Hey guys! Welcome to the sixth Reaping chapter! Without further ado, here's Sublime and Milo!

Sublime Winterson

Aged 18

District 1 Male

Sublime sat up stiffly in bed, as posh and proper as ever as he readied himself to face the day. It wasn't in an emotional sense, just in a physical manner to have a good appearance for when he volunteered.

Emotions were a difficult thing to grasp for him, after his accident, it was almost as if he was pretty much just void of them. He had become so much more focused on just one goal though, training to win the Hunger Games. It was what he spent all of his time on, plus what would be the point of trying to do something fun if you couldn't feel emotions like happiness and enjoyment anymore?

Rising from where he was sitting, Sublime drifted slowly towards the door that connected his bedroom to his bathroom. Already having prepared all of the supplies he had needed for the morning last night, the items of his choice were all set out on the bathroom counter next to the sink. First, he would take his shower, then he would do all of the primping needed to solidify his perfect appearance for the spotlight of being the male volunteer for One.

With the water running cold, like he had always taken a shower since it helped with discipline and focus a whole lot better than hot showers did. Sublime scrubbed himself clean with the precision of a surgeon. He supposed his father had taught him well with all of those little things he nitpicked on when Sublime was a child.

Once he was finished, with his skin a pink color from all of his scrubbing, Sublime stepped out of the shower and toweled off. It was crucial to have completely dry skin when dressing, otherwise it would make for damp clothes that would either embarrass him or make him extremely uncomfortable.

After carefully blow drying his hair so no droplets could escape the strands and drip on his clothes, Sublime ran some light hair gel through it, just to get his hair to stay in place where he wanted it.

Taking one last look in the mirror at his appearance, Sublime deemed it acceptable and focused on the next task at hand. He wanted to consume at least something of substance before he went hours without any food available waiting to be sent to the Capitol on a hovertrain.

Allowing his feet to lightly land upon each step as he descended the stairs, he saw that his father's keys were gone off the hook where they hung while Connor was at home, not performing some appearance altering procedure. As he made it to the first floor of the house, he noticed no sign of his mother being awake. She must have been sleeping in, enjoying the morning before her only child's moment of the day.

Sublime decided on an apple, figuring that the fiber would help keep him full longer than a simple protein bar or pretty much any other item in their extensive pantry. He crunched into it, the sweet, yet slightly bitter flavor of it making him want to finish it.

Finishing up his morning snack, he gently tossed the core into the compost bin that his mother insisted on having and headed towards the door. There was no need in grabbing his house key, he wouldn't be back for some time.

He twisted the doorknob open, the well oiled hinges not making a sound as they moved. The door clicked shut behind him with a soft noise and he started on his way towards the center of town. It was a decently short trip, mainly due to the fact that the family only lived about five blocks away from the center of town.

Their elegant, modern home was also very conveniently located near his father's place of work, making it even easier for the family to get around. Sublime would only be walking the five blocks today because his father had already taken the driver and car to work, and Sublime didn't think that it was necessary to call another driver and have his father question him for doing so at a later time.

The slow pace he followed while walking along the concrete path helped slow his heartbeat, Sublime not wanting to appear flushed and overzealous when he arrived at the location of the Reaping.

His location alerted him to the fact that his short trip was almost over, and Sublime slowed down, wanting to take that extra little second of time for himself before entering the fray that he wouldn't exit for at least a couple of hours until they boarded the train to the Capitol. It wasn't as if he was opposed to the crowd's soon to be attention, it was just the fact that he really just wasn't that talkative and he wanted to be liked, not ignored and passed over by the Capitolites watching.

He raised his head, cementing himself in the mindset that he was invincible to emotion and putting that key look of mild confidence on his face. Striding into the open space of the square and entering the line for registration, Sublime boredly glanced around as the line slowly moved forward.

With the line creeping like it was, it easily took another fifteen minutes of shuffling ahead before he was at the front of the line presenting his index finger to the officer processing registration. The woman pricked his finger roughly, but Sublime really didn't react, his pain tolerance making it feel fainter than a pinch.

He was sent off with a wave of her gloved hand, feet taking him to the section at the front left marked off for the eighteen year old boys. Sublime ducked under the partition and squeezed his way through the already growing group until he found a spot near the front that he was satisfied with. Now it was time to endure the wait until the escort started this whole show.

Yet again, Sublime spent another twenty minutes of time just standing there waiting for everyone to file in and for the escort to start on her little speech and present that dreadfully boring reused video once again. Finally, his boredom was interrupted by the purple haired escort, who was very obviously wearing a wig and more makeup than she would claim if asked.

Once she said her eager sounding speech welcoming everyone to the annual event, the video commenced playing onto the screen behind her. It took a short bit to finally end, but Sublime was as satisfied as he could feel, which really wasn't much compared to the average teen his age. Now it was almost time for Sublime to have his moment of glory in the spotlight.

Right, first came the girl, as the escort happily bounced along in her heels to select the name that was pretty much guaranteed to be safe from the Games knowing One's reputation for volunteers in both slots every year. However, one person seemed very eager to keep her from reading that name out loud, probably out of security to volunteer first for the spot.

"I volunteer as tribute!" came shouted from a section in the middle of the girls' side. Some blonde who looked about fifteen or sixteen at the most. Surely that would make for some interesting chatter among the Capitol and perhaps some chaos among the Career pack.

She was cocky about it too, telling the escort, "My name is Goldena Powers, and I plan on being District One's newest victor this year."

This seemed to really please the crowd, who had erupted in applause and cheers at such a young person's enthusiasm to kill. Now, it was about to be his turn to be praised for volunteering for the male slot.

However, he was planning on doing it a bit differently than the girl had done it. He was actually going to be considerate and not make the escort upset with him like she looked now after being interrupted by "One's newest victor".

With the escort approaching the microphone after coming back from selecting a name from the boys bowl, Sublime made sure to have his face in a nonchalant expression, which would make it look like this was nothing to him. Sure, that may have been how he looked all the time, but he had been told that nobody liked the blank stares, so he made sure to keep an easy emotion on his face during public events.

"The male tribute for this year's Games is Clarkson Starlight!" shrieked the escort, who looked a slight bit less peeved now that she had gotten to at least read the name this time.

With a loud, confident voice, Sublime secured his spot in the Games, "I volunteer as tribute!"

He ducked under the partition rope to the front of him and strode confidently up to the stage, legs climbing the few stairs with ease. That confident smirk he had practiced was on his face, and he made eye contact with the crowd as he answered the escort's few questions.

"Greetings everyone, my name is Sublime Winterson and I'm your male volunteer for this year."

Their applause and shrieking cheers drowned out a lot of the other background noises that one could hear if you were focusing your ears on all of the sounds of the Reaping. Making sure to keep that confident visage on his face, he waved to the crowd. Perhaps he could win some supporters over before he was even in the Capitol.

Milo Kirk

Aged 16

District 6 Male

The hustle and bustle of the factory was a welcomed noise at this point, especially after working in such an environment for almost a decade now. In fact, Milo was usually comforted by the clanging of metal throughout the warehouse, but today just wasn't a day on which he would experience much comfort at all.

After today's Reaping concluded, it would mark only two years left for Milo to face such a nerve wracking day annually. There really wasn't anyone else around him that would share this woe, though. He had mistakenly driven everyone his age away when they realized that he was just changing his personality around them to attempt to fit in.

Milo just needed to finish this early morning shift, go get ready for the Reaping, and pray that he wouldn't be the unlucky male tribute from Six this year. Sure, he might could handle it the first few days, but afterwards would be when it would begin to go downhill.

Instead of focusing on the incoming negative stress of the day, Milo chose to put forth his energy into finishing up the line of machine parts he had to move from one side of the warehouse to the other so that the assembly line could add on their final touches. It was crucial to have these parts perfectly identical, so everyone was important in the process of making them.

Based on what he could see lined up on the belt, his estimate was that he would be done in about half an hour. The math he did while calculating for his job was fairly simple, it took about five minutes to move two big pieces, and he had a dozen lined up on the belt, so half an hour sounded about right.

He was glad to admit that he had built up a decent amount of stamina from moving heavy metal items around for so long, so the remaining half hour of his shift went by quickly and without even making him out of breath. Sure, he might have built up a bit of a sweat, but that was normal. In fact, it was even healthy, not sweating could be a serious problem that built up quickly.

Grabbing his stuff out of his station, Milo headed towards the office intent on clocking out and then heading home to wash up and dress in his nicest pair of clothes so that he could look presentable for the Reaping.

Once his card had been swiped and he was officially off the clock, Milo gave the supervisor sitting in a chair behind the desk in the office an shy smile and scurried out the door. God, why did he have to be so awkward around everyone.

He walked on down the dirt road towards his home, staring boredly at his shoes which scuffed along the path and kicked up dirt with each step he took. The walk home wasn't the shortest ever, but he was thankful that it wasn't as long as some of his other coworkers' trips home. Everyday, he would walk the twenty-five minute route that went from his house to his workplace.

It went faster when he wasn't paying attention, only looking up occasionally to make sure that he wasn't accidentally veering off the path and to check for those landmarks that told him where he was and how far he was away.

After some time had passed, Milo looked up, surprised to see the landmark that signified to him that he was only around the bend from the little group of houses his was contained within.

He reached his intended destination after only a couple dozen more yards and opened the door with a twist of his wrist on the doorknob and with a smack to the frame with the palm of his hand. This particular door loved to be frustrating and stick to the door frame. Milo yanked it back into its past position and turned down the hallway to grab his Reaping clothes and drop off his dirty clothes into the little hamper by his bed.

However, just before he exchanged clothes, he turned into the dinky little bathroom and turned on the tap, intending on filling up that little basin that rested within the room specifically designed for holding water for washing up.

Milo rushed into his room, grabbing the items of clothing that were set out on his small wooden dresser and stripping off his outer layer of clothing, tossing such soiled items into the basket designated for dirty clothes.

By the time he got back into the bathroom, the basin was almost full and he shut it off after a moment. Milo took a rag that was sitting on the counter and soaked it, using the cloth to scrub himself down before patting himself dry with the one towel they had.

Then, he pulled on his nicest pair of pants and singular collared shirt, tucking it in once he had both articles of clothing on his person. He might have been rushing himself, but he wanted to have enough time to make the walk and be there a bit early, not wanting to bring any punishment upon him or his parents for possibly being late to the required event.

Padding down the hallway, Milo stopped near the door, grabbing a pair of nice shoes and pulling them on before once again departing. The door slammed with a muted thud behind him as soon as he stepped down onto the sandy ground, about to start his fifteen minute trek in the direction of town.

Just like his journey to and from work this earlier this morning, Milo walked along the dirt road that wound into the outskirts of town, finally transforming into pavement once he passed into the city limits. He did consider it lucky that the walk to this particular destination was about a third shorter than his usual trip to work, it wasn't like he didn't appreciate the exercise, but he really didn't want something to happen that would ruin his best pair of clothes for occasions like this.

It was just another little detail that announced to him that he had almost arrived at his vacation, usually the concrete and asphalt that made up the streets near the center of town looked a lot fresher and more intact than the pavement near the outer circle of the city. This particular little thing was probably due to the fact that the Capitol liked to try and keep up appearances in areas of Districts that they occupied more than anywhere else.

Without even having to turn a corner, Milo came upon the registration line a lot quicker than he expected, and it was short, likely due to the fact that it was still early. Most people wouldn't bother to show up as early as he would, Milo just preferred to go the safe route, not get punished, and maybe have some time to himself to make some more strange little observations.

He swallowed down the nervous emotions that threatened to make their appearance as he approached the table that was occupied by a stern looking woman, which made him rather anxious and uncomfortable. Holding out his hand with an awkward expression on his face, he winced slightly as the woman jabbed him with that hidden needle of hers and jammed his finger down onto a piece of paper. Once she had confirmed his identity and checked him off the list, he was sent off on his way to the section that he would remain in for the events of the Reaping.

Shuffling into the marked off rectangle, Milo selected a spot at the edge, not really wanting to box himself in too much as he wasn't really liked among the rest of kids his age and he really wasn't a people person in general. Over the next half hour, the section started filling up more and more rapidly, which pulled Milo out of his focus on trying to notice some details that nobody had seen before at the Reaping. He just couldn't really function well whilst surrounded.

Finally, after such a long wait, the escort stepped up to the microphone and began the ceremony of torturous assault on his social skills and anxiety.

"... now how about we start our little introductory film!"

A groan was let out among the population of Six that was present, Milo himself included, although he didn't make the noise out loud. It truly was the most outdated, repetitive thing that the Capitol could show them.

It droned on and on, and in all honesty, Milo had learned to zone it out after his first year. It felt like an eternity had passed before it ended, and Milo's shoulders slumped, already mentally exhausted.

No citizen of Panem could match the escort's level of enthusiasm about reaping two kids to die, that was for sure. She seemed like she was almost about to jump for joy when she selected the girl's name and moseyed back on over to the microphone to determine some poor girl's fate.

"Our female tribute for this year's Hunger Games is Annette Martel!," the escort squeaked excitedly.

Everyone's attention turned onto the girl whose name had just been read out loud and she somehow managed to look somewhat confident and collected. Milo would definitely give her some brownie points for that. He knew of many that wouldn't be able to handle the situation from the moment that their name was read, and he truly wasn't sure if he himself was included in that group or not.

His shoulders stiffened as the excited woman approached the boys bowl and joyfully picked a slip. A deep breath was inhaled into his lungs as she came back to the center of the stage where the microphone was located, and he clasped his sweaty hands together in nervousness.

"And now, our male tribute for this year's Hunger Games is Milo Kirk!"

Milo blinked rapidly, his heart pounding as his head worked to process what his ears had just heard. That was his name that the escort just called? Huh?

He must have not looked like he was going to make a move towards the stage, and he turned his head slowly to the side, wondering why there was such a large space around him just before he was grabbed around both arms and pretty much dragged to the stage.

The sound of his fine shoes being ruined by being dragged along the rough pavement finally snapped his attention to the current events taking place. He was about to go into the Hunger Games. God, he was screwed. Milo just hoped that his parents would forgive him, and prayed to some otherworldly force that his death wouldn't tear the family apart just because he was the glue currently holding them all together.

I'm super excited to be able to introduce another set of great tributes to you guys, and I just wanted to give a special thanks to sherazade96 and Pacecca for Sublime and Milo respectfully. I hope I did them justice and I'm super excited to get on introducing the rest of our cast! I haven't officially made a decision if I'm going to do all eleven Reaping chapters or if I want to leave a few and do some goodbyes and the train ride instead. What would you guys want? With that, thank you guys so much for reading and have a great day or night wherever you are!