District Five

Vis Provo (16) D5M

To the naked eye, all there would appear on the dirty tablecloth that was once white nothing but dirt. Now brown and dusty, the tablecloth needed a wash, a very thorough wash, to clean the grime. However, a young boy, presumably of South Asian descent (although nobody knew that) could notice something more. He couldn't really explain what it was, but at some parts the dirt was more than the rest. It was so uneven and had arranged itself in such a bizarre fashion that when the young boy ran his finger over the dirt that was raised, he found himself outlining what could have been a drawing of a horse. He had seen horses on television, and since nobody knew about focusing more than Vis, it was a pleasant surprise to discover such a pattern on this age-old, battered down tablecloth. The boy lifted it in his hands, his soft brown eyes searching for something more, anything, that he could focus on. His mind was torn between wanting to keep looking and to just wash it straight away, for the dirtiness of the piece of cloth was not something to laugh about and frankly revolting to his senses, but at the same time his eyes feasted on the pattern that the hands had discerned. Cleanliness was of paramount importance to Vis, but patterns and wonders of nature, however small, also had their special places in his heart.

But sometimes, compulsive tendencies win over the human mind and its obsessions, and soon the young boy was seen taking the cloth towards the bucket of water that was situated in what could be called a 'laundry room' although the family members bathed there too. The wooden bucket rested on the cold stone floor which in turn also accommodated such minute cracks that Vis was forced to look upon them every time he visited. Even now, as he crouched down in front of the bucket, his eyes sneakily turned towards the cracks, as if trying to hide from the world what they were doing. The cracks were shaped in a weird and haphazard way, but on closer examination, Vis saw that a few cracks joined together to form an utterly distorted and magnificently tilted 'Y'. Of course, the boy had known of the crack for a while now, but every time he came here, he was engrossed with it. It was so dazzlingly captivating and so perfectly natural that Vis couldn't help but appreciate it with his whole heart.

Smiling to himself slightly, he dipped the soiled cloth into the bucket, rubbing the cloth as hard as he could. It was in vain, he knew, for dirt and stains like these required detergent and there was no detergent. He'd have to wash it again later, but that did not make him stop. If he managed to remove some dirt from it, it would be easier later. Stalling things never worked, and Vis not only understood it but also made sure that he wasn't one of those incredibly wise people who understand things but never implement on them. He knew he was probably getting late to work, but he had gone very early the previous day and had stayed there late, so it would balance it out. Plus, his employer was pretty soft on him, considering his dedication and efforts. So, he rubbed and rubbed, his eyes fixed on the pale yellowish-white walls around him. They were white once, when he was young, but now they needed painting or at least white washing. However, Vis knew that those were foreign concepts in a place like District Five. He should be grateful that had a house that was this large and had three rooms other than the living hall. No, he wasn't rich. This house was generations old, from before the dark days. His father had it repaired when Vis was a child because it threatened to fall down any moment. It had cost a bit too much though. There was too much loan and for a time they could afford a meal only once a day. Those days was behind them now; Vis' job at the hydroelectric power plant paid well. It took years to repay the loan but now father and son were clear of the debt.

It was all about balance after all, the light brown skinned boy thought. They took a huge loan and repaired the house, which was good. So, they couldn't have enough to eat, which was bad. The two aspects of the situation balanced each other out and created a state of neutrality. Father and son worked hard to repay the loan and now loved a middle-class life, which was good. In return, they had to work even harder to maintain it, which was bad. That was life. It was either black or white and Dame Nature had so arranged that both were needed to create grey. Without black and without white, grey couldn't be formed and in the same way, without good and without bad, a balance couldn't be obtained. Neutrality couldn't be achieved.

Vis' mother, a beautiful and smart woman who went by the name Mira, had passed away giving birth to him. Young Vis never had the chance to know her, to delight himself in the company of his mother. Often, he thought that something good would balance such a bad happening. But years had passed and no such news came. Lately, Vis had realised something else. Maybe the very fact that he and his father were alive and in proper mental and physical condition was the good that balanced that wrong. But he still hoped, because ultimately the world strives on hope alone.

The boy now saw that the cloth had lost most of its dirt and dust and only a few light stains remained. Those would require detergent, and so he hanged the cloth on the unoccupied clothesline, the water dripping from its ends vertically downwards. Without really wanting to, Vis was soon watching the drops. They were rather small and he really appreciated gravity. Ideally, a water droplet should be spherical. However, due to the sheer might of earth's gravitational force, it wasn't. The lower end was broader while the upper end simply tapered to a point. Beautiful.

However, Vis acknowledged that he would probably be too late now. So, he proceeded towards his own small and cosy room to comb his dark brown hair and to change into his work overalls. There was a lot of work to do today and Vis knew that it would pay off sometime.

Liya Chiaro (17) D5F

Some souls, when they come into existence, are calm and peaceful and of a much docile demeanour. They remain quiet and proper, peaceful and content. However, sometimes this trend is broken, and a restless soul may descend on this earth. For them, movement is what gives them satisfaction. Being quiet and peaceful is against their nature and is as good as a punishment for them.

Liya Chiaro didn't like being in the house.

No, she did not hate her family. In fact, her family meant the world to her. Her accepting mother, her partner-in-crime brother, her elder loving sister and her honest father showered her with support and adoration. But her mind, her young, powerful mind was of a curious nature, and nothing but the new took its fancy. Where was the fun staying at home? Alas, many people did not understand the simplicity of that statement but all she cared about were her family and friends, so it did not matter.

However, sometimes it went further and deeper than that. Sometimes, despite wanting to help, people couldn't. But at least, at least her family understood her need to be outside. So that fine day, when the birds would have chirped in any other place than Five, and where the smoke appeared to be much less, Liya was seen running on the road that was full of potholes filled with muddy water. It was cool that day, and even as the sky itself thundered and shed tears, the girl basked in the beauty of rains. She knew many people who disliked rains and preferred the sun, but honestly, both of them were meant to be beautiful and to be enjoyed to the fullest. Her long brown hair fell down in a straight fashion around her lithe body. Her grey eyes, that so matched the hue of the weeping sky, glinted as the tears fell on her face.

"Liya!" Connor called out and immediately started coughing as the water filled his mouth. Spitting it out, he covered his mouth and called out again, "Liya!"

"Yeah Connor?" Liya replied aloud over the roaring downpour. She could barely make out her brother's form due to the heavy screen that the rain had formed.

"Come inside. You can fall ill!"

Liya laughed out, throwing her head back, forgetting about covering her mouth. Soon, she was also coughing up hysterically as her throat burned. However, even as she tried to empty herself of the rain water, she was only thinking of her brother. Connor himself was reluctant to go home and was only calling her for formality. She knew that nobody would be happier than him if she refused, and then they could fall sick together happily.

"I'll fall ill if I stay put!" Liya shouted back, her grey eyes twinkling. Connor stood there for a few seconds, before running over to her, water splashing everywhere as he moved. It was not easy to run in such a downpour, when not a soul was in sight, but the brother and sister, hand-in-hand, strolling the alleyways.

"Honestly Connor, I think we'll be in bed for the whole of next week."

"That's not going to happen. I mean, you? Resting at home? Impossible!"

"Well, true. So… does Jordan like rains?"

Her elder brother seemed to blush at the question, although it wasn't as visible in the downpour. His grip definitely tightened though. Liya smirked slyly at her brother, brushing her very wet hair from her face.

"Well, uh," Connor started, "I think-I think he doesn't. He's very indoor kind of guy."

"How boring!" Liya exclaimed, her verdict getting drowned by the sound of the rains.

"I know," Connor sighed, "Plus, he gets sick in rains."

Liya shrugged at that information, guiding her brother to continue with the stroll. If Jordan did fall ill in rains then what could he do? Poor guy, he couldn't really enjoy life the way she could. But she was happy that Jordan was a nice guy. Although serious, he was friendly and kind, and his personality was polar opposite to Connor's. Liya appreciated of her brother's choice, but nothing was really official yet.

"Ah man!" Connor said, "Drop this topic. Let's talk about Siesta. She's still not managed to find her 'out-of-the-world-classy-and-stylish pink dress. She's bringing the house down, really. Can't believe she's older than us."

Liya giggled as her brother made air quotes while describing their sister's dress. The truth was that Siesta was not going to find her pink dress anytime soon. Not unless she admitted defeat and asked nicely. Then maybe, they could help her. Just as that thought crossed her mind, the brother's eyes met the sister's and the two doubled over laughing. Siesta suspected that they had a hand in the mysterious disappearance of her favourite new dress, and she was right. But no way could she guess where the two had hidden it. No, mortal minds were too narrow to think that way.

"She was throwing a fit last night about it," Liya said with a chuckle, coughing again as the water rushed into her mouth.

"Yeah, and she raided her boyfriend's place, thinking that he was tricking her."

"She also checked our rooms, haha."

"As if her dress would be in our rooms."

"She also checked the kitchen, and even that pot in which we cook rice."

"Really?"

"Yeah. She checked a lot of things. Searched at a lot of places."

"Except one, poor girl. Had she searched only there a little carefully, she would have found it."

"Is it still there, Connor?"

"Of course, Liya! Siesta'll never have the idea that it can be there too."

Liya laughed out, clutching her brother's arm to steady herself. Her wrapped his own arm around her shoulder and the two siblings grinned at each other mischievously, thinking of the plight of the third one. It was Liya's idea, just as most were, to first hide the dress in her school bag and then sneak into Siesta's room and hide it there. She knew her sister would never check it again, and it was turning out to be very true.

"Sadly, Connor, we'd have to return it."

"Yeah, or she'll kill us."

The two siblings reversed their course, heading home. Hopefully they wouldn't fall ill and confined to bed. And hopefully, Siesta wouldn't be as mad as they expected her to be.

District Six

Aryton Maserrats (18) D6M

It was an old saying that experience is the best teacher. Now, what people conveniently forgot to mention was that this teacher demanded a high fee, something that sometimes people were not only reluctant to pay but also afraid to. And sometimes, it did not seem worth the price that was to be paid. However, it was time that told whether experience was worth its price or not. Time, the ever-powerful force in the universe.

But those were not the thoughts that concerned Aryton Maserrats as he checked the grills of the windows of this new building. Despite whatever people thought of District Six, construction was always going on there, some years ago, builders preferred to not have grills on the windows but after a few people fell from the higher floors and had their insignificant lives ended, the owners of companies as such didn't want to look for more workers, so now grills and bars for windows were popular. Aryton, who was exceptionally good at welding, was also pretty popular for his job, and soon he found himself flooded with calls to fix buildings and factories. It was good that it happened; it gave him less time to ponder on his own life.

There was much to think about. His life before the community home, when he lived with his parents who were members of a morphling gang. Life then was, in all honesty, much worse than now, and when the gang was busted, Aryton had conveniently been placed in the community home. He kept contact with only his sister, who visited him as often as she could. Because, as far as he was concerned, she was the only decent person in the family.

"Everything alright, Aryton?" Drake Alto asked as Aryton stepped away from the window, his muscular frame dominating the scene despite his average height. Alto, a middle-aged man whose pudgy eyes reminded Aryton of the gutters, had a gruff expression on his face. Nothing about this was unusual. Unusual would be if he smiled, and although Aryton was not interested in anything related to him, he also knew that Alto built the most expensive buildings. Working for him the first time, Aryton hoped in his heart of hearts that the pay would be slightly higher than usual. At least, Alto had promised that. However, his past dealings with builders had taught Aryton that promises were mere words and one thought nothing of them.

"Yeah," he replied curtly, "All of them are fine."

"Good. Now leave me alone."

"My payment. First you pay me and then I'll leave."

"I'll pay later."

"That 'later' isn't going to come ever, Alto. Hand my money over now."

"I won't," Drake said with a smirk, his eyes focused on Aryton's steel blue eyes, even as his vein on the head looked ready to pop. Aryton had certainly expected this because the next moment his rough hand was on Alto's shoulder. The smirk was wiped off Drake's face and soon appeared on Aryton's.

"You won't?"

"I-I wo-won't."

"Oh well, you *** dwarf, if you won't pay me now, be ready to get your *** handed to you. Don't say I didn't warn you, you *** midget."

"I'm not a midget!"

"Going to crawl over to wifey and cry out your puny heart in front of her? I think that's what's going to happen if you don't hand me my money right now."

"What-what'll you do?"

Aryton's arm shot towards Alto's waist, startling the older man to an extent that he almost jumped. But the boy was only interested in his pocket, and soon the black leather wallet was in his hand. Opening it up, Aryton dug his hand in as far as it could go and produced a few notes from it.

"Hey!"

Alto reached out for the wallet, but Aryton held up his hand well out of his reach. With his hand containing the notes he pushed the shorter man away so hard that he fell on his back.

"Oops, sorry," Aryton said, "But I think, for wasting my time and arguing with me, you owe me more, Mr. Drake Alto."

And with that, he pulled out a few more notes from the wallet, before throwing it at its owner's head even as he was trying to get up. Smirking, Aryton stepped over him and then set off towards the doorway, shoving the money in his own pocket.

"Give me back my money!"

"What *** money are you talking about, you retarded git? I've got nothing so shut the *** up and have a good day please."

"I'll report you to the Peacekeepers!"

"Go ahead and run wailing to those *** Peacekeepers. I'm sure they'll be delighted to see their midget friend."

And before Alto could continue with any more threats, Aryton was already running down the clean stairs. This building was built very recently, and it had been completely cleaned just yesterday. Some big people were going to open up their big and fancy shops here. Drake Alto built important buildings only, after all. Residential buildings were not his cup of tea.

But Aryton, even as he slowly walked through the clean doors and now faced a dusty road with nothing but litter everywhere, wondered what the point of all this was. Nobody from the Capitol would want to be here, in this poor District. Ah, all this didn't concern him. As long as buildings were erected and factories were established, he had no reason to think on such issues. After all, in this world one only cared about oneself, and if his source of income was this, so be it.

Plus, he had earned a lot more today than usual. He hoped it would go on to continue this way.

Lanai Mitsubishi (12) D6F

Respect was an essential part of life and without it, life had no meaning. Of course, love was essential as well but the importance of respect and dignity was extremely underrated. However hard one tried to earn it, some people were just not willing to let them have it. And in such cases drastic measures had to be taken for a person without respect and dignity was as good as dead.

Nobody would understand Lanai Mitsubishi.

After all, to the unwise and cowardly mind, what could be the reason for a twelve-year-old to volunteer? Did abuse count as a valid reason? No, not in the eyes of the residents of District Six. Perhaps humiliation, hatred and modern slavery meant something? No, it wasn't a reason big enough. For the residents of District Six, only money was reason good enough. Not the safety of your honour, not the dignity of oneself. A loveless child? Who needed things like love? And respect?! RESPECT?! How could anyone volunteer for something like respect?!

Her fellow humans had already declared her mentally ill ion their wise brains. But to Lanai, their opinions mattered little more than a dog's bark at a nearby crow. She knew what she had gone through and she knew the risks of her decision. But seriously, the maximum that could happen was that she would die. And, in all honesty, even that would be something to be grateful for. At least her suffering would come to an end. And if she won, well, she would be the youngest victor ever and that was something that commanded respect. It was a win-win situation for her.

As the small, well-built girl fidgeted with her medium length black hair, her dark eyes staring at the fancy door that led out of the room in the Justice Building, she wondered whether anyone would visit her. Not that she wanted anyone to. After all, she was running away from her situation. She'd rather stare at the many bizarre paintings of cars and bikes and goodness knows what that were there for the eyes to feast on than meet her 'lose and loved ones'. That phrase was overrated. Loved ones failed to give love when it was most needed.

Her parents were rich businessmen and rich people were always busy. So, when she was born… well, caring for her would divert their attention. As Lanai stared at the chandelier overhead, she recalled all the times her parents had her work at the house. She was not encouraged to study, to play, to do anything. She was taught to serve, to cook, to clean and to take rude orders and abuse. Sometimes she wondered why she was born in the first place and once when she voiced this thought out of sheer innocence, her parents also expressed the same sentiment. After that, Lanai knew her place in the household, she was a free slave, a bonded labourer. Their household maid, Acura, seemed to be the owner and she, Lanai, was also seen serving her own maid. Acura taught her everything about household chores to the point that she was a master of her craft.

Therefore, it was no surprise when eight-year-old Lanai, hungry for love, acceptance and above all- respect, made friends with the beautiful Camry Hood. She was an intelligent daughter of an intelligent drug lord, and knew how to scout workers. And in a few weeks, Lanai was working for Yarvis Hood, scouting Peacekeepers day and night and warning her colleagues of their whereabouts. Lanai didn't mind it at first; she knew she was wrong in supporting a criminal but Camary and Yarvis treated her with exceptional kindness and respect, the two things she yearned for. And all she had to do was to keep guard and let him know the whereabouts of the Peacekeepers.

But nothing nice ever lasted permanently.

And the love and care for her vanished the moment she turned ten and the business grew more successful. Then the life of belittlement began and between her parents, Yarvis and Acura, little Lanai simply lost the will to live. Twenty-four/seven she was found slaving away and no matter what happened, how ill she was, how weak she felt or how depressed she was, nobody allowed her to have one moment of rest. Not one moment of love and not one ounce of respect. With Yarvis, she was trapped. If she left, he'd have her killed. With her parents, she was legally required to live with them till she turned eighteen. That was too long a wait, and Lanai knew that she'd die as a slave in that long a duration.

Did that excuse volunteering for the Hunger Games?

In her mind, it did.

She had come to a point where she wasn't even concerned about her safety or life. The people in her District were dead, although their bodies were alive. But their hearts, their souls, their thoughts had been murdered. They couldn't relate to her. They were so used to a loveless life that they didn't see anything wrong with it.

But Lanai had had enough of it. As she stared at a particular pink shiny car that seemed to have no roof, she thought about herself in its place. It was gorgeous, and whoever would see it would love it. She wondered how the artists had mixed the paints, because it wasn't some regular colour. She wished to be as admired and appreciated and loved as this car. Even in dire situations, the tributes wouldn't have been able to take their eyes off this beauty, she was sure of it.

If she won, that would be the case with her too. At twelve, she would be the youngest victor. If not anyone else, the Capitol would love her, although she personally disliked them. And she would be free from Yarvis, her family and Acura, which was a huge plus in her eye. And if she died…

…She'd be too gone to actually feel anything.

Hi! I'm sorry this took so long. I'm not well since the past few days because, unlike Liya, I don't have immunity against rain. XD So speaking of Liya, which tribute here is your favourite? Any opinion on them? On the chapter? In all honesty, it wasn't easy to write this chapter. I constantly thought I was messing up, and I hope that it isn't the actual case. If it is, let me know and I'll fix it in the future chapters.

Many of you guessed last chapter that Jordan is a volunteer. I usually have avoided mentioning such things in POVs to create a better flow but then I remember that I need to let you all know. So yeah, last chapter Jordan and this time it's Lanai.

And now, the good thing is we're done with the introductions. Every tribute will have one POV for the pregames and it will still be a long time until we reach the arena. But still, at least we now know what characters we have here. XD But seriously, I've got a really diverse cast this time, and hence I apologise if I didn't introduce your tribute properly. :/

Also… if I've not caught up with your story or not replied to your PM, I'm sorry. I'm just having a very busy time right now and I'm sleeping when I'm not working because I fell ill. And I ate mangoes, and I don't know what mangoes have anything to do with being ill, but I want to ask: do you prefer mangoes or oranges? I prefer mangoes, maybe because they're yellow and oranges are orange and hence have nothing unique to them. Like, orange colour and orange fruit. Same thing? I wonder whether the colour was named after the fruit or vice versa. I think it is the former but oh well.

Ignore that paragraph overhead. I ramble sometimes and I think I said this last chapter too. XD Let me know your thoughts on the chapter and if you can, also let me know who's your favourite and least favourite character till now and why.

Have a great day!

PS: Do vote in the poll please.