Warrior.

Your entire world will turn into a battlefield tonight.


Lancel Deimos, District One Male.


The first thing I notice when I walk out to breakfast is Swift's eyes, darting up to meet mine. Oh crap. Did he find out? As I continue towards the table, I skim my eyes over Gloria. She wouldn't be as petty to tell them that I'm not joining the Careers, would she? Gloria ignores me, I doubt she found pleasure in ratting me out. Then again, we're from two different worlds and in here, everyone is your enemy.

"I see someone has finally joined us," I look at Swift, his smile sickly sweet. Yeah, he knows. "Considering your track record of not turning up to important gatherings, I didn't think you'd make it."

"It's only breakfast, Swift. Hardly that important."

He places his spoon on the side of his bowl and narrows his eyes. "Well you see, meeting with the Careers is, and you didn't do it," I hear the sharp intake through his nostrils. "Please tell me that you were too busy with weapons training to be bothered to make it?"

It's going to come out anyway. The thought argues in my mind, but by saying it, I'm showing I'm strong and dependant and maybe, maybe Swift won't be too spiteful to sap from my sponsor fund. "I don't want to be in the Careers."

His fist connects with the table and I jump. "You what!"

"Please calm down the dramatics," Aphrodite interjects. "It's his choice whether he wants in the monster troupe or not."

"Does he not realise he will die quicker? Do you realise that you will die quicker?"

I shrug nonchalantly. "The thought crossed my mind, but my odds are probably better, if you think about it."

"You shouldn't have to think about it," he hisses. "Your district should make it clear where you belong."

I keep the corner of my eye focused on Gloria, her body telling me that she doesn't care as much as she should. Watching them yesterday, I knew instantly the tension would be bubbling. That girl - Lakyn - was smiling and Gloria was seething and really, I think I made the right choice, whether Swift thinks it or not. Besides, Thorn is decent, although he pisses me off with trying to be better than me all the time.

Swift inhales sharply again. "At least tell me you aren't allied with some outer district, poverty-ridden bloodbath."

"Well..."

"That's it," he throws his hands in the air and stands up, face a beat red. "If you want to kill yourself quicker, that's fine, but don't try and make me suffer. I have a reputation to withhold!"

He storms off, and with him, the tension calms down. I blink a few times and Aphrodite looks towards me. "Don't worry about it kid. Swift, unfortunately, is another species of moron."

I nod, but the pounding behind my eyeballs reminds me of the anger in my heart. He thinks he can judge me and my decisions. I'm from District One, a volunteer, but that doesn't necessarily mean that I'm a Career nor that I want to be a Career. I clench my fists and slow down my breathing. It's coming, I can feel it. Many years of seizures have taught me the tell-tell signs of when it's about to come. I quickly rise, the lights piercing my brain.

"I want... yeah, I need a shower before we go." I make my excuses and scurry back to my bedroom.

I just need a break. The bright lights, the anger, the pain... it's going to be harder than I assumed. For Harley, though, I'd do anything.


Austal Eridote, District Four Male.


"So I was thinking that me and Gloria should go over here and play with the spears and everything, whilst you guys should go over there and play around with those large boulders things. Yeah?" Lakyn grins.

I blink a few times at her immediate posture and the way she seems to be pointing at me, yet nothing really fits. Despite Cres being the obvious choice for leader, it seems as if Lakyn has claimed that position for herself without really talking about it. Then again, we don't talk. Cres is sullen and brooding, Andora just doesn't turn up, and Gloria seems to be constantly glaring at everyone. Not to mention that it's clear Gloria's district partner isn't joining us.

"I guess that's fine," Cres replies, submissive. "Come on Austal."

I don't know where to go, but I follow Cres anyway and allow him to lead. He takes us across the floor, heading towards a station that has large weights that you can throw.

"Here," Cres says. "You try that one there," he points to the lightest and I frown. "Whilst I try this one, got it?"

"But why? I might want to try the largest one as well." I counter and determination scorches in my veins. If I'm going to succeed, I need to push myself despite my limitations. Cres won't understand but he doesn't have to; I don't plan on sharing my darkest secret with anyone just yet.

"Be my guest. I was just thinking of you, man."

Brushing pass him, I grip the largest weight and drag it from the rack. The thing must weigh a tonne and I briefly struggle to even drag the damn thing.

"Need some help?" he asks.

"No thanks."

"Whatever, kid."

I can feel his eyes on me and I already know he's expecting me to fail. But, I won't. I've never done. Even when I was tired or sweating, aching and groaning in pain, I persevered. Mother always told me that to build up my strength, I needed to work on it. And I need to build that strength up, no matter what, otherwise... otherwise I don't know what will happen.

Going as far as I can manage, I begin to lift it up. The pressure makes my fingers ache and I can already feel my bad arm screeching in agony. With a final heave, I launch the object as high as possible... but it lands just a few inches in front.

"Don't strain yourself," Cres remarks. Yesterday, he barely talked and was slightly defensive, and today, he's suddenly better at talking. I don't know whether it's a good or bad thing. "Here, I'll show you."

He moves in front of me and grabs the weight. But, as he begins to move it around with ease, my eyes find Gloria again and I just stare at her. The way she moves and acts is peculiar. I've never known a woman to act so... tenacious. My mother - the only woman in my life - was sweet and charming and she always told me that every other female was the same. But Gloria isn't, and neither is Lakyn nor Andora. Everyone is so different to what she said, and I can't help but stare and wonder why.

I hear a thud and notice that Cres has thrown it much further than I could.

"See, just need some practice," he offers. "I can help you, if you want? I don't mind. Training was a breeze back home," It was for me, too, but I did it for other reasons that to make myself look good. I walk past him, bitter thoughts betraying my face and he knows something is up. "Austal?"

I don't respond. With an aching arm and a mind that tells me I'm a failure, I head towards the climbing wall to better myself.


Rotem Everly, District Seven Female.


I look over my shoulder awkwardly, scanning for anyone that might come close. I chose this station - poisonous bugs - for a reason; to avoid people. I mean, who would actually eat bugs? It seemed perfect but the creepy crawlies are making me feel sick. The trainer also isn't helping, munching the edible ones down in a show of teaching me.

Mother told me I'm incapable of trusting someone and she's right, but I don't want her to be. I want to trust people, but people are so... unpredictable and I don't like that. You could approach someone and they might be rude and mean, and it shakes my trust.

I hear footsteps and tighten. Mother's words echo in my ear, berating me for being the way I am, even though she is plenty to blame. The dark-skinned girl from District Eleven is suddenly next to me, looking down at the table with pursed lips. I glance over her, forcing myself to try harder.

"Hi," I say and she looks up. Her eyes soften and a smile creeps on her face. "I'm Rotem."

"Caritta," she smirks. "I can see that you aren't a total weirdo like most of the females are this year, so I'll chill here, if you don't mind."

I feel sick. I don't like this, but I breathe through my nose and control my emotions. "I suppose that's okay. I think all the other females are weirdos too."

She snorts. What's so funny? "Including me?" she asks.

"Yeah. I judged everyone as weirdos before meeting them."

"So what, you think I'm still a weirdo?"

"I don't know you so my first impression still remains." I awkwardly respond. There's something in her voice that tells me she isn't happy, but I don't know, I'm not good at reading people that much.

"Aren't you just a peach," she seems upset now. "Anything else you want to slap me with?"

Caritta seems to be angry. Her eyes are narrowing, accusing, and I realise I might have possibly offended her.

"Whatever. Guess you're just as weird as the others. And you were so pretty, too, but behind those curly locks seem to be a freak." she sneers, and with a strop, she stomps away. I blink a few times - even hearing the trainer laugh between disgusting chomps - before it hits me that finding an ally might be harder than it seemed, and really, it's because of me. Mother would be right.

Conflicted, I gaze out on the group. Everyone looks so unpredictable. Jericho is the only though I know I can like and possibly trust, and even then, he's paired himself up, though he doesn't want to admit it. I don't know what the District Six female is like so that's a definite no.

I need someone... tough. I need someone who might be nice, but for arena purposes. I'm no good with people so an alliance based on friendship just wouldn't work, and when I'm on screen, I want Mother to see that I was able to conquer the fears that she non-purposely put on me.

Then, I see them. The tanned boy parries with the boy from District One, both looking sweaty but grinning wildly. They don't look menacing; they look rather friendly, if not like friends. Bench always told me that "bros" were like that. The tanned boy from District Eleven reminds me of Bench. I swallow down my fears and cross the room as quick as possible, scared that if I slow down, I'll chicken out.

When I near, District One suddenly stops and grins. "Hey Thorn, we have company." he smirks.

Thorn turns around, and then his eyes widen. "Oh, the girl from District Seven, right? Rotem?"

I nod curtly and swallow. Come on Rotem, you can do it. "I want to join you."

"Join us?" Thorn responds. "Me and Lancel, we're not allies."

"Hey! I thought we were," Lancel quickly responds. He seems hurt by that. "Well, we are now, because we've got someone else who wants in."

"We're becoming popular," Thorn grins as he turns back to me. "Okay, Rotem, you're in on one condition," he passes me the sword in his hand, still smiling. "Let's see what you can do."


Rafe Corinthos, District Six Male.


The District Eight boy peers in the corner of my eyes. He's at the miscellaneous section, searching through items like I did. He keeps a close eye on me though, but he tries to be subtle. I can't help but smirk at his obviousness.

"What do you think you're doing?" a trainer suddenly complains. I look up, watching the boy collect some pots and pans. "Great, another hopeful tribute."

"Cool," he responds. "Nice way to be professional."

I stifle a laugh and the man looks at me all of a sudden. "What are you looking at, urchin?"

He then disappears under the counter. Wow, he's just great at his job. Here I was thinking that a trainer in the Capitol would have more respect for the lambs to the slaughter, I mean, tributes. I busy myself with the scattered items in front of me, trying my best to create... something. I don't know what I'm doing or what I'm looking to achieve, but, it's better than being intimidated by the Careers with their almighty weapons or the tributes already in alliances.

I would ask Arietta, but she's found interest in the boy from District Seven and I'm happy for her, I really am. I just wanted her to have someone, and if she couldn't find anyone, then I'd valiantly take the role instead. Valiantly, like I did when I volunteered. There's no point in telling people, they've already judged me from that alone. They think I'm either arrogant or stupid. They won't understand my reasons and why there was nothing left for me in District Six.

I sigh, tapping lightly on a small, metal pot. The beat ricochets in my mind and I continue, smiling softly to myself as the beat performs. I miss my battered guitar, too. I whip the side of the pot and smack the top, the melody drifting through the air.

I notice Arietta looking up from her paints, the soft smile on her face welcoming.

"That's brilliant," I go to pause, but instead continue to play. I can't stop now, not when the music is coming together. "So you can play instruments, I presume?"

I finally give in and look up at the shadow cascading over me. The boy from District Eight has a tight smile on his face, but his eyes are wide and curious. "Kinda," I admit. "I'm just musical."

"I like musical. Musical is something that can't be defined and yet, is able to capture the imagination like a collection of colours," he replies, his voice soft. He suddenly takes the seat and slides the plastic bottle in front of him. "Mind if I join?"

"Course not," I beam. "A solo artist is only better with a fellow musicians."

He begins to tap the bottle against the floor and I soon join in. The hard, raw beat pounds in the air and the boy grins, his eyes closed but hands moving rhythmically. I can't stop the smile that spreads out on my face. Allies were something I didn't think of properly - I was prepared to be alone, and frankly, with my status as a wannabee volunteer, people would probably avoid me - but here, with this guy, I feel like luck might be on my side for once in my life.

The beat still goes but I suddenly pause. His eyes snap open, deflated. "Why did you stop?"

"Man, I don't even know your name," I joke lightly, hoping he takes the hint. "I'm Rafe, please to make your acquaintance."

"Joshua," he grins back. "And I'm pleased to make your acquaintance, music-master."

"Puh-lease. You're as good as me. Back in my district, if you played like that on the streets, you could easily afford a luxury life," I freeze. I watch Joshua carefully, waiting for some sign that he might bolt for my tactless way of saying I'm homeless, but he doesn't. "Your district partner," he glances behind him at the white-haired girl, giggling to herself as she taps away at a machine. "Is she your ally?"

His face falls slightly but he picks it back up. Only, this time, I know it's more forced. "Yeah. Bryony is a nice person, albeit a bit too peppy. Have you... do you have an ally?"

I can't stop my face from tightening. I'll probably be on my own, an outcast and loner. It's always been that way, until Dinah came along and we became a duet. I miss being that. "No," I reply, trying to mask the sadness in my voice. "I haven't found anyone. My district partner, she um, I think she's with the moving muscle from District Seven."

There's an awkward pause and Joshua's face looks contorted in concentration. "You're more than welcome to join us, if you want?"

My eyes widen with delight. "Are you... are you sure?"

"Perfectly," he sounds, more natural this time. "Anyone who can keep a beat and loves music is definitely alliance-worthy, in my eyes. Is your token a guitar? Cause I think that'd be awesome."

I can't stop the grin that peels on my face. "Sadly, no. But if you gave me a few seconds, I'm sure I'd be able to find something with strings and more worthy, ally."


Cliff Harlaw, District Five Male.


"What do you want then?" the trainer asks again.

"I don't know..." I mutter, switching back and forth in my mind. On one hand, a sword would be a good bet and keep me away from the blood. But it could also be negative because then I'd have to be sure that I strike hard enough to make a damaging blow. An axe is also good, but it might be too heavy or too light. "I think I'll have... the... sword, please."

He collects the sword from the rack and hands me it with a smile.

"Thank you so much." I take the sword and walk towards the collection of dummies. All the other tributes have similar ideas, and for a moment, I get caught up watching the District One boy slashing at the dummy with a flail. His ally, the girl from District Seven, she's taking an axe to it with more precise strokes. And their final ally is watching on the sidelines with a scrunched-up smile. My heart deflates; I still haven't found an alliance yet.

At this rate, though, there won't be enough time. Everyone is finding allies too quickly. I glance around at everyone, trying to find that one person who stands out from the crowd.

"Hi!"

I quickly turn around at the bubbly voice. It's the District Twelve girl, talking to the trainer I was just with. I watch her carefully as the man produces a smaller blade and gives her it. When she turns around - more than likely heading in my direction - I freeze. Act casual, I remind myself. I have to be polite and poised.

She comes over and smiles. "Excuse me, but are you using this dummy?" she gestures to the one in front of me. Oh, oh yeah. I drop the sword to my side and step pass her. "Thank you!"

"It's no problem," I flash a polite smile. She takes careful aim and then plunges the dagger into the chest. "I take it you know something about knives?" I ask, trying to make the conversation seem natural.

"My family own a butcher shop," she grins. "They taught me everything I needed to know in order to take over."

"My father was the same," I supply. Yes, this is brilliant. "He owns a power factory in District Five. Manages it and everything. I'm going to take over when I go home."

She smirks, but turns quickly to hide it. It makes my chest less heavy - this is good. "That's if you go home," she teases. "I'm taking over the family business when I go home."

"And what makes you so sure of that?" I play around, even though the subject is rather touchy and not at all appropriate. But, if it means getting to know her, then it's better than going through the regular motions.

She turns around again, eyes light and playful. "I have skills with a knife and you know how to run a factory. Which one works better for the Hunger Games, power-boy?"

"Power-boy?" I laugh. "That's clever, but the name is Cliff. And I like to believe that my age can play a part in it, meat-girl."

"I'm probably the same age as you, Cliff," she turns and stabs the knife again. "And it's Lucia, but call me that and I'll treat you like the meat," she giggles, breezy and light. "I prefer Lucy."

Time to strike, I think. She takes another stab at it, still look proud. "So, Lucy, have you got any allies?"

Her eyes widen as she looks at me. "I do, yes," she replies and my heart falls. "But we're all for another person, if you need one?"

"How do you know you can trust me?" I tease, even though I want her to. I need an alliance; I don't want to be by myself, all paranoid and feeling useless.

She pulls the knife out and nods. "You have me there. But, I'd like to think that shared histories over our parents' clear success has gave us some kind of... unspoken bond."

I can't help but smile. I guess Lucia was the one I was searching for all along. I nod in agreement, pulling my sword up. "Does this mean I'm accepted?"

The bell rings, signalling the end of the day. I barely made it. "I'll have to see what you can do tomorrow," she smiles, but then, they switch into a frown "Oh. And you're going to have to speak to Micah."

"How hard can it be?"

She laughs. "You'll see."


Stefan Rui, District Nine Male.


They don't understand how hard it's going to be. I know about it, I understand it, but living with the possibility that half of your life could become pure blackness is difficult. Remy doesn't understand that, but then again, I've never told him. I wouldn't either. When my family knew, they each reacted differently. I can't do anything without my older sister, Lucina, watching me all hawk-eyed. Only this time, Remy can only watch me through a screen and hope I don't have a meltdown that'll cause me to vanish from my mind.

No, there's no point. I'll have to avoid bloodshed and traumatic events in order to stay on my toes. Otherwise, when I flash out, I might never come back.

"Are you not hungry?" I hear Remy ask. It's not for me, but Lyra. She's been refusing to eat now for two days.

"No thank you," she mumbles, holding her doll closer. "I just want to go home."

"Well you can't and pleading isn't going to change it," Nicolet says venomously. "Your name was called and you'll more than likely die."

"Nicolet-" Remy groans.

"No, I think it's about time they got it through their heads," she carries on. "This is real, the pair of you. The likelihood is that neither of you will return in anything but a coffin. Heck, if you're lucky, one of you might be the Victor," her eyes are piercing, dark, but everything she spits is the truth I've already accepted. "But to even allow that thought into your head, you need to focus. Knuckle down and try hard. Your life is gone, and you won't be getting it back if your yearning for it is the sole thought in your mind."

Lyra sniffs. I look at her, just as the tears roll down and the quivering lip takes hold. She stands up and rushes out of the room, broken.

"You could have said it a better way." Remy glares.

"Sugar-coating the truth now won't help them either." she deduces, going back to her meal.

I know everything Nicolet says is right. It doesn't hurt me, not really. I've grown to accept that my life can be controlled easily, whether by a corrupt government or an mental illness.

Remy forks the meat into his mouth. "So um..." he looks up at me and swallows. "Have you tried anything yet?"

"I've tried a lot of things," I counter. "New food, new company, new hobbies."

"I mean in weaponry, training, surviving the Hunger Games."

"Does anyone really survive the Hunger Games?" I deflect, something I've grown accustomed to.

"Hit the nail right on the head there," Nicolet comments. She's only one year older than me, but has been a Victor for four years now. Winning at a young age, you have to respect what she says. "To answer your endless riddles, no, no-one survives the Hunger Games but that's the entire point of them. Tell me about weapons, go."

I steel myself. "What's there to tell? They have an assortment and I'm having trouble narrowing it down."

"You're really something else," she smirks as she stands up. "But you might also be the most idiotic person I've ever seen die... and I've seen a lot die."

Nicolet briskly leaves the room. I don't even feel the cut of her words but I should, I should feel a hollow sensation in my chest, yet I don't. I've overcome many hardships in my life - with mountains of pressure on my shoulder - and I'll continue to do the same whilst detaching myself from emotions. By keeping emotions properly, I can fall into the Fugue state more easier and then, my life will really end.

The silence is tense. Remy opens his mouth every now and then, tongue ready to spill questions without answers, but stops himself each time.

"I'm going to room now." I stand up, and that gives Remy the encouragement to drop his fork.

"Allies?" he quickly asks. "Have you made an allies, or even planned to do so?"

"Who can call them allies when they'll have to die eventually? Allies will only cause further heartache."

And, with that, I walk to my room. Tomorrow is another day of training - my last chance to do something - and from there, I have to place all of my hope onto some higher being that I, Stefan Rui, will not be fooled into emotions when the stakes are higher.


Andora Seville, District Two Female.


I push the training uniform over my head and walk towards the mirror. Compared to most, I'm already up and dressed. Cres is far too lazy when it comes to morning and, if you pay close enough attention, you can hear him and Siryn battling it out on who can snore the loudest.

Looking in the mirror, my lips twist into disgust. It's hideous, but I won't complain, I just have higher standards than even the Capitol could provide.

It's one of the many reasons as to why I don't want to be with the Careers. Of course, I shouldn't even be here but Evander has some vendetta against me. I don't know, it's not like I go around and insult people like some of the females in my class do. I kept to myself and trained, so when the time came, I could leave and move on with my life. But no, he wanted me here, chose me as the candidate and made me train harder than I've ever done so before.

But the Careers... they're something else.

I carefully twirl and twist my hair into a cascading braid down on side, thoughts drifting to Lancel who, apparently, got away easy. Siryn laughed about that one far too obnoxiously.

"It's time to get up!" Lennox laughs. "Losers, losers, you need to move!"

Smiling, I apply some mediocre make-up and leave the room. It'll have to do; it's not like I have anyone to impress. Cres stares at me like a lost puppy, Austal is just a creep, Gloria seems to always be brooding and Lakyn... well, to put it bluntly, Lakyn is an imbecile. I don't want to interact with any of them because at the end of the day, I'm going to watch each of them die and claim the unwanted victory for myself because I didn't even want this.

Lennox is sat at the couches and instantly looks at me. "And the beauty of our beast is already here," he smirks before twitching. "Has Cres not moved quick enough?"

"I don't know." I deadpan, sitting at the table, as far away from the psychopath as possible.

"Someone isn't friendly in the morning." he bursts out laughing again. How could they let him live?

"Someone isn't friendly most of the time." I mutter under my breath, pouring the wheat and yoghurt into a bowl.

They just don't understand. It's all trivial and unnecessary, making friends and allies before entering a place where everyone needs to die. Even talking to the mentors isn't worth it because each of them had their own, successful ways, but it doesn't mean it'll work twice. Could have simply been a fluke.

Cres comes out next, but there's no sign of Siryn. He ignores Lennox's jeering as he takes the seat next to me.

"Have you seen what the other tributes can do?" he asks. "Our leader is waiting to know."

"Our leader?" I echo. "You mean to tell me, that Lakyn, has claimed leadership over us?"

Cres nods. "She quickly told us where to go and what to do. You should've been there, you could've said something."

I'm not one to speak out of turn. Sure, I'll blast it down in my head, but telling them is only going to cause trouble and frankly, people just aren't worth it most of the time. I nod, though, sensing Cres' constant eyes. "I'm sure it was entertaining. Gloria could have said something, though."

"Lakyn is too... in your face, for that to be possible." he sighs and begins eating his breakfast.

"You know, guys," Lennox speaks up. I stifle my groan but don't bother to turn around. I don't really care what he has to say. "If she's that much of a problem, you could always bloodbath her. Careers dying in the bloodbath is quite entertaining to the Capitol. Not to admit that it is hilarious when the mentor gets all pissy about it."

"T-Thanks..." Cres smiles sheepishly. "We'll take that into account."

But, Cres won't. I don't think he'd backstab anyone that early. He could always tell Gloria, I'm sure she could throw a knife or something at her discreetly. From watching on the sidelines, it's already clear to everyone but Lakyn that Gloria doesn't like her. If anyone should it, it should be her.

Me? I don't plan on killing them. I'd rather let them die by other means and wait carefully, in the shadows, until I can walk away and go home. Just go home where I wanted to stay in the first place.


Ampry Erfinder, District Three Female.


I move across the room swiftly, knowing where to go. I want to avoid people - Kristopher, in particular - and just focus on perfecting the image in my head. It all came to me last night after a discussion with Mercury. She's an intelligent woman and she knew exactly what I wanted to do, and in the end, she gave me tips on doing it the right way. Kristopher was sat nearby, but he didn't make it clear whether or not he heard us. He probably did; the boy is a complete idiot.

"Hi," I say to the woman behind the counter. She seems interested, but then she notices the number '3' on my sleeve and her grin falters. "I want a laser of some sort."

"Of course you do, District Three," she drawls, happiness gone. She turns around and shows me the collection on the wall. "Here you go. The hand-held ones are the only ones we're permitting in the arena. The larger ones," she points to a huge one that looks more like a gun the Peacekeepers carry. "Are simply for lining up aim when using the archery station or throwing the knives. They aren't exactly weapons."

"I don't want it as a weapon," I brush her comments away. "I just want a laser that shines a bright, red light."

"They all do that, hon."

"Well then, you've just answered your own question, haven't you?" I smirk. She grumbles under her breath, something about being obnoxious, as she takes off a tiny, little metal object and hands me it. "Thank you."

"It was a pleasure." she smiles sickly sweet as I walk away.

With this, it'd be perfect. It's something that'll depend on the type of arena, but according to the notes I gave Mercury, she determined that it'd be indoors. That's what I need in order for this to work. If I haven't got that arena... then screw it, the Gamemakers are reading my mind or something. Or hate me for causing a fight during the Reapings, which, to be fair, I didn't even start nor engage in.

I move hastily across the floor towards the knives section, and when I arrive, I take the largest, curved one I can find.

With the laser, I'll blind them enough to charge forward and stab a major artery. I'll be looking to kill in one swift motion, just to avoid unneccessary injuries and mental damage. This will be something that no other tribute has used before; Mercury complimented my genius and I smiled, nodding along because I knew it already.

"Hey Amp," I groan. I turn to Kristopher's voice, seeing his bright ginger hair. "A laser? How... hipster of you."

I glare at him. "Don't you have some jokes to make somewhere else?"

"I'm never going to forget that lightbulb joke," he smirks. "Because, a lightbulb is turned on a by a switch, and you're my switch, Ampry." he adds with a wink.

"You just... oh, god, just go away Kris, I'm trying to do something important," I shield the laser from his eyes, but he cranes his neck annoyingly. "Kris! Go away right now!"

"I guess that being allies is off the table, no?" but, instead of answering, I spin him around and begin to push him away. He laughs heartedly, thinking I'm only playing. "Okay, see you later!"

When he's finally walking on his own, I scurry over towards the dummies in the far corner. For some reason, this area is empty. Each dummy is perfectly full and round, even the trainers aren't looking with careful eyes. It's the perfect testing grounds. I pull the laser forth and examine it. Finding the little button, I flick it up and watch the red line shine bright with a grin. Time to test it out. I move the light towards the dummy's face and then his eyes. Imagining the scenario in my head, I lunge forward and plant the knife in the soft chest. But, rather than seeing red cotton float to the floor, it's white. Not a killing point. I reexamine the attack and learn my mistake - I went too far to the left, missing the heart. Stupid, Ampry!

"Focus, Ampry." I encourage myself and repeat the process on the dummy to the right.

Practise makes perfect, and in this case, an easy kill and a smoother road to victory.


Bryony Dubois, District Eight Female.


"Hey cutie," I smile down at the District Ten girl, who looks up with alarmed eyes. "You looked lonely," I frown. "Did you want some company?"

"Um. You're okay, thank you," she offers. "I like being on my own. It's better that way."

I sit down, unable to stop frowning harder. "Why would you say that?" I ask. "Being on your own is never better. Surrounding yourself with friends and loved ones makes everything... easier to cope with."

She bites on her bottom lip, but doesn't respond. I can only take that as a good sign and cross my legs properly. I watch her intently as she moves the pieces carefully. The trainer, nearby, says a few words of encouragement as she puts the machine together. I don't even know what it is, but it looks all pretty and shiny. I don't want to interrupt her, but her words have left me feeling odd. It's upsetting, someone so young and fresh feeling the way she said.

When she finishes, she looks up. The trainer shakes his head and she sighs.

"I think you did really well," I comfort her as she stands up. "Look, I don't know your name, but I'm Bryony."

"Asya." she responds softly.

I stand up and realise how much I tower over her. She's so cute, wide-eyed and bright cheeks, watching me out of curiosity. "I suffer from a condition," I offer her. "Come with me?"

She's hesitant, though. "I'd rather not."

I take her hand though, and little Asya seems even more frightened, like a little rabbit in headlights. What's so wrong? I go to lead her away, when I somehow hit a small crack in the flooring. Asya instantly lets go and I fall to the floor with a thud, the wind knocked from my throat. Quickly, I laugh it off, but Asya's eyes are still looking at me. It's only then that I realise that my top has lifted up, revealing my stomach and the dozen, ghostly lines that mar it.

I tug it down consciously and stand up, feeling the heat smother my face. "Sorry about that," I mutter. "I just wanted to show you my allies, Joshua and Rafe. They play music!" I quickly chirp, hoping she'll forget it easily enough.

I can tell she feels guilty. It's in her eyes, swimming around. She sighs and allows me to take her hand one more time. I lead her across the busy room, dodging the groups in their clusters. As we scoot pass the knife-throwing section and the wicked girl from District Four, I notice the little girl from District Nine. Maybe she needs an alliance too!

Asya's grip tightens as we detour towards her, a ragged doll locked under her arm. She doesn't even notice me coming and when I tap her on the shoulder politely, she jumps out of her skin.

"I'm sorry!" I quickly apologise.

Her eyes narrow and she collects her abandoned doll on the floor. "It's okay," she mutters. "Can you leave me alone, please."

The words die on my tongue and it takes a moment to remember why I'm here. "But... but you looked lonely and we're willing to have as many allies as possible in our motley crew!"

"That will not work out," she recites in a small, frail tone, like she's much younger than she is. "Too many allies means that someone is more likely to die. Not to mention that, eventually, someone will have to kill the other."

Asya's grip is still deathly on mine but I continue to look at the strange girl with bewilderment. She's so young, fragile... I doubt she can go in it alone! It's absurd! But, with her doll tucked under her arm, the little girl walks away with a second glance at me nor Asya. I guess she's not a sociable person. It's sad; we could have made quite the team.

"Oh! I almost forgot!" it hits me and I yank Asya with me, completely forgetting that she's still slightly unwilling. Joshua and Rafe will confirm it all for me and settle Asya's obvious distrust and unease.

It'll be great; we're going to have so much fun!


Wayne Fallows, District Ten Male.


What's the point? There is none. My efforts today - like yesterday and the day before - won't matter because, according to Macaulay and his insightful ways, the private sessions tomorrow will set me up with the sponsors I need and a better chance. Everything else is pointless and giving away my tricks; that's Kristopher's little note he gave me, not long after he somehow conned me into being his ally.

Kristopher picks up the knife and flashes it to the light. "You'd think they'd make it, you know, not shiny," he looks at me. "How are you expected to kill someone when light could give you away?"

"Considering knives aren't solely for the arena, I believe they're shiny so you don't stab yourself. And, it's metal, of course it's going to be shiny." I smirk.

"Stop being a smartass," he teases. "I'm the joker of our group, you're suppose to be the lazy one."

"I'm not that lazy." I argue.

"You kinda are," he turns around. "I mean, you won't stab a dummy because it's obviously too much effort."

"You told me to hide my tricks, and I'm doing that. Besides, I think I'm coming down with something. Whooping cough, perhaps."

"Don't use my words to cover up your poor excuses."

"I'm not making an excuse," I fake a cough. "See? I could be seriously ill and you're tormenting me. Whose the better person now?"

He smirks. "Still me, because I'm not lying through my teeth."

Silence fills the air as I quickly try and find something to retaliate with. Instead, I'm left with dust. "You're a dick."

"What can I say," Kristopher responds arrogantly. "I happen to be witty," he places the knife back on the table and steps back. "Where'd you want to go? Oh, stupid question, you'd rather sleep on the gauntlet's mats."

I narrow my eyes. "Why don't you choose and I'll show you that I'm capable."

Kristopher smirks, the challenge now in the air. He quickly claims it as he points towards a station in the far corner, where the "special" weapons are contained. "I believe our battleground is located over there."

Without a second thought, I walk towards it and Kristopher trails. I'll prove him wrong. Sure, I might be lazy, but actually calling me out on it is rather rude. He cannot think what he likes because I don't want to be known as lazy; I want to be usual and show him that, as much as he doesn't like it, I'm his equal. He's not even that arrogant but he constantly uses the word and it's grating, after a while. With each step, I urge myself to show him everything.

"What do you want me to use?" I ask, but Kristopher steps around me and approaches the trainer.

"Can we have... some shears, please," Kris asks politely. As the man disappears under the counter, he turns to me. "You know, I'm not trying to make you feel stupid or anything."

"You just think I'm lazy."

"You're the one who said it yesterday," he smirks. "Look, you don't have to prove yourself to me. I asked you for an alliance because you seemed like a decent guy."

The trainer pops up and hands me the funny scissors. "Yeah, well, I'm still going to do it." I say to Kristopher, before walking towards the cotton mannequin.

It's not that it'll be hard, but I just don't see the point in all of this. Anything. I'm more than likely going to die, and the same goes for Kristopher. You need to be extra special and stand-outish in order to be favoured that spot. I mean, last year with the little runt and his poison, he was something else and, because of that, he was more safe. What can I bring?... my attitude and charming personality won't be good enough.

I take aim. I pull the shears back over my head and launch them into the mannequin's "heart", effectively drawing out red cotton that floats to the floor like the sheep in my district when shearing season was about. It makes me nostalgic, but I push the thoughts down into my mind and take another swing. Kristopher will never be able to tell. I turn around, gaining a thumbs up from my ally.

I doubt that we'd be able to survive. But, if Kristopher wants to be optimistic, I'm not about to be a douche and wreck it all with my negativity. I might be lazy, but I'm hardly horrible.


Caritta Husk, District Eleven Female.


This is just peachy. I glance back at the clock, reminding me that I have about twenty minutes to find an ally, otherwise I haven't got one... and there is no way I'm entering that arena without an ally. That District Seven girl, Rotem, I thought she was cool because she looked pretty and decent, but turns out, she's just another freak like the rest of them. I mean, seriously, each tribute seems messed up in their own way.

The Careers females are a no go. The girl from District Three, well, she's just a loner and a nerd rolled into one. District Six seems to flighty and creepy, and District Eight is just weird to look at; that isn't going to win me any sponsors now, is it?

I need someone pretty. I need someone cool, calculating and a total bitch. I need someone like me.

The District Nine girl - still carrying the pointless doll - brushes up next to me. I look at her, remembering that time in school where all the cool kids were looking at me, judging me, and I needed to show them that I was deserving to be in their clique.

"Can you move please?" I scowl, still facing forward at the station. "Your weirdness is making it harder to breathe."

"Okay..." she mutters, and then, she walks away.

"Wasn't that lovely of you."

My head snaps around. The District Five girl stands there, her big, pouty lips smirking. "Yeah, well, I don't want little kids to be near me, thinking I'm some babysitter or something."

"I see," she nods. "Couldn't you have just asked her to move in a more polite way?"

"You wasn't the one she was ogling at." I defend.

"Your life must really suck if you need to put others down with pathetic banter," she challenges. What? My eyebrows arch, heat rising in my body. "It's much more rewarding and shows you off in a better light if you use intellectual words and pronouns."

"She's, what, twelve? Doubt she'd know what I was talking about if I decided to spew rubbish."

Her puffy lips are still curled into that smile. "I'm Ellery," she declares, as if she's something important. Then, it hits me. This is the bitch I was looking for. She reminds me of Jasmine, the most popular girl in my school who I both envied, admired and hated. "What's your name?"

"Caritta. Caritta Husk," I cross my arms. "Ellery, so like celery."

"Caritta, thus like a carrot."

I chuckle. "This was definitely destiny."

"I wouldn't believe in something so pompous, but yes, if you want to believe that," she holds out her hand. "I guess that means allies, right?"

She wants to be allies with me? This is even better. Ellery has done all the work and came for me, rather than the other way around. It makes things easier and I can feel the pride swelling in my chest. I clasp her hand and give it a firm shake, much like Daddy when he confirmed a huge deal back in his office. It makes me wonder, though, if that girl got punished or not... she should've known better. Oh well, Daddy will deal with her.

"If we must," I answer, shrugging nonchalantly, even though inside, I'm happy. "What can you actually do?" I question. "I mean, alliances are great and all, but you need some skills otherwise this-" I point between us. "-this is pointless."

She laughs dryly. "I can utilize a knife. I think that will do when coming to kill someone. And, yourself?"

"Machete," I reply, like it's no big deal. Ellery's eyes widen slightly in surprise and I have to fight the smile from painting on my lips. "Which, if I'm correct, is much better than a knife."

"My weapon is both light and easy to handle," she counters. "But, believe what you may."

We stand around for a while before I decide to prove my worth. I take the machete from the table and proceed to hack away at one of the dummies. Ellery watches with uninterested eyes, and feeling everything slip away through my fingers, I throw the damn weapon, splitting the white forehead open with a wicked slice. Ellery claps in slow motion, as if she's being sarcastic which she better not be doing.

"It was... average, at best. But you have potential and I think this alliance isn't as pointless as you believe."

Before I'm able to respond, the bell goes off and tributes begin to file into the canteen. Ellery politely waits for me, but rather than walking at her side, she takes the lead and guides me through the motions of collecting my food and taking a seat. As I sit down on the metal bench, I realise that rather than sitting on my join, I'm sitting at the cool table.

I can't stop smiling as I eat my food.


Lucia Bailen, District Twelve Female.


"Micah, please come out," I knock for what seems to be the umpteenth time, but to no avail. "I'm so sorry Micah, but the more the merrier, right?"

"I didn't even want an alliance!" he shouts back. Well, if he didn't want one, then why is he reacting like this?

"Cliff is a really nice guy! I think he'll be great with us in the arena."

There's some movement, a shuffle of some sorts, before the bolt is released and the door opens just a crack. Micah's petrified face peaks through, eyes ablaze. "You pushed me into an alliance with you and then you brought Cliff in without discussing me. He might not like or trust me, Lucy! Don't you see?"

"No, I don't," I frown. "Cliff wanted some allies. He knew all about you, and if he didn't like or trust you, do you think he'd ask to join?"

"It could all be a ploy," his lips are pressed into a line; he's serious. "He could be doing this to split us up and then... and then, he might, he might betray us!"

I swallow thickly and switch my footing awkwardly. "I think you're acting a little irrational," I supply in a small voice, treading carefully. "Please, just talk to Cliff? When he approached you today, you just walked away."

"That's because you made the alliance with him yesterday and chose not to tell me. You had the time last night. Why didn't you then?"

"Because I knew you'd react like this!"

"Then why are you bothering!" he shouts, slamming the door and returning the bolt to the lock.

I sigh, scratching the back of my neck. I don't know what to do. Me and Micah, we're suppose to be allies because we're good friends, but Cliff is charming and sweet and really, he's probably a lot more stronger and capable than Micah is. We need more stability because me and Micah, we don't bring that together. I want to be positive about this, but I just don't know how long Micah will hold the grudge. I hope it's not long - I want things to be okay before we reach the arena. I want him and Cliff to be laughing and smiling, just like brothers.

I only wanted to increase our chances by accepting Cliff.

I turn around and walk down to my bedroom, but Crispin is quick to notice, walking from his. "Everything okay?" he asks. "Micah wasn't at dinner, so I didn't know..."

"He's um, he's okay," I force a smile. Crispin's eyebrows furrow. "Honestly. He's just... it's hit him hard, I think. We got a new ally, you see."

"Oh really?" he smiles. "Who else?"

"Cliff. He's the District Five male," I nod along and Crispin's smile grows. "Thing is... I did it yesterday and never told Micah until today."

"I see," Crispin frowns. "I'm sure Micah will get over it. But remember, Lucy, that district partners trump allies most of the time. Micah is... fragile, and when you asked him for an ally, he was probably really happy about it. No-one should be the leader; that's where the Careers go wrong most of the time."

As Crispin walks past me, he lays his hand on my shoulder for a brief second. I guess Cliff will just have to bring Micah around; no matter what I say, he's going to feel betrayed. I sigh again, feeling like I've disappointed myself. I try to be so peppy and helpful and I think I've made it much worse.

We haven't even reached the arena and everything is crumbling through my fingers. I'll try and make it all work. I'll be the leader and the rock. I need Cliff, I need Micah, and I need them to like each other for everything to be okay. I was wrong, but I can make it right again.


Warrior by Disturbed.


The blog for this story is lost hunger games . blogspot - all deaths will be notified here!

All deaths will be based on realism, story arcs and whether or not the submitter is reading the story. Obviously, reviews let me know this, and if said submitter chooses to not review, I have no idea if they're reading the story, and therefore, am more inclined to keep other tributes over said submitter's tribute. Each decision is painstakingly hard but must be done. Everyone knew the odds when they created a character. I would hope you stick around, but if not, I understand.


I would love for you to answer a specific question I have for each chapter!

Thoughts on these twelve tributes, and which ones are your early favourites (obviously it will change, just from this glance)?

Favourite alliance thus far?

Overall favourite tributes from all twenty-four?

And, of course, a general review on my writing? It's invaluable!


Okay, so, the alliances are: the Careers without Lancel. Rafe, Joshua, Bryony and Asya. Lancel, Thorn and Rotem. Jericho and Arietta. Kristopher and Wayne. Cliff, Lucia and Micah. Ellery and Caritta. And, for loners, we have Lyra, Stefan and Ampry. Some are still technically unconfirmed in the sense that it hasn't been written... so if it's on the blog, it will happen, whether you've seen it happen or not. For instance, Jericho and Arietta isn't confirmed.

I don't do well in the Capitol. It's hard to weave plots and everything here...

Also, there is a poll on my profile! It's just asking for your top five favourite tributes. It may affect my choice on the bloodbath and it may not. All depends on other variables.

Lastly, I've started the Collection of the Damned one-shots. It's not necessary to know about my other stories, but it'll give the pictures on the blog some more life :)