What...is...up Hunger Games fans! I'm not sure how soon i will be able to post the next chapters due to school work and stuff. So in the meantime, here's a few suprise POVs to keep you guys busy. I think you guys will like it!

Kodi Nyquist

My mentor won't speak to me. My escort won't speak to me. Selene is the only one who will, and even so, she talks with a questioning tone. But, heck, I don't care. It was worth it to see the look on those Gamemaker's faces. And seeing the look on Quid's face was pretty rewarding too.

My team was all mad at me because I scored a 2 on the Gamemaker's session. I guess it would have been okay if I was a 90 pound weakling. But with my athletic build I get from swimming and running, scoring a 2 was unthinkable.

My mentor asked what I had done to "screw it up" but I refused to tell. Let's just say it involved arrows, a dummy, a burlap sack, and a lot of red and yellow dye. I can't help but smirk every time I think of the surprised look on those Capitol pigs' faces.

It was time for the interviews, and my prep team was busy, chatting away as usual. They were commenting on my low score, but I just tuned them out. "How will you get sponsors now?" one of them asked. I shrugged my shoulders and replied, "I don't know. Impress 'em now?"

My stylist strode in, wearing a ridiculous suit with peacock feathers attached over his shoulders. Emphasis on the cock. But, as opposite as it was, the suit he had made for me was absolutely stunning. It was a bright yellow tux with a red rose attached in the lapel. And on my back, a silver lightning bolt. I guess we were still going with the Children of Lightning theme, a term coined by the Capitol people.

Selene and I stood together while out mentors checked us over. Selene looked good as ever, her hair put up in curls and her dress streaked with lightning bolts. "You look great," I said.

"And you too. Nothing less for the Children of Lightning," Selene replied. I raised my eyebrows and said, "Kinda cheesy don't you think?"

She giggled and replied, "That's the Capitol for you." Finally our mentor approved of our garments, but before he left, he mumbled to me, "Good luck getting any sponsors kid."

I smiled and tapped my temple, replying, "Don't need 'em. All I need is right in here." I wasn't expecting the warm smile he gave me after I said that. I was sort of expecting him to snarl or scold me, or something. But instead, he said heartily, "Well kid, I know you do. Just try not to screw things up." Just like that, he left, and the interviews began.

Being from District 3, we wouldn't have to wait very long for our turn. The tributes before us played the generic cold-blooded killing machine card. It was all very boring to tell you the truth, seeing four tributes in a row answer with grunts and snarls. But the new interviewer, Caesar Flickerman, does a fantastic job at making them look actually likable. This was only his first time interviewing the tributes, but he did his job like he's been doing it for life. He's probably one of the only Capitol people that I could generally like. Y'know, except for the orange skin and dyed hair.

Soon it's Selene's turn to go up. She plays a cute, yet sly angle, and does an excellent job at it. The audience starts laughing when she tells a joke and they listen when she responds. The Capitol respects her and listens to her. It takes me back to when I saw Lynn up there. Entertaining the crowd with her general likability…

The blood…

No, no I can't cloud my mind with those thoughts. But thinking about this made me realize I hadn't been thinking about my interview angle. Would I be witty, sly, or tough? What would my family and friends think of me back at home? Home, where they would be watching anxiously, hoping I would be good enough to land a few sponsors. But then again, I've dashed the hopes of that when I scored a 2 at the Gamemaker session.

Stupid me, I thought. I've just lessened the chances of me coming home. I hate myself for taunting the Capitol with my reckless behavior. And before I know it, Marquette is nudging me, saying it's my turn to go up. Unprepared and unsure. The Hunger Games in a nutshell.

Katarina "Kat" Valence

We were crowded in Kodi's house, sitting around the dinner table. My entire family came to watch, and Garl brought his mother as well. So we were all there to watch Kodi go up to the interviewer.

It seems only yesterday when we first met at school. Back then we were rivals, in track, in swimming, in school. Everything was a competition when we were together. Until that day.

It was a regular old day at first, we learned about electronics and factories and stuff like that. But, when I had asked Kodi if he wanted to race, he said no. I saw his eyes were red and his hands were shaking. It was the first time I had seen him cry.

His sister and I had been classmates together, and since I was with Kodi in track, I always saw her. But I've never seen how close he was to Lynn until that day. The day she died. And ever since, Kodi and I have been more than friends.

Seeing him sit on that stage in that stunning tuxedo brought back memories of when it was his sister walking across that stage. I know this is hard for him, and it turn, it was hard for me. Although I was able to get out a smile when I saw he still had that old beanie he had worn for years.

"Hello there Kodi. Do you mind me calling you that?" the interviewer, Caesar, asked. In my mind I thought, No it's not. Only his real friends and family call him that, not some fake, orange, Capitol freak! But that wasn't what Kodi said. Instead he replies, "Aside from being a little sore from Training, I'm doing pretty well."

Caesar nodded and smiled before continuing. "So, first off, I'm sure everyone agrees your outfit on the Chariot was outstanding! How did you feel about it?"

"Well truthfully, at first, I was shocked, no pun intended," Kodi replied, and the audience, as well as Garl and Vespa, gave small laugh. "But after all the initial weirdness on sparks shooting out of my fingers, I began to feel more comfortable in the costume. Of course, it wouldn't have been possible without the help of my brilliant stylist."

The camera moved over to an ugly looking man whose hair was combed over a bald spot. He was blowing kisses and taking extravagant bows. Kodi must have hated him, because if we were grimacing at the sight of this man, you can only imagine what Kodi thought of him.

"And a great suit it was. Now Kodi, I know it might seem like a rough spot for you, but I must ask. How did such a strong young man like you manage to score only a two on the Gamemaker session?"

Kodi pauses for a second before replying, "Well Caesar, I don't think I'm supposed to say exactly what happened, but let's just say I don't need a training score to tell me how good I am. Because all I need to survive out there is already right here." He points to his head, and gives a sly grin.

That grin says many things; sly, confident, cocky, smart. But I know on the inside, he is hurting. And nobody knows Kodiak Nyquist more than me.

"I think we have time for one more question. So, Kodi, you seemed very emotional when you were reaped. One boy tried to sit up and volunteer, but you held him back. What exactly was going through your mind at that point?"

My eyes widened at the same time Kodi's did. And in those hazel eyes, I saw his memories rushing back to him. Every single moment he had endured up until that moment must have been rushing into his head right then. That expression was only for a split second, but even so, I knew he was in pain.

But he quickly disguised that with another sly smile and said, "Sir, I didn't know that boy. I pulled him down because I didn't anyone's help. I came here by my choice, and I'm going to be that one to win it all. I've got the brains, the muscle, and the stealth to go all the way." Confidant and sly. It must have taken every ounce of will power not to break into tears.

"And a very talented young man you are. Well thank you Kodiak Nyquist and we wish you good luck!" Flickerman says. The crowd cheers as he walks off the stage, enjoying the sly demeanor he had given them. They are so absorbed in his performance that they don't notice him wipe his cheek of a single tear as he walks off the stage.

For years, what happened to Lynn tore at him. Nightmares ruled Kodi's sleep, and everything reminded him of his twin. I found it amazing that he was still so headstrong and sane. But I fear that his father's death has pushed him over the edge. And now that Kodi's in the Hunger Games, there is nothing we at home can do about it.

I know at the stands, the tears have spilled over, even though the cameras are directed at the District 4 girl. And before I know it, I find myself doing the same thing.

Kodiak…what have they done to you?

Marquette Tetra

A ten! I didn't even think I had done anything impressive. I suppose the Gamemakers were impressed by my aim if they gave me such a high score.

Gordon won't talk me, unless you call growling every now and then talking. I think it's because he only scored a 9 from the Gamemakers. My mentor decided to drink so much the day before that he had a massive hangover today. But he was able to mumble, "Good job, kid," and I guess that's something. The only one who spoke to me before the interview was my escort, and you know how what I think of her.

So I didn't really talk to anyone until today, the interviews. This would be another chance to piss my father off. And I would relish every moment of it.

My prep team still had that solemn demeanor they had during my chariot ride. They were quietly commenting, "You did great during that Gamemaker session!" or, "Three days of Training and not a single hair out of place!" I can't help but smile when they speak. Considering what I overhear from the other tributes, I'm glad I have the one prep team that I don't want to strangle.

The team lets my red hair dangle behind my shoulders. Surprisingly, they only apply a bit of powder on my nose and cheeks. All though I really wasn't unhappy about it, I was still curious as to why they were putting on minimal make-up. I ask, "What's with the minimum make-up?" One replies, "We all agreed make-up would only obscure your already stunning place." I was so flattered I must have blushed until my cheeks were maroon.

My stylist made dress that was deep blue with purple streaks spread across the chest. It reminded me of the ocean back at home. The ocean was, in an essence, my lifeline. I didn't know what I would have done without it or my brother for that matter. I can image Kory rooting for me quietly while my father hurls insults at the screen. It's comforting to know that someone back home is cheering you on.

"This dress is just as stunning as the first one," I say to my stylist, whom I've learned his name was Saris. He is still humble and clam, just like the Chariot ride. Saris gives a small shrug and replies, "This dress would be nothing without a beautiful girl to be in it." Jeez, all my stylists were being so kind to me. Not at all like I would have expected them. Not like my escort. Ugh, just thinking about her earrings makes me angry.

I was dressed and all the tributes took their place at the row of chairs. Some tributes looked really unappealing, while others were obviously playing the sexy angle. District 3 were similarly dressed, their outfits streaked with lightning. I grind my teeth. Kodiak, how can I keep my mind off you if you keep looking so dazzling?

It was then that I realized he had never said if I could join him or not. I was sitting next to him, so I could have just asked him right then. I opened my mouth to speak, but I was unable to form the words with my mouth. So Kodi just looked at me questioningly, and I was wishing my prep team had put on more make-up. Then my blush wouldn't be so noticeable.

But I didn't get the chance to try again, because the interviews began. The first few went by fast, at least for me. Probably because the Careers were idiots. But, as that may be, those guys would be my teammates in the next few days unless Kodi says something.

Pretty soon it's his turn to go up, but he sits there and stares blankly. I nudge his shoulder and whisper, "It's your turn to go up." Kodi shakes his head and comes to. Then he proceeds up to Caesar Flickerman, the interviewer.

He's really likeable, makes the audiences laugh a little. He also plays a confidant angle, which I'm sure will overcome his abysmal score at the Training session. But then Caesar comments on the Reapings when he held that boy down. Kodi looks shaken, but he replies confidently before heading offstage.

As he makes his way back to his seat, I see a few tears roll down his cheek, and I know something wasn't right. But before I ask him what is wrong, the announcer calls my name. So I only have enough time to squeeze his arm, and Kodi nods his head, whispering quietly, "Good luck, you'll need it."

But judging by his tears and his puffy red eyes, I think he's the one who needs it more than me.

Korias "Kory" Tetra

Anxiety. That would be the word that describes how I'm feeling. I'm sitting in the living room with my mother, our eyes glued to the TV. I can hear my father swearing loudly in his study. He's been getting angrier and angrier every time Marquette's face comes up on the screen, and when she pulled out a ten on her training score, he was fuming. As for me, my spirits lifted when I saw her get such a high score, even though i couldn't show it for fear of Dad punishing me.

Admittedly, for years I was oblivious to the way my father treated Marquette. I never noticed how he treated me like royalty while she was left in the dust. Until one night, when I heard a ruckus from the living room. I overheard it from my upstairs bedroom, and I thought something was happening downstairs. A burglary or something. I snuck down quietly to see my father and Marquette arguing. They hadn't seen me behind the door, so I was about to go in and ask what was happening.

Until my father hit her. The smack echoed in my ears, and a red palm shaped mark was left on Marquette's otherwise flawless cheeks. But she didn't cry. No, she was never really one for tears. Instead, she stared at our father, and in her blue eyes I saw only rage and hatred.

I suppose my father was caught off guard with the defiant glare, and he quickly stormed out of the room into his study, where he slept. Once the coast was clear, I snuck my way in. Marquette saw me and smiled, the way she always did when she saw me. I told her I saw what happened, and then she told me everything. All the years of frustration, misery, and pent up anger came out. I learned of how our father didn't give a damn about her, and how I was treated like the perfect son. And somehow, she managed not to shed a single tear.

That was when I said I'd help her. Help her get back at our father for the misery he put her through. And it all led up to this point, me watching her interview on the very same couch she told me all her secrets.

Marquette sat up there in a striking blue dress that reminded me of the ocean. The ocean we would always go in before dusk so the sun struck the water just right, leaving a golden hue. Beautiful, just like her. Too bad it was ruined with my father cussing her out on television. I have a feeling the only way he'll be happy to see her is if her face is on the list of the dead. But I know he will be disappointed.

"Look mom, it's Marquette," I say, directing my mother to the TV. She's been a nervous wreck ever since Marquette volunteered. I never noticed how much our mother cared for either to us. Now, her tear stained eyes were glued to the television, making sure to capture every moment.

"So, Marquette, I must say you look ravishing. What a marvelous outfit!" Caesar exclaims. My sister replies, "Thank you, Caesar. My stylist worked hard on it, and it is an amazing dress." She gives the winningest smile she can give, which makes me smile a bit. At least I know she still has some fight in her.

"And your stylist is very talented indeed. So, Marquette, how 'bout that training score. A whopping ten! One of the higher scores in the competition! I must congratulate you."

"Thank you Caesar. I showed the Gamemakers what I was capable of, and I guess they thought it was a star effort!" Marquette says, once again smiling and giving a small flip of her hair. Cute and confident, a good combo. My father swears and says something out stars, but I tune him out and continue listening.

"You have such tremendous confidence, my dear. Why, even back at the Reapings, you've shown that you think of yourself as a contender in these Games. What do you say about that?" Caesar asks.

"Well, I'm quick, I'm strong, and I'm stealthy. And you're wrong about one thing too, Caesar. I don't think I'm a contender, I know." I can't help but chuckle at my sister's brashness. In the study, her line has the desired effect. My father is going nuts, spewing curses that echoes throughout the house. I smile and shake my head. Leave it to Mark to make our father angry.

Caesar continues, "So Marquette, you're such a confident and good-looking young woman that it isn't hard to imagine that you've got guys at home drooling at your feet. Is there anyone special in your life right now?" I stop to think. It's true. Boys at our school have always been chasing after my sister. She is smart, athletic, and good-looking. But no matter how many times a guy asks her out, she always says, "No." So I expect her to just continue with her confident angle.

Which is why it surprises me when she pauses. Her face is now surprised, and she is biting her lip. I don't understand. She was doing so great at the other questions, easily presenting herself as likable, just like how she was back here, at home. But now, for some reason, she actually looks nervous. Finally, she responds, somewhat unconvincingly, "No. I don't."

I can tell that Caesar has more questions for her, but the buzzer rings and Marquette goes back to her seat, leaving me to ponder why she looked so nervous. But I don't get to for long, because my Dad walks into the room, holding a TV remote from his study. "Turn that stuff off son," he says, his hair now messy and his eyes iced over.

"Sir, if you don't mind, I'd rather keep watching," I say, my voice sounding a little irritated. Mom leaves the couch which a scared face, leaving me alone with Dad. I think back to the conversation I had with Marquette years ago, but now instead of her, it was Dad. Cruel, stubborn Dad.

"Why do you care anyway? It's just your sister," he responds, his hand extended out of his sides. "Well she's your daughter. So be supportive and watch," I say, my voice now rising.

His voice rises too, and he utters, "Turn off the TV, son." Without realizing it, it shout at him, "No, Dad. You're not going to tell me what I can or can't do. I'm not your trophy child!" With this, my father throws the remote to the ground and responds, "Dammit son! You better listen to me! It's already bad enough with that stupid bitch defying me; you are not going to do this to!"

Once I hear that sentence, I snap. All those times when he congratulated me on "getting a good catch" or "fastest swim time" flew out the window. Now, all I saw was a cruel old man whom I couldn't stand. So this is what my sister felt every day for most of her life. I can see why she hated it so much. "No Dad, I am! That is my sister going into that arena and I am going support her all the way!"

"I am your father, Kory, you will do as I say!" I stare into his icy blue eyes, channel all my anger into his mind, and say coldly, "You're not my father. Not anymore."

Defiant. That is the word that describes how I am feeling right mow. And it's not going away until my sister comes home.

Almost there...the moment you have all been waiting for...Let the Games begin! Well, next chapter anyways... ;)