Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games. They belong to Suzanne Collins.

Note: What a speed we're going at, huh? Already almost at the end of the first decade of the Hunger Games. It's certainly been tons of fun so far to write the early days of Panem's glorified child murder game, and it's nice indeed to see people have been liking the way things are unfolding. Let's hope the trend of good content can keep up and that I can avoid any hiccups along the way. Now for Victor #9, Fir!

"Know anything about Fir at all?" Peeta asked, observing the imprinted face at his feet.

"Nothing," Katniss replied. "Unless the fact she's dead counts. Johanna was the only living female Victor from Seven before this all took off. Makes you wonder what might have happened if one of the other female Victors had been in that Quell."

"I'd rather not think about it," Peeta replied, unable to suppress a shudder. "... Snow is still out there and wants us dead, real or not real?"

"Not real," Katniss said, gently holding Peeta closer to herself.

The pair stood quietly for a while, paying respect to the Victor whose actions had been lost to time. No youth of Twelve was likely to know much about Fir, after all.

All those decades ago Fir hardly knew anything about herself either.

9th Annual Hunger Games

Name: Fir Buzz

Gender: Female

District: 7

Age: 16

Kills: 3

Nobody ever knew for sure where she had come from.

One day she was found unconscious in the forest, sprawled out in a bush. She had a bruise on her head and clearly looked quite ragged. It was a Peacekeeper patrol that had found her during a routine march through the forest to ensure all was well and there were no dangerous animals on the loose that might hinder productivity.

Naturally, they had to wake her up and interrogate the girl. When it became clear she was deeply unconscious and not simply asleep after a botched runaway they lessened the harshness somewhat, but all of their questioning led to one clear cut conclusion.

The girl had no idea who she was or what had happened that led her to a forest in Seven. The only thing the nine year old could remember was the sounds of choking. This was of no help as she had no idea why she remembered this, nor did she remember who had been choking.

With all attempts to jog her memory leading to a dead end the Peacekeepers decided that the only thing they could really do was enrol her as a citizen of District Seven and arrange for her to move to one of the care homes of the nearby Town 152. Whether or not she was a Seven before she lost her memory, it would cause the least issue to just keep the mysterious girl where she was.

As she didn't remember her own name it was the leader of the Peacekeeper patrol, Montgomery Tiberius, who gave her the name Fir Buzz.

Despite her complete lack of a memory Fir settled into Seven just fine, taking to the idea of chopping down a tree like a duck to water and quickly fell in with the other youths well on their way to becoming legally enforced lumberjacks or, in the case of the all female team Fir was assigned to, 'lumberjills'. She could handle an axe just fine and the nine years of her life she could not possibly remember never caused her any particular amount of anxiety.

In fact, she was among the most cheerful of kids in District Seven. Perhaps the memory loss had spared her the worst of her memories, or maybe it was easier to live and not know a thing about the Dark Days of years prior, but whatever the case Fir tended to face every hill and valley in life with a smile.

That, and puns. Many, many puns.

After the Dark Days Seven was a particularly broken and grim place. Broken forests full of death, contaminated lakes, mutts running loose... it was a mess. So, the population tended to look for any vague sense of amusement as a distraction from it all. Even having one of the first Victors and proof that they had a chance in the arena didn't really help.

Fir had been with a team of other young girls, chopping down smaller trees that were needed to be cleared so that the trucks had more space to drive to and from the main lumber camps. One of them had sneakily picked a juicy orange from where it had been growing.

Lucky for that girl the maggots inside the orange had poked their 'heads' out before she could take a bite. She squealed, tossing it far away. Having seen this Fir said her next words as if by pure reflex.

"Orange you glad you didn't bite into it?"

The whole group had begun giggling, their spirits raised as they resumed their work. Seeing them smiling gave Fir a clear idea of what she wanted to do in life. Or, more accurately, her very limited spare time.

The Redwood Lodge was a tavern the Peacekeepers frequented, as even they needed some downtime like anybody else. It wasn't much, just a typical place to get some drinks and maybe a meal here and there if time permitted, but it suited the men in white just fine.

There was also a stage, often unused unless a Peacekeeper was drunk enough to do some karaoke.

Being favoured by the Peacekeepers – being found by them half an hour before a bear came through the area had endeared them to Fir, and the soldiers would admit the youth made for decent company. She caused no trouble at least and respected them just fine. - made it simple for Fir to be allowed inside the tavern for a short while and that extended to the stage. Well, they had never explicitly stated she could not go on it.

That's how Fir ended up finding herself on stage one afternoon telling a serious of particularly bad puns.

"What do you call cheese that isn't yours? Nacho cheese!"

"Why couldn't the boy see the pirate movie? It was rated arrrrrrr!"

"Why is Pliny the best Lumberjill we've ever had? She's always sawing logs!"

Montgomery Tiberius was soon laughing uproariously, highly enjoying the show. His men soon joined in and began to applaud, demanding more jokes. And so, the puns kept on coming. A few glass bottles were also thrown by citizens who were rather sick of the puns, but before Montgomery could give a command to arrest the culprits Fir had simply caught all of the bottles and began effortlessly juggling them while resuming her joke yelling.

"You know what?" Montgomery later said to his men. "I'm glad we found this girl. She's alright."

His men were inclined to agree, tossing coins up to the stage every time Fir told a good joke. Due to Peacekeepers having no real shortage of money in District Seven and Fir having a rather odd natural gift for entertainment, this inevitably led to Fir being able to make a living entertaining the men in white and not having to return to the lumber camps again.

As Fir grew, so did her joke telling talent. It was rare she'd not make a real killing in The Redwood Lodge, being a nightly performer and something of a local celebrity in Town 152. Peacekeepers came from around to watch her shows – District Citizens were forbidden to go between towns, lest they face a flurry of bullets to the face – and Fir could only smile at the way they cheered her name.

But with age comes wisdom, though Fir found she really did not have much of it. After all, there were nine years of her life that she was missing and at the age of fifteen she had barely more maturity than a six year old. She could perform all the basic tasks of somebody her age, but her maturity and world view was notably lagging behind, as was her school work.

"Sir, where did I come from?" she asked one day, seated at the bar beside Montgomery.

Montgomery paused from drinking his beer, looking at the tall brunette beside him. She gazed at him with all sincerity, eager to know where.

"I honestly don't know," he said after a moment.

"What? I thought you knew everything," Fir said, confused.

"Not everything, just almost everything," Montgomery said, smirking. "But really, all we know is we found you unconscious in that forest and you didn't even know your own name. I called you Fir, but it's just as likely your name might be Magnolia, Triller or maybe Katie."

"Who would name their daughter Katie?" Fir asked, making a face.

"Beats the hell out of me. Anyway, the only other thing we know is that you've always had a knack for entertainment and juggling. Nothing else but that," Montgomery said, finishing his drink. "We'll probably never know."

That was the last Fir ever asked about it, figuring that it wasn't really important. She decided that it didn't really matter what she had left behind when she was happy with what she had now. Especially as what she used to have, if anything, wasn't something she could even recall anyway.

Even when she was reaped for the Ninth Annual Hunger Games she treated it like a big joke of some sort, mounting the stage alongside a burly young man with a smile on her face.

"I'm just glad I won't have to go to school tomorrow," she told the Escort who asked her how she was feeling.

It marked the first and last time that Peacekeepers felt upset over a reaping in Seven, all of them being rather fond of the funny amnesiac girl who had entertained them for years. It was also the only time where Peacekeepers visited a tribute in the Judgement Building.

Montgomery spent a full thirty minutes going over combat tactics with Fir and giving her a brief lesson on how to wrestle.

"If you can get your opponent on the ground then you'll always have an advantage over them even if they're one of those killers from Two," he had told Fir. "Pin them, take away their weaponry and do what you have to do."

Fir listened with rapt attention, nodding constantly and not letting a single second of the Peacekeeper's lecture go unheeded. But all too soon it was time to say goodbye. Even a Peacekeeper has to leave when it's time for a tribute to board the train.

"Peacekeepers aren't supposed to have any family," Montgomery said, uncharacteristically forlorn. "But, you've always been something of a daughter to me. Be safe."

He was surprised when Fir flung her arms around him.

"You've always been like a daddy to me," she said, smiling. "I'll come back and tell even more puns than ever before."

"See to it that you do," Montgomery said, smirking lightly. "That's an order, and you cannot disobey a Peacekeeper's orders."

At the Capitol Fir had no issues making herself a favourite among the citizens, if only for her cheerful nature and how she treated things like a party of sorts. To the Capitolites life was quite literally a party, so they felt a sense of attachment and relation to the amnesiac joke teller. 'Why can't all of the tributes have her sense of humour' they asked. It was, after all, incredibly new at the time to see a tribute who wasn't either bloodthirsty, scared or straight up grumpy. Only the girl from Nine the year prior had tried to be funny, and it was agreed her jokes were both forced and terrible.

Fir passed the time in training by painting moustaches on training dummies with paint, making cheeky gestures with the swords and making several bad puns when the Gamemakers were watching her. If her reputation was being 'the funny tribute' then she was more than happy to embrace it.

Fir may have been this year's funny tribute, but there were numerous contenders for the roles of 'terrified tribute', 'miserable tribute' and 'deadly tribute'. The boys from eight, ten and twelve filled the former, the pair from Six filling the second and all from One and Two being the only candidates for the latter. Coin and Cash were deadly with teamwork skills that most siblings could only dream of, while Thor and Terrapin from Two were making it their goal to try and intimidate all of the tributes from Three through to Twelve with their sword skills.

Fir just made a joke about them being number Two and asking if that's why they smelt bad.

As with the year prior there were live interviews. It had been a massive hit the first time and the crowd wanted more, especially since nobles Coin and Cash would be present. But this time there was a bigger draw to the interviews.

Where had the amnesiac girl came from?

Bets were made all across the board as to her origin... and no money was lost nor won as the answer was never able to be worked out. It was truly a mystery for the ages. Hunger Games historians would be known to occasionally check into therapy, driven mad by the unsolvable mystery of this girl who just turned up one day.

Fir hardly realised she was at the centre of one of the greatest mysteries of Panem, instead treating the interview like she was in a comedy club. It was here that the trend for interviews to often have something of a genuinely comedic nature, whether minor or major, was first seen.

It was also the reason why puns were outlawed within the Capitol until the time of the fourteenth Games.

"Well this sucks," were Fir's first words as she and the other twenty three tributes were launched into the arena that year.

In those early years of the Hunger Games it was a common sight to see an all new arena terrain in most years. After all, there was a first time for everything and most firsts happened to occur towards the start than the end. It happened to be the Ninth Hunger Games that marked the debut of a ruined city, a terrain that tended to be hit or miss among the diehard Hunger Games fans within the Capitol.

It was a commonly agreed opinion that the first of the ruined city arenas, rather ironically when one thought about it, managed to stand the test of time. The cameras made sure to pick up the terror of many tributes, per the norm, but also got some great shots of the arenas 'must see' locations. The large buildings with flat rooftops, a massive crater with rats scurrying around within, an old metal bridge over a filthy river, shops that looked as though they had been hit by some kind of bomb blast, a tireyard that was already ablaze... as the amnesiac from Seven had said for the nation, it sucked to be in a place like that.

What also sucked that year, in the opinions of both the dead tributes and the big fans, was the selection of gear at the Cornucopia. Food and water were plentiful per the general norm, but this marked the first of four times where the Cornucopia had only a single kind of weapon supplied.

Bows and arrows.

The idea had been to try and replicate the utter mayhem of the first ever bloodbath, but also not give the tributes weaponry that was overly simple and deadly such as a crossbow. Bows and arrows were seen as the fair middle ground and the Gamemakers had assured Orion that he would be quite pleased.

In practise, however, the idea sucked.

Even the Careers that year did not have much skill when it came to using a bow and arrow which left them briefly stumped on what to do. By the time several seconds later that they decided to just run in and get shooting as best as they could several Outliers had already ran in, grabbed supplies and made a fast getaway. That, or made a kill as evidenced by the bodies of the unlucky boys from Six and Twelve upon the ground.

Their lack of prowess with this overly specific weapon and the general trend of most Outliers of this day and age not being particularly inclined to master weapons ended the bloodbath with a mere six deaths. As three of the Careers chased after the last few Outliers still hanging around Cash made the attempt to attack Fir, the cheeky girl from Seven having been hiding in the Cornucopia like her Mentor Pliny years prior, already loaded up with food, water and a bow with arrows.

Unlike Pliny, she wanted to explore the sucky city.

Cash was useless with a bow, but she did have fists and the sheer nerve to beat a tribute to death with her bare hands. She tackled Fir as soon as she ran out of the golden horn.

Fir had a peacekeeper teach her how to wrestle and that was why, after half a minute of struggling and kicking with her foe on the ground Fir was running away from the Cornucopia while Cash was left shrieking from the arrow jammed through her hand.

"I gotta hand it to you, that looks painful!" Fir added, making sure to cheekily stick her tongue out.

Both the Capitol and the Districts groaned over that particular pun.

The small Bloodbath meant that this year the Games were particularly long. Indeed, this year set a record for the longest Hunger Games that would only ever be bested once. Due to a combination of the Outliers managing to grab proper supplies at the start, the Careers being inept with the weapons provided, the relatively benign weather conditions and the surplus of hiding places it ended up dragging the Games out to a total length of twenty nine days.

While the Careers had their work truly cut out for them in trying to locate where everybody was hiding, and try to master the weapons they were stuck with, Fir had scattered away like the other Outliers had in search of a good place to hide.

"Come on," Fir told herself. "What would Montgomery do..."

Figuring that Montgomery would decide 'fuck this' and go get a drink Fir struck out to find the biggest bar in the city. It turned out to be an old place known as the Salty Spitoon where she hunkered down for the first night in the arena.

Having seen a stage set up in the bar she knew exactly what she was going to do the next day.

Every so often a tribute tries a strategy that, while silly at face value, actually makes perfect sense with the context of the Games they were in. With the sheer length of the Ninth Hunger Games Fir's plan was nothing short of somewhat brilliant. She set down several nasty traps around the bar she was in, got on the stage and – after making sure all of the cameras built into the bar were facing her – began to tell jokes.

Fir told jokes on that stage for hours at a time each day, stopping only to use the bathroom in the bar or to eat and drink. With the very slow pace of the Games that year, with only a single post-bloodbath death by the fourth day, the spoiled Capitolites were began to pout and huff over the lack of action going on. As luck would have it for both them and Fir, they found Fir's comedy routine to be the perfect way to fill the void. The puns could be a bit groan inducing, but most of her jokes were hits and her juggling never failed to impress.

With a week having passed and fifteen tributes still being alive the Head Gamemaker Casperous is in danger of a particularly painful hanging due to the dullness of the Games. It becomes in his best interests to leave Fir alone as she, while not fighting, is at least keeping the crowd satiated for the time being.

It's not until the tenth day when, as she makes up various silly theorises as to her origin prior to her amnesia, that Fir finally sees another tribute. It takes her a moment to even realise the person entering the bar is a tribute, having rather forgotten her situation ever since evading Cash back on day one's bloodbath.

"Welcome to the comedy club!" Fir says, friendly as usual.

The tribute, Ferrari from Six, isn't in the mood for jokes. She feels making a kill might increase her chances of victory and at least give her access to the supplies Fir has on stage behind her and thus makes a charge.

"Only staff and slash or performers are allowed on the stage!" Fir exclaims, teasingly.

Ferrari runs into one of the traps Fir had the foresight to set up, dying with a faceful of numerous glass shards. Neither pretty nor quick. Fir lost her smile for the first time, looking sick as she carefully laid Ferrari's body outside.

"Looks like Ferrari broke down folks," Fir remarks as she heads back inside. "She might need a mechanic from the hovercraft, guys!"

Once again, the Capitol and the Districts all groan. Fir tries her best to hide her tears.

On the fifteenth day eleven tributes are still roaming the city and even Fir is starting to feel like she's running out of jokes at this point. There are only so many tree puns she can make before even she starts to groan, after all.

"I don't suppose anybody has any requests?" Fir asks while taking a food and water break. "Just saying, but I'd appreciate a suggestion of a topic to cover next."

It becomes something of a bidding war to be the first person to send down a parachute to Fir's hideout. Amazingly, it ends up costing over thirty thousand caps to send down a sheet of paper with a single word printed upon it.

'Politics'

Now, in a small dose and especially during a rather boring Hunger Games the Capitolites would be fine hearing a bit of teasing and taunting of their city. Well, mockery of the higher ups who were not themselves at any rate. That's why for over three hours they contently listened to Fir's goofy political comedy, having a good chuckle over her rather oddball worldview on the nature of dictatorships, tyranny and the way it was illegal for anybody to get crushed by a tree during work in Seven, lest they pay a fine.

It turns out, though, that making jokes about the Second Hunger Games involving President Orion is just too damn far. Fir only needs to start teasing and giggling over how much money Orion is said to have lost on bets that year for the laughter in the Districts to start up all over again.

About half a minute later the building begins to come down per the order of the President.

Fir makes it out – though the girl from Eight who had been sneaking into the back of the building during the last joke is not quite so lucky, her cannon firing – and knows that her reprieve is over. She's lost her shelter, much of her supplies, her comedy routine's stage and worst of all she's out in the open where nine other tributes could find her.

"Gee, tough crowd," Fir says, shaking her head.

More inactivity sets in over the next few days until by day twenty where nine tributes are still alive it is decided enough is enough and a Feast is called. Food, water and a sword are promised. The lack of ability the tributes have with using bows and arrows is enough for the one weapon only rule to be bended a bit.

Sure enough, at the sunrise of the following morning a table rises from in front of the Cornucopia with baskets of bread, bowls of warm soup, plenty of bottles filled with crystal clear water... and, most notably, a curved sword. A weapon sure to put some chaos into the games and speed things up a bit.

The problem however is that the Career pack had been hunting at the far East of the arena and had to make a long journey back through the wrecked streets, their absence by the horn of plenty recently meant the Outliers could just run in and grab what they needed and thus four of them do not bother to show up and risk harm.

Fir, meanwhile, ruins the plan entirely by waiting inside a chest within the silver horn throughout the night. As soon as the table rises she runs out, grabs a basket of bread and the sword, and then flees the area. It's only ten minutes later that she tosses the sword away down a manhole cover, never to be seen again. If she cannot properly use it, why should anyone else get the chance?

When the Careers arrive and see the clear lack of any kind of sword a fight breaks out, one without any direct hits from the arrows until good 'ol fisticuffs are used. The Ones go to the left with bruises and the Twos go to the right with cuts. Either way the pack has been split.

Newly created Dog Mutts - known to some as Groaners - are unleashed on the twenty third day to try and cause some action, but the resulting issue is that the tributes simply take shelter in the buildings and barricade the doors to stay safe. The buildings can be made to fall apart, of course, but when all of the tributes are lurking on the rooftops this option is suspended as it seems too much like a blatant execution and, worst of all, rigging.

So, the Gamemakers wait.

And wait.

And wait.

They wait until the twenty fifth day where one girl dies of thirst and, after a half-hearted shoot-out over three hours Fir manages to snipe the boy from Two. The fact she is among the only tributes showing any initiative keeps her popular and thusly safe from Gamemaker interference. They even tolerate the awful animal puns she makes during the night to pass the time.

The twins from One are able to dispatch their once-ally from Two due to having a number advantage on the twenty seventh day, only because the Gamemakers called a second Feast, one that the now hungry and thirsty tributes risked attending. The action is loved by the Capitol, but comes too late to really have a chance of saving the Games from being a flop.

Especially as Fir stole the sword again, this time using it for some rather suggestive innuendo.

"I swear I'm not compensating for anything," Fir says, giggling immaturely as she holds the sword between her thighs.

By nightfall only four tributes remain: Coin, Cash, Fir and a particularly burly field hand from District Nine by the name of Barley.

Mizar, watching from the mentor room, dared to think for a moment that he may even have a Victor.

Peridot was satisfied her District seemed set to win, but confessed it was mainly for the sake of One as a whole and that she honestly did not care if another Noble House were to be knocked down a peg.

Pliny just quietly giggled in her slumber, memories of Fir's puns having filled up her dreams that night.

During the night rain began to fall heavily on the arena, the tributes gradually getting led in the direction of a large bridge for the finale. Fir makes it there first, mainly as the Ones find Barley. He puts up a grand fight and swiftly dispatches Cash in short order. Only Two minutes and forty seven seconds after the pretty girl from One slumps onto the sidewalk he himself is stabbed between the eyes by an arrow from Coin. The boy is tired, but the fury over his twin's death powers him on to the final fight.

"Gonna restore family honour," he mutters as he jogs along through the rain. "Gonna make the Gaudys get knocked down again."

He reaches the bridge expecting to be either the first one there or see his last opponent quaking in fear of the looming battle. The Capitolites expect much the same, eager for the vicious fight between the two most popular tributes of the year.

All are surprised when Fir steps out lacking any fear at all, standings upon a wrecked car and begins to crack jokes about her opponent.

"Did you hear why Coin got his name? He's only worth loose change!"

"Coins are meant to be round, but if you ask me Coin over there is a bit of a square!"

"Coin has neither a head nor a tail if you get what I mean!"

With a roar of fury Coin charges towards Fir, an arrow in each hand and murder written within his eyes.

It's not even a minute later that he is caught in a length of cable that Fir set up shortly after she arrived at the bridge. Straining, she drags him over to the edge of the bridge and tosses him over the side to the dirty water below.

"Water way to go!" Fir jokes, hiding the pain she feels inside with ease.

The nation is still groaning from the pun even as Fir boards the hovercraft out of the arena.

One is furious, Seven is absolutely delighted, the Capitol are pleased that a tribute who actually did something in the dull games won and Orion is just glad Fir isn't quite as bad as Pliny.

The ministers are confused.

There's no record of this girl having ever existed. No birth record, no family that stepped forth after seeing her on TV, no families known to be missing a child her age, no matches to the blood samples taken from newborns... nothing. It's like she just appeared out of thin air, not even being from Panem.

Plenty of time and effort is put into working out where Fir Buzz actually came from, but in the end the case is deemed impossible to solve and closed forever. Even after the Mockingjay Rebellion years later, after the day where Fir passed on with a smile on her face, nobody is any closer to working out where she came from.

Fir herself, of course, never cared for the answer. She went home as a beloved entertainer and became formally adopted by Montgomery, so what did it matter?

...Of course, every mystery has an answer, even a mystery as tough to crack as this one. Nobody worked out how to solve it, of course, but the puzzle pieces were always there waiting for eternity to be found.

Nobody ever checked the area of Seven thirty miles East of where Fir had been found.

Nobody ever discovered the nightlock poisoned bodies of a man and woman within a fairly homely and nicely furnished cave, one fit for habitat.

Nobody ever checked the bag at the back of the cave that contained a journal.

Nobody read the journal and saw the stories within of a family of entertainers who had taken the chance to leave District Thirteen's terrible living conditions and live a life of nomads with their little girl Atom Madoka.

Nobody ever knew that a single tribute from District Thirteen had entered the Hunger Games and lived to tell the tale.

"Maybe we could ask Johanna about her. Perhaps she knows something," Peeta suggested as the respectful silence ended.

"She may. Or maybe the life of Fir is lost to time," Katniss said as he and Peeta began to move on. "Unless we were to watch her Games? I'd rather not."

"Same here," Peeta said, flinching. "I may be curious, but I'm not that curious."

The couple walked on and soon enough came to the face of the tenth Victor imprinted upon the sidewalk. The short haired young woman who looked back at them was deadly serious, icy cold and perhaps a bit proud as well.

"Olga Machete," Peeta read. "Apparently she was a bit of a patriot?"

"If what little I know is right then patriot is a vast understatement," Katniss said, lightly shaking her head.

Did you see that twist coming? A Victor from Seven, but technically speaking the sole Victor of District Thirteen as well! I do like to be creative after all, and I'd say an amnesiac jokester from D13 hasn't been done before. If it has, feel free to tell me how very wrong I am. Hope you guys liked this one. Stay tuned for more!

Stats

District 1: Peridot Gaudy (8th Games)

District 2: Baron Overwhill (4th Games), Runa Peace (7th Games)

District 3: Honorius Perthshire (5th Games)

District 4: Museida Selkirk (3rd Games)

District 5: N/A

District 6: N/A

District 7: Pliny Aransio (2nd Games), Fir Buzz (9th Games)

District 8: N/A

District 9: Mizar Aldjoy (1st Games)

District 10: N/A

District 11: N/A

District 12: Duke Saint-Rose (6th Games)