Cyrus Calius, District Eight Male

I open my eyes from my goodnight's rest from yesterday. I wake up as I have every other day in my life, getting out of bed, putting on some clothes, then walking downstairs for some kind of breakfast.

"Morning Diana," I say, walking past her.

"Morning pest."

It was only me and her in this house in a little place known as the Victors Village. Mother and father lived in the richer part District Eight, where it was quiet and peaceful, away from the bustling city and smoky factories. I was born to the rich class, luckier and obviously more deserving of a home of this grandeur than the other ratty citizens of the District. Sadly, the District was also home to many rebels. I mean, seriously? Why would you rebel against the Capitol that gave me this wonderful home?

How did I get in the Victors Village? My sister Diana won the Hunger Games three years ago, also known as the 397th Hunger Games. She won by taking the Cornucopia from the Careers by throwing knifes at them, who later fled. She waited for the tributes to die she was eating a bunch of food. The finale involved her and the boy from one. He was quite chivalrous, and probably let her win. He was really, really stupid. Grade A stupid. After I moved in with her, I hear Diana have hallucinations once in awhile, mainly at night. They were so annoying, and ruined my beauty sleep.

As I sat down at the table, where a stack of pancakes were waiting. I put some in my mouth, and say, "Hey Diana, can you please hallucinate quieter? I need my sleep.

"Well, it's only fair that you lose sleep when I lose some," she retaliates with sheer hostility.

"Well, your hallucinating about the Hunger Games, right? They're only games."

Diana freezes like some kind of demented statue, and slowly turns around.

"It's not just a Game, okay. Twenty three children are killed every year for entertainment, and this year, forty seven will be killed."

"Forty-four to forty-seven children could be killed, Diana."

"What makes you think there will be four victors this year? The Capitol will make sure there is only one victor, and chances are that if your reaped, you'll be dead, and I will feel no sorrow for you, ignorant brat."

Diana slaps me on the face, making my cheek sting. I nearly cry for some reason. The welt hurt so badly, like some kind of monster scratching my face.

"Grow up Cyrus, Mommy and Daddy aren't here now."

Father was a Peacekeeper, and he had no time to take care of me, with there being many acts of crime in District Eight. Their marriage was more of a mutual agreement, father being rich and mother being fairly attractive. They live on their own now, with no more stress of taking care of me, and mother passed me over to Diana. She should be privileged to be in the same house as me.

After I finish my breakfast, I start walking towards the square for the reapings. They were meaningless for me, because I knew I would never be picked. I would live the same life of grandeur as my ancestors have.

Bengaline-Lyra Argyle, District Eight Male

The baby dragon runs away from me, laughing and screaming in delight as she runs around the house. I chase after her, attempting to quell her laughter. She's about to wreak and destroy something again, and it's my job to tame her. There were few valuable possessions in this house not yet damaged, and this dragon will wreak everything in its path.

She runs towards the table, where a glass vase is sitting and bumps into it. I know that now it is too late to stop it. I have failed again.

As the delicate vase falls to the ground, my little sister, Surah-Jacquard, has broken another one of our vases. It shatters on impact, glass shards scattering nearly everywhere in the room.

Apparently my older sister, Elle, heard the noise and came rushing in. She sighs, then looks at my sister, then at me in a very disappointing look.

Even disappointed, she looked beautiful, with her honey-blonde hair and blue eyes looking straight me, the brave knight, and the little dragon also known as my little sister. Nearly every time she looks at my family, its in disappointment, but she was still an angel. She not only is very beautiful, but she volunteers at charites, which makes her even more of an angel.

"Breakfast is ready," she says, still with a hint of disappointment in her voice. I have failed once again. If I fail taming the baby dragon, I must fight her in mortal combat, knowing I may die. But I can't fail, because I'm a knight in shining armor. The knight always wins.

As I walk in to eat breakfast, which is a meal of sausage and bread, I see a bug flying around, with my family ignoring it, even my older brother, Ree, Whose real name is Terry-Velour. But we only use that on formal occasions.

Ree has a phobia of bugs, and lightning, and tight spaces, and... pretty much almost anything. He looks younger than me, and I am obliged to protect him at any costs. Some are even amazed that I am younger than him.

"It's on me! Its on my BACK! Quick, get it off, get it off!

Ree has just noticed the bug that has flown onto him, and I immediately rush to get rid of it. A few seconds later, I slay the beast threatening him, smacking it onto him.

Ree rubs his back in pain. "Thanks Benny," he starts, his voice quivering," that was a close one..."

"No problem," I respond proudly. Although I didn't save the vase earlier, I still had a feeling of accomplishment from saving Ree into going into a major panic attack.

My family and I continue on eating breakfast, and I have a growing feeling of accomplishment. Although the reaping was today, I felt surprisingly satisfied.

Stella Wakers, District Eight Female

I look at myself in the mirror in my plain white dress. Would anyone notice? Would a peacekeeper know that I stole this? I mean, everyone in the factory I work at steals clothes all the time. Its only fair. We get paid very little, we get to keep somethings we make. I bet that happens in other districts also, right? District Twelve must keep some coal for themselves or District Eleven must keep some of the food they harvest. I would assume this.

I walk out of my small house in the large slum of District Eight. Wearing a dress on a normal day would attract a lot of attention, and someone may even rip it off of you. I've never seen this happen before, but I've heard rumors.

I walk towards Agatha's house. Agatha is one of my friends, who worked in the same factories that my family worked in. Our families worked for fifteen hours on a normal day. We do too, but we get reaping days off. Our families must work until the beginning of the reapings, then go back to work. Unless your child was reaped, that is. You got the day off, which is barley a celebration. The girl that was reaped last year had her whole family turn to drinking, and they couldn't stop. The father of the girl died a few months ago, and the mother is in really poor condition. The girl's brother is a heavy drinker himself, although he's only eighteen.

As Agatha and I walk to the square, we're joined by Alena, another one of my friends.

As we stand in line, we all wait to be checked in. Normally, we'd be engaged in deep conversation, but today, we were all bleak and silent. None of us could speak. We all had the fear of one of us being picked. Although we were only thirteen, we had as much of a chance to be reaped as much as an eighteen year old. We all had taken tesserae, and my sister Hazel, who had an even bigger chance of being reaped, due to being sixteen.

I could not stop shaking the whole time.

Shiloah Moore, District Eight Female

This is awful. This whole place is awful. District Eight sucks. Panem sucks. I know my mother and Grandmother try to love me, but I just want to stab them with a chopping knife. The small shack I live in is okay though.

But this escort is awful. Verity or something, has green hair, green skin, green clothes that were made here, and green everything. And it was all neon green. My brain hurt just looking at her.

I look to the sides, and see mother and Grandmother, looking towards the stage anxiously. They wanted to just get this over with, as did I. My purple flats were kind of uncomfortable also, but oh well. I can deal with this.

"Hey, District Eight," starts Verity, "welcome to the reapings!"

Verity is most known for her informality during the reapings. She's done this quite a few times, and she was demoted from District Four to here last year, mainly because of this gimmick. She apparently can't learn from her mistakes.

"Let's start with the boys!"

I'm thankful that she didn't even bother to play the video that I've watched for the last two years. She is definitely getting demoted to District Twelve next year.

"Our first male tribute is... Cyrus Callus!"

All of the fourteen year olds part and make a path for him. I can't say I'll miss him, he's a spoilt brat that lives with his sister in the Victor's Village. I have no sympathy for this guy.

"No, that is not me! My name is not in that bowl!"

I smile at his arrogance and denial. That's not going to get you anywhere.

Two peacekeepers carry him up to the stage. Cyrus kicks at them and screams obscene curses at them, but he is still tossed up on the stage.

"That's not how you treat me!" He yells, looking at the crowd in disbelief.

"Any who," she says, looking embarrassed to be in the company of such a rude person, "time for our second boy!"

Verity pulls our a single slip on the top of the bowl.

"Bengaline-Lycra Argyle!"

A thirteen year old boy in a very ridiculous outfit walks up onto the stage. He worn a patchwork quilt made to look like a tunic, with heavy lace-up boots that looked very dirty.

But the most ridiculous thing was the headgear. It was a cardboard knight's helmet that barley held back his bright red hair.

The three named knight asks for the microphone, and Verity gladly hands it to him.

"I am Sir Ben," he starts, "and I swear to slay every single dragon in the arena!"

This kid is an apparent nutjob. Dragons? Don't give the Gamemakers any ideas kiddo.

"Now for the girls!"

Verity pulls out the name of Stella Wakers. I've seen her before, but I don't really know her.

The thirteen year olds part for her to walk up, but she stays still in shock. After about ten seconds, peacekeepers take her up to the stage. Stella doesn't even make a fuss like Cyrus did. She is placed onto the stage instead of thrown.

"Now, our last female tribute is... Shiloah Moore!"

That's me.

I knew what to do instantly.

I gasp, putting my acting skills to the test. I slowly walk up, forcing tears to welt up. Some dripped on my red polka dot dress with white spots. They stung my eyes, but it was worth it.

I keep crying as I face the audience. To the average person, there was an arrogant boy, a delusional boy, and frozen girl, and a crying girl. They were guessing we wouldn't stand a chance.

The other three didn't stand a chance, but I did. I was probably the toughest one out there. If District Eight wins, I'll be the lone victor. That is one thing that is guaranteed.

I'm back with a new chapter everyone! I've had some writer's block and school is obviously not helping, but I'm still here!

I'm assuming this next update will come in a shorter time than this one, mainly because Thanksgiving Break is coming up, and I'll have a lot of time to write.

These four tributes were brought to you by myself, TigerGirl22, The Mockingjay Lives, and Sunlight Comes Creeping In.

Question Time!

What do you think about these four tributes?

What are you predictions for them?

Did I portray these tributes correctly?

Should I even have a questions section?

On a scale of 1 to 10, 1 being a trollfic and 10 being the best SYOT ever written, how good is my writing?

-Wolf