a/n: Here we are! Second prologue.

Atalanta Whitelock, 28

Gamemaker

She plucked a small grape from the Receptionist's desk as she skipped into the Gamemakers' offices. The place was nothing fancy in her eyes, just a cylinder glass building with 5 floors. The 3rd floor was where she was headed, the mutt creation room. It had always been a passion of her's to create and play around with the idea of creating blood-thirsty animals that provided quite the creative death.

Ever since she had heard of the late Dr. Gaul who had been a great idol to her, she'd been sketching ideas until she graduated from the most prestigious university in the Capitol and got an apprenticeship at the mutt lab, she then worked her way up and got where she was today. The Head of Mutts.

"Julian! Would you be a darling and hang my blazer?" She said and Julian did as he was told, after all, he was under her command, to him, she was second in command, just under Hannibal. She got comfy at her desk in the lab and stared at the see-through fish in the tank next to her. It was amusing to watch them as they swam around, not knowing of the damage they could do if they were out of that water.

She took a sip of wine from the glass, already sat out for her by some other mutt-creator, probably hoping for some appreciation. A note was left next to it with a name scribbled on it. 'Kane'. She looked down her list and found his name right at the bottom. The janitor. She spat out the drink almost immediately. What kind of filthy janitor had sent her this - dare she thinks it? - vomit tasting wine.

"Fetch me the janitor, immediately!" She screamed at the top of her longs. She may seem professional at times but Atalanta could be immature and dramatic at times. She'd been born spoilt and been born a brat.

The janitor arrived a few minutes after, he looked sheepish as he sat down on the opposing chair she looked him up and down. Thinking about her decision. He was ugly, not well-dressed, and overall didn't look good in his position.

"Did you send me the wine?"

"Yes ma'am..my wife makes wine and she gave me a bottle to give to you."

"It tastes vile." With that, he packed his bags and left. Atalanta didn't mess around when it came to her job, if she didn't see you fit for her division in Gamemaking, she'd fire you and wouldn't look back. 'It is what it is.' was her well-known line. She searched online a little bit, having a look to see if she could find a new janitor but with no success she found herself staring in the mirror.

She was a strong believer in natural beauty. She held no plastic surgery on her body (which was rare for a Capitolite at her standard) and wore close to no makeup. She brushed down her blonde locks and began to sing. Her voice was garbage, vile, missing every melody and yet, she loved it. She felt so alive as she sang, at the sound of someone at the door, she spun around, and her eyes fell on a large man with wavy - dyed - blonde hair and a chubby face.

"Hannibal!" She cried and kissed him on the cheek. She despised the man, maybe it was his lack of showers or maybe it was because he seemed to favour her brother over her. She was jealous in more ways than one. The fact that her brother was given the job of Head of Arena Making before she was angered her.

She thought it to be unfair and all about how Hannibal preferred him. Her and Malakai had never got along, in fact, they despised each other. Both of them thought the same, Malakai thought Hannibal preferred her.

"Good day, Miss Whitelock?"

"Excellent, here, take a seat." She pulled a chair out for him, then she sat opposing him with a bad attempt at a charming smile. "Would you like anything? Water?" She knew the Head Gamemaker was cutting down on coffee.

"No, no. Just a talk."

A/N: Yay! I'm happy I managed to complete this, even if I didn't do it on the expected date, but I hope you enjoyed the 2nd prologue and Atalanta. I'm going to start stockpiling so I don't have an expected update time. Also, we have a full tribute list, yay!