Miall Piscot- Res D1M

On the evening of the last day of training, I, along with Havelock Grimm and Caio, snuck up to Ember's room, having convinced Lottie to ask her for a meeting, which she agreed to after our argument that it would be "really funny". With what we were about to do (as we'd explained to her), it wasn't at all a lie.
Havelock rang the doorbell as we huddled together like six-year-olds plotting to steal cookies. The door cracked open and we all tensed.

"Oh, hey-" Ember's face, half-hidden by the cracked door, displayed an impressive range of emotions. "Oh... you're not Lottie."

"No, we're the Ember Steiner Ex-Boyfriends Club," Caio announced. "Got a minute?"

Ember slammed the door.

"Aw, come on," Havelock said, knocking loudly but not angrily. "We're not mad, we promise. We just wanna talk."

The door slid open a crack, tethered by the chain lock. Ember's guilty eye peered out.

"Promise?"

Ember's cheeks matched the bright red sofa as we sat circled around on the sofa and two chairs in her sitting area. "So, uh... what's up?" she asked.

"So, which one of us was the best?" Caio started off with a bang.

"You said you wouldn't ask that!" I protested.

"Oh, yeah. I did," Caio smirked, as Ember squirmed.

"None of you were the best!" Ember finally managed.

"But one of us had to be the hottest," Havelock said.

"Oh, that was Miall," Ember said.

"Not," Caio said, sneering at me while I glowed. Big strong guys like to be sexy, too.

"None of us know what we want," Ember started. "Not at our age. Yeah, I've had a lot of boyfriends, but it was because I was figuring out what I wanted. Like you," she said, looking at me. "You were so sensitive and gentle. If you took care of Priscilla I knew you'd take care of me."

I didn't expect to have to push back tears. So long my life had revolved around nothing but killing people. It felt kind of nice to see someone value something else in me.

"For you, it was how fun and level you seemed. You seemed like someone I could really raise a family with," Ember continued.

"And me?" Caio butted in impatiently.

Ember hid her face in her hands. She bent forward, stalling for time.

"You were wearing really tight pants," she finally finished, her voice muffled behind her hands.

"Always," Caio crowed.

"You're gonna get varicose veins," Havelock said.

"Meenah will love me anyway," Caio said.

I'd hardly said anything. None of us held any of this against Ember. It was more of a silly play-fight than anything else. Ember could have as many people as she wanted and that was fine, since she hadn't lied to any of us. Caio barely even counted, since she'd only flirted with him once or twice before the Games started and she got close to Havelock. I did have one question, though.

"Would you do it again?"

Ember smiled, her cheeks warm rather than red. "Every one of you."

"Hold on," Havelock said as we were bustling out the door. Ember paled. "Isn't there one more ex of yours here-"

"NO THERE IS NOT!"

Valerian Mercury- Circle of Life D2F

It was hard to find Akari apart from her allies. I finally managed to get to her at some crazy "team-building dinner" Ava had insisted on for "District spirit", like we would all join hands and be friends and not kill each other. I got the idea- in the Academy they always said if we couldn't win, we should do what we could for our partner, so Two's credibility would still shine- but most of us hadn't even met. If anything, we were each other's biggest enemies, since we knew what the others got taught.

In between the floor games no one was touching and the table full of tabletop games were Ava was mournfully sitting, Pray pretending to be interested so she wouldn't be entirely alone, I found Akari sitting alone on a couch with a plateful of little bite-sized desserts on her lap. The room was plenty loud, what with dozens of very loud Careers lounging about, so I didn't feel as self-conscious as I would have. After some painfully fake small talk, I got up the courage to say what I really wanted to.

"You ever feel like you let people down?" When Akari gave me a dirty look, I quickly corrected myself. "Not you in particular, but just, all of us, since we didn't win the first time?"

"Yes, thanks for reminding me," Akari said. She shoved a cookie in her mouth and didn't seem to enjoy it.

"It just sucks sometimes, people thinking so much of you. I mean, how Galba picked you to come back, and how Pray trained me," I said. I was starting to think she should have picked someone else.

"Most of it's luck anyway," Akari said, less bitterly than I would have expected.

"That sucks," I said. "Why do we even train, then?"

Akari shrugged. "I just did because I liked it. Getting picked was a bonus, honestly."

I did like training. Even if I hadn't gotten picked, I would have looked back fondly on my years fighting and practicing and all that. I learned a lot, really. If I hadn't gotten picked, I still would have had that going for me.

"I guess," I said.

"It sucks not winning, don't get me wrong, but hardly anyone does. Just one person a year, you know? One person, out of the hundreds of us who train for this. Even if I didn't get that top one spot, I was still in the top six out of three entire Districts, you know? That's pretty cool."

"That is pretty cool," I agreed. Akari's breezy confidence was already rubbing off on me. Top six, out of thousands. Pretty cool. Still sucked about dying, though.

Katrina Moonshadow- Let the Good Times Roll D7F

Ferrari was my best friend, but sometimes I still needed time alone. She did, too- I wasn't the only introvert in the world. Even people who loved people still needed some time to just sit alone and think. The moments came naturally, whether one of us got called to a meeting with our mentors and took a little time after, or one of us turned in early and the other stayed up late. It was one of those nights as I lay in bed on top of my blankets, looking out the window and wondering how warm it was outside. Everything in the Games center was perfectly controlled. Rain, wind, sun- it all felt the same. Outside it might be a chilly night, or one of those stifling nights were you wish you could run around in your underpants. I wasn't really alone, though. Like everyone else here, whenever no one was around, I was thinking of the Games.

What would they be like? This was a Resurrection Games, when so many of the rules went out the window. It was the most likely time for there to be guns in the Arena. I liked to think that would be a game-changer for me, but I'd made that mistake before. Gun skills didn't transfer to bows, and just as likely, skills with the modified short-range buckshot guns the Peacekeepers allowed wildlife cullers in Seven wouldn't transfer to the high-power guns the Capitol had. I'd never even touched a Peacekeeper's weapon- that was a good way to get shot, even if you were just a curious kid. Then again, the rifles in the western Games were even worse than mine. Still, it was frustrating it had happened then. Guns were so vanishingly rare in the Games. If there had been some so recently, there likely wouldn't be any more for maybe decades. So much of the Games boiled down to random chance, like when you happened to get Reaped.

One other thing was bothering me. My biggest strength was my firearm skills, and almost certainly it would mean nothing in the Arena. My other skill was something I'd always feared. Ever since I saw how people treated my mother, I'd feared how my body would betray me once I hit puberty. I'd seen that once men liked the way you looked, that was all you were to them. When I started looking more and more like her every day, I used to try to deny it. I'd smear mud on myself, or cake on ridiculous makeup in clashing colors, or wear giant, floppy hats. All the same, far too often I'd hear the comments. But here, it might be my biggest chance at staying alive. We all say we'll do anything to win. Would I do that? I could get sponsors- so many sponsors. Supplies for me, and supplies for Ferrari. Was it fair not to, when she would benefit? It really wasn't fair at all. People would save one life because someone had big eyes and shiny hair, and leave someone else to die because ugly people are worthless. I could profit from that, but it would mean playing into it. Wouldn't that make me ugly?

Soren Lyte- Res D4M

I had no idea where to start looking for allies. The only thing I could think to do was start with my District partners. There were more than a hundred of us in the Games, and we were a wildly disparate group. At least people from the same District had one thing in common.

The dark-haired girl looked wickedly strong. How lucky we'd gotten that year, Reaping someone like her. It was a wonder we hadn't won. The way she was running circles around her sparring partner, it seemed like she was made for this.

"Hi," I said, waving as I caught her after her match. "I'm from Four, too. I was thinking some of us could group up?"

She tilted her head back just so she could look down her wrinkled nose at me. "Why on earth would we want you?" she asked, dripping with scorn.

"Oh... sorry," I stuttered. I turned and left, since I was clearly unwelcome. What's her problem?

"Hey, I thought some of the Fours could ally," I said to Laken. I thought I might have better luck with him since we'd crossed paths a few times in the Four lounge.

"Sorry, not you, little guy. You're not even trained," he said, almost sympathetically.

"Sure I am. I've been working on edible plants," I said. What did he mean, not trained? We'd all been here the same amount of time.

"Academy trained, bro." Laken paused. "Wait, did you not know?"

"Know what?" I asked.

"You notice how most of the Fours are jacked or just generally look like they eat nails for breakfast?" Laken asked. "We train, bro. Since about year twenty, Four trains its kids- not all of us, but enough we have volunteers. None of them are going to want to ally with you."

It just got worse and worse with each word. I stood there shocked, unable to even accept it. They volunteered for this? They trained to kill? We trained to kill? All our talk about our real enemy and all our bereaved families, and they wanted this?

"How could you?" I almost whispered. I'd talked to Laken so casually. I'd been talking to a murderer?

"Some of us, so the others aren't in danger. Most of us, for the money," Laken shrugged.

I turned and left, not trusting myself not to say something I shouldn't. That was why so many of the lower Districts seemed so weirdly good at the weapons? I'd thought One was just rich, so they had rich hobbies like fencing, and Two was just strong because they carried stones. And my own District, I'd thought we were just lucky. We weren't lucky. My District was damned. I would never ally with any of them.

Hadley Kinneth- In Your Hands D6F

I wasn't like most of the people here. I didn't mean that like I was super special, or that I was the main character and everyone else was just in the background. There was something horrible about me that kept me from even trying to mingle with the others, much less find allies. Most of them probably didn't know, though I found myself nervously looking from face to face. The truth was, I deserved this. I'd volunteered.

How stupid I'd been. I'd thought I could bring a better life to my family. I'd thought we could all be together, not living apart just to make ends meet. I'd thought I could help us. I only ended up tearing us apart. How could I think that my parents would want a bigger house more than they wanted their daughter? They were dead by now- from work if not from lung cancer. My brother was the only one of us left, and over and over he was required to watch me die again. For the rest of all their lives, I had brought my family pain.

Almost certainly, I would die again. Weirdly, there was some sort of lightness in that. Fear so often meant something bad might happen. Having already made peace that it would happen, I didn't have the crippling anxiety that would have kept me from training. I could pragmatically consider which were the best skills to have, and who I should most avoid in the Arena, because it felt so much less real. It was like I was play-acting the Games, just pretending I had a chance and behaving like I did. Some part of me must have believed, or I wouldn't have tried at all, but I was resigned enough that I could be clearheaded.

Even as I built little fires or wove grass into rope, my thoughts wandered back to Six. There was one bright part of my choice, and it kept landing on my mind like a butterfly. I'd volunteered for the Games. It hadn't been my name called. I still remembered whose it was. Tikket Brown had brown hair and brown eyes, just like her name. She'd been sixteen years old. When they'd called her name, she'd cried. I'd only seen her on that one day, but I remembered all that about her. I'd checked the Tribute lists and she wasn't on it. She'd made it, then. Somewhere out there, Tikket Brown was living the life that had almost been stolen from her. I wondered where she worked, if she'd married, if she had kids. Was she happy? Was her life full? I hoped it was. She didn't owe it to me, but I hoped it was. All the moments I would never have were hers. I wondered if she ever thought of me.

Flint Kentye- No Way Down D2M

Some people thought letters were ancient history. E-mail was faster, they said, or the myriad other even faster and better methods we had. But there was just something different about a letter. It was the permanentness of it. To write a letter was to take a real piece of the world, and write your thoughts on it, and give it to someone to have forever. They could hold it, and turn it over, and feel where your pen dented the paper. You couldn't edit it or delete it like a virtual message. It was your thoughts in that moment, permanent.

Dear Aston,
Miss me? But of course you did. You've probably been wailing in despair since the moment I died. If not, very uncool. I miss you, of course. Everyone else, too, but they were really more of coworkers, you know? You and I were really friends.

How's the gang? I didn't see anything when I looked through the news feeds, so I guess that means you were neither ostentatious enough to make a scene or dumb enough to get yourself destroyed. You didn't let Cassus take my spot, right? I was very clear on that. He is extremely short-sighted and I don't care what he tells you, he has not changed. No, wait, let him have it. Then whatever he says, do the exact opposite. You'll be fine.

I miss you, bro. I could get together some allies here, but it's just not the same, NOT that that means I want you to volunteer and get yourself killed, too. I just miss you. It's weird never having sleepovers. The beds here are about ten feet wide and what's the point if you don't have a friend with you? It feels WEIRD not cuddling. PS, I hope you found someone else for all that stuff. I don't want you to have to sleep all weird, too.

If you want to know the real truth, this is way scarier than I thought. I thought after all the gang stuff this would be easy. It's not exactly harder, but it's hard in an entirely different way (heh heh, that's what she said). No regrets, of course- I am but your loyal bodyguard, constantly ready to throw myself in harm's way for beloved and well-paying boss- but this royally sucks. Don't get Reaped. Just don't. Especially because I won't be able to volunteer for you this time.

I folded up the letter and tucked it into the envelope, though I didn't seal it yet. I wasn't sure if I wanted to send it. Mostly I'd just wanted to write it. Ash wasn't here with me. Even with everything on my mind, I missed him every day.

I checked Soren's story and he was in a Games restarted longer after they'd been dormant, so he hadn't trained. In order to match him to this timeline, I conjectured he would be from a very early Games.