Hi y'all. Welcome to District Four's Reapings.

1st order of business: I still do not own the Hunger Games, or Julius Caesar (which is having less amazing quotes than I hoped, so my chapter titles have been mediocre . . . my apologies.)

2nd order of business: There is a blog up. I'm going to need help linking it to my profile (Elim9?) or whatever it is you folks do. The address might be: .com. It'll be up on my profile too and I'll continue to update as the Games progress.

That's all the business end folks, now on with the show. Thank you Isteed and Rockkit for Freida and Ibrahima

District Four

Put to Silence

Cast: Excelcia Mercilus – Victor of First Games at 18 (currently 36)

Mags Cohen – Victor of 11th Annual Hunger Games at 13 (currently 20)

Escort Evriam Link

POV Mags Cohen

"Are you ready this time?" Excelcia demanded, a smug smirk on her face.

"Yes," Mags responded quietly.

"You're absolutely certain you're not going to vomit again? If you do, I may challenge you to an onstage duel for the embarrassment you cause me." Mags wanted to scream 'I was fourteen! That was six years ago,' but could never bring herself to do it. For the past six years she'd been eclipsed by Excelcia and her controlling attitude. She was never horrible, to Mags at least, but she made it very clear that she was in control when the tributes were in the arena. Well, not only then, really. Even in everyday life in the Victor's Village it seemed as though Mags would be a perpetual child, never as exceptional or as brilliant as Excelcia, the first victor ever. Yes, Mags had gained her glory as District Four's second Victor and was assisting Excelcia at the developing Career Academy, but it was Excelcia's baby. She could keep the glory; most of the time Mags wanted nothing to do with it.

"It's time!" Excelcia's sharp voice pierced through Mags' daydreaming. She took the younger Victor's hand, but not affectionately. "Let's go meet the prospects." She smiled and led Mags out onto the stage beside where Evriam Link was already waiting, her aqua hair flirting with the ground. Excelcia beamed as they emerged in applause. Mags still didn't understand why the people applauded at their appearance. They were coming, after all, to subject two of their children to terror from which they most likely wouldn't emerge.

Mags felt her knees shaking during the Capitol anthem. She hated the eyes of people, even more the eyes of everyone in her district, everyone from whom she was now separated in the Victor's Village. She hated it, but she couldn't let it show. She put a fake smile on her face and allowed her mind to go blank.

"Freida Vasey!" The sound of Evriam's voice jolted Mags from her reverie.

"Oh, come on! This is all a set up! Can't you see I'll snap in half before we get to the arena!" exclaimed a voice from the sixteen year old section. It belonged to a girl who Mags thought might indeed snap in half. She was skinny, but not a skeleton due to malnutrition. She looked like she might run, might even outrun the Peacekeepers, but she paced determinately towards the stage, handling herself confidently, knowing no one was going to volunteer. Mags recognized this girl, one of the rougher ones of the district. She wore the bandana she nearly always wore and a spotted dress that made it clear she would have preferred to wear pants. In it Freida looked even skinnier than she usually did. Mags had been in school with most of her older brothers. Maybe they'd trained her on the side. Perhaps she had a chance, Mags told herself, after all she hadn't cried like so many people still did and had shown she certainly had a temper and wit about her. Maybe that would win her some sponsors right from the get-go. Mags stole a side glance at Excelcia to see if she could read her thoughts, but she still wore the same unreadable smile that she always did; what else could Mags have expected.

"For the boys, Perseus Witham." Evriam announced.

"I volunteer!" a deep voice from the 18 year old section called forth with great confidence. Mags definitely saw Excelcia's smile widen as a chiseled 6' 1" young man emerged and strode towards them. His charming smile lit up the stage as though he was born to stand beside Excelcia.

"And what is your name, young man?"

"I'm Ibrahima Abdulai," Mags shuttered. She knew that name too. The boy had only been two years behind her in school and had always been likeable. She waited for him to crack a joke to match the smile that he wore.

"Excuse me, Ms. Link, may I say something very quickly." Evriam stood aside and allowed Ibrahima access to the microphone. "District Four, it will be an honor to represent you this year as your male tribute. And, as my farewell to all of you, I have an important question. Why did the skeleton not go to the party?" Mags cringed, wishing Evriam had never given him the mic. "It had no body to dance with."

"So you think you can make jabs at my size!" Freida erupted. The look on Ibrahima's face made it clear this wasn't how he intended his ill-timed joke to go over. "Wait till we get to the arena! We'll see who's dancing then!" Freida spat at him, looking like she wanted to tackle him to the ground right then and there.

"District Four, your tributes for the 18th Annual Hunger Games!" Evriam announced hastily. "Shake hands you two," she commanded, her voice channeling every authority figure who is on their last nerve; patience was never Evriam's strong suit. The two tributes obediently shook hands, each seeming to squeeze a bit too tightly to the other. Maybe they were already in the games, Mags though, as the doors closed behind each of them.

Freida Vasey 16

"He's the first one I take down," Freida muttered to her brothers as they all hovered around her. Of the five of them, one or two giggled, which was a win in her book. Her father, Ammadeus, looked stern and distant as he had since he entered the room.

"That was a rotten spot of luck," their father commended. He was trying to be brave, trying to set an example for everyone in the room, but he was failing, so Freida knew she had to be strong for him. It couldn't be easy, seeing his only girl sent off to the games.

"Hey, I've got a chance, you know," Freida objected out of sheer habit. It was what she had always done when her father begged her not to do something her brothers were doing; he'd learned long ago that he couldn't rein her in with strict discipline.

"I know you do, Freida. It's just . . ." Ammadeus's voice broke and there was silence in the room. None of her brothers knew what to do. They'd always been there to protect her, to be by her side if she needed them. They were used to the idea of her getting hurt, but in the past it had been their fault. If they wrestled too hard and she broke an arm it was their job to explain to their father why his baby girl needed to be taken to the medic, or why she was wearing long pants or long sleeves in the heat of the summer. They may have always gotten her into trouble, but they'd always been there to get her out of it too.

"You know I'd go in for you if I could," Boone chirped up and their father retreated towards the back wall, collecting himself. Freida mentally sighed; although well intentioned, Boone, her closest brother always had the worst timing and the biggest mouth. Normally she loved him for it and would laugh at his indelicacies, but this wasn't a time for laughter or cover ups. It was a time for her to focus on the six reasons she needed to return. Their father needed his baby girl. Since his wife had died in childbirth with Freida he had clung to her as a last remnant of his marriage and had spoiled her as much as a single father could spoil his only rose. She had her name, her looks, and her wit, or so she'd been told by Everett, her oldest brother, the only one who truly remembered their mother with any clarity. He'd been eleven when she died, and now, at 27 was the most awkward fitting into the family structure. At the reaping, Freida was sure he'd been concerned about his own children, barely sparing a thought for his sister, who he was certain could handle herself. Then there was Ivaril, three years younger than Everett. Whenever she saw him it seemed as though she was looking at herself, her brown eyes matching his. Silas was the middle child and always the wisest, his grey eyes always able to defeat Freida whenever they would fight and his intellect a match for hers. By the time she returned he would complete his schooling to be one of the District's healers. Then there was Argon, her second oldest brother, not the strongest, but the most determined, the one who would never go easy on her and who was usually the one responsible for Freida's injuries. His flaming red hair matched his temper.

"You'll come back halfpint. Say something," Boone's voice pierced the silence. He was always impatient and the only one in the family who was uncomfortable with silence. Hence his ill-timed tongue.

"Of course I'm coming back. You lot wouldn't make it a day without me. Try to hold it together until I'm home."

The customary knock at the door and it was time for them to leave. Everett secured her bandana around her neck and then they were gone, leaving Freida in silence.

Ibrahima

It was empowering to have both Znadia and his father in the room. Both had known this was coming, so they'd be able to avoid the hasty, emotional farewells. The only downside was his father was giving Znadia the skeptical look he always did. Ever since she'd broken up with him a couple of years ago his father didn't really know how to quantify their relationship. They were friend, Ibrahima told him insistently. He would always shrug and roll his eyes; ever since Ibrahima's mom had left him he didn't think of women as people to befriend, but rather people to ignore.

"I know you don't need me to coach you, but choose your allies wisely," his father reminded him. "That's about the only thing you haven't had practice with. You'll have the pick of the bunch, so don't be too eager to make too many friends. Remember, there's only one alpha dog." Ibrahima rolled his eyes; everything always had to do with his dogs when his dad was giving advice since dog training was his expertise.

"I have something that I want you to take with you as your district token," Znadia said, her eyes lighting up in that knowing, teasing way they always did. The ring on her finger glistened in the light as she brought something from her pocket.

"You should keep that," he protested, instantly recognizing what she held. "I gave it to you for a reason."

"I want you to have it, so I know you're thinking of me in the arena," Znadia insisted, holding the diamond out. It glistened in the palm of his hand as he bore its weight. It felt as though he was holding the weight of their relationship, of how much he had loved Znadia from the moment he set eyes on her at the tender age of twelve, to the weight of their relationship now, having been romantic and now not. Did she think that was why he had volunteered for the games? To impress her or win her back? She was a huge part of his life, even now, but that wasn't why.

"Will they let you take that in?" his father questioned, always the voice of reason. "It could be chucked at someone as a weapon."

"Please, I can charm them into letting me do anything." The door opened to announce the time. "Hey Znadia, how can you tell if this gold is a fake?"

"How?" Znadia asked, her radiant smile beaming at him.

"Leave the room and see if it talks trash about your other jewelry." She laughed and that was the last sound he heard before the room was put to silence.