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

Note: Another victor, another chapter of watching teens kill each other! Every District has their so-called black sheep, and this guy certainly fits the bill for District Nine. It was fun coming up with ideas for another of canon's least talked about victors whose only claim to fame is being drowned after a botched attack on Peeta. Hope you all enjoy reading the tale of Tabbock!

Katniss and Peeta gazed down at Tabbock's imprinted face, the latter particularly uneasy.

"He tried to kill me before I killed him. Real or not real," Peeta asked.

"Real," Katniss said, her tone assuring and light. "He was desperate, we all were. He seemed to think you were the best target… not sure why. You were never a killer like most others were."

"Maybe that's why. He didn't expect me to fight back," Peeta said, closing his eyes. "It was insane."

"Ironic too. You made the magician disappear," Katniss added.

Peeta gave Katniss a firm look, slowly shaking his head. Katniss quietened down pretty fast after that, knowing that there were times where it was really better to just say nothing.

43rd Annual Hunger Games

Name: Tabbock Summers

Gender: Male

District: 9

Age: 16

Kills: 5

The Pre-Show Warm-Up

Every District with more than two victors – so basically, all of them aside from Twelve – has their own black sheep who does not really fit the mould. One has Crown, Two has Rhyder, Five has Adrendellian III, Ten have Pasture… the list goes on, really.

District Nine has Tabbock.

The Nines first four victors all followed a sort of pattern, one could say. Shy farm boy Mizar, ever so timid wallflower Gwenith, quiet and mellow Teff, homeless and morose Laurel… they were all quiet people and were all humble. The idea of them having big egos simply wasn't something anybody who have even a passing awareness of them – so, basically all of Panem – would entertain for even a second.

Tabbock was nothing like them.

The last victor Nine ever had before their victor drought that would never be recovered from – unless one happens to count the boy who escaped the tribute building some years later – was a far cry from all of the other victors he'd grown up hearing about. He was arrogant, he was smug, he showed a notable lack of empathy when it came to other people's pain. He did not by any means relish in hurting people, no sir, but he simply did not feel much of anything when watching the Games during mandatory viewing.

Most of all, Tabbock was a magician. An aspiring one anyway. To him, life was one massive performance all about keeping the crowd entertained until the curtains finally came down. He had an excellent knack for showmanship, tricks and deception. It was an outright farce for him to put on a grand show and perform some tricks. Whether they involved cards, a disappearing box, sawing a person in half without killing them and even swallowing knives he could always pull off an excellent performance.

His district did not much like him. It wasn't just his constant disruptiveness in class or his way of embarrassing those called up on stage to assist with a trick. It was how Tabbock would constantly fall behind on work in the fields or outright ditch it if it meant a chance to perform for a crowd. The peacekeepers did not take kindly to this.

They also saw that whipping did not seem to bother Tabbock as it put him in front of a crowd, something that he adored. It became common sense to just whip others in his place, in hopes that turning a crowd against him would perhaps make him stop being a little shit and do his damn job.

It did not work.

Naturally, when the reaping of the Forty Third Hunger Games arrived and Tabbock's name was called nobody was sad to see him go. Tabbock himself did not seem sad to be going into the arena either. It was impossible to miss the fact he was ecstatic at the chance to be on TV.

"Keep your eyes out for the television debut of Tabbock the Terrific!" he had announced to the crowd.

The sheer look of excitement he had about going into the Games unnerved his district, especially the other victors. All four of them had suffered in the arena and found the idea of liking the chance to be in them nothing short of a horrifying concept.

Mizar, as the original victor, went in as unprepared as possible and even now felt he only won due to sheer luck and because he ran away from the opening melee out of cowardice.

Gwenith, the sole volunteer Nine ever had, still had nightmares about her own Games. She often wept for her long dead friends Prongs and Shrimp.

Teff still had nightmares about being lost in the darkness of the sea caves. The deaf victor was terrified of the dark, always would be.

Laurel, having been the prisoner of a particularly nasty pack of careers, was unable to stay near the career victors for more than a few minutes without panicking. She'd never move past the memories.

All of them felt concerned that Tabbock treated it all like one massive show and showed no fear. His joy was clearly not feigned. Nonetheless, after some discussion, Mizar stepped up to mentor him. Somebody had to do it and he felt he had it in him to mentor for at least another fifteen years.

But really, throughout the pre-Games events, he found himself not really having to do much of anything to help Tabbock. The boy had it all under control from the get-go.

He was competent in training, both in the basics of fighting and in survival. This and his surprising knack for the kusarigama earned him a training score of eight with no problems at all.

But the training wasn't where Tabbock truly shined. It was the interview with Caesar Flickerman.

It was one of those years where there were only four careers, all of them powerful brutes, and fairly scrawny outliers. All of them had their fans amongst the diehards, as was normal, but none of them outside the career pack had really caught the eyes of the audience. Maybe the gothic boy from Eight, but that was a hard maybe.

When Tabbock appeared on stage in a puff of smoke with a declaration it was time to make some magic, all doubt over who would be the audience favourite was put to rest.

Tabbock smirked from all the applause. His district had been referred to as boring ever since Laurel's victory and he was about to change that.

The interview was only a few minutes long, but what an interview it was! Tabbock took a very unique approach; rather than talking with Caesar he put on a magical act for the audience to enjoy while Caesar watched from the side and occasionally was called upon to assist with a trick. Tabbock held nothing back and with his array of tricks had the audience eating out of the palm of his hand.

A disappearing box.

Finding a hidden card within Caesar's bright orange hair.

Faking the act of cutting his own hand off.

Making a ball hover.

Seemingly reading Caesar's mind.

He exited the stage with another puff of smoke and a thunderous applause behind him. Nobody really paid any mind to the tributes from Ten, Eleven and Twelve after that. They wanted more of the magician!

They certainly get more of the magician. Tabbock watched the remaining interviews with a smirk, knowing that he had all eyes firmly upon himself for the Games ahead.

He had plenty more tricks left to show off and this time he had no reason to hold himself back from making them absolutely deadly.

Trick #1: The Ace of Blood

The arena that year was another urban city. This one, however, was not abandoned. Indeed, it was filled with bright neon lights, sights and more besides. The whole place was absolutely brimming with life from the sidewalks up towards the tops of the tallest towers.

Tabbock could only grin at the arena he'd be able to play around in. He couldn't have asked for a better arena than this.

"Let's make some magic happen!" Tabbock announced for the cameras as the countdown began. "Welcome to the show ladies and gentlemen! Welcome, welcome, welcome!"

Every other tributes stared at Tabbock like he was out of his mind. Several of them genuinely thought the magician was insane from the start, others weren't so sure if he was just a good actor. The girl from Seven thought it was both.

"I have so many wonderful tricks planned for you all, yes indeed! Tabbock the Terrific won't rest until all you viewers are smiling," Tabbock declared, taking out his tribute token – a single playing card. "For my first trick I am going to need the assistance of the delightful Bodhi from Four."

Tabbock turned to the fourteen year old boy from the fishing district right as the countdown reached forty five seconds.

"Tell the audience, what card do I holds here in my hand?" Tabbock asked.

"Uh… the ace of spades?" Bodhi said, stumped.

Tabbock held the card up for all the cameras to see.

"The boy speaks the truth! But what if I told you he was only half right and that I can transform this card into another card entirely?" Tabbock continued. "Watch and be amazed as, with the magic words, the ace of spades becomes an entirely different kind of ace!"

Tabbock spoke complete and utter gibberish until the timer had counted down to twenty seconds.

"The card has been gifted with magic of the Gods! Now all that remains is the final step of the spell," Tabbock took aim with his card. "Abra-ka-bassa-boom!"

Tabbock threw the card into the air like a bolt of lighting. All cameras were on the card as it began to curve in a wide arc like a boomerang and come back towards Tabbock. All the while the countdown ticked every lower.

The card came back, but not at Tabbock. It sliced right into Bodhi's neck like a razor. He collapsed with a dying scream, blood pouring out of his open neck like a fountain.

"There we have it! The ace of spades became the ace of blood!" Tabbock exclaimed, taking a bow. "Thank you, thank you!"

The gong rang and Tabbock charged into the fray around the cornucopia without another word, ready to grab up some supplies and run for his life into the neon filled streets.

Trick #2: Sawn in Half

Seven had died in the opening bloodbath, none of which were careers. The pack of four had started to make their way around the city arena in search of their prey, none of them wanting to let things play out for anywhere close to how long the Ninth Games had many years ago.

Tabbock didn't want to be stuck in the city for that long either. He knew that the best of shows didn't let themselves drag on for longer than they had any right to. That was why he kept an eye out for tributes to hunt and his mind open for any possible magic tricks he could use to keep the audience entertained.

The opportunity presented itself when, after stumbling through a tool shop and acquiring a large hacksaw during his retreat from the cornucopia, he spotted the girl from Seven running through an alleyway clutching a large bag of supplies.

Supplies that the magician wanted.

He carefully followed behind her for over a mile until she came to the entrance to a sewer system. He watched as the lumberjill surveyed the pipe system warily. He noticed when she saw she'd never be able to crawl through it and prepared to leave.

He ran forwards and shoved her into the pipe system. As the girl thrashed and kicked around in a mad fit of panic and adrenaline Tabbock began to speak to the cameras once again.

"Welcome back to more of Tabbock the Terrific's show! I hope you didn't mind waiting in your seats while the next trick was prepared," Tabbock sang, waving to an imaginary audience. "You saw the Ace of Blood. A fine trick, but a bit… basic, right? Well, no worries, this next trick is much more interesting!"

Tabbock took the hacksaw from where he had clipped it to his belt, raising it up for the audience to see.

"As you can all see, it's just a normal hacksaw," as Tabbock said this the girl from Seven began to struggle and scream far louder. "But normal or not, it serves its purpose for my second trick of the show. With the help of my lovely assistant here I will now perform a beloved classic trick… the act of sawing somebody in half! Pay attention, don't blink and see if you can spot the magic going on here."

With that being said Tabbock lowered the hacksaw and began sawing with a look of absolute focus. The nation could only in sheer horror, and amazed glee in the case of the Capitol, as Tabbock serenely sawed the girl in half over the course of ten minutes. The girl passed out from agony, shock and blood loss only ninety seconds in and the cannon fired after five minutes, but Tabbock did not pause until the job had been completed. He stepped away from the now halved girl who had once been a real person with feelings and took a calm bow.

"Thank you, thank you," Tabbock said as he rose, waving to a camera. "You're all too kind! Now, did you spot the trick going on there?"

Tabbock cupped his ear, as if listening to the audience. He began to casually pour some water over his bloodied hands to wash away the Seven girl's fluids.

"Wrong! The trick here wasn't magic, but a case of misdirection," Tabbock said, winking to his fans. "While I was sawing my assistant into an endless dreamland you all failed to see the real magic going on. Take a look."

Tabbock stood back and gestured to all the blood on the ground. It had managed to stain the ground in the image of the Capitol's insignia. Tabbock took a bow and dashed off deeper into the arena. He knew not to linger when plenty of tributes were still alive.

The Capitol cheered and applauded for the current most popular tribute in the arena, District Seven snarled and seethed at the monstrous torturer they'd be forced to watch kill one of their own while Mizar could only stare at the screen in horror, a bucket in his lap for him to vomit in.

He was starting to regret signing up to mentor this boy.

Trick #3: The Floating Tribute

Ten tributes were still alive and breathing by the time the fifth day in the arena arrived. The careers, Tabbock and a scattering of others from across the outlying districts. Tabbock's district partner was among the dead, but the sheer cruelty of the magician's methods of murder made it seem as though the girl had gotten off lightly in the end.

Tabbock's third trick would further confirm this.

In the days since he sawed the girl from Seven in half Tabbock had been relatively quiet, keeping the audience invested with simple card tricks and slight of hand, but he was firm in telling his audience that none of this was his third 'real trick'. Merely a way to pass the time until he had the chance to perform it.

While wandering around, axe in hand, Tabbock found the opportunity falling into his lap when he saw the small boy from Ten wandering into the neon fairground towards the centre of the city. Tabbock watched him walk past a massive display of helium balloons and quickly declared to the audience that the time had arrived for his third trick.

Tabbock wasted no time. He crept after the farm boy and carefully snuck his way ahead of him from the cover of buildings. At just the right moment Tabbock leapt out smacked him with the handle of his axe. In an instant the boy was unconscious.

Tabbock had him right where he wanted him. Or, rather, about a hundred feet from such a place.

Tabbock lightly hummed to himself as he dragged the unconscious boy over to the balloon stand and raised his hands to get the attention of the audience. The gamemakers turned down the sound effects around the magician, playing along with his demented magic show.

"Thank you," Tabbock struck a comical pose. "The time has come for the third trick, a trick that my lovely assistant will help me with. What's your name son?"

Tabbock crudely puppeteer the unconscious body of the boy, making a total mockery of the classic art of ventriloquism.

"I'm District Ten Male!" the boy 'said'.

"What a name only a mother could love!" Tabbock exclaimed. "Would you like to fly?"

The boy 'clapped' his hands. "Oh yes sir, yes please!"

"Who would I be to deny my assistant of what he wants?" Tabbock remarked as he grabbed the balloons from the balloon stand. "This takes focus, precision and a little time. Patience fans, you're going to enjoy what you're waiting for."

Time passed quickly. Tabbock had soon managed to die a total of ten thousand helium balloons to the poor poor, tying the strings around his neck. Tabbock flashed a cheeky grin to the camera.

"Watch and be amazed! A tribute shall, for the first time, take to the sky by the sheer power of balloons and magic!" Tabbock released his hold on the boy. "Fly! Make us all proud! Ta-da~!"

The sheer number of balloons filled with helium was enough for the particularly small boy to be lifted into the air by his neck. He was wheezing and choking in his unconscious state in moments. After he was a hundred feet in the air he finally woke up, breaking into a breathless fit of panic. Alas, it didn't take long after that for him to finally choke to death and his lifeless corpse to continue floating higher and higher into the sky.

"Thank you, thank you! You're all simply too kind!" Tabbock said as he took a bow. "That's why they call me Tabbock the Terrific, grand tricks just like that one! Stay tuned for my next one!"

Tabbock left the area humming a tune once again, oblivious to how the four careers had been watching the entire magic show. The boy from Two lightly applauded, having very much enjoyed the show, while the others looked particularly freaked out as they watched Tabbock disappear around a corner.

"Ok… we'll kill that one in his sleep, yeah?" the girl from One suggested. "Let's not give him any chance, you've all seen what he's capable of."

"Got that right," the boy from One muttered, shaking his head. "Outlying freak."

"Points for creativity though," the girl from Two added.

Several loud pops sounded from above and a moment later the body of the boy from Ten hit the hard ground, his blood splattering around the area and some of it onto the career pack. They all cried out in disgust.

Their cries were not missed by Tabbock. He quickly evacuated the area and sought out shelter at the far side of the neon city. Loopy as he was, he was not mad enough to try to take out all four careers at once.

Trick #4: The Explosive Mixture

Day eight bought plenty of excitement with it. The gamemakers unleashed a pack of robot mutts into the arena to cause some chaos and start driving the final seven tributes towards the centre of the arena for the finale in the next few days.

During the chaos the girl from One ended up being gutted by a particularly pissed off robot with her three allies being separated from each other. The boys soon managed to find each other, while the girl from Two was left to wander around all alone for an hour or two.

She found the gothic boy from Eight and was quickly on the attack, never one to back away from killing another tribute.

They were found by Tabbock who'd just managed to evade a trio of nasty robots. He was more than happy to help the boy from Eight kill the particularly foul mouthed career.

"By all mean, you do it," Tabbock said, gesturing to the girl from Two as she lay squirming in agony. "I don't need sponsors, you probably do."

The boy from Eight, Ripford, was more than willing to bring his club down on the fallen girl. She had, after all, attacked him first and messed up his goth make-up. The cannon boomed as the boys surveyed each other.

"Wanna team up for a bit?" Tabbock asked. "With the career boys out there we'd do better together for at least a day."

"Eh, sure," Ripford said. "Not like I had any better plans."

"That's the spirit!" Tabbock said, laughing.

The new alliance travelled together for the rest of the day, slowly but surely making their way closer to the central plaza of the arena where the finale would unfold.

Ripford also made it his way closer to his death, as Tabbock mouthed to the audience it was time for trick number four.

It began as soon as the next cannon fired, leaving only four tributes within the arena. Tabbock had no idea who it was – it had actually been the boy from Two being shoved out of a ten storey window by the girl from Five during her escape from the careers – but didn't waste time dwelling on it.

He had a magic trick to perform and started it off by knocking Ripford out before he could react. He raise up his arms, a cocky grin adorning his face.

"The show continues!" Tabbock declared as he paced back and forth. "This trick isn't just magic, it's a little scientific too! But I'll need your help for this one to work, fans. Please, if you would be so kind, could you sponsor me some of the finest coca cola in the land, the most powerful of experimental mentos and a plastic funnel? The show can go on once I have them all."

It took hardly any time for a parachute to land containing all of the supplies that Tabbock needed. After thanking his loyal fans he set right to work with putting the feeding funnel into Ripford's mouth and mixing the volatile ingredients. In the space of mere seconds he was quickly pouring it into the boy from Eight's mouth and assisting him in swallowing it down.

Foam began to spill from Ripford's mouth in barely a few moments. Tabbock quickly legged it out of the back alley they were hiding in, watching from the safety of the nearby street as the extremely reactive Capitol created ingredients finally reached their ultimate reaction.

Ripford exploded, his innards showering around the alleyway and staining it a horrible shade of red. The smell of death and meat filled the air as the cannon fired. Tabbock took a bow, imagining the applause and roses being thrown his way.

"Thank you, thank you! You're such a wonderful audience, yes you are!" Tabbock exclaimed. "But I still have one last trick to perform for you. The very best trick that I know. All I ask is that things run on for another twenty four hours so I can get it all ready. Stay tuned!"

Tabbock returned to pillage what supplies Ripford had and then went on his way, still lightly humming. The gamemakers turned to their Head Gamemaker, a bulky man by the name of Petrov, for what they should do.

"Give him the time he needs," the man said, shrugging. He smirked devilishly. "I think he's earned the right to have some extra time."

Petrov snapped his fingers, a thought occurring to him.

"Send him a magician hat, cape and wand. Why not help him look the part?" Petrov suggested.

Trick #5: The Disappearing Box

The tenth day started with Lionel from One dispatching the girl from Five with his bar mace. As the girl lay crumpled on the concrete Lionel quickly counted on his hands, working out who else was left aside from himself. He sighed deeply as soon as he worked out who it was.

"Of course… it'd have to be him wouldn't it," Lionel muttered, shaking his head. "Whatever, I can do this."

Time passed slowly throughout the day, the morning gradually turning into the evening as Lionel wandered around in search of his last opponent. But he couldn't find Tabbock anywhere, the magician having seemingly decided to be quiet for the first time in his life.

Lionel was about to settle down for dinner when he finally spotted the other tribute standing across the central plaza of the city. With a cry of triumph and bloodlust Lionel dashed off in hot pursuit of his prey. Crazy magician or not, he wanted Tabbock dead.

Tabbock didn't bother fighting against the career. He ran for his life through the plaza and into a grand theatre. Lionel chased after him until he sae Tabbock jump into a box and slam the door behind him. Lionel just laughed, ready to open it up and kill the magician.

He opened the box, seeing nobody inside.

"What the fuck?" Lionel muttered, scratching his head. "Where'd he go?"

Lionel yelled as he was roughly shoved from behind into the box. The door was slammed shut and locked tightly before he could get himself back up. As he yelled and bashed against the inside of the disappearing box grand music began to play from outside.

The show began as Tabbock strutted out on stage in his magician attire.

"Welcome, welcome, welcome! I'm so glad to see you all!" Tabbock exclaimed to the empty theatre. "Alas, the show is soon coming to an end. I know, I'm upset as well. I've been having so much fun performing for you all! So, how about we end things with a bang as I show you my final trick?"

Tabbock moved towards the disappearing box, gesturing grandly towards it.

"My lovely assistant, the boy from One, is inside of this box," Tabbock explained. "And below it…"

Tabbock pulled a lever at the side of the stage. A furnace system revealed itself from underneath the box.

"A massive fire device. That'd leave anybody hot under the collar!" Tabbock paused to laugh. "From above…"

Tabbock pulled another lever. A grand piano was lowered into sight above the disappearing box, suspended by a weak looking rope.

"A massive piano. That'd hurt if it landd on your head," Tabbock mused. "Ah, and from the sides you ask? Well…"

Tabbock pulled a third lever. Two dart cannons moved onto stage, aiming directly at the disappearing box.

"My lovely assistant has a total of sixty seconds to escape from the box and keep fighting me. If he runs out of time he might die!" Tabbock put his hands to his cheeks in faux horror. "So suspenseful! But, if he ever paid any attention to one of my magic shows back in District Nine he will know exactly what to do. His time starts… now!"

Tabbock pulled a fourth lever and stood back as all of the death-traps started to slowly activate. Lionel screamed, yelled fought and even pleaded from within the disappearing box. Alas, the metal box held firm from all of the smashed he sent at the walls of his prison. Time ticked by, lower and lower, with his struggling getting weaker as he became more and more exhausted.

"Say it with me now," Tabbock said, a victorious smirk on his face. "Ten! Nine! Eight!"

Tabbock continued to count down towards zero. Right before he finished Lionel sobbed for his mother.

In one moment the box became consumed by fire, filled with upwards of three dozen poisonous darts and smashed by a heavy piano. The wreckage was swiftly aflame and blood leaked out from within. The cannon boomed only a moment later.

Tabbock took a bow at centre stage as the trumpets finally rang out. But this time he wasn't just imagining the applause. The gamemakers had decided to filter in the sounds of the screaming and cheering Capitolites into the arena for Tabbock to listen to. They even made a few roses and coins get lightly blasted onto the stage for the victorious magician.

"You've been a wonderful audience Panem!" Tabbock shouted, nothing short of glee upon his face. "I'll be seeing you all in six months with more tricks, more surprises and more wonders throughout my victory tour! I'm Tabbock the Terrific, and I'll see you all next time!"

With a final bow Tabbock left the stage and the mangled corpse of his last opponent behind, heading towards the hovercraft that waited for him outside the building. He laughed, knowing the good life and all the fame he had ever wanted now awaited him with open arms.

Up in the mentoring area all of the previous victors from District Nine looked very uneasy at the thought of sharing the victor village with the mad mage. Mizar could only groan as he watched Tabbock boarding the hovercraft to freedom.

He was glad that he'd bought one home… but did it really have to be this one?

The Curtain Call

The yearly party at the president's manor went down as, perhaps, the best in history. If not the best then at least in the top five. Tabbock took to the party seen like a duck to water and got stuck in with putting on a magic show for Snow, the Capitol elite and the other victors. He even called up a few victors to help him with some thankfully non-lethal tricks.

Mizar was glad that it was the perfect distraction for him to leave the party unseen and head back to his hotel room until somebody came to bring him back for anything else he was needed for.

As was a very common trend in the life of the first ever victor his peace did not last long. He had only been laying on his bed for five minutes before his phone rang. He sighed, preparing to answer what he assumed was a call from one of the ministers demanding he get back to the party.

It was an unknown number.

"Probably just a fan… maybe a sponsor for next year," Mizar mused as he answered the phone. Hello?"

"Hello, is this Mizar Aldjoy, the first ever victor of the Hunger Games," spoke the voice of a woman with an accent Mizar didn't recognise.

"Yeah, that's me. Who is this?" Mizar asked. "…A fan?"

"Not in the normal sense. We've been watching you Mr Aldjoy. Seeing how you've been charitable to those in need, spoke against the Capitol in subtle ways when you could get away with it, what you did with that vile women to save Gwenith's life thirty years ago," the voice trailed off for a moment. "We want you on our side. We want you to gather as many willing victors as you can onto our side."

"Who is this? What are you talking about?" Mizar asked, now sitting up straight with more than a little unease in his tone.

"I speak on behalf of District Thirteen," the voice said, crisp and clear. "Junior Assistant and Private Second Class Alma Coin. We want you to join the rebellion, one that shall crush the Capitol and leave it gasping."

"I'm in," Mizar said, not having to pause and think for even a moment.

Between staying safe and under the Capitol's rule… or fighting dangerously and ensuring children did not have to face the reaping bowl it was no choice at all. Mizar would ask his questions later on – questions like asking where the hell Thirteen had been all of these years – once he'd taken care of the most important thing of his life.

Starting the downfall of the evillest regime he had ever heard of.

After a respectful silence Katniss and Peeta continued on their way down the street, the former having to gently support the latter as they walked along.

"You gonna be ok?" Katniss asked.

"I hope so," Peeta replied.

The star crossed lovers soon came to the next face of many imprinted into the sidewalk. A girl with a large, plaited ponytail looked back up at them with wide, nervous eyes. Her fancy earrings were an instant eye catcher as was the small dollar sign tattoo on her left cheek.

"Platinum," Katniss noted, reading the stats listed under the face. "Victor of the longest Hunger Games in history."

So, there we go, the black sheep of District Nine! Call me crazy if you must, but I always liked the idea of a magician within the Hunger Games, especially one with a killer instinct and / or a sociopathic nature to go alongside them. It was fun being creative with kills in this one, though gee wiz Tabbock sure doesn't fuck around. He ended up being much more brutal than I had expected when going into this one. So there we are, the fifth victor of D9 and now D13 has entered the fray. How's this gonna shake things up? Stay tuned to find out!

Stats

District 1: Peridot Gaudy (8th Games), Crystal McCree (14th Games), Bronze Marley (19th Games), Crown Martins (24th Games), Dollar Dettwieller (32nd Games), Mascara Court (41st Games)

District 2: Baron Overwhill (4th Games), Runa Peace (7th Games), Olga Machete (10th Games), Rook Valiant (17th Games), Boulder Atherston (20th Games), Vercingetorix Carnby (25th Games), Dragon Batofel (27th Games), Rhyder Overwhill (39th Games)

District 3: Honorius Perthshire (5th Games), Pi Orbit (22nd Games), Beetee Latier (37th Games)

District 4: Museida Selkirk (3rd Games), Mags Flanagan (11th Games), Tide Luther (23rd Games), Librae Ogilvy (35th Games)

District 5: Shunt Gaspar (12th Games), Isobel Sparks (18th Games), Crimson Flanders (29th Games), Porter Tripp (38th Games)

District 6: Chassis Macalister (31st Games)

District 7: Pliny Aransio (2nd Games), Fir Buzz (9th Games), Jack Tylos (21st Games), Snag Nakamura (34th Games)

District 8: Woof Casino (16th Games), Paige Murphy (30th Games), Spool Nylon (42nd Games)

District 9: Mizar Aldjoy (1st Games), Gwenith Rosebud (13th Games), Teff Withers (28th Games), Laurel Flamsteel (36th Games), Tabbock Summers (43rd Games)

District 10: Stallion March (26th Games), Lammy Phyronix (40th Games)

District 11: Bear Redfoot (15th Games), Seeder Howell (33rd Games)

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