Hope everyone had a great Thanksgiving! I hoped to get this out before the holiday, but that didn't happen. Nevertheless, here it is, ready for your eyes to read!

Welcome to District Three, home of the next four tributes. We have Marie Stein and Xena Sedala for our young women, who were created by Girl With a Flower Crown. Thanks for the submissions! For our guys, we have Quest Warez and Tek Palmer, made by AnnLiberty. More thanks than I can count! Right now, Quest seems to be my favorite, but let's see what happens when I write them! Stay safe everyone, and happy reading!

District Three Reapings: It's Time

It's time to begin, isn't it?

I get a little bit bigger, but then I'll admit

I'm just the same as I was

And I'm never changing who I am.

It's Time, Imagine Dragons

Quest Warez, aged 15

Quest awoke to one of his sisters jumping up and down on the foot of his bed. He couldn't tell which one it was, but he had an idea. Blinking the sleep out of his eyes, he opened them to see a blur of pink. Of course, he thought. Twain wouldn't jump all over the bed at this hour. Bradi had been the more likely candidate.

"Quest! Quest, get up!" she exclaims. Her pink nightgown lifts and falls as she does, and the color made him dizzy so early. Shaking his head, he threw the blanket off of him and grabbed his glasses off his bed table, and the room came sharply into focus.

"It's seven in the morning, Bradi," Quest complained. "Relax. What's the deal?"

He knew that she really had no reason. Bradi was a complete girly-girl, and for being eight years old, she acted like she was six. His parents never cared. She was their baby, their little girl. In secret, Quest and Twain worried that she would end up on one of the assembly lines when the time came for her to take up a job.

She just giggled and jumped off the bed, running out of the bedroom and into the hallway, leaving Quest to shake his head as he swung out of bed to get ready for the day.

"Bradi wake you up, too?" Quest turned to see Twain in his doorway, her own nightgown a plain gray. She had an amused expression on her face as she stared at him. "What are we going to do with her?"

Quest knew what she meant. If his parents didn't start getting Bradi on track so she could pass her tests when she was sixteen, she would have no future. "I don't know," he shrugged. "She's not stupid, Twain. She's just immature, but she'll have to grow up and start thinking about her future soon."

"We both know that, and so do Mom and Dad," Twain replied. "But if it doesn't happen soon, she'll end up assembling televisions."

"I'll talk to them," Quest said. He knew it was time to act. Television assemblies didn't make much money, and he couldn't bear to see his sister beaten into that monotony. She belonged on stage, dancing as Clara in The Nutcracker. She belonged with a paintbrush in her hands, mixing colors into amazing designs.

He wasn't going to let that happen to her.

"No one thinks that she will be reaped," Twain mused. She fully entered the room and sat on his bed. "I hope she won't be. It's not too likely, is it?"

"Doubt it," Quest said. He finished buttoning his shirt and sitting next to her. "Somebody would volunteer for her, though. Nobody's going to just let her go and die." His unspoken sentence hung in the air between the siblings. We wouldn't let her go.

"Let's just stick with, It's not too likely." Twain had a tone that was almost scared. She didn't show fear often, but today was different. Quest imagined the scene. Their escort pulling the name Bradi Warez. Then a girl a bit older volunteered. She announced her name as Twain Warez… He pushed that thought out of his mind and shook his head to clear it. "You have an hour til the Reaping. Go eat breakfast before we head out."

With a grin, Quest nodded and got up. He knew today would be fine. It had to be.

Xena Sedala, aged 11

Xena sat at the kitchen table, eating a tasteless bowl of some mush Mima had made the night before. Xena knew better than to complain about food. Knowing Mima, she'd get a lecture about being grateful for any food at all, and maybe a swat on the shoulder with the wooden spoon.

"Get finished quickly," Mima said, across the table from her. "The Steins are waiting for you by eleven, and you have to be at the Square at twelve thirty."

Xena didn't speak, and it was met with her sister's annoyed expression. She could understand her sister's actions to an extent. Everything had been just fine until her mother's death. She knew that Mima blamed her for the death of her mother in childbirth, and their father's abandonment afterward, leaving nine-year-old Mima taking care of a newborn. For a few years, they had relied on charity from neighbors. However, when Mima became eligible for a job, she had not passed her test well. She had been given a job managing a couple shifts at the cell phone factory. It made money, but not enough to take care of two girls all alone in the world.

Xena knew her sister before her tests. Life hadn't been perfect, but Mima had smiled on occasion back then. Now, Mima usually had a scowl on her features. It was only occasionally replaced by other emotions.

"I know. I'm going to head there right after I'm finished cleaning up."

Mima looked at her but said nothing. Xena finished eating in a few minutes and ran upstairs to get her apron and tie up her hair. She knew she needed to leave soon, but she took a moment to fix her hair neatly. No one wanted a messy-looking serving girl. That's what she was. She went early to the Mayor's house every morning very early and did whatever work was required of her until she had to get to school. Immediately after, she went back to do a few more hours work before going home for dinner in the evening.

As she walked through District 3, Xena felt that the streets were her friend. She spent more time there than she did anywhere else for the most part. It was a companionable silence, just her and the nearly empty morning streets.

Finally arriving at the Mayor's home, she knocked loudly on the door. It was answered by the one person she did not wish to see today. The mayor's daughter, Marie Stein, was at the door, a wide grin on her face. "Hi, Xena!"

The two girls were only a few years apart in age, but their lives couldn't have been more different. Marie had probably never lifted a finger to do any kind of work in her life, while Xena had to work simply to keep a roof over her head and food in her stomach.

Marie never seemed to care that they were so different, however. Whenever Xena was around doing work, Marie pestered her about school, friends, guys she liked, and accomplishments she had made. She wanted to roll her eyes at Marie most of the time and was usually glad to be free of her presence. Today, however, Marie was inescapable.

It was obvious that the older girl was very nervous because she babbled the whole time. Xena mostly tuned her out, but it was getting harder and harder as she moved throughout the kitchen, wiping counters and putting plates away. Finally, Xena had had enough. She was usually sweet and patient, but her nerves were short today, with the Reaping so close.

"Will you be quiet!?" Xena exclaimed, throwing her towel down on the counter and rounding on Marie. "You think you're nervous? You will never get picked. You only have, what, three entries? I'm only eleven! I'm not even supposed to be eligible for another year! Next year, I'm going to have four entries. I can't afford to not take any tesserae, unlike you."

Xena didn't say that while the younger tributes weren't eligible for tesserae, next year Mima would probably force her to take some tesserae. "You are a spoiled brat, Marie Stein. I hope you do get picked." Xena's eyes darted to the clock on the wall. It was almost noon, time for the Reaping.

Without a word, Xena turned away from Marie and stalked out of the kitchen and out the front door. She was dreading telling Mima that they'd probably lost their most valuable customer, and then she realized she did not care. If she wasn't picked today, which was very likely, she could run away. It was better than staying with someone who hated her.

And if she was chosen… Xena didn't want to think it, but the sentence finished itself in her head. If she was chosen, she would hope that no one would volunteer for her. She would be away from her sister who hated her, and the people who she worked for, who, however nice the acted to her, still seemed to be condescending. In the Capitol, she would be applauded and loved… at least until they wanted her dead in the Arena.

Walking down the sidewalk towards the square, Xena shook her head. She needed to get that thought out of her head. She would not be chosen. She did not want to be chosen. However much she tried to convince herself, she had never been a good liar.

Xena wanted to be chosen for the Hunger Games.

Tek Palmer, aged 8

Tek stood in the lines to enter the square, his mother by his side, holding his hand. He looked up at her, seeing that she had tears in her eyes. He knew why she and his father were always crying lately. He should not have been eligible for the Reaping for several more years, and this Quell had ruined that. He had as much chance of being chosen as any one of the newly eligible children.

They reached the end of the line, where one of the ladies there roughly grabbed his hand. A sharp pain stabbed his middle finger, and his finger was pressed onto the open page of what appeared to be a leger.

"Go on through," the woman said. Tek waited for his mother to finish, and they made their way through the crowd to figure out where Tek would need to wait for the tributes to be chosen. Finally, he spotted a few kids he recognized from his class at school.

Tek had done his best to be strong for his parents. He hadn't cried when he found out when he found out he would be eligible for the Games this year. No tears had been shed when they had gone to the Justice Building to register him. Now, it was all too much. No eight year old should have had to deal with this stuff. Now he cried.

He didn't want to be here. He wanted to go home and play MegaMan on his video game system. He wanted to be laughing and sharing a cupcake with his friends he sat with at lunchtime. More than anything, he wanted his father here too. He had come early to save spaces in the crowd for himself and his wife, and Tek wished he could see him right now, for what possibly would be the last time.

Tek's mother noticed that her son had begun crying, and knelt down to his level. She quickly wiped off her own tears before drying his as well. "You've been very brave, Tek," she told him. As always, her voice was very soothing to him. It was no different than if she was placing a wet cloth on his forehead when he was sick, or helping him tie his shoes, patiently explaining how the bunny went into his tunnel. "I'm so sorry you have to go through this, but I promise you'll be just fine today. We'll be home later, eating dinner and laughing at our worry. Right now, though, you have to be strong a bit longer and wait with your friends. Can you do that?"

With a shudder, Tek nodded. She was right, of course. His mother had never lied to him, and he didn't think she would start now. He decided that he would believe her, and gave a small smile. "I love you, Mom."

Mother and son embraced, and then Tek surged into the crowd of eight-year-olds. He was right next to a girl wearing a pale pink dress, her light brown hair in similarly colored pigtails. Bradi Warez was a nice enough girl, but she kind of annoyed Tek. She never took her studies seriously, preferring to paint all the time. He knew she had two older siblings, but he didn't remember their names, but that didn't matter.

"Hiya, Tek," another voice said. Tek turned around to see his friend Noala grinning at him.

"Hi," he said, his voice subdued. Noala looked at him, narrowing her eyes.

"You okay?" she asked, her voice laced with worry. They had been friends since the beginning of this school year. She had been moved from a different classroom to his. She had been sat next to her, and when he'd asked why she'd been transferred, her reply had been, "I hit a kid with a box of colored pencils because he pulled my hair and tried to take them away."

"I'm fine," he answered, attempting some of his usual jovial demeanor. It came up short, however, and Noala didn't relent.

"No, you're not," she decided. "Of course not. This is ridiculous!"

They didn't get a chance to talk long, for the escort, a woman named Berenice began the Reaping.

The typical spiel was rolled out, but this was the first year Tek paid attention to it. He thought it sounded a lot like propaganda. He had learned that word in class last week, and he liked the sound of it.

Finally, Berenice ended with the expected, "Happy Hunger Games, and may the odds be ever in your favor!"

She walked over to the first bowl, labeled as the older girls bowl. A slip of paper was drawn, and Berenice returned to the podium. She undid the wrapped up paper, and read the name silently for a moment. She seemed to take a while to process the name. Slowly, she said, "The elder female tribute of District Three will be Marie Stein."

Tek understood her surprise. What were the odds of this girl being chosen? The Mayor's daughter had to be one of the safest in the district. If she wasn't safe, nobody was. Not really. The girl came out of the fourteens section, her big blue eyes widened in shock as she took in the information. She suddenly stopped moving. A pair of Peacekeepers came over to her and began to push her onto the stage. Marie thrashed in their grips, yelling things like, "Do you know who I am?!" and, "Someone please volunteer!"

No one did, and Marie stood onstage, alone with the breeze blowing through her blonde hair. It was a pathetic sight, and Tek knew that she would be gone after a few days in the arena. Even if she wasn't killed by a tribute, she would not be used to going hungry, which was common in the Games.

The commotion died down enough for Berenice to get the crowd's attention back onto the matter at hand. The younger female tribute was drawn, and her name read out for the crowds to hear.

"The younger female tribute of District Three is Xena Sedala!"

From the eleven-year-olds section, a dark-haired little girl stood and made her way through the pack, her face a shell-shocked mask of didn't seem to be taking in the crowds around her, staring instead at Marie. Marie was determinedly not looking at her, and Tek wondered what was going on there.

No commotion ensued this time, for Xena was complacent, walking up onto the stage and standing beside Marie silently, a couple feet between them. Without issue, Berenice moved on with the proceedings.

A name was drawn from the older males section, and the last name jogged Tek's memory.

"The elder male tribute from District Three is… Quest Warez!"

Tek caught a glimpse of pink and noticed the form of Bradi Warez take a couple of minuscule steps back, nearly bumping into him. "Sorry," she whispered.

A boy came out of the fifteen-year-olds section, taking his time as he scanned the crowds. He seemed to be searching for people, but he stopped as he reached the stage. Standing on the other side of Marie, he awkwardly adjusted his wire-rimmed glasses on his nose.

All too soon, Berenice moved on with the ceremony, and Tek remembered to be afraid. What if he was chosen? What if he was chosen? What if…?

Berenice read the name she had drawn, and Tek felt his blood run cold.

"Finally, our younger male tribute for District Three is Tek Palmer."

Tek heard Noala gasp behind her and grasp his hand as if she could keep him there that way. Bradi whipped around to face him, her face worried and streaked with tears.

No one tried to protect him. Why would they? He was an only child and friendship only went so far where the Games were concerned. The crowd parted, making a path for Tek to get to the stage. The walk was like what he imagined heading to an execution would feel like.

Tek made it to the stage, taking his place beside Quest on the end of the lineup. Tek did his best and was pleased to know that he would not cry now.

A piercing scream rang through the crowd. Tek pinpointed the noise and saw his mother, an agonized expression on her face as she leaned into his father. He himself looked like he wanted to collapse, but he was focused on keeping his wife upright.

Tek didn't take his eyes off of them until Peacekeepers escorted them into the Justice Building.

Marie Stine, aged 14

Oooh, that wretched girl! Marie wanted to rush next door and wring that miserable girl Xena's neck before someone else got the chance in the Arena. It was Xena's fault that Marie was in the Games now, she was sure of it. How else could she have been chosen?

Her words from earlier played over in Marie's mind, bringing her ever closer to flying from the room to the one beside her own. I hope you get Reaped! You're a spoiled brat! Marie didn't believe those last words, of course. It wasn't her fault that her parents gave her everything she asked for. Her life was perfect. Who wouldn't have taken advantage of it? Sure, she talked a lot sometimes, but that was when she was nervous.

It had been completely out of line for Xena to have said those things. Marie was her better. If she had wanted, she could have had someone arrest her and punished.

Marie was brought out of her thoughts by the door opening, and two people entered the room to visit her. She had expected to see Graine or Urala, or probably Chip. It was her parents, come to say goodbye.

"Mama, papa," Marie was a little girl again, curling up in her mother's arms after getting a scraped knee. Her mother, the mayor, embraced her for a few moments, before holding her out at arm's length to look at her.

"Marie, sweetheart," she whispered, tears shimmering in her eyes. Marie felt like crying, looking at her mother. "I'm so sorry this happened. I did everything I could to get you out of it, but I failed. It's not possible to do a redraw, and no one volunteered."

"I knew that I'd have to do it," Marie replied, smiling wanly. She didn't like it, but she had accepted being in the Games. After all, here she was just the mayor's daughter. In the Capitol, she could be a Victor.

"You know you're not strong, Marie," her father told her, wincing as he said the words. He didn't want to tell his daughter this, but it was necessary. She couldn't be too confident in herself, or she'd lose focus. "Focus on camouflaging and hiding. Things that can help you avoid tributes. That'll be your best chance."

Marie was wrapped in her father's arms then, and everything felt safe to her mother's arms were comforting when she was hurt or upset. In her father's arms, she felt like nothing would be able to harm her. She wanted to keep that feeling forever, but she knew that was pretty impossible. She believed in many things that some would say were not possible, but she knew that this was one thing even she would not believe.

"Thanks, papa," she said. "I'll do my best to come back. I think I can do it."

Finally, their time was done. Even the mayor had to obey rules, and there were only fifteen minutes allowed per each set of sat for a while, hoping that someone, anyone else would come to visit her before the hour was up.

Her wish was granted. Shortly before the hour was to be done, the door opened and a boy her age entered. His dark curly hair was in his eyes, and he pushed it away, revealing his intense grey eyes.

"Chip!" Marie exclaimed, more excited than she should have probably let on. She had had a crush on him for the last year or so, but they had been friends long before that. It had been awkward the last year, but she'd managed to hide her crush on him. It was embarrassing!

"Hey, Marie," he said, giving her his lopsided grin that made her like him even more. "I'm sorry you got picked. It's totally unfair. You shouldn't have been able to get picked. You had nowhere near enough entries."

Marie knew that of course, but it had happened. There was no point denying that much. "And yet, here I am," she said brightly. "I think it will be fun, even if I do die. Sort of like camping, I think."

Chip seemed to want to say something, but then he stopped himself. "Right. Anyway, I just wanted to give you something." He took an object out of his pants pocket and handed it to Marie. She examined the silver colored ribbon in her hand.

"It's really pretty, Chip! Thanks!" She was entirely happy to receive this gift from the guy she liked. It seemed almost like a token of affection, like in the romance stories she heard about.

Chip had gone slightly red-faced and began rubbing his arm. "Er… mom wanted me to give it to you. Something left over from a dress she made yesterday."

The silence was awkward, and Chip seemed to be relieved when the time was up and he was required to leave. Marie was all alone, sitting in the receiving room as the time to leave came closer and closer.

She would not let the time dwindle away. She would use it to win over the Capitol citizens and become this year's Victor. She just needed to get Xena out of the way before that happened. No way would they win together. Marie would see to that.

So that's the chapter. Just wanted to make a quick announcement before I give you your questions for this entry. I have a beta! Thank you so much to the lovely SadieAnnabethMellark! She helped so much through this chapter. I might have her go through the previous chapters as well, so look for those to be re-uploaded. I'm also hoping to get into a fairly regular updating schedule, but I make no promises. So now here's your questions for this chapter. There's a lot this round!

1. I forgot to ask this last chapter: Who were your favorites last chapter? Persephone, Marcus, Calaena, or Leo?
2. What did you think of the video cast? Is my casting decent enough?
3. Will Quest's knowledge be a help or hindrance? Is he too smart in only certain areas?
4. Will Xena's mouth end up getting her in trouble?
5. Is Tek going to be an early elimination, or do you think there's something behind his innocent surface?
6. Marie is quite spoiled, but will her optimism help her in any way? Is she going to be just another lackluster tribute?