Very few people in the Capitol remembered the stories from before Panem.

It was by design. Anything before Panem was inherently flawed, not worth talking about except to decry for their backwards behavior. It was one of the crimes of the Districts, attempting to drag the people back to a less enlightened time. That part of the past was best left forgotten, the Capitol insisted.

But there were still some who remembered. Who whispered in secret of old stories. They weren't exactly the same stories, distorted as they were through time and toil. But the bones of the stories were passed down by those who chose to remember. That before Athena was a name, she was a goddess of war. That arachnids were named in honor of a simple weaver who tried to challenge that goddess.

That there was a world beyond Panem. That people could challenge those in power. That sometimes, people succeeded.

People who sought to draw wisdom from those stories, learn from the mistakes of the past, and share them with others, called themselves Lorekeepers.

Seneca Crane's mother had been one. Lilia Crane was a beloved children's author, entertaining the capitol with her entertaining yet unthreatening stories. She saved the real stories for her children, hoping they'd learn.

Little Seneca learned. But not the things she expected.

When she told of Arachne, who was hanged as punishment for her hubris, Seneca saw a woman skilled enough to challenge a goddess and won eternal glory in response. Even those who had never heard her story skill invoked her when they spoke of arachnids or used her name without knowing where it came from

He and his mother had many heated discussions about these tales (behind closed doors, of course). Yes, it was sad that Hercules lost his family at the start of the tale, but it was that tragic event that drove him to complete the trials. Jason may have lost everything after his adventure when he spurned Medea, but he found the Golden Fleece. Wasn't that what really mattered?

Lilia Crane didn't see it that way. She liked to call him her Icarus, always flying too close to the sun.

It was ironic how she had been the one to fall.

In Panem, even in the Capitol, loss was common. Most people died forgotten, easily brushed aside when they weren't deliberately buried. Seneca wasn't going to be like that. He was going to make a mark on the world like no other.

The best way for anyone to do so in Panem, be they Capitol or District, was the Hunger Games.

The Hunger Games were the ultimate embodiment of Glory in Panem. Even those who fell were immortalized in the tapes, the interviews, the museums. And those who won received the highest honor any District citizen could receive: the title of Victor.

If Seneca had been a child of the Districts, he would have been a tribute, trained and deadly, before fighting, bleeding and killing for the chance of eternal glory. No matter his District. Seneca knew there was no version of him that would accept a slow death or a mundane life over the chance of immortality.

But since he was Capitol born, he had a different fate. It was not for him to directly claim victory. No, he would be the one who made victors.

The Head Gamemaker

The Storyteller.

The one who decided who died, and who alone had the chance to live.

The journey certainly wasn't an easy one. The sheer power and prestige of the position of Head Gamemaker attracted many people. Petty, unworthy people who were more infatuated with the idea of power than possessed of any ability to use it.

Seneca was smarter than all of them. He worked. In the shadows, and in broad daylight. With subtlety and brute force.

Intern.

Assistant.

Gamemaker.

Head of Tribute Affairs.

Then finally, the opening came with the disaster of the Seventieth Games. What started as a fascinating game exploring the physical and psychological limits of tributes ended with a third of the field drowning and a "mad girl" as Victor.

Chaos reigned among the Gamemakers. The Head Gamemaker, executed. The Head of Arena Design and most of his subordinates, gone. All due to a flaw in a dam, and a badly placed earthquake.

(Seneca had always preferred heroes who made their own luck. And while it was a dangerous game he played, so were the Games themselves.)

There were others who wanted the title of Head Gamemaker. But none who wanted it as badly as him. None who were willing to go to the lengths he did to make it happen.

Two arrests and a death later, Seneca had his prize.

Not that his work was done. It had only begun.

The success of the Seventy-First Games, with its vicious, unexpected Victor proved his worth.

The following games continued his momentum.

But all of this was just a prelude. A Prologue, as his mother might say. Just preparations for his true greatest achievement. His Magnum Opus.

The Seventy-Fifth Hunger Games.

The Third Quarter Quell.

He had the perfect canvas. Practically unlimited resources. All of Panem as his audience. Perhaps most crucially, he had the support of the President.

Only one piece remained.

The perfect tributes.

The brilliant, fascinating, dynamic, unexpected, characters that would be at the center of his story.

Traditionally, stories began with "Once Upon a Time."

His perfect story began with a card.

To reflect that the rebels cowardly ambushed those who believed themselves safe, the tributes for the Seventy-Fifth Games shall be reaped from the nineteen year olds of the District. And the reaping shall take place two days following the reading of this card.

Be careful, little Icarus. Don't fly to close to the sun.

You never know when you might fall.

AN: Hello, Hello, Everyone! Welcome to the Show!

I am Stargirl94, a longtime reader of fanfiction, first time SYOT-er. I came back here recently, fell into the rabbit hole of Hunger Games stories and SYOTs, and became seized with the ambition to write my own!

So here we have the results of a Seventy Fourth Games where the Mockingjay never flew. Where the Rebellion is still waiting patiently for their opening, and Seneca Crane lives to turn the Third Quell into a spectacle like no other.

Starting out, I am asking for a maximum of two tributes each. Depending on how much attention this gets, I may open things up for more submissions, or create filler tributes.

I'm planning on having two or three more prologues to elaborate on the situation going into the games, so if you would like to simply reserve a tribute and wait for more information, that would be fine.

The Tribute Submission Form is located on my profile. Hope to see you soon!