Disclaimer: The Hunger Games is not mine.

Note: As promised, we're going to jump right in with the reapings. Just a few housekeeping notes.

Firstly, the reapings are going to vary slightly in length, due mostly to the different numbers of tributes in each district. A district with six tributes is going to have a longer chapter than a district with only two. That's probably common sense, but I figured I'd mention it before anyone sees the need to draw attention to it.

Second, make sure to keep an eye out for allies as we go through the reapings, and PM me if you think you see a good fit. Careers, you are not exempt from this. Due to the sheer number of Careers, we will almost certainly end up with more than one pack. So let me know who you'd like to see together. I already have a few ideas, but, again, given the number of tributes, I'd appreciate whatever suggestions you have.

Third, there's a link to the blog on my profile, if you haven't found it already. Tributes will be added to the blog as they're introduced in-story. In my experience, this tends to discourage split-second judgments of tributes based on a picture and a few words in the blog.

Fourth, my brother is still in need of tributes, so send a few his way.

Last but certainly not least, thank you to Alice Kingsleighs and Jael. Rice. 1 for Jaime and Inviticus, respectively.

District One
Team

Jade Floren, 51
Victor of the 7th Hunger Games

"Are you sure about this?"

Jade slid an arm around Jasper's shoulders as the five of them – Jade, Stellar, Jasper, his sister Thea, and fellow victor Amelia – headed to the square for the reaping. Jasper rolled his eyes fondly. "I'm not a kid anymore, Dad. I won the Games. I was a mentor two years ago. Why should this year be any different?"

Jade smiled a little, trying his best not to seem like an overprotective father. Jasper had a point, of course. He had made it through the Games on his own merits, not because of his heritage. And, only two years later, he had insisted on mentoring. "I just figured that, after what happened last time, you might not be so eager to mentor again," Jade admitted. Jasper's first tribute, Ebony Marcus, had been torn to pieces by a three-headed dragon while attempting to attack Kit from District Eight, who had gone on to win the Games.

Jasper swallowed hard at the memory, but he held firm. "What happened with Ebony … I learned from it. And I'll keep learning. But the only way to do that is to keep trying."

Thea gave Jasper a friendly punch in the arm. "You tell 'em, Jasper," she grinned, then turned her disarming smile on Jade. "He'll have to try again sometime. This year, next year, five years from now – what's the difference?"

Jade nodded. She was right. There shouldn't be a difference at all. But after what had happened last year…

Last year. Once again, Jade was hit with a surge of relief that Thea had decided at a young age not to continue her training. Last year, she had been eighteen. If she had trained, if she had been ready, they would probably have chosen her. The rebels would have killed her. She would be gone.

But she wasn't. She was here. She was alive. And so was Jasper. And, as rough as mentoring could sometimes be, Jasper's life wouldn't be in danger this year.

And why should this year be any different? Even if the Capitol had something special planned – as had been rumored since the end of the last Games – surely District One would be spared. District One had remained loyal. Surely they would be rewarded for that.

There was no need to worry.

"All right," Jade agreed as they neared the square. "You and me, then." He glanced at Stellar, who nodded gratefully. After what had happened last year, she deserved a year to recover. He wouldn't have minded taking a year off, either, of course, but Jasper needed someone experienced with him, at least this time. And both Jade and Stellar had mentored for so long that none of the other victors really qualified as 'experienced' mentors.

"Unless you're interested, Amelia," Jade offered, which earned him a good-natured glare from his fellow victor. Amelia, like Felix, had proven herself quite capable during her own Games, but had no interest in either training new tributes or mentoring them herself.

Amelia shook her head. "I'll pass. Ask Scarlet."

Jade smirked. Scarlet had mentored for a few years before deciding it wasn't really for her. Since then, she'd found her niche giving tours of previous arenas to nostalgic Capitolites. Jasper's arena – a recreation of Neverland – was always a favorite.

Cheers erupted from the crowd as Jade and his family entered the square. Scarlet was already waiting for them, early as usual. A few moments later, Felix arrived, along with his wife, Jasmine, and their three children: Felicity, Piper, and Enoch. After a few hugs, Jasmine and Thea headed for the adult section, while Felix's children took their place with the other teenagers.

But there was no concern on Felix's face as the six victors took the stage. His children were in no danger. No child in District One had entered the Games against their will since the 25th Games, which had forbidden volunteers. The Career system not only prepared those who wanted to risk their lives; it protected those who had no interest in volunteering.

As long as there were no surprises in store.

Jade shook the thought from his head as Ishmael Scimone, District One's escort, stepped up to the microphone to read the names of the victors. He gave a little speech. The mayor gave a little speech. The crowd cheered.

All perfectly normal.

Finally, Ishmael took his place by the first of the reaping bowls. No show. No fuss. He drew a name quickly, knowing that the decision had already been made. The name he drew was not the name of the tribute who would enter the Games.

Still, it was a formality, and formalities had to be observed. "Chanelle Morani!" Ishmael called out.

No sooner had the name left his lips, however, than a familiar voice called out, "I volunteer!" and Jaime Gloire stepped forward to claim her place onstage, wearing a long, white blouse, a dark sparkly skirt, and matching shoes. She was about average in height and weight, lean and well-muscled. She was fair-skinned, with short blonde hair and piercing green eyes.

Jade flashed her a playful smile, but Jaime took no interest. She was all business as she stepped up to the microphone, announced her name, and took her place beside the escort, waiting for the second name to be drawn.

Ishmael took a hint and moved on to the boys' bowl. Once again, he simply drew the first piece of paper his fingers found, knowing that, in a moment, the name on the paper would be completely irrelevant. "Sullivan Cascella!"

"I volunteer!" Jade nodded a little as their chosen volunteer, Inviticus Cassiano, burst out of the crowd, wearing a blue button-down shirt and a pair of khakis. He quickly made his way to the stage, making a show of shoving everyone else out of the way. As if anyone was going to stand in his way, to try to prevent him from volunteering. The crowd quickly parted, and he lunged to the stage beside his district partner.

Tall and muscular, he towered over Jaime and Ishmael – and most of the victors, as well. He was dark-skinned, with short, curly black hair and dark brown eyes, a nose that had clearly been broken, and a large scar across his right cheek. He certainly looked intimidating, but there was a grin on his face as he took the microphone and announced his name. This was his moment. And he was going to enjoy every bit of it.

"Shake hands!" Ishmael grinned, and they did. The crowd roared. Once they quieted down, Jaime and Inviticus were herded off to the Justice Building to say their goodbyes. The crowd dispersed, leaving the six victors alone onstage.

All perfectly ordinary.

"See?" Jasper grinned. "Nothing to worry about. Whatever the Capitol has planned, it doesn't involve us."

Jade nodded. "Looks like you were right. So … Jaime or Inviticus?" He, Stellar, and Jasper had all worked extensively with both tributes, and he and Jasper would continue to work with both of them throughout the Capitol festivities and training, but, as a formality, they each had to choose one to mentor officially.

"I'll take Inviticus," Jasper said immediately. "Unless you'd rather—"

Jade shook his head. "All yours." No reason to make a big deal out of the choice. They both wanted the same thing, in the end: another victor for District One. Whether that victor was Jaime or Inviticus, or whether that victor was mentored by Jade or his son – that wasn't the point. They were a team.

And if one member of the team was victorious, then that was enough.

Jaime Gloire, 18

This wasn't about them anymore.

Jaime breathed a sigh of relief as her mother and sister finally left. They were gone. She was alone. But that was all right. Better, even. She was doing this for herself, after all. Not for her father, who had pushed her to train until his death two years ago. Not for her mother, who had always wanted her to be a proper lady. And not for her sister, Lulu, who had been everything her mother had dreamed of.

No. No, this was for herself. The one thing that was truly her own.

It hadn't been, at first. It had been her father's. His dream. His hopes for her. It was only after his death that she'd realized just how badly he'd wanted a victor in the family, how much he'd pushed her to train.

For a while, that had given her doubts about training. About why she was pushing herself. Was it really for her, or was it simply because it was what he would have wanted her to do? Was his dream worth risking her life for? Worth dying for?

It had almost come as a surprise when Jade and Stellar had chosen her to volunteer. And, still, she hadn't been sure. She could have said no. Others had refused in the past, or backed out. There was no shame in that. Jade and Stellar had been perfectly clear about that. They only wanted volunteers who wanted to be there. They wanted this to be her choice.

So she had made it her own. Pushed herself harder in this last month than she had ever dreamed she could. She was ready.

And now there was no turning back. She was on her own. Jade and Japser and Inviticus – they could help her, work with her, but they couldn't do this for her. In the end, only she could make those years of training worth something. They would have a purpose. They would have meaning.

She would have meaning.

Jaime glanced at the tokens in her hands. Her mother had given her a mirror. Her sister had offered her a hair ribbon. But as the Peacekeepers came to take her to the train, she left them both behind. She didn't need a token, a reminder of her family or her district. She wasn't doing this for them. She was doing this for herself.

And she would do it alone.

Inviticus Cassiano, 18

This was about all of them.

Inviticus grinned as his parents, both proudly clad in their Peacekeeper uniforms, left, his father turning back one last time with a look of pride on his face. He would make them proud – his father, his mother, and all of District One.

Because it was about all of them, in the end. The whole district. A district that, despite the actions of the rebels in the previous Games, had remained loyal to the Capitol.

And they had paid the price for it. Moira and Clarence – both well-known faces at the academy – had been robbed of a fair chance at victory. They had paid the ultimate price for their loyalty.

But now the rebels would pay a price of their own.

He would make them pay. Three. Four. Six. Eight. Anyone who dared to stand with them. He would be the instrument of the Capitol's vengeance, striking down anyone who dared oppose them.

That was what the Games were, after all: revenge. Beneath all the talk of glory and honor, the truth was that the Games were simply a tool for revenge against the Capitol's enemies. Everyone knew it. Rebels, relatives or rebels, other troublemakers – they were always more likely to be reaped. Half the tributes in the arena were probably enemies of the Capitol.

More than half.

Almost all of them, probably.

Except for those who had joined the Capitol's side. Those who had chosen to fight for the winning team. One. Two.

But not Four. Not anymore. They had turned their backs on the Capitol last year. They couldn't be trusted. But One and Two – and Five, even – they had held fast.

And now they would be rewarded.

It was no secret that the Capitol was planning something special. Exactly what it was, no one seemed to know, but Inviticus was determined to be a part of it. He'd made that clear during training. And Jade and Stellar had made the right choice.

Now he would make them proud. All of them. His family. His trainers. His district. The Capitol. He would be remembered for his loyalty. And he would be rewarded for it.

He didn't expect them to simply hand him his victory, of course. Inviticus turned a small wooden top over in his hands as he headed for the door. A reminder – a reminder he had stolen from the first boy he had beaten. The first boy who had earned his wrath. A reminder that victory was earned, not given. And now he would earn it again.

But he wouldn't have to do it alone.

"You're playing for the wrong team."

"Yeah? What team are you on?"

"The one that's gonna win."