Velvetina Silverette

17 years old

~There's a proverbial difference between being arrogant and confident~

I don't wanna live forever, 'cause I know I'll be living in vain
And I don't wanna fit wherever
I just wanna keep calling your name until you come back home
I just wanna keep calling your name until you come back home
I just wanna keep calling your name until you come back home

I curl my toes and wince in pain before ripping off the strip of wax and letting out a hiss.

I'm not new to the feeling and it's not really too bad but where's the fun in admitting that? The number one rule of being a career is to not acknowledge when you're bleeding out but make sure a tiny nick is enough to send you into agony.

Most of the kids where I train have got that down to pat. I've seen the same kid that didn't cry when he broke his leg after a load of weights dropping on him, scream that he was dying because of a slightly misaimed sword.

It barely caught his fingernail.

Bella comes in, hearing my exclamations of pain. Her face twists into mock sympathy but a small glare from me is all it take to send her into peals of laughter. "You always make the dumbest faces when you do that Vell," she says between laughs and I glare at her.

You'd be forgiven for thinking she was about nine with the amount of maturity she shows, but at thirteen, she's actually almost ready for the Test.

As far as I know, all career districts have the test, but seeing as we pretty much get taught nothing in school, they might not. It's not a hard test, but when you're fourteen years old, you get evaluated. From around 60 starters, 30 make it through. It used to be twenty, but pretty much everyone in the District is an idiot and we have at least four deaths per age group.

There was also that year where fifteen of the twenty tributes got sick and died from a highly contagious disease and we couldn't submit anyone, because the five that didn't die had to drop out of training for almost a year and once you lose that long it's almost impossible to make up.

I'm pretty faithful in Bella's ability to make it through the Test, although I almost wish she couldn't.

My feelings about the games are complicated. We desperately need the money that would come from winning, and I know with the right luck I'm good enough to win, but I'm not sure how comfortable I am with killing kids.

I flip my middle finger at Bella, too busy to really concentrate and still laughing she manages to get out, "When you're ready, mom wants you down for early lunch,"

My legs are pretty much done, so I rinse them off in water and shave off the parts I missed because of my annoying sibling.

I look in my wardrobe to find the right outfit. Most of the girls from One, without being stereotypical, wear flows pink dresses. Whilst I don't mind wearing stuff like that, my almost too slender build means that those sort of dresses just don't fit right, especially since most girls my age fit under the curvy muscular category.

When I was a kid this was a disadvantage, and until I found throwing knives, no one thought I would make it through, anywhere near to being chosen. Through knives, though I worked up to spears and now, whilst they're very hidden, I do have light muscles, though you can only really see if I flex.

In the end I pick out a blouse, paired with my favourite black skirt. My special-occasion flats complete the look and I go downstairs.

"You look so gorgeous 'Tina," my mom says smiling. There are tears in her eyes but we both know I have to go, "I'm gonna miss you so much."

We hug, but then Bella and Cleo join us, making our arms crowded. We laugh and go to sit down for lunch.

Lunch was simple French onion soup, but the bread is warm and soft. It smells like home. I never thought of myself as emotional, but almost crying over bread is a sign that maybe I am.

As usual, Bella talked too much, and Cleo too little, but unlike usual, no one told Bella to shut up, making her pout for a total of five seconds. Instead we listen to her chatter and try not to think about how this could be my last time sitting down.

I'm gonna miss this.

Lucretius Braxton

18 years old

~Dancing is the hidden language of the soul of the body~

Hold me closer tiny dancer
Count the headlights on the highway
Lay me down in sheets of linen
You had a busy day today

"What were you doing?" My father glares at my sweaty face and looks at me suspiciously. "Why didn't you leave me a note?"

I rolled my eyes, making sure he couldn't see me before answering. "I was training, I must have forgotten." Not a complete lie, but not the truth either.

He narrows his eyes, clearly not believing me but I stand firmly, clenching my hands. My dad isn't abusive, but he's swung at me before. Always bare fisted, and never hard, but enough to make me wary. It's like that for most guys in One. The other Districts can belittle us for being 'girly' sometimes, just because our trade is jewellery, but my st of us are as hardcore as anyone from Two.

"Who were you with?"

I think fast. He won't like the real answer. "Deymond," I look him straighton the eye as to be convincing but not so straight that it'll look suspicious. That time it was a complete lie.

Dad doesn't believe I should have a girlfriend. Last time I mentioned that I was dating someone he completely flipped. In his opinion I should wait until I've won the games, but when I told Lily that, I believe her exact reaction was to laugh and kiss me. And when Lily kisses you, nothing else matters.

Lily, for lack of better words is beautiful. But really, it's a complete lack. When I watch her dance, she barely seems to be a girl. She's like.. I can't explain. You have to see Lily before you truly understand.

When we met, the first thing she did was laugh at my name, and then correct my knife aim. I responded by laughing at hers right back and showing her how to hold a spear correctly. When we met each other, a good eight years ago, she was useless with a spear, now it's her second strongest weapon. It's the same with knives for me.

But one thing neither of us had was balance. I remember how Lily would always look such a graceful ten year old that often our trainer would hold her up in front of the class to show her straight back and neck.

And then, as she would walk back to stand with the rest of us, she would trip flat on her feet.

One day, our trainer- Anitha (no one knows her first name) took us aside and began to give us private training. Not in weaponry though, in ballet. I wish I could have said we were naturals from the start, but we weren't.

But we both instantly fell in love with it. I pretended to hate it, but I managed to keep that up for all of five minutes. I don't know why Anitha took it upon herself to help us, but we would spend at least two hours a day, after training had finished, going over routines, progressing slowly but surely.

And two years ago, five years after we began training, we both saved up our money, from parents, odd jobs and even pennies we found on the street and Anitha sent an order to the Capitol to buy us pointe shoes. It's hard work, and a lot of money mantaining them, but I love dancing.

"Oi fairy boy, look at me when I'm speaking to you," he clicks hid fingers in front of my face, breaking me out of my thoughts and I inaudibly sigh. Here lies a prime example of why I can't tell my family.

"Are you going to see your mother?" dad asks, his face screwing up as if he's said a bad word.

"Nah, I saw her yesterday, and I'll see her when she says goodbye, I'm gonna go take a shower,"

By this, I mean I'll practice some basic moves, although I don't have my shoes with me due to Anitha keeping them safe and easy working much better when Lily is with me. Going through the positions slowly and methodically helps clear my head and with the buzz of excitement I get from the idea of volunteering, I need that.

Lily didn't want me to volunteer. For years it was all we could talk about, but as we realised we the same age and we couldn't both go, the excitement began to wear off, replaced by only talking about dancing.

It was decided by the two of us that I would volunteer. Lily was in the running but declined. She would have been just as capable of going as me and it was never due to sexism, but I was pretty much the best guy by a long shot and I've sparred with Velvetina, and so has Lily and we're all pretty even.

"You changed yet? It's time to go if you want a good place!"

In his own weird way, dad can be caring sometimes.

I yell back an affirmative response and give myself one last look over. I look fine.

"See you in half an hour," I say to him, and he nods at me awkwardly. We aren't people to hug things out with each other. The only person I'd ever hug nowadays is Lily.

I touch the wooden door frame, almost for luck and I walk out of our house.

I'm ready.

Lolite Beurnet

Winner of the 111th

45 years old

I stand on stage looking down at all the careers in training. You can tell which ones thrive in the academy and which ones hate it from a glance. Next to me stands Glint. He won the 119th but it aged him in a way it didn't age me. He's constantly muttering to himself and shows beginnin signs of a paranoid personality disorder. I mentored him as a cocky 17 year old and despite him being almost insufferable, I miss that.

I've noticed the signs of a drug addiction starting, but I can't say anything. It's not my place as a previous mentor or an acquaintance and as long as he doesn't become violent towards our new tributes, I'm powerless to stop.

"Welcome everyone to the 137th annual Hunger Games. I trust everybody is ready for the reapings to begin, but this year we have a surprise!" This startles me. From the start, every reaping has been the same, except of course the quarter quells.

"This year we have a video to explain the history of Panem and why the games are necessary for us! I hope you enjoy and then we will start the reaping!"

I think they did this before the second rebellion, but they stopped using the video method after and it was never reinstated.

Everyone shifts uncomfortably as it starts, and even Glint nearly smiles. Even if they continue the film idea, they will have to replace this one. It's poorly acted and their attempts for special effects are almost embarrassing. Finally the train wreck is over and the escort- I'm not sure of her name, she's different from the one last year, steps back up.

"Wasn't that enjoyable!" Her voice leaves no room for that to have been a question. "Now, on with the reapings!"

"Topaz Flintwood!"

No sooner are the words out, does the chosen girl, Velvetina Silverette volunteer. She looks like the perfect career, although her body is more reminiscent of the fisher girls from Four than perhaps many of the girls in this District fit.

"Congratulations to our volunteer! And now for the boys, Rarity Marble!"

Many of the boys from One, moved in a heavy way, but for lack of a better word, Lucretius Braxton, for lack of a better word, glided. It was almost pretty to watch, even if it was just walking through a crowd. If he won, he could almost certainly take up dancing as his talent.

The nodded and each other in a way that suggested that they knew each other as they shook hands. Possible allies.

"Congratulations to our stunning tributes!" Our escort trilled. This was my and Glint's cue to start leading them off the stage so I began to walk down the steps. Glint took a few beats longer but soon we were both leading them to the tall, stunningly white building, where two peacekeeper's led them to their separate rooms.

"Ready to get on the train?" I asked Glint and he nodded jerkily. Let the games begin.

Velvetina Silverette

"We forgot to give this to you earlier," said Bella, "It isn't much, I tried saving up, but I kept spending my money on sweets,"

I laughed despite myself

"So," continued Cleo, "because of HER, we only had half the amount of money we wanted. At least I can save up!" Cleo was shy most of the time, but our her with Bella and they can argue like no tomorrow,"

"So, here," they say in creepy unison. I hate it when they do that. They're not twins, but Cleo is tall enough despite being almost two years younger, that people mistake them for it all the time.

They hand me a bracelet. I've seen enough jewellary to know it's not real gold, and so have they, but none of us care.

It's from family. And gold is tacky anyway

Lucretius Braxton

"Brill.." It's a nickname I never use for her. We're sitting together and enjoying our last few moments. "If, if I win,"

"Yeah? You should. You better,"

I give her a half smile.

"Can we get married? Not like a huge Victor wedding, a small little thing. Isajt you to be the one to live with me,"

Lily looks at me. We've never discussed what would happen, but I think we always knew if one of us won, we'd be living together.

"Lucretius Braxton," she looks at me straight faced. "I would be honoured," She suddenly slaps her palm to her face. "Almost forgot," she opens her bag and hands me a small book, "Open this on the train,"

I look into her eyes and she smiles, I begin to lean in and our lips lightly graze when I hear a coughing sound.

"Time's up, get out."

She squeezes my hand one last time and with a swish of her dark hair, she turns and walks out, the peacekeeper leading her.

For sponsor points, review or PM the answer

How many siblings does Velvetina have? What are their names (each name worth 5 points)

Why did Lucretius and Lily start ballet? (10 points)

Scoreboard:

(When the games start, I'll put a list up)

Please review what you thought of these tributes as I would love to know what you guys think and if you have any issues. If you want me to include anything or do something different please tell me as I'd love to make this an enjoyable read for everyone involved.

If you have time, please submit a tribute as I'd love to be able to start district Two soon and perhaps have the actual games as a holiday project.