And here is Chapter 3!

Chapter 4 will come as quickly as I can manage while working around school.

Do enjoy, please!

"It's over,

No longer-

I feel it growing stronger.

I live to die another day...

Until I fade away."

-Breaking Benjamin, "Until the End".

His breath came out in a rush, and he wiped his palms lightly against the suit he was in; he'd tried gleaning information from the material earlier and learned only that it was rough on the outside, silky on the inside, and a little heavier than he would have liked if he would need to be running or climbing. It wasn't much trouble for his awesome self, but it might slow Vash down, perhaps. Gilbert's head was spinning, and at the worst possible time. His stylist-what had she called herself? Loony? That seemed accurate-was pushing him half-heartedly towards a tube. The lack of alcohol was getting to him, and for a brief moment, he couldn't remember what the tube was for, only that he didn't want to get into it.

"Hey, just let me, I forgot something in the...stop shoving, I'm going, I'm going!"

Reluctantly he stepped onto the pad. The woman in front of him stepped forward, her face suddenly twisting in concern as there was a tinny rustle from her ear piece; she covered the microphone and stepped forward with her hand outstretched, but they were out of time. Her voice was swept away from him as he was pushed upwards suddenly, towards the light.

"Get to the ou-!"

He looked down, but all he could see was the burnished silver beneath his feet. What had she been trying to say? Would it help him? Ah, what was he going on about, the woman was crazy. And entirely too strong for her own good, he remembered, rubbing lightly at a barely visible bruise on his cheek, left over from the parade fiasco. But that wasn't what he should be focusing on, and he was reminded of that as he was suddenly thrust into the open air, at the same time as he heard several other metal clicks all around him. He blinked his eyes rapidly to adjust them-not because the arena was very bright, but because it was very dim. His nose was clogged with the scent of forest; it was damp, and hot, and if Gilbert had ever been to a tropical island, he would imagine this would be what it would feel like. In a matter of seconds he was drenched with sweat, and he looked around.

To his right was that elegant bastard from the parade, the one who'd made such a show with his wife, said woman standing on the platform directly beside him. She looked much different now, hair tied back to keep it off her face, dressed in the same garb he was, and not sparing him a glance. A shame; she was kind of pretty. His eyes slid back to the man, who he noted with pleasure looked distinctly uncomfortable, well-cared-for hair clinging in strands to his sweat-slick cheeks, glasses just now beginning to unfog from the sudden change in temperature. None of them dared move too much; they'd all seen what happened to Tributes who accidentally stepped off the platform before they were released.

His eyes shifted to the left, where Vash stood, upright and serious as always, his normal expression unchanged, green eyes locked intensely on...the Cornucopia. Of course. Eyes on the prize at all times; that was how the man operated.

"Ladies and Gentleman! Let the One-Hundredth Hunger Games...begin!"

Wait. On the...oh, he wouldn't. Sixty seconds; that was all he had.

"Vash. Vash." He whispered urgently, trying to get the other's attention. The petite man twitched lightly but stayed in the same position, body tensed, waiting. "Shouldn't we discuss this or-"

Too late. The gong sounded, and everything was a rush of motion. Gilbert flung himself, trying to tackle the blond and missing by inches that might as well have been miles, landing hard on the ground with a mouthful of moss that he was sure he didn't want to be eating. He came up spluttering, seeing the two little Tributes from Four go scampering off into the forest with what looked like a backpack; fast little devils. The girl from One was in the thick of things, already almost to the Cornucopia, Vash hot on her heels; the man from One was nowhere to be seen. What a coward, leaving his wife like that!

With a low growl, Gilbert stumbled to his feet, running as fast as he could to catch up to who were quickly shaping up to be the Career Tributes; Vash, himself, the brunette woman from One, and a small, quick man he was assuming was from Three was carefully snatching things from the edges just outside of the Cornucopia itself, avoiding the main fighting. A blonde was already inside the Cornucopia-Gilbert was pretty sure he was from District Five; with any luck, maybe he was suffering from alcohol withdrawals worse than his. But he looked fit, and dangerous, and was out of the Cornucopia with a backpack and something under his arm before the woman from One got there. She made a grab at him as he passed, but he elbowed her quickly, sending her crashing to the ground. Gilbert felt a brief moment of sympathy, before she grabbed a dagger and threw it at the blonde's head, just missing him.

Right. Everyone was trying to kill each other.

His eyes flicked restlessly, trying to account for all of the Districts. Neither of the Tributes from Six were around; they'd probably done as Four had and grabbed what they could from the edges. The female Tribute from Seven darted out from the trees, grabbing the knife the Tribute from One had thrown; and her eyes locked on him, her lips lifting in a slow, cold smile that sent a shiver down Gilbert's spine; but just as soon as he blinked, she was gone. The male Tribute from Seven was nowhere to be seen-that worried him. He'd been a big man, one easily suited to being a Career, but he hadn't seen him since the gong sounded. Perhaps he wasn't as tough as he looked.

He couldn't see either Tribute from Eight; that made sense, at least. However, he couldn't see either of the Tributes from Nine either, and that did worry him. Those two were hunters, perfectly adapted to an arena like this. The heat was the biggest concern right now; it made them all sluggish, caused the air to stick in their lungs, making them cough. But he had to focus; the real threats were fighting it out at the Cornucopia.

He didn't see anyone from District Ten; that made sense, too. Simple herders were not used to fighting, but they could be pretty resilient. They would be something to watch out for in the long run. District Eleven had a contender; a tan-looking man with dark hair and eyes, determinedly sifting through the weapons just outside the Cornucopia. He grabbed a sword, raising it and looking towards Gilbert with a grim expression. He took one step towards him, and Gilbert's crimson eyes darted around, desperately searching for a weapon, but those were closer to the golden prize, just out of reach. So instead, he took a step back.

And blinked as the man yelped, biting back a scream at what seemed the last moment, something dark blooming across the arm holding the sword, making his fingers spasm. He dropped the blade staring for just a moment in shock at the arrow that had appeared in his shoulder before grabbing the sword in his other hand and running for the woods.

A light sigh of relief escaped Gilbert, but it didn't last long. If someone had a bow, then they were all sitting ducks. He had to get to Vash. He made a run for the Cornucopia, hearing loud shouts from within; the real fighting had begun. His mind was racing. He had to know who was fighting, and who was simply surviving.

The number of fighters was slightly higher this year than normal, which seemed ironic to him. There was himself, and Vash; the woman from District One, and the man from District Three; the large blond from District Five, and whoever had the bow, someone he was assuming was from District Nine; District Eleven had one, the man who'd been shot, and that was all, wasn't it? That meant there were seven. But as he rounded the corner, he took a quick a moment to count; Six. Six besides himself, and not including the sniper in the woods. That meant there were eight; who had he not counted?

He spotted her quickly, a pale girl who looked more suited to painting than to fighting, exchanging quick blows with the dark-haired man from Three. She had to be one of the Capitol Tributes, and she fought with a stiff, practiced feel, as if she'd only ever used a sword in a classroom, which was probably true. She wielded a thin, saber-like blade that seemed almost clumsy in her hands, but somehow, she got a hit in, and the man from Three stumbled back, seeming surprised; it was all she needed, and Gilbert watched as she took advantage of the brief respite, running for the woods. Why had she not finished him off? It seemed like no one really wanted to kill each other...

Just as the thought crossed his mind, a scream ripped its way through the forest, followed by shouts, and what sounded like something very large crashing through the trees. Gilbert's heart leaped into his throat; the Tributes, apparently, weren't all they had to worry about, even this early in the Games.

Finally, he made his way to the opening of the Cornucopia, and began scrambling for some sort of weapon. Vash was there, alright, but so was the woman, and she apparently was much more durable than Gilbert had given her credit for, because she currently had Vash on the ground with a sword at his throat.

"Get off of him!" He yelled, startling her and causing her to look up, giving Vash to opening he needed. He twisted in a way Gilbert thought must have been painful and planted his boot in the woman's stomach, kicking her off of him and sending her stumbling back, tripping over the many items here, crying out and clutching her hand to her chest as she fell, blood pouring from it. Vash snatched up a pistol and a bowie knife, glaring at him.

"Grab something and let's get out of here, idiot!" Gilbert opened his mouth to give the blond a piece of his mind, since he'd just saved his ass and all, but instead grabbed a long sword, buckling it clumsily at his waist and snatching up a dagger, slipping it into his boot. That brunette was stirring again, and to be honest, he'd seen enough of her today to last a lifetime. Even if it would be a relatively short lifetime.

As always, I'll do my best to hurry along with the next chapter.

R&R, please!