Cheating Death: Those That Lived

by CragmiteBlaster

To cheat death is to survive in almost impossible odds. Seventy three tributes did it before Katniss and Peeta ever set foot in the arena. Whether they were brave, scared, vicious, insane or simply got lucky they all have a story to tell and all such tales, one per Victor, can be found within. Let it be shown how they made their mark on Panem in their own unique ways. [74/74]

75. The Victor Party

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

Note: Here we are guys, the victor party has finally been reached - sorry for the wait! Time for us to find out who actually managed to survive all the way to the end of the story. It's been fun hearing all the guesses and theories as to who is dead and alive (and to answer why Finnick was listed amongst the possibilities of who was alive, that was just for the sake of completion heheh), but now it's time for all theorising to be put to rest and for some serious boiling truth and facts to be revealed. Ready to see if your favourite victor lived or died? Let's go!

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Neither Katniss nor Peeta were entirely sure of what to expect as they entered the doors of The Golden Goose, free to pass the soldiers standing guard. Would it be a sombre atmosphere? Perhaps a hostile one? About the only thing some victors had in common was their title and there was no proof that old grudges hadn't faded.

The biggest mystery was how they would fit in amongst the survivors. Aside from Haymitch they didn't really know any of them particularly well, even those they knew to have survived. Even then, Haymitch surely had plenty of secrets and inner thoughts he'd never shared with them.

Then again, Katniss knew she'd not really been open and sharing of her own personal feelings either. Time and again she locked quite a few things away as, quite simple, she'd thought there was no other way to be.

Perhaps the party would be a solid first step towards changing that? That is, if it wasn't to end up going horribly wrong and turning into a nasty fight.

Katniss and Peeta only had to take one look around to realise this was exactly the opposite of the reality before them.

"Is that…?" Katniss trailed off.

"It is," Peeta confirmed. "…Cover our ears?"

"Got that right," Katniss agreed, softly groaning.

Life of a victor, future without a constrictor

The pain's been shorn, it's an all new dawn

Snow has melted, beaten and trampled by a crowd

The future is here, we're gonna bring it loud

It's an all new future, one without blood or decay

Having said that, here's something I gotta say

You can't deceive, you oughta receive

You can't up and leave, true love ya gotta weave

Most of all, you gotta believe!

Numi took a bow for her audience of victors, posing and making finger guns here and there. It seemed that the rebellion hadn't taken much of a physical toll on her compared to others. Barely a scratch coated her exotic skin and not a finger nor eye was even slightly out of place. But the young rapper looked tired, so very tired. Hiding out for weeks in a secret bunker beneath her favourite dance club in Six may have had something to do with it. War trauma may have had a hell of a lot more to do with it.

"Thanks guys, you've been a great audience!" Numi tiredly smiled, getting off of the stage. "… Oh shit waddup, it's Katniss and Peeta!"

Numi quickly made her way over to the pair from Twelve to greet them, several of the other victors turning to wave or simply give the new arrivals a polite nod.

"It's good to see you guys. Took your sweet time getting here," Numi nodded in the direction of the door. "Lemme guess, you took the time to remember all of the dead victors too?"

"We did," Peeta said without hesitation. "Other than the other five Coin rounded up right after the war we had no idea who…"

"We took our time. We didn't want to miss anyone," Katniss finished. "So, um…"

Numi just giggled. "I got'cha. This is all awkward as shit isn't it?"

"Beyond awkward," Katniss agreed.

"Well, literally all of us feel like that to some degree. So, yeah, you're in the right place. One entire party of awkwardness," Numi awkwardly cleared her throat, as if proving her own point. "Take a seat my mans. Enjoy a drink. Snack table is pretty swank too."

"Maybe get yourselves a pair of earbuds before it's too late and this one starts singing again," Johanna added, a fine bottle of whisky in her hand.

"Don't lie, you loved my rapping," Numi teased, her hands upon her hips.

"Your mixtape is pure garbage," Johanna stated, dry.

"And yet you have five copies, each of which I personally signed," Numi mused, tapping a finger to her chin in exaggerated thought.

"They'll sell for shitloads," Johanna declared. "Bread boy, edible root, nice of you to show up. Alright, that's my spiel. I'm getting a drink."

Johanna left to the bar area without another word, swiftly followed by Numi. The tough women from Seven hadn't changed all that much since the previous time Katniss and Peeta had seen her. The only real difference was that her hair was finally growing back to how it had once looked. Some things would never change though; namely, her attitude.

Haymitch made his way over to Katniss and Peeta, shaking their hands. He gave both of them a warm smile, looking much the same as he had the previous day. It seemed he hadn't even had one drink yet, a personal best for him.

"Ready to meet the 'gang'?" Haymitch asked. "Or, you know, sit off to the side and watch? Nobody would mind if you wanted to do that. As you can see, a few of us are already doing that."

"I'm ready to meet everybody. I think it's been put off enough," Peeta said, managing to smile. "No better time than now to get to know everybody else."

"That's the spirit," Haymitch said, already turning to Katniss. "What about you sweetheart? You in the party spirit?"

"…Eh, I might be in a bit. Snack table is calling my name," Katniss made a beeline for the buffet.

The party began to settle and pick up where it left off after that. The atmosphere was fairly quiet and cosy, and it suited the pair from Twelve just fine when all was said and done.

Peeta sat himself down in a booth near the stage. Two women were sitting there, both pausing their conversation to give him a friendly greeting.

"It's nice to meet you Peeta," the first women said.

"Nice to see you again," the second woman, Annie, added.

"Nice to see you too Annie. Motherhood treating you well?" Peeta asked, gently smiling at the baby held in Annie's arms.

Annie seemed to have made strides towards recovery in recent times. Less random laughter, less vacant staring, less of what the Capitol had simply called madness. True enough, she was unlikely to ever truly be 'over it', but it seemed a kinder nation, a quiet home and a wonderful son had played a big role in helping her along to regain a fraction of who she used to be.

"It is. Sinbad is healthy and growing up more every day," Annie said nothing more, simply content to smile. "So, you walked down the street and saw all of the faces. Do you recognise who I'm sitting with?"

"Of course I do," Peeta reached to shake the hand of the other woman. "Platinum Twist, victor of the longest Games of them all. Nice to meet you. I, uh…"

"It's fine if you're not quite sure what to say," Platinum regarded Peeta with a soft smile. "Just being here, alive, is enough. Thank you Peeta, thank you."

"What for?" Peeta replied.

"Your role in the war. You made such a difference," Platinum's smile became slightly bigger. "More than you could ever know."

"Me? No, Katniss was the one that did everything, really. I only did what came naturally, and even then…" Peeta trailed off. "What do you mean, exactly?"

"You may not have intended it, really, but… remember when you warned Katniss of the bombing over live broadcast?" Platinum asked.

Peeta nodded. "Yeah…?"

"Every peacekeeper in the Capitol dropped everything and ran for where you'd been held. It gave me the chance to make a break for it and escape the Capitol. They'd have found me if you were even a moment slower," Platinum sniffled for a moment, her smile wavering. "It was awful, hiding out in District Six and pretending to be a homeless woman, but… I'm here thanks to you."

"I'm glad I was able to be of some help to you," Peeta faintly winced, looking down at Platinum. She was, after all, in a wheelchair and missing the lower part of her left leg. "I wish I could have saved your leg too."

"Well… at least I'm alive," Platinum let out a small chuckle. "I'll just have to make the most of it, won't I? Just like all of us are in our own ways."

Platinum had indeed lost part of her leg and a prosthetic had not yet been fitted. It had really been a fluke that had gotten her to her hiding place within Six and a further fluke that spared her from death at the hands of a vicious gang. Chassis was gone, but his team – the undefeated Hazardous Hooligans – were still very much active and had driven up just in time to save her, though not her mangled leg. Hiding out in the demolition derby arena was by no means comfortable, but it was enough to keep her under the radar.

"I have a feeling we're all going to here for each other a lot in the coming days," Peeta gently offered Platinum a hug, an offer she accepted. "So, Annie, where's Sinbad?"

"His aunt is watching him. He's getting along with her daughter, Ula, really well," Annie replied, beaming.

While Peeta continued to talk with Annie and Platinum, Katniss stood alone by the snack table. After a few bites of food she'd settled into a still stance, content to remain off to the side and just do her own thing.

She softly sighed, content.

"Hi Katniss nice to finally meet you like geez it seems like I'm always the last person to get to know anybody who is anybody in this country like for real I didn't even meet Cinna until I was fifty honestly maybe I should just get out more but I'm always so busy and sometimes Harp needs a bit of care but what can you do you know what I mean anyway glad you could make it want a bit of candy?"

Katniss could only blink, taken completely and utterly off guard by the large old man standing eagerly in front of her. He carried a tray of colourful candies and, of all things, had a kiss-the-cook apron on.

"Uh…"

Crown pulled Katniss into a tight hug. He swiftly released his hold on Katniss before she could start getting overwhelmed, but Katniss was left in a daze nonetheless.

Crown had faired well during the rebellion all things considered. Perhaps he was older, wiser and not quite such a perky optimistic as he had been when he was a young man, but he'd kept all of his limbs intact throughout the war. Any injuries he had sustained were considered mild and had managed to heal up by now. It would take a while for the nightmares to fade away, and perhaps they never would, but Crown's bravery and kindness had clearly been karmically rewarded. Hiding out in the forests near Thirteen and coincidently avoiding Coin's notice had certainly helped with this.

"Just kidding, I don't talk like that as much as I used to," Crown chuckled again. "It's great to finally meet you. We've been wanting to meet you for a while now."

"We?" Katniss managed to say, still feeling rather lost.

"The gang," Crown explained, gesturing to a pair of women who walked up either side of himself.

The first women gently shook Katniss' hand, mumbled something about her being shorter than she expected and then busied herself with the snack table.

"Harp likes you," Crown assured Katniss. "She's just not really a fan of big crowds, even crowds of friends. She gets shy."

"Very shy," Harp added, quietly piling her plate with mint humbugs. "But yes. Like you Katniss."

While not a victor Harp was nonetheless deemed an important enough figure within the rebellion to be allowed at the party. Really, she was sweet and harmless. A rare combination of things for somebody to be in a nation like Panem. She, like Crown, had managed to make it through the rebellion in one piece. It was hard for her to get the right word sout sometimes, but she was able to claim the only reason she survived was because she had Crown looking after her.

Katniss started to smile. "Here I was thinking I had trouble making myself likable."

"Anybody who can harm the Capitol is a friend of mine," the second women added, crossing her arms. She gave Katniss a grateful look. "Crimson Flanders of the Twenty Ninth Games, forever in your debt. I want the Capitol dead. Anybody who opposes them is my, as the kids say these days, 'bestie'."

"What did they do to you?" Katniss asked, shaking hands with Crimson.

Crimson looked broken. "I was the 'original Finnick'."

Katniss didn't push it after that. She knew enough to understand the rough extent of what Crimson may have suffered. Such sickening, grisly things did not do anybody any good to be dwelt upon and so Katniss awkwardly moved the topic along to asking what the three were doing now that the war was over.

"I'm probably going to go back to One and open up a candy store for the rest of my days," Crown explained, popping the cap off of a bottle of soda. "I always did like the simple life and all the sugar that came with it."

"Me too. Gonna help," Harp nibbled on one of the mint humbugs she'd claimed for herself. "Service with a smile."

"Sounds like you have it all figured out," Katniss paused for a moment, considering her words. "…Can I get a victor discount?"

Crown fondly laughed. "Katniss, darling, you get free candy for life. You were the mockingjay, it's the least I could do for you!"

"Honestly, I wish I could give you more than, say, lending a book or giving you sweets as well. I might work a few shifts with these two. I'm not sure yet," Crimson sat herself on a nearby seat and stared off towards the ceiling. "More than anything I want to reconnect with the family I've got left. Finally… finally I can tell them. I can explain all of those sex scandals. I can tell them the whole story… and Snow won't kill them if I do. I'm free… I'm free…"

Crimson repeated these words a few times, as if hardly able to believe all of this was real. She'd suffered so much over many decades and the second rebellion was no different. Aside her almost-rape and murder at Bronze's hands she'd been cut, hit with shrapnel and broken a few fingers. Most of her physical wounds had healed, but scars both physical and mental were never to heal. She still looked outwardly pretty, but to tell the truth Crimson did not give a shit. Not when it was thanks to forced Capitol surgery. It was all fake, everything to do with the Capitol was fake. Above all, it was foul and she wanted more revenge…

"Thank you Katniss," Crimson whispered. "I'm sorry… sorry about the people you didn't save. But you saved me… thank you…"

Katniss slowly approached the older women, gently giving her a hug. She was never an expert when it came to displaying a side of warmth or care. That had always been Prim's thing, one she could show to anybody. For Crimson's sake Katniss would try to be like Prim for as long as the party would last for.

While Katniss and Peeta continued to converse with the victors they'd ended up beside Haymitch was similarly enjoying the party. With a fine drink in hand, one of a far more reasonable size than his past norm before the fateful Seventy Fourth Games, he sat himself down on an armchair off to the side of the café. He glanced at the women who sat in the seat across from his own.

"Good to see that you made it out alive," Haymitch said, offering a toast to his fellow victor. "After we got separated that night in the Capitol… I was worried, you know? Worried you didn't make it. Where were you all this time?"

Gwenith smiled. As tired as she looked there was another certain emotion in her eyes – triumph. Perhaps even pure content. She clinked her glass to Haymitch's own, soon setting it down.

"I went back to the place it all began. The place my whole 'story' began," Gwenith gazed up at the ceiling. "I went back home to District Nine to help drive out the Capitol. Seemed only reasonable given I'm… well… the only victor Nine has left."

"I figure, since you're here and all, you succeeded?" Haymitch guessed, smiling proudly. "Nice work Gwenith. Imagine, you leading a whole army of rebels. How did that feel?"

"Honestly? I had no idea how to feel," Gwenith idly swirled her glass around in her grasp. "From an 'ugly monster' nobody liked back when I was a girl… all the way to leading everybody in my district to freedom and victory. It was like something out a fairy tale."

In practise it was nothing like the magic of a fairy tale, moreso a journey laid with all the blood and gore of a story about conquest and the absolute worst of humanity. The peacekeepers had laid utter waste and death to Nine, trying to reclaim the district that produced so much of the food the Capitol needed in order to survive. It had fallen to Gwenith, after escaping the Capitol in a stolen car, to round up all able and willing rebels to take their home back. Long time rebels, normal civilians, even some incredibly brave – and unasked – children all came together to form a ragtag army. Armed with just a few guns between themselves and numerous farming tools they retook the district under Gwenith's leadership, inch by bloody and savage inch. All the while they stuck true to Gwenith's personal rule.

Do not kill. Capture them alive.

It had been hard fought every step of the way, but Gwenith proved to be every bit the leader her beloved mentor Mizar believed she could be. It only took a month, give or take a few days, before Nine was under rebel control. After that it became easy to claim some of the Capitol's technology to use against them. Nines were by no means Threes when it came to technology, but they knew enough for Gwenith to start messing with their data waves and security from afar.

Enough to weaken the Capitol's digital security enough for Beetee to finish the job from Thirteen and ensure Finnick's broadcast was able to make it onto air.

All it cost Gwenith in the end was an eye, but she hardly cared. Not when the eyepatch looked pretty nice on her, in her own words.

"You deserve to be happy Gwenith. Think you found some peace after all of this?" Haymitch asked, hopeful.

"…You know what Haymitch?" Gwenith offered a toast this time. "I think I had peace all along. From the moment I had somebody who cared about me. Mizar helped me, and he helped me to help everybody else."

"Pliny helped me too. I wouldn't call myself at peace, but that old sleepyhead did a lot for me. Enough to believe that one day I'll have peace like you do," Haymitch accepted the toast. "To our mentors."

Enobaria stood off to the side, leaning against the wall with her arms crossed. She couldn't claim that she felt like she belonged amongst these people. She never rebelled and never really believed in the stuff they did. She just liked pain, mostly giving it and occasionally getting it. Somehow that had been enough to keep her alive and, strangely enough, completely free of injury throughout the rebellion. The worst that befell here was simply being put under house arrest by the Capitol.

Still, she knew it would have been foolish to refuse to show up. Why say no to free food and, most important of all, alcohol?

"Still drinking?" a man asked as he walked up to Enobaria.

"It's the best vice Panem offers," Enobaria replied, shrugging. "Strong flavour, cheap to buy, makes everything seem great after a few gulps, what's not to like?"

"Liver damage?" the man guessed.

"I won the Games, I've survived worse," Enobaria rolled her eyes as she shoved an unopened bottle into the man's grasp. "You never were any fun Rhyder."

"No fun? Come on, you've seen my dancing haven't you?" Rhyder smirked at his fellow Two victor. "What is that if not fun?"

"Uh… traumatising?" Enobaria took another gulp of her drink. "I'm already fucked up, but your dancing something made it even worse."

"Of all the fellow victors from Two to survive…" Rhyder dramatically facepalmed. "Well, Panem never was fair. Why start being fair now?"

"If a lack of fairness keeps me alive then I see no reason to change a thing," Enobaria replied, snickering. "Be happy, you won. You got what you wanted."

"You know… I guess you're right," Rhyder leaned against the wall beside Enobaria. "No more Capitol, no more Games. No more fighting… it's over."

"Think your parents would be happy, seeing the way things went?" Enobaria asked.

"Yes," Rhyder instantly said. "Without a doubt."

Rhyder had managed to survive the chaos that unfolded within the Capitol on the night the arena was destroyed, mainly thanks to all the training and teachings of his parents over the years. It had been the ultimate test, climbing his way up the side of a building and stowing away on the underside of a hovercraft, but it was one that he has passed. Alas, the battles throughout District Two had left him walking with a permanent limp. But between that and meeting his demise like many other victors did he knew he'd gotten off lightly.

"So, did Augustus make it?" Enobaria asked. "He was with you, and I can only see eighteen people here. He fashionably late?"

Rhyder slowly shook his head. His pained exhale said it all.

"Augustus…" Rhyder wasn't able to speak for a moment. "…He saved me life. Took a shot when I got careless and didn't see the sniper. Lived long enough to see me shoot the bastard that did it. Just long enough to see how desperately I tried to help him."

Enobaria was not known for anything resembling tact and even she had the good grace to keep a brief silence.

Off to the side and seated around a table were a pair of men, each with their significant other. Conversation was soft and quiet between the couples, but certainly not without life to it. It was almost ironic, given how the topic was one of tribute towards those that had not managed to live to the end of the war.

"I'm just glad it's all over," the first man said, sounding far older than he was. "No more fearing the Capitol finding us at any given moment. It's a miracle that nobody managed to find us."

"We were overdue for some good luck," the women seated beside the man said. She laid her hand upon her husband's own. "In some way… maybe it's like an apology for what happened to…"

"…To Bloom. I know what you mean Paisley," Snag tried not hold back a small sob. He knew he'd never truly be over the horrible death of his youngest. "She would have loved this. All of us victors from different districts… just sitting down and having a nice talk."

Paisley lay against Snag, softly smiling as he put his arm around her. As painful as it was to have lost their littlest girl, at least they still had each other and the rest of their daughters. It was a relief little could compare to.

Well, the fact their eldest daughter Acre had been among those who beat Logger and left him to be eaten by wolf mutts came close.

"I'm so glad you're alive Snag," Paisley lightly snuggled against her husband. "You're the luckiest man in Panem, surviving the Games and the rebellion."

"If I was the luckiest man we'd still have Bloom," Snag gently stoked his wife's reddish hair. "But, I guess the fact we're still alive and still remembering her is luck in itself."

Snag had been able to leave the mentoring room from the moment Blight had died. From there he was given his yearly temporary cure for his cystic fibrosis, able to walk on his own two legs for a month. But this time such an ability was not spent finding sponsors or pacing in worry for his tributes. It was spent making a desperate run for the outskirts of the city.

It was said to be an image of pure wonder, Snag outrunning a peacekeeper until the full moon and hitching a ride on a train back to Seven.

After that Snag and his family had met up and, with minutes to spare before the arena was destroyed, fled deep into the forests thanks to the help of some peacekeepers who switched sides. Even after she was gone Fir's influence still bore down hard upon the peacekeepers of Seven. Quite a few among them wanted to do right by her memory… and what better way to do that than save one of her friends and that friend's family? Snag's family were under the guard of 'Fir's boys' in an ancient cottage deep in the forest up to the final days of the war, scared but ultimately safe.

"So, where did you go after you finished crying over poor Aren? You still didn't explain that part," a lanky brunette man said to his husband seated beside him. "Ten? Eleven? …Two? Come on Wattzon, tell me"

"You could guess all day and still not get it Clarkson," Wattzon replied with a shake of his head. "I went back to where it all began."

"So, Five? Seriously Watt, you shouldn't keep a man waiting," Clarkson shook his head, mostly playful. "Rude. Very rude."

"Uh huh, sure," Wattzon gave Clarkson a light shove. "No, I was back where my 'adventure' began. I was in Arendellian's arena."

"…Say that?" Clarkson looked lost. "Mind going into a bit more detail?"

"He means that I showed him where all the magic happens," a younger man added, leaning over Clarkson's shoulder. "Trevy Vex, youngest victor and best of the victor sof the Fifty Fifth Games, nice to meet you."

Clarkson scratched his head. "Alright, I'm missing something here. Tell me what's going on?"

"I was with District Fourteen," Wattzon said with a chuckle. "I spent so long looking after Arendellian… in the end, it seems she was looking after me just the same."

Due to how much of a disaster the Fifty Seventh Games had been the Capitol never opened them to the public. The frozen arena was left to gather dust and snow for the rest of eternity, a blemish on the Capitol's claim of a spotless record. President Snow refused to acknowledge it or have a single person watching over the mistake of an arena.

It made it a perfect place for Trevy and his own little gang of rebels to hide out in complete secret for years after he escaped the Games. It made an even better place to hide while the war went on. Wattzon had been there the whole time and, having been properly equipped by the group calling themselves District Fourteen, learned to love the frozen wasteland. It was a nice and peaceful place to wait for the dust to settle on the outside world and be free of President Snow. Of course, it didn't exactly help his ongoing worries about Clarkson.

Many hours had been spent in the exact same cave where he had been sent to gently retrieve Arendellian over a decade prior. He missed his little sister.

He liked to imagine her spirit, and that of Aaron as well, was what kept his luck going and prevented his gang from being found.

Off in the quietest part of the café two other victors were in the midst of playing an intense game of chess against each other. One man gave not a single emotion away as he surveyed the chess board. The other was shaking and trembling like a leaf as he considered the options available to himself.

"…Checkmate!" the squeaky voiced man said, moving his bishop a few paces to the right.

"Bugger!" the stoic man cursed, suddenly not quite so stoic anymore. "I had no idea you had such a talent for chess Spud. Where was this side of you in all the years we've known each other?"

"Probably hidden behind fear that I'd be killed if I talked too much," Spud said with a rather awkward sort of not quite laugh. "…It's strange not being afraid anymore. I… don't know how to feel about it, even after these months of peace."

"It'll take all of us some getting used to," the second man agreed. "After over seventy years of suffering it's normal for our minds to have issues with the new status quo. I only wish more of us were here to see it. Nineteen isn't the worst number, but…"

"Somebody's still not here," Spud noted, shyly glancing around the café. "Beetee, did Honorius make it?"

Beetee sadly shook his head. "He was detained and interrogated, but he never broke. In fact, he'd hidden a nightlock pill in one of his false teeth and swallowed that when Snow left him alone for a night. Apparently he wrote a letter mocking the president," Beetee wryly smirked. "Apparently Snow's anger was truly something to behold."

Spud had survived the rebellion by hiding somewhere the Capitol would never have thought to look – in their own garbage dump! Living as a scavenger amongst all the foul waste and refuse of the decedent city was as unpleasant as life got, but not a peacekeeper nor even any civilians came by at any point in time. Indeed, the only thing that came Spud's way was a rather flea ridden and vicious dog mutt.

Duke's pick axe, abandoned there many years ago, had been just the thing to kill it.

Aside malnutrition Spud had managed to make it through the war unscathed. Much like his Game sit came down to luck and hiding, but so long as he was alive what did it matter the method that Spud chose? Hiding was clearly his number one skill and he had become more than fine with this. Anchor could call him an awful victor all he wanted, but what did that say about Anchor himself when he was the one dead?

"That's a shame. I always liked Honorius. He treated me well… like an equal. Like my victory actually meant something and wasn't just given to me," Spud shook his head a little. "He'll be missed. Wait… so, Yohan…?"

"Dead," Beetee shook his head again. "His body was found in a cheap motel towards the outskirts of the Capitol. He hanged himself. Left a note saying he deserved it and not to mourn him."

"…I think I'll mourn him anyway," Spud said.

"As will I," Beetee agreed with a nod.

Beetee was much the same as he had been since the rebellion came to an end. Completely brilliant, dedicated to a bright and prosperous future for the nation and, sadly, still unable to walk due to his injuries. Being in close contact with Snag had made dealing with this a lot easier than it otherwise would have been. He was working hard around the clock to keep standards of technology moving forwards and it was deemed to only be a matter of time before he would regain his ability to walk. It was, quite literally, a matter of taking things one step at a time.

By the bar stood a plump women and a lean man, both quietly exchanging pleasant words as they sipped from their cheap drinks. Both had the odd scar or two on their face and hints of heavy trauma in their expressions, but one thing stood out as more obvious than any other sort of feeling.

The mutual gazes of true love. But then, when had Lammy and Spool looked at one another in any other sort of way? Some things just couldn't be quelled by the Capitol and the love between the charismatic boy from Eight and anxious girl from Ten was one of those things.

"You know what the best thing is about the Capitol being overthrown? Spool asked, finishing off his drink.

"No more dead children nor any fear of executions?" Lammy asked. "The freedom and fairness we can now enjoy? The fact that everything we went through was worth it?"

"…I was going to say the fact we can see each other all year round now instead of just during Games season, but your ideas seem better," Spool remarked. "Guess I'll just agree with you."

"Cheeky," Lammy chuckled, leaning on Spool slightly. "But, you make a point too. What do you reckon we'll do now? Like… we can move in together. Nothing stopping us."

"Hmm, either polluted Eight or Ten with the smell of animals. Tough call," Spool mused, softly snickering.

"Oh, shove off," Lammy playfully gave her boyfriend a push. "We could go anywhere we'd like. Maybe even One? I hear they have a nice solid gold lake."

"…Okay, how this that even possible?" Spool asked, looking genuinely puzzled.

"No idea, but it's just another reason for us to maybe find out, right?" Lammy finished off her own drink. "And, maybe after all this time, you can start going by your actual name again."

"I don't know, Tag's a pretty cool name," Spool winked playfully. "I think 'Spool' and I agreed there would be no take backs."

"I never agreed to that," Tag said, moving over to claim one of the drinks set on the bar counter. "You kinda took my name without asking."

"It was that or you'd die," Spool replied, winking. "But, it's not my style to attend a party and not cause at least some sort of a scene… oh, why not?"

Spool tapped a spoon against his glass to get everybody's attention. When all eyes were on himself he gave his fellow victors a light wave.

"Hey guys, I have an announcement to make. A bit of a real life plot twist if you will," Spool gestured to the doorway of the Golden Goose. "My name on the Walk of Victors out there? Yeah, it's wrong. I'm actually Spool Nylon and this guy here is the real Tag Nylon. We switched places in the judgement building years ago, so the Capitol always had the wrong tribute and never knew until this very moment. So yeah, now all of you know who I really am. Lammy knew who I was before it was cool. So, yeah, continue to enjoy the party."

A stunned silence was Spool's reaction. Lammy's fond facepalm and Tag's laughter was soon added to this.

Spool had always been the sort to use his words to even greater effect than a sword or his iconic crossbow. His charisma made it easy to slot himself and Numi into a peacekeeper squadron after two of their members had gotten separated during a riot. From there he'd been able to make it to District Ten and meet up with Lammy. The pair had battled hard to reach an ancient castle lost to time before the Dark Days. Undisturbed by any peacekeepers, bombings or monsters, the pair had managed to make it through the war in just about one piece. Spool's only wound came from taking a bullet for Lammy during their escape from one of the provinces within Ten, death only held at bay thanks to Spool wearing a bulletproof vest. The bruise was a small price to pay for Lammy being alive.

Lammy had played a fairly big role in ensuring she and the love of her life remained safe in their castle hideout. Reaper mutts, the same abominations later unleashed into District Two, had been sent down into Ten. A few of them had ended up travelling far enough to reach the castle. As luck would have it Lammy's traps were highly effective against the monsters. They started to attack at sunset and all of them were dead or left unable to move by midnight. Whether it was a career or a mutt, little stood a chance against the sorts of traps Lammy was capable of making.

"You sure know how to silence a crowd Spool," Lammy remarked.

"Years of practise Lammy," Spool replied, winking. "I don't think anybody is going to top that."

That was the moment when the doors of the Golden Goose opened once more and the final victor on the guest list made their entrance into the café. It was a sight that stunned all present, seeing just who had managed to scrape their way through the war and towards safety.

She was wheelchair bound and pushed along by a government worker. Her hair was pure white. She'd lost any sort of strength she once possessed. She was on moderate life support already. She looked… broken.

Olga Machete looked completely and utterly defeated.

"…Well, seems like I was wrong," Spool noted.

A few moments passed by in silence as the victors observed Olga and the former headmistress of Machete High looked back at them.

She began to weep.

---

Presently the nineteen victors were seated and paying tribute to those that hadn't lived to see the fall of the Capitol, regardless of where their true loyalties had laid in the end.

Katniss ended up seated right beside Olga. Having been filled in on exactly who Olga truly was and what she had done over the decades had even the tough Mockingjay feeling particularly anxious.

"Relax," Olga said in a surprisingly soft tone. "My days of fighting are over. They were over longer than I realised. If I really wanted to try anything I'd have done something already; I had the chance to."

"…What do you mean?" Katniss asked, uncertain of what else to say.

Olga just gave Katniss a bemused look. "I was roughly ten faces behind you for your entire walk. You should have looked back. But no, you left yourself wide open… but like I said, I'm past that. What's the point?"

Katniss felt a chill pass over her. Had Olga really been that close by all along? Had she truly not even noticed her?

The victors were remembering their fallen in order of district number. Much like a typical victory tour it would start with District Twelve and work down from there. Katniss and Peeta only knew of Duke in passing, merely what facts were freely circulated, but Haymitch had more to share. More stories he'd heard over the years.

"The fact is that I never ended up meeting him," Haymitch said, swirling his drink around in his hand. "But Duke was a real stand up sort of guy. Never gave up, even when he'd have had every right to. They say he even left money laying around the district for the poor to find. Maybe if I wasn't in such a bad place I could have done that as well."

"Let's not forget that he saved Pliny's life during the Forty Eighth Games. If he had more time he could have saved Vercingetorix as well," Snag added, a sad sort of smile on his face. "He didn't save a tribute, but he saved a friend in serious danger. He's got Seven's respect."

Many glasses were raised in memory of the tailor from Twelve, who so willingly gave up his life to do the right thing and save a little sleepyhead.

An action that led to Pliny mentoring Haymitch towards victor. A consequence that led to Haymitch mentoring Katniss and Peeta. A victory that led to rebellion.

"I… don't know if I really am worthy of being the 'last of my kind'. You know, last victor from Eleven," Spud took a deep breath. "I'll do my best. I survived this long for a reason… I'll make that reason doing my friends justice. Seeder and Chaff were so brave. They fully expected to die in that quell and faced it to the end, so that what we have now… we could have it at all."

"What about Bear?" Peeta asked.

"They shot him to death in the mentor control room. He was too dangerous, too powerful a rebel… too good of a person to be allowed to live long enough to get interrogated," Spud trailed off for a moment, a tear in his eye. "He started like a villain and then… he changed."

"It's all about changing and bettering ourselves in the end, isn't it?" Gwenith quietly added. "Bear… I miss him. We always… we had a 'thing' for each other, but we never acted on it. It's my biggest regret. Maybe we'll meet again. Maybe."

A silence was held for Bear and how he grew to be a far cry from the violent thug he used to be. The silence was maintained for Seeder and Chaff, the tough teacher and rule abider turned rebel who died for freedom.

"Skinner and Pasture… they were warriors. Quiet, loud, didn't matter. They were some of the fiercest fighters we ever had. I wish they were here with us now," Lammy trembled as she reflected on her deceased victors of Ten. "I'm not sure what happened to Stallion, whether he was shot or… or they did something to him in captivity. I'm not sure I want to know. I'll live my best life, to do less would just be an insult towards them."

Lammy laid her hand down onto Spool's own. "They may be gone, but I won't be alone."

"You'll never be alone," Spool assured her, letting Lammy lean against him. "All of us… if not rebels, we're more or less family. Right? Right."

"Right," Crown agreed. "I'm certainly going to miss Pasture. She always used to buy out my entire stock of gummy snakes any time we met up."

Soon enough Gwenith rose to speak, being the last living victor of District Nine.

"I think we know a lot about my fellow Nines. How they lived, how they died…" Gwenith had to pause to compose herself for a moment. "I never got along with Tabbock, but no victor should have faced the Games a second time. The rest all deserved better. Laurel shouldn't have gone back to the Games. Teff died to save myself and others, she died like a hero. And Mizar… he was the first of all of us. He did so much for our cause… he should've been here."

"Teff was so brave. She had to have known she had no chance to survive, but she so willingly got herself killed to spare the rest of us who were there," Rhyder's voice wavered for a moment. "She did her uncle proud. Honestly, everybody who chose to stay behind was brave. They knew the risks."

"Does Anchor count?" Spud asked, speaking barely above a whisper. "I don't think I'll ever fondly remember him, honestly."

"That's fair," Rhyder conceded. "It's foolish to think we'd all be fond of every single victor. Still, maybe in another world Anchor could've been better. Guess we'll never know."

"I always liked Laurel," Lammy said after a moment. "I saw a lot of her. Makes sense when you consider she and Pasture grew to be so close."

"I was only a tribute for a few days and I checked out before the Games even started," Trevy hummed thoughtfully for a moment. "In the brief time I was there I think I liked Mizar the most. Most would look at a twelve year old and give up. He never did."

Soon enough the talk moved on to the fallen victors of Eight. It took Spool a moment to regain his composure. As calm as he often acted being the last one standing of every single tribute and victor from Eight had taken a toll on him.

"It feels so weird to have outlived everybody else from Eight. I mean, I was never meant to be a tribute to begin with. I'm the irregular one. I didn't volunteer or get reaped," Spool gazed skyward, looking far beyond the ceiling. "I'll do my best to cover for them. Live on and make them proud. But…"

"But?" Lammy gently asked.

"They never really knew me. None of them knew my real name. A name may just be a name, but I never told them mine. Not really," Spool downed another drink. "It got to me sometimes, and now it'll keep getting to me. But, I'll do my best to not let it bother me too much. I owe that much to Paige and Cecelia. Woof too."

"Speaking of Woof… how did he, uh, manage so many kills in his Games?" Peeta asked after a moment of silence.

"It's not something we like to talk about. Woof was fine in his last few years, but… there were always issues surrounding him. It's not an easy thing to explain," Spool replied, his tone making it clear that was as far as he'd discuss such a topic. "Now, Paige and Cecelia… nicer women you'd be hard pressed to meet. I mean, besides Lammy. But for real, they were great. So kind, so tender, always there. Paige was a great mentor and Cecelia had a heart of… uh, whatever is next above gold I guess."

"My namesake," Platinum added, softly chuckling. "I got along with them really well. …How did Paige die? I never got told."

"Blew herself up to give Gwenith, Rhyder, Augustus and myself a chance to live. We'd be dead without her," Haymitch raised a toast in memory of the thirtieth victor, downing it swiftly. "She was a hero."

The talk moved on to District Seven and neither of the lumber district's surviving victors even said a word about Logger. Between him being the cause of Johanna's deceased family and the killer of Snag's littlest daughter there was nobody to mourn him nor give him any recognition. He would forever be remember as a coward and a traitor, nothing more. The rest, they had kinder things said about them.

"Pliny may have been quiet, but she was a lot smarter than people gave her credit for. She live done long life full of eventful happenings… well, when she was awake for them," Snag said, softly chuckling.

"She mentored me to victory and was there for Duke when he died. She's got nothing but respect from me," Haymitch added, fondly thinking about the sleepyhead who helped save his life.

"That's how I feel about Jack. Just… how much of a legend of Seven can one even be? He smuggled a taser into the arena, he made peacekeepers look stupid, he robbed banks and never got in trouble for it, he even mentored me. Twice! He was the greatest crook that Panem ever had. They gunned him down in the mentor room because he was too dangerous to keep alive and interrogate. He'd probably escaped," Johanna popped open a cold beer. "He was worthy of calling himself a 'master thief'."

"That he was," Numi agreed, giggling at the thought of Jack's crime sprees. "He even stole me a few rap CD's for my birthday last year. What a sweetheart, eh?"

"Not as sweet as Fir, but then again few were," Snag continued, smiling to himself. "I think Fir was the nicest among all of us. She just wanted to smile and make people laugh. I believe she succeeded, right into her final moments."

"Damn women nearly gave me a heart attack," Johanna muttered, shaking her head. "Though, remember Blight's reaping? That gave a few people in the Capitol a heart attack."

"Wherever Blight was a tracker jacker was never far behind," Snag agreed, unable to hide his laughter. "He always made for good company. Blight was a person most had trouble disliking."

All eyes were soon on Numi, the last victor standing from District Six. Normally she revelled in attention, but now she just looked depressed. It was with a heavy heart that she began to talk of her fallen friends.

"Chassis was a legend and always will be. I mean, winning in six hours and humiliating Orion? Bad. Fucking. Ass! He was a celebrity; a source of district pride to everybody. I mean, sure, he was a bIt crazy… but who ain't?" Numi smiled, wiping away a tear. "Porsche… I feel like people do not talk about her much. I don't see why; her network of drug dealers were great for passing rebellious plans along. She was fun when she was clean and even more fun when she was drugged. She was quite a character."

"True, she was certainly an artist," Peeta agreed. He swallowed a sudden lump in his throat. "Without her I'd be dead. She gave her life to save me."

"She always did the right thing," Numi agreed. She put on a cheeky grin. "Though, when I called her a character, I mean her habit of streaking. Heheh, joined her once or twice."

"You people from Six are crazy. Fucking crazy," Wattzon said, shaking his head.

"Guilty!" Numi replied, sticking out her tongue. "Bentley… you all know how I felt about him. You all know how much it hurt when he was gone… he was my best friend."

Numi covered her face and tried not to cry. She wasn't over Bentley's death and wouldn't be for a long time. This and her whimpers of her parents being dead and Nuvi being MIA made it clear to see just how much she was hurting. While Spool tried to comfort her the talk moved on to the fallen victors of Five.

"My district seems to always have bad luck. I mean, aside Wattzon here. Lucky boy having such a fluke victory," Crimson said, slowly shaking her head.

"Won't apologise for being alive," Wattzon said, shrugging. "I like to think it's the universe paying me back for a shitty upbringing in Five, you know?"

"Perhaps," Crimson sighed, ever so tired. "But really, we got unlucky all along. Shunt died from a poison meant for Isobel, while Isobel herself was assassinated. Nobody knows for sure who it killed her, but it was surely one of Snow's men. Porter was one of those that led rebels into the dam destruction during the war. We pulled straws, both willing to die, and she picked the long one. As for Neon and Arendellian, they just got unlucky to get reaped a second time."

"A lot of good people died," Wattzon agreed. "Porter may have been silent, but I always liked her unique brand of sass. She was a riot at parties. But… it's Arendellian I'll mist the most of all. I mean, she was… she was basically my little sister. I just wish she could have…"

Wattzon went silent. Clarkson put a comforting hand upon his shoulder. After a moment Gwenith spoke up.

"I remember Shunt. He was funny. Always a bit goofy, but it was nice. Back in those days goofiness was appreciated," Gwenith continued to lose herself in the past. "Oh, and Isobel. A karate master, a fighter… one hell of a rebel. She really helped set the earliest foundations for the rebellion. Snow must have been scared of her to have her assassinated."

"Snow was nowhere as fearless as he seemed to want the nation to believe," Annie agreed, quietly. "Neon though… he was always screaming or crying. I never got to really know him."

"I don't think anybody did," Wattzon replied. "All I know is he was a creep."

"I couldn't be in the same room as him without getting nervous," Crimson stated. "Still, even he did not deserve the quell."

Nobody disagreed with this. One time in the arena was hard enough, but to do it all again? It was horrifying beyond words. Nobody wanted to dwell upon that and so the topic shifted to remembrance of the District Four victors.

"I'm not sure I can do justice to all of them," Annie said, holding her son close. "I never knew Museida personally, but he was apparently a decent man. Very firm, but overall quite fair. I think he fell into depression over age taking away his strength. He needed a friend and the other victors did their best."

"Were he and Mags close?" Katniss asked. "They were the first victors from Four, long before the rest."

"I think they were. Mags was really affected by his death," Annie paused to gently rock Sinbad a little. "Still, she was never one who could be kept down for very long. She was always a fighter and didn't stop helping others until… until the fog…"

Annie trailed off and silence reigned for a bit. While Annie tried to compose herself the other victors began to talk about some of the other victors from Four who had come and gone over the many years of the cruel Hunger Games.

"I always did like Ron a lot. Everybody from Three did, actually," Beetee paused to wipe his glasses. "Loather had killed so many people. Tortured them. Left messages of mockery written in blood. People from home thought that Ron's savage kill of that monster was, in some ways, a relief. It gave a bit of closure seeing Loather getting what he deserved. Ron will always have the respect of Three."

"He was still alive when they came to rescue Peeta and I," Johanna said, faraway. "I heard his screams. I heard him mocking them. He didn't break under torture, no matter what they did. They killed him because he beat them. He was too strong."

A few glasses were raised in memory of Ron.

"…Anybody know how Anchor died?" Spud asked.

"I'd like to know that as well," Lammy agreed. "He always used to call me fat…"

"Ron used him as a meat shield against peacekeeper gunfire," Haymitch explained. "Son of a bitch had it coming. He was more like a peacekeeper amongst victors than anything else."

"He even betrayed his lifelong friend for the sake of winning the Games and getting rich," Annie said, shaking her head. "Shameful. Sacrificing lives just to make lots of money."

"I used to fear Tide would end up doing that as well," Rhyder said. "I guess she did in the arena, but eventually she did the right thing. The thing Anchor never did. She stayed behind to help fight the peacekeepers. I don't think she believed we'd win, but that just makes it more notable."

"I wish I could have seen more of that side of her," Annie said, forlorn. "Most of the time she was just making bet after bet. I think she really needed help to get over her obsession."

"All of us need help one way or the other," Haymitch stated, pouring out another drink. "Was she one of those who got shot, or was she…?"

"I heard from Plutarch that she was put under torture. Electric torture," Rhyder let out a pained breath. "She didn't break. Maybe she bet herself she wouldn't? Point is she didn't sell us out. Not once."

Haymitch responded by leading a toast to the deceased gambler.

"I miss Librae a lot," Spool added after a few moments. "She was a lot of fun. Spacey, but she was always a lot smarter than she looked. Take it from somebody who hid something away for decades, she was hiding a lot of her full potential."

"She always seemed like she was afraid to act smart," Gwenith mused. "Why do you think that was Tag, um, Spool? Sorry, I'm probably never going to get used to the fact you have a totally different name now."

"Technically I don't 'now'. It's more like I always did," Spool replied, winking. "Annie, what do you think? Why would Librae hide a lot about herself? She didn't switch places with the real tribute did she?"

"No, nothing like that. I never really spoke with her, but my mom did," Annie adjusted her sitting stance, letting Sinbad get comfier within her arms. "She said Librae's patents got in really big trouble for being 'too smart'. Librae played it safe by acting dumb. She only let herself be smart when she thought she'd not get busted for it."

There was another toast made, this one in loving memory of the surfer girl of hidden brains and not-so-hidden coolness.

It made sense they'd make the toast. After all, they had no idea of the truth – Librae was alive.

"That leaves Finnick… I think all of us here knew him and owe a lot of our success to him," Haymitch, again, led a toast. "He should've been here."

"He should have," Annie agreed, sniffling.

"He made life bearable, for at least a few nights," Crimson whispered, starting to shudder all over from the horrible memories. "Any time he could… offer up himself to spare me even a minute of misery he would do it. He was the bravest man who ever lived…"

"Got that right," Numi covered her face, starting to shake as well. "I'll never forget the first night I got whored out, no matter how much I want to. Without him there as well I'd have gone crazy. Maybe I already have, but he stopped it being worse."

There was not a dry eye in the café by the time the group were finished dwelling upon the youngest victor there ever was.

Soon it was Beetee's turn to speak. He took his time to consider his words, unused to being much of a spokesperson in any capacity, least of all for his fellow victors of Three.

"There are a great many things I want to say about the others from Three who won the Games… but, won feels like the wrong word. All of us lost something along the way, whether it was a family member or a part of ourselves. Some of us hid it better than others, but… we were all like broken clocks in a sense. Damaged, yet still right sometimes. Still able to think," Beetee took off his glasses, idly wiping the lenses. "I'll start with Honorius. The eldest among us by the time of the war. He still had it, right to the end."

"It?" Katniss asked. "What's 'it'."

"I guess… his wit. His nerve. His bravery. He saw a problem with the Capitol right from the start and did his best to do whatever little thing he could to cause them problems. He didn't lose himself in pain, substance abuse, becoming part of the Capitol or any of the rest of it," Beetee paused to compose himself, pained over the thoughts of his old deceased mentor. "He acted. He claimed to have been a 'snot nosed brat' when he was young, but he sure turned out to be about as far from that as it gets."

Ogla practically shrank down in her wheelchair. Shame and self-loathing was obvious for all to see, not that anybody looked her way.

"I did the opposite," she whispered. "I started bad and only got worse… Honorius was right all along. He was always right."

"He prided himself on being right," Gwenith said, a small smile upon her old face. "Some things never changed. There was always a little ego in there, but it was always well hidden behind his caring side. I heard he sacrificed so much to help Pi find some semblance of peace, even for a few minutes."

The atmosphere seemed to become darker and far more suffocating when the name of the twenty second victor was spoken. The first victor to have died, the first to have cracked when it all become too much.

"Pi suffered terribly and she will forever be missed," Beetee said, grim in the face. "All victors have suffered, even those that never seemed to realise it like Anchor or, urgh, Bronze. But Pi suffered so much that… well, it feels tricky to say she suffered the most, but she was up there. She lost her family and the Capitol treated her like a joke to laugh at, a 'sore loser'. She needed more than a friend, she needed professional help."

"Honorius did his best, didn't he?" Spud asked, quietly.

"He did. But it wasn't enough, it never could have been enough," Beetee gazed past the ceiling. "He never told me how he reacted when he was the first to find her dead body, but it doesn't take an IQ like mine to know it was awful. May she rest in peace."

The victor who won her survival, lost her family and then lost her own life was toasted, her memory deeply treasured.

"Wiress was, in many ways, my best friend over the years. I feel like I understood her in ways nobody else did, and she the same with me. Even Honorius and I couldn't grasp everything about each other, but Wiress was different," Beetee allowed himself to fondly smile over the memory of his fallen friend. "She liked to say she had a 'special brain'. She was certainly a genius, no question about it, but… she had a special heart. She was a true friend. My friend."

Beetee trailed off and, again, needed to compose himself. Peeta was the one to break the silence after that.

"I didn't know Wiress for long. Actually, I might have known her the least of everybody here, but even I saw what her obvious. Her kindness, her smarts… just how interesting she was. I think I'll forever wish I could've gotten to know her better like the rest of you," Peeta put his head into his hands. "I hear she took over her arena? She got away with rebellion… that's amazing."

"She did, until she didn't," Johanna looked off to the side. "She was alright."

When the talk came along to Yohan not many of the victors had much of anything to say. The man had been a depressed recluse for years and never formed any bonds with any of them. It was rare indeed when he would utter a word. Most of the times he did were to hiss for people to not come close to him.

Only Beetee had much to say about the once reckless rocker aside from idle comments of how Yohan was somebody the others felt bad for.

"Yohan killed his sister in the arena, for those who do not know. That is, if anybody doesn't by now," Beetee sighed. "It was an accident, a fluke, it was never supposed to happen. Yohan loved Meryl, he made that much clear to me… he never forgave himself, seeing everything that befell him from then on as his own entire fault. The most he'd ever say would be drunk rambles over how he wished he'd died in that arena and that Meryl had lived. He claimed she deserved to live far more."

"You said he killed himself?" Spud said, quietly. "In a twisted sense… maybe he got what he wanted. Maybe he'll see her again, find forgiveness… no, sorry, I'm talking stupid."

"No, I think I get what you mean," Beetee assured Spud. "I think this world offered him nothing else. Only what may, or may not, come next gave him what he wanted… if only there had been another way. Some method to help him."

The talk soon shifted to the victors of District Two. The bulk of the victors, having either not gotten along with the fallen Twos or simply rarely getting to speak to them due to the Games going on, remained silent. The stage had been ceded to Rhyder, Enobaria and Olga.

"I'll never forget mom and dad," Rhyder smiled, peaceful if perhaps a little bittersweet. "Dad couldn't have known what his choice to volunteer would do. He just wanted to keep Grandma alive. He never wanted what came afterwards."

"He had a large effect on the Games and the nation, whether he intended on it or not," Enobaria paused for a moment. "Peridot was the first 'real' career to win, but she followed Baron's example, right? Think there would even be careers if Baron didn't volunteer?"

The question hung around for a while, nobody really wanted to answer it. Could so much blood and torture have been prevented had Baron simply said one sentence less on that fateful day?

"I'd certainly not exist if dad hadn't volunteered," Rhyder said. "Mom would've been in the Games either way though. Sure, she got forced to train a little by Grandpa, but she was reaped. She didn't volunteer."

"I guess some things are inevitable. Runa was alright, not that I can claim to have really known her that well," Enobaria glanced off to the side. "We didn't talk much. Too different, I suppose."

"Runa was a good person…" Olga trembled for a moment. "She was everything I wasn't. She was happy, she didn't need much. I needed everything and I still wasn't happy. Everything's gone…"

It was, again, a moment before anybody spoke.

"Rest in peace mom," Rhyder said, softly. "Speaking of which, since Rook is not here I'm guessing he's dead? How did he die?"

Olga could keep her composure no more. She wept.

"Olga?" Rhyder moved a little closer to the oldest of the surviving victors. "What is it? What happened to Rook?"

Olga looked tormented. "I killed him."

Everybody stared in silence.

"I killed him, and yet he's the one that had the last laugh. We never got along, mainly because he saw what I was too blind to see until the arena was destroyed," Olga let the tears freely fall. "When the arena was destroyed I was on my way to the president's mansion. I figured I'd be safe there, rewarded for my loyalty. How naïve I was to not think they'd have shot me on sight. I came across Rook in a back alley, clutching all sorts of stolen documents. The sort he claimed proved how I was wrong all along, that the Capitol never cared about me nor about Two. How I'd condemned many children to death after brainwashing them."

Olga wept more.

"We tussled and, as I never leave home without a gun, I ended up shooting up. Rook just laughed, having known he'd have died soon enough anyway. He laughed and laughed in my face, telling me to look at all the documents. They'd prove everything," Olga trailed off, haunted. "His last words were to tell me he won and I had lost decades ago."

"What did the documents say…?" Rhyder asked, still rattled over knowing how Rook died.

"Was it secret shit like the stuff Finnick spoke about?" Enobaria asked.

Olga slowly shook her head. It was a while before she had any idea what to say.

"It was gamemaker files. Their thoughts, their ideas… their opinions on who should live and who should end up rigged into dying," Olga began to shake, her whole body twitching. "Almost every single tribute I trained, all of those loyal fierce warriors… they were marked for death. They were called 'boring', 'cliché', 'the same person going by a different name'. By moulding them into what I thought a victor should be I only ended up killing them!"

Olga wept louder and louder.

"Boris was never going to win, even if Chassis' hadn't destroyed the arena. He was marked to be killed later on and rank in the range of fourth to seventh. I killed my own nephew," Olga covered her face with her hands. "It's all my fault. So many deaths across every district… it was all my fault. Fuck, I didn't even known that Snow poisoned my father at the same party Orion died at. I trusted him… I trusted him!"

Rhyder and Enobaria did not know what to say. What words existed, and in what order, that could calm Olga down? It was a question they knew no answer for.

"I heard how Boulder died," Rhyder continued, for it was the only thing he could do. "He was in the Nut when it got bought down. There was nothing left of him under all of the rubble."

"Boulder was a nice guy. I never had an issue with him," Enobaria snickered to herself. "Mainly because I was always laughing at how he got dropkicked like a football that one time. Huh, maybe that's why he didn't like me much. Eh, whatever."

"He was chill. Easy-going. Our district needed more people like that," Rhyder said. "Maybe it's not too late for that. Alas, it's too late for Boulder. He was a good man."

"Veringetorix was as well," Olga whispered. "At the time I just thought he was weak. Unpatriotic... now I feel like he might have been the strongest among us all along. It's hard enough to win the Games, but losing his alliance, realising how wrong it all was decades before I did and surviving in an arena with all of those pure evil monsters? That takes a will of titanium. I miss him. I wish I could tell him how sorry I am."

"Maybe you'll have a chance to, on the other side," Rhyder said. "Vercingetorix was a nice guy. He was somebody I could freely talk to about arena trauma. None of us understood it quite like he did. He could keep a secret."

"He was alright," Enobaria said. "I mean, maybe? He died before I ever met him."

"Vercingetorix was more than alright, he was amazing," Rhyder replied.

"You know who else was?" Enobaria smirked widely. "Dragon. Craziest career to ever live and probably the strongest tribute there ever was. If he wasn't such an idiot he could've scored a twelve!"

"Remember how he once ate a thousand eggs for breakfast because Boulder told him more than a hundred is dangerous?" Rhyder laughed openly. "What a legend."

"He lived like a legend," Enobaria agreed. "I wonder if he died like a legend."

"He did."

The victors all turned to look at Clarkson. The man looked… torn. Like he wasn't really sure how to feel.

"He saved my life," Clarkson continued. "Wattzon never made it back to Five and the Capitol were coming for me. Dragon showed up and got me to safety, at the cost of his own life."

"I tried to bring him with me when the arena fell, but he was too heavy," Wattzon sighed, shamefaced. "I had to leave him in the bar."

"For my sake it's likely just as well you did," Clarkson said. "Dragon died, but he died like a legend. An airship dropped a bunch of 'reaper mutts' into Five."

"They were in Two as well," Rhyder said, shuddering. "Some ungodly mixture of cockroach and wolf."

"Yeah, they were awful," Clarkson agreed. "Only a hundred of them against Dragon, though? They didn't stand a chance. Dragon died of his wounds soon after that, but he got me to safety. He was crazy, but… he was amazing."

"Seems like the perfect way for him to die. I think he'd have been alright with that," Enobaria added. "He always did enjoy mutt killing, though probably nowhere as much as Skinner."

"Speaking of mutt killing, that's what Mercy was doing before she died," Rhyder covered his face with his hands. "Reaper mutts, lots of them. She killed most of them, but the last few… it was horrible. She could have easily escaped, but she stayed to fight."

"Why would she do that?" Spud asked. "Running from danger is a totally understandable thing to do!"

"She was protecting children," Rhyder said, simply. "The thing she had always done throughout her life, in the arena and out."

"I thought she was the worst of our victors, aside Rook," Olga whispered, her voice almost cracking. "I was wrong, she was perhaps the best amongst us."

"She could really hold her own in drinking contests, I'll give her that," Enobaria added. "But you know who was a real party animal? Brutus."

Peeta shrank down into his seat at the mention of the victor whose neck he had broken. Katniss held his hand in support.

"Brutus was tons of fun to be around. Whether he was fooling around as the life of the party, chattering about that old Gameboy thing Boulder loaned him or his volunteer work around Two… he was a good man. It's a shame nobody outside of Two really got to see that," Rhyder glanced away, distinctly uncomfortable. "Especially because he's the only reason I'm here now. He saved me."

"He volunteered for you. I remember now," Katniss lightly clapped her forehead. "How did I miss that. So, that bit about him not being able to wait to get back in the arena?"

"Just putting on a show for the cameras," Rhyder said, nodding. "He died on his own terms, more or less. Looking out for me. I just…"

Rhyder trailed off into a lost silence, stumped as to what he could say.

"What about Lyme?" Peeta asked. "She was a rebel commander during the war. How did that happen?"

"Lyme, unbelievable as this may sound, was put under hypnosis during her Games," Enobaria said, shaking her head slightly. "Sounds crazy and stupid, I know. Any time she heard a finger snap she'd become a killing machine. She never wanted to be there."

Olga wept again.

"More crimes of mine. I did what I thought was right for her and Two. I had Tabbock hypnotise her; the man would do anything for profit," Olga looked down at the floor, broken. "I only ensured she'd ruin everything I once held dear after the arena was destroyed. I hear she died in the final battle of the war, but by then everything I worked for was already gone."

Peeta only spoke after a silence had reigned for several moments. "So, if Katniss had snapped her fingers when she met Lyme…?"

"By then it wouldn't have done anything," Rhyder stated. "Lyme had herself hypnotised again to overwrite the previous commands. A finger snap would just make her even more rebellious than she already was."

"Which, to be fair, is already pretty rebellious," Enobaria added. "We didn't talk much, but Lyme was okay. More than I can say about most people. Shame she died right at the end of the war."

"Do we know who did it?" Beetee asked.

"Shit if I know," Enobaria replied, shrugging. "More than likely they ended up dead. Between the gunfights and the pods the Capitol lost fuckloads of their troops."

"And we lost plenty of ours," Rhyder finished. "I always did like Lyme. I'm noticing it's becoming something of a pattern for us to say the fallen victors deserved better. Well, I'll continue that trend. Lyme deserved better."

"You know who else deserved better? Far better than I put the poor boy through?" Olga's cheeks were now stained with tears, her aged eyes stinging from the flow. "Magnus. Our last victor. He barely even got a chance to live. I put him in that arena. I forced him to do what he did… I took away his humanity, his soul, his everything."

Olga wept and spoke no more.

"Magnus wasn't like most of the tributes before him," Rhyder said. He managed to softly smile. "But, maybe that's not such a terrible thing. He knew the Games were wrong from the start, he just… played like a really tough outlier, if that makes sense? There was no pleasure."

"Not to mention he had no choice. The only reaped victor from Two aside your mother," Haymitch noted. "He was a good kid. Took me by surprised, actually. I mean…"

"What?" Katniss asked.

"You know that burn cream you got sponsored? Yeah, it wasn't just rich Capitolites that gave me that money. Magnus gave me a portion of it as well," Haymitch knocked back his drink. "Turns out he liked you a lot more than the tribute he was supposed to mentor, Cato. Such a shame that burning hovercraft crashed onto him down in Two."

Katniss was silent, mulling over this new information. Mulling over the boy who played a role in saving her life, one she'd never even known about.

She had no idea to feel about it. At the same time one boy from Two had been eager to kill her another had desired to help her. Just how much had she missed?

At last it was time for the fallen victors from One to be remembered. Crown and Platinum had no shortage of things they wanted to say about their deceased comrades. Harp, even with not being any sort of a victor, had things she wanted to say as well.

"Peridot was nice. She always used to buy candy from me, though most of the time I'd just make her stuff for three. She'd never admit it, but she was probably the biggest chocoholic that ever lived," Crown chuckled to himself at the thought. "Even as late into her life as Finnick's Games she was practically admitted to the stuff."

"She was prim and proper, a fine first victor for us… and about the biggest dork One ever had. Of course, it was just another reason we loved her," Platinum smiled in remembrance of Peridot. "I never did get into Cat Welder like she did, but we got along very well."

"We did," Harp agreed. "Knew her long. Good friend. Crystal was even better though. Crystal…"

"You two were perfect for each other," Crown said, gently holding his friend.

"Very perfect," Harp agreed. She sniffled, but nonetheless smiled in memory of her deceased lover. "Miss her always."

"Same here," Crown agreed. "Same here. I mean, she was so much fun. We badly needed fun in a place like Panem, especially back in those early decades."

"She was the best mentor there ever was," Platinum whispered, her thoughts dwelling back on the terrible training days before her own Games began. "Without her support and kindness I'd have been killed long ago."

The Ones smiled, fondly remembering their own unique bonds with the fourteenth victor.

Their smiles turned into scowls when they thought about the victor who came next.

"Bronze was a horrible, awful person," Crown said, disgusted.

"Absolutely. He was nothing but sick in the head," Platinum agreed. "Everything he did, it was all done as a conscious choice."

"Hate him," Harp agreed.

"You guys have no idea how good it felt to be the one to end his life," Crimson whispered. "It was the greatest feeling I've had in my entire life…"

Bronze was not dwelt upon for long. He wasn't worth the strain of remembering, and what little time was wasted on him contained none of the glory or admiration the monster of a man had wanted in life. There was only contempt.

"How about Dollar?" Crown asked, starting to smile again. "She was like nobody else. A real stand out amongst One's victors you know?"

"Even more than yourself?" Platinum asked with a light giggle.

"I mean, I'm a candy maker. Is that so strange when put beside a zombie survivalist?" Crown replied, winking.

"I guess not. She had one insane Games, that's for sure. Imagine if that monster that used to be the girl from Two had actually won," Platinum pondered this for a few moments. "I've got no idea what happened to her. Does anybody else?"

A chorus of no's was Platinum's response. Nobody had seen hide nor hair of Dollar for months.

"I guess the fact she's not here means she died," Platinum seemed upset at the thought. "We didn't talk much, but it still hurts to feel that. I always admired how she, well… she never cared about status. About fitting in. About being the most popular girl. She was comfortable being the quirky oddball she was. I wish I'd been like that growing up."

"Status is everything in One, or it was anyway. It's hard for it to not get into your head," Crown said. "You gotta have thick skin to do your own thing. So, of course, her skin must have been the thickest ever."

"Are zombies real?" Harp asked, gulping.

"Only on TV," Crown assured her.

"I think Skinner killed every leftover zombie mutt years ago anyway," Lammy added.

There was a silence. The next victor on the list was Mascara Court, but what could be said about her? Nobody was unaware of just how evil and dangerous the forty first victor had been in her short life. She was a victor who was difficult to discuss, even in impolite circumstances.

Her memory was almost a taboo in and of itself.

In the end only Crown spoke about the mentally damaged victor.

"I felt bad for Mascara. I honestly never hated her. Feared, mayhaps, but never hated," Crown said, pouring himself a full glass of soda. "She was born messed up and never got help. He meltdowns and instability was deliberately worsened by her family. She never had a choice beside ending up as a maniac. I just feel pity for her."

One toast was all Mascara got, but it was more than she had ever gotten in life. Only her rampages were ever toasted to, never the girl behind them who so badly needed help.

"I feel bad for Cashmere and Gloss," Peeta said, closing his eyes again. "If I'd known then what I know now… but of course Snow ensured nobody did…but… I just…"

"There was nothing you could have done," Platinum said. "That was how things were. District against district to keep us from looking at the Capitol. The twins had a painful life, but…"

"They're at peace?" Harp timidly asked.

"We can only hope," Platinum replied. "The fact all who hurt them are either imprisoned or confirmed to be dead is a start at any rate."

After some time spent thinking over Cashmere and Gloss there was but a single victor left to pay tribute towards. One who lived just long enough to do the right thing in the end.

"Augustus could have been another Bronze. In fact, he probably would have taken such a thing as a compliment when he won," Platinum, again, managed a small smile. "He learnt to be better than that in time. He learnt he was better than that. By the time of the quell the idea of being like Bronze probably scared him."

"He really came through for me the night the arena went down," Rhyder added. "He really had my back. The title 'cavalier career' suited him in the end."

"I remember how he used to be obsessed with mentoring a victor, even more than I ever was," Haymitch recalled.

"At first it was all about glory and record breaking," Platinum replied. "But after a few years, most of all when his niece died, it was just to save an innocent child."

"…Who was his niece?" Katniss asked, a bad feeling coming over her.

"Glimmer," was all Platinum said in response.

Katniss didn't make a sound.

---

Several hours went by until the daylight outside of the café had turned into a dying sunset. It wouldn't be long until it was time for the victors to return home, or at least check into a hotel for the night.

For a while there had been nothing but story telling going on. Stories of the victors both alive and dead, stories of decades worth of friendships and conflicts. Stories of a harsher era that seemed to be over at last

Haymitch was midway through recounting his legendary drinking contest against Chaff, Pasture, Ron, Blight and Porsche when the door opened. The guards on duty permitted the new guest entry into the building.

President Paylor's sudden appearance was a shock to all present for the party. Not one among them had been informed that the nation's new leader was to be there.

"Good evening all," Paylor began. "Have you been enjoying the party?"

Paylor continued without waiting for a response. She sighed, as if she was pained just to be there. Indeed, each step she took seemed to require quite a lot of effort. Never had the president looked so defeated and disappointed, though from what or in who nobody could say for sure.

"I so badly wish I was here to say 'can I join in with whatever activity you're putting on', but… I'm here on business. Business of national security," Paylor turned to glance at the guards by the door. "Seal it off. Nobody gets in or out for the next hour at least."

The guards saluted and headed off to fulfil their task. Paylor turned back to the small crowd of victors, struggling to get the words out.

She really didn't want to do this. But, what choice did she have?

The power was out of her hands. Being president didn't change reality.

"What's going on Paylor?" Haymitch asked.

Paylor was silent for several long moments.

"The districts are still angry. I don't know how nobody saw this coming," Paylor put a hand over her face. "But… the fact the Capitol is still alive, that its citizens are still going about their lives, many as though nothing actually happened… it's not sitting well with people."

Paylor began to pace back and forth.

"On average there have been anywhere from five to ten murders a week, all against Capitol citizens. The districts are furious, they're not happy that the Capitol is just 'getting away with it'. They want revenge and are taking it into their own hands to get it. If this doesn't stop then before long it'll just be more war and chaos. The fighting will never end," Paylor ceased her pacing. "We can't just kill everybody in the Capitol, of course. That's insane."

"Got that right," Peeta agreed. "So, do you have a plan? …Wait… no… no!"

Paylor looked tormented.

"It might be the only way to stop hundreds and hundreds of acts of vigilante justice from coming to pass, each one taking lives," Paylor gazed over the nineteen victors. "That is why you were all called here today. There are no other victors left within Panem's borders beside the nineteen of you. You are officially all who remain. With every last one of you now present…"

Paylor sighed again.

"We're going to have a revote. A continuation of Coin's proposal. Should there be a Hunger Games with Capitol children? It might be enough to stop even further bloodshed over the next few decades. We trade twenty three lives for hundreds of all ages," Paylor couldn't keep her gaze on the victors. "Nobody can abstain. You can vote yes or no, majority rules. By all means, take your time if you would like to. I don't feel ready for this either, but circumstances have pushed my hand."

A few moments passed as the victors sat in a completely stunned silence. A Capitol Games. A final brutal bloody contest, with the children of those who had tormented them for decades. It was yes or no. It was just one of two words.

It was entirely their own choice.

"No!" Peeta spoke before anybody else. "That's insane! I said no when Coin said it and I'll say no here and now. This is wrong, that's all there is to it. It's crazy and wrong!"

"Too right," Annie agreed. "This won't accomplish anything, it'll only hurt even more people. Nobody deserves the arena and Finnick would never have wanted this."

"They're right," Katniss said, firmly nodding. "I only agreed last time to lower Coin's guard. But this time? My answer is no. Prim wouldn't have wanted this. Not in a million years."

Katniss' response was a broken sort of laughter. She turned, watching Crimson until the older women finally quietened down.

"Are you mad? Like… are you actually mad? Do you not remember what these savages did? What they cheered over and put us through?" Crimson clenched her jaw for a moment. "Yes. Yes. A hundred times yes. They deserve to suffer for what they have done. Even if they didn't 'buy' me, they sure as hell loved to cheer over the deaths of our kids. Throw them to the wolves, let them see how 'fun' it really is. I'll never forgive them."

There was a silence for a few moments, no sounds other than Crimson's strained breathing.

"Well said," Johanna remarked, slowly clapping. "Same as last time, yes. Let them enjoy their own game. They killed my family. I have no shits to give, sorry not sorry."

"Frankly I just want to see some blood," Enobaria purred, already more eager than she had been all day. "Let them have it."

Everybody was silent once again, nobody really wanting to be the next one to speak. Paylor quietly state that the vote was three a side, thirteen votes to go.

"Just saying, if I had a vote I'd say yes," Trevy shrugged at those around him. "They would've done it forever. What's once when compared to that? Both sides killed people in the war, so we're already 'just like them'. This is just one final battle."

"I'd vote no," Harp looked uncharacteristically firm. "No means no!"

"Well, I have a vote and I feel the same way Harp does. This will only deepen the divide. Losing ourselves to revenge will only make things worse," Beetee shook his head. "Absolutely not, there are other ways and we can find them together."

"Well, I think Trevy has a point," Wattzon replied. He sighed, but soon hardened his resolve. "It's just once. Besides, this might keep all my Capitol friends safe from vigilante attacks. All of them are out of reaping age and have no children in the reaping either. I can vote yes for their safety and not have to feel too guilty. Just as much as I already was; I can handle that much."

"This is crazy," Peeta whispered, starting to shake.

Katniss gently held Peeta close to herself, gazing around at the victors who had yet to cast their votes. She hoped beyond hope they'd make the right choice and say no. But, she couldn't tell them what the right choice was.

When all was said and done, was it about right and wrong?

"Four a side, eleven votes to go," Paylor stated.

"My parents would never agree to something like this. It'd be an insult to their memory to agree to something like this… they raised me better than that. You can count me the hell out because I'm saying no," Rhyder gave a firm thumbs down. "This might restart the cycle and I'm in the business of ending it."

Snag was silent. He glanced at Paisley, as if looking into her mind. Paisley did much the same for several eternal seconds. Snag sighed, raising his hand to get attention over to himself.

"Because of the Capitol and the 'game' they loved so very much, I never got to raise Bloom. She was killed before she could really live at all. A parent scored has only one answer to give," Snag took a deep breath. "Yes. For Bloom's death and how the audience either laughed over it or merely got upset they lost a bet. That's my final answer."

"Mine too," Platinum agreed with a firm nod. "Those days of isolation, I'd give anything to forget them… but, I never will. I'll make sure they don't forget what they did to me… and more importantly what they did to Spinel. She was forced into a Games she never should have entered. My baby girl… for her, I say yes."

"Six to five in favour of having the Games," Paylor said.

"Hang on… guys… everybody stop!" Spool yelled above the sudden chatter. "Here's a better idea, why don't we just get whoever is left of the gamemakers and Snow's ministers so they can get put in the arena? They of all people deserve it the most, am I even wrong?"

"That… might actually work," Lammy agreed.

Paylor's sudden frown did not give anybody much reassurance.

"They have all either been killed or are awaiting their turn to be thrown into Snow's old woodchipper within the next three days," Paylor replied. "At any rate there aren't enough of them for a Hunger Games."

"Then my vote is no. I'm not doing this to children," Spool crossed his arms firmly. "Absolutely not."

"Nice one bro," Tag said, fist bumping his twin.

"We stand at six to six," Paylor continued. "Seven votes left."

"I said I was with Katniss to the end," Haymitch began. "…But, this is my own choice. My previous vote was for much the same as hers was – lower Coin's guard. Without that shit hanging over my head… just once?"

Paylor nodded.

"And this is in an attempt to prevent even further bloodshed?" Haymitch continued. "Twenty three compared to hundreds, maybe thousands one day?"

Paylor nodded a second time.

"It's sick, it's cruel… but our nation is going to be that way, except worse, if we just sit back and coast on by. With that in mind… yes," Haymitch concluded his statement by knocking back a drink.

Katniss and Peeta had difficulty looking Haymitch's way for several moments.

"Well, my vote is gonna have to be no because like guys they're just children and I'd rather not have anything in common with the old regime because holy cow they were assholes and I'm not an asshole just a friendly candy maker like seriously there must be a better way so my answer is no no no!" Crown paused to take a breath. "Sorry about that… the heat of the moment just got me talking, you know?"

"I understand," Gwenith assured Crown. "The Games are cruel like nothing else. They're nothing short of pure evil. Evil will not safeguard the future. Kindness and love will. I'll do as I know Mizar would have and vote no. You could never get me to agree to this, ever."

"Eight to seven in favour of having no Games," Paylor said. "Four votes left."

"My vote is gonna be yes," Spud gulped hard. "Most of these people are still blind to what they did and just how awful things were. They think nothing has changed aside who is in charge. Let's educate them…"

"Bentley would never have wanted this," Numi wiped away a few tears. "…He was always better than I am, and that's not changed even now. My friends, my family… they're all gone. The Capitol took all of them away from me. Bentley and Porsche, mom and dad, Herbie and Tamora… Nuvi is still missing and she might be dead for all I know. They took a lot from me, so I'll take something from them… yes."

"No, just… no!" Lammy stood up, stunned by what she was seeing. "Please guys, there are other ways to get payback and not kill children! Come on, let's no be so hasty here. I know revenge can be tempting, I'm tempted too after all the children who died in the Games and all the slaughter in ten during the war. But… that's just not me. That's not who I am. I can't say yes in good conscience, not when so many innocents will die. No."

"Right on Lammy," Spool said, gently taking Lammy's hand as she sat down.

Everybody was silent for several long moments. As one the victors and Paylor turned towards the sole person who had not yet cast their vote. The one person who had not said a word, far too deep in their mind to have time for things like talking.

"…Olga, the decision is yours," Paylor said, seeming relieved. "The vote is deadlocked. Nine have said yes. Nine have said no. Your vote is the only one that remains… it's all up to you now. Should we have a Capitol Games, or should we not?"

Olga weakly raised her head. Only shame and self-loathing was on her face. A wrinkled, miserable wreck was all that remained of the long dead proud and strong patriot.

"Everything I loved is dead. Everyone I cared about died for no reason all because of me. All that I worked so hard to build and safeguard has been destroyed. Frankly I would be fine to enter the arena and face my punishment. A monster like me deserves nothing else, not when I was so blind and caused so much suffering," Olga wiped a tear away. "But… it was the Capitol that brainwashed me and aided me in doing the same to others. As much as I lack any excuse, so too do they. They knew the pain they caused from the start and revelled in it. I knew the pain I paused, but remained blind to how… pointless it all was. How it was only about torture, not justice."

Olga sighed.

"I'm not sure if this is torture or justice. Maybe both… maybe neither? I'm too old and used up to know much of anything anymore," Olga paused for a moment. "Either way, I've killed enough people. But, if I do nothing then even more will die. I can't stop killing, it seems… but if my final act is to lower the eventual body count and punish the system that started the whole damn thing, then I am alright with that."

Olga, for the briefest of moments, had a flash of her old firmness.

"Yes."

Nobody spoke for a long time after that. It was Paylor who ended up having to break the silence and somehow speak over her own horror.

"…That settles it then," Paylor said, trying not to give any emotions away. "With a total of ten votes over nine, it appears majority rules and the Capitol Games shall happen after all. One final Hunger Games and it'll be over at last. I'll make the announcement in the near future and we'll get to work on that. Maybe after that we'll finally have peace."

Paylor made her way to the doors. She paused, glancing back.

"The nineteen of you victors will each mentor one of the tributes. We'll find people to fill in the five empty mentor slots in due course. Until then, farewell. Enjoy the rest of the party."

Paylor took her leave and the room was left in a state of stunned and uneasy silence. Some victors were horrified. Some looked practically gleeful. Gwenith actually cried.

Only Katniss spoke.

"What have we done?"

---

Thought I was just gonna end this story with a simple victor party and the survivors just having a nice time bonding and trying to move on from the past? Think again! I always make sure to end of a story in a way at least slightly unexpected. Either that or completely chaotic, haha! I never said the victor party was going to be the epilogue, and while all victors on the walk of victors had their stories told, did I ever outright say Magnus was the last one we would ever hear the story of? Nope!

So yeah, Capitol Games are gonna be a thing, and we still have one more victor to meet. One you might even know of if you paid very close attention in a certain prior chapter. As this fic is stated to take place between the end of the Mockingjay Rebellion and the epilogue years in the future, well, I saw a bit of leeway to squeeze in a Capitol Games as, hey, is it reeeeeeeeally confirmed it's quite so impossible? Well, either way, stay tuned for our final victor…

Hope you guys overall liked the reveal of who managed to survive the second rebellion. Any shocks here, or was it an expected line-up? Some may not have had their fates outright revealed, but be assured, once we get to the actual epilogue there will be no stone left unturned. But such an ending is not here yet, so I'll see you all in the next chapter.

---

VOTES

YES - 10

#10: Olga Machete (Finally sees just what she did to District Two and what the Capitol has done to the Districts and humanity itself. Voting to punish those who brainwashed is her first step to atonement)
#29: Crimson Flanders (The Capitol bought her body and essentially raped her for decades. She wants them all to die and thinks one Games is nowhere close to enough punishment)
#34: Snag Nakamura (The Capitol had Bloom reaped and horrifically killed. That is unforgivable; Logger may have done it, but they essentially 'provided the knife'. The punishment fits the crime)
#44: Platinum Twist (The Capitol had her daughter forced into the arena and killed horribly, and the only reaction was cheering. They ought to feel that sort of pain to understand what it's like)
#50: Haymitch Abernathy (Pure pragmatism. This might stop the vigilante attacks and murders. It's still awful, but 23 is less awful than potentially having dozens of deaths to deal with)
#55: Wattzon Holmes (Wants to punish the remnants of Snow's regime and stop long term potential harm against his Capitol friends, all of whom are aged out of the reaping)
#62: Enobaria Golding (Simply wants to see some blood and destruction. Claims that, had he been able to open his eyes a bit like she did, Brutus would've been in favour of it)
#66: Spud Munroe (Wants to force the Capitol to face the reality and the terror of what they've forced so many poor district children into)
#71: Johanna Mason (The Capitol killed her family, tortured her and committed so many atrocities. No reason it's not justified to make them suffer for it.)
#72: Numi Marrolto (The Capitol killed Herbie, Bentley, Tamora, her parents and possibly Nuvi, alongside 20% of D6. As much as she believes in Bentley's pacifism message, she just cannot let that go)

NO – 9

#13: Gwenith Rosebud (Believes the Games are wrong, plain and simple. Nobody should suffer them. Kindness and love must always be chosen above hatred and sadism)
#24: Crown Martins (Under no circumstances will he hurt a child, no matter who that child is nor how evil their family)
#37: Beetee Latier (The Games would cause unrest and fresh waves of anger. A further schism would only worsen things)
#39: Rhyder Overwhill (His parents opposed the Games and he does too. He won't risk restarting the cycle)
#40: Lammy Phyronix (Tempted due to what the Peacekeepers did to the children of Ten, but would rather have Peacekeepers in the arena. Can't bring herself to vote in children)
#42: Spool Nylon (Would rather send the Gamemakers and Ministers into the arena. Not children, that's not the game he prefers to play)
#70: Annie Cresta (Finnick would not have wanted it and either way it's nothing short of sadism)
#74: Katniss Everdeen (Prim would never have wanted this, and her love for Prim outweighs hatred for the Capitol)
#74: Peeta Mellark (As before, he thinks it's crazy. More bloodshed is not something he feels can solve anything, and even if it does it's not worth the deaths)

STRANDED IN HAWAII

#35: Librae Ogilvy (Would have voted no, feeling it's uncool and frankly unjust in cruelty)

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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), Platinum Twist (44th Games), Gloss Lord (63rd Games), Cashmere Lord (64th Games), Augustus Braun (67th 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), Mercy Gregor (46th Games), Brutus Gunn (49th Games), Lyme Rabe (51st Games), Enobaria Golding (62nd Games), Magnus Sterlingshire (73rd Games)

District 3: Honorius Perthshire (5th Games), Pi Orbit (22nd Games), Beetee Latier (37th Games), Wiress Plummer (47th Games), Yohan Fairbane (58th Games)

District 4: Museida Selkirk (3rd Games), Mags Flanagan (11th Games), Tide Luther (23rd Games), Librae Ogilvy (35th Games), Anchor Paddock (52nd Games), Finnick Odair (65th Games), Ron Stafford (68th Games), Annie Cresta (70th Games)

District 5: Shunt Gaspar (12th Games), Isobel Sparks (18th Games), Crimson Flanders (29th Games), Porter Tripp (38th Games), Neon Erg (48th Games), Wattzon Holmes (55th Games), Arendellian Spinner III (57th Games)

District 6: Chassis Macalister (31st Games), Bentley Corduroy (54th Games), Porsche London (56th Games), Numi Marrolto (72nd Games)

District 7: Pliny Aransio (2nd Games), Fir Buzz (9th Games), Jack Tylos (21st Games), Snag Nakamura (34th Games), Blight Jordan (53rd Games), Logger Barlow (61st Games), Johanna Mason (71st Games)

District 8: Woof Casino (16th Games), Paige Murphy (30th Games), Spool Nylon (42nd Games), Cecelia Mog (60th Games)

District 9: Mizar Aldjoy (1st Games), Gwenith Rosebud (13th Games), Teff Withers (28th Games), Laurel Flamsteel (36th Games), Tabbock Summers (43rd Games), Trevy Vex (Escaped 55th Games)

District 10: Stallion March (26th Games), Lammy Phyronix (40th Games), Pasture Gallows (59th Games), Skinner Alecto (69th Games)

District 11: Bear Redfoot (15th Games), Seeder Howell (33rd Games), Chaff Mitchell (45th Games), Spud Munroe (66th Games)

District 12: Duke Saint-Rose (6th Games), Haymitch Abernathy (50th Games), Katniss Everdeen (74th Games), Peeta Mellark (74th Games)

The Capitol: N/A