Author's Note: Thank you to all my reviewers and everyone who has submitted a tribute! I can't wait to write about each of them, every single one has been excellent so far. I've updated the tribute list with the new tributes, for anyone who's interested! Also, sorry this chapter took so long? I was about halfway through writing it, when my computer froze. Of course I hadn't saved recently! It made me so grumpy I put off rewriting what I'd lost for a while. Anyway! Enjoy!

District 3 Reaping

Coil Brennan was hunched over the kitchen table, which he had claimed as his workspace. His mother was attempting to serve breakfast around his project, sighing in exasperation as the four other children clamored for their food. "Coil, can't you take that somewhere else?" She snapped at her oldest, picking up the youngest of the five and bouncing him on her hip. As the baby continued to cry, she thrust the infant at Coil and said, "if you're not going to eat, at least take care of Circ."

The fifteen year old boy accepted his baby sister without a second glance, not even looking up from her work. He jiggled his leg anxiously while pushing his glasses an inch further up his nose. "But mom, I'm almost done with this board! When I'm done it'll be so – I mean – it's going to –" Mid-sentence, he dropped off, and resumed his intense staring at the components in front of him. His baby sister, Circ, began teetering dangerously on his knee as Coil bent closer to his work, and his mother had to swoop in and rescue the baby before she tipped over entirely.

"Coil! Pay attention!" His mother snapped. She rubbed her fingers on her temples – the stress of raising her five children seemed never ending. Coil was, on his best days, distant and inattentive. On his worst days, he was so absorbed he was borderline incoherent. Her second born, Copper, was a slightly more articulate but just as easily distracted. The twins, Clip and Chip, were too young to be any help around the house, and little Circ was only a few months old.

Her son was so focused on his work, she couldn't even convince him to eat his breakfast. After positioning the other four with their respective bowls of porridge, she tried to coax her son into another brief conversation. "Coil, don't forget. I need you to take your brother to the Reaping today." Coil jerked his head up, his ashy blond hair falling into his eyes as he stared vacantly at his mother. She recognized the look on his face at once, and tried to keep from sighing in exasperation. For being brilliant, he couldn't remember simple instructions most of the time. "Remember? Your father is busy, and I have to take care of Circ and the twins?"

A small sign of recognition flitted across his face before he buried himself in his tinkering. "Oh, right – I mean – the Hunger Games – I guess – it is that time –" He lapsed back into silence after a few stumbled words, grappling for his wire cutters like a blind man searching desperately for a handhold. Baby Circ paused in her favorite meal activity of smearing her porridge all over her face to coo at her older brother, who barely noticed the noise.

Coil's mother couldn't help but feel like her son only really knew who he was when he was working. His inventions, his tinkering consumed every part of his personality. Without wire strippers or a spool of copper wire in his hand, Coil was reduced to something like a very small child. His mother shook her head slightly at her soon (although, with his eyes focused on his work, he was oblivious to her observation). They had the same dark brown eyes, a fact that his mother often used to remind herself that he was, in fact, her child, despite having his father's personality.

Leaning over the table to wipe off her youngest child's face, the older woman smiled at the sight of her family gathered around the table, bickering and talking and trying to pour porridge in each other's hair. She tried to store up good memories such as this one, for the times when everything seemed hopeless. "Coil, why don't you tell me what you're working on?" She said with a smile, in an attempt to draw out her eldest from his uncomfortable shell.

Immediately animated, he launched into an explanation of what appeared to be nothing more than a tangled mess of wires. "See, it's going to be great! The purpose of this device is to create a high frequency pitch that animals can hear but humans can't. The range won't be large enough to annoy the neighbor's dog, but it'll be good enough to protect the rats from getting into our food, I think. If we set it up in the pantry, and press this button here, the range should cover the entire house, assuming we set this lever to be in the full position…" As the rambling speech continued, his mother couldn't help but smile wider at the brightness in her son's eyes.

"Matrix! Come downstairs right this instant, it's time for breakfast!" Her mother's voice broke the thirteen year old out of here reverie. Trix Reed had been sitting in her room, staring out the window, and she hurtled down the stairs quickly before she missed her one chance at eating before the Reaping.

"Mom! Mom, there was a cloud out there that looked just like a horse! At least, I think it's what a horse looks like, that's what horses in my books look like anyway, and it's big and fluffy, and if you don't go upstairs right now you're gonna miss it Mom!" Her bright brown eyes sparkled as she grabbed at her mother's hand, and tried to take her towards the window. Her mother laughed at the antics of her daughter, and tried to avoid the trip to the window.

"After breakfast, little one! I promise, it will still be there after you've eaten something." Chances were good that Trix would have forgotten all about it before the meal was done. Trix was a unique child – plenty intelligent, sure, but the attention span of a goldfish. The poor girl could barely focus, and was usually so excitable that she came across as spastic and peculiar. It was difficult to watch over her, though, the girl had a knack for getting into piles of trouble. Her mother smiled sadly at her youngest child.

"Come on, squirt! Eat your food," Vary, Trix's older brother, was poking at his baby sister to try and get her to focus. Trix would never have made it past elementary school without her older brother. He watched out for her, took care of her – acted like a parent that could watch over her while she was away from home. The two of them were incredibly close, considering their age difference. Vary was nearly seven years older than his younger sister, but they were so attached at the hip they might as well have been twins. They had the same honey blond hair and warm chocolate eyes, full of brightness and charm.

Finally, the little girl had eaten enough food that her mother and brother were satisfied. It was just the three of them, Trix's father had been consumed by an illness when she was just a child. Vary had stepped up as best he could for the family, but it made him even more protective of his sister than had he been able to grow up as just her brother. "Let's go upstairs and pick something out for you to wear today! Remember, you gotta look pretty for the cameras today," Vary commented, poking his sister in the ribs to get her out of her chair.

Scampering up the stairs like a mouse, Trix stopped at the top and bounced on the balls of her feet. Vary slowly climbed up after her, and she chattered to him the entire way. "The other day at school, we were learning bout math! Did you know that I'm named after math? That's pretty cool right, being named after something as well known as math? That means that practically everyone knows my name! Can you believe that? All the districts, and the Capitol, and everyone knows my name! It's like being famous?" Her sharp brown eyes were open as wide as plates as she stared at her brother. He couldn't help but smile at her enthusiasm as they walked to her room.

"Come on, you little runt! We're gonna be late if you keep this up," Vary complained halfheartedly to his sister, who was perusing her closet with the air of someone who just was too fascinated by everything. She finally settled on a simple white dress with yellow sunflowers printed across it, making her look younger and smaller than she actually was. After carefully braiding her hair back, she was finally ready for the Reaping, and Vary took her hand and left the house. He had been trying to push the nerves back all morning – today was another day when his baby sister could be taken away. His throat and chest tightened at the very idea, and he gripped her hand tighter in a moment of panic. Trix glanced at him curiously, but he simply looked at her with a faint smile, and continued her stream of dialogue as they left for the town square.

The escort for District 3 was a rather subdued man, by Capitol standards. The man was in his forties, with the beginnings of slight wrinkles forming around his eyes. As he took the stage, waiting for the children to file into their respective spots, he stepped over to speak to this year's mentors. When he spoke, his voice was quiet and reserved, like listening to velvet. "Good morning, Venn, Lectric. How has your year been?"

The male mentor, Venn, was one of the older victors. He had won at the age of 16, but that was many yeas ago. By now, he was practically a fixture in the Hunger Games, as much a part of the games as the Cornucopia itself. His gray hair shot away from his head like a frizzled halo, and the crevices in his face gave him a bit of a crazed appearance. "Cress. It's nice to see you," he barked at the escort, while his female counterpart Lectric nodded to acknowledge the golden haired Capitol man.

Cress pulled up a chair and began to quietly converse with the two mentors. Of all the Districts, this one was by far his favorite. The intelligence, the creativity, and the ingenuity of these people was surpassed by no one else in Panem, Venn was one of his favorite victors in the District, the grizzly old man had quite a bark on him, and a reputation as an infamous strategist. Lectric was younger than her male counterpart, but shared the same quiet intelligent aura that radiated off Venn. She was on the quiet side, which played to her advantage in the Games. The Career pack had completely written her off as a bloodbath. So, that night, when they went hunting for tributes, no one expected her to salvage their leftovers into a deadly trap that took out half the pack in a single day. By the time they realized the quiet girl from District 3 was their true competitor, she had ripped them apart. Cress smiled at her, an expression that she hesitantly returned before relapsing into her thoughtful stare. This year's tributes certainly had a chance, with the talents of the two in front of him.

The mayor gestured him forward, and Cress stepped up to the microscope. The sun glittered off of his gold tuxedo, as he began the introductions. The crowd before him appeared to be paying mild attention to his speech, but most of them were bored, fidgety, and squinting in the sun. Coil stood in the crowd of fifteen year old boys, rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet, tearing absentmindedly at a fraying strong on the edge of his shirt when he suddenly realized everyone was staring at him. He blanched, putting the pieces together – although he'd missed the name, the only reason they would stare at him in this way would be because he was the tribute.

The blond haired boy began shaking like a leaf. It took nearly a minute for him to remember how to work his feet, and nervously scuffle towards the stairs. His eyes were open so wide, he was afraid they would pop out of his head. The stairs appeared before he was prepared, and stumbling on the first step, he tripped forwards and caught himself on his hands before his face could hit the stage. A gravely voice growled, "Up you go, youngin'," and Coil found himself staring up into the grizzled features of the male mentor. Before he could even realize what was happening, Coil found himself standing next to the escort.

After years of practice, Cress was perfectly able to conceal his pity, but deep down he felt that this poor, stumbling boy didn't have a chance in the world. Sure, many of the previous games had been won with intelligence, but a little bit of capability and strength made the process significantly less damaging. Turning his attention to the second ball, the escort snared a small piece of paper in between his slim fingers, and read in his even voice, "Matrix Reed."

A horrible cry erupted from the family's section before the girl could even move from her position in line. Peacekeepers held back her brother as Trix was forcefully lead towards the stage, fear creeping onto her features as she began to understand the journey she was about to make. Trix was good with numbers, and she knew that statistically, she had only one chance in twenty four of making this more than a one way trip. Her eyes flickered frantically from side to side, and she babbled nervously to the peacekeepers, to the escort, and to the boy standing near her, hoping that someone would take pity on her.

Cress obligingly asked for volunteers, but the square was silent other than the sound of harsh sobbing. With a sigh, Cress finished his remarks, then ushered the tributes into the Justice Building. Behind him, a voice shouted, "Don't take her somewhere I can't follow!"

The peacekeepers detained Vary for a few minutes before he was allowed to see his sister, minutes that he could never get back, and minutes that he resented them for taking away from him. Trix was curled into a small ball in the corner, sobbing so hard she had to pant for breath. Her mother stayed next to her, holding her hands as Vary rubbed her back, trying to soothe the round of hiccups that took the place of her tears. "It's going to be okay, I promise," he told his sister, his face grim. "I don't care how much money it costs, we're going to sponsor you, and give you everything you need. I'm still going to take care of you."

Their time together was far too short, and Trix was left alone too soon. Sniffing and rubbing her itching eyes, she didn't even have the energy to cry any longer. She had passed almost completely into shock – the idea that she could be dead in a few weeks was so ludicrous it seemed impossible. Besides, Vary's going to help, remember? He'll send me things, he'll look after me, the blond haired girl told herself, in an attempt to build confidence. A nagging thought broke through as she waited to be lead to the train, and tears began to well in her eyes again – what if he can't keep me safe?

Coil's mother sat alone in her kitchen for a moment after depositing her four other children into the second room just for a second of quiet. No parent should have to bury their child, and the realization that she might see her son next as a quiet, bloodless corpse in a simple wooden box had destroyed her spirit. Coil was so gentle, how could he ever kill twenty three other children? Even to survive, she wasn't sure that her son had that kind of viciousness inside of him. She had tried to be strong, the whole walk home from the Justice Building, tried to be the rock for her children. Here, alone, the sight of Coil's last project, his unfinished final invention, shattered her into a million different pieces.