Thank you all so much for all your tributes! Our District One girl was created by skittlesgirl99, and our boy by WriterFreak101. I'm not going to do

I would also like to thank Dark-RoseMarrie and skittlesgirl99 for being my unofficial betas for this chapter. :D

District 1: Ori Skipvine

District 1 has been abuzz ever since President Rosilian announced the reinstating of the Hunger Games. Rumors of who is volunteering and who is not are flung wildly through the streets, passed on in whispers or been heard by a bragger.

I know that I must be in there, too, my name circulating through the grapevine. People glance at me on the streets and start whispering.

I don't care. I'm going to volunteer nonetheless.

Training for the Hunger Games has been my life. When I was young, not even eligible for the reapings yet, my parents forced me to begin training. I didn't want to, the Hunger Games have always seemed cruel to me. But my father wanted me to become the next victor, and I wanted to make him proud, so I trained. It seems like training is all I do anymore, sometimes. But then I see the pleased smile on my father's face when I hack apart a dummy, and my heart glows. And I want to train more.

I was thirteen when the rebellion started. Katniss Everdeen's Games, then the Quell, then war. It had all seemed so rushed to me then, but at the same time I had slowly felt it creeping up us.

District 1 was one of the last Districts to join the rebellion. My mother had kept myself and my dozen siblings inside, while we watched the chaos on the streets out the window. Part of me had wanted to be out there, on the streets that so closely resembled the Games that my District has been practically idolizing all my life. One huge bloodbath. But I stayed inside. I didn't want to waste my life on something that might not even come true.

And then it did. All of the sudden, we were in control. District 13 rose from the dust, literally, and were the heroes of the rebellion. District 12 was destroyed and rebuilt. A very, very brief 'Golden Age' was in the time of Paylor's reign, starting with the 76th Hunger Games that wrought our new President Snow. Everyone calls her President Rosilian, though, to keep confusion at bay.

The Capitol's retaliation was swift and silent. Our Districts rioted, and somehow, when they subdued, the Capitol was in control again. Just like that.

I didn't know what would happen, of course. But I must say, I'm pleased with the outcome. My life wasn't a waste. Training wasn't a waste. I could still win. I could still be victor. Let me rephrase that: I will win. I will become victor.

And today is the day that it will begin. The first Games of the new reign. The 77th Hunger Games. I think it sounds quite lovely: Ori Skipvine, victor of the Seventy-Seventh Hunger Games.

Pulling my hair glossy black hair back into my signature high ponytail, I quickly fasten it with a hair tie and call it good. I don't need any special hairstyle: this is what I'll wear into the arena, and I want people to recognize me. Then I put on my reaping dress that I selected last week when the President made her announcement. It's a summer dress: the skirt goes down to my knees, and has simple, flowing sleeves that barely reach my elbows. It's a light, sea foam green and I'm told it looks good with my eyes.

Of course, I couldn't care less about fashion, but the sponsors in the Capitol will, so I'll try my best to impress.

Coming out of my room, Two whistles appreciatively. I have so many siblings, I can hardly remember the girls' names, let alone the boys. So I simply number them One through Seven, One being the oldest of the boys and Seven only one and a half years old. "You look good, Miss Victor!" he calls.

I roll my eyes at his immaturity. "Thanks," I say dryly.

Dethet, the littlest of my sisters comes out of her room in our large house, and gives me a hug. Her black hair that so closely resembles mine is a mess.

"Good morning, Ori!" she chirps. "You look really pretty."

The same complement coming from my favorite sister affects me much more that it does coming from my annoying brother. I smile at her. "Thanks, Dethet. You look really nice too," I respond, and grab a brush off of the table and try to fix her hair. "Come on, let's get you dressed." Dethet takes my hand and we go to her room.

After about five minutes, her hair looks presentable, with most of the tangles gone. Yesterday my little sister had picked out a pale pink frock, and I help her into it. She looks very cute and innocent by the end, a perfect reflection of her personality. To finish the picture, I put in her favorite hair clip: a sparkly bluebird barette.

"Now that we've got you all fixed up, let's get you some breakfast!" I call to Dethet, and begin walking down the hall.

Normally, in our house, we eat breakfast as we get hungry. But on reaping days, we all gather at the huge table in the dining room and eat our breakfast together. It's quite a spectacle: my mother and father, myself, the oldest, the twins Rima and Rinnie, Nily, Arton, Ryna, and Dethet being the girls, and then One through Seven are there as well. All in all, we have fourteen of us crowded around the table, talking and pushing and shoving as we try to get to the food at the center of the table. I manage to get through it without spilling anything on my clothes, although Dethet spills some hot chocolate on herself and I have to rush to get some towels to clean her up.

As soon as I'm done, I rush over to my father. My mother, Nie, is still in the kitchen, cooking for the rest of the still-hungry children.

"Dad, may I please go down to the town square? I want to get there early, so I can get a spot in the front of the Eighteens section."

"Of course!" he roars, thumping me on the back. "We wouldn't want someone taking your place, now would we!"

I shake my head no. "Thank you!"

I quickly kiss Dethet on her hot-chocolate sticky cheek, then rush out the door.

The paved streets of District 1 make for easy, quick traveling. I rush down them, reaching the town square in no time. There are already fifty or so people here, the early risers like myself. I'm able to secure a spot in the Eighteens section right up at the front, with a good view of the stage, but more importantly, the people on the stage have a good view of me. There will be no people trying to grab my volunteer this year. I've seen it done before: someone calls out to volunteer, but someone else reaches the stage before them.

Slowly, people trickle in. My training partner, Hanee, waves to me as she comes in and takes a spot next to me.

"You're volunteering this year?" she says it like a statement.

I nod.

Hanee nods back. "Okay," she says, but it's obvious that she's concerned. Hanee's always worrying about me, I have no idea why. I'm perfectly fine.

We stand together in silence as everyone else takes their places. Dethet waves to me from her place on the borders of the Eighteen section, and I wave back.

After what seems like forever, the escort gets on the stage. It's not the same escort that drew the names for the 76th Games, or for the 75th. He announces himself as Mel Avene. He is definitely one of our stranger-looking escorts: he has metallic gold hair that's been spiked so his hair looks like a child's drawing of the sun. His eyes match his hair, and his skin is bleached white and patterned with gold splatter tattoos.

In short, he repulses me.

"Okay!" Mel squeals in his ridiculous Capitol accent, "Let's get this started! I would just love love love to skip to the reapings! The suspense is killing me! But of course, we have to read the Treaty of Treason first, now don't we?"

The mayor shoots a look that is a mix of puzzlement and disgust at the escort, then begins to read the long and arduous Treaty.

When he's done, and Mel takes the stage again, the butterflies that have been steadily growing in my stomach all morning are let loose and are running wild. I'm biting my lip to keep from shouting I volunteer! before it's time.

"Now, let's mix things up a little and let the boys go first, since the ladies always get the honor."

He places his hand in the bowl and draws out a name. "Kyanite Sahng!"

The name is barely out of his mouth before a tall, bulky boy in the Seventeen section shoots his hand into the air. "I volunteer!" he crows.

A mass of boys begin running up to the stage, the one who truly volunteered and others. The true volunteer shoves through them, dealing blows every so often. Soon he's scrambling up the steps.

"And what might your name be?" Mel asks.

But I already know and inwardly groan. Is this really who my District partner is going to be?

"Spectacle Frahn," he says proudly. "But call me Speck."

Spectacle Frahn and his group of cronies are the most popular people in school. They're obnoxious and rude and really just annoying in every way imaginable. They all say they're going to volunteer: I guess one of them actually got up the guts to do it.

"Well, ladies and gentlemen, let's have a round of applause for our male tribute, Speck Frahn!"

He grins and waves to the cameras.

"Now, let's find out who our lovely lady tribute is going to be!"

I gag slightly. Lovely lady tribute? That's going to be me! Except that I would not describe myself as a lovely lady. That's the same as calling me a 'damsel in distress.'

He swirls the slips in the bowl to drum up anticipation. Ever so carefully, he draws a slip.

This is my chance. This is my time to shine, per say. It's my time to become who I was meant to be: the victor of the Seventy-Seventh Hunger Games.

"Tiara Demms!"

"I volunteer!" I yell, thrusting my hand into the air. Before anyone else can try to steal my glory, I rush up to the stage.

"Another volunteer!" Mel says, happy with the outcome. "And so young, too! What's your name?"

I can feel my ears redden. I'm short for my age, only 5'3. It is true: standing next to Speck, he towers over me.

I shoot a glare at Mel. "My name," I spit, "is Ori Skipvine. And I am eighteen years old."

Now it's Mel's turn to blush. He fumbles an apology under his breath, and continues on with the customary lines.

"Well, there you have it, folks! The District 1 tributes! Let's have a hand for them!"

The applause is deafening. Mel gestures for us to shake hands. We do. His grip is crushing, and I make mine equally so.

"I'm going to crush you, girl," he snarls.

I only grin, and I know that my eyes are shifting into that creepy stare that they sometime have.

As if he'll beat me.

We're led into the Justice Building for our final goodbyes. Hanee, who was sitting next to me, is the first to reach me. She's still looking worried.

"Ori, you have to win this, okay? Because if you don't, you die, and I cannot have that happen. For myself, and for your family, and for everyone…" she looks like she's about to cry.

"Hanee, we've trained for this. I'll be fine," I reassure her.

"But…." her lip trembles slightly.

"Look. You've wanted to go into the Games all your life, and now you're being worried about me? You could be here in my place, Hanee. You know that I'll be fine."

My friend takes a deep breath and wipes away the tear that snuck out of her eye. "I-I know, Ori," she stutters.

"If it makes a difference, can you promise me something?"

"Of course!"

"If I do die, which I won't, will you take care of my family?"

"Yes, Ori." She's like a complacent little girl, unlike the Hanee I usually know. She must be really upset.

"Good. Now, I think they want you to go." I gesture to the Peacekeepers who are beginning to give Hanee glares.

She nods. "Well then….goodbye, Ori. And good luck."

"Thanks," I say stiffly.

She glances back over her shoulder at me, then walks out.

My next visitors are my brothers, 1 through 6. 7 is too little, he'll be with my parents. They all cheer me on, assuring me of my victory. I stay silent through their goodbyes, except for the occasional nod of a head or, "Yeah." as a response.

As if by clockwork, my sisters come next. They all wish me luck, then leave. I'm not particularly close to them, either, so my reaction is the same as when I was with my brothers.

Dethet hurries in after Ryna leaves. "Ori!" she chirps. "Where are you going?"

I sit awkwardly for a while. I can't tell her that I might die, that I'll be killing. Her image of me would be ruined forever.

"I'm….going on a trip!" I say, forcing my voice to sound bright.

She frowned. "Can't I go with you?"

"Sorry, Dethet, but only big kids can go."

Her pout widened. "Can you pleeease take me with you?" she said, giving me her cutest pouty face.

"No, Dethet. It's not allowed."

She starts crying a little. "I want to go with you!"

"I would love if you could come with me," I lied, "but the grown-ups wouldn't let you. Besides, daddy and mommy would miss you."

She sniffles a little. "Can I at least give you a present?"

My heart breaks as she says that. "Yes, you can give me a present." I vow that whatever she gives to me will be my token.

She takes out her hair clip and messily puts it in my hair. "There, you look pretty," she says, smiling.

I feel a lump starting to form in my throat, but I swallow it down harshly. I can't let the cameras see that I was crying.

"Thank you so much, Dethet. I promise I will keep it in every second that I'm gone."

The Peacekeepers come over and tap Dethet on the shoulder. "Miss, you have to go now."

She pouts and sits on my lap. "I don't wanna go!"

I don't want the Peacekeepers to hurt her, so I gently say to her, "Dethet, it's time to go now, okay?"

The pout doesn't leave her face. "Fine."

She marches proudly out the door.

My parents come next, with Mom carrying 7.

"Good luck, Ori," she says softly, in that worn-out way that she talks. "I hope that you win. I really do."

My dad snorts. "No need for good luck, our Ori will win out of her skill!"

My mom smiles weakly. "Of course she will."

I try to ignore them and focus on preserving the look on Dethet's face when she gave me her hair clip into my mind. So caring, so thoughtful….so innocent.

A thought springs into my mind.

"Dad, can you leave?" I say.

"What?" he's confused.

"Can you please leave? You can come back after, I want some alone time with my mother." A lie.

"Well….okay…" he says slowly, and walks out the door.

My mom looks confused. "What was that about? I mean, I would love it if you want alone time with me, but…" she trails off, but I know what she's going to say. She'd be surprised if that was the real reason.

"Mom, I need to ask you a favor."

"Anything, dear."

I wince at her use of the pet name. "Don't let Dethet watch, okay?"

She immediately knows what I mean, and why. "Of course," she said gently. "I won't let her watch."

"Thanks."

We sit in silence for a moment or two. Then the Peacekeeper comes.

"Miss Skipvine? The train's waiting."

I nod and get up. My mom gives me a hug, and I awkwardly hug her back.

As I walk towards the train, it seems like every step I take, I'm turning more into Career Ori and less of the sappy Ori that was saying her goodbyes.

I'm morphing into a winner.

More than a winner. I'm morphing into a victor.

Well, there you have it! Our first two tributes! I know that there isn't Speck's POV in this, but there will be on with him later on, don't worry! I really want to get through the reapings, so I'm going to choose randomly which tribute's POV I'm writing from, and the other one will get a POV later. Some may have both tribute's POVs, but most will only have one's. I know this is confusing, but bear with me.

Also! I've been spreading word about demigodgirl1000's petition to legalize SYOTs and all Submit Your Own Character stories. I know that tons of people had your SYOTs taken down, myself included, as this very own SYOT was removed by the FanFiction admins. Go to her profile and sign the petition! Thank you so much!

R&R!

~MyrtleFalls