Beloved Readers,

You may or may not of noticed the disaster I faced with trying to upload the reaping chapters for Autumn and Seraphine. Well, to repay you for your patience I've decided to give you a chapter; because you're all so amazing and deserve it :P

So meet Ruby, the first of our careers...

Ruby Ashford, District 1.

I can hear it in my head, the bang of the final canon; I can see the crimson blood staining my knife; I can taste victory: 'Panem, meet your Victor of the 62nd Annual Hunger Games: Ruby Ashford'. I am Ruby Ashford, and you may think I'm a dreamer but you couldn't be further from the truth. I am a realist for I will become Victor and no other pathetic excuse for a tribute will stop me.

I have waited my whole life to enter the games, to prove my worth. The games are not something to be feared as the lower, snivelling districts think; they are something to be celebrated; a thing of true beauty: like myself. How can people cry when they're reaped? It is an honour to enter the games, to represent your district and to be given the opportunity to kill without repercussions; it is a chance that I, personally, could never let pass. The arena, the weaponry, and the tactics: things I have dreamed of for years, and now I can make my dreams a reality.

Yesterday, oh it was the happiest day of my life to date, although I'm sure being named Victor and being showered in luxury will surpass it. Yesterday was the day that I, Ruby Ashford, won the honour of becoming the female tribute for district 1; and it was glorious, as are most things associated with me. You see, tomorrow no other female will be racing toward that stage because I have made sure of it. Flawlessly, as always. You see, spears and sword: they aren't the only weapons you need in the arena, a true victor manipulates every situation to their benefit and I did. Yesterday, my best friends were lies, blackmail and of course my physical prowess. You have to do whatever is necessary to make sure you come out on top, or so they say.

I am the perfect candidate for a tribute, for a career and for a Victor. I have it all; the looks, the charm and the ability to kill, indiscriminately. Sponsors will be falling over themselves to send me gifts; the male tributes will be falling over themselves to simply talk to me. Sometimes I think the world is so unfair, seeing as I am so perfect and really nobody else is. I have the classic beauty: golden blonde hair that waves to the centre of my back, the long legs which really do go on for miles, the pouted lips, the sparkling blue eyes the shape of almonds and the curves that stop any man in their tracks. Add the fact that I can handle any weapon I lay my eyes on with unparalleled skill and I'm willing to do anything to win and what do you have? The perfect tribute, me.

Ruby, a precious gem: a symbol of status, desirable. My name is just so fitting for me, for I am desirable; ask any of the worthless men here in my district. I am the most beautiful, the most envied and well, I'm simply the best and nobody would dare question it. And so we arrive here, today: Reaping day, the beginning of my new life.

I couldn't sleep lat night at all. My hands were tingling, poised to throttle some pathetic being; my eyes ached to witness the life fade from another tributes eyes; it was too much: the need to kill, to be feared to have someone begging for the mercy that I would never give them. I sat awake all night, devising new ways to kill the tributes, to slice through their frail skin with a thin blade laced with poison, to hear their screams and their pleas would be a pleasure that could be matched by none. I would give no one the easy death they anticipate when they enter the arena: I would torture each and every pathetic creature that crossed my path. And I will enjoy every second of it. Now, one must remember that the key to good torture is not the pain, but the ability to prolong that pain as long as humanly possible.

Since I couldn't sleep I revised the strategy that I would use in the games: the smiling throughout the chariot rides; the charm I'd have to employ during the interview, using the flawless answers I've had planned for years and of course my role within the careers. I'm guaranteed my place within the pack, the decision is whether or not I lead it; if I lead I automatically become a target, not that any of the other tributes would pose a threat. If I become a 'follower' the leader would more than likely screw things up. I pondered this decision for hours, playing out different scenarios: all that had me becoming the victor of course. In the end I decided to become the 'back seat driver', I'll allow some gormless male to become the leader and then manipulate him with my feminine wiles, effectively being the leader. See not am I only insanely beautiful, I have brains too. Seriously, could I be any more perfect if I tried?

The remainder of the night I spent deciding on an outfit for the reaping; it needed to be immaculate, just like me. It needed to say feminine but lethal; sophisticated but ruthless. After trying on a multitude of outfits, I was becoming insanely frustrated and my raging temper was beginning to flare. They were all beautiful per say, but just not right; they just weren't good enough to be seen draped across my toned physique. In public anyway. I was almost at the end of my tether, set to destroy my room and more than likely the whole of the 'Community Home'.

Yes, I am the orphan tribute but I don't need sympathy; I am better off without my parents, I had more time to spend on training my mind and body, not that I ever really needed it but I suppose every little helps. My parents were socialites and undoubtedly if they were to live, I'd have spent times at social events rather than training till my muscles scream in protest; which I had done every day since I had been allowed to study at the academy: The breeding ground for future careers. In no time I was the top of the class, at 14 I was sparring with 18 year old, even males; I had defeated Platinum Herzesky numerous times in the training ring and he went on to win the 59th Hunger Games: even more proof I had what it took to become Victor, even though I needed no more evidence.

Hours after hours blurred into one as I pondered how I was the perfect tribute, and what to wear to the reaping, eventually the sun began to shine brightly in the sky, a flaming orb. But my problems dissipated as I found it: The outfit. Glamorous, flawless and devastatingly beautiful; an outfit that literally screamed 'ME'.

I now stand before a mirror gazing at the reflection: Perfection, there was literally no other word to describe the ravishing beauty before me. The black satin dress clings to my curves, my waist appears more narrow; my breasts more full with the plunging neckline. The short length combined with the 5 inch patented black stilettos made my muscled legs appear even more perfect than usual. The sleeveless style also draws attention to my toned arms. This dress personifies me: Beautiful yet deadly. After admiring myself for a few minutes I move onto make up, lining me eyes with heavy black eyeliner and painting my lips a vivid scarlet; my masterful appliance of make up had highlighted my features elevating my beauty further and making me appear enigmatic. Now I was ready for the cameras.

Being fit for public viewing I walked down into the canteen, a smirk making itself known on my lips: Heaven, I was in heaven as I saw the girls throwing looks of loathing and jealousy in my direction; some even looked hopeful, as if I were to take a seat with them. Don't make me laugh, these useless specimen were nowhere near my calibre, I would never taint myself by socialising with those beneath me. I am not a snob, I just know that I'm better than these people; I take a seat alone, pointedly ignoring anyone who tries to gain my attention and curling my lip at anyone who tried to approach my table.

I have never had friends, not wanted them; yes, I suppose it would be nice to trifle in the frivolity of gossip but not one of these pathetic people, or anyone I have ever encountered has earned the privilege to refer to me as their 'friend' or even their 'acquaintance'. I've had boyfriends, although the technical term would be 'male to satisfy my sexual needs' nobody has ever earned the rite for me to love them. Love is a fallacy; lust is the only emotion I would ever feel towards a man.

Breakfast is finished and I am stuck as for what to do; I could go and allow boys to ogle me near the fountain dedicated to the district 1 victors, a monument which will bear my name in a short few weeks. No, I do not feel like flaunting my perfection before the ceremony. It's not even as if I need to arrive at the Justice Building early, no other girl will even dare try to volunteer; they know it's my time to shine, and shine I shall.

I spend the remainder of the time wondering aimlessly through the streets of district 1, admiring the stunning architecture of the townhouses with their marble pillars and stunning verandas. I stop at Victor Village, looking out at the most impressive structures in the district, I feel a quiver of excitement as I picture myself waltzing through the gilded streets, proud to call myself a victor and knowing I had rid Panem of 23 beings who were not worth the oxygen which they breathed.

I stood there staring up at my future home, daydreaming until I heard a series of chimes in the distance. The reapings had begun, I turned and began to walk towards the town square; I was not concerned with something as trivial as punctuality, for when you are as fabulous as me you can only ever be 'fashionably late' and fashionably late I most certainly am. I arrive as Mayor Glitter is completing his god awful rendition of the 'Treaty of Treason'; he speaks quietly and stumbles over his words. Pathetic man. No one is paying me any attention due to my late arrival, no hushed whispers wondering about my whereabouts, well that just won't do. I begin to clap as the crowd falls silent, I see heads spinning toward me I hear the whispers that I'd arrived, looks of lust seem to radiate from the hormonal male youths, fear clouds the eyes of any girl who dared considered volunteering. Order is restored, all eyes are on me.

I am garnering so much attention that the district escort, has to tap the microphone to regain the attention of my audience. His name is Dorian Tranter, a very attractive man if I must say with his raven hair and golden eyes; I can see me and him having a lot of fun throughout my stay at the Capitol. He begins to intone about the honour of being a tribute, a fact I am well aware of; but I decide to cut his speech short. I walk towards the stage in slow measured steps, swaying my hips with each step; a lady never likes to disappoint her faithful audience, its me they came to see. As I mount the stage I turn to wink at the gathered crowd, then turn back to the escort; he is simply flabbergasted, never in Hunger Games history has someone climbed onto the stage before a name has been called.

'Mr Tranter, There is no need for you to bother yourself with drawing a girl's name, I am the female tribute.' I lower my voice and adopt a husky tone, piercing him with a look of unadulterated lust, fake of course. I see his eyes begin to darken in desire, men: will they ever learn to think with their heads and not their genitalia?

'Oh' He is fumbling his words, trying to regain a sense of composure and a smug smile curls at the corner of my lips.

'And what is your name?'

'Ruby Ashford' I now turn to the gathered crowd, the sun is glistening off of my hair. In this moment I look and feel like a goddess.

'Although I won't object to being called Victor Ruby, if that's more convenient' Look at them, hanging from my every word: my adoring fans. They are cheering for me and I love it, they know their place. Dorian seems to have ambled to the boys reaping bowl and plucked a piece of paper, I step back; it's time to meet the competition. Dorian continues to throw me covetous glances as he makes his way to the microphone.

'Fieyro Huntington' Oh I've seen him around the training centre; he is good although his skills pale in comparison to my own. 16, good build but you can tell by looking that he is dim-witted and therefore easily manipulated; these games will be a piece of cake. As I am imagining the variety of ways that I'll dispatch of Mister Huntington, I hear a shout.

'I volunteer' I turn towards the source of the commotion, Fieyro is looking extremely confused with his brow wrinkled. It's Nicoli Spinoza, he is the 'friendly one' always huddled away in a corner talking with his insufferable friends. Especially that Katia Marshall, she is so snobbish; thinking she's better than everyone else. Sorry darling, but that's my job. He is well respected at the academy; I can't be too sure about his skills. I've heard rumours about him, supposedly homosexual; understandable seeing as all he seems to talk about is dance, art, literature and fashion but that is beside the point I don't know enough about him. He is an enigma, and I do not like enigmas.

By now he has made his way onto the stage, looking all cherubic with his pouted lips, his raven hair falling into his sparkling and strangely innocent blue eyes. He is around 6' with a swimmers build; his muscles are long and wiry but most definitely there. He introduces himself before turning to me; he extends his hand, a genuine smile gracing his cute features. I take his hand and plaster a smile onto my face. Well Mister Spinoza you can stand there looking as cute as you like but by the end of these games you shall be dead and I shall be victorious.

We're walking to into the Justice Building and my district partner doesn't seem to be shutting up.

'Oh your dress, the cut is perfect for your figure. I've seen you in training: so graceful, but fierce. You sure you aren't a dancer? It's just the way you move' I smile and nod my head as he babbles on, he will be a career and therefore my ally, I don't need to make enemies too early after all.

'I am kind of excited to be going to the Capitol, aren't you? They are so culturally advanced: they are the pioneers of fashion, art and culture. I can't wait to meet the stylists seriously; it'll be like heaven to me. I'm sure both of us will look amazing. I wonder who our mentors will be. I'm hoping for Liam, he is a close friend; he told me to volunteer actually. Plus if I win this thing people will stop spreading those rumours, have you heard them? And maybe dad will be proud, and then he'll let me pursue my career in fashion' God, I am stuck with someone who will not shut the hell up, I continue to smile but I cannot help but imagine that if he doesn't become quiet in my presence soon, I will kill him. I mean I am Ruby Ashford, not anybody can just talk to me. I decided to shut him up.

'Oh yes, Nicoli—'

'Oh call me Nikki, everyone does'

'Oh, Nikki I'm sure it's going to be amazing, the Capitol, the costumes, everything. But right now, I'm a little overwhelmed and just need to be alone. Ever so sorry' He is nodding understandably, a smile on his face yet again.

'Oh I understand, if you need anything just let me know. I'm so glad we're friends and we'll talk later' He gives me a quick hug and disappears, most probably to say goodbye to his friends and family. I am shocked; he just touched me without permission. How dare he, I'll have to teach him manners: the hard way.

I spend the next hour just standing around in the room I was led to, the room in which I am meant to be saying goodbye to friends and family. Seeing as I have no friends or family I am unsurprisingly left alone. I appreciate this time to just sit and think; Mister Spinoza poses a problem, is he being fake? Is he trying to get close to me, in order to betray me? I'm glad that we have a week until the arena; I'll spend the time trying to find the answers to my questions. Because I am sure that the boy will not be getting the better of me, I'm primed and ready to kill him at the drop of a hat. Sucks to be him.

Oh Ruby, you self obsessed cow, but really as a career would you have it any other way? ;) So let me know what you think of her? The chapter in my opinion is one of the poorer ones and for that I apologise; but I have some plans for Ruby, plans I hope you enjoy. Now, let us all say thanks to backt0theburrow for our narcissistic bitch shall we? Plus we have met our first male tribute, Nicoli! Courtesy of ToxicatedRose. I know you haven't met him properly, but any thoughts about him? We'll get an insight to his mind laters.

TTFN...Oh, and REVIEW! :D Till next time xxx