Author's Note
I do not own the Hunger Games.
Hortensia Chrysalis, 18
Would the Fiftieth give her more of an advantage or less with her strategy? So long as she made it through the bloodbath, it could be good. There would be so many players she could slip by unseen. And once she was in the arena she could could get by with keeping her head down.
But wasn't there something about poison during the Fiftieth? That had been before Hortensia's time, but she was sure there was something to do with poison. Pretty arena, but – poisonous? How much harder would that make it? She'd get nothing from the land around her, she'd have to be aware of any of the programmed animals sometimes thrown in there. She could take supplies from the other players though. Set traps, kill the other players, take their gear. That ought to give her the food she needed.
She twisted her hands together, feeling them shift in the sensory gloves in her pod. The advertisement had promised something special, and they'd delivered.
On stage, the escort was announcing the boys, Apollo Gilmore and Charisma Blush. The first had fading blue hair and a faded false tattoo up his face, but there was muscle under his brown shirt. The other was tall and slender, but had a certain dumbness to his grin. She'd have no threat from them. The two shook hands and displayed themselves to the crowd, to the echo of raccous applause.
This meant she was next.
She waited impatiently by the partition as they called out – not her name. Another, younger girl that pranced up to the stage. Then it was her, her name ringing out loud and clear. Hortensia smiled as she stepped up to the stage and took her place in the line with the other three tributes.
Showtime.
Artemis Gilmore, 17
Four was fine, but it was far too hot. The sun hammered down on them from the blue sky above. Would it have been too much to ask for the programmers to give them a few clouds? Artemis fanned herself with one hand as she waited through the other female tribute, some mousy creature with brown hair, being announced. One would think she'd at least dye her hair, do something with that appearance, but whatever.
She thrust her hand into the air and called to volunteer a second fucking time – how annoying, but a novelty – before heading up to the stage. "Artemis Gilmore, here to be third time Victor."
"Oh, for fuck's sake!" came a shout from further back in the crowd. Artemis scanned it and picked out Luminescence Sterling's face and that gorgeous platinum hair of his. She wished hers was that colour; she'd never need to dye it pink. Something the Sterling clones had that she and her brothers didn't; naturally beautiful hair.
"Oh, hi Luminescence!" she called as the escort began his speel for the boys. "Guess we're together, huh?"
"You're going fucking down, Gilmore!"
Artemis put her hands on her hips. "Would you like me to?"
"I'm aiming for you," he muttered as he stomped onto the stage.