Odicci Harbore, 18

Odicci supposed she should be grateful that the grand cosmic design had chosen her for this purpose, but truth be told, she was terrified. This was Katniss Everdeen shit, and Odicci was not ready for it. She was going to survive. The Capitol was on her side, and District Four. Her mother was trying to take care of her, but also take care of the country. Odicci had been given a list of acceptable Victors just before entering the Arena. She had received an explanation of them. Panem was in need of a classic, Capitol-dominant Victory.

Not a Mockingjay. A Tracker Jacker.
And it was really scary. Odicci had spent most of her life thinking she was very brave. She had always prided herself on adhering to her code of honor. The past few weeks had been filled with all manner of startling revelations, including the truth about her father, how she came to be born, and the secret nature of her mother's seafood fleet. Everything had been a surprise, but none of it had disrupted her sense of identity as much as the notion that she was supposed to be a savior.
Handpicked by Kaiya Albacore to usher in a new Age of Careers.

She was admittedly enthralled by the idea of a legacy. Legacies were forged in many ways. An Academy bearing the name of a Victor, a new record to be touted by the Master of Ceremonies as each new Games began, those were wonderful things.

Fragile things.
The problem with a legacy like that is its impermanence. Names were changed and records were broken, but hundreds of years later, everyone still remembered the face of the failed rebellion and her lover, even though she still died. Odicci did not want to be killed in the Arena, but she possessed privileges that Katniss lacked. That didn't matter yet, though. Her safety net was only primed to trigger if and when she accomplished her plan and succeeded. Once all unacceptable Victor picks were eliminated, she could count on it.
"Let's go hunting," she suggested, and the rest of the Pack fell in line. With Nathaniel dead and Orpheus missing in action, Tybalt and Nikita were happy to follow her lead. She needed to take care of Vica, Maize, Twyla, and Aspen. Then everything was going to be okay. Odicci just didn't know if she was ready to kill again. Four more, and then she would be safe forever. She could convince Nikita to do it, probably. He had been particularly grumpy as of late. And Tybalt would be fine with it too. She just couldn't take the thought of causing any more senseless violence, getting her own hands dirty when the playing field was already unfair. She didn't care about Victory any longer. She just wanted everything to be okay again.

Suddenly, a blood-curdling shriek pierced the air. She jumped. "Who was that?"

"It came from the direction we're heading."

"Maybe we should turn back." Nikita cast a disgusted look on Tybalt.

"Turn back? Why?"

"Maybe it's a trap, stupid. I don't think it's a coincidence that people got wiped out the other day. We gotta be careful."

Unfortunately, careful wasn't going to get the job done, so Odicci ignored the churning in her gut and cast the deciding vote. "It's the final eight. We have to find out. Right?"

Right.

Aspen Silvius, 15

The Gamemakers brought her a tribute. She killed the tribute. It was not a good feeling. There was a guilt to killing, but there was also a detachment. They were both in the river. The Six girl barely had time to scream. A fistful of hair and Aspen was on top of her and pushing her head underwater. She stopped moving. There was not a cannon. Aspen figured that would do, since she learned in training that an unconscious person underwater would die without being held down. No point in sticking around—who knows what type of attention that scream would attract.

She grabbed her shit and headed for the cliffs. They were treacherous enough if you knew what you were doing, but to someone eagerly on the trail of a tribute, they were deadly. The waterproofing on the Arena uniforms was excellent, but Aspen could still feel the wicked chill. There was a sharp decline in temperature as the elevation got higher. District Twelve had some mountains, especially in the wild. Aspen was familiar with the indifference of nature. It was easy to die. The Gamemakers could be persuaded. That could be a good thing, if they favored her, which was possible. She was actively getting a kill, so it wouldn't make sense to work against her. But if for some reason she was killing a fan favorite, then it might make sense that some ice on top of the cliffs would be in order. And of course, even if the Gamemakers wanted her to win, there was still so much that could go wrong, because there was always a possibility that she would take a tumble and fall to her death.

These had become the normal Aspen thoughts. There was something different about this alpine section of the Arena. It was hospitable, but something was wrong with it. The air was a little too crisp, the water a little too…sparkly? It was almost as though there was something pumping through this part of the landscape that made everyone go crazy.

Aspen chose the cliffs for the high ground. She was so paranoid these days, always checking behind her shoulders for signs of enemies lurking in the shadows. She'd chosen to make her camp up on the rocks, only a few minutes away from the river, so it was a short distance, but a significant advantage. It was just at the point when she was starting to wonder if she should have held the girl down longer when there was a KABOOM! in the distance. Then, there was a scuffling sound, and Aspen heard someone swearing. She peeped over the edge of the cliff and saw the Careers discovering the body.

It was about time.