Thanks to DMonkey1607 for Quentin and CallmeLegend for Rachel!

District 12

Quentin Fredericus

I'm running through the forest. Behind me, fire devours the trees and chases after me. I leap over a burning log and almost trip over a root. I take a deep breath, and begin coughing. The smoky air burns my lungs. I speed up my pace, but this only makes me breathe harder, forcing more smoke into my lungs. Unable to get oxygen, my pace begins to slow.

My foot snags on a root and I fall forward, on my stomach. My heads pounds and I begin coughing so hard, I'm confident I'll cough up a lung. The smoke becomes denser, until I can barely see two feet in front of me. The heat grows, and I know the fire is approaching fast. I begin to crawl forward, away from the fire, but my body is getting weaker. It won't be long before I can't move at all.

I reach out my hand to crawl forward, but my hand plummets into water. I pull the rest of my body forward, thankful for the cool liquid, but then I feel sharp, scaly fingers wrap around my wrist. I instinctively pull away, but they yank me toward the water. I fall flat on my stomach and am helpless as they tighten in a bone-crushing grip and pull me into the lake.

I get pulled down, deeper than should be possible. My already-oxygen-deprived lungs are begging for air, but I'm underwater and have no way of getting it. I try opening my eyes to see what's pulling me, but the water is inky-black and stings my eyes, so I squeeze them back shut.

The thing pulling me speeds up until we're shooter through the water, deeper and deeper, down to what should be the approaching ground. My head and lungs are throbbing, and I know that soon I'll pass out. I need oxygen. I flail about, hoping I might be able to escape from the creature's grip, but it tightens even more and I'm pretty sure something cracks.

I open my eyes again, carefully this time, and see that we're approaching the muddy floor of the lake. For some reason, I feel relief. Maybe when we reach the bottom of the lake, the creature will let me go? But the creature doesn't stop, and pulls me through the thick mud. I'm forced to shut my stinging eyes again.

The creature pulls me around in the mud, until I finally feel air on my face. My eyes open and my mouth begins gulping at the air, thankful for the oxygen. When I've breathed enough air, I look around at my surroundings. I'm in the Capitol… or what looks like the Capitol, based on the few images I've seen of it. I've just emerged from a fountain.

I look around, and notice that all of the citizens are staring at me. They don't look surprised, but are watching me like I am some sort of show. The hand holding onto my wrist releases, and I look over to see what was holding me. It's the escort, the one who just started escorting, so they stuck her in our District. She's slim and has a tiny frame. Her eyes are huge and the irises are silver, which really freaks me out. Her long, styled fingernails made marks on my wrist and even drew a bit of blood. She smiles evilly at me, then disappears into the crowd.

I try to walk away, toward a building, but a crowd of people group together, blocking me. I try to walk toward another building, but people block me again. I step backwards, back toward the fountain, but trip over something lying on the ground. I fall back, skinning my elbow, but I barely notice that, because I'm too freaked out by what I tripped over.

It's Kana Ashwood - the District 12 female from last year's Hunger Games. Her body is lying in a puddle of blood and her detached head is a few feet away. I feel a wave of nausea come over me, but I don't vomit. I realize that this is the exact place where she died. I'm not in the Capitol, I'm in last year's arena. She died by a fountain, which is the one I just emerged from. Which means that the statue in the center of the fountain must be -

I turn around, and sure enough, it's the king. He seems motionless, until his head turns to look down at me. He grins, creepily, and lifts a large stone foot. He slams it down toward me -

I wake up, breathing heavily. That was a very vivid nightmare, and I'm still sweating. I instinctively begin inspecting my wrist, but there are no marks or any sign that it was clutched onto as the new escort dragged me to the bottom of a lake. After finding no marks, I'm satisfied, and am able to relax. The dream was vivid, but it was just a dream. I'm safe.

I sit up, my back aching. I guess that's what I get when I spend all night in a tree, though.

I live in the forest. I'm not really hiding from anything, though, I just like to be with animals. My parents were very strict and never allowed me to go into the forest or play with animals or anything. They weren't mean, just super strict. They said they loved me and wanted to keep me safe, which was why they had so many rules forbidding me from doing things that I really wanted to do. I didn't doubt them, but I still wanted to go into the forest. So I ran away.

I live here, now. I rarely go into District 12, only on special occasions, or when it's necessary. One of the special occasions is Reaping Day, because attendance is mandatory and I don't have a choice. I rarely need to go into town, though, because I've learned to take care of myself out here.

There's a stream nearby, where I can bathe and drink from. The forest is stocked with plenty of berry bushes and edible plants, which keep me on a full stomach. I never eat animals, though - animals are my friends, and I would never kill one. Even the thought of eating something once alive makes me gag.

All of the socialization I need comes from animals. I can't technically have conversations with them, but I'll talk and sometimes I think they know what I'm saying. I also feed them, because then they allow me to stroke their fur or get really close to them. It's not like they come back to me and are my permanent companions or anything (this isn't a fairytale) but they don't need to, because there are so many animals out here.

I've heard that most District 12 citizens are terrified of the forest. That makes me laugh, because I can't imagine being afraid of this place. It's where I feel safe. As long as I'm here, I'll be alright.

District 12

Rachel Ivy

My nerves are jumping all over the place. I do not want to be chosen for the Hunger Games. My life may not be perfect, but I am terrified of the Hunger Games and would much rather be in this grubby District than an arena filled with bloodthirsty Careers.

The Peacekeeper pricks my fingertip, which hurts a bit, but I have a pretty high pain tolerance. He roughly grabs my finger, turns it over, and slams it into a booklet where I see a bunch of other bloodstains. This is really gross, and once again makes me question why the Capitol uses this method to check us in. The Peacekeeper scans my blood-print with a little device.

"Rachel Ivy," the automated voice states. The Peacekeeper makes a mark in his book, then waves me past.

I walk past the nervous kids and take my place in the fifteen-year-olds' section. I feel like we're being herded like sheep into here. After all, we are in a pen, awaiting slaughter. When I look up at the rooftops, I see a bunch of cameramen perched there, like vultures.

After everyone is inside, the escort introduces herself and makes us watch a video about the Capitol and the Hunger Games. It's the same one they force us to watch every year, so I tune out. Next, she takes us through our living Victors. We only have three, which is no big feat.

"Now, let's see who will be representing the female," the escort says, and walks over to the girls' bowl.

The escort waves her hand above the girl's bowl, tauntingly. A smile plays upon her lips when she looks out into the crowd, to see all of us so nervous. She knows that we're all terrified. People in District 12 aren't generally known for being very brave, which is why so many of us girls are terrified right now. Also, District 12 is the smallest District, which means each of our odds is pretty slim.

She begins digging around in the bowl, fishing around for a slip, and her hand finally pops out holding a slip of paper. She looks at it, unsatisfied, and much to my annoyance, puts it back in the bowl and begins rooting around for another one. She chooses another one, but she looks satisfied this time and carries it over to the microphone. She stands in front of the mic and unfolds the paper at a purposefully slow pace.

"Rachel Ivy," she reads. I feel my whole body freeze. I'm not very well known, but one girl recognizes me and steps aside. After that, every other person in my vicinity sees who she's staring at and moves aside from me. I look up at one of the building's roofs, and see a cameraman perched on top, like a vulture, aiming his camera toward me. I can't feel my legs or any of my body. I can't seem to convince myself to move. Finally, the girl behind me sort of nudges me, and I start walking out into the aisle.

In other years, I've seen kids pretend to be confident or even smile, but I don't understand how they do that. I can't even manage a stoic expression. My fear is evident on my face, and as I shuffle up to the stage, I feel tears begin to roll down my cheeks. Nobody says anything, I can't hear any tears.

My family loves me, but they don't react. My mom's memory is almost completely destroyed, so she'll have no idea what's going on and my dad will be too drunk to understand anything. Then, my brother, he's in prison for illegal trading, even though he only did it to help my mother. Only criminals who are eligible come to the Reaping, and my brother is over eighteen so he isn't here. I expect he's upset in his cell, though, because they still televise it and require the inmates to watch.

I feel the tears run heavier as I walk up the steps to the stage. The Capitol must think I'm useless. I'm not useless, though. I know stuff. My brother taught me about poisons, so I know about those. The Capitol will just think I'm a useless little girl, though, and any possible sponsors will mark me off as a Bloodbath.

But if the Capitol thinks that, maybe the other tributes will do that as well? Maybe they'll believe I'm weak and just ignore me. I could get through this. I'm not useless, but nobody will pay any attention to me. And if I win… I could help my mother?

The sudden optimism makes me feel a bit better, but my tears don't stop. I suppose that's good, though, because if I'm going for the weakling strategy, then I'll want to keep crying. I stand next to the escort, who barely glances at me. I can tell that she's marking me off as a Bloodbath, which is a good start.

I pretend to be too scared to notice the escort draw the male, but I'm actually fully engaged. I need to see who my District partner will be. If he's strong and gullible, I'll align myself with him and manipulate him into protecting me. If he's weak, I'll ignore him. If he's strong but has that untrustworthy look about him, I'll keep away.

The escort draws the name of a boy named Quentin Fredericus. A boy emerges from the eighteen-year-old section, looking very shocked. He looks pretty strong, but he's covered in dirt and his clothes are all tattered, so I'm assuming he's either homeless or dirt-poor. He's strong, but I'm not sure whether to trust him or not, yet. I'll have to find out more about him.

Quentin stands on the other side of the escort, and I notice that he's shaking. He must be scared. He also leans away from the escort as well, as if he's scared of her.

"Are there any volunteers?" the escort asks. I look, hopefully, out into the crowd. The escort waits a moment, but nobody moves. The audience seems to stand even stiller than usual, like statues. I'm sure they're worried that any small movement might be interpreted as them volunteering, and they'd be whisked up to stage involuntarily. Nobody volunteers.

"All right, in that case, shake hands," the escort tells us. I wipe away my tears before shaking Quentin's hand. His grip is very weak. I decide that he isn't as strong as he may appear. "District 12, your tributes for the 248th Hunger Games; Rachel Ivy and Quentin Fredericus!"

I am so glad all twelve Reapings are done! I find them tedious and boring after a while, but necessary. I can't wait to get into the pre-games. This is where the excitement starts ;)

I have a new poll out, for your favorite tributes overall. Feel free to vote for your own, but I'm having multiple selection allowed, so everyone doesn't just vote for their own.

If you haven't reviewed or been consistent reviewing yet, don't worry, because I haven't decided anything yet. I do generally start making plans during the pre-games, though, so I'd start reviewing if you want your tribute to live.

QUESTIONS:

1. What did you think of Quentin?

2. What did you think of Rachel?

3. Who did you prefer?

4. Who do you think will do better?

5. Now that we've been introduced to all twenty-four tributes, what did you think of everyone? Who is your favorite? Who is your least favorite? Who do you think will win?

- Lilah