I'm so sorry I haven't updated! I just haven't had any inspiration AT ALL! Some of the other tributes' perspectives will be working their way into the chapters as well, and I won't do each tribute's perspective every time. And sometimes the perspectives will not be in order of District, like they were previously. Review please?

Glimmer

I was still in awe of my claiming, not really paying attention to anything anyone said until Leeva exclaimed that we had another claiming. I looked up distractedly at the little cutie from District Eleven, who was tipping her head up to stare at the bundle of wheat that had appeared above her head. Psh. Lame. Nothing could top my claiming. Still, though, I felt uneasy about something, but I pushed it to the back of my mind again.

Marvel

"Is there a car dealership we can go to once we get to the Capitol?" I suddenly asked. All eyes turned to me, and I immediately clamped my mouth shut, wondering where the hell that question came from.

"Sorry," I said quickly. "I don't know why I said that."

"No, no, it's totally fine," Leeva said, smiling at me. "I think I might have a feeling of why you said that. Here. Put these on, and tell me what you think."

She handed me a pair of black and white shades, and beckoned for me to try them on. I slipped them on, and even though they were just a normal pair of sunglasses, I felt an overwhelming feeling of coolness inside me and I blurted, "SWEET!"

Leeva smile and nodded. "I thought so," she said, pointing above my head.

My eyes went up, along with the rest of the tributes', to the top of my head, where floating above my head, was a sun, one of Apollo's symbols.

The coolness feeling quickly faded away as a frown made its way onto my face, and I muttered, "Fabulous."

Clove

Ugh, three tributes claimed in ten minutes? Seriously, gods, give us some time to think!

I was pretty sure I'm the Victor for this year, seeing as I already have two parents, well, I used to have two, and there's no way that I'm not related to them, because I'm like a little clone of both of them. So they need to get on with all of this claiming crap, get to the filming, erase my brain, and then send me back home. Seriously. I won't be able to stand these people for another ten minutes, much less a month. Let's get this show on the road.

Thankfully they tied my hands behind my back, and not in the front, so I was easily able to slip my small knife they hadn't taken yet out of my back pocket and quietly began sawing through the ropes that bound my hands. Once they were free I discreetly peeled the piece of tape off my mouth, stood up and said,

"Excuh-yoose me, Leeva, this is all very interesting and such, but why don't you tell this conductor or whoever to hurry this train along to the Capitol and start filming, and then you can tell the rest of the lectures to the demigods while I'm on the train back to District Two and my brand new house in the Victor's Village. Kay?"

"Who says you're the Victor?" the boy from Twelve said, standing up.

"I have two parents. It's not hard to figure out, miner."

District Twelve clenched his fists. "I am not a miner," he spat.

"Scuse me?" said the girl from Twelve. "My dad was a miner!"

"You're such an idiot," I said to her. "Your dad's a god. Unless you live with him, which I'm assuming not, since you said he was a miner."

I looked up at Leeva. "When we start filming, can I kill her?"

"Alright, settle down!" Leeva said, chuckling.

The three of us looked at her in annoyance. She sighed. "Clove, Katniss, Peeta-"

"Pita?" I laughed. "Who are your parents, Wheat and Whole Grain?"

"Peeta, with two e's," he growled. "And who are yours, Clove, Cinnamon and Paprika?"

"You fucking-" I started, drawing my knife.

"Alright, enough already!" Leeva yelled. She turned to two Avoxes standing in the corner. "Elle, please quiet Katniss and Peeta for me." A petite blonde stepped forward with a roll of packing tape. "And Minette," she said, looking at the muscular brunette, "take Clove's knife away and tie her back up." Minette started walking towards me, a slightly cocky grin on his face. I don't know why he was acting superior to me. He's the one with no tongue.

Melody (District 4)

The boy from District One-Marvel, I'd heard him called-didn't seem very happy about his claiming, though I wasn't exactly sure why. He should be lucky that his parent actually cared enough to claim him before we got to camp.

After what Leeva said about Poseidon favoring District Four, I was pretty sure he was my father, but I still wanted that reassurance, that feeling of security and love that seemed to radiate from the tributes that had been claimed already…except Marvel, of course.

Already I was very confused, but then that Clove girl started ranting and now I'm terribly confused. I remembered her-I saw her on some District Two killing contest thing that aired a couple of years ago. I really don't know why they aired it, exactly, because the districts weren't supposed to have close contact with each other in case of the start of a rebellion. And the kids didn't actually kill people, but animals. I don't know why they acted like that was any better; killing animals was still just as horrible. I sighed to myself then. I don't know why I was keeping up this sympathy charade; feeling bad for animals was something I did just to humor my tree-hugging friends. I guess I could give up that habit now, it's not like I'd ever see them again.

I sighed again. As much as I was excited for camp, I was still very nervous about leaving my mother by herself. I was an only child, my mother being a quiet, gentle woman who was too kind to have anything bad happen to her. She'd been alone with me all her life, telling me the story that my father had left just as she found out she was pregnant, came back to see me born, and then left again. I wasn't angry at him or held a grudge like a lot of kids would, because I figured he would only leave my mother and me if there was something more important than us he had to take care of. Thinking that he had something more important to him than me was a little saddening, but it mostly made me proud that my father wasn't afraid to take care of the people and things he loved.

"Melody?" Leeva interrupted my thinking. "Are you still with us?"

I must have been staring into space again. For some reason whenever someone was talking to me about something I actually cared about, I got sidetracked with a lesser topic drawn from their conversation, then toned them out altogether to think all about it.

"Uh, ya, I think so," I said.

"Fabulous," Leeva said. "Now, where were we?" she asked, tapping one unnaturally long pink fingernail against her chin. "Ah, yes, filming. Clove, I don't know about you being the Victor; you've got some Ares-like features. My guess is that he's your father."

"Mmmmm!" Clove protested.

I rolled my eyes. I really could not stand that girl. I do hope she's the Victor, just so I don't have to see her at camp.

"Wait," I said. "So you don't know who the Victor is yet? What happens if all of us have a godly parent? Then what?"

"That never happens," Leeva assured us. "On every slip of paper, there is a 'D' for demigod, and 'V' for Victor. When the escort grabs onto a slip of paper, they look to see if there's a D or V. If it's a V, and a different escort has already picked one, then this escort would just pick another slip of paper with a D on it. It's quite simple, really."

"So who's the Victor?" I asked impatiently.

"Well I couldn't tell you that, even if I did know! That would just take all of the fun out of everything!"

"How do you decide the order for which people die?" the boy from Ten asked.

"Our Head Gamemaker, Seneca Crane, will evaluate your scores in training and decide based on that. We'll have you train and get your scores so they can be aired, and then we'll go to camp for about a week so we know who's going to be the Victor, which will be the one of you who doesn't get claimed at the campfire. So Glimmer and Marvel, we know for sure you'll be "dying," because you've already been claimed, but since you're both Careers, you probably won't until near the end."

Leeva was interrupted by a man-I'm assuming the conductor- who said, "Excuse me, Leeva, but we have arrived."

Well, time to go meet the Capitol.

Cosette (Foxface)

I was in total awe when we stepped out of the train and into a hovercraft that flew us across the whole Capitol, exposing the beautiful land. It was nothing like District Five, I'll tell you that. Even from the sky, I could see billboards advertising products such as 'Aphrodite's Love Potion' and 'Fertilizer approved by Demeter.'

I sighed. It seemed as though a lot of the tributes could already guess who their parent was, based on their district. I, however, had absolutely no idea who my father could be; I desperately wanted to know.

I assumed my mother would be coming to live with Gavroche and me, considering that there were no other children in my immediate family, except for all of my cousins on my mother's side, though I was sure they weren't demigods; they lived with both of their parents and looked exactly like both of them.

The nose of the hovercraft started to tilt down, aiming for the roof of a tall grey building.

"Okay, everybody!" Leeva said, clapping her hands. "Make sure you grab all your stuff before we head out!"

Right. Like we had any stuff with us.

My district partner, Javert, caught up with me as we walked onto the roof of the building towards the door.

"So what do you think, Cosette?" he asked me. "Know who your parent is?"

"Not a clue," I answered him. "What about you?"

"Nope. I was thinking, though, maybe that Apollo guy Marvel got would be pretty cool, you know, he's all medical and likes cars and stuff? I hope I get him."

Just as he said that, a small staff with two snakes wrapped around it appeared over his head.

"Ah, Javert wields the Caduceus!" Leeva cried happily. "That means your father is Hermes, god of thieves, messenger of the gods. Hello, brother!"

Leeva walked over and gave Javert a hug. He hugged halfheartedly back.

Leeva straightened. "Okay, everyone, if you have been claimed, there is a special floor for your specific parent. You will be showed to your room by one of the Avoxes. If you have not been claimed, you will live on the floor designated for you district, where you will also be guided to by an Avox."

"Well, see you later," Javert said, walking towards the claimed group.

"Congratulations on your claiming!" I called after him, receiving a grin and a thumbs up in return.

Jeremy (District 10)

I wasso glad there were not any Hunger Games. With my limp, I'd be mowed down in an instant. I hadn't always had a limp. Seeing as my father wasn't going to make another appearance, my mother remarried a few years after I was born. Her husband was alright, always trying to make me feel like I was one of his own. With her new husband, my mother had five children, two of them twins, and one day when I was about six, her husband took me to work with him to show me the ropes for when I was old enough to start working with the cattle. He first took me to the corral of a lone bull who we were about to feed. As we entered the bull's corral, it charged my stepfather and trampled him, leaving him dead. I jumped out of the way just in time, leaving only my left leg to be crushed by the bull's powerful hooves. The doctors said that there was only so much they could do for my leg, that it would always be lame after the accident.

After losing two husbands in a row, my mother was too depressed to get remarried again or go back to work, so for the last seven years I've been working in the stables like my stepfather and bringing home the only income of the family for all the food and necessities we needed.

When I was first reaped, I didn't automatically think of my limp giving me a disadvantage; I thought about who would provide the money needed to feed the family. The oldest of the five children, my half-brother Henry, was ten years old, definitely old enough to work in the stables, but I hadn't taken him yet; he was still at home helping my mother with the younger children. Even the next child, eight year old Bessie, was old enough to find work at the stables, perhaps helping with the milking. I trust that one of the men that worked with me would take them and show them around.

"Jeremy?" a quiet voice behind me said.

I turned around to find Paige, my district partner, standing behind me. Paige and I weren't close friends, but not total strangers, either. She was in a few of my classes at school, and occasionally we had conversations about homework or teachers or something, but other than that, nothing. Her family wasn't poor, but not entirely well off either. I knew her father and older brother from the stables, and sometimes her mother and sister would come to visit my mother.

"Oh, hi, Paige," I said, not sure of how I should sound.

"So, what do you think of all this?" she asked shyly.

"I'm still trying to take it all in," I replied truthfully.

Paige answered with a nod. I noticed she was nervously biting her nails to stubs.

"What are you worried about?" I asked carefully.

"Everything," she said quietly, not looking at me.

"Why?" I asked. "I don't understand. The Games are fake and we're going to live. What's wrong with that?"

"I just-" she shook her head, causing her chin length dirty blonde hair to wave back and forth against her jawline. "I think I'll be the Victor, because I already have two parents, and my brother or sister never were reaped, and I'm just not ready to have all of those terrible moments in my head." She shuddered.

"I don't think anyone is," I said, shaking my head. "So you really don't think you'll be the Victor? A lot of people here live with their parents. Could you be adopted?"

The thought seemed to have not struck Paige before then. "I…" she trailed off with a horrified expression on her face. "I guess I never thought of that. I don't know, I just can't picture my parents keeping a secret like that from me. If that's true, I feel like that since I don't kow who my real parents are, maybe…I don't belong anywhere."

"Maybe that's why they never told you," I pointed out.

Paige shrugged her shoulders glumly. "Maybe," she said softly.

"Well, hey, don't let it get you down!" I said. "You could very well be the Victor; no one really knows that!"

"Jeremy, Paige, are you coming?" Leeva interrupted us. "There'll be time for chit-chat later! Right now we have a tight schedule to keep!"

Rue

"Th-thank you…" I murmured as the Avox who had shown me to my room shut the door quietly. I sat on the large bed and looked around at the giant room I had been given. Between the spring green walls, the sunset orange comforter, and the random accents of flowers around the room really gave it a feel for Demeter. I sighed and rolled onto my back, staring at the ceiling.

I didn't know how I was going to be able to do it.

Without my father, siblings, or friends at work, I was sure to go mad. Of course I would have siblings at camp, but I the rest of us didn't know them yet, and it's not like they'll give me the same comforting feeling as the six little ones at home. How was I going to go a day without hearing Ani's cheerful banter or my father's soft chuckle when we ran to hug him when he got home late from the fields? I sighed again. I hoped desperately that my mother would send something, some sign to show that she was watching me; that she cared.

"Rue, honey," came with a knock at my door. "It's time for dinner; meet us in the dining hall." I sat up and looked at the clock, not believing that an hour had passed already. I slowly got off the bed and walked out of my room.

Thresh

Stomping to the dining hall, I hoped that I was late enough for no one to notice me, but as I walked in al eyes were on me; apparently they had been waiting.

"Thresh, so kind of you to join us," Leeva said calmly. She had an unreadable expression on her face. "Dinner can now be served." She gestured towards two Avoxes, who brought carts full of plates brimming with steaming food and set one down before each of us.

On the plate was a mini rotisserie chicken, cooked and glazed with a reddish-brown sauce, steamed broccoli with puffs of steam still rolling off of it, and a heaping mound of fluffy mashed potatoes. Looking around, I saw most of the other tributes staring at their plates with the same surprised expressions as me, except the Career tributes, who seemed to find nothing our of the ordinary and began eating.

Leeva wiped her mouth with her napkin and started talking for the tenth time today. "While you're eating let me explain what will be happening in the next few days. Tomorrow you'll be performing for the Gamemakers a useful talent for the Hunger Games, and then we'll watch for your scores that evening. The next day we'll take you to camp where you'll be claimed at the campfire, and then the next day we'll take you back here and start filming!"

I rolled my eyes. Sounds like too much work. "How long do we have to film?" I asked.

Leeva shrugged. "It could be anywhere from a few days to a few weeks. It depends on how long the Gamemakers want the Games to go on."

"Can you make a request for them to go shorter?"

Leeva shot me a sharp look. "Gamemakers are respected, Thresh. They're choices for the Games will be accepted and executed well. Got it?"

"Whatever," I said, turning back to my food.

Marvel

The next morning as I was enjoying my wonderfully plush mattress in my ultra-cool room, a knock woke me up.

"Marvel!" Leeva sang perkily, though it could only be at least four in the morning, "It's time to get up and perform for the Gamemakers!" I groaned and flipped over onto my stomach, plugging my ears with my pillow.

After about two minutes of silence from both sides of the door, Leeva's voice turned steely. "I'm serious, Marvel. The Gamemakers are waiting, and they don't like to wait long. Get up."

"Alright!" I snapped, sitting up in bed and dressing plainly in sweats. "I'm coming."

Performing for the Gamemakers was a complete waste of my time. I'd gone in, returned their early-morning greeting, and threw spears at dummies for five minutes before they'd thanked and dismissed me. The one highlight, though, was getting to see the gorgeous blonde from my district waiting to go in after me. I had winked at her and offered some flirty advice to her before realizing that our parents were twins, making us cousins. I had to remember to ask what that meant for our future relationship.

Glimmer

The Gamemakers' sleepy expressions seemed to perk up a little bit when I walked into the training room. I kept my head high and shook my golden locks over my shoulders, listening to the internal voice that told me to flaunt my beauty and be proud of it.

I wasn't exactly sure what I was going to show the Gamemakers when I approached the pile of weapons, so I grabbed the first thing I saw-a bow and a quiver of arrows; I had never used one, but I saw tributes use them in past tapings of the Games, and it didn't look too terribly difficult. But when I started to pull the arrow back I hesitated, realizing how much I had underrated the weapon. Pulling back that string took muscle, way more than I had expected. Once I sent the arrow flying, I could even tell that I would miss. And miss I did. The arrow fell a few feet to the right of the target, missing it completely. I sneaked a peek at the Gamemakers, and saw that a few of them were whispering to each other and moving around in their seats.

Finally, listening to my Aphrodite instincts, I just set the bow down gently and smiled at the Gamemakers, letting my beauty take over. After a few minutes, the Head Gamemaker, by the looks of his long robe, shook his head and said, "Thank you very much Glimmer. You may leave now." Satisfied, I bounced out of the room, hearing more whispers behind me.

Cato

Striding confidently into the training room, I knew this was going to be a snap. As long as they had a good sword I was going to easily score a twelve.

"I'm Cato," I said bluntly, looking at the Gamemakers with an intimidating look on my face. "Can I have an assistant?"

One of the Gamemakers nodded. "Of course, Cato, by all means," he said, gesturing to a woman sitting off to the side, clad in training clothes with her brown hair held up in a ponytail.

"Hello, Cato," she said, shaking my hand. "I'm Atala, I help the Gamemakers give you your score."

"Great," I said. "You good with a sword?"

Atala snorted. "Of course I am. Just hand me anything and tell me what to do."

I tossed her a sword and she caught the butt of it without blinking an eye.

"Okay," I said. "Just a regular old disarming match, and we'll be done for today."

Atala sneered. "Let's do it."

I grabbed a sword off the rack, flipped it up, caught it, and slashed the air in front of me.

"Nice," Atala said, nodding. "But it'll take more to beat me!" She lunged, and I met her sword with mine so hard it made sparks fly. We clashed weapons for about thirty seconds, until I twisted the handle of my sword against hers and she lost her grip on it and let it fall cleanly into my hands. I flipped that one up and caught it with a sneer on my face.

"I'm impressed," Atala said, half-smiling.

"And I'm out." I threw the swords on the ground and walked out.

Clove

"Okay, let's get this over with," I said to myself before walking in to perform for the Gamemakers. I had to throw those knives perfectly. I had to hit the target every single time, no exceptions. I had to get a good score so when I got back home to District Two no one would think I was a loser who got nervous when performing. I had to do well.

Then I mentally shook myself. Why was I so nervous? I was a Career. I know knives better than anything. This would be easy.

As soon as Cato walked out I almost ran into the room, eager to show my skills. I walked right over to the knife throwing station without talking and selected a variety of knives and stuffed them in my jacket so they were easy to pull out.

I went to the line of targets and whipped a knife at the first one. I didn't look where it hit; I just went down the line, reaching into my jacket for a new knife each time one left my hand. As I threw my last one, I looked at the row of targets. Each one had a knife in its bulls-eye.

"Thank you," I said simply, and left.

Cosette (Foxface)

I stepped cautiously into the training room, unsure of what I was going to show the Gamemakers. I didn't have any special physical strengths, but earlier I saw stations with things that took more mental strength than physical, and I was trying to think of something I could do with edible plants and camouflage. As I paused in front of the Gamemakers, I noticed an empty-looking cloth bag next to a robed woman. That gave me an idea.

"Excuse me," I said quietly. "Would you mind if I borrowed that?" The woman looked up, surprised, and slowly held out the bag for me to take.

"Thank you," I said, hoping my politeness would help my score.

I walked over to the camouflage station and began mixing green and brown paint together, which came out as a sort of a muddy grass green. I spread the mixture first onto my arms and face, and smoothed the rest over the bag, making its white color less conspicuous. Then I looked over the edible plants station and picked out a few handfuls of greens that I were positive were edible. I got a canteen from the supplies pile and filled it with water from the small pond in the corner of the room reserved for catching fish. I got a knife and two thick pieces of rope and finished by cutting four tiny holes in the back of the bag and threading the pieces of rope through them, making a backpack. I put the greens, canteen, and knife in the bag and set it where the Gamemakers could see.

"There," I said softly. "You have a survival pack."

The Gamemakers were silent for a moment, some looking at me, some at the bag, and some at each other. Finally the bag's owner stood up and said, "Thank you very much, Cosette. You may go now."

"Thank you," I said, leaving.

Rue

"The scores are in!" Leeva sang as she stepped into the media room. At dinner she had told us to meet there, and wait for her until our training scores aired on TV. After dinner we had all shuffled in here, and mindlessly waited for her, some lounging on the couch flipping through channels while others, like me, sat cross-legged on the floor and barely talked.

We all turned towards the TV set while Leeva sat on the arm of the sofa and took the remote from Cato, who, eager to see the scores, quickly handed it over.

The Capitol seal flashed across the screen, and each of our pictures. The District One tributes, Marvel and Glimmer, were first. They were quite dazzling to everyone here; the Capitol attendants seemed to pay extra attention to them that to the other tributes. Marvel I didn't think about very much, but I longed to talk to Glimmer. She was so confident; the way she way I so wanted to be. I was quiet as I watched their scores come on-Marvel got an eight, Glimmer a nine.

"Oh, Glimmer!" Leeva exclaimed happily. "What did you do?"

Glimmer shrugged. "I just smiled at them." She said, her green eyes twinkling.

Next came District Two, Cato and Clove. I was a bit scared of them. Cato was leaned forward, his eyes glued to the screen, his hands balled into fists bouncing restlessly on his lap. "Come on, come on, come on," he murmured.

As Clove's number nine flashed across the screen, she sighed I relief, but when Cato's ten came on, a look of pure shock came across his face.

"A ten?" he said. "I got a ten?"

"Tens are wonderful, Cato!" Leeva encouraged. "They're very hard to get."

"I deserved a twelve," Cato murmured. "I disarmed that trainer so fast they should have crowned me Victor right then."

"You used an assistant?" Leeva questioned.

"Yeah," Cato said distractedly. "So?"

"That's probably why you didn't get a twelve. The Gamemakers want to see what you can do on your own, not what you can do when you have help."

"Well how else could I have shown them what I can do with a sword?" growled Cato before he angrily left the room.

When District Five's numbers came on, a look of true disbelief came across the girl's face when the screen showed an eight.

"Fabulous, Cosette!" Leeva crowed. "What did you show them?"

"I…I made a survival pack."

Leeva and some of the Career tributes looked at her questioningly, but they seemed to believe her, because they turned back towards the TV where the rest of the districts' numbers were coming up. When my number came up, I was pleasantly surprised to find that I had pulled a seven. I had shooting a slingshot while running through a maze of dummies would come off as unprepared and messy. I hoped my mother was proud of me.