Welcome, meet District Eight (with Kendal Baize from Call Me Fin and Kilim Moquette from Nrrrd-Grrrl-Meg) and District Eleven (with Ardith Renville from Sunlight Comes Creeping In and Terran Provost from JabberjayHeart). Enjoy, and please R&R!

DISTRICT EIGHT MALE: KILIM MOQUETTE

"Mother!" I knock quietly on her study door. I'm scared. I shouldn't want my mom right now, I'm thirteen and that's far too old for crying for mom, but sometimes we all just revert to little kids for a minute or two. "Mother, it's Kilim, please!"

"I'm busy, go bother your Uncle Mohir or something!" I bite my lip at her muffled response and pluck at the edge of my suit's vest.

"It's my second reaping, won't you come talk to me today?" My stomach has been flipping around and twisting all over itself this morning, and I don't want to be alone.

"I have designs to finish, Kilim, I can't deal with you at the moment."

"Can't you finish them later?"

She sighs loud enough for me to hear through the heavy wooden door. "Just go."

I hang my head and shuffle away from the study room, leaving my mother in peace to finish her newest clothing sketches. As soon as I get out of earshot, I screech, collapsing into an armchair and pounding on the back of it with my fists. She never even looks me in the face anymore! She's always working! How can she have that much work? She never talks to me, never hugs me, never loves me. She's my mother, aren't mothers supposed to love their kids? I want her to love me.

The only things I get from her are toys, most of which I'm too old for, and the best clothes. Not even a smile… I just want my mother to smile at me for once.

"Kilim, is that you? Kilim?" A gruff adult voice says. I snap my mouth shut and stop my tantrum immediately, still sniffling. If there's anyone I don't want to cry in front of, it's Uncle Mohir. I don't want him to see me so babyish.

"Uncle?" I repeat the word slowly until he steps into the living room, hands in the pockets of his suit. He looks uncomfortable.

"I heard you wailing on about something, what's wrong?" Uncle Mohir pulls up a footstool and sits in front of me, coming down to my eye level. I avert my gaze, ashamed to have been caught so easily.

"Mother won't talk to me. It's the Reaping, I just want her to say something."

"Chambrey's busy, you know that." He tries to comfort me but he can't. I won't be comforted right now.

"Too busy to even look at me? All she said was go away!" I whine to him.

He bites his lip. "Don't worry about her. I'm here, okay sport? Just the guys, and that works, right? You can talk to me all you want, it's important for you to let your voice be heard." Just the guys. That makes me feel so much older than my mother's frequent gifts of toys do. Just the guys. I like it.

"But you're just my uncle, not my mother. And she always says children are to be seen and-"

"Believe me, I know what she says, we were both told the same thing for our whole childhoods. Don't subscribe to it, opinions don't need to be bottled up in your head."

I'm skeptical. Mother says… but I like the idea. I like being able to say what I think.

"I think you should dry your eyes and straighten that suit. Your friend will be here any minute and you want to look your best, don't you?" Uncle Mohir ruffles my hair and I glare at him for a moment, but I can't stay angry with the only honest person I know for very long.

I force myself out of the armchair, tiptoe past Mother's study, and stand in front of the door of our house for a few minutes, composing myself. Mother will talk to me later, maybe she'll finish early and I can make her tell me a story or let me see her designs. Anything.

The doorbell chimes and I try not to launch myself forward. Challis stands on the other side of the door, grinning smugly in her new dress- a familiar design, I notice.

"That dress makes you look fat."

She gasps in anger, but I see that she sucks in her soft stomach as she does so. "Kilim, you're so mean to me!"

"I tell the truth, that's all," I retort. Challis storms into the house, nose in the air.

"Well, I think it's pretty, and my father bought it for me, and you don't matter!"

"Yes I do, you came to my house because I matter. I matter to you." Just saying those words makes me puff up in pride. Footsteps behind me alert us to the presence of Uncle Mohir.

"Good morning, Challis," he greets my companion.

"Good morning, Mr. Moquette!" she pipes up in reply, smiling at him. I give my uncle a sullen look. He's gone and made her feel more loved than I do, with three words.

"Do you want me to walk the two of you down to the square? I don't feel like doing any of the work I'm supposed to."

I try to stand up as tall as I can. "I'm plenty old enough now, Uncle Mohir, I'll go alone. With Challis, I mean. I know how it works, I remember from last year." And even last year hardly any of the boys came with their parents… or uncles. I don't want to seem juvenile, I want them to respect me. I mean, my family has a reputation, why shouldn't I?

"Good man, Kilim. Guess I'll have to stay here. Challis, you good with going alone?"

She nods sweetly. See? I can be mature. I don't need my mother for everything… although having her around would be nice.

"Do we have to go yet, is it time?"

Uncle Mohir nods. "Challis got here just in time to head out again, so neither of you settle in."

"All right," I say solemnly, "Let's go, Challis." I follow her out the door and then push into the street ahead. I can do this.

DISTRICT EIGHT FEMALE: KENDAL BAIZE

"Caden, they're all going out to parties after the reaping, and Mallory's trying to drag me along!"

My older sister gives me a fierce look. "You know you're not going. Not again, and for your own good."

I heave a huge sigh and flop back down on my bed, not caring if I might tear the sundress I'm wearing on the rough edge of the frame. "I know, and I don't want to ruin everything for myself… but what if they stop inviting me altogether? A social life is still important!"

Caden pushes her dark hair away from her face and sits down next to me. "First of all, if you went to any sort of party you wouldn't be able to hold yourself away from the alcohol for very long at all, not when Mallory was drinking as well. You'd come home totally hammered before dinner at that rate. And you promised me, Kendal, you promised-"

"I know, okay? And I've gotten tons better all thanks to you. I just… I want them to still like me, you know?"

"If your friends don't like you for not getting wasted with them, they're pretty sucky friends. You should find better."

"Like who, Lance?" I grin to myself, thinking of my friend like a little lost puppy.

"Sure, Lance," Caden teases, tapping me on the nose playfully, "Look, I get that you want to hang out but you're going to get lost again."

I sit up, suddenly serious, and throw my arms around Caden's shoulders. "Not with you here. You're my best friend, Caden, even if you're my sister and you're three years older than me and treat me like a preteen sometimes. I'll be fine thanks to you."

"And what if I'm not there for once?"

"I'll come back to you."

Caden looks like she wants to say something else, but then she checks her watch. "You've got to get to the Reaping. Last year, yeah?" I grin and nod, jumping off the bed and running through the house.

"Bye Mom, Dad!" I call as I rush past.

"Love you, dear!" Mom calls back out as I rush through the door. Yeah, if only she'd act on it more. "Celyn already went down to the town square, keep an eye out for her after the ceremony!" I roll my eyes as I slam the door behind me. Of course my angel of a little sister already got down to the square, she'd never forgive herself for being late to the Reaping. Didn't even wait for me, of course, she wouldn't want to spend time with someone who has fun every once in a while.

I jog through town, my dark hair bouncing against my back, and wave to a few of the older kids and younger adults I pass on the streets. I'm just on the lookout for Mallory or Lance right now, I want to talk to Mallory about that party, and Lance, well, if I see Lance then Mallory is nearby.

I reach the line at the check-in station and still don't catch sight of either of my friends, although I'm late enough that they'll probably be inside already. I'm stuck waiting behind two little kids, fourteen at the oldest, a boy and a girl who look similar enough to be fraternal twins. Neither of them want to step up when the Peacekeeper calls 'next!'

"Briley, are you gonna go first this year?" the boy asks his sister.

"I went first last year, this time you've got to go, Martin!" she snaps back at him.

I bend down and hiss in their ears. "One of you just go, already, there are people in line behind and we're all going to be late because of you two." Exaggeration, of course, but it works. The girl jumps out of her skin in surprise and guiltily steps forward.

I get signed in just as our escort, with his signature spiky purple hair, steps up to make a speech. "First of all," he begins, rolling his eyes, "I would like to announce that it is my final year escorting District Eight, and I couldn't be happier…"

It gives me time to slip into the crowd of other eighteen year old girls and find Mallory, who turns to me with a huge smirk on her face. "You planning to come to the party? It's gonna be huge, I've heard!"

I feel spectacularly guilty for a moment to both Mal and Caden, but I bite my lip. My sister can't make my decisions for me. The hardest days are over, I can have fun if I want. "Yeah, I'll be there. Can I follow you after the Reaping?"

"Of course, girl! Now, I suppose we'd better pay attention for this bit, maybe it'll be someone we hate." Her postulation is in jest, of course, but it's still a bit cruel.

"And here's hoping you won't be miserable this year… for the ladies, Kendal Baize!"

Hell no. They think I'll go up there willingly? Strong-faced? Noble? I'm not their toy for them to play with and then destroy! Insults bubble up to my tongue, and with a whispered protest from Mallory I stomp onstage. I want this stage to burn. I want everything to collapse and leave me the only one left standing. How could they do this? How? I have a life to live!

Standing onstage, I see the faces of Mallory, Lance right at the front of the boys' section, my parents in the audience and Celyn with the littler girls. They're all scared… and that scares me. What am I supposed to do now? Tears well up where there used to only be fury.

I hear the boy's name through ringing ears. Kilim Moquette… of Moquette Designs?

The boy comes up onstage kicking and screaming, hollering at our morose escort and kicking him in the shins. "It's your fault!" he shouts.

I turn back out to the crowd in disgust, seeing that Caden's forced her way to the front of the crowd. Our eyes meet and my sister's earlier words echo in my ears. "And what if I'm not there for once?"

Guess it came sooner than I expected. I'll be in the Capitol with no one from home but bratty Kilim.

And how am I supposed to hang onto my self-control in a situation like that?

DISTRICT ELEVEN MALE: TERRAN PROVOST

"I can't do it, Terran, I'll never be able to do it." My brother Robin slams the book closed and tosses it off his bed.

"Come on, bro, you can. I know you can."

The younger boy looks up at me with tears in his eyes. "I've been struggling through this stupid book since four in the morning, and it's seven-thirty now. I've progressed a chapter. One chapter. I can't do this! That's why I'm not even in school, you know that!"

I wipe away the tears that threaten to spill down his cheeks and then put my arm around his slumped shoulders. "It's not your fault. You work hard, and you're doing better, Robin, you really are. It's not your fault that you have a hard time reading, and the only reason you're not in school is because you had that one stupid teacher that made a bad remark and Mom chewed her out for it," I assure him firmly.

"I'm not good enough, though, you're the one who does all the important things. I'm not useful at all."

I shake my head and shush him. "You're my brother. You're you. Being yourself is all that matters, because just doing that can bring change to others. Don't say you're not useful."

"But you're going to leave any minute now and go do something important and I'll just be here, doing nothing, waiting for you to come back and take me to the Reaping."

I run a hand through my unruly dark hair, searching in vain for the right words. I do have to go out and manufacture another deal, but if I could stay and comfort Robin then I would, no questions asked. But the business world moves on and I can't get lost in my own life.

Robin's eyes search my face. "You have to go, don't you?" he asks flatly. I nod, not meeting his hurt gaze.

"I have to meet Oli in ten minutes, but I'll be back way before we have to leave again, okay?"

"Okay, I guess."

I tousle my brother's hair and then slip out the back door into the empty street, tugging my dark hood over my eyes to hide my face. I run through my route quickly in my head, planning out different ways home and possible escape routes. Two blocks east, three west, near the storehouses. The dingiest alley we could locate nearby. Sticking to the shadows, I head off on my task.

The narrow gap between two buildings is already occupied and I pull up short right before I enter. A short, lithe figure leans against one of the walls, face obscured in the early morning shadows.

"Terran, that you?" I relax only a little at the familiar voice. Abel Sitori, the main messenger for my little business.

"You're here early, Abel."

"Yeah, your buyer knew exactly what he wanted. Some of that measles medication. Looks like there's a sick kid somewhere nearby." I nod shortly, waiting for the rest of my runner's report. "He said he'd gladly give the offered price."

"Did you get a name out of him?"

"Nah."

"Must be affluent, then, not desperate enough or just ashamed to show his face in the black market. The deal is good, Olivander will get you the medication this afternoon. When you meet him again, take Glynn with you for backup and try and get, an extra ten dollars. This fellow sounds inexperienced." Abel nods in response, his shaggy black hair falling over his eyes in the process.

"Terran! Abel!" I whirl around, startled, only to see a Hispanic boy running down the alley from the other end.

"Oli, you've already missed the deal," I scoff, "Maybe you should try running more?"

He rolls his eyes at me. "And you should try being nice on occasion. I had to help my mom sort out some of her expenses. We're neighbors, man, thanks for waiting on me!"

I grin and pull him into a hug. "Good to see you, bro."

"You look exhausted, what's up?"

"Robin." Olivander nods. That explains it enough for him. "Speaking of Robin, he'll expect me back before we have to get to the Reaping. Walk with me?" We nod goodbye to Abel, who's already stalking off in the other direction, and meander out of the alley.

"Only two more years, aye?" Oli starts cheerfully. I nod thoughtfully in agreement. I can make it, I know I can make it, my family's better-off status in the district and my work on the side have kept Robin and I out of tesserae.

"I'm ready to move on to bigger things," I decide.

"Bigger things?" I sigh, Olivander's never been particularly keen on my shady business racket. "Promise me you won't do something stupid."

"Since when do I do stupid things?" I laugh, elbowing him, "And besides, even if I get the wrong idea in my head I can always count on you to rein me in. We balance each other out."

"We didn't always, you used to hate me," my best friend rolls his eyes as he mentions the rivalry that was between us as toddlers.

"Luckily for both of us, not anymore," I reply fondly, just as we reach our street. Olivander steps from my side and enters his own home. "See you later!"

I only take three steps inside before Robin shoots out from his room and nearly tackles me in a hug. "You're back!"

"I promised, didn't I?" Squirming out of his grasp, I remove my jacket and push my hair back from my face. "Mom and Dad already go?" He nods. "All right, our turn."

My brother sticks to my side like glue on the way to the town square- luckily for us, it's a short walk, for many others I see on the way it's much longer. Some kids are covered in dust from the knees down, others don't even have any shoes.

I part from Robin for a few seconds, sneaking up behind one girl whose ribs show through her faded and patched dress and pressing a few dollars into her hand. She whirls around to search for the giver, but I've melted back into the crowd with Robin again.

I'll do anything to keep the people's heads up and undermine the Capitol's determination to keep us in poverty.

Standing at the checkpoint, I see Abel in the next line over; he meets my eye and we give each other a short nod. He'll be going to the fifteen-year-old section, while I'm with the seventeens and Robin will sit nervously with the thirteens.

I lead my little brother to his section and then retreat to mine. Olivander's there, waiting for me already, and I take a position beside him. Let's get this over with, I've got things to do.

DISTRICT ELEVEN FEMALE: ARDITH RENVILLE

I'm drawn towards the sound of a child crying like a moth to a flame, and I quickly locate a young boy with a large gash in his shin curled up on the side of the country road. "What happened? Are you all right?" I ask, rushing over to his side and kneeling beside him. He gives me a scared look and holds in his sniffles for a few moments.

"Th…th…there was a dog," he stammers nervously, and I nod understandingly. The feral dogs of Eleven are vicious and I've bandaged several bites before. I sling my bag off my shoulder and root around in it for a roll of bandages and some of my mother's homemade antiseptic ointment.

"I'm going to help you, okay? Just relax, dear, you'll be okay," I explain soothingly to the little boy, who can't be more than nine.

"What are you doing?" he asks, cringing away from me as I reach for the wounded area.

"I'm going to clean and bandage the area, all right? It may hurt a bit but this is important, we can't have you getting an infection!" I've seen infected wounds kill in the lower classes before, and my heart always goes out to the limping orchard workers who have never fully healed from similar injuries.

"What is that?" he asks of the ointment when I squeeze a dollop of it into my hand.

"Just the cleaning agent I'm using, calm down now."

He winces when I apply the creamy mixture to his leg, but I'm proud when he doesn't cry out. He's pretty tough for a little boy.

"It looks like the mark isn't that deep, you should heal quickly!" I cheerfully tell the boy. He nods, still staring at me warily. "Where's your family? Do you want me to take you to them?"

"I don't have any family," he whispers, edging away from me. I lay a cautious hand on his shoulder and its boniness shocks me. This poor little boy must be starving.

"Well, you should have some good nutrition to help you get strong and heal faster, even fight of those dogs next time!" He smiles at that. "I'll give you this, it's what I have with me at the moment." I hand him a handful of dollars, it won't go far but at least it's something. I don't think Mother would be too happy with me just giving away all my pocket money, but this kid needs it more than I do. I actually have meat on my bones, this poor little boy doesn't.

"Thank you, Miss!" he chirps and limps away much more happily. I watch him go for a few moments, then I'm off to the reaping. I take a quiet spot in the seventeen-year-old girls section, watching the nervous girls all around me and every so often running my hands over my short black hair in anxiety.

"Excuse me, would you mind moving over a bit?" I'm startled from my reverie by a group of four girls wanting my attention. The girl in front, with frizzy dark hair and skin almost as dark, smiles apologetically.

"Sure, I don't mind." I step to the side and let the group fill in around my old spot. I can feel their eyes on me still, and they don't turn away until Camille slinks up to my side and nods in greeting. They watch me because of my relative affluence in the district, and I find it unbelievably awkward. Just because my mother has a successful business, we don't need to be observed.

Camille, quiet as always, is breathing heavily and stares at me with wide eyes. "You okay?" I ask.

"Scared," she whispers. I nod and put a gentle, friendly arm across her shoulders just as the escort steps up.

We have someone new. Fantastic! For all my previous years, we've had a cynical, hateful man who never had any faith in our district. That did nothing for the rest of our hopes.

A young woman takes her place onstage, sprightly taking the microphone and beaming. "Hello, Eleven, I'm so glad to be joining you for the very very first time ever! I'm your new escort, Lucretia, and I have the honor of choosing two brave tributes for the Games!"

I bite my lip. Lucretia seems nice but… she's happily sending kids to their deaths. The Capitol is so unreliable… they provide my mother's business but then they host the Games as well. It would be so much easier if I could just pick a side!

"For our ladies- isn't this exciting, my first tribute ever!- Ardith Renville!"

I burst into tears. Me? The Games? How am I supposed to do that? I can't even defend myself against other people's criticisms, much less against real weapons.

It's a shaky path to the stage and by the time I reach Lucretia, who's gazing at me worriedly, I'm trembling all over. The Games?

I'm going to die. I'm going to die and there's nothing I'll be able to do about it. Of course, that thought only makes my tears flow more freely. I don't want to die, I have things to live for! I force my grimace into a neutral face just in time to glance over at the boy who's just arrived on stage, his coppery face carefully arranged in a blank expression.

"Ardith Renville and Terran Provost, everyone!"

I wipe away another tear before reaching out for Terran's hand. He shakes mine carefully, face still wiped clean. He almost reminds me of my brother Osbert, hiding himself behind a cautiously constructed mask.

He reminds me of the dear brother I may never see again. I didn't even say goodbye to him this morning, I'm such an awful person!

The tears well up again and I can't bother to care about my public image anymore.

Well, we've met a third of the tributes now! What districts may be next? Who knows... 0.o

Questions:

Who was your favorite tribute from this chapter?

Are you seeing any possible alliances?

What is your favorite tribute archetype to read about?

Okay, PenMagic has asked me to broadcast these authors who have SYOT slots to fill: Lightning at Noon and wwheisenberg! If you want to make another tribute, I recommend visiting their pages XD Another open SYOT can be found written by The Lunar Lioness.

And, as always, tell me what you thought! :) Love you all!