Author's Note (Dec. 27, 2013) - This story is the 72nd Hunger Games. Yes, it used to be the 71st, until I realized Johanna won the 71st, which I'm surprised no one ever pointed out. So, wherever you see it mention the 71st, it's actually the 72nd. Thanks a lot! PS, if you're reading this, I'm still here. Reviews are always appreciated, just keep in mind, this was my first story ever, so be gentle!

It was 7:50 pm in the Capitol of Panem, and people were pouring into the Square. Bars and pubs were packed with eager citizens bouncing on their seats in anticipation of the recap of the Reaping. Families settled in front of their TV sets, smiles across their faces.

Spirits were always high this time of year, and the Reaping was just the beginning. The anthem began to play and President Snow's face flashed across the screen as he began to give his annual speech in regards to the games, he finished with the Treaty of Treason and the screen switched to a shot of District One's Justice Building where the glamorous Paola Merengue stood on the stage, towering over the two small children that had been reaped. The girl looked about twelve, her chocolate brown curls spilled across her shoulders as she examined her perfectly manicured nails, looking bored as she waited for her volunteer to come and take her place on the stage. The boy was a little older, but looked just as haughty, standing with his thumbs in his pockets, a disgusted look tainting his handsome face. The entire district stood in silence, more than ready to be done with the Reaping so that they could return to their large houses and their frivolous celebrations, feigning teary relief that their children had not been chosen to compete in this year's Hunger Games.

"Any volunteers?" Paola called out to the crowd. Two teenagers, a dark haired, fearsome looking boy and a very pretty blonde girl stepped to the front of the stage.

"Wonderful!" Paola called out pushing aside the younger children to welcome the tall, strong and beautiful volunteers.

The girl, Ariadne, was sixteen years of age, with honey blonde curls reaching her waist, turquoise eyes and sun kissed skin. Bravo, the boy, was eighteen years old and massive. He was everything a career tribute should be: Handsome, with dark hair and olive green eyes, chiseled features and defined muscles. Hollers and catcalls rang throughout the Capitol Square when the cameras panned in on the naturally beautiful faces of this year's District One tributes.

The screen went dark and lit up again on the Justice Building of District Two, where a large group of lethal looking children stood towards the front of the stage. Trainees. District Two had the largest history of victors in all of Panem, and it was no secret why. Far from the Justice Building, far from the Square, far from the watchful eyes of Peacekeepers, there was a lone building, surrounded by vast fields on one side, and by mountains on the other, was the Training Center. An exact replica of the it's namesake in the Capitol, founded years ago by past victors who wished for more riches to be given to their district, and knowing that the only way was to produce more victors. Orphans were to be brought to the Center, children of criminals were brought there as punishment, any child caught outside after curfew, any child caught breaking the law, they were brought to the Center to train. They left their confined home once every year, on Reaping day. The children that emerged from the place could hardly be called children. Dressed in all black and covered in scars, they were animals, trained to hate and kill. Tortured, beaten and starved to build their strength, their eyes were cold and lifeless. They were programmed to kill. There was an unspoken rule in Two, a Trainee would volunteer for any child who was reaped, unless the child that was chosen was a trainee themselves. The children of District Two never had to worry about participating in the Hunger Games.

Seraphina Ellsworth flipped her jet black hair over her thin shoulder and strutted to the center of the stage, reaching one of her pointed, claw-like nails into the glass Reaping bowl and stabbing a slip of paper.

"Ladies first." She announced, in a deep, bored tone. She plucked the slip of paper off of her nail, "Audrina Prescott."

A small girl with impossibly long brown hair and hazel eyes calmly extracted herself from the group of Trainees and made her way to the stage. Her face was calm and emotionless, as she shoved her small, scarred hands into the pockets of her leather jacket, but in her eyes was a wicked gleam of amusement. A natural born killer, the girl was radiating with bloodlust.

Seraphina walked over to the second Reaping ball, repeating her obnoxious show of stabbing the fateful slip of paper with her nail.

"Rey Kamensky.", she announced, scanning the crowd. A frail, gangly looking boy began to make his way for the stage, when a tall, muscular, blonde Trainee hopped onto the stage.

"I volunteer as tribute.", he said in a bored tone, smirking at his fellow tribute.

"How nice," Seraphina drawled out, "and what is your name, young man?"

"Crisis Cavitch."

"Wonderful. Ladies and gentlemen of District Two, I present to you, your tributes of the Seventy-First Hunger Games, Crisis Cavitch and Audrina Prescott."

The Reaping in Three was uneventful as always, citizens withdrawing themselves from the factories and research laboratories for the morning. Underfed children huddled together, near the stage, and their teary eyed parents looked on from the back. Wiress and Beetee, Three's remaining victors, sat on the stage, frustrated looks upon their faces.

A girl named Aria volunteered for a younger girl named Crystal. She refused to state her reason for doing so, it was doubtful that she even knew why herself. The boy, Corbin, looked as though he was struggling to hold himself together, which was saying something, compared to his family, who had been reduced to a small pile of screams and tears.

Reapings like this one was annoying to the Capitol audience. Dramatic, messy and noisy. These tributes would no doubt be dead within seconds of the gong.

The Reaping in Four was a short one. Harbor Aberdeen, a boy who either had a death wish or an obsessive desire for glory, threw himself on the stage before Winona Flannery could touch the Reaping bowl with one of her hot pink fingers.

The girl's Reaping was slightly more dramatic. Aurora Spring, a bronze haired girl with tan skin and green eyes confidently made her way to the stage when her name was called. However, when the Treaty of Treason was being read, Annie Cresta, the previous year's victor, started to have one of her episodes, screaming out horrors from the arena and obscenities against the Capitol. Finnick Odair hit the Peacekeeper that tried to haul Annie away before the screen went dark. They would both be punished severely for the incident. To anyone watching, that much was clear.

In Five, an innocent looking blonde girl volunteered. It was obvious from the way that she moved, and her indifferent expression, that she had been trained. A rarity in Five, but not completely impossible. Not wanting to be outdone, a mad-looking redhead boy named Electron jumped up to volunteer almost as soon as Fallon Quinley had finished congratulating the girl, Hana. It was with much dismay to his mother, who fell to the floor in sobs, screaming for him to come back, her arms outstretched towards him. Though of course, he would never be able to return to her, not after he uttered the irrevocable words with a crazed glint in his golden eyes.

Six's Reaping was another of great interest. For the Capitol audience, Six hadn't been granted much attention in a few years, probably due to the fact that Titus the Cannibal had come from there. Most tributes from Six were children of morphling-addicts, never quite right in the head, and more often than not, killed in the bloodbath.

"Lex Slawson!" Hadley Ebright called out excitedly. She was practically bouncing in her five-inch bubble gum pink stilettos, thrilled for her very first Reaping as an Escort. A handsome eighteen year old boy solemnly walked up to the stage, wiping grease from his forehead in a last-ditch effort to look presentable in front of the entirety of Panem. It was evident from his taut muscles hidden underneath his black t-shirt that Lex worked in one of Six's several automotive repair factories.

"How absolutely perfect!" Hadley gushed, letting her small hand linger on Lex's bicep a moment longer than necessary.

"And now for our lucky lady who will be joining Mr. Slawson!", she said, strutting over to the second Reaping bowl and pulling out the first slip of paper that her finger's touched.

"Aphrodite Gleam!"

It seemed as though all eyes turned to the fourteen year old section. A thin girl with platinum blonde hair and large gray eyes emerged from the crowd. The smart girl. The girl people stayed away from. The girl with the scar. The girl with the fits. The girl who had the accident.

She made her way to the stage slowly, her eyes never once losing their wide shape and bewildered expression. She stood centimeters from Lex, their shoulders barely touching.

Hadley babbled on about the honor and joy of being a part of the Hunger Games, as if they didn't already know. Lex stared straight ahead, his defined jaw was set and his eyes were cold and steely, save for the worried glance he cast down at his district partner every few seconds. Aphrodite seemed to be lost in her own mind, and glassy tears streamed down her ivory cheeks.

The Treaty was read, the tributes shook hands, and then, instead of dropping Aphrodite's hand and turning his back to her, Lex pulled her closer, crushing her against his chest and burying his face in her hair, but not before the audience caught a glimpse of a single, shining tear falling from his eye.

The strange, emotionally charged Reapings continued in District Seven.

"Hattie Arlo!" Winona Spell announced. A strange mixture of a scream and a sob was heard and the cameras zoomed in on a tiny, scared looking brunette girl who turned to the orange-haired girl next to her.

"Please! Please, Phoebe. Please go for me, take my place. You'll come home, I know you will. You're a survivor, you can climb trees, I've seen you. You can throw axes, you never miss. You actually stand a chance!"

Phoebe began to shake her head, but her mind had different plans, "Yes."

Hattie exhaled in relief and pulled her friend into a hug.

"Thank you!", she breathed, pushing Phoebe toward the stage.

Oh the silly, simple-minded people of the Districts. When would they ever understand what a great honor it is to be chosen as tribute?

"Well, what a show that turned out to be. Congratulations, Phoebe!", Winona exclaimed, reaching into the boy's bowl before anything more dramatic could take place.

"Noah Cooley!"

A dark haired boy with a slight limp walked up to the stage, his cold eyes never leaving the camera, and sending chills down the spines of anyone who dared to look into them. Despite his limp, it was clear that he was one to watch out for. His glare sent a clear message to anyone watching: Don't count me out.

The screen flashed to the bland textile factory buildings of District Eight, where Lola Kelch stood with her scrawny arms and talon-like nails around the two attractive teenage tributes.

Celeste DeWynter, a seventeen year old girl who bared strong resemblance to a porcelain doll. Her smooth skin, full red lips, rosy cheeks, wide-set blue eyes and long caramel colored hair was sure to catch the attention of every man in all of Panem. She stared straight into the camera, flawlessly smiling, winking and blowing kisses to the people of her district, assuring them that she was not fazed, she was confident of her return.

Daniel Kerwick was Celeste's polar opposite. The entire district was dead silent when his name was called. He was escorted to the stage by a Peacekeeper, clad in the unmistakable gray jumpsuit of District Eight's correctional facility, his wrists bound with silver handcuffs. Of course no one cared that he had been reaped, he was a criminal. He deserved his fate, to die in the Hunger Games. And if by some miracle he managed to win, he would not receive the same special treatment that most victors did, he would likely be returned to prison or executed, depending on the severity of his crime and President Snow's mood on that particular day.

In Nine, a short orphaned girl with wild black hair was reaped, Roman Caulder. She skipped and twirled her way to the stage, giggling to herself and chewing on her bloody and virtually nonexistent fingernails. Occasionally the giggling would stop, her eyes would roll backwards in her head and she would begin to growl under her breath, these spells would only last for a few seconds however, and Roman's body would briefly convulse, and she returned to her giggling and chewing. The people of District Nine almost looked relieved when Roman's name was called, as if they were glad to see the demented girl leave their district.

The boy from Nine was named Fruman. He was tall, dark and intimidating with an ugly scar stretching across his left eye. The citizens of Nine weren't upset to see him go either, in fact they weren't surprised at all.

As usual, the rest of the Reapings were relatively uneventful. The pastures in Ten, groves in Eleven, and coal-dust covered shacks in Twelve were the final reminders to the Capitol citizens of just how good they had it.

From Ten, there was a skinny bohemian girl named Acacia and a solemn boy named Holden. In Eleven, Mayor Wells's daughter, Lucy, was reaped, causing quite the controversy because her name was only in the bowl twice. The boy from Eleven was named Hero. He was 12 years old, and the oldest son of two poor farmers, probably forced to take an unthinkable amount of tesserae.

The Reaping in Twelve was mundane as usual: Haymitch Abernathy's drunken antics, Effie Trinket's annoyance with the uncivilized people, underfed children covered in ash, piling into the Square.

Riah Hutchinson and Eliot Jay were reaped, two decent looking adolescents despite their hollow faces and skeletal physiques. It was possible, with some training, Capitol food, and the help of a prep team, that they would make it past the first few seconds this year. Unlikely, but possible.

With that, the recap was over. Caesar Flickerman appeared as photographs of the tributes flashed across the screen.

"Well there you have it folks, a great looking bunch we have this year! Remember the Opening Ceremonies will be the night after next. Goodnight, and Happy Hunger Games!"

There you have it! All the Reapings. I realize some are shorter than others, but truly I went off what you guys gave me.

Now that the first chapter is up, you may begin promoting your tributes to other people. Anyone who reviews or PMs me with votes will be counted.

The first impression votes have closed and been tallied up. This chapter marks the next phase of voting, which anyone can participate in!

You may vote for 5 tributes this time, though none of them may be your own. Sorry, not yet! :)

This vote is required for all submitters!

Submit votes in this format:

1. 25 points

2. 20 points

3. 15 points

4. 10 points

5. 5 points

There will also be bonus points for this chapter, available only for submitters if they wish. To earn bonus votes, you need to send me suggestions for the Opening Ceremony costumes, because honestly coming up with 24 on my own is going to be ridiculous. Pick a district (any one, it doesn't have to be one your tributes are in) and submit, in detail, the costumes for both tributes. If you submit, you will get 10 points for ONE of your tributes, and 10 points for another tribute that is not yours. If I choose to use yours, you will get 20 points for each.

Also, make sure to go to www . missbeccaaa . blogspot . com (with no spaces of course!) to see pictures and bios of all the tributes! I updated and changed some since writing this!

Message me if you have any questions, and may the odds be ever in your favor!