. Levi can't say that he minds the company. Alone he sometimes feels like he's been going over the same log for hours, never making any real progress.

"You're alone too," Levi shrugs as he slides another log off of the tall stack. Saturday is the day that Levi spends raw chopping the wood before it gets treated and cut. The sweat emerging through his cotton t-shirt attests that he's been doing his part.

"Nope," Aviva says quietly, eyeing him with a smirk. "I'm with you now. Need any help?"

"I'm okay," Levi sighs, looking at the tall piles in front of him. He remembers the days of watching his parents toil around in the lumberyard and finds some comfort that he's doing the same now even if it's without them. Nothing has been exactly the same since his uncle took over the yard, but it's as close to normal as Levi can hope for at this point. "Why didn't you go with Uncle?"

Aviva shrugs, looking down at the tousled dirt floor. "It doesn't feel right to go out and celebrate. Not when it's so close."

Levi knows exactly what his cousin is talking about. She's been a nervous wreck about the upcoming reaping ceremony, though that's nothing new for Aviva. It's only two days away now, but Levi tries his best not to dwell on it. He doesn't want to think about another two kids being plucked from District 7 and sent to die in the Capitol. It only stirs up anger that Levi has no business feeling. He has no power to do anything about it, and even talking poorly about the Hunger Games in this house is forbidden. Levi doesn't even have the courage to think about going against his uncle, not anymore.

"Don't worry," Levi says softly. "There are hundreds, maybe thousands of kids in Seven. It won't be you."

"No one knows who it will be," Aviva reminds him.

"Then why worry about it?"

Aviva leans back against the log pile and watches him silently for a few moments. Levi continues working, still grateful for her company even if it's spent in silence. His cousin has been the only light in his life for a long time. It's not that he's treated poorly by his uncle, it's just that Levi's never felt welcome in their home... in what used to be his home. It's like he's a painting on the wall that just happened to come with the house but that isn't exactly anyone's style. He's just Levi, he's just there. He assumes they must love him but life with them and without his parents just isn't what he expected to have to tread through. He just wishes they could be here too.

"How does it feel to be almost done?" Aviva asks suddenly. "I mean, with the reapings."

Levi hasn't really considered this before. He's never thought of the Hunger Games as a possibility for himself, just as a terrible abuse of power from the Capitol that no one is brave enough to stand against. It's true, though, in two days he will become ineligible to be selected. Levi supposes that this should make him happy, but it just hollows out a new pit in his stomach. There are still so many kids left in the pool, and someone will be chosen every year- forever- and there's not a damn thing anyone can do about it.

Ira Adley, 18, District 12 Female

Ira brushes a long strand of hair behind her ear, regretting leaving the house without anything to tie it up. Jacks insisted that they go into town to look for some dessert, trying to lighten the mood as usual even as the district darkens around them. It's the night before the reaping ceremony, and both Ira's fathers, Alistair and Jacks, have the night off. According to Jacks these offer more than enough reasons to celebrate and spend their hard earned wages.

"Chocolate, your favourite," Jacks says with a loving smile, looking over Ira towards Alistair. Her lips tighten as Ira stares forwards at the vender, whose eyes flash between the two older men.

"The bakery is still open," Ira says, placing her hand delicately on Alistair's shoulder. Her father notices the vender staring as well, but he just shrugs as Ira pulls them away. He's grown used to their stares, but Ira isn't as quick to tolerate it. She doesn't want people to watch their family the way that they always seem to. She just wants to show them all that they are a normal family just looking to fit in. They're not freaks on display. They're a perfect family and that's what she has to show everyone.

"You love their truffles," Jacks smiles, placing his hand in Alistair's for just a moment.

"Ira, it's okay," Alistair says but Jacks is already leading him away. Ira waves at the vender, nodding her thanks for his time. She forces the corners of her lips to lift up just a bit, enough to be cordial but not overkill. Every step is perfect as the family walks towards the bakery- Ira stays between her fathers and talks about the various bakery treats that might be left after the dinner rush. She isn't sure if they notice the looks as they pass, but Ira feels the sting of each one. She concentrates on keeping a pleasant smile until they reach the bakery.

"Pick anything you want," Jacks says, pulling her to his side in a quick hug. They don't often have the extra money kicking around to spend on dessert, but all of them have been putting in extra hours lately. They're not anywhere close to well off, but by District 12 standards they are doing alright. "My treat."

"Thank you," Ira says, loud enough that the baker should be able to hear her. She examines the lines of pastries, each one more tempting than the next. In the end she chooses a slice of blueberry coffee cake, which she tucks carefully into her bag. It's not polite to talk and eat, even just with her fathers. There are already enough reasons for people to look at them as they make the long walk home. Ira isn't keen on giving them another.

Alistair pops a truffle into his mouth as they exit the bakery and Ira has to stop herself from cringing as someone walks past them. Jacks laughs and reaches up to wipe the chocolate from the corner of his lip. They're the best parents that anyone could ask for, but it's difficult for Ira to enjoy time outside with them. District 12 has never been the most accepting place, even if no one comes out and says anything about their relationship. Ira would much rather stay home, but Alistair is adamant that they have nothing to fear from the district people. Looks can't kill, he always laughs when the topic comes up. Ira isn't so sure that he's right about that one.

Erdan Yates, 15, District 3 Male

Erdan looks down at his notebook as his teacher spins around, his cheeks flushed red and his eyes searching the room. It certainly isn't the most unique trick in the book, but a good old spitball to the back of the neck never fails to raise laughter in this classroom. Erdan can't seem to suppress his smile as giggles continue to erupt around him, but it doesn't matter. Mr. Giles is already standing in front of Erdan's desk by the time he looks up, and he does not look pleased.

"How mature," Mr. Giles says, raising an eyebrow at him. Erdan leans back in his chair and folds his arms over his chest. His teacher isn't wrong to assume he's to blame, but Erdan isn't going to admit to anything. His entire class watched him aim the straw when their teacher's back was turned, but no one is likely to rat him out. Erdan's just wasting time before class is done for the day. They've learned to appreciate him and cut loose a little bit over the years. He means no harm, he just wants a little fun in the classroom once in a while.

"I don't know what you mean?" Erdan says with a smirk. He can hear his friends chuckling behind him and that only fuels his confidence. So what if he gets in trouble? No one actually takes the teachers seriously especially when the student they're concerned about is top of the class.

"See me after class," Mr. Giles says. As if on cue, the bell tones to release the students and everyone begins gathering their belongings. Erdan tosses all of his books into his bag in one motion and takes the long way around the classroom. By the time Mr. Giles sees him, he is already halfway out the door.

"Erdan!"

"Whoops, got to go," Erdan quips, not pausing any longer in the doorway to see if his teacher is going to try to stop him. Odds are good that he won't even bother, but Erdan still allows his classmates to swarm the area around him as they head for the streets. No point in hanging around and, besides, Erdan has to get home before his parents throw a fit.

"Nice one, buddy."

An arm snakes around Erdan and rudely ruffles his hair. Erdan pushes Kent away playfully, but his smile only widens when he sees his friend. He might be one of the biggest douchebags in the school, but he's also Erdan's best friend. "That history lesson was putting me to sleep."

"You must have been asleep because that was definitely math," Erdan jokes.

"Oh man, better sit near you for the test," Kent laughs. "A bunch of us are going to the square, you in?"

Erdan pretends to think about it, but quickly shakes his head. "Not today, sorry."

"Not tomorrow either?"

"Probably not," Erdan agrees sadly. He would give his left arm to have an ounce of the freedom that Kent and his other classmates have, but even that wouldn't convince his parents to let him go. The district square isn't exactly Erdan's idea of a good time, but anything is better than another night at the dining table studying facts he long ago memorized. His parents insist that he'll thank them when he's older and working in a high-paying position but Erdan highly doubts that. There's no job in District 3 that he will be happy doing, and no amount of studying is going to change that.

A/N: Hello all! This is it, the final pre-reaping chapter and I must say I am ready to start getting into it. Well not exactly because I am going to be doing reapings for the next couple of chapters but past that it's real again okay. Anyone that was around during For Evergreen should remember the format- we'll see some more world-building via outside POVs because I love that stuff and a quick reaction from all our tributes. I know they might not be the most fun chapters but I'm always ready to build this world so we're doing it.

What do you think of these 6 tributes (Evi, Delias, Emilia, Levi, Ira, Erdan)?

Now that you've seen everyone, do you have any early favourites?

The mentor blog is now live for this story (childrenofbloodhg . blogspot . com) and the TTW blog has been updated with mentors so you can see who everyone will be working with. Also nevergone4ever and Da Member Hogwarts 2.0 are still accepting tributes for their new stories. Check them out, you won't regret it!

~ Olive