A people without knowledge of their past history, origin and culture is like a tree without a root.

- Marcus Garvey

Iopian Endovnier, District 11 Mentor:

As I chomped away at a turkey and mayonnaise sandwich that I had prepared for myself, I tried to think about my tributes' situations. None of them seemed as if they would be definite victors... But maybe they had a chance. My score was a mere six, and yet I still won the Hunger Games. If I was going by that logic, 'Nate' would stand a chance of winning... If she didn't blow it for herself the moment she decided to switch places with her twin brother. As for Willow, she didn't have much of a chance of winning unless she played the cute card well and toughened up naturally after the Bloodbath. But chances are both of them would be dead soon. Metsey and Spyglys were both extremely skilled and died under my tutourage. Petunia and Broson less so, but all in all they seemed more promising than Willow and Nate.

I had to try and change that.

I quickly made my way back into the kitchen. In the background I could hear the sound of Nate showering. Willow was lying down, watching the first Games Jynx Blackthorne was part of – a very old Games indeed. The 170th Games played before us, one of the most iconic moments in Hunger Games history. Jynx Blackthorne pinned down the District Six girl, Grace Krane. Grace was a master manipulator and trap master, despite her weakness everyone thought she was set to win the Games. Jynx was a skilled Career, but was yet to become the famous killer she was known as today. The eleventh day of her Hunger Games would be that day.

Jynx and her ally, Glint, had fallen into Grace's trap with a fake wire controlled sponsor gift. Grace used her wire traps to make lights from the gymnasium collapse. Sadly, one had crushed Jynx's ally's head. It was the final eight, and Grace had recently lost her ally. Jynx was enraged, like the master Career she was she avoided Grace's traps without thinking before pinning Grace to the floor.

"You're as evil as I am!" Jynx screamed in Grace's face, slashing at the girl's chests as insults were shrieked out in agonising pain. A twisted, macabre expression came across the famous Victor's face as she looked Grace in the eyes. To Willow's horror, she saw Grace's chest was clearly open, her heart clearly shown beating underneath her blood matted ribcage. But the girl was still alive. "You lost your ally, didn't you Grace? You knew what that felt like. Like getting your heart ripped out of your chest. How about I show you how that feels, one last time?"

Grace screamed in the worst agony as Jynx seized her heart, tearing it out of her chest as blood dripped down her wrist and onto her body, soaking her as the Six girl's screams were immediately silenced. It was one of the most iconic moments in Hunger Games history. I noticed how pale Willow was, and sat next to her as dramatic music blazed in sync with the sound of Nate showering.

"You don't need to watch that," I said, approaching the couch, kicking my feet up and relaxing.

"I know, but I can't help but... Well... Will that happen to me?"

"No!" I paused. "No."

"I always avoided the Hunger Games," she frowned. "I didn't have any qualms with them... weirdly... but I just... Was never into them. I kind of wish I was now, maybe I'd know what to expect." She glanced at me. "What exactly happened in your Games? I've practically lived with you for five days... Maybe six days." She frowned. "You're the victor who won with brains, who is now dependant on sleeping medication if he ever wants to sleep at night," her mentioning my dependency stung. I was an insomniac, even though I hated to admit it. "You're also incredibly clumsy probably because you walk with a slight limp." I did walk with a lot limp, true, but I actually 'accidentally' knocked over or spilt water on objects in the quarters because they were bugged. After being here four times, I knew where the Capitol liked to place their cameras and microphones, and was confident I had destroyed all of them. "But how did you become that person? I mean, you're in your twenties and you have age lines, greying hair and unruly stubble."

I sighed. "You want to know the story of how I became a victor?"

She nodded.

"I guess to know that," I started. "You have to know my backstory. I was eighteen years old when I was reaped. I had a mother, a father and a girlfriend. I still have my parents, actually." Usually the Capitol assassinated members of a Victor's family, but I kept quiet and obeyed. "It was only four years ago. I looked the same as I do now... Less rough, I guess. My job was to sort through berries in the import station to make sure no poisonous herbs or berries ever made it to the Capitol. It gave me enough to live. I planned to move out with my girlfriend on reaping day so we could start a family of our own, but that day... Well... I was reaped.

Naturally, that changed everything, but that isn't part of the story. I wasn't a weakling, I guess, but my pre-Games didn't go miraculously either. I was an apple for the chariot rides. I got a score of six in training, though I guess that was much better than my District partner, Orchard, who was the sweetest girl I'd ever known, but got a training score of two and was twelve. Naturally... Orchard didn't last very long, but I allied with her quickly because she was kind.

The Bloodbath came. It was a rainforest arena, nothing special, but there hadn't been one in years and to my happiness I could see most of the food sources in the arena were fruit, berry and herb related. The remaining Bloodbath was pretty brutal – the Careers were all extremely powerful, and killed seven tributes amongst themselves. As Orchard and I ran away, she was beheaded by the Eight girl, who seemed just as powerful as the Careers. I was alone.

I'd gotten good at tracking streams, and I found one in the rainforest. Eight cannons fired due to the Bloodbath, and when I woke up the next day another cannon followed. I turned around and saw that the Ten boy, Zephyr, had been hit by a spear... It had buried itself into the head thanks to the Four girl. She looked regretful at what she had done, and her and the One boy had managed to corner me.

"Get him, Ariel," the boy said. "While I hunt some berries."

Ariel trembled as she readied the spear. While the boy went towards the berries, I stopped him.

"You do know they're poisonous, right?"

"How can I trust you?" He spat.

"Because it was my job back in the District," I explained. "If you don't believe me, fine. We'll have one more corpse when you eat them."

I wasn't lying. And I think the girl and boy both knew that. She was relieved she didn't have to kill again, and though they did it violently, they dragged me along with them and she convinced him to let me join the alliance. There were so many berries in the arena they thought I'd be useful on trips out. I'd be the one whose job was to make sure the Careers wouldn't be poisoned.

The Two boy, Cicero, wasn't pleased, but he kept his mouth shut. Apart from that, I kind of bonded with the rest of the Careers. Particularly Ariel, who had spared my life. We talked through the night and into the next morning, and even though I was amongst killers I felt secure. On the third day another cannon fired... And then that was followed with the Careers tracking down and mauling the District Nine boy. I watched them all together, including Ariel, tear him into tiny pieces. It was awful.

And I realised I had to escape the Career alliance.

Varnish, the One boy, went hunting early the next day and took me with him because he usually foraged. I knew it was the perfect opportunity to poison the Careers, and picked some berries which I knew were poisonous... That was a big mistake, really... Varnish recognised them, because they were the berries I had prevented him from eating days before. In a fit of anger he shoved me to the ground, and as he unsheathed his sword he was caught up in flames that narrowly missed me. A chemical explosion.

I was covered in his innards, and saw the District Three boy behind him with chemical vials. The boy kept launching the vials, which would create powerful craters, but I weaved in and out of the trees to avoid them, watching as they emitted ear-splitting noise and green flame that rose above the rainforest. Ariel had saw everything from the distance and helped me escape, and we made our way back to the Career alliance with those poisonous berries in hand.

Cicero, the Two boy, hated me, naturally he accused me of being the one who killed Varnish, but Ariel defended me until the very end because she saw that I hadn't killed him. She was actually a sweet girl and tried to calm Cicero down by saying she'd make a nice soup the next day to help us get over Varnish's death and celebrate us making it into the final twelve. I helped her prepare everything: the herbs, berries, meat and fish. It was going to be quite the stew.

Ironically, as the Careers went to sleep, two of us were always given watch. The night before it was the Two girl, Metella, and Varnish. Today it was Sapphire – the One girl – and I. To my relief, Sapphire fell asleep as day four struck. I replaced the edible berries Ariel set out with the poisonous ones. To not appear suspicious, I woke Sapphire up straight after to tell her she had fallen asleep on guard.

I was tired the next day. I watched sleepily and silently as Ariel prepared the soup, crushing the poison from the berries into it. I had befriended her, and as I pretended to drink the soup she set out I considered telling her of my plot. But it was too late by that point – all of the Careers... Barracuda... Metella... Sapphire... Even Ariel... They all gripped their throats and began to choke. Cicero, always cunning and suspicious, refused to drink the soup in the first place. He was still alive.

He screamed threats at Ariel and said he knew she was a fake Career all along as he watched his allies froth at the mouth and writhe on the floor. But, to my utmost guilt, Ariel had also collapsed and her skin turned blue. Before Cicero could figure out who the true traitor was, I picked up an axe from the supplies and launched it into his head. His cannon fired and his blood covered me. Moments later, four other cannons fired. I felt guilty. I had killed – and killed someone who trusted me. I always remembered that last look Ariel gave me. It just seemed to ask me haunting questions. Why did I do this to her?

Despite my guilt, I was relatively happy. I had all of the Careers' supplies and weapons, so from then on I knew I wouldn't have to worry about starvation. Through afternoon and evening I began to search for the original stream I stopped at before the Careers caught me. I didn't find it until the sixth day, the only day in my Games which was devoid of deaths. It had gone stagnant. The Gamemakers were trying to starve or dehydrate us out at this point.

But I was comfortable. That night I ate a feast to myself with plenty of water. I could light a warm fire with a screen which prevented the flames from producing smoke. I could stay in a warm tent which kept out the cold. It was like a camping trip back home. I kept this sense of luxury on the seventh day, where there was one death... It was the District Three boy who had killed Varnish on the fourth day. I later found out, after the Games, he died screaming and beating his head on a rock. He was starving with no supplies and ate the corpse of a deer he stumbled across. But that deer was infected by a flesh eating parasite. Naturally, he suffered a long, gruesome end.

I went to bed realising not every tribute was comfortable. And woke up realising it when my tent started melting around me. As I escaped it, I realised there was acid rain so strong it melted everything. Most of my supplies had been reduced to a puddle on the floor. As the rain burnt at my clothes I realised it was highly acidic, and barely managed to grab a backpack and knife before running off. I followed the stagnant stream in the hopes of finding a pond, trying to keep sheltered in the most dense areas of canopy. But slowly they were also melting. I ran for around two hours, running especially fast after hearing a cannon.

About an hour after the incident I stumbled across the disfigured, pooling corpse of the Seven girl. She was so small and young – fourteen at most. I forced myself to run forwards and not vomit. As the rain burnt at me and made me stumble near unconsciousness I found the pond I had hoped for and launched myself into it.

Everything went black and a cannon fired. It was like being asleep for a second, but I woke up and it was the ninth day of the Hunger Games. Thanks to the cooling effect water has, most of my burns had been reduced to minor burns bar the ones on my leg..." I gestured to my leg. "Hence my limp. My backpack was full of soggy food, but in the final four most people had near nothing to eat. I ate for a small while, the meal I don't remember due to it being bland, and as I wondered how I made it into the final four a cannon fired. And I realised I made it into the final three.

Twenty minutes after my shock, I noticed a girl walk close to the pond. She hadn't seen me, and I barely had enough time to limp and hide behind the tree before she spotted me. I remembered her dreadlocks, her stone cold face and her katana. It was the katana that beheaded my District partner, Orchard. And that girl was still alive, cleaning her bloody sword in the water casually as I observed her. Then she purified the water, bottled it, managed to find some invisible tracks and followed them.

I was pretty scared. She was skilled, like an average Career, but much more smart and cunning than one. And I had escaped her for a second time. But as I saw the District Nine girl's face in the sky, I realised I couldn't keep running or hiding.

I fell asleep, and once again was woken up by danger again. A screaming girl, maddened by her trauma in the arena, was pinning me down to the floor and screaming insults at me. She desperately tried to stab me, but I was awake... and stronger than her. I managed to hold her off, though it was a very close brush with death. She even managed to stab me in the shoulder. If she hadn't screamed... Well, I wouldn't be here today...

But she did, and I was awake and alert. She lost her stealth advantage, and I managed to reach across for my knife. Desperately, I shoved her forward and jammed my knife into her eye socket. She didn't even have time to scream as her eye was reduced to a river of blood that spurted out of its cavity. Her corpse fell on top of me and I lay there, terrified. Not just was I in the final two, but I had killed again. And it was still just as difficult as I remembered. I think I cried... I couldn't remember if I vomited or not. But I'll always remember how I felt.

I managed to sleep for a few more hours, drenched in blood. When I woke up, I limped around the arena for a small period of time. Then, out of the blue, two alligators came out of the shrubbery, glaring at me with those eyes. One of then had Orchard's gentle dark eyes. The other's scales were blood tinted, resembling Ariel's hair. I tried to conceal my shock, but I knew the Gamemakers pulled this trick every year. As they growled, I turned and tried to run. I ran as fast as I can, even though the burns on my legs throbbed.

The chase was extremely brief. I knew they were leading me to the deadly Eight girl. As soon as I reached a clearing where she was, they stopped chasing me. She had obviously been chased too. But she didn't even run; in fact, she was removing her katana from an alligator that resembled her now dead District partner. She glanced at me once with that cold indifference.

"You're here," she said, wiping blood on her trousers. I was shocked she spoke; I'd never seen her speak. Not in training. Never. "I don't know why they sent these stupid things to round us up. I could have tracked you myself." I didn't speak. "I gotta say, of all the people I thought I'd be facing, I didn't expect it to be you. I expected it to be someone difficult. A Career or something."

For the first time, I spoke. "I killed all the Careers."

"Is that so?" She snorted, readying her sword. "Well then, lets see if you can kill me!"

She struck. Her blow was so strong and quick. Even though she was metres away from me, in that one second she was in front of me with her determined face. Somehow, I blocked it with my knife, but she knocked it away and slashed at my calf." I laughed, though it turned into a sigh. "Didn't really help with my limp.

The pain was unbearable. I can't remember if I was on the floor or not, but I remember that I thought I was going to die. That's when the Eight girl screamed. An alligator had leapt up and tore into her shoulder. She was quick to kill it, but it had bided me time to stabilise myself and do what I could do: run.

While alligators swarmed around the Eight girl, who was barely hurt, Orchard and Ariel's alligators turned and chased me. They had been programmed to get at me all along. With my calf gashed and my leg generally badly burnt, I did not have a speed advantage. I managed to distract them with my bag of food, which I didn't need anymore due to the fact it was the last day. They stopped to savage at the food and I spotted something – many trees had been damaged by the acid rain, but one was damaged at the bottom. I noticed its structural weakness. So I moved over to it, shoved it and watched it collapse on the alligators. They gave a cry of pain as it crushed them... Whether it killed them or not, I don't know.

The Eight girl had probably killed the other alligators that had targeted her. Her cannon didn't go off. There was no point fighting, she could easily win. There was no point running, she could easily catch up. I walked over to the strongest tree, thinking that if I had any hope, it was climbing. District Eleven had ensured I was a naturally good climber, but with my injured leg it had taken me forever to get to the top of the tree and settle into it. Everything was pain, and as blood kept flowing out of my calf I knew I was fading because of blood loss.

As I tore off my sleeve, preparing to make a bandage, I glanced down and noticed the Eight girl was there. The only wound she had was the one on her shoulder, bloody and brutal. The way she looked at the ground carefully before stopping underneath the tree told me she had successfully tracked me down. And now, if I hadn't acted soon, she would kill me.

Suddenly something floated down and landed at my feet. I hadn't received a sponsor gift yet, which was funny, because I would've thought I'd be sponsored something before final two, and it was so late into the Games sponsoring was near impossible due to the massive inflation of the prices. The sponsor gift was weird too – a heavy, black weight. And then I realised my escort, as stupid as she was, had devised a clever sponsoring plan. She knew I could make it until the final two and had hoarded every penny until the moments I needed that money most – now.

I realised what I had to do – what she wanted me to do – instantaneously.

"Hey!" I called down to the Eight girl. "I'm over here!"

"I kno-" The girl glanced up at me and barely had time to shriek before the weight slipped off the tree. There was a horrifying crunch as it smashed into her brain.

I knew I had done it. I had won. Breathing out a sigh with relief, and feeling dizzy with blood loss, I carefully climbed down the tree, almost slipping off of it numerous times. The Eight girl was still alive, twitching on the floor as the weight lay in a pool of blood. Her skull had concaved so much I couldn't see her right eye, which had probably imploded with the pressure. Half of her facial structure was completely inverted. It was the most disgusting sight in the Games that I had seen... And I looked down at her so coldly and indifferently.

"You deserve that," I hissed. "You killed Orchard. A thirteen year old. A kid. No doubt you killed so many others."

Her breaths were shallow, but she responded. "A-And you didn't kill?" I paused, and her next words filled me with a sickening sensation unlike any other. The only way I could describe it was like the feeling of dread you get when you know something bad will happen but a thousand times worse. So bad the bile burns at your throat. "Well, when my toddler is older, I can only hope for one things: that he don't be no hypocrite like you, Iopian Endovnier."

My name was her last words. Soon afterwards, she died. And whether it was in dizziness, blood loss or guilt, I succumbed to the blackness. When I woke up I was, to my extreme shock, the victor of the Two Hundredth and First Games."

"She had a kid?" Willow asked, horrified.

"Yes..." I paused. "He'll be five now, I believe. His father abandoned the girl, whose name was Rayon, when she was pregnant, and her kid now lives with the girl's parents. I wanted to offer money, but the Capitol wouldn't allow it. I can't sleep at night because all I can imagine is what that toddler is doing, or how I ruined his life." I stood up and sighed. "And then there's other things that haunt me: Orchard's scream as Rayon slashed her neck, the guilty look Ariel gave me as she slowly lost to the poison... The guilt, the confusion, it lost me my girlfriend, it lost me my ability to sleep at night."

"You almost make me want to lose the Games."

"It hurts," I glanced at Willow. "But you have to do it. Sometimes I think it's better to live like this than to not live at all... Regardless of the pain. The point of my Games was to tell you that strength doesn't mean anything. Just take every situation and bend it to your advantage like I did. Be resourceful. Don't be afraid to be ruthless, there's plenty of time to be guilty later," I frowned. "Anyone can win the Hunger Games if they learn that it's a game, that they can win, and that they have to come first if they have a chance at survival."

Willow nodded.

"Now go to bed, Will," I smiled weakly, ruffling her hair. She got up and moved towards the kitchen, pouring herself a glass of water as Nate walked out of the bathroom, harshly drying her hair with a towel. She probably didn't notice the instant hair drying device attached to the bathroom wall.

I waited for Will to pass through the corridor and close her bedroom door behind her.

"I hope you heard my advice too, Delilah," I said as she moved towards the doorway.

She froze. I didn't see her face, but knew terror would cross it. "What?" She said, turning around and adopting that voice which had actually become convincing over the past few days.

"You can fool the Capitol," I smiled. "Difficult as if may be, and as clever as you've been... But you can't fool me. I do my research. I've noticed Nathan Fauve's hair was much neater at the Reaping than it was compared to how you looked pre-styling," I grinned. "I knew Nathan had a twin called Delilah. I researched his heart condition and found aerosol fumes don't affect your breathing, that was bullshit made up to avoid the styling process." I shrugged. "I put two and two together, even if your act had improved significantly as each day went by."

"You can't say that," Delilah said as I walked across the room to a cleaning cupboard. "This room is bugged."

"Was bugged. I cleared it. I know where the Capitol place their things, over the few days I identified their hidden cameras and microphones and would break them, pretending I had tripped... Spilt water... Done something."

"How do you know you haven't caught them all?"

I gripped the handles of the cupboard and flung the doors open. Delilah glanced at the Avox who lay unconscious on the ground. "This is Jenni. I didn't want to kill her, I'm not a brute," I smirked and glanced at Delilah. "The Capitol don't have human rights protection on Avoxes. They wouldn't punish me for killing or kidnapping her like I've done now, but they'd send someone to retrieve her, if this room was bugged they'd know where to go. But it isn't, which was why they're searching every other District's quarters in an attempt to find her." I sympathetically patted her head. "When they find her, I'll make up some bullshit story. If you didn't know, I'm good at making lies... And detecting them."

I turned around to Delilah.

"Do the Capitol know?"

"I don't know for sure."

"They'd kill me if they knew..."

I laughed bitterly. "They wouldn't kill you. You're on a death train. And a tribute has never sneaked into a Games by switching gender before... They'd see it as the entertainment opportunity of the century," I smirked. "But they will find out eventually. You could slip up, or they could analyse the DNA sample they took off you while you were in the train, or when you die and they look at your corpse to do an autopsy..." I sighed. "No. You haven't been caught yet. But you will be. You know that right? And who will be punished?"

Delilah turned pale. Tears started to flow down her eyes. "My family."

I nodded serenely.

"And there's nothing I can do?" She moved to the couch. "I knew this would end badly as soon as I made the decision... I'm so stupid..." She squeezed her eyes shut, forcing tears out. "So so stupid. The first thing on my mind was just making sure Nate didn't die. But in the process... This is going to affect us all..." She burst into tears, her body shaking with sobs. "What am I going to do? What am I going to do?"

I paused and then hurried over to her. "Delilah... Please..." I helped her stand straight, smiling sympathetically. "Do you have a name?"

"Lia," she sniffled.

"Lia..." I paused. "Your family are safe. But their time is limited. Who is the only person who can outsmart the Capitol?"

"Not me," Lia gave a tearful chuckle. "I wish I knew that... B-But you can. You have."

"And I will again," I paused. "I have friends who work in the Panemian train service. They transport cargo. And sometimes, if they're given money, people." I paused. "I also have friends in District Four... I say friends... But they're more..." The media had branded them as terrorists the past few days. But I only saw them as rebels. I wasn't a part of their movement, it was too risky, but I sympathised with it. I funded it. "I use their services to transport money to Rayon's – the girl I killed in the Games – to her son. I can also use it to smuggle people... It's risky but..."

"But?"

"You came in here to save your brother," I paused. "And I can't guarantee I'll save your life. But I will save his. So stop crying, okay?"

Contrary to my command, Delilah sobbed even more vehemently. She almost collapsed into my body, and I managed to hold her upright. I knew those kind of tears; she was sobbing with relief. But she was also sobbing with fear. She was well and truly scared. And I would be too. She threw herself and her family into a dangerous situation, and unlike them she had no chance of a lucky escape. I held her close for a few seconds and she continually sobbed. The tears she had repressed for the past few days had flooded with her catharsis.

"I'm just so scared," Delilah wailed. "I-I'm going to die. And I know it'll be okay if Nate survives, but I'm scared Iopian... I'm scared..."

"So am I, Delilah," I said, glancing at Willow's bedroom door. It had been left slightly open and I noticed she had been eavesdropping all this time, following my advice and controlling every situation to make it her own. Those wide eyes glanced at me, and when I nodded at her she nodded back. I knew she wouldn't be telling anyone Delilah's secret anytime soon. "So am I."

Portia Rhymes, District Four Escort:

Interview day was always my favourite day! I enjoyed knowing that I could help my tributes. When it came to the chariot rides I could only give them a basic guideline on what to do, when it came to training I didn't know anything about that weird stuff but with an interview I could train them to become professionals in no time. All my tributes have successful interviews, and this wasn't going to be any different. I could tell them how to walk and how to act before setting them with a dazzling stylist! Wonderful.

It was approaching noon, and I had them in the long corridor of the District quarters. Honora had brought a bottle of wine with her. She wasn't one to drink. I mean, all her life she had been put on an extremely strict diet, but it seemed like today of all days she was letting loose, pouring out glass after glass and downing it whilst she frowned at the bitter taste. Ross, usually the more nonchalant one, had become more determined than ever since he had been booted out of the Career alliance. Following my directions, he strutted down the hallway with elegance and sexiness.

"That's right," I said as he approached me with a wide smile, just as I instructed. "The cameras will love that! Now tell me what you have to remember?

"Good balance, good poise, good gait," Ross repeated back, as if he was part of the fashion military. He stopped when he arrived at me and then turned around, grinning and striding down the corridor again perfectly. "And smile," he added as a forethought.

Honora found his words hilarious. She laughed, beads of wine dribbling down her mouth and looking scarily like blood. After coughing, to stop herself from choking, she glanced at Ross maliciously.

"Seriously?" She laughed again. "Wow, I always thought you were a fag. Turns out I am right."

"Honora, I do not accept derogatory remarks under my roof," I chastised.

"But you're honestly not in control," Honora took another sip and glanced at me menacingly. "Portia, I appreciate the kindness and the help, I really do. But you're no leader of me. You're no leader of anybody," her words struck me with fear. I couldn't help but feel as if there was truth to them. "The only thing you are is the puppet, part of the prettiness to distract the audience from their lust for blood," she downed the wine again, clumsily pouring another. "I tried accepting your niceness. I tried pretending I was cut out for all this stupid stuff. But I don't need it, I've trained my whole life for this!"

"But that's not enough," Ross said, about to pass her as he strode down the corridor. "The Capitol's petty whims determine whether or not you are-"

I didn't even see it happen. Honora was so ridiculously fast even Ross, a fellow trained Career, didn't stand a chance. His stride was knocked in a flurry of limbs as she gripped his jaw and slammed his head against the wall, her wine glass and bottle lying on the floor and weeping its contents into the white carpet. I stepped forward to stop her, but also paused. I was a plumb, short woman who had never fought or exercised in her life. I didn't stand a chance. But I couldn't call the Peacekeepers and risk Honora's life.

"I'm not a nice person," Honora said, pinning Ross to the wall by his mouth with one hand. He struggled, but couldn't muster the strength to break out of his District partner's iron grip.

"I figured," Ross said, ceasing his fight. Interestingly enough, he didn't look scared.

"I'm selfish, angry, uncaring, vindictive, and if I don't get what I want you can bet on me to pull a temper tantrum," from the slurring of her words, I could tell Honora was clearly intoxicated. "But do you want to tell you one of my good qualities?" She leaned forward, Ross was probably able to smell her alcohol-fused breath. "I don't break my promises," she yanked her hand away and Ross slid to the ground. "And I promise you, Ross Deverell, that I will jump off that plate the moment the gong rings and go for you. And you will not be able to beat me. I promise you that you will die," she turned around and laughed. "And then I will chase the pretty little One girl that you were so willing to protect, the one you've been staring at, and I will rip out her spine."

"No you won't," Ross stood up and rubbed his jaw. "Because I now know that you don't have the personality of a victor. And Lexie is smarter than you are."

I expected Honora to lash out again, but she was surprisingly calm. "Lexie? On a nickname basis now since you were both outcast for being weak and stupid? Sweet..." She frowned. "Do you know why I can't stand her? Stupid bitches like her and the Capitol... they..." she contemplated. "They have it so easy. They get private education, healthcare, get to stay in their own District no problems, are respected and not assaulted by men in the streets, don't have to guard themselves from the rest of the world..." She shrugged. "Well, we'll see just if Lexie's cute, skinny pretty little ass will get her out of the Bloodbath, right?" She smirked and strode away, leaving the earth trembling behind her.

"She's going to be drunk for the interviews," Ross said as I tentatively approached him, touching around his jaw. He didn't flinch.

"They'll force Clearol down her throat, it will eject most of the alcohol from her brain," I told him, smiling. "The Capitol are pretty good with that kind of stuff; it's great to party and get sober in the next ten minutes!" Ross and I both laughed. "You're not flinching, but your jaw is bruised?"

"It's nothing," Ross denied. "Honora isn't as strong as she thinks."

"You can do it, you know," I smiled warmly, stepping back to observe Ross. He was tall, skinny and pale, not your average Four male, and he wasn't quite like other Careers; he was more vicious than boys like Krindle in the two-hundred and second Games, but much less brutal and determined than Ross, my male tribute last year. He was interesting. "So, we need to find you an interview strategy. Honora's already sussed it out; just blood. Sadly, it can be an effective strategy, but you are going to charm the pants out of people."

Ross laughed hysterically, though I didn't know why. "I think I already have, Portia."

I smiled back, moving away so that Ross could step back out into the middle of the corridor. "Then do it again. You'll be surprised, but a good personality can be more useful than a sword. So, here we go, we're going to learn how to walk in such a way the audience will know they have their victor when you stride onto that stage!"

Marukilla Ambumzilla, District 3 Escort

Escorts were always busiest on interview day: first we had to teach our tributes etiquette and grace, then we needed to discuss an interview strategy, and last we'd ensure they made it safe and sound to hair and make-up where they could be styled so they look wonderful for the Games! If that wasn't difficult enough, the recent addition of including a live, televised event so that sponsors could see our tributes' personalities in action - without the bloodshed - was something that had to be prepared for too. And then we had to get them to bed for the big day tomorrow, the Games.

It was weird to think I wouldn't have my tributes much longer. I'd had them for almost a week. The arena loomed closer by every second, and tributes knew that, but nothing was more surreal to them than the moment they'd finally step in that plate and be launched up into their artificial world where they are most likely to die. I was the District Three escort, and we hadn't had a victor in over a decade. As sweet as my tributes were, I didn't think our dry spell would become wet once again this year.

We were discussing personality and interview strategy, and like every important moment, I had given it a Japanese theme. The Avoxes had emptied the room bar a singular oriental table, where a large mug holding lots of green tea dominated it. Surrounding it were numerous pillows. I readied my kimono, giggling as I called out to my tributes:

"Elizabeth! Trojan! In now, dears!"

My two adorable tributes came in. They were both around the same height. Trojan had eye-catchingly red hair, cunning eyes and a small frame. Elizabeth was a little taller than the average girl, was of some different ethnic heritage or another and had the dark eyes and hair to prove it! And, of course, I had ensured that both of them were dressed up wonderfully for our little chat. Trojan wore a blue kimono like me, because everybody knew boys wore blue of course. And Elizabeth was in a pretty pink one, because she was a girl!

"Well... this is... cultural," she mumbled.

"You both look wonderful!" I squealed, pouring some green tea into two of the tiniest mugs I had ever attained. Elizabeth looked nervous, probably because tomorrow morning would be the well known Bloodbath. Trojan, however, just looked generally disinterested. "Interview strategies are really fun, and I know you're nervous. Not just because of the interviews, but because there's a relatively big chance you'll be dead in twenty-four hours time," I sighed, finishing the tea pouring. Both of them sat on the pillows. "But it doesn't matter! Because there's nothing green tea can't fix."

"This is stupid..."

"Trojan!" I sighed. "You're not being very co-operative here! I am your escort, the one responsible for giving you a wonderful public image."

"I'm not about the public image," Trojan glanced at me. "I want to be forgettable, not difficult when you're from District Three," he glanced at Elizabeth. "Sorry to break it to you, but you do know why I think all these tributes giving themselves high scores, looking great, giving themselves a good profile... they're stupid," he took a sip of the tea. From the look on his face, he didn't like it. He set the cup down. "Forgettable people are usually just bloodbath bait. The weak aren't forgettable, because they're clear targets. The mediocre are at a strategic advantage. Sure, most of them go out there, die and are forgotten, but some forgettable people, the ones who avoid the pre-Games circus, aren't targeted in the Games. They prove themselves and get their sponsors in the Games. They strike from the shadow of the unknown. Before you know it, that forgettable, underestimated tribute has claimed victory."

"Ooh..." I smiled, removing pad and pen. I chewed the pen slightly. "Well, I like your idea Trojan, but forgettable is just... a very... forgettable interview angle. I know!" I scribbled my next words down in extravagant, curled writing. "Dark and mysterious!"

"I am not dark and mysterious," Trojan growled.

"Not when you tell me your interview angle," Liz interjected, taking a sip of her tea. "I mean, I now know that you plan to strike from the shadows."

"You wouldn't tell anyone," Trojan rolled his eyes. "And though your score was impressive, I don't count you as a threat anyway."

"No?" Elizabeth smiled. "No biggie. I mean, I could always tell Tear, who could tell her District partner... and well, you know him, he wanders around and he could tell anyone he-"

"You won't tell anyone," Trojan glanced at Elizabeth menacingly. "I like you Liz. I don't want to kill you."

Elizabeth looked a little taken aback. She hadn't received a death threat before... naturally, she had avoided the Careers, because death threats were quite common in the pre-Games. Trojan faced away from her, looking a little guilty. And Liz looked a little shaken. Liz could handle a sword... I saw her do it, her score was higher than Trojan's. But I felt as if Trojan had underplayed himself in front of the Gamemakers. And now I was kind of getting the whole shadow theory, because something about Trojan had shaken Liz up.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be a jerk," Elizabeth sighed. "The pre-Games tension is just getting to me a little bit."

"Don't worry..." Trojan frowned. "I'm sorry for telling you I'd kill you."

"So, we have Trojan's interview angle," I crossed out my previous words, announcing the next. "Forgettable! Hardly... eye-catching, but maybe we have something you can work on to make up for it, Liz. I mean, you did get a wonderful score! So fire suggestions at me! And don't worry if you don't have suggestions because I am totally thinking you will rock being the cute but angry-"

"I think I have one," Liz said, casually.

"Oh?"

"Well, we all know of the stories of how America died, nuclear warfare obliterated every government and regime," Elizabeth said, reciting the history words everybody knew. "From the ashes of America rose Panem, from the rubble of Europe rose Romantia, from the ruins of Asia rose Macoa, and from the flames of India and the Middle-East rose Krisana..." Elizabeth paused. "Everywhere else now barren wasteland."

"Your point is?" Trojan asked. He didn't act it, but I guessed he was interested.

"Naturally, none of these four super countries have really mingled, wanting to avoid the war and destruction that happened when the last super countries went into war..." Liz frowned. "But there are still problems. We never learn about these other countries, but we hear whispers, Macoa is supposed to be a network of many communities that work together for the greater good, Romantia has developed into a world that... well, a world we could only dream of... a world where people elect their leaders, a world where everyone is allowed healthcare and education and where everyone flourishes-"

"Not as good as Panem," I interjected, somewhat irritated. Here in the Capitol, we heard much different stories about Romantia and their flawed democracy system. They were in economic turmoil, because the people were - as all citizens are - too stupid and indecisive to elect a leader. They elect different leaders with different views instead of a strong, pure, capable leader like President Nystalgia. Naturally, the country ends up in turmoil.

"... Right..." Elizabeth paused. "This is only conjecture, though. But my grandfather was from Krisana."

"What?" I gasped. "But how did you come to Panem? Diplomacy is unheard of... we don't speak to other countries, never mind accept their visitors!"

"My grandfather didn't talk about it, much, before he passed away," Elizabeth said, taking a sip of her tea. "Most other countries united over a common heritage: all those in Panem were Americans, all those in Romantia Europeans, all those in Macoa were Asian, but there was a divide in Krisana. They were made up of two peoples: the Indians and the Arabs. When they first raised their new country, they lived in peace. But the Indians were frustrated when the Arabs began to create an Empire; it violated their belief in democracy. But the Emperor, who wasn't elected, believed that Krisana was a land which only belonged to the Arabian race. He also envied the Indian sector of Krisana, because it wasn't devastated by the nuclear disaster of the old civilisations and was abundant in resources. He captured the Indian people, he rounded them up and began a mass genocide." Elizabeth frowned. "As I said, none of us know what is happening in Krisana, or what happened to the Indians, but rumour has it the Emperor killed every single one of them. Millions if not billions of people."

I gasped once again, only this time in horror. "That's so awful... I mean, thank goodness we live in Panem where none of this stuff happens, right?" I tried to ignore glares from Trojan and Elizabeth. "So how did your grandfather survive?"

"He was a rich merchant, his family were all captured and killed, but he sailed away. He sailed for weeks upon weeks before coming to Panem. They accepted him because he had so many riches to offer. He came out of Krisana rich and into Panem penniless," Elizabeth sighed. "But he had lots of kids, and here we all are. For all we know, we're the last surviving Indians in the whole world."

"Wow!" I clapped, scribbling down a good few notes. "Sob story, unique persona and boring history stuff for documentaries! Is that your plan? The Capitol are just going to eat that right up!"

Elizabeth smiled as I grabbed for the teapot. When I tipped it over, I sighed. It was empty.

"Well, we'll work on acting out these wonderful interview strategies once I get us more tea!" I smiled, standing up and bouncing out of the room. I think Trojan laughed at me, but he was a silly District boy who didn't understand culture anyway! As I left, I heard an unpleasant snipped of conversation:

"You spewed out so much bullshit," Trojan said. "I believe that this whole Indian genocide thing happened, don't get me wrong, but your grandfather losing his family and wealth? Sailing for weeks upon weeks to get to Panem? That's made up, isn't it?" There was a laugh, and I think I heard them talk enthusiastically about this lie. I tried not to judge or be dismayed. Lie or not, that piece of information could very well make Liz collect her fair share of sponsors!

Edoire Gazette, District 7 Escort

"Marina, Talonya, Gretchen!" I rushed into the styling rooms, where multiple stylists flocked around hurriedly, usually brandishing some kind of accessory or make-up. "The interviews are in fifteen minutes! I hope Hadley and Conifer are almost ready!"

They looked almost ready. Both were lying comfortably on chairs, two people surrounding them. With Hadley it looked as if someone was sewing something into his arm sleeve. He was glancing at his reflection in the mirror emptily. A lot of tributes had reacted like this: some people aren't destined to be victors in the Hunger Games, because sadly there are losers. I could usually identify the people who would definitely die. Not by their score or their bravado, but by their reaction to the prospect of going into the Hunger Games. Some were hollow like Hadley, some would cry all the time and some would pretend to be okay even though their extreme nervousness showed as the Games loomed closer. Sadly, Hadley was the hollow variety. He would stare out all day, if not out a window at his own reflection. He wouldn't even say a word.

Fortunately, Conifer was a lot more lively. She had also calmed down, and wouldn't verbally abuse me quite as much! I think she was still angry at me, and naturally the Games had injected some element of fear into her, but at least I could still see life and fight in her. She sat in her chair, paste covered her hair and had tin-foil glued to it. I smiled and waved at her lightly as I entered. She caught my actions in the mirror, though didn't react to them. It seemed as if she was still angry at me. No doubt she blamed me for throwing her into a fight for the death. Well, if anyone was to blame it was her ancestors for biting the hand that fed them!

... I mean, that was over two-hundred years ago... and maybe it was weird to still punish people for what their ancestors did two-hundred years ago... but if they didn't do it, Conifer wouldn't be suffering, so it was still their fault and her anger should be directed towards her great-great-great-great grandparents or something!

"Well, the interviews are very soon," I told the two happily. "They are always the best parts! And hopefully we will get you ready in time, and then you two will go out! Do you remember your interview angles?"

"Sweet, yet sarcastic," Conifer replied.

"Exactly," I smiled, facing the numb boy. The stylists were now making some last minute adjustments to him. "And yours?"

"Be myself... I guess..." Hadley started.

"No," I frowned. "Your interview angle is to be deep and philosophical and to say things the Capitol won't comprehend so they think you're smart and sponsor you, remember?"

He sighed. "That's if I can manage to not appear shy and stupid. It's easy for Capitolites, or people who can just... talk to others. But for me... it's not that easy. Talking to people isn't a chore, it's just terrifying, I can't even talk to Conifer without feeling intimidated... no offence..." He trailed off for a second. "And now I just sound stupid... I always sound stupid. I guess the only thing I want to be tonight is polite. If I can just overcome my stage fright, that will be a success for me."

"Do you know what I pretend to do?" Conifer said. "When I get nervous, which happens a lot by the way, I like to pretend that the people in front of me are nervous too. Maybe they are. It kind of helps, knowing that people may feel how you feel."

"I'll try and do that," Hadley smiled, though Conifer was facing directly opposite and wouldn't have been able to see it. It was the first time I had seen Hadley express some form of happiness in a few days. As his stylist moved away the sheet that concealed his outfit with a flourish, I observed Hadley's outfit as he slowly got to his feet, glancing down at himself nervously. He actually looked really good. His formal suit was brown and a dark shade of green, similar to the colours you would find in a tree, and green sequins had been sewn into his tie so that they appeared to be fresher leaves growing over the deadened ones.

"How do I look?" He asked nervously.

"You look..." I paused, deciding to be honest: "Really good! I mean, don't take it to heart Hadley, but you're no supermodel. But the stylists have managed to make you look like one!"

I think that compliment was somewhat backhanded, but Hadley smiled anyway. A stage manager strode in, shouting commands at the stylists hurriedly, before slamming the door behind her. It seemed as if it was time to go. The stylists washed something off Conifer's hair, and as she stood her gown fell down, autumn leaves that had been stitched into her dress cascaded down beautifully, her hair styled to look precisely like them. District Seven were usually severely under represented in the Games, but my tributes looked great!

"Maybe you do have a chance after all," Conifer grinned a little at Hadley.

Sadly, I knew that the Games weren't so simple. If they were, wouldn't the victor be extremely predictable? What scared me about the Games was that it was almost impossible to tell who the victor was. In a sports competition it would be the most promising athlete. In a fashion contest it would be the one with the best outfit. In a battle of wits - say chess or sudoku - the smartest, or the one who had won the most tournaments prior, would be the one who would seemingly win and in reality television competitions such as Seven Capitolites and a Nystalgia, the most popular, likable contestant would win. But in the Games, all those elements were thrown in, making a probably victor difficult to predict.

And there were other factors that contributed to survival, too. Someone from District Four had a much higher chance of winning in a water based arena. Someone from District Seven would usually flourish in a forest like arena. In mountainous terrain, those from District Two could climb and smash their way to victory. And as well as arena and terrain, general luck in general was a deciding, if not most important factor that would determine who would live and who would die. The iconic catchphrase 'and may the odds be ever in your favour' was crafted for a reason.

But then I realised something: the odds weren't in anybody's favour. If they were, they wouldn't be here in the first place.

I am so frustrated with this chapter! And yet it was one of my favourite chapters to write, but honestly, Iopian and Marukilla's POV were so much longer than Portia and Edoire's POV's. So much for fair tribute representation.

But there was a reason for this: namely, this chapter is myself managing to explain my Universe and it's history to the audience. Marukilla's POV has got the message across that other countries do exist, and the tiniest background about them, and why these countries barely interact with Panem or interfere (considering Panem, you know, commits multiple human rights offences). Iopian's POV was desperately needed. He's been in my stories from the very beginning, and yet of all the victors little is known about him, so I gave you all a backstory and also explained the questions many had regarding Lia - namely, what will happen to her family? How are they pulling this off? How does Lia feel considering her plan was pretty flawed? Hopefully it's consolidated a bit more.

And now my new segment: defending Willow. You're all perfectly free to criticise any tribute, considering they're all flawed characters in one aspect or another, but (in the same way I feel some of the critique's directed against Leda were flawed), some of the critiques directed towards Willow were a little flawed. She is NOT based off Arya Stark. I won't deny there are so many similarities, but I know for a fact Willow is not based on Arya.

Why?

I speak to her submitter a lot (hey Europa!) and being the ASoIaF geek I am (I mean, I've weaved in soooo many references of the series in Hurt or be Hurt), I asked her if she watched/read the series. She hasn't done either. So I know Europa won't plagiarise a character she doesn't even know exists.

That's all!

~Toxic

Question: What did you think of Iopian's backstory? Did you enjoy his Games, and how would you feel about learning about Jynx's three Games in detail?