Hello everyone!
Another update again thanks you to all those who have reviewed, followed, favourited and offered advice I appreciate all of it so much. There might be a few tweaks as there aren't so many District 12 victors as I have written insights for so I'll be altering them slightly and I want to keep this as canon as possible. And on that subject we have the second quarter quell's victor!
Hope you enjoy!
49.
Creek Davies, Male, District 4.
I don't know how I've managed to escape that bloodbath, it's horrendous and it's the most tributes I've ever seen be killed at the Cornucopia. I'm watching the Anthem play, it's been delayed an hour because there have been so many killings. It makes my job far easier but it doesn't mean I don't want to throw up every time I see one of the faces that trained alongside me. I rejected the careers, for once I'm the oldest out of them all and that makes me confident. The anthem finishes and I cover the camera beside me in the cave with my sleeping bag so they can't see the tears begin to fall. Sixteen tributes are dead. We already have the top eight. They are interviewing my family back home now as we speak. I don't have any supplies, to go for it was suicide this year. I'm weedy and pale for a boy from District 4. I don't have any of the stunning good looks other have and it's plagued me my whole life. I've had to rely on my brains, my cunning and my wits to get this far. The pretty face routine appears to be dying out, the last couple of victors have been brutal. No matter who I have to train, if I win, I'll make sure they are more than just a good face.
50.
Haymitch Abernathy, Male, District 12.
I've survived this far. That's remarkable considering the track history of my District. I'm back at the forcefield, it's somewhat of a beacon for me now. It marks a friendship I didn't ever expect to earn in this battleground, she was more than my ally. Her image keeps replaying over and over, sometimes it's the wild fiery look in her eyes when she saved me from that career, sometimes it's the moment those disgustingly puffy birds and their beaks skewer through her neck; but most of the time it's her soft smile as she tells me with all the confidence in the world that she's looking at the victor of the 50th Hunger Games. I wince horribly as her smile flashes before my eyes again. I slaughtered every one of those pink things till they were nothing more than a mound of feathers. I throw another rock off the edge of the cliff and wait for it to zoom back over to me. I've found a chink in the armour of the Capitol itself, a way to win no one has ever thought about before and as I wait almost desperately for that rock to rise back I hope I didn't just imagine it. But I can't stay for long here, I hear a scream and close my eyes as it blends with Maysilee's from yesterday. As if it was waiting for the cameras to move off of me and onto the dying tribute the rock zooms back and I catch it in my outstretched palm. I move at once, I can't let the gamemakers know I've discovered one of their weak spots so I try to climb a tree and fail miserably at it. Far better for them to see me busting my gut and sniggering, I'll save that forcefield for when I really need it. A canon goes off in the air and with a sinking feeling I realise I'm now in the final two. This means the girl from 1 is left and she'll be hunting for me right now. I'll try to end her like I did her friends, the knife is strong in my grip and I've already proven to her how lethal I am. I'm not resourceful like Maysilee was, but she certainly rubbed off on me. I square my shoulders and decide I may as well as try and find her too. Get these stupid stupid games over with. I ignore the beautiful meadows calling to me, the inviting streams and pools which really contain acid and the rainbow of toxic flowers which to me simply looks ridiculously sugary. It's like looking at the contents of the Capitol's cereal boxes to me and I've never liked anything from the Capitol. The mountain turned volcano has finished it's deadly path, it only wiped out twelve tributes. I thought it should have been more impressive than it had been. There are now 2 left from 48. The second Quarter Quell has been an unusual twist of events, but I'm glad I'm left with one of the Capitol kiss ups. I don't know what would have done if I had been heading to finish Maysilee Donner off.
51.
Wyvern Greenwich, Female, District 7.
The arena is mountains, or mostly just one giant mountain. The Cornucopia sits at the very top and this time it's a battle and a half just to reach the Cornucopia in order to get the weapons. It's a dull Hunger Games, most of the tributes tire out and just let go of their ropes. Some didn't tie themselves in tight enough while sleeping and literally slid off the mountain, at least it was a relatively painless death. The career girls stood no chance, how refreshing. They lacked muscles, whereas the boys from 2 and 6 were powerhouses. I'm from the Lumber District, I can climb anything, even mountains is would appear. It's an interesting games because the gamemakers know there won't be much blood spilt along the way. It's a quick process, the games last three days in total. Many die the first day when they realise the Launch pads have put us half way up the mountain and they don't know how to survive. There are cleverly distributed backpacks along the way with food and tools to help as well as the odd cave. I hit the jackpot. A slackline which attaches to a harness of some kind. I'm not sure how it works but near the beginning of my launch I found an ice axe which has proven invaluable. It ends up being me against the boy from 2. We are nearly at the top and I know how deadly he is from training. He's got a sword and is swinging out at me and he's mastered how to manoever on the mountain like me. If he cuts my line with that sword of his I'm dead. He lashes out but I'm been preparing, I must reach the top before him I kick out from the mountain as he makes what he hopes is his final kill and I fly round in a graceful arc holding onto the roping I've acquired along the way. He doesn't expect the move at all and my ice boots make contact on the other side of him and I quickly climb upwards and heave myself over the side. There's no time for respite however and I see his rope at the top of the mountain, his face is inches away from mine as I slam my axe down severing his rope. His fading, echoing cry of "Don't please!" Is the only thing I truly remember from my games.
52.
Lyme Commondant, Female, District 2.
Brutus is the devil. He's a tough, harsh mentor and part of me hates him. He stripped me of my innocence the first night on the train, he attacked me on the Capitol train. I'm only fifteen and I did not volunteer. I go running into my escort's room terrified out of my wits, she reprimands Brutus at once and he says nothing, despite the kitchen knife he had tried to sink into my pillow. The next night is the same when we've arrived at the Training Centre. I'm settled in after the chariot rides in which I was painted as Athena herself when he comes in again and the knife is once again swinging through the air. I dart out and don't stop till I'm on the roof panting heavily and wondering why my mentor is trying to murder me every night. He hasn't shown any sign of it stopping either. On the third night I'm ready though, I have my own knife ready by my bedside and I'm sleeping with one eye open ready for him. As soon as the door opens I throw that knife as direct and fast I can. It flies past him and into the hallway. If he hadn't have ducked he would be dead. I'm breathing heavily as he straightens up and sends me a wicked, satisfied grin. "Finally." It's one of the only words he's spoken to me outside of mentoring instructions and I do finally understand. Finally I'm in the mindset of the games, of a killer.
53.
Anthony Meropa, Male, District 10.
My father Cassius Meropa won the 31st Games. He was ruthless and he's trained me from the moment I could hold a spear properly. He's the reason there is a forcefield on the Training Centre and as I step onto that roof and walk over to the infamous spot I sit down and try to imagine how he threw that tribute from 2 off. The problem is as I mull it over in my head I can't imagine how he did it. How he could look into that girl's eyes and not feel any shred of remorse afterwards. He doesn't seem to have the nightmares like so many of the victors do, sure he has the odd one too many drinks but my father is proud of what he did. He told me if I should ever get the chance that I should follow in his footsteps. District 10 has only had one victor since my father, most of them are targeted by District 2 at once. There is a well known rivalry between our two Districts now. I look at the girl from 2 this year, she's quite typical. Beautiful but deadly. She's the only career left now, we've killed all the others but she looks terrified. Her eyes are wide like a scared deer in headlights as she eyes my long rapier. But I can't bring myself to kill her so I stick out my right arm and lower my weapon slightly, she stares at my hand in stunned disbelief as I take her own hand in mine, it's a firm handshake. "Allies." She nods, it's a statement not a request.
54.
Blight Fenworth, Male District 7.
I've been chopping the heads of anything that moves for the last hour, ever since the last tribute standing besides myself hit the dusty ground dead. I'm bleeding from somewhere and the animals are perfectly fine, till they smell the blood. Then the encircle me in a giant mass of canine fur and teeth and each time I knock one dead to the ground another leaps up to attach me. I'm beginning to tire, tributes were nothing compared to this and I wonder if it's really worth it or if I'm best off to just let them have me. Is it really worth it to say I'm one of the few victors in our District? Then I think of my poor mother, she's very ill back home. I think of my brother and sister and our dog, who is a stray but he's still ours in a way. They need me to come back, the Hunger Games must have a victor and this year they'll have to deal with me. So I keep on chopping, resolving myself and my stamina increases where I thought I had none and it's overwhelming me. My lumberjack arms are going a mile a minute, the only part of me which really has any muscle. Soon they are all dead lying in a giant furry heap. I look at the biggest out of the mutts and as they announce me as the winner I lift the decapitated animal's head high into the sky, claiming it as my victory prize.