Sorry for the delay, lovelies. My family came into town this week so I could only write at night. But they left now so I can write! Anyways, these next reapings might be short because I just crammed them all together. If your character doesn't get a lot of airtime, don't worry, s/he'll get it later.

And Lara Croft makes a cameo! Try and find her (really, I didn't make it that hard.)

DISCLAIMER: Must we do these? Really? What if one of the books/games/whatever is actually yours? Then what?

. . .

District Nine

Luna Night

Nico and Nina wrap their skinny arms around my legs, "we love you Luna."

The twins. They're so cute it should be a crime. I bend down and hug them both, "I love you guys too."

"Can we play 'rosy before you go?" Nina asks.

I look at mom, my eyes asking for the time. She nods and I look at my other sister May, who's thirteen and thinks she knows everything.

"May, do you want to play?" I ask as Nico and Nina grab my hands.

"Me? No way. I'm too old to play baby games." She scoffs, turning away from me.

Fine. Her loss. I turn to the twins and we skip in a circle, singing the silly little nursery rhyme.

"Ring around the rosy, pocket full of posies! Ashes, ashes, we all fall down." The little ones giggle as they fall on the ground. I only crouch down because I don't want to get dirt on my new black dress.

"Okay. Now that you're done playing with the babies, can we go now? I promised Sydney to tell her something before the reapings started." May says, false exasperation flooding her voice.

"Alright. I'm coming May." I roll my eyes and gave the twins one last hug, "love you guys."

I straighten up, give mom a pat on the shoulder, and follow May into the square. She instantly weaves herself in with the other thirteen year olds. I shout a goodbye into the crowd before joining my friends near the front of the crowd. We stand in an awkward silence until the reaping began.

After our mayor finishes droning about the rise of Panem and reading the Treaty of Treason, our ever-flamboyant escort, Lydia, bustles up to the podium. This year her hair is dyed black and looks like she had just woken up.

"Happy Hunger Games!" She cheers, "who's ready to see what two children will be honored with competing this year?"

A few guys boo, but the majority is silent. I tuck the tip of my black bangs behind my ear in anticipation, a silly habit I developed when I turned twelve. I tend to do it when I'm nervous, irritated, or when my stomach's in a knot.

"It's going to be okay. Just calm down." I whisper to myself.

Lydia hops down the stage and pulls a name from the crystal bowl with the girls' names in them.

"And our female tribute is… May Night!" Lydia cheers.

I blink rapidly, my mind trying to process that name. Why is it so familiar? As a soft whispering surrounds me, I can see a girl with long black hair making her way up to the stage. She's wearing my old powder-blue dress and a pair of white flats. May.

"No. No. Volunteer! Volunteer!" I urge myself.

"Do we have any volunteers?" Lydia asks.

. . .

Felix Raven

"Me! I volunteer!" A girl shouts, pushing herself through the crowd onto the stage.

I push May back, "I volunteer."

"Luna don't be stupid." May argues, trying to push me aside.

"Shut up and get off the stage." The volunteer states.

May retreats and I sigh, rolling my eyes. They must be siblings or something of the sort.

"And what is your name?" Lydia asks, holding the microphone up to her lips.

"Lu-Luna Night." She chokes out before retreating a few steps and breaking down into silent tears.

Lydia, with a tear in her eye herself, skips over to the bowl with the male's tributes name in it. With my name in it. My little sister, who's fifteen and home with the stomach flu, told me she had a dream that I was reaped. I had passed it off as nothing, but she has a knack of dreaming about things and then that thing coming true.

"And our male tribute is… Felix Raven!" Gasp. Shocker.

I shake my hair out a little bit, flatten out my bangs and walk onto stage. I keep my head high, my smile sexy. Win them over. Make them love me. Whatever it takes.

. . .

Luna Night

Luckily, as soon as Felix Raven and I shake hands, Peacekeepers take us away so my family and I can mourn in privacy.

I sit down in a chair in the room I'm told to go to, wrapping my arms around my knees and wishing this all away. I wait and wait and wait. Finally, the door opens. May comes in, towing Nico and Nina behind her.

"Mom was too much of a mess to come see you. She fainted right outside." May explains.

I nod as Nico and Nina climb onto my lap.

"Luna, are you leaving?" Nina asks.

"Yeah. I guess I am." I give her a weak smile.

"Will you play 'rosy with us one more time?" She asks.

"Sure."

"May-may, will you play too?" Nico asks.

"Fine." May sighs.

We stand, take each other's hands, and start skipping in the circle. "Ring around the rosy. Pocket full of posies."

Ashes, ashes.

We all fall down.

. . .

District Ten

Cordealia 'Corrie' Liviston

I turn to Veck, smiling. "After today, we're free."

"Yes. We are." He smiles along with me, tucking a stray piece of silvery blonde hair behind my ear.

Veck kisses me on the nose and I giggle. He's the best a girl could have, and he's all mine.

"I love you baby." He whispers.

"I love you too." My ears seem to perk at the sound of the bell tolling, telling us it is eleven o'clock and that we should probably get going. "We've got to go. Daddy will notice if I'm not there."

"Fine." Veck gave me a final kiss on the lips before we separated, standing in our separate places in the square.

I chattered with my best friend, Tiffany, until Dad started to speak. My dad's the Mayor and he's got this way of speaking that tells you he knows what he's talking about. He read through the standard readings and our escort, Lara, approached the podium. Lara isn't like most of the escorts I've seen. She has long brown hair that is always braided and tossed over her shoulder. She tends to wear shorts and shirts that are too small, but this year she's wearing a black dress instead.

"Happy Hunger Games everybody!" She smiles, "let's get started, shall we?"

Lara walks slowly over to the girls' bowl. She doesn't seem to like her dress very much.

"And our female tribute is," Lara pauses as she takes out the slip and smoothes it out on her palm, "Aimee Liviston!"

. . .

Veck Evans

Aimee? No flipping way. Aimee is Corrie's little sister. That little girl is half of my world, Corrie being the other half. I can remember just over one year ago, when I saved that little girl's life.

She was eleven and I had just turned seventeen. On my walk home from school, out to the stables where I work, I caught her and a group of kids a little older than her pushing her around by a river that cuts through the heart of the district. I stayed nearby, climbing a tree just incase something went wrong and I was needed. Corrie and I had been dating for a year then, and I was very protective of her and her sister both.

The kids taunted her and shoved her onto the ground, dangerously close to the river. I intervened and ended up having to hit one or two of the older kids to get the point across.

I'd do anything to protect that little girl. Anything. If she doesn't get a volunteer, I'll go in with her.

But I don't have to, because a voice is calling out to volunteer. A voice all too familiar. A voice I don't want to hear in this specific situation.

"Me, I volunteer!"

Corrie shoves her way onto the stage, past Aimee and up to Lara, "I volunteer."

Aimee pales and faints right then and there. Mayor Liviston rushes over to her and carries her off the stage and into the Justice Building.

"I'm Corrie Liviston."

"Well, you must be the Mayor's daughter, then. And Aimee was your sister, correct?" Lara smiles, "well, enough Pomp, on to our next tribute!"

Lara strides over to the second glass bowl, pulls a name from the very bottom, and returns to the podium. In her high pitched Capitol accent, she reads the last name I'd expect.

"Veck Evans!"

. . .

District Eleven

Matilda Neare

I looked ahead, staring at all of the heads in front of mine. At this rate, I might be able to see over the others' heads by the time I'm eighteen.

"Hey, Matilda." One of my best friends, Ri-Ri, greets.

"Hey Ri-Ri. What's up?" I ask, staring straight ahead. I've been finding it hard to look at her as of late.

"Nothing. I was just talking to my brother, and he says he found out that all of the reapings are pre-selected since there are so many of us. He says that all of the slips in the bowl have one name on all of them, no matter how many times your name is supposed to be in." I can see Ri-Ri smile out of the corner of her eye. "Who knows. It could be your name in that bowl."

"Ri-Ri, please shut up." I beg, turning on her sharply. I don't want to think about that. About how I could be the only person whose name is in that glass bowl.

"Okay, calm down." She smiles and I cringe.

Ri-Ri is from one of the poorest families in the district. She, along with all of the other poor kids, climb the fruit trees. My parents package the fruits and vegetables and prepare them for shipping to the Capitol and, sometimes, the other districts. The point of that whole thing was that Ri-Ri, being poor, has poor dental hygiene as well. She lost her front tooth recently and it's really creepy looking.

I shook my head, turning away as the reapings began. I hummed through the opening ceremony. The only time I really allowed myself to pay attention was when the actual reaping began and our escort, a man whose name I've long forgotten, comes onto the stage.

"Hello, hello District Eleven!" He cheers, "Let's get started!"

He hops over to the first bowl- the bowl with the girls' names. He pulls one out, walks back to the podium and reads the name out loud.

"Matilda Neare." He calls loudly.

I locked up. What? My name? I looked at Ri-Ri, who mouthed 'told you so' at me. I dragged myself up to the stage.

"Do we have any volunteers?" He asks. Of course there are none. What was I expecting? "No? Okay then!"

. . .

Blaise McCormac

I watch as the tiny twelve year old girl walks up to the stage and click my tongue in disappointment. Of course. Of course a twelve year old would get picked. She's a cute looking little kid, with curly brown hair and grey eyes. She's a little chubby, but aren't all twelve year olds?

"And now for our male tribute!" Harvey, my district's escort, walks over to the second bowl and pulls out a slip. He returns to the podium and reads the name out loud, "Blaise McCormac."

Really? How unexpected. I walk up onto the stage and stand next to Matilda. She's shaking a little, but only as much as you would expect. I run a hand through my sandy blonde hair and sigh.

"Let's give our tributes a big round of applause."

They don't clap though. Because they know this isn't fair. A twelve year old and an eighteen year old. I have to kill her. I think desperately. No, I'd never kill a little kid like that. How… how can people even do that? I shake my head, flattening my hair a little bit. Matilda and I turn to each other and shake hands. She looks so tiny, so vulnerable.

Peacekeepers sweep us away, inside the Justice Building. I go into the room they directed me to and as soon as I sit down, my sister Tara and her husband Sam burst in. Tara's practically in tears. Ever since our parents were killed by the Peacekeepers, I've lived with Tara. We moved in with Sam after they got married.

Since the day we saw our parents beaten to death, Tara has been overly-protective. Take this situation, now. She's raving about how she wishes somebody should've volunteered for me. And Sam is trying to tell her to calm down. But it isn't working.

"Tara. Calm down." I snap, suddenly very angry with her constant jabbering.

"How am I supposed to calm down? My baby brother is being sent away to die!" Tara shrieks, throwing her arms down desperately.

"And I'll come home. For you. I promise." I tell her, pulling her into a hug.

"But how are you going to kill that little girl?" She asks, holding me at arms length and staring right into my eyes.

Good question.

. . .

District Twelve

Jocelyn Bennett

I looked at my mom sadly. She must know how terrified I am. Reaping Day does this to me. I turn into a nervous wreck. Every year since I was four years old, one of my siblings has died in the Hunger Games. One year, two of my siblings died. The next year, the Quarter Quell, another died. I'm so scared. This is my third reaping and I have over fifteen slips in that bowl. I had to. Otherwise, even with the dwindling numbers of my siblings, I never would have made it.

I can't help but think, as I hug my parents goodbye, that this may be my last hug. I've been lucky so far, but the horrible storm looming in the distance doesn't show much promise. Neither does the rain that has forced the reapings inside the Justice Building, for that matter.

"We love you sweetie." Mom kisses me on the forehead, "Maybe we can have more of those apples you picked afterwards."

"Okay." I smile before turning and entering the swarm of children moving into the building.

It's noisy inside but at least it's warm. I shiver and try to wring out my curly brown hair as I make my way over to the rest of the fourteen year old girls. I also attempt to wring out my dress- a pink checkered dress that belonged to my sister. It's still a little big since she made it for herself when she was fifteen- the year before she was reaped. That's my outfit- my sister's big checkered dress, a pair of flats with a hole almost worn through the toe and a locket with our family picture in it.

The reaping begins and the district's escort, a relaxed looking woman named Nessie, comes onto stage. She's dressed for the weather- in a bright yellow raincoat, silly black galoshes and a yellow rain hat. I giggle.

"Happy Hunger Games! And may the odds be ever in your favor!" She cheers. Ever since before anybody can remember, that has been my district's escort's signature. "Let's get started. Ladies first!"

Nessie walks down the stage and reached into the girl's bowl. Swirls her hand around. Plucks a name between her freakish fingernails and returns to the podium. In her high Capitol accent, she reads the name of the tribute.

And I'm not surprised when I hear that it's mine.

. . .

Ian Drees

"Jocelyn Bennett."

No. Not again. Not that family again. I shake my head sadly. A few years back her brother and my best friend, Tiek, was killed in the games. Actually, every year since I was at least eight, a member of her family has been sent to the games. It's a bit sad, to be honest.

"And now for our lovely Gentleman!" Nessie pipes, hopping about between the bowl and the podium. She stands erect, still far shorter than anybody I know, and reads the name as loudly as possible, "Larkspur Drees!"

Once, a long time ago, I got into trouble with mother and she slapped me. It stung badly and I had to ice my face. Is that what's happening now? Have I been slapped? Or is this something worse? Worse than being slapped? Have I been stabbed? What's happening? I try to regulate my breathing as my mind registers that yes, Larkspur has been reaped. Am I moving? I look down and see that, indeed, I am running towards the stage. I'm shouting something, as well.

"I volunteer! Me, Ian Drees! I volunteer!" I finally register my actions and slide to a halt next to Larkspur.

Lark gives me a grateful look before retreating into the crowd. I sigh as I take in my actions. The consequences. The fact that I may not make it. But when I steal a glance at Jocelyn, all I think is that she must make it out alive. I owe it to her. To her family for not taking Tiek's place when I had the chance. As we shake hands, I begin to question whether I volunteered to protect Larkspur, or if I did it to protect Jocelyn.

We're lead away, deeper into the Justice Building. We have an hour to say goodbye to our families. My family comes in first. Larkspur looks far-off in his own mind. My twin sister, Isobel, sits on my right and takes my hand in hers.

"Ian," She whispers, holding my hand up and pressing it to her lips, "Ian do you remember when we were little and we rescued that pregnant dog?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I remember." I say, wondering why Isobel would bring this up.

"Do you remember how, after she had the puppies, those two puppies would cry and cry before all the others died? Do you remember what mom called that?"

"Twin telepathy." I nodded, remembering it clearly.

"We've got that same connection. Please, please come home. I'm afraid that if you die in the arena, I'll die with you."

. . .

The reapings are over! Wahoo! Now, here's how this is going to go- Train rides for the odd districts, chariot rides for the even ones, and the rest is cut up so that each character gets their screen time before they die.