Hi, everyone! Sorry, I know it's been a while since my last update, but I'm really really busy at the moment; one does what one can. I hope I'll be able to update more frequently, since we're almost done with the Reapings of Love Is the Deadliest Weapon, and it must be said that also Divine Punishment is slowly taking shape. Thanks to everyone who's submitted so far!

Enjoy your reading :)

The day before the Reaping

Logan Prime (18)- Citizen of District 1

I watch Honey, while she's working out in the academy's gym. Since she's going to volunteer for the Hunger Games tomorrow, she has been allowed to train overtime. She's now throwing javelins- which are one of her favourite weapons- against the dummies scattered across the gym. Her curly, honey blonde hair moves like a lion's mane, as she's getting ready to hit the target. Her ice blue eyes sinisterly shine with a predator satisfaction every time she hits a dummy at a deadly point- its stomach, its heart, or its head. Her aim is perfect, I wouldn't trade places with the tributes who will face her and die.

"You don't need to wait for me," Honey tells me at some point.

"Oh, I don't mind waiting, when I'm with you," I reply with a shrug.

She throws another javelin… WHAM… and hits the dummy's head, making it roll around on the floor.

"I dumped you long ago, Logan, why are you still here?"

I sigh. "I love you, Honey. The heart wants what the heart wants."

"But I don't… I never have," she retorts, while throwing another javelin.

WHAM!

"You hurt me, Honey," I say.

Honestly, I believe that being hit by her javelin would be less painful than being rejected by the girl I love. I can't forget her though, no matter how much she mistreats me.

"Don't play the victim! That's how it is! You don't want me to pretend just to please you, do you?"

WHAM!

"No, I don't," I admit.

"If I were you, Logan, I wouldn't waste time with her," a third person chimes in.

I turn around. My brother Skinner has entered the gym. Honey immediately blushes in a quite noticeable manner. Does she still feel something for him? Even after what he has done to her? Sometimes, this thought drives me crazy with jealousy. Why would she love a boy like Skinner, who has only hurt her, and not me, a person who only wants her to be happy? But I've never dared asking her that. She would probably not answer me, anyway.

Honey tries to ignore Skinner by focusing on her exercise, but she misses the target this time.

"You'd better work on your aim," he suggests Skinner with a smirk.

"You don't need to tell me what to do!" she replies, annoyed.

"Well, if you volunteer- and I'm sure you will- your life will be in my hands. You'd better follow my advice; I've been in the Games, you not yet," he points out with an amused smile on his lips.

He's right. My brother won the 72nd Hunger Games. He has certainly more experience than Honey. However, I don't like this superior attitude of his.

"Why don't we let her train on her own?" I offer.

"Good idea. Besides, we have guests for dinner, so we'd better go home," he replies.

We leave the academy. I feel a bit tense. I don't like being alone with my brother, especially these days. We do get along, but our relationship has always been complicated. Skinner is a child prodigy, the son everyone would want to have, whereas I've always lived in his shadow… not that I complain, I don't like drawing people's attention and I'm not the competitive type; actually, the only thing I wanted to beat my brother at was conquering Honey's heart, but looks like I failed. When I told my family that I wasn't going to volunteer despite being eighteen, my parents were clearly disappointed, but not Skinner, he kind of expected that. He thinks that I can't measure up to him, and I agree. I've never wanted to be stronger than him, anyway. However, our parents wanted Skinner to convince me otherwise, they wanted him to train me, no matter what we thought. The atmosphere between us hasn't been exactly serene since then.

"Who's coming for dinner?" I ask Skinner at some point.

"Nobody," he answers with a shrug.

"But you said…"

"It was just an excuse to take you away from that bitch," he explains.

"Don't call her like that!"

"Sorry, lovebird, but that's the truth. Have you got an idea of how many boyfriends she dumped after you?"

"It's your fault, if she's become like that! You have broken her heart… and now… and now she's so cold-hearted and calculating! You shouldn't have left her for her cousin!" I blurt with rage.

"What can I say? Sugar is a nicer girl… sugar is much sweeter than honey, after all," he says.

How witty he believes he is!

"You'll never change," I comment, shaking my head.

…...

The day before the Reaping

Zinc Walstorm (16)- Citizen of District 1

People tend to imagine District 1 as a sort of second Capitol City, a dazzling paradise where everyone lives in luxury. But it's not like that. Poverty exists also in One, and the situation cannot improve quickly after a devastating war. The only… let's say… positive side of being poor in District 1 is that you can take out tesserae more carelessly than in other districts, because you know that there will always be a bloodthirsty idiot willing to volunteer for you, in case you get reaped. I've lost all my family due to the war, so I've needed tesserae to survive. Luckily, I have the help of Tricia, who lives with me now, even though we're neither related nor engaged. We're just good friends. We live in a rented apartment on the outskirts, where you can see only old, dingy block of flats. Nothing to do with the shining skyscrapers of Capitol City.

At the moment, Tricia and I are coming back home after doing the shopping. The sun has already set, but the sky is still light.

At some point, she sighs. "Prices have gone up again. If this goes on, we won't be able to buy even a piece of bread," she grimly comments.

"We don't need much food to survive," I reply.

"Yeah, to survive, but to live…"

"The situation was much worse during the war."

She sighs again. "Sometimes, I wonder… I wonder what life is like in other districts."

"Would you like to move? To leave your home district? You could sign up to the Repopulation Project…" I offer.

To be sincere, I've been dwelling on this possibility myself. President Smith has launched this project to promote demographic growth. It consists of sending people- mainly war orphans and homeless- to the most depopulated districts. For a start, you're guaranteed a small amount of money, which is doubled, if you start a new family. The opportunity to start a new life elsewhere… who wouldn't take it? But If you're an orphan and not yet over eighteen, there must be someone willing to adopt you there. That's why I desisted. Families tend to adopt only small children. Many of my age or even younger tried, but they didn't get the permission.

"I don't want to be adopted, I'd rather start a new life myself," she rebuts.

Looks like Tricia agrees with me. I don't want to substitute my parents just because they're dead. It's not their fault, if I'm a war orphan now.

"You'd just need to wait a couple of years, then. I could come with you," I say.

"But Iron wouldn't. We cannot abandon him. Besides, we might be sent to different districts, and I wouldn't stand that," she replies.

Iron Rattler is one of our best friends. He's an orphan like Tricia and me, but he has gone live with his boyfriend Osmium and his family. I'm pretty sure Tricia feels something for him, but she doesn't dare confessing it, not even to me.

When we turn the corner, I notice that a group of boys is standing right outside the front door of our block of flats. Another boy is on the ground… those cowards must have beaten him. He stands up with difficulty… but it's Iron! Tricia and I immediately run towards him.

"Haven't you had enough, you rebel piece of trash?" asks one of the boys- their leader, I suppose.

"What's going on here?" I shout.

"Zinc… Tricia… go away," begs Iron.

"Oh, looks like someone wants to rescue fatty," comments the leader, amused.

I'd like to punch him right in the face, but Tricia holds me.

"He just got what he deserves," he goes on with a shrug.

"You're no one to decide!" I rebut, beside myself.

"Lucky for him. If it were up to me, all rebels' children would be dead now. Anyway, no one can stop me from teaching him to know his place," he replies.

That said, he looks at Iron in a manner that reveals what he thinks of him: Iron is just a nobody for him. He wouldn't mind if he died.

I take advantage of his momentary distraction to free myself from Tricia's hold and punch him right in the face.

"No! Zinc!" she shouts, but it's too late, I hit my target.

Luckily, some tenants have come out to see what's going on, so the boys flee without reacting. Tricia and I help Iron inside. Our block of flats is an old building with yellowish papering on its walls. In some points, the papering has fallen off or is about to do so, but no one seems to care. It's devoid of elevator, so we have to climb the stairs. We live on the fourth floor. Once in our apartment, Tricia treats Iron's wounds- nothing serious, just some bruises.

"We've told you many times not to come here, that's a bad neighbourhood," I scold him.

"I don't care, you're my only friends," he replies, shrugging.

"Your face is quite known, Iron, you should be more careful," I go on.

"We can call in on you," offers Tricia.

"Yes, mammy and daddy… but you know that his parents don't like you very much," he rebuts.

"Just his parents, or Osmium as well?" she enquires, defiant.

"I don't want to make trouble, that's all!" he replies, a bit annoyed.

"They've accepted you in their house, but they'll never forget what your parents did," I grimly point out.

Blue Rattler- Iron's father- was a rebel commander. After the war, he was executed along with his wife Iridescence, even though she was not directly involved in the rebellion. Like his mother, Iron is innocent, but the society won't forget his roots. It's a burden that Iron will bear for the rest of his life. Today's incident is not serious after all, but something worse could happen, right? In such circumstances, even moving to another district might not be enough to live in peace.

…...

Present day

Honey Valli (18)- Citizen of District 1

"Ladies and gentlemen, I give you the victor of the 76th annual Hunger Games, Honey Valli from District 1!" says the Master of Ceremonies.

I mount the stage, where a cheering crowd is waiting for me. I'm wearing a long dress covered by golden sequins and a pearly diadem on my head. The interview doesn't last too long. I focus on how much I deserved to win and on how proud I am to be a victor for my district. Then, the moment for which I've been waiting so eagerly arrives: the crowning. President Smith places a golden crown on my head. I'm so excited that my whole body is shaking like a leaf.

"Congratulations, Miss Valli," he says with a wide smile.

He seems to be sincerely happy for me.

But seeing the annoyed face of Skinner when he's forced to congratulate me as well is definitely the icing on the cake…

… and I wake up with a smile on my lips. It was just a dream, but it will come true soon. I look around. My room is in a mess. Last night, I emptied my closet, looking for the most suitable outfit to wear at the Reaping. Eventually, I've decided for a short, sleeveless, light pink dress matched with a black, leather jacket, light stockings, and black ankle boots. I don't have time to clean up now. I comb my hair in a simple bun. I want to look both attractive and threatening… in other words, a femme fatale.

I descend the stairs. The house is silent, except for my steps and the ticking of the wall clock in the kitchen. My parents must have left already… as usual. I have breakfast- crispbread with honey, a cup of milk, and some cookies- on my own. I don't mind eating alone, I've got used to it. My parents don't pay much attention to me, but today they will. Today, everyone will keep their eyes fixed on me.

After finishing breakfast, I go out and head to the main square. Once there, I join the other eighteen-year-olds in the front section. As I'm crossing the square, I notice that several boys turn around to look at me. I can't help a smirk. Many find me attractive, but I don't really care about what they think. The truth is that I don't want to think seriously about boys until I win. In the meantime, Zenith Valli- the mayor of District 1, a.k.a. my father- has mounted the stage to start the Reaping. He makes a useless, introductory speech and then reads the Treaty of Treason. This ceremony is carried out in the same way year after year. It's silly, but it's also the first occasion for Panem to see the future victor. After reading the treaty, my father introduces Rika, the escort from the Capitol. She's wearing a simple, black jumpsuit, which can hardly be distinguished from her dyed black skin. Her eyes are blue, the same shade of her curly wig and eyeshadow.

"Hello, District 1! I hope you're all enjoying this wonderful, sunny day, because the circumstances that bring me here are not the best desirable," she says in a normal tone, without the usual high-pitched accent one would expect from a Capitolite. "Once again, we witnessed a terrible rebellion and a terrible war. Once again, we're here to highlight the importance of the Hunger Games, hoping that history won't repeat itself," she goes on- wow, she's not the typical, enthusiastic escort, she sounds almost sad and forlorn.

At a quick pace, she approaches the girls' ball.

"I volunteer!" I immediately shout and proudly mount the stage.

I don't even look at my father. This is my moment.

"A volunteer from District 1, not a great surprise. What's your name?" says the escort.

"Honey Valli. Remember this name, because it will make history!" I reply, ignoring the escort's comment about volunteers.

"I see. A self-confident Career, another predictable thing."

Now it is 100% certain: she wants to get me on my nerves! But I decide to keep quiet, yelling at an escort is not exactly a good beginning.

Without any further ado, she picks up a slip of paper from the boys' ball. "Iron Rattler!"

I know this name, everyone in One does. My district partner is the son of a rebel commander. After the war, there was a great debate about whether the children of prominent rebels should be executed along with their parents. Eventually, they decided to spare their lives. But fate is a cruel mistress. Iron Rattler has been reaped for the Hunger Games, and I'm pretty sure he won't win. They cannot let him win. Better for me, one less threat.

"Does anyone want to volunteer?" asks the escort.

No one answers. Who would volunteer for a rebel, after all?

"Very well, then. The tributes of District 1 are Honey Valli and Iron Rattler! As always, happy Hunger Games! And may the odds be ever in your favour!"

Once in the Justice Building, we part. Each tribute is assigned a separate waiting room, in case someone wants to say goodbye to them. Another silly ritual, in my opinion. If you succeed, you see your relatives again. if you fail, you die, and there's nothing your family can do to avoid it. I'm just wasting my time, no one will come, and I don't want to see anybody. With this conviction, I open the door... but I was wrong, someone has come: Logan and my best friend Cordillera.

"What are you doing here?" I ask them, baffled.

"Goodbyes inside the room," says the peacekeeper at the door.

We all walk into the waiting room.

"I don't want to listen to wailing or to silly demands like promise that you'll do your best," I immediately clarify.

"We came just to say goodbye," replies Logan.

"And wish you good luck," adds Cordillera.

"So, you think that I can't make it myself, I have to rely on luck."

"That's not what I meant," she says.

"You're a great fighter, Honey, but a bit of luck might be good," he points out.

"Please, Honey, don't reject those who still love you," she begs.

Cordillera has always been by my side, no matter how much I've tried to push her away. She can be so stubborn at times, but I must admit that she's one of the few people who haven't disappointed me… not yet, at least.

"Thank you for coming, but seriously I'm fine, I'm exactly where I want to be. I don't need to be comforted," I say, nonetheless.

"We know that you're strong," she replies with a sad smile.

"My brother is unforgivable, but he's not stupid. He'll do anything he can to help you… at least, if he's cleverer than he looks," adds Logan, smiling as well.

Despite myself, I giggle at this.

When they're gone, I'm left alone. Nobody else visits me. After all, I didn't expect my parents to come. If the mayor and his wife visited a tribute, everyone would think that this tribute is favoured, and they cannot let it happen; they have a reputation to maintain. I didn't expect my parents to come, but I cannot help feeling disappointed.

…...

Iron Rattler (14)- District 1 male tribute

I have been reaped. I have been reaped. I keep repeating it over and over in my head, because I can't believe it has truly happened. It was fate, then. My father fought against the Capitol and its cruel Games, he lost, and now I'm going to die due to the same cruel Games he hated. If my life wasn't at stake, I would smile… but it would be a bitter smile, in any case.

The door of the waiting room opens. Tricia and Zinc enter. They're both crying. They know that I have no hope. I'm the son of a rebel, they'll never let me win. We hug.

When we break our embrace, they're still crying like babies. Please, stop…

"Iron…" says Zinc under his breath.

I know what he wants to say. He thinks that he should have broken our promise not to volunteer for each other, in case one of us gets reaped. I'm glad he didn't. If there's something worse than getting reaped, that's seeing your best friend die, knowing that you should have been at his place.

"You don't need to say anything, Zinc," I tell him, patting his shoulders.

He lowers his gaze, clenching his fists, while his body is shaking with sobs. He must feel powerless. "That's… that's unfair… you're innocent, you just wanted to live in peace…"

I put my hands on his shoulders. "There's nothing we can do. But I won't go down without a fight, I assure you!"

"Give them hell, will you?" Tricia chimes in, teary.

"I will."

When they're gone, I'm left alone just for few seconds before Osmium enters the room. He's crying too. We made the same promise I made with Zinc, and, luckily, he kept his word as well.

I gently wipe away his tears with my fingers. "Hey, I don't want that my last memory of you is your tears," I tell him.

"Don't talk like that, I'm sure I'll see you again," he replies.

I smile and kiss his forehead. "Maybe in another life."

"Don't give up, Iron!"

"The Capitol cannot let a rebel win, and you know it," I point out.

He winces. Osmium and his parents are loyalists- people who didn't rebel, because they truly believe in the Capitol. But I cannot do the same. I'm a rebel's son, and nothing will ever change it. This has created some friction between Osmium and me, but we have overcome it. Anyway, he finds it annoying when someone speaks evil of the Capitol.

"Sorry, babe, that's how it is," I say with a shrug.

"Maybe… maybe if you showed them that you're not a rebel, you'd stand a chance. They won't condemn you for what your parents did," he offers.

"I can try," I say.

Then, I kiss him, but, deeper down, I know that I'm already doomed, and I need all my self-control to avoid crying, because even a single tear would, in Osmium's eyes, betray my true feelings.

So, we can say that District 1 has an intriguing couple of tributes, in the sense that it has two opposites this year: on one side, Honey Valli, the Career girl by AmazonWarrior04; on the other side, Iron Rattler, the rebel's son by santiagoponcini20. Anyway, their fate is not yet sealed, and I hope you will support them during the Games. Can you make predictions of their behaviour or of their actions?

Thank you a lot for reading and reviewing, I really appreciate your contribution :)