User blog:LightStone123/401st Annual Hunger Games

Welcome everyone to my tenth ever Hunger Games! Since the War of the Hunger Games is still ongoing, these Games will be running simultaneously alongside those. As such, I'd advise you to read both, as events that take place there may influence these, and vice versa. I've decided to create and host these Games for both storyline reasons and because of popular demand. Keep reading for more information!

Introduction
While a bloody and costly war still wages on in the country of Panem, President Leopold Stryker has decided to hold the 401st Hunger Games many months early to build up support for the Capitol and entertain it's citizens during the hard times of war. Whether this will prove to be a wise decision remains to be seen...

Rules
1: There will be thirty-two Tributes

2: You may have up to two Tributes

3: Each Tribute has $150 in sponsor money for their mentor (creator) to use as they see fit.

4: I will write Pre-Games, Group Training, and of course the actual Games

5: I will not accept any Tributes that have been in my previous Games

6: Reservations last 48 hours (In certain cases this may be extended)

7: The Capitol is a Career district in my Games

8: Some tributes have already been selected for the Games. These were chosen in the War of the Hunger Games, which you can read at the following link: http://thehungergames.wikia.com/wiki/User_blog:LightStone123/War_of_the_Hunger_Games

9: Tribute Form: (Keep in mind that the tributes were NOT reaped. The Capitol held no official reapings for these Games, instead, they sent Peacekeepers into the District's and selected two teenagers from each District to compete. The Career Districts, however, have volunteers from the Career Academies.)

Name:

District:

Gender:

Age:

Personality:

Backstory:

Height:

Appearance:

Weapon(s):

Strengths:

Weaknesses:

Fear(s):

Alliance: (can be filled out later)

Alliances
Careers: Mercury Kwildor (1), Valencia Sonar (1), Silve Wisp (2), Harley Paramour (2), Pompeii Vulcan (4), Mario Firth (4), Ash Vile (12), & Aphrodite Lancaster (C)

Anti-Careers: Teddy Bridges (3), Jayda Idylwyld (3), Lilah Jollenbeck (8), Jonah Zarate (9), & Luigi Iris (13)

The Fools: Topher Celene (0), Nicholas Mecha (5), Elia Donsown (7), Emma Brynne (9), & Bastien Colloway (14)

District 5 & 8 Alliance: Corin Greer (5) & Cecil Thayer (8)

District 6 & 11 Alliance: Armado Roynclaw (6), Lavender Morton (6), Alpha Quells, (11) & Omega Quells (11)

District 10 & 12 Alliance: Takeko Zhou (10) & Carey Brand (12)

Loners: Surorian Chaos (C), Zamara Nostalic (0), Twan Crane (7), Avan Falco (10), Ophelia Thrindell (13), & Nylah Nichole (14)

Items
Antidote (cures poison): $150

Anti-Infection: $125

Awl: $50

Alcohol: $75

Axe: $150

Ball and Chain: $175

Baton: $100

Battleaxe $125

Blanket: $50

Blowgun: $125

Bow: $150

Bread: $50

Burn Cream: $125

Canteen: $75

Camouflage Paints: $100

Chakram: $175

Chlorine: $25

Cookies: $25

Crossbow: $175

Crackers: $15

Dagger: $100

Darts (12): $25

Dried Meat: $75

Dried Fruit: $50

Flail: $125

Flares x3: $125

Flashlight: $100

Hammer: $125

Iodine: $100

Knife: $50

Knife Glove: $100

Mace: $150

Machete: $125

Maches: $75

Metal Ball Bearings x25 (for slingshot): $75

Morning Star: $175

Gasoline $100

Hatchet: $125

Needles (3): $125

Net: $75

Net Trap: $125

Night-Vision Glasses: $150

Piece of Plastic: $15

Painkillers: $75

Poison: $100

Quiver of Arrows (12): $75

Raft: $125

Rocks: $15

Rope: $25

Scythe: $150

Shield: $125

Shield (Spiked): $200

Shurikens (5): $125

Sickle: $125

Sleeping Bag: $50

Sleep Syrup: $125

Slingshot: $75

Soup: $75

Spear: $125

Spike Trap: $250

Spile: $50

Sword: $150

Throwing Axes (3): $200

Throwing Knives (3): $200

Trident: $225

Water: $100

Whip: $75

Wire: $75

Wooden Club: $100

Wooden Club (Spiked): $150

Ophelia Thrindell (District 13)
The Hunger Games were over. They were supposed to be over. Ever since the war started, everyone said the same thing. That the Capitol would be defeated. That no one would ever be harmed by their tyranny again. That the Games were over.

All of those things were false.

People have been harmed. My family is dead, dead and gone. I don't know who is to blame; I only found their cold, dead bodies lying amidst the ruins of war. I wandered alone by myself for days after that, unsure where to go. The Blackcloaks had taken over the District, and there was no sign of life above ground. Everything looked so...dead.

I didn't dare check the tunnels, terrified of what I would find. I hoped to maybe discover another District or something. Anything that would relieve me of that horrible loneliness. But I found the worse thing I possibly could. I stumbled upon a group of Peacekeepers, and they then took me to be a tribute in the Hunger Games.

That's why I'm here now, in the Capitol, being led down an overly elaborate hallway, escorted by armed men. I don't know where in the Capitol I am, but I can make a pretty good guess. The Training Center.

The man leading the Peacekeepers stops beside an elevator, I recognize it because we had several of them in District 13, and presses a button. A moment later, the doors slide open. I'm ushered inside.

It feels like I should be asking questions, demanding answers. But I'm too scared. My body is trembling, my heart pounding like an unstoppable hammer. I've already met with a Capitol official, at least, I think that was what he was. A tall man dressed in a dark suit, he looked nothing like the silly Capitolite's I've been led to expect.

He explained what would happen. I would be escorted to my living apartment, introduced to my District partner and mentors, then I would be allowed to rest for the night before being taken for stylist preparation tomorrow. There will be a chariot ride that night, then the actual training days will begin.

So I have about a week to live.

The elevator stops at the penultimate floor, the home to District 13. I'm shoved out the door and followed by a sole Peacekeeper. I'm surprised that he comes. What need do I have for a guard in my own apartment?

I head down a hall filled with elaborately carved walls worked with gilt. The next room I enter is a dining room of sorts. Three people await me. Two of them I easily recognize; I've seen them on television for majority of my life. District 13's latest Victors, Reiner Bertholdt and Major Noble. The third is a tall teenage boy with oddly colored hair. I suppose he must be my District partner.

"Hello!" The boy smiles cheerfully as he steps forward, offering me a handshake. I don't want to shake his hand, but some formalities must be retained. He nods as I grip his hand. "I'm Luigi Iris."

"Ophelia Thrindell."

An awkward silence follows. I shift from foot-to-foot, wondering what is supposed to happen next, when Major Noble laughs. "What a pair we got this year, eh Reiner?"

The larger blond man shrugs as he sits down at the dining table. "What did you expect from them? The next Games weren't supposed to happen for another year."

"They weren't supposed to happen at all!" I can't help but speak my thoughts, even though I know this isn't the place or time.

"You thought that the Capitol would lose?" Major fixes me with a narrow gaze as he joins Reiner at the table. "How naive."

I feel my face redden as I blush. I was just chastised by one of District 13's greatest figures! Though he is only known for winning a cruel, inhuman game, he's still someone I've respected my entire life.

"You should keep those type of thoughts to yourself," Reiner grunts. "After what happened in the 400th, the Capitol won't tolerate any type of rebellious actions. Try and pull something funny in the games, don't be surprised if a mutt pack pays you a visit in the night."

Great. Now I don't need to just worry about being killed by a murderous teenager, but I need to be vigilant with my words too. One careless thought, and I could be signing my own death warrant.

My mentors don't linger on the subject. Before I know it, Major is asking both me and Luigi for our skills. The tall boy answers easily, quickly rattling off several skills that I could only wish I possessed. By the time he's done, everyone turned to me and I find myself tongue tied.

"I'm...er...good at..." What am I good at? I'm good at drawing, but that's not really a skill you'd find much use for in a all-out brawl to the death. What else can I do?

"You must have something," Major says, sounding more patient then I think he should. "Everyone has something they're proud of."

"I'm...smart, I guess." Yet I'm certain I'm nowhere near the level of District 3, or even 5, for that matter. I don't think I could even outsmart the Careers!

"Intelligence is always a good thing," Major nods his head. "No idiot ever won the Games, after all."

That does little to assuage my fears. Still, my mentors seem to be at a rest with learning my skills. Now they just want to know my weaknesses. "I'm a terrible swimmer," I admit this truth right away. The one time I tried, I nearly drowned. If the arena heavily features water, then I'm done for.

"If that's your biggest weakness, then you're in good position," Major tells me. "Very few tributes know how to swim. And odds are, you won't have to in the Games."

"What about you?" Reiner turns to Luigi. "What's your biggest weakness?"

The tall boy shrugs. "I can't swim either. Also, I'm terrible with ranged weapons."

Major throws his hands up in exasperation. "What is with you two? Why are you so despondent? You're in pretty good shape, if those minor inconveniences are your weaknesses!"

I don't know about that. I'm sure that none of the other tributes have any crippling weaknesses or anything like that. Thinking of the other tributes, I actually don't know what any of them look like. Since there was no Reapings I haven't even seen any footage of them yet. The chariot ride will be my first opportunity.

"Go get some rest," Reiner sends us away from the dining room and into the adjacent hallway. "You have a tough few days ahead of you before you even see the arena. Try and get some sleep. You'll need it, trust me."

I leave without a word. Despite all the good things they had to say about me, I do not feel the least bit better. I don't think that I can win this. If any of the other tributes look the slightest like Luigi, then they all already outclass me.

Speaking of my district partner, he's stopped beside the door to his bedroom, watching me with a blank expression. "Cheer up," He says with a small smile.

I stare at him blankly. "Cheer up? I don't know if you've noticed, but there's not exactly anything to be cheerful about!" I consider myself an optimist. I always try to look on the bright side of things, but I don't really see one here. Panem is in all-out war. My family is dead. My best friend is dead. Soon I'll be dead too. Where's the bright side?

Luigi kneels down so that he is eye level with me. His brown eyes gleam with a quiet confidence. "A wise man once told me that its fine at the end, and if its not yet fine, than its not the end. So don't give up, not yet. Keep fighting until you run out of breath."

"It's...just so hard...what's the point?"

He pats me on the shoulder. "I volunteered for this. I took the spot of a younger boy, so that he may yet live a long and prosperous life. I saved his life. That is what I'm cheerful for." He stands up and opens the door, entering without looking back. I'm left alone in the empty hall.

He's right. Here I was, wallowing in self-pity and despair, and my fight wasn't even over yet. Terrible things have happened. Awful, unspeakable things that have left me a broken mess. But I can't give up. My family wouldn't want that, Adeline wouldn't want that, and most of all, I don't want that.

After all, what is the point of life if you don't fight to the last breath to keep it?

Alpha Quells (District 11)
Omega is trembling with fear as she sits in one of the many plush armchairs that fill District 11's apartments living quarters. She is curled up in a ball, her face buried behind her hands. She looks so frail.

I want to comfort her, but what can I say? Our circumstances are at the worse they could possibly get. Everyone I've ever known in life is dead, except for her. But considering where we're headed...

"We'll die, Alpha," Omega's voice is a faint whisper. "The arena will be our tomb."

I grit my teeth together to stop myself from yelling. "No. No, it won't be. Don't be stupid." I don't like hearing her voice the thoughts that have been crawling around in the back of my head since we were taken in by the Peacekeepers.

"But how will we survive?" My little sister finally lifts her head up from the chair, staring at me with her familiar tear-filled blue eyes. "What could we possibly do?" She stares at me before the sorrow fades and her eyes lower to the intricate pattern on the soft carpet below.

"Whose the biggest, strongest person you know?" I ask, hoping to get her mind off the terror, but she's focusing so hard on that little pattern that I know she's hardly listening.

"You are," She says after a moment's silence.

I nod vigorously. "Yes! And if the biggest, strongest person you know can't win, then who can?" I hope that I sound confident, that the insecurity that I feel is kept out of my voice. I'm big and strong, yes, but so are the Careers. And they've been trained with weapons.

"But if you win," Omega sounds even more dejected than before, if that is possible. "Then that means I still die."

"I--no. You would..." I trail off, thinking quickly. "You know that more than one person has won the Games before!"

She nods her head, but does not look any less despairing. "But that won't happen this year..."

"You don't know that." Deep inside me, that kernel of fear is growing. I want Omega to live. I want her to grow up and have a happy life. But that can only happen if she believes she can survive. If she gives up hope... "Besides, you heard what everyone in Eleven was saying. Other tributes survived the 400th Game. The Capitol says that they're dead, but you know they're not!"

She doesn't say anything. Curling up into an even tigher ball, she buries her head underneath her arms. I hiss in exasperation, turning around and slamming a fist into the wallpaper wall. The light fixtures above rattle from the blow.

"I don't intend to die in that arena, Omega!"

"Intent is nice, but it's based more in hope than reality."

A new voice joins the conversation. I turn around as he enters the room, hobbling in on a cane. Mogul Nazzath has had a limp ever since he won the 381st Games. He took a knife to the leg during the finale, and apparently refused to have his tendons fixed. I respect him for that.

"Hardly anyone intends to die in the arena," He continues, slowly easing himself into a nearby chair. "And those that do quickly change their mind once faced with imminent death."

I stare at the man. He's not very tall but he's very broad, with big, wide shoulders and muscular arms. Despite his age, his short black hair is peppered with gray, and his face shows the hell he went through, being covered with wrinkles and scars.

"Is that supposed to be advice?" I ask him drily.

He shakes his head. "No. It was merely a fact."

I don't know what to think of this man. He's supposed to be our mentor, but says very little in the way of useful things. Mostly he just spouts off philosophical nonsense. No wonder why we haven't had a Victor since him. "Unless you have something that will actually help," I say, turning my back on the man. "Then don't bother talking to us."

"Many tributes have said that to me. They all wound up dead."

"Yeah? Well, last time I checked, all of your tributes wound up dead." It's not like I haven't faced hardship. I've gone through hell just living my life. I don't want anyone telling me what to do. In the arena, it will be just me and Omega. Mogul won't be there; everything I get done will have to be done by me alone.

"This is all my fault," Omega sobs quietly from her armchair.

"No, it's not. None of this is your fault, Omega." She isn't to blame for our parents being murdered, for our siblings being massacred. It's not her fault that we ran into those Peacekeepers whilst trying to find help. All of that was just luck. Pure, unfortunate luck.

"But it is. It is!" Her sobs continue as I stare at the wall in despair. There's so much against me. And I need to survive, somehow. And have Omega survive. I have not yet given up hope on both of us surviving. The odds may be against it, but when has that ever stopped me before?

Emma Brynne (District 9)
I sit on a plush leather chair, surrounded by the very epitome of luxury, and I'm scared out of my wits.

This train will take me to the Capitol. From there, I will be led to the Hunger Games. That's a death sentence for anyone, but for someone from District 9, where we haven't had a Victor in over seventy-five years, it goes so far beyond that.

I will die. There's no changing that fact.

This is just my punishment, I suppose. I'm responsible for people's deaths, more than any other tribute, I'm sure. My sister's best friend drowned because of me. My sister, Cadence, was murdered in the rebellion because of me.

I silently stroke the bracelet on my wrist. It's a reminder of my sins. A constant token of my penance that must still take place. I deserve to be here. If anyone ever deserved to die in the arena, it was me.

Across from me sits my district partner and a woman named Acacia. Supposedly she's an escort that is also acting as a mentor, thanks to the fact that District 9 only has one living Victor.

That's how little the Capitol thinks of us. They gave us an escort for a mentor. A vain, snobbish woman who probably doesn't know the first thing about surviving the Hunger Games. I haven't tried speaking with her. She only talks about her makeup and whether her hair matches her dress or not. It doesn't.

I don't attempt speaking with my district partner, Jonah, either. It's not that I dislike him. He seems fun to be around. But that's the problem, see. Watching him die would become twice as difficult if we get to know each other more. Time for making friends ran out the second I was sentenced to the arena. But at the same time, I really don't want to go into the arena alone.

So I have no idea what I'm going to do. I don't want to get close to anyone, but I can't 	convince anyone to align with me if I don't. It's a problem with no solution. I do promise myself one thing, however: I won't be Jonah's killer. In fact, if I can help it, I won't kill a single tribute.

I begin to dwelve back into my thoughts when Acacia motions for me. She sits beside a window. "Hey, Emma, check out this view while you can. I bet you've never seen anything like this!"

Jonah is staring through another window. Amazed. Grudgingly, I move from the chair I occupy and join them.

I can't help but gasp in awe as I stare out the window. The Capitol is a truly beautiful place. I can't stop marveling at the skyscrapers, gleaming from every angle. The frosted mountains, providing a gorgeous backdrop. We don't have any mountains in District 9, so it's almost like we're in a different world altogether. Capitolites, all dressed in flamboyant clothes, crowd the train station. For a minute, I almost forget where I am and where I'm going. In that minute, all I can think about is how much Cadence would have loved everything. The colors, the lights, the fancy and pretty things… she would have a blast in the Capitol.

Thoughts of Cadence, however, remind me why she's not here with me. A fresh wave of guilt crashes over me.

Jonah cracks a grin of relief. "Look at how they're dressed. I mean, that's…"

It's unbelievable, the clothes they wear. Stuff I'd never put on in a million years. Why do they think it's fashionable?

"Since we're almost at our destination," Acacia says, "I'm sure you remember what comes now. The tribute parade. You'll be separated to meet your prep teams, and they'll get you ready for tonight."

"Right away? It's barely afternoon!" I argue.

"Believe me, they use every second of time on you. Appearance counts a lot when you're in front of sponsors. Especially if you're a girl. As they say, you never get a second chance at a first impression. You're a real looker, Emma, so they should have extra fun with you!"

I shudder. Those words. It just doesn't sound right, when said like that. I won't mind it, though. I could never really afford makeup or cosmetics back home. Still, looking pretty won't save me in the arena.

"You're the last tributes to arrive," Acacia continues on. "The others all got here yesterday. So you guys will be rushed right into the preparation process. It may feel unfair, but just enjoy it all. I'm sure worse things have happened to you."

Isn't that the truth.

"Well, we're arrived," Acacia says, standing up after a few moments of silence. She gives us each a quick once over, making sure we're presentable for the cameras, before pressing the button to open the train doors. Almost immediately, we're swarmed with bright lights of the cameras and people shouting random questions at us.

"How was your train ride?" Flash.

"Is your family proud that you're here?" Click.

"What do you think of your District partner?" Flash.

"Are you in anyway concerned about District 9's curse?" Click. At one point, I make the mistake of putting my arm in front of my eyes to shield them from the camera flashes. Acacia hisses and yanks it down, glaring at me before turning and smiling at one of the cameramen. As soon as we're inside the Remake Center, she flicks my ear. I hiss and glare at her.

"Don't ever try to shield yourself from the cameras," she warns. "The whole point of these things is to show you off. You have to be camera-ready twenty-four-seven. And they have to always be able to see your face." She looks at both Jonah and I before sighing and guiding us to two doors.

"These are your chariot preparation rooms. I'll meet you after the chariots. Try not to do anymore stupid things, yes?" Acacia nods to each us before click-clacking away on her impossibly high heels. I turn to look at Jonah, but he's already entering his preparation room.

Bracing myself, I twist the knob on the door. Worse things have happened. I just need to keep reminding myself that.

Jayda Idylwyld (District 3)
I must admit that when I left home to explore the last unknown vestiges of District 3, I had not expected that I would wind up participating in the Hunger Games as a tribute.

I step out of the bathroom, finishing drying my hair with a towel and gazing around my bedroom. The walls are light tan or ivory in color. One whole side is actually a series of windows staring out into the Capitol, and these are covered floor to ceiling by drapes. While by normal standards the room is overly exuberant, I do not think it is anything special.

Being a member of the Idylwyld family, I have seen much more elegant and ostentatious displays of wealth before. This is nothing unusual to me.

I dress myself in the training uniform that was laid out for me last night. It's a tad more form-fitting then I'd like, but it's simple practically is something that I don't mind wearing. It couldn't be more different from that horribly garish dress I was forced to wear for last night's Chariot Rides.

Such a useless frivolity. What is even the point of the thing? It's not as if it has any bearing on how well one will perform in the Games. It is just so utterly useless.

A clock chimes on the wall. I turn to look at the time, but as I do, I hastily avert my gaze. Standing in the corner is one of the apparitions, one of the ghosts who've been haunting me since I set foot in that cabin.

They're not real. Logically, my mind knows this. I am not being haunted by ghosts. That would be ridiculous. But at the same time, how could they not be real? I see them. They're present. I find myself breathing faster as I carefully head for the day, trying desperately to keep my gaze off the ghost--No. The apparition. I will not think of them as ghosts!

Why are they still here? I had hoped that they would leave me alone now that I am destined for the Games. A foolish thought, perhaps. They had not left me alone whilst locked in that cell with Teddy, so why would they now? Sometimes logic fails me.

I reach the door and hastily pull it open, stepping out and shutting it behind me with a shudder of relief. I am glad I did not get a good look at the apparition. It's worse when I do. Especially if it's Callia. I cannot help but breakdown when I see her.

I am about to make my into the dining room when my mentor--one of them, at least--appears around the corner. He makes a beeline for me as I am spotted.

"Ah, Jayda! How wonderful to see you this morning!" Caspian Mahoney stops only a foot away from me, offering a half-bow. His dark brown hair is spiked this day, and his pale, beautiful face is lit with a smile. A smile that does not touch his eyes. "Still as gorgeous as you were last night, I see."

"Don't talk to me." I saw his Games. I saw what he did. Especially to Rosalina. I saw how she died. The worst part is that I believe that the Capitol only showed the very end.

"Oh, don't be like that!" Before I can stop him, his hand is on my head, his fingers running through my hair. "Harshness does not suit you, not at all."

I recoil from his touch, but his hand snatches my wrist and he pulls me closer. His grip is like iron. "You should really smile more," he purrs with a smile, hand brushing against my neck. "You ruin your beauty, when you don't smile."

"Let. Me. Go." I'd knee him right between the legs if I wasn't worried about the trouble I could get in. Attacking mentors is not allowed. Not even perverse, psychopathic mentors.

"Rosalina was never as pretty as you," He does not look me in the eyes, but he lets go of my wrist. I pull back immediately, a shiver running through my body. His very touch is vile! "I'd suggest you be nicer to me. I am your mentor, after all."

"I have Axiom, too." Despite an overwhelming urge to run away from this cretin, I am somehow rooted to the spot. "And he's not a psychopath like you!"

Caspian laughs. It's a deep, rich sound. With a chill I think of how charming it would be had it belonged to anyone else. "Axiom is an angry little man filled with hatred and afflicted with an inferiority complex. He's not the hero that everyone in District 3 thinks he is."

Axiom Jolt. District 3's latest victor before Caspian. Unlike the vicious ogre before me, Axiom won his Games with cunning and integrity. He never brutally killed anyone. In fact, he was against the Career Pack from the start.

"Axiom wishes he were like me," Caspian continues with a smile, his eyes lingering on my face. "He once told me that he killed his family after becoming Victor, but that was a lie. They're alive and well, to this day. Axiom is a coward."

"Then he is like you."

Caspian's hand shoots forward and slaps me across the face. Hard. Tears build in my eyes as I stumble back, placing a hand against the wall to stay upright. I will not give this monster the privilege of seeing me fall.

"Now look what you made me do!" Caspian tsk-tsk's, taking a pair of white gloves from his pocket and sliding them on. "I hate getting physical. Much too taxing."

I resist the urge to tackle him. To beat him senseless and avenge his victims. The fact that this...abomination is allowed to walk free is an affront to the human species. He should be caged or put down at once.

Unfortunately, I am in no position to do anything about it.

Caspian walks pass me, a smirk on his face. "Come now, let us go to the dining room. You wouldn't want to miss breakfast, would you?"

Shaking with anger and revulsion, I follow him into the dining room. The table is completely covered with many delicious looking foods, but I find that I have no appetite as I sit down.

Across from me, Teddy and Axiom are deep in conversation. The young Victor has been the only one besides for myself whose actually managed to get Teddy to say a word. The boy has been so distraught over his sister that he's barely paid attention to anything.

"That's amazing!" Teddy is caught up in some story Axiom is telling. With bright eyes and an even brighter smile, he looks nothing like the boy I first saw in that rebel prison. I understand why he looks up to Axiom so. Axiom is a victor who wasn't very strong, was not overly attractive, and won his Games by staying under the radar and using his intelligence to eliminate his physically superior opponents. Needless to say, I believe that Teddy sees a lot of himself in the man.

Caspian neatly sits himself down at the table. I try my best to ignore him. He is nothing to me. In a few days, he will be unable to even speak to me. I can suppress my hatred for him that long.

Breakfast slowly passes by. Despite my lack of appetite, I do manage to eat a little. I expect that I will need the energy during training. It would be foolish to deprive myself of that.

When the meal is over, Axiom leads us to the elevator. "Try to go as unnoticed as you can," He tells us as he presses the button and the doors slide open. "Attracting the attention of the Careers would be a bad idea."

Obvious advice, perhaps, but it is sound nonetheless. Neither Teddy nor I are the type of tribute who would do well with unneeded attention.

As the elevator doors begin to shut, I see an apparition over Axiom's shoulder. I cringe.

"You okay?" Teddy speaks quietly, his eyes carefully taking in my face. He is too observant for his own good. "I noticed that you do not get along with Caspian."

"Do you think anyone gets along with that creature?" I don't mean to snap at him, but I can't help it. That apparition...was it..?

"No. I s'pose not." There's a long pause where neither of us say anything. "Will you--I mean, we're allying, right?"

The question takes me by surprise. From the moment I had learned I was destined for the Games, I had expected to align myself with a sizable alliance, perhaps the Anti-Careers. But now that I know Teddy is at my side, perhaps the two of us could join an alliance together. Maybe even have an inside alliance within that alliance. Yes. That would do quite nicely.

"Yes," I nod at Teddy, trying to form some semblance of cheerfulness. "The two of us will be aligned together. And, if we play our cards right, I expect that one of us will emerge as Victor too."

Bastien Collaway (District 14)
Our mentors wave us off as we step into the elevators. Nylah says nothing as the doors shut, sealing us inside as the entire room lifts to take us down to the training center. Truth be told, I'm nervous.

My entire strategy for the Games hinges on me having allies. And for that to happen, I need to actually talk with and befriend the other tributes. Sounds simple, right? Well, it may not be. What if they don't like me? If they think I'm weak and worthless? What if no one approaches me and I'm forced to ask them for an alliance? I've never had problems making friends before, but what if now is the time it starts? All these questions and more swim around inside my head as the elevator hurtles ever downwards.

"I need to find the weaknesses..." Nylah mutters.

"Excuse me?" I turn to the odd girl. "What did you just say?" She's always muttering to herself. Always rubbing her head and staring intently at people, her eyes gazing right through you. Sometimes I think she knows more than she let's on. She scares me.

"Nothing." She shakes her head. "I said nothing."

"Oh...Okay, then." I watch in silence as she plays with a small feather in her hands. Maybe I should ask her to be my ally? But, no. She's too strange. Too...unnatural. Besides, if she wanted to be my ally, she'd have already asked me. Since she hasn't, I think it's safe to say that she has no interest in any sort of alliance between us.

Ding!

The elevator touches down and the doors slide open, depositing us into a large, oval-shaped room with a domed ceiling. My eyes zoom around, trying to take everything in. The racks of weapons and their corresponding stations are all in the back, directly across from me. The survival stations are spread to the left side and the Gauntlets, Ropes Course and other stamina stations are on the right. Stepping forward and turning, I can see that the cafeteria is just to the left of the elevators. As I examine my new surroundings I notice that Nylah and I are among first tributes to arrive. Only the Careers and the pair from District 13 are here. I sense them watching us, probably sizing us up and deciding if we're any sort of threat. Obviously we're not, because they turn away almost immediately.

I'm actually kinda disappointed. I had hoped that maybe I'd look threatening--or at least slightly imposing--but instead they spare me nothing more than a casual glance. I hope I'll show them in the Games!

"When will training start?" I ovehear Nylah asking a nearby instructor.

He checks his watch. "At noon, or whenever everyone else gets here."

Just as he says this, the elevator doors open and the tributes from District 9 come out. The boy is athletic, with shaggy brown hair and a pair of intelligent blue eyes. I think his name was Jonah? I'm not sure.

At any rate, he just brushes past everyone and takes a spot near the cafeteria, lolling against a pillar with his arms folded.

The girl, however, stops and stares at the others. My breath leaves me at the very sight of her. She's slender and short, yet hard with muscle. Her long blonde hair hangs straight down her head, framing her face and--her most distinct feature--her bright turquoise eyes.

They're not like normal eyes, no. They're a natural blue, and soft and radiant and--

I tear my gaze away from the girl. Don't get enamoured! Think rationally! She's bound to die in the arena, along with myself. I have no time for such sentimental behaviour. But...I find myself watching her as she drifts across the panelled floor. Then more tributes arrive.

The Capitol pair, tough and deadly as they head straight for the Careers. The girl seems to pull ahead and says something in a low voice to Silve. I can't hear what.

Then the floodgates are opened. District 7 arrives, followed by 8 and 12. Pretty soon everyone is assembled on the floor, and a man steps out from the throng of trainers. He's relatively young and holds a devilish glint in his eyes. "Line up by height!"

Trainers start lining us all about and as I use this opportunity to examine the other tributes. Avan from District 10 is placed at the left end of the line. Being well-over six and a half feet tall, no one else really comes close in height. He's followed by Surorian from the Capitol, who is one of the few tributes over six feet. At the far end of the line stands Omega from District 11, the shortest tribute. Not a surprise, seeing as she's only twelve years-old. What is odd is that Mario, the female Career from District 4, is practically the same height as her.

I'm placed somewhere right near the top of line, only behind the aforementioned Avan and Surorian, plus Alpha, Omega's brother. As I take in everyone else I start feeling more confident of my ability to win. Yeah, there's a lot of tributes more muscular then I am--despite being tall, I am very skinny--but they don't look too much brighter. And the tributes who do look smarter then me, or at least on par with, don't seem to be any stronger. The exception to this is the boy from District 13. He's tall and about as muscular as any Career, and he has crazy multi-colored hair. He kinda creeps me out.

The Head Trainer, the young man named Kekai, steps forward and begins to speak. "Listen closely, everyone, because failure to heed my words will result in your death." Well, that's not ominous at all. No sirree, that's perfectly normal, that is.

After a short pause to make sure we're listening, Kekai continues. "Everyone has at least one thing they're good at, whether it's something exceptional or not. Some of you rely heavily on this talent in order to shine, while others can utilize multiple fields as well, though obviously not to a greater degree when compared to one who has honed their talent for their entire life. Between these two, the latter is more likely to succeed and make it out of the arena alive." A few gasps of surprise and an angry mutter or two from the District 12 girl. Kekai only smiles placidly.

"Ludicrous? Consider this: in some circumstances, your talents can easily become your greatest flaw. For example, let's say you excel at swimming but fail to accomplish the aspect of climbing. The gong has sounded, and to your horror, the arena just happens to be a mountain range with little to no water. Am I downplaying the significance of your strengths? No, you should always work to improve on your strengths, but be sure to dedicate your time to your weaknesses as well." Kekai paces down the line, staring each and every one of in the eye. His words make a new home in my head as he passes me by.

"During your time here in the Training Station, I want all of you to polish yourself as fighters and survivalists. If you're amazing with spears, train with swords instead. Be versatile. You never know what the Gamemakers will throw at you, so be more than prepared. Be adaptable to every situation you find yourself in. Do not ignore your faults and pray for luck. Otherwise, you might as well leave this room and find some Peacekeeper to piss off before you die in some different, unfavorable fashion. Am I clear? If so, let training commence!"

Jonah Zarate (District 9)
As Kekai blows his whistle and authorizes the beginning of training, I'm shoved aside as everyone tromps off for their own destination. The Careers head straight for the gauntlet, eager to show off their agility. Ash doggedly follows them. I take a few paces forward before being shoved aside once more, this time by Takeko. The harsh girl stomps her way towards the weapons, not bothering to look back.

Where should I go?

There's so many different stations, including: Animal tracking, hand-to-hand combat, Camouflage, Edible insects/plants, fire making, fishing, hammock making, knot tying, shelter building, snare-setting, climbing, weight-lifting, and wrestling. Far too many to keep track of. Then there are many stations dedicated solely to the range of weapons that will almost certainly be provided at the cornucopia, including but not limited to; axes, knives, spears, swords, maces, tridents, sickles, and bows and arrows.

That is all far, far too much for me to wrap my head around. So as everyone else rushes off to try their hand at whatever they wish, I sweep my gaze around the gymnasium, wondering which I should try first. I'm pretty confident in my camouflage and climbing abilities, and I don't want anyone else to know how skilled I am with sickles. Uncertain, I decide to head for the knot tying station. It's one of the least popular and I can at least have some privacy as I wrap my head around all these stations.

No one else is there as I approach, and I'm given plenty of time to get some knots tied. Unfortunately, with my clumsy hands I have quite the difficulty mastering even the simplest of knots. "Imagine if I had to do this in the arena..." In vivid detail, I think about how stupid I'd look if the reason I wind up dead is because I couldn't tie a simple knot.

Before long, I notice a tall boy observing my work. Luigi from 13.

"I'm pretty good at knots," He says, crouching beside me. "Do you want some help?"

"Shouldn't you be with Careers?" Luigi flinches from my question, and I fear I may have been too harsh. Still, I glance over at the pack. They're crowded around the gauntlet, cheering as Valencia runs across. Luigi is so big and strong that it would be reasonable for him to align himself with the pack.

"Well..." The boy pushes a stray lock of hair from his face. "I guess so. I mean, it's been assumed that I would join them, but I'm not really--" He stops himself, scratching his neck self-consciously. "I thought it would be wise if I were to demonstrate my best skills and try to see if anyone else is interested in an alliance."

"So you're best at knot tying," I say flatly.

He chuckles lightly, turning to watch the Careers as they continue along the gauntlet. "Well, I was trained for the Games, but I'm not as good as they are. In fact, I'm not accustomed to any type of ranged weapon." The boy offers another smile, but I can see the fear in his eyes. And I can understand why. I mean, being trained for the Games but not being a Career? They'll probably target him first.

"Will you still align with them?" I ask. You'd wonder why he wouldn't...

"No." He shakes his head quickly. "I'm not joining them. They're too cruel and callous for my liking."

I smile. Seems like Luigi thinks the same way I do. "Maybe we could ally," I put it out there casually, though I'm silently hoping he'll accept. "You know, like form a group of people with opposite beliefs of the Careers."

Luigi's eyebrows arch themselves as he goes into thought. "Like Careers? But the opposite?"

"Yeah."

"So, would we be this year's version of the Anti-Careers or something?"

I shrug. I really didn't put any effort into thinking of this hypothetical alliances name. "I guess. Why? You joining?"

A sly smile flickers across the boy's taciturn face. "Yes. I do believe that I am."

Teddy Bridges (District 3)
I pace about the training floor, searching for the proper station to begin my preparation. I started out by just following Jayda, but she got caught up in some sort of intelligence testing game and I got bored watching her. Besides, I need to do some of my own training.

As I walk, I catch glimpse of Nylah from 14 as she clings to the ropes in the Ropes Course, expertly manoeuvring her way from side to side.

She's good. And I should know. I've spent a good deal of time climbing buildings back home in District 3. It's harder than people think. It's not just pure strength, it's knowing where to put your hands and when to place them. I doubt very many tributes can climb as well as that girl can.

After a minute of watching the girl, I drift over to the weapons stations. The Careers have yet to arrive, they're still running the gauntlets. But how long will that last? I need to get as much practice in as possible before they come over here.

I think over each weapon before choosing. A sword is simple, but it's always highly sought after. I don't want the hassle of trying to get one during the Games. Same deal with a spear. And an axe. I consider a mace, but I don't like the way it looks. Finally I decide to go with a bow and arrow. If I had to kill, it'd be a clean one. Plus, it's long range will give me an advantage.

Unfortunately, it turns out I wasn't meant to use a bow. I spend more than five minutes just trying to place an arrow to the string, and by the time I actually succeed, the arrow never manages to go more than a few feet before sputtering out and dropping to the floor before even reaching the target.

"Are you about done with that?" I turn to see Ophelia from 13 watching me, her blue eyes alive with scathing disapproval.

Wordless, I hand her the bow, feeling my face flush red with embarrassment. I'm a failure! A sure fire bloodbath death for certain! What chance do I have? "I-I'm sorry," I stammer out an apology to the dark haired girl. She doesn't reply, taking careful aim with the bow.

She unleashes with the arrows. She doesn't hit the bulls-eye even once, but at least every single shot manages to hit the target. Unlike mine. Trying to ignore her success and my failure, I drift away from the station.

Not looking where I'm going, I eventually bump into Luigi, Ophelia's District partner. "S-sorry!" I mutter a quick apology and try to slip past him.

He eyes me carefully. "You're Teddy, right?"

Why does he want to know my name? So he can target me during the Games? "Y-yes."

He sees my horrified expression and laughs. "Don't look so glum! I'm not here to kill you!" I don't bother pointing out that, technically, he is here to kill me. Everyone is.

"Then what do you want?" My words are perhaps a bit brisk, but I'm not used to people paying any attention to me. At least, any positive attention. Usually the only reason someone talks to me is so that they can use me as a punching bag.

"You like getting to the point, don't you?" He smiles disarmingly, but I still hesitate before answering. Point? As in, point of a sword?

"I'd rather avoid all sharp points," I say hastily.

Luigi laughs loudly. "So would I! Maybe we could ally."

"Wh-what?" Ally?! That was about the last thing I ever expected someone to ask from me. I had hope it would happen, but expected? Never! Even getting Jayda to agree was astounding enough! "You want to ally with me?"

"Why not?" His eyes study me up and down, certainly spotting my crooked jaw. I remember how, at very the beginning of training, Corin avoided me like the plague after noticing and hope that this boy won't do the same. "You can join our group."

He gestures behind him, and for the first time I spot the District 8 girl and District 9 boy standing just a few feet away, waiting for Luigi. I'm...surprised that such an alliance would want me. "You mean it?" I ask.

Luigi nods. "Of course!"

"Then--Yeah. I-I would love to join." For a moment, I had forgotten about Jayda, but now she comes crashing back into my mind. "I mean, only if my district partner can too."

"Of course she can!" Luigi is surprisingly receptive to the idea. Or maybe not so surprisingly. Jayda is much more impressive person then I am, so of course they'd want her in the alliance.

Luigi pulls me forward to introduce me to the others. The boy is named Jonah, and he seems like a kind, well-adjusted person. He cracks a joke about how, when he wins and breaks the District 9 curse, he'll be known as the greatest Victor ever.

"As long as we're remembered as being the catalyst for your victory," The girl says with a small smile. Her name is Lilah, and I already know that I'll get along with her. She's pretty and she just exudes a presence that I can't help but be drawn in by. She reminds me of my sister, Nora.

"I'm glad to have you with us, Teddy!" She ruffles my hair and hands me a sweet from her pocket. I waste no time in eating it.

"So, where is your district partner?" Luigi looks at the surrounding stations, where the giant from District 10 is chucking weights around and where two of the male Careers are sparring with a trainer.

"She's this way."

I lead the trio to the last place I saw Jayda, the intelligence testing board, and am not surprised to see that she's still there. I stop a few paces away, observing as she almost completely aces the test.

When she's done, she turns around to see me and the others. "Oh, Teddy. Please don't tell me you did something to anger them!"

I'm a little insulted that's the first thing she thinks happened, but I don't have time to respond before Luigi does. "We're here about a possible alliance."

"With me and Teddy?" She looks back and forth between me and the group. "Well, I must say that I am quite flattered you'd think to offer us such a deal."

I don't think all that purple prose is necessary, but what do I know? I watch quietly as the conversation continues. "Well, will you accept?" Luigi asks. "Teddy has already said hat he's with us, but only if you join too."

"Very well. I accept." Jayda gives a little bow, then steps forward to introduce herself to Lilah and Jonah. I'm not sure what my ultimate fate in the Games will be, but I'm not afraid of competing. Not anymore. I'll fight my hardest to win, with my allies at my side. I'll fight so that I will see Nora again.

Silve Wisp (District 2)
"Surorian is as good as dead!" Valencia grins beside me, her hands clutching a pair of knives as she stares at the Capitol male as he practices with a sword. He is a whirlwind of steel, and even I, a master swordsman, have a little trouble keeping up with his moves.

"Yes. He most certainly is." I find myself agreeing with my alliance partner. What kind of Career opts out of joining our pack? Granted, the Capitol does not always align with the pack, but majority of the time they do. Especially when they're as strong as Surorian seems.

Opting not to join with us was a foolish choice. Had he done so, he would have blended in with all of us. But now? Now he is a target. And not just to us Careers he scorned, but to every tribute out there trying to make a name for themselves. I will be surprised if he lasts more than two days in the Games.

"Okay, guys. Listen up!"

Pompeii from District 4 strides into our midst, his metal hands gleaming at his sides. Apparently he had a "training mishap" that claimed his hands, thus, he had them replaced with metal surrogates. He purports that he can punch through walls with them. I think that's little more than idle boasting.

"We're going to ask around for some recruits," Pompeii continues, not bothering to hear any of our opinions. He pretty much made himself leader from the outset. He had little opposition--Mercury, the spiky-haired boy from District 1, briefly protested, but he quickly ceased his complaints when Pompeii began extolling his own skills. Whether that makes him intelligent or a pushover, I know not.

Hardly anyone else made any effort to claim leadership. My District partner, Harley, wants nothing to do with that responsibility. In fact, she says very little at all. Right now she's hanging around at the back of the pack, silently watching Pompeii give his speech. I am not quite sure what to make of her.

The other three females, Valencia, Aphrodite, and little Mario, do not seem leadership material, had they even wanted the position. For my part, I am too aware of the dangers of leadership to actually want the job. A leader is too visible, too much of a figurehead for any problems we could have. If something goes wrong in the Games, the leader will undoubtedly get the blame.

I do not want that responsibility.

Our pool of possible recruits, it turns out, is in reality a single tribute. The male from District 12 is the only person who answers Pompeii's summons. He's a blond boy with a hard face and even harder eyes. He lolls a toothpick between his teeth as he watches us. "Name's Ash Vile," he drawls, scanning each of our faces in turn. "Thought that you could use my help."

"We'll be the judge of that," Aphrodite snaps. She doesn't like him already. I can tell by the look of disdain on her otherwise very pretty face. "You should just focus on showcasing your skills."

"Where's your training outfit?" Mercury asks. Before the boy brought it up, I hadn't even noticed that Ash wasn't in our uniform. Instead, he's wearing a plain white shirt and a pair of ripped blue jeans.

Ash shrugs. "Didn't feel like wearing it."

We have no more questions after that. Pompeii merely urges Ash to show us what he has to offer, and the blond boy leads us to the weapons stations and shows off his skill with an axe. It's not insanely amazing or an otherwise impressive performance, but he does show a passable level of adequacy. As he finishes, he explains that he's more use to a pickaxe then the type they have here.

"Of course a District 12 git wouldn't be skilled with actual weapons," Valencia mutters.

Afterwards Ash does a little work with the weights. He's actually pretty strong for looking like an undersized runt. He certainly wouldn't be winning a fight against myself or Pompeii, but I wouldn't be surprised if he could defeat the girls or Mercury.

Soon it comes time for us Careers to decide whether he belongs in our group or not. "I say that we let him in," To my surprise, Mario is the first to speak on his behalf. "I mean, more numbers is better, right?"

"I don't like the little cretin!" Aphrodite says, her haughty nose in the air. "How could we possibly trust him? Just look at him! He'll betray us the first opportunity he gets!"

"If it doesn't work out, we could always just kill him," Valencia says with a grin. I raise an eyebrow at her. That girl seems to think killing is the be-all-end-all of problems. Well, since this is the Hunger Games, that might be true.

"I, for one, think that we should--" Pompeii never gets to say what he thinks, for at that moment Ash shouts over at us.

"Can y'all hurry up? I ain't got all day, ya know!"

Aphrodite hisses under her breath. "He has such horrid grammar!"

Pompeii rolls his eyes as he turns to face the boy. "I'm making an executive decision. Ash Vile, you are hereby allowed into the Careers!"

Ash's way of celebrating this announcement is by giving a simple nod. He's certainly a stoic fellow. Not that it's a bad thing. I much prefer his personality type to the snobbish Aphrodite or the overly excited Valencia.

"There's now eight of us," Mercury says as he shakes hands with Ash.

"And that's a full third of the competition," Pompeii agrees with a nod of his head. "That should put us in prime Games dominating position."

The other Careers murmur their agreement, but I find myself passively pessimistic. Yes, our numbers are larger than the rest of the tributes, but that doesn't necessitate our dominance. If we are to make some foolish mistakes, then I would not be surprised to see us fall early in the Games. That is the problem with alliances. If the rest of your group does not perform, they might as well drag you down with them.

Lavender Morton (District 6)
Armado heaves his spear across the room, the weapon whizzing through the air before the steel tip digs into the target. He grunts with satisfaction then immediately reaches for another spear.

I sigh and lean back against the weapon rack. How long is he going to be at this? It's been over an hour since training started, and he's yet to move on from this single station. I don't know what he's trying to accomplish.

"Shouldn't we be doing something else?" I ask as he throws another spear. This one also hits the target.

"Like what?" He picks up yet another spear, examining its tips like it's any different than the others.

"I don't know. Looking for allies?" It was an easy decision to align myself with Armado; I knew him before the Games, after all. Why would I abandon him after surviving the chaos in District 6 with him? He's a known commodity, someone I've already forged a bond with. I trust him with my life.

But that doesn't mean he can't annoy the hell out of me.

"You can go look for some yourself," he says as he throws the next spear. He nods his head as it slams into the target. "You don't need my help for that."

I cross my arms as I try not to sigh. "And what if the people I choose annoy you? Or you don't get along with them?" Honestly, you'd think he'd put more thought into this!

He shrugs, reaching for another spear. "You'll choose someone good. I trust you."

"Yeah, well, I also thought Morina would be a useful friend and look where that got us."

Armado lets out a hiss of breath just as he lets go of the spear, throwing off his aim. The spear quickly loses speed and begins to spin halfway to the target. It bounces uselessly off the side and goes clattering across the floor.

"Don't even mention that little monster!" I can see the rage in Armado's eyes as he yanks another spear off the rack and takes aim. "She's the reason we're even here!"

Morina. Morina Patrickson. I thought that we could trust her, that she was on our side. She seemed like such a nice girl. And what did she do? She betrayed us. Left us to get captured by Peacekeepers, who in turn brought us to the Capitol as tributes. She's to blame for this whole mess.

Armado hates her. When we first arrived at the Training Center she was all he would speak of. Talking about how she was a traitorous brat and how she deserved to be the one stuck in the Games. I wouldn't be surprised if he imagines that target is Morina's face.

I understand his rage, I really do. But I don't feel any of it myself. Morina made a terrible decision, one that, in all likelihood, will result in our deaths. But I don't want to kill her, or hurt her, or do anything to her. I just want to ask her why.

She said it was because Armado was part of a gang back in District 6, but is that reason enough to hate him? To let me suffer at the same time? There must be more to her motivation. I just don't know what.

Armado has gone silent, intensely focused on his spear throwing. I decide to leave him be. I have a feeling that the reason he doesn't want to pick our allies is because he's afraid they'll betray him. That's okay. I'll pick for us. I'll pick someone that I know can trusted. Or, at least, I'll pick someone who I know why they'll betray us.

Stepping away from the spear station, I begin to cast my gaze around the gymnasium. The Careers are still flocked around majority of the weapon stations, showing off their vastly superior skills and knowledge. There's no point in talking to them.

The girl from District 0 is at the Gauntlet, trying to slowly pick her way across. I don't know much about her, but she's too busy to talk to right now. I instead wander across the room, trying to see if anyone will approach me. Surely I'm an attractive alliance proposal, right?

The fact that no one even tries to talk to me after a good ten minutes of wandering does little for my self-confidence.

Finally I get fed up with this and just walk up to the nearest tributes--the pair of siblings from District 11. They're crouched beside the Fire Making station, feeding a small fire. The boy looks up sharply as I stop beside them.

"What do you want?" He demands, his cold gaze taking me in. I try not to feel intimated. He's amongst the largest tributes here, dwarfed only by Avan from District 10.

"I, uh, wanted to speak with you..." God, I wish Armado wasn't so absorbed with those spears! Having him by my side would do wonders for my confidence.

"About?" The boy arches an eyebrow at me. His sister, I notice, stays focused on the small fire. She doesn't even look up at me.

"An alliance." Might as well get it out there quickly. No point in prolonging the conversation.

"With you?"

No, with the blind monkey I have hidden in my pants! I feel like blurting this out, but I don't think it would help gain this boy's trust. "Yes. But not just with me. My district partner, Armado, would also be apart of the alliance."

I point him out for the boy and he nods slowly, rubbing his chin with a massive hand. "He certainly looks capable," he turns to his sister. "What do you think, Omega?"

"I don't care." The girl still doesn't look up.

"Okay, then." The boy rubs his hands together for some reason. "Then I guess we're aligned. I'm Alpha, she's Omega."

The beginning and the end. Fitting. "I'm Lavender," I say.

I hope that Armado likes these two. They're all I'm going to get. Too big of an alliance has too many variables. Besides, Armado can't really complain. He decided not to be apart of this, so if he doesn't like my choice, he only has himself to blame, really.

Nicholas Mecha (District 5)
They've ignored me so far.

I thought that was what I wanted. To be ignored. Overlooked. I thought I was prepared for that. After all, I had been avoided back in District 5 for years. Avoided by my peers. By people on the streets. Then by people who used to be my friends.

But being avoided and being ignored are two very different things.

At least back in District 5, I had friends before I made the pact. Before I became the boy who no one would speak to because they were afraid. Here, I don't even have that. I'm not even someone worth avoiding. I'm no one.

I'm a tribute in the Hunger Games. Nothing more.

So, from my table in the corner of the room, I focus on the one thing that's been a comfort to me here: the food. Breakfast, lunch, dinner, and sometimes in between, I've been stuffing my face. Because I can. Because it's the only comfort left to me. And even though my stomach aches and feels like it's ready to burst, I can't stop. Because at least this way I'm doing something. I can feel something.

Something that lets me know I'm still alive.

Lunch today is as grand as the last two days: a delicious soup with more flavors than I could name, a roast bird that is probably some relative of a chicken or duck. In any case, it's delicious. And then the desserts. I know I shouldn't fill myself with sweets, but I can't help it.

If I win the Games--a big if, especially considering the fact that Satan may be working against me--I'll do my best to try and make the world better. Maybe I'll find a way to end the war. Who knows? A Victor has a lot of influence. Maybe I could convince the Capitol citizens to give up on war and try for peace.

My stomach lurches and roils. I drop my fork, hands clutching my belly. Shouldn't have eaten so much. I knew that was a bad idea. Really hope I don't spill my lunch all over the cafeteria. That would be bad. Really bad.

"Amazing! What an astonishing creation of man's toil!" Beside me, my ally Topher let's out a sudden exclamation as he looks over his lunch. He's a strange one, alright. He thought that all the weapons were the greatest things he saw, and that a fire was "a wondrous breakthrough in the war against snow". He has some oddities, that's for sure, but I like him for those oddities.

"Tell me young one, what has the community dubbed such a commodity?” Topher turns to me, brandishing a spork in his left hand.

"Uh...a spork?"

"Fascinating! Utterly fascinating! The names mankind gives their tools will never cease to amaze!" The boy gets lost in his meal, occasionally gasping with wonder as he spots something he's never seen before.

I'm too concerned about my stomach bursting to really pay attention to him. Squirming around in my seat, I try to hold my lunch inside. I imagine vomiting it all over the floor. Could there be anything worse? No. Need to take my mind off the possibility. I let my gaze wander around the cafeteria.

Topher and I sit at a table tucked away in the corner of the cafeteria. The Careers dominate the largest table in the very center of the room; their chatter is boisterous and obtrusive. Another large table is occupied by an alliance of five tributes, the second largest alliance, behind only the Careers. I think they're this years Anti-Careers.

I don't know what to make of them. They seem like nice people, but the fact that they're aligned against me makes them enemies. I'd prefer not to have any enemies, but that's not feasible in the Games.

There's only one other alliance after those two; the pair from 11 teamed with the pair from 6. They sit quietly, eating their food without saying much. They look strong, despite their dejected mannerisms.

Every other tribute sits by themselves, eating their own meal in complete silence. Frankly, I find it odd that Topher and I are the only small pairing. What is everyone else doing?

"Excuse me, is this spot open?" A boy appears at the head of our table. He's tall and skinny, with a small smile playing on the edge of his lips. As I struggle to place his District, Topher reacts.

"Oh, gracious me! What is that wondrous object you have there?" The russet-haired boy points a finger at a green fruit sitting on the newcomers tray.

"That's, uh, it's a pear." The boy's eyes slide to me and I can only shrug. I have no idea what Topher is up to.

"My! What an intriguing name!" Without asking, much less getting permission, Topher reaches forward and snatches the green fruit. "Amazing! Astonishing! Unbelievable! The texture is simply sublime!" As Topher begins to rub the pear with slow circular movements, I feel that I need to step in before things get any weirder.

"I'm Nicholas. He's Topher; don't mind his oddities, he never got out much." I stand up, only to remember my upset stomach as it churns uneasily. I grit my teeth to prevent any accidents.

"I'm Bastien," The boy sets his tray down and shakes my hand. Thankfully we both sit after that. My stomach is grateful. "Are you guys allied?"

"We are, actually. We were--Knock that off!" I swat the pear out of Topher's hand. He pauses mid-rub, then turns to Bastien and grins.

"You're from District 14," He says, surprising me with his knowledge. I had no idea Topher knew that much. I certainly didn't.

"Yeah, I am." Bastien laughs lightly. "Our District's got weather to die for."

"District Zero's weather kills you too. But only if you stay outside long enough."

There's a short silence. Then Bastien breaks out laughing. "Man, that's funny. You guys are great!"

I'm glad that he thinks so. Though I myself find Topher to be quite pleasant, I wouldn't be surprised if many people found him unbearable. Not Bastien, though. The two of them seem to be on a fast track to friendship, already exchanging cringe-worthy jokes as they eat.

Maybe he could ally with us? Bastien would certainly prove a worthwhile ally. While he's rather skinny, he is one of the tallest tributes here, and his skills with weapons can't be much worse than Topher's.

Before I can ask him to join, however, two more people stop by our table.

"Well isn't this a fun little gathering!" A very pretty girl with long strawberry blonde hair smiles brightly at the sight of us as the second girl with her stares blankly ahead. "Much better than that dour table over there." She jerks a thumb at the District 6/11 alliance, where they continue to eat in utter silence.

"Yeah, they're not a happy bunch," I say, returning her smile. Topher grins stupidly and offers a handshake, to my surprise. When I first met him, he had no idea what a handshake was. When I offered him one, he handed me the stick he was holding.

"Sumptuous morning!" He let's out a loud greeting as the girl shakes his hand.

"I'm Elia," She introduces herself. "And that's Emma. We were looking for more people to align with when we saw you."

"Neat. So were we." I look over at Bastien. I'm still not sure if he's with us. Right now, he's just staring at the two girls like they just descended from the clouds or something. "Think that we could join you?"

"Sure. Why not? The more the merrier!" Elia's smile widens as she sits down across from me. Emma does the same, but more slowly. She doesn't seem nearly as cheerful as her friend. I wonder why?

"You two are very beautiful." I cringe as Topher smiles at the girls. I should have expected that a guy who never left his house--and thus never saw a girl his own age before--would have no idea how to properly speak with one. Saying things like that out of the blue makes you look like a creep!

The girls don't seem to mind, oddly enough. Elia just laughs and calls him charming, while Emma cracks a small smile. Bastien groans loudly. "Dude. Have you ever even spoken to a girl before?"

"No. But I know from books!" Topher nods his head, a stupid grin plastered on his face. "First, you woo them with songs and flowers. Then you rescue them from certain death, and finally, they reward you!"

Well, that's one way of putting it, I suppose. As our table is filled with lively chatter and laughter, I begin to feel better. But that feeling does not last long. The knowledge of the broken pact is ever constant in my mind. At first, I thought that Satan was simply trying to get me killed. But now I fear something worse.

What if he intends for me to live, but forces me to watch the death of everyone I know and love? What if all these wonderful people--Topher, Elia, Emma, and Bastien--die in the arena and I am helpless to stop it? That would be the worst. That would be almost unbearable.

I close my eyes and pray for the best.

Corin Greer (District 5)
As lunchtime slowly passes, I sit alone at my table and watch the other tributes filter back into the gymnasium.

I need an ally.

I'd prefer not to have one, really. I work best when alone, after all. But I'm not dumb enough to go into the arena alone. I'd be an easy target, someone everyone else would think to kill. Needless to say, that would hamper my survival chances.

But who to select as an ally? I am not at all exaggerating when I say that this choice is the biggest I will ever make in the Games. Selecting someone untrustworthy or dumb, reckless or arrogant, will result in our shared demise. If I fail to select someone worthy, I will fail to survive these Games.

The Anti-Careers shuffle pass my table, talking quietly to themselves. I've already ruled them out. A large alliance is not a place I intend to reside. Too much chaos. My gaze flickers past them to where the District 10 male, Avan, is swinging an axe around.

Truth be told, he was my first pick for an alliance. Strong, intelligent, self-dependent. He had everything I sought in an ally. Unfortunately, he does not seem to wish for any sort of alliance.

Already he's been approached by many other tributes. The Anti-Careers and the Fools--the name the Careers have attached to the alliance formed around the District 5 male--both asked Avan to join them. He declined. He even refused offers from a pair of loners, and an invitation from the Careers themselves. Suffice to say, he does not wish to burden himself with anyone.

Finding a single ally might prove quite troublesome. Already more than half of the tributes have flocked together and formed packs. Those that haven't joined one present their own problems.

Takeko from District Ten seems to have aligned herself with Carey from Twelve. The two of them stand near the elevators, conversing quietly. Carey stares ahead blankly, her eyes hollow and empty of emotion.

I've always known the eyes to the gateway to the soul. They tell you more about a person then words ever could. Carey, for example, seems to have lost something dear to her. The haunting, empty look in her eyes shows that. Yet I sense a strong feeling of desperation beneath that hollow shell. Anyone thinking her to be an easy kill is in for a surprise.

Takeko, for her part, is equally enthralling. Her light brown eyes shine with what I can only describe as a desire for vengeance. Someone has wronged her, perhaps did something to somebody she loves, and she will stop at nothing to see them destroyed.

I find myself wishing for her to die early in the Games. Someone with that strong of a motivation is too deadly to let hang around.

Nevertheless, I will not align myself with those two. Too unpredictable. Too risky. I allow my gaze to search out the few other loners.

Nylah is too much like myself. Twan is bland and unassuming. Literally nothing about him stands out to me. I'm not completely writing him off, but I pass over for now. Ophelia just doesn't meet the cut. Surorian is an interesting case. While he's certainly strong and intelligent enough to be my ally, I can't help but get an uneasy feeling as I watch him throw spears. If I aligned with him, I wouldn't be surprised to find a blade driven between my shoulder blades.

Then there's Cecil.

I watch him as he handles throwing stars, carefully going over them. I cannot see his eyes. The dark sunglasses that he always wears blocks them from my sight. He is a mystery, a conundrum. I do not know if he's a good ally, but I wish to find out.

If he's not, then I suppose I could always ally with Twan, as bland as he is.

I get up from the table and drift across the gymnasium towards Cecil as he begins to whip the throwing stars forward. I stop just on the edge of the training section, watching as he throws. Each star manages to hit the foam dummy, forming an almost perfect semi-circle on its face. Impressive.

"That's pretty good," I say as he finishes throwing the last of the stars. Immediately his head snaps towards me.

"Who're you?"

Strange question, but a perfectly valid one. "Corin Greer. District 5."

He nods slowly. "Right. I'm Cecil from District 8." He picks another stack of throwing stars off a nearby table and goes back to throwing them. I cross my arms and watch. Once more he always hits the dummy.

"Where'd you learn to throw those...things?" I try to start a conversation. I need to know as much about him as possible if I am to propose an alliance.

"Shuriken. They're called shurikens." When all the weapons have been thrown, Cecil stops and walks off the station, grabbing a water bottle and drinking deeply from it.

"Where'd you learn to throw them like that?" He has to have had prior experience. No way he learned to throw them so accurately in such a short amount of time he's been provided.

"Back home. I learned a lot of self-defense in my life." He stands awkwardly in front of me, occasionally throwing his head around to look at the other tributes as they shout and train.

"Didn't think District 8 was in a very good condition," I say, remembering what I overheard some Peacekeepers saying back home.

"It's not. But I learned before the...war." War. Most people in District 5 have been calling it a "rebellion". Makes me wonder what kind of things he's seen back in District 8. I can't ask, though. It doesn't matter to me. I need to focus on the Games, nothing else.

"Why are you so interested in me anyway?" Cecil finally asks the question I thought he would start with.

I shrug. "Was wondering if you would be a good ally."

"Y-you were?" Surprise is evident on both his face and in his voice. I'm actually surprised that he's surprised. Being as skilled as he is, you'd think that he'd expect an alliance request.

"Yeah. You interested?"

"I...I mean, why do you want an alliance with me?"

"Is there any reason why I wouldn't want an alliance?" Something is up with him. I don't know what. I peer into his face, trying to get a grasp on his thought process. God, I hate those sunglasses. Can't see eyes, can't understand what he's thinking.

"No. Nothing in particular." Cecil shakes his head, a wry smile forming on his face. "So, you want an alliance, huh?"

"That's what I just said," I'm not a fan of the way he's dragging this conversation out. "So, once again, you interested? If not, tell me quickly. I'll need to go speak with Twan if you decline."

"Of course I'm interested!" Cecil bobbles his head excitedly.

"Good." So my ally question has finally been answered. Cecil is a strong, skillful boy. I'm certain that this will be a lucrative partnership. I stick out a hand for the customary handshake, but Cecil only smiles, not taking it.

"So, should we train together? I mean, if we're allies, then we should know each other's strengths, right?"

I pull my hand back, feeling a little miffed. "Yeah. Yeah, that would be best."

The two of head off for another station, determined to use our allocated training time to the best of our ability.

Mercury Kwildor (District 1)
I roll out of bed at the ringing of my alarm. Yawning, I reach out to turn it off but instead find my arm brushing against the wall. I blink twice in surprise before remembering that I'm not in my own room. Right.

I stretch my limbs out after turning it off for real. Today could be a big day. The second and last day of group training, I'm going to have to use it to my best advantage, especially considering that, for the first time, the training period has been filmed.

I actually didn't know this until last night, when I saw the footage on the television. It's a unexpected move, but not really a surprising one. Of course the Capitol wants everyone to see us training, more exposure equals higher ratings, after all. It's also had an effect on the betting. Tributes with an impressive showing yesterday, like Surorian, shot right up in odds. On the other side of the spectrum, people like Topher saw theirs plummet.

I need to make my own strong impression. I need to prove that just because I'm homosexual, I'm not any less of a threat.

I reflect on this as I dress for the day. It's not the Capitol who I need to prove it too, they're perfectly fine with me. It's the District's. I realize that I won't be a fan favorite with them--odds are I'll be their least favorite, or at least among them--but that won't stop me. Nothing will.

Once I'm finished dressing I hurry out to the dining room. Valencia and our mentors are already there, eating. As I sit down at my own spot, I ignore the sneer I get from Copper, one of our mentors. He's like Fierro, a person who won't approve of me no matter what I do.

Still, it bugs me that he's one of the most influential figures in District 1.

"So what's your plans for the day, lovelies?" Anais Morrisa, our other mentor, smiles as she pops a grape into her mouth. Leaning back in her chair, with a perfectly manicured figure, she looks the part of District 1's most recent Victor. And deadliest. She holds the record for the most kills by a female tribute in a single Hunger Games.

"Oh, you know," Valencia flashes one of her trademark grins, her long blonde braids swishing behind her head. "Showcase my skills, intimidate the competition, the usual."

"I'm going to show off my true strength," I reply primly.

"That won't be hard," Copper says with a smirk. "It's not like you have any real strength anyway."

I feel all the muscles in my body tense. "You want to see my real strength?"

He laughs. "Kid, if you and I were to fight, you wouldn't last more than ten seconds."

"I wouldn't be so sure of that." I don't care about his accomplishments. He's still not going to best me in a fight. Not with that attitude.

"I made three kills at the bloodbath alone," Copper picks up his mug and takes a sip. The implication is clear.

"You think I couldn't do that?"

"Oh, I know you can't."

Valencia and Anais smile broadly, obviously enjoying this altercation. But I just feel annoyed. I've already gone through this! Enough! I'm not going to waste my time with someone who'll never be impressed with me.

I focus on my meal, quietly eating my food. Everyone else seems disappointed that the argument has ended. Even those two girls who seem to function as Anais' bodyguards seem upset. Phaw!

After breakfast, Valencia and I are silently shuffled into the elevator. Once we're alone, the blonde girl chuckles softly. "He played you like a fiddle."

"He did not." Even though Valencia was at the academy the same time I was, I don't remember what her thoughts on my situation are.

"Yes, he did. You're going to try and best his bloodbath performance now, aren't you?"

"I am not." The words feel hollow coming out. Truth be told, I was considering trying to outperform Copper. That's the best way of shutting him up, after all. But now I feel like that might be playing right into his hands.

"You're a terrible liar," She makes a pouty face which quickly transitions into a grin. "Just remember, you're apart of my alliance. Get yourself killed doing something stupid, and I'll murder you, alright?"

The elevators open just at that moment and she skips into the gymnasium, heading straight for Harley and Aphrodite, who're sitting at an empty cafeteria table. I exit more slowly. The encounter with Copper has got me thinking, and now I can't stop wondering what I should do.

Still deep in thought, I wander over to where the rest of the Careers have gathered. Training hasn't yet started, and the only other tributes that have arrived are the District 10 tributes, so they're just loitering around the Gauntlet.

"--I'm telling you that we shouldn't overlook them," Silve is saying to Pompeii. The redheaded boy has his hands clasped behind his back and staring our leader down with his strikingly blue eyes.

"I'm not overlooking them, I just don't see them as a credible threat," Pompeii replies smoothly.

"What are they talking about?" I stop beside Mario and Ash, both of whom are sitting on the steps of the Gauntlet watching the conversation.

Ash shrugs. "Don't know, don't care."

"They're speaking about the Anti-Careers and whether we should be worried about them," Little Mario answers. I like her. Despite her size, or lack thereof, I think that she's the most well-rounded person in this alliance. "Silve thinks we should make sure to cull their numbers early, Pompeii just doesn't care."

"Oh." I watch as the two continue their discussion. I don't know if Silve is putting too much thought into this, or if the rest of us aren't putting enough. He's the only one who really seems focused on game strategy; we're all just making it up as we go along. "Whose in the Anti's, again?"

Ash shrugs once more. "Don't know, don't care."

"The District 3 tributes, the 8 female, the 9 male, and Luigi from 13," Mario answers without missing a beat. I feel a little bad that I didn't bother to remember who was in the alliance that is, by the very definition of the name, against us.

"Thanks, Mario." I pat the girl on the head. "Those are some intriguing opponents."

As we fall silent, I'm once more left with my thoughts. I'll make a name for myself in these Games no matter what. The only question is whether or not it'll be a good one.

Takeko Zhou (District 10)
No tribute here is a threat to me. Some would say that I am overconfident, but they would be wrong. It is not arrogance when it is the truth. The Careers have been trained in the way of battle, but they lack the true passion and skill required to be truly great. They will be decent opposition, but in the end that is all they will be. Opposition that was eliminated by the eventual Victor.

Carey sits beside me, watching as the tributes from District 6 exit the elevator and join the ever-growing throng. Soon the second day of training will commence and we'll be allowed to further hone our skills.

Not that I need the practice. My skills are already near perfect.

Neither Carey nor I say anything as we wait. And why would we? What is there to say? We both know what needs to happen. We both know that everyone must die for us to live, including each other. When the time comes, I'll kill Carey without blinking an eye, and I know she'll do the same to me. Our alliance is one born of necessity, nothing more.

Carey is not exactly the most threatening of tributes; she is thin and boney, with bloodshot eyes that always stare blankly ahead. Her plain brown hair is cut short in an utilitarian buzzcut, and scars cover each cheek of her face. She's seen some terrible stuff in her life, and has some ghosts of the past haunting her, but I do not know what. Nor do I care.

I have my own ghosts to kill.

I watch the Gamemakers as they sit on the raised platform above us, shielded by a forcefield. They're not as elaborately dressed as I have come to expect from Capitolites. They're wearing purple outfits, situated around an plain gray table as they quietly chatter amongst themselves.

They remind me of the last person I need to kill, the last surviving member of the cartel that murdered my parents. Technically, they were members of my father's cartel. Betrayal. It's what made their already unforgivable crimes worse. What made their deaths even more necessary then they were.

Only one more death to go. Once he is dead, I will rebuild my father's empire from the ruins of Panem and rule it with an iron fist. I will be the most powerful person alive. But first things first. I must win these Games.

"Your district partner has joined the Careers," I say idily to Carey as I notice the blond boy sitting with the pack. "Does he think that they'll protect him, or is he just fond of killing?"

"He's trying to protect his siblings," Carey doesn't look up as she responds. She sounds strangely...bitter. Envious, almost. "They're the only things he cares about in this world. Lucky him."

"Wait. You spoke with him?" Carey doesn't speak with anyone! She's barely said more than three sentences to me, and I'm her ally.

"Yes." Carey turns her head away to stare at the wall. I will not be getting any more out of her. That's fine. I don't need any more information. All I need is to further refine my skills, and seeing as all the tributes have finally arrived, I can finally do that.

Mario Firth (District 4)
As all the tributes gather around, Kekai blows his whistle, starting the second day of group training. My movements are sure and bold as I head straight for the spears. While the majority of the other tributes aren't an immediate threat, I am concerned with the height and strength of my fellow Careers.

I grew up with the knives, so it was hard to let them go when picking up a weapon, but I am at a severe disadvantage with my short little knives. Already I'm hampered by my small height and light weight, and with knives, I'd easily have to get within arm's reach to attack them, putting me in far too much danger. I prefer to throw them, true, but that alone won't guarantee my victory.

"What did I tell you, Mario? You should have picked something with a little better range, or the others will squish you like a bug." The voice of my sister Reese speaks to me as I pick up a spear. She had ragged on me for my weapon's choice for years, even though half the time I was able to work my way through her defense, but fifty percent is not a good enough probability for the Games. I need an increase.

The more control I have, the easier the Games will be, and the faster I will get home. I frown as I heft the spear. They seem thicker than the ones back home and I don't care much for the steel shaft; I can already feel my grip slipping and my hands aren't even sweaty.

I throw the spear quickly. My enemy isn't going to wait for me to set my feet, so I work on reflex and reaction time. The spear hits the waistline and I make a noise of disgust. Debilitating, sure, but certainly not fatal. I'm going to need to lot of my time here, but I make a mental note to check out poison plants. Over the years I've seen a handful of Careers die from carelessly eating poisoned fruit--I vow I will not be one of them.

Spears aren't my preferred weapon. In all honestly, I'd rather use a trident. Tridents and spears are similar, but they're certainly not the same thing. Being skilled with one doesn't equate to being awesome with the other, not when they're so different to wield and hold. Yet I cannot just focus soley on tridents; they're not always provided at the cornucopia, but spears are.

Just as I get ready to throw the next spear, I hear a tutting behind me, "No, no, you're not holding it right. Your body is completely out of line and those feet are a disgrace."

I raise my eyebrows as I look at a Capitol trainer walk over to me at a clipped pace. His pale eyes are rather startling in his white face and I wonder where he got the idea that he would look good with such pale skin, made paler by his sleek blue hair.

He doesn't even ask permission before he's straitening my body out and I don't hesitate to slap his hands away.

"I know how to stand!"

"Then do it!"

"Not every stance can be perfect while making a split second decision," I argue. Trying that in the Games will get a person killed.

"You'll be in more danger if you can't even throw straight."

He does however fix my grip on the spear so that it feels more comfortable in my hands and my next throw lands just a shade below the heart. I hesitate to thank him, but a thought strikes me and I do my best to put a humble smile on.

"Thank you for your instruction. Can you help me with anything else?"

I glance around the room very quickly to take stock of everyone. Silve is talking to that really weird boy, Surorian? I can't remember. Valencia whaling at a dummy with a shiny sword. It strikes me as disturbing that I am no longer shocked by her voraciousness. I silently warn myself not to become too comfortable with her psychotic behavior, lest my attention lapse at a critical moment.

Pompeii is acting the hot shot, being in a sword fight with a trainer, but instead of a straight fight he's doing all these fancy moves and twirls. I see half a dozen openings alone to get through his defenses, but the trainer seems awestruck at having such an athletic student. I don't pay much attention to the rest of the poor tributes. They're practically living corpses and the thoughts of their deaths make me nauseous.

Not seeing them as people doesn't feel right, but what can I do about it? They are all destined for death. It's not like that can be changed. Still, if I am to be the one to kill them, I'll make sure to do it quickly.

I shake myself free of the thought and refocus on my plan. To be receiving instruction like this from a trainer will probably make the other Careers look at me as the weakest link. Let them. They'll just be even more surprised when I stab them all in the face and win these Games.

Lilah Jöllenbeck (District 8)
They're going to kill you, you know. Violet's voice pounds through my head as I watch Jonah and Luigi run the Gauntlets, Teddy and Jayda cheering them on. ''They're only keeping you around so that they have a scapegoat for when something goes wrong. They'll kill you without a second thought.''

Be quiet, I snap back at her. ''You're not even real. How would you know?''

Violet laughs cruelly. ''You actually believe that nonsense? You're pathetic!''

I squeeze my eyes shut tight, willing Violet to go away. She's not real. Dr. Strauss told me so. I suffer from...schizophrenia, I think he called it? Yes, schizophrenia. I suffer from that, and Violet is just a manifestation of my mind, and she's not real. I don't believe it, but that's what he says. That she's not real at all.

Keep telling yourself that, you stupid little--

I clap my hands over my ears, and am surprised when Violet actually shuts up. That doesn't usually work. Violet typically keeps ranting on and on and on. Maybe I'm finally learning how to shut her up. I hope so. I hate her. And she's only gotten worse since I've been shoved into these Games.

Always talking about how I'll die. How brutally I'll die. How I'll deserve it. How Ashton deserved it. How Violet will--

"Hey, Lilah!"

"Shut up! Shut up, you psychopathic--" My words cut off as I realize that it's not Violet whose speaking, not her whom I just screamed at. Jonah backs off from me, his eyes wide with surprise. Beside him, Jayda and Teddy watch with stunned expressions.

Oh, God. Oh, God. This was the first time I've broken down in front of them. Let them see through the sugary sweet facade I've been hiding behind. I can hear Violet chuckling. So she was only pretending to be gone. She probably planned this.

"I-I'm sorry, Jonah," I stammer out an apology, my thoughts drowned out by Violet's laughter. "I'm just...stressed."

My explanation sounds lame, even to me. They would be justified to kick me out from the alliance, to abandon me. But Jonah only nods, his eyes watching my face closely. "Yeah. I see..."

"We're all a little stressed," Jayda says softly, walking up to us. Her face is full of concern. "It's understandable that we might snap under the pressure."

Snap. Lose control. Violet could take control of my body, she's done it before. She makes me say things I don't wanna say, do things I don't wanna do. Dr. Strauss thinks she's not real, but he's wrong. If she wasn't real, then how could she do the things she does? How could she so thoroughly take control of me?

"Guys, over here!" Luigi waves at us from beside the Holographic Chamber. It's last occupants, the Fools, are already shuffling away from it. "Let's try our luck!"

We all walk over and join our leader around the box. He, of course, offers to try it out first. I watch as he enters the box, so full of confidence. He'll kill you the moment he sees how weak you truly are. Violet sounds smug.

"Shut up. You're just jealous," I grit my teeth, wishing for the umpteenth time that she would just leave me alone.

Jealous? She laughs loudly. ''Of what? Those pitiful humans you call friends? No thanks, you can keep those weaklings to yourself.''.

"I said you were jealous, not envious," I just want to beat myself senseless, beat Violet out of my head. Why does she seem to have so much more control then I do? "You're jealous because you think that if I get close with them, I'll forget all about you and you'll be left alone."

Silence.

Did I get it right? Is Violet truly afraid that I'll forget about her? I want to call her back and ask her, but at the same time I'm thankful for the quiet inside my head. Before I was sent into the Games, she was appearing less and less. But since then, she's been more active. Is she afraid I'll die?

Cheers erupt from my allies beside me. Inside the Holographic Chamber, Luigi thrusts his spear through the last hologram. Words flash across the box proclaiming his victory.

"Nice job!" Jonah fist bumps the taller boy as he exits.

"Thanks!" Words are exchanged. Pleasantries. Happiness. So short lived. So sad. Soon everyone will die. I will die. Violet will die. Perhaps that is for the best. I don't know. There seems to be so much that I don't know.

As Jayda enters the chamber, I hear Violet's quiet voice in my head. ''You won't die. Trust me, you won't die. You'll win these Games. I'll make sure you do.''

Nylah Nichole (District 14)
As the bell rings and the second day of trainings lunch begins, I select a table at the far end of the cafeteria and sit and watch as everyone else funnels in.

I've spent this precious time differently than everyone else has. While they've focused soley on improving their strengths and shoring up their weaknesses, I watched. While they created alliances and formed pacts, I observed their tendencies. When they thought no one was there to see, I was.

I know more about these tributes then perhaps even the Gamemakers do.

The Careers, loud and boisterous as they commandeer the largest table, are the first to arrive. They sit down and laugh as they talk, their every little action being analysed. Pompeii, their leader, shows a front of being tough and carefree, but beneath that vaneer is a self-conscious boy. He's always looking at his hands when he thinks no one can see, always fidgeting with them. His metal hands are perhaps his biggest weakness as well as greatest strength.

Valencia, so proud and playful. She has a tendency to anger quickly, and does not enjoy underperforming. I saw her tantrum when she failed the Ropes Course. In that one moment, she showed all the weaknesses I could ever possibly need to know.

Mercury is indecisive and an utter failure with plants. Silve is overly suspicious, constantly checking over his shoulder for nonexistent threats. Aphrodite is arrogant to a fault and easily manipulated--she is wrapped around Pompeii's thumb. And Mario, little Mario, her size betrays her, but so too does her disdain for any and all symbols of authority. She'll do what she wants when she wants.

People think that the Careers are infallible, but I know that they are not. They're human--weak and exploitable, just like us all. I can take them down.

The Anti-Careers file in behind them, their namesake alone making them a credible threat. Their leader is a particular case, he shows little weakness. But take away his allies, and what will he become? Time will tell.

Jonah and Teddy are too dependent on their allies. They'll die without assistance. Jayda and Lilah both have some form of mental weakness--one talks to herself, the other stares off into space. Both inflictions will cause trouble in the Games.

The second two large alliances seat themselves at tables closer to me. The Fools--well, they are fools. I need say no more. The District 11 pair are entirely too attached to one another. The brother will do anything to protect his sister. Kill her, and you have effectively killed him as well.

Lavender is slow and lacks real skill with a weapon. The District 8 girl seems to be afraid of her, however. I haven't managed to work that one out yet. Her district partner, Armado, is one of the most well-rounded tributes. He doesn't have any devastating weaknesses, and his strengths work well to his advantage. He is someone to watch.

I stiffen as two people take the table next to mine. Corin and Cecil. The boy won't be a threat--he is blind. I don't think any of the other tributes have noticed, Corin certainly hasn't, but that alone makes it nigh impossible for him to win. I'm not being prejudice, I'm being realistic.

The girl stares at me as she sits, her brown eyes narrowing. A white, black-fringed half-cape flutters over her shoulders. I haven't been able to pinpoint her weaknesses yet, but I will. One can only hide them for so long.

"You watching us for a reason?" She surprise me with a direct question. Cecil spins around in his seat.

"What do you want?" Though he stares right at me, I know that he cannot possibly know who I am. Yet he knew where I sat. Perhaps he heard Corin's movements and mimicked them?

"I want nothing. Especially from you." Few people ever speak with me. They're often too afraid or disgusted.

She laughs a humorless laugh. "Yeah, okay then. Don't think I don't know what you're doing."

"Oh? What am I doing?"

"You're analyzing all the tributes, scanning them for their weaknesses." I clench my jaw. So she is more observant then I thought. That makes her dangerous. Dangerous people are a threat to my survival. Threats must be eliminated.

I turn my back on the girl without giving a response and I hear her hiss of breath as I do. Corin Greer has just catapulted to the top of my list of worthwhile opponents. I don't think that she'll like what that entails for her.

Surorian Chaos (The Capitol)
Unbridled rage burns inside me as I practice with my blade. The steel sword is like a feather in my hands, weightless and easy to swing. I slice through training dummies with the greatest of ease. Upon my completion of the circuit, the trainer applauds me for my skills.

His praise does nothing for me. There is only one person whom I strive to see my true strength.

President Leopold Stryker.

Anger flares in my system as I think about him. He didn't take me seriously. Doesn't take me seriously. I should be leading an army in the war effort against those Blackcloaks, but I am not. That damned fool sent me here instead, to play games with children.

I watch the Career Pack as they finish eating and return to the weapon stations, talking loudly as they pick up where they left off. Those bumbling fools are the pinnacle of combatants. The cream of the crop. And yet they do not hold a candle to me. I could kill them as easily as I kill a mouse.

Why am I wasting my time and skill here? I could be doing so much more. President Stryker wastes my talents, my convictions. Well, I'll show him. I'll win these Games, shattering all the records along the way. Hell, I might even win the Games at the bloodbath!

I smile to myself, dropping the sword to the ground as I go to over to the axe station. I shove past the boy from District 3 as I do. He tips over and loses his balance, landing butt first on the ground. I'm selecting an axe from the rack when I feel a hand on my shoulder.

"Aren't you going to apologize?"

I turn around to find that wench from District 0 behind me, her dark blue eyes filled with reproach. I snort loudly as I shake her hand off. "Apologize for what? That moron got in my way!"

"You pushed him to the floor!" Oh, so she's one of those types, is she? "He barely was in your path, yet you just shoved him!"

"Doesn't look like he minds." I run my fingers along the handle of my chosen axe, not enjoying this conversation. Had we been in the Games, this girl would be dead already.

She looks over her shoulder to search for the boy, who has already scurried away towards his allies as they group around the elevators. "That's only because you scare him!"

"Not my problem." Is this girl stupid or something? Why does she even care about something as insignificant as this? Doesn't she realize that everyone will die in that arena?

"Yeah? Well, keep up that attitude and it will be your problem!" The girl steps forward so that she's right in my face, except since I'm a half foot taller, she's more of in my chest.

"What're you gonna do about it?" I egg her on just to do it. There's literally nothing I can gain from such a stupid conversation, but I can make her angry. Make her upset. Make her feel the hatred for the system. "Hit me and you'll be thrown out of training, maybe even executed."

The girl's eyes widen in anger. She knows I'm right. Even about the execution part. My mentor told me about what really happened last Games. Personally, I hope the idiot is dumb enough to hit me. One less tribute is one step closer to victory for me.

"You won't last long in the Games if you anger everyone," The girl gives me one last glare before turning and storming off in a huff. I watch her go with a sly grin. She's nothing to me. Worth less than the dirt on my shoes.

Still, I won't mind killing her if it comes down to it.

Armado Roynclaw (District 6)
I don't trust Alpha. Oh, I know that he's technically my ally, but that doesn't mean he has my best interests at heart. He--and his sister, Omega--are only aligned with me because it best serves their game strategy. The moment that is no longer true, they will turn on us.

That's why I'm going to keep an eye on them. No one can betray you if you're already expecting them to do it.

"Armado, you need to lighten up," Lavender leans over a nearby rack, her arms crossed as the both of us watch Omega attempt to use a slingshot. She's terrible, beyond terrible, reslly. She can barely hold the thing.

I try not to sigh in exasperation. "And why would I do that? You do realize where we are, right?"

"Of course I do!" Lavender tosses her head, sunset blonde hair splaying down her back. It's much cleaner and prettier than it was back in District 6; probably because she's actually able to wash it now. "But you don't want to spend what could be your final days as a grumpy grouch, do you?"

"If being a "grumpy grouch" keeps me alive, then maybe I do." It's hard to think about how my days may be numbered. I still don't even really remember much about my life prior to waking up in that bomb shelter, so I really don't want to die now. I want to live a life I can remember, not die a forgettable death.

"Nice tributes last longer than jerks," Lavender says.

"Right." Not sure that's true at all, but I'm not going to argue. Not with Lavender. I trust her. More than anyone else. Hell, she's the only person in the world who I trust. Spanner and Braddock both deserted me at the first sign of trouble, but Lavender stuck with me. She's the only person who ever has.

Alpha walks up to help Omega along with her slingshot. He seems to be teaching her the proper way to hold it. He's so protective of his sister. So attached. That makes him dangerous.

"Armado, Alpha is a good guy," Lavender sense my thoughts. "He won't betray us unnecessarily."

"That's not what I'm worried about." What concerns me, is when his betrayal becomes necessary. When he thinks that the two of us are no longer needed. He's big and strong, fast and skilled with weapons. I'd never admit this to anyone, but the reason he concerns me so much is because I don't think I can beat him in a straight-up fight.

"He's not Morina. He won't do the same thing."

Morina. My blood boils at the name alone. What the hell was that girl thinking? Did she hate me so much that she wanted to watch me die? Well, screw her! I'm going to win these Games, then shove that knowledge in her face. I'm not dying because of her!

Except...

I watch Lavender as she stretches out and goes to help Alpha and Omega. They let her hold the slingshot and she actually manages to get a shot off, unlike Omega. Lavender doesn't deserve to be here. But because of Morina, because of me, she is. She'll die in the arena, and it'll be all my fault.

Why, oh why, couldn't I have stayed inside the shelter? Life wasn't sunshine and rainbows back there, but at least death wasn't guaranteed.

I have little desire to continue training. All the rage and justified fury has died down inside me. I just watch my "allies" train as the remaining time ticks away. Gradually the gymnasium begins to clear. The Fools are the first to leave, two of the boys cracking nonsensical jokes as the rest speak quietly with one another. A few loners follow them. Then half the Anti's. As Alpha leads the way from station to station, trying to find something that Omega is good at, the other tributes continue to exit.

Eventually, as evening begins to fall, the only people left besides for us are a handful of Careers, the District 10 male, and Cecil from 8. He's drifting from every station, trying everything once. He seems eager to get a grasp on anything he can.

"We need to get some rest," Lavender says as the Head Trainer calls for the end of training. "Tomorrow is the private sessions. We all want good scores, right?"

"I'm not good at anything," Omega says sadly.

Alpha kneels beside her. "You're good at a lot of things. Like running and climbing."

"Yeah, that'll do her a lot of good in the arena," I can't help but say, "She'll be able to run the competition to death."

Alpha scowls at me and Lavender punches me in the shoulder as Omega begins to quietly sob. I feel a little bad, but only a little. The truth is the truth, after all. You can't hide from it, nor can you run. I know, because I've tried.

Wait. Huh. A faint tickling of a memory drifts around inside my head. It's nothing substantial, but it's more than I've had before. Guess that's progress.

We enter the same elevator as Mario and Pompeii. Neither of them speak to us, but they don't outright ignore us either. It's just a peaceable silence. The calm before the storm, so to speak.

And what a storm it'll be.

Training Scores & Odds
This time around Training Scores will effect the amount of money a tribute has available to them, either negatively or positively. Below is the key that shows you what score earns what.

12= +$100

10/11= +$75

8/9= +$50

7= +25

5/6= -$25

4/3= -$50

2/1= -$75

Arena
The cornucopia is located upon a large, wooden platform that hangs over a Swamp. Overcast skies overlook a lush swampy area with tall willow trees in the shape of cypresses, and dead trees in the murky water. The more shallow water in this area is about knee-height, the bottom coated with a thick mud. The trees in the area are covered with colonies of lichens and mushrooms, the latter of which may be edible or may produce hallucinogenic visions. Despite this, the swamp itself cannot be accessed from the platform. The platform takes the form of a circle, with four spokes leading into different portions of the arena.

The eastern spoke leads to an Ominous Woods. This biome is a dark, heavily wooded area with pools of what appears to be drinkable water, but in reality is liquid poison. The thick, close-together trees and underbrush contain many thorns and Rotbloom plants, which can cause a tribute to break out into a severely painful--yet non-lethal--rash upon merely touching them. The area is filled with many dead and dying trees, as well as Penumbra Trees that produce a purplish flame and noxious scent when burnt. This is one of the most difficult biomes for tributes to survive in, but if they're okay with everything trying to kill them, it can be quite a nice place to live.

On the opposite side, the western spoke leads to a Hot Springs area. For the entirety of the biome there is nothing but sheer rock and many small pools of water. These pools are filled with bubbling water that is scalding to the touch. Needless to say, the water is not recommended for drinking nor bathing.

The southern spoke leads to a Mystic Grove. This biome is filled with large, flowering oak trees and jacaranda trees. Many vines grow along the trees here, some growing so thick that they obscure the tree's trunk entirely. It has occasional pools of drinkable water that will handily quench a tributes thirst. Tributes may be thrown off by the odd coloring of the biome, however, for the sky is a lush green, the grass dark teal and the water appears a vibrant purple. Occasionally small Pixie mutts will appear, and it will be up to the tributes to determine whether they are friend or foe.

The northern spoke leads to a Bamboo Forest. This area is relatively flat with ground made of large patches of both podzol and grass. Tall bamboo trees soar far above the tributes heads, while the ground is covered in grasses, ferns and dense oak shrubs much like other forests. However, the slender trees grab at hair and clothing and backpacks and whatever else sticks out, making reckless running ill-advised for those concerned about their safety.

Harley Paramour (District 2)
I can't sleep. I have difficulty imagining that anyone can. Tomorrow. Tomorrow bright and early, we are heading to the Games, where thirty-one of us will die and only one of us will live. Even as a Career, the thought chills me to the bone.

Right now I'm sitting in front of my giant window wall, flipping through all the scenes. Street scenes of the Capitol, a view of the President's Palace, a beautiful fountain where Capitol residents are lingering. There's a shot of a forest where the trees shoot up into the sky so high that I can't even see the tops, a lovely snow scene on a mountain…and I can't help but wonder which environment we'll be greeted with tomorrow.

It doesn't even have to be just one. In recent years the Capitol has begun mixing and matching various environments to ensure maximum excitement. They need to keep things fresh, otherwise the audience will get bored.

At least, that's what they say. I feel like that the audience would enjoy any type of games at all. They'll complain if its lacking in excitement, but that's all they'll do. Their fevor for death and killing will never end...

The past few days have been a whirlwind of emotion, none of it good. Tate's brutal murder is always in my mind, always lurking. I can barely breathe, sometimes, when I think on it. He was my everything. He was what made life worth living, and with him gone, what am I?

I can't cry anymore. It feels like I'm betraying Tate, not crying. But the tears don't come. Not anymore. Now there's just this bone-aching sadness that never leaves. A deep, penetrating sadness that burrows into me. Nothing seems worth the effort anymore...except...

Blair.

He's still alive. Trapped in District 2 with my monster of a father. Will he grow up without ever knowing either of his parents? Will he even know we existed, or will my father ensure that he never finds out?

There's only one way I can get him back. Win the Games. Come home as Victor. Surely then I will be able to take back Blair, get vengeance for Tate, and live my life...right? It feels like that should be the right response, but I don't know. It's hard to feel anything right now.

But I won't give up. I will win, and then, maybe just maybe, everything will turn out alright.

Carey Brand (District 12)
It's early in the morning when Ash and I are taken from our rooms and led to the elevators. Ash is groggy and out of sorts, several times he begins to slump over as we ride the elevator down, eyes flickering shut as he fights off the approach of sleep.

I'm not tired. I'm never tired, not anymore. Maybe that's the wrong way to put it. It's not that I'm not tired, it's just that I'm always tired. Always feeling the same. Always dreading sleep and the nightmares it'll bring.

Blood. Fire. Bullets. Death.

Houses burning. People getting shot in the streets. Black angels of death drifting down from the sky. Colton's charred face as the fire burns his skin off. The scent of his flesh as it burnt.

Explosions. Death. Death everywhere.

I find myself breathing hard, hands clenched into fists at my side. I see it everytime. Every single time I try to sleep. I see my brothers death, I see my homes destruction, I see those Blackcloaks come raining in from the sky. I can't stop what I see when I sleep, so I just stopped sleeping. That way I don't have to see.

"Y'all don't look so good," Ash says when he notices my reaction. I calm a little at the sight of him. He's from home. He experienced the same thing I did. But his family survived. They managed to get on the train. Mine didn't. Mine were lost in the blood and fire and--

"You're going to give yourself a heart attack."

Ash's harsh voice snaps me out of my thoughts. I stare at him long and hard, wondering what it'd feel like to be in his position. He actually has something to go back to if he wins. Would it feel better? Or worse? After all, his precious siblings will end up dead no matter how hard he tries to keep them alive. Everyone dies eventually.

"You're with the Careers," I speak quietly, wishing this elevator moved quicker. How deep are we going? "What do you care?"

He snorts loudly, leaning back against the wall. "Just tryin' to stay alive. No point in chasin' death."

I wanted to ally with him. He was from home. He knew pain, real pain, and he was someone I could rely on. But he chose the Careers. "You think I'm chasing death?"

"You sure look like it."

I shake my head. That's the only response I'm capable of giving. I don't want to die. I won't die. I won't be able to live, but I won't die.

Can't live. Won't die. Can't live. Won't die.

Luigi Iris (District 13)
When the elevator finally stops, Ophelia and I emerge into a long, dark hallway. "Guess we keep walking," I say wryly. She doesn't even crack a smile. Makes sense. Not everyone has the heart to think positive when faced with such a situation.

We go in silence as we follow the corridor to a large room. A hovercraft sits in the center, surrounded by Peacekeepers and facility staff dressed in white. Perhaps Ophelia's unresponsive attitude is because of the training scores revealed last night. She only managed to receive a 5, not a very good score at all. I myself scored an 8. It's a good score, but still three points off the highest score, an 11 belonging to Silve.

I see the boy now as the other tributes emerge from adjacent tunnels, being funneled towards the hovercraft. He's not the leader of the Careers--that would be the boy from 4, Pompeii--but he might be their biggest threat. I'll need to keep an eye on him.

As we're led into the hovercraft, people come up to insert our trackers. I expect them to inject it into our arms, but to my surprise they instead stick the needle into the back of our necks.

"Ouch!" Bastien from 14 flinches away as they put his in. "What the hell, man?"

"Let's see them remove those," One of the Peacekeepers chuckles from behind me. Who? What is he talking about? I don't have the time or position to ask, unfortunately. I'm seated between Jayda and Lilah as the hovercraft doors slide shut and begins to take off. Almost immediately the windows go black.

"Where do you think we're going?" I ask my allies quietly. Pretty much everyone else is deathly silent. Only a few Careers speak loudly, but even most of them look a little uneasy.

"...hmm?" Jayda pulls her gaze away from a blank wall to glance at me. "Did you say something?"

Lilah mutters something to herself. At least I think it was herself. I can't understand what she says, at any rate. I repeat my question but Jayda only shrugs. Lilah doesn't even respond. I'm actually completely confused as to how she got a 9 in training. She certainly didn't seem to have that great of skills, but I suppose she must have been hiding them.

I lose track of time after that, but it seems to be a relatively short amount of it before our hovercraft is landing and we're led out into a circular room. Dozens of doors each branch off into different directions. I wish my allies a quiet goodbye as Peacekeepers lead me to my room.

Inside, my stylist Sepulveda is waiting. Wordless, she hands me a package which must contain my arena outfit. Without expecting much, I open it up. There's a simple bright yellow T-shirt and matching jacket--yellow being the color for District 13--plus a pair of simple black pants with yellow stripes. Then there's a pair of running shoes and a belt, which I attach around my waist.

After that, there's nothing to do but wait. I can't help but think of my brother Mario. He's in District 1, training to be a Peacekeeper. What must he think of me now? Is he okay? There is a war going on, after all, and he is a soldier...

"Thirty seconds until launch," A voice booms over the speakers. My hands fly to my neck where the half of my locket is. A picture of my mother is inside. Mario has the other half. Sepulveda steps away from me and I step over into the tube, which immediately falls around me. With a deep breath, I press my hands against the glass. Sepulveda nods, and I turn around to face the concrete wall. This is it.

"Twenty seconds until launch." My heart pounds against my ribcage and a surge of unfed adrenaline is loud in my ears.

"Ten seconds until launch." The tube slowly begins to rise and I take a deep breath, closing my eyes and counting to ten. When I open them again, I find myself atop a wooden deck. The sun is hidden behind gray clouds as I survey the cornucopia. All around me are the other thirty-one tributes. The wooden walkway seems to be suspended above the ground, through a crack between the boards I see murky water. A swamp? I don't know. No time to think.

It's time for the Games to begin.

Armado Roynclaw (District 6)
The sun beats against my head. The cornucopia shines in the light. We stand in a wide circle on a large, circular wooden platform, walkways run down from the cornucopia like spokes on a wheel hub. Each one seems to lead to a different biome.

An eerie silence hangs over the arena. I've lived in District 6 for my entire life. I've grown accustomed to noise. To the never-ending hum of machinery, the rattling of trains, and the take offs of Hovercrafts. Noise has always been with me. But now, now there is nothing. The only sound in this immaculate, impeccable platform is the breathing of my commpetitors and the beating of my own heart.

It reminds me vaguely of first few minutes in District 6 after the bombs dropped. But back then there wasn't this ring of death, with thirty-two teenagers waiting to sprint off their plates and kill one another.

I turn my shoulders, gaze flickering to the cornucopia. Clear crystal, angular, and sharp, there are backpacks and small weapons strewn across the surrounding wooden boards.

But inside the cornucopia--Inside the cornucopia I can see a plethora of steel weapons. Things I have names for, like swords and spears. And things I have no name for. Things I've only ever seen at the training center. Yet I'm sure they'll rip and tear flesh all the same.

There are also crates upon crates of food piled inside the crystal cornucopia. Supplies that will keep us alive throughout the Games. If we could risk fighting for them.

I flicker my gaze to my trusted ally, Lavender. She's located on the opposite end of the circle, shoulders tense and feet shifting as she gazes out at the cornucopia, to the sky, and then to me. Some unknown emotion passes through her eyes.

I know our strengths, our weaknesses. I am the brawn, the muscle that fights for us. She's the brains, the mind of the alliance. She can find food and supplies for us in any environment. At least, that's what I hope she can do.

Lavender nods at me, and I slowly return it. For some reason, I don't think either of us knows what that means.

Nicholas Mecha (District 5)
A light flickers on above the cornucopia, coalescing into a holographic image of the number "60".

Beside me, one of the younger tributes abandons her laboured breathing for a horrified, high-pitched wail. It echoes around the deathly silent platform, bouncing back to fill our ears with dread. I know that it's not mandatory for everyone to kill at the bloodbath, but I also know that fact won't stop the killing. We're fighting for supplies that will help us survive the next days, and that means 'til death do we stop.

The holographic light coalesces into a "59". This time accompanied by a low thrum of noise, almost drowning out the girl who still wails. I think she's from District 12. Or 8. Maybe 11. Somewhere weak, I think, because I committed the names and faces of everyone important to memory. I don't remember this girl.

The number shifts to "58", and the noise thrums again, world buzzing beneath my feet.

Panic nips at my side, my breathing becoming quicker and shallower. I need a strategy. My alliance and I didn't think of one before the Games. And I've seen the game played often enough to know that those without a strategy die first. Judging by the look on Valencia's face, I will be lucky not to get killed within seconds.

The light thrums once more and the light coalesces as my mind spins, taking in every available strategy.

I could run away as fast as I can, hoping that my allies will find me. One of those straight walkways would suffice. But the walkway is long and will make me a clear target for anyone else.

And given how narrow they are, and the lack of other options, I just know that these walkways will become a bottleneck full of bloodshed and death.

I'll need supplies, though. I don't think I can just get up and run without any. Especially water. Satan won't even need to intervene if I don't get any water. I'll be dead in days.

My allies seem to be spread out all over the platform. Trying to meet with them could prove problematic. Not good. Nothing seems good right now. Nothing at all.

The world thrums in tune with my rapid heartbeat. The countdown is at "30". Half my time is gone. Soon these Games will begin. And death will be upon us all.

Pompeii Vulcan (District 4)
Thirty seconds.

That's how long we have until these Games begin. Before the battle for honor and valor commences. I stretch out my arms, staring at the cornucopia and casting my gaze around for the quickest path to the mouth of it.

That'll be my strategy. Have the Careers defend the cornucopia and the precious items it holds. But first I have something to prove.

Takeko stands on the platform to my right. She remains completely still, yet I see her eyes darting around, taking in her surroundings at lightning speed. She's a threat. One I do not intend to deal with just yet, especially not on my own.

To my left is Ophelia. The small, dark-haired girl has shifted herself around so that she faces away from the cornucopia, staring down the walkway that seems to lead to some sort of rocky landscape. She intends to run away as quickly as possible, it seems. Or maybe grab that one backpack that, for some reason, is positioned behind our platforms.

As the countdown reaches the last few seconds I come to a decision. Killing someone as weak as Ophelia isn't the most honorable thing, but it is a necessary one.

5...

I position myself so that I may confront Ophelia immediately.

4...

I regulate my breathing.

3...

I tense my muscles.

2...

I grit my teeth.

1...

Gong!

I lunge off my platform. To my right, Takeko goes sprinting towards the cornucopia. I, however, head straight for Ophelia. The girl is grabbing at the aforementioned backpack when I crash into her. The impact sends her flying to the ground, arms splaying out behind her as I punch her in the skull.

Her face goes blank as I land two more punches, one to each side of the head. With my metal fists, I am more deadly then anyone else. There's a dull cracking sound, then she goes stiff, eyes staring sightlessly into the sky. I rise slowly, not even sweating from the effort. The first kill of the Games belongs to me.

"Careers! Rally to the cornucopia!" I turn and sprint towards the horn, calling out to my allies. "Defend the supplies! Don't let anyone get away with it!"

Jonah Zarate (District 9)
I stumble off my platform as the gong sounds. On either side of me is a Career, Mario and Ash. Both of them go sprinting full speed towards the mouth where, to my shock, I see Corin already rifling through the racks of swords.

How is she so fast? As I'm watching, another tribute arrives behind her, Silve. Corin turns tail and runs as Silve rips a sword off the rack, spinning around in an arc and slashing it across the chest of a boy sneaking up behind him.

Twan falls to the ground, his body thumping against the wooden deck.

Dead. Already a tribute is dead. I feel sick as I'm frozen in place, watching all the chaos unfold. Ash throws himself at Bastien, tackling the boy into a pile of crates as they wrestle for position. Silve, already the killer of Twan, goes swinging at Luigi, who has just claimed a sword for himself. Though Silve is obviously the better swordsman, Luigi is holding his own.

Panic begins to rise in me as I watch my ally fight. I should do something to help him, but fear has me rooted to the spot. I knew this was coming, but nothing can compare to actually witnessing the frenetic carnage for yourself.

"Jonah!"

I spin around at the sound of my name. Jayda and Teddy are running towards me from the backside of the cornucopia. Teddy is clutching a backpack close to his chest and Jayda has her hands on what appears to be an axe.

"We need to go!" Jayda sounds out of breath, but doesn't appear wounded in any way.

"We can't! Not without Lilah and Luigi!" I gesture hopelessly at our leader, still embroiled in a sword fight with Silve. I would go help him, but I am certain I'd only get in his way.

"We'll die if we stay here," Jayda says matter-of-factly, brushing past me and hurrying down the walkway. Teddy doggedly follows after her. I curse loudly.

"Sorry, Luigi, but you're going to have to hold out on your own for now..." I turn and sprint after the two District 3 tributes, regret weighing down my every step and the feeling of cowardice seeping through me.

Takeko Zhou (District 10)
My legs take me straight across the wooden ground, sprinting right for the cornucopia and the racks of weapons that are positioned right next to the horn. Along the way I scoop up a knife as I run, but my eyes never leave the katana that lies atop a silvery case.

A few Careers have already arrived, but they are focused on the mouth of the cornucopia, not the backside of it, which is were I come to a stop.

Immediately I stash my knife into my belt, grabbing the katana and giving it an experimental swing. It feels perfect. Weighed just right, with the proper amount of balance. I should do just fine with this as my weapon.

"Oh ho, so it's the girl who received a ten!" A loud, abrasive voice sounds through the air as Valencia rounds the cornucopia, her blonde braids swinging in the air. She grins when I turn to point my katana at her. "You wanna fight? Good. I'll show the Gamemakers that they were wrong to score you higher than me!"

This idiot of a girl is focused on the wrong things. Who cares what the Gamemakers think? They could have given me a three and I wouldn't have cared.

"What's wrong?" Valencia asks when she realizes I'm not going to say anything. "Aww. Are you afraid of me? You should be, because I'm about to kill you!"

Why the hell is she giving a monologue? No matter. I will kill her all the same. The only weapon she has is a javelin, something that will not help her in short ranged combat. The girl let's out an indignant huff.

"What's with your silence? Don't you know who you're fighting?"

"I don't give a damn who you are."

"Well, you should! Because I'm Valencia-freaking-Sonar!"

The girl raises her javelin for the strike. I react immediately. Eight Leaves One Blade second form. I rush forward, my blade slicing across horizontally. Valencia grunts, then gasps as a gash opens up across her stomach, her intestines spilling out as she drops to her knees.

"Next time, more fighting, less talking." I place my foot against her shoulder and kick her over. She falls onto her back, where she stares into the sky as her hands attempt to keep her insides within her.

I rush past her, heading for the spoke that I had picked out during our sixty seconds of waiting. As I reach it, someone jumps up from where they were crouching beside the railing.

My blade is only inches away from her neck when I recognize Carey.

"I got some stuff," She says blandly, completely unfazed by the fact I almost killed her. "Ready to go?"

I nod, removing my blade from her neck. What a peculiar person. At least she found me. I would have left without her, had she not done so. An ally is good, but not if it impedes my road to victory. "Let's go."

Cecil Thayer (District 8)
My heart thuds in my chest as, all around me, the air fills with the sound of screams and the smell of blood.

I have yet to take a step off my platform. I don't know what the arena looks like, I don't know where Corin is, and I don't know if she's even still alive. My hearing may be better than most people's, but that doesn't help me when everyone is screaming and shouting at once.

Sudden footsteps pounding against a wooden floor snaps me back into focus. In an instant my hands are up in a defensive posture, ready to deflect a strike and return a hard blow to the throat.

"Cecil! It's me!"

Relief washes over me as I recognize Corin's voice over the din of fighting. "Oh, good. I was waiting for you." Guilt prickles the back of my neck. I have yet to tell Corin that I'm blind, so she probably doesn't understand why the hell I didn't get off my platform like everyone else.

She doesn't question me, however. "Come over here and help me with this bag!"

Following her voice, I step off the platform--careful not to trip--and join her as she crouches beside what feels like a large duffel bag. The floor is definitely wooden. If there were more echoes, I'd think that we were inside. Despite the fact that we are outside, there appears to be no wind whatsoever.

"Why do you want this bag?" I ask.

"It's heavy," Corin answers after a grunt. I place my hands beside hers and help lift the bag. It is, indeed, very heavy. I wonder what's inside?

Corin assists me as we swing the bags strap over my shoulder, then she begins to head off in a new direction--probably towards an exit from the cornucopia. But she doesn't get far. After only a few footfalls, I hear the wood beneath me trembling.

"Corin! Behind you!"

There's a swishing of fabric as Corin turns, then the grating sound of steel striking against steel. Corin must have picked up a weapon during her trip over here--and has just used it to intercept someone else's weapon.

"Cecil! Get that bag out of here!"

Despite her instructions, I hesitate. The sound of steel against steel picks up again, and is much too close for comfort. But I can't run. I can't leave Corin to fight by herself! Also, I have absolutely no idea which way I'm supposed to run.

I back away from the noise, trying to pinpoint something that may help Corin. But it's impossible. There's too many feet pounding against the floor, the clanging of steel too loud, so that even my advanced hearing leaves me discombobulated. I couldn't help Corin even if I tried!

The normal sound of steel against steel changes to something much more sinister. The sound of ripping flesh, followed by a scream of pain.

A hand grips me by the shoulder, then someone is speaking into my ear. "What the hell are you waiting for? Let's go!"

I chase after her fleeing footsteps, weighed down by the heavy bag. "Who was that?" I ask as we run. Then, remembering that I haven't told her I'm blind, I add, "I couldn't place her District."

"It was Harley and Aphrodite," Corin answers flatly. "They thought they could get us if they grouped up." She laughs mirthlessly. "Too bad my sword only cut Harley's leg. Woulda been nice to kill one."

I'm silently stunned. Corin not only defeated two tributes at once, but two careers? What kind of badass did I align myself with? And, on a more dire note, what will she do when she learns what I've been hiding from her?

Mercury Kwildor (District 1)
I reach the cornucopia just as Silve enages Luigi in a sword fight. I sprint for one of the two spear racks inside the cornucopia then, pausing to collect my breath, turn and survey the bloodbath.

Harley and Aphrodite are together as they descend upon a pair of tributes trying to pick up a bag near the platforms. Ash has just arrived, driving his shoulder into the chest of a tall boy and taking them both into a pile of crates. Pompeii is on the outskirts, jogging over with a pair of bloody hands. So. He has already made a kill.

"Careers! Rally to the cornucopia!" He shouts as he begins to sprint over. "Defend the supplies! Don't let anyone get away with it!"

Too late. As he says this, I watch the girl from District 8 scamper away with a backpack and set of knives. She immediately sets off down one of the walkways and disappears from sight.

"Help your allies!" Pompeii has finally reached the mouth of the cornucopia. "No one should be fighting alone!"

He takes up a position near the mouth, close to where Silve and Luigi duel. I take a spear off the rack, watching as Ash and the District 14 boy brawl. I could probably kill the tall boy, but knowing Ash, he wouldn't take kindly to my interference. Instead, I begin to pick up bags and miscellaneous objects, moving them closer to the cornucopia. No one will get these while I guard them.

Also...it gives me something to do whilst battling against the desire to show up Copper. I can't afford to play into his hands. But I desperately want to show my true strength...

Something catches my eye. Mario is on the outskirts, alone, as she makes her way towards a trident. It's buried tips-first in the wooden boards of the deck, it's silvery handle glinting in the weak sunlight.

I know how much Mario wants a trident. I should help her get it.

Just as I come to this decision, so does someone else. Surorian is approaching the trident, his unnaturally violet eyes gleaming with a predatory hunger. Mario doesn't see him as she begins to reach for the trident...

"Mario! Look out!" I let out a warning, running as hard as I can. Mario looks up just in time to receive a kick in the face. The tiny girl goes skidding across the deck, hurt, but very much alive.

Surorian turns to me, a bored look on his face. "You ruined my kill."

"I protected a fellow Career," I reply, adopting the defensive stance I've learnt from my time in the academy. My spears point is facing up, towards Suorians's throat. He has a sword, so he'll need to try and break my defense to do any damage.

"Career honor, right?" The tall boy let's out a wicked laugh. "Well, who am I to fault you? If you'd rather die in place of that little girl, then so be it!"

He strikes like a snake. His sword smashes into the side of my spear, the force of the blow so strong that the weapon vibrates in my hands. I pull the spear closer, trying to reposition, when I notice that Surorian has moved inside my defense.

His face contorts into a snarl. "This is child's play!"

His dagger, which I had failed to notice, glints in the light as he plunges it into my throat.

Mario Firth (District 4)
I sit on my hands and knees, shaking my head as I try to clear it of the black lines that pulsate across my vision. That kick...

I'm lucky to still be conscious, after a blow like that. And what's worse is that it was avoidable. If I hadn't been so caught up in trying to claim that trident, I'd have seen Surorian coming. I could have--

Surorian!

All of a sudden I snap back into my senses. I pull myself up, ignoring the pain that throbs in my skull. The screams and shouts of the bloodbath have hardly died down, but I think that several tributes have certainly fled by now.

I cast my gaze around, searching for Surorian.

And find him as he slams a dagger into Mercury's throat.

"No!" The shout is involuntary as the boy who, for a short time, was a friend, drops to his knees, gagging on the thick blood that streams out of the wound. Surorian grins as he turns and flees, his feet pounding against the wooden floor in rhythm with the blood squirting from Mercury.

Dammit! I knew that Mercury had to die, but to have it happen like this, because he was trying to save me, that hurts.

I stumble over to his body, ignoring the battles raging on around me. The ground beside him is stained as red as his hair. "I'm sorry," I say to his body, bending down to collect a knife that lay beside him. "But you showed your true strength today."

I turn back to the cornucopia. Silve's sword battle has ended, but without a victor. Silve stands stoically in the middle of the deck as he watches Luigi flee down a spoke. Pompeii is beside him, barking out orders. And--

"We need water, Topher. Look for water!"

The sound of voices has me turn in time to see two tributes, both male, as they rummage through the pile of supplies that Mercury had gathered. One of them, a tall boy with cerulean hair, I recognize as Nicholas from District 5.

My hands clench as I watch him pocket a knife. Those supplies belong to us. They're ours. I'm not about to let a pair of hare-brained Fools steal from me!

I stalk over and wind up my knife to throw. I've made harder throws then this in my sleep before. This will be easy.

The boy whom I picked as a target, the one Nicholas called Topher, notices me just as I begin to unwind. "Great golly gumdrops!"

He ducks in the nick of time. My knife goes whizzing through the air where, just seconds ago, his head was positioned. Now, instead of striking him dead, it sails harmlessly over him.

And hits Nicholas right in the face.

Topher's eyes bulge in horror as he notices his friend begin to fall, dead before he even hits the ground. Then, before I can attack him too, he turns and flees perpendicularly across the platform.

I watch him run. He didn't take anything with him, so I don't care. Our supplies were protected.

Alpha Quells (District 11)
I roam across the outskirts of the bloodbath, my eyes flickering across the chaos in search of my allies, and, much more importantly, Omega. There! I spot her as she follows after Lavender, her tiny arms wrapped around herself defensively. Lavender is moving from item to item, occasionally picking something up.

I consider running straight to my sister and fleeing the bloodbath together, but quickly discard the thought. If we are to win, we'll need the supplies. Besides, Armado is with them. He stands just ahead of the pair, eyes glued to the cornucopia as he holds a spear tightly in his hands.

Omega will be fine. I just need to concentrate on getting supplies.

Changing my route, I charge towards the cornucopia. Along the way I spot Ash shakily rising from a pile of crates. His pallid face is covered in bruises, and his lip is cut and bleeding profusely. He was in a fight, obviously. I wonder if he won. If he did, I'd hate to see the other guy.

As I pass him, I veer off course and slam a shoulder into him. The blond boy hits the ground hard, his head bouncing off a crate as he does. I snatch up a nearby axe and continue on.

The mouth of the cornucopia. That's where all the best items are, so that's where I'll be.

Several tributes linger around the mouth, all Careers. Silve is standing a little ways away, staring at the giant boy from District 10 as he picks at small items on the outskirts. Mario is helping Harley organize a pile of items, and I think I see Zamara sitting inside the cornucopia, emptying bags into one large backpack. Then there's Pompeii. He's the closest to the mouth, and he's watching me with narrowed eyes as I sprint right towards him.

With a scream of fury, I swing my axe for his head.

He nimbly dodges to the side and my strike misses. I stumble forward, my momentum leaving me unbalanced, as Pompeii aims a thrust for my back.

I feel the steel whistle through the air as the blade narrowly misses skewering my spine.

I turn and throw myself into another attack, my mind blank to any and all strategy. I'm so pumped full with adrenaline that the only thing I can focus on is attack, attack, attack.

Pompeii tries to block my axe with his sword, but my two-handed swing is too much for even his grip. The sword goes flying across the clearing as he curses loudly. "You're good," He says, not sounding too worried. A smug smile flickers on his lips. "This'll be fun. I love a good challenge."

"Shut up!"

I swing my axe in a downward strike, aiming for the soft flesh between shoulder and neck. Pompeii raises a hand to the steel blade, a lazy smile on his face.

He catches the sharpened edge with his bare hand.

"You see," He says, ripping the axe out of my hands as I'm frozen with shock. "Having metal hands can actually be very useful."

His left hand lands a jab into my stomach and I bend over, grunting with pain. Pompeii backhands me and I fall to the ground, vision flashing red and black. Something flares with pain in the back of my mouth, and I taste the coppery tinge of blood.

Pompeii grips me by the collar and hauls me to my feet, slamming me against the cornucopia. "You were a worthy opponent," He says without even the hint of sarcasm. "But I'll be glad when you're dead. You were just too much of a threat."

He raises a fist, the metal gleaming eerily in the faint light. Then he he slams it towards my skull.

I throw myself forward, feeling the collar of my jacket rip as its torn in Pompeii's grip. A second later, Pompeii's hand slams into the side of the cornucopia. There's a horrific crunching sound as his hand smashes through it, metal grating against metal. Pompeii growls in anger as he tries to pull his hand free to no avail. He's stuck.

This time it's my turn to smile.

I pick up my fallen axe, conscious of his gaze on me. "Hope you have a third hand lying around." With a grunt, I lift my axe into the air.

And bring it down onto Pompeii's forearm.

He screams as the axe cleaves through flesh and bone, severing his arm at the elbow. Blood spurts from the gaping hole as he pulls away from me, screaming wildly. Some of the crimson spray hits my face as I lean down and pick up a backpack, slinging it over my shoulder.

Already others have taken notice of Pompeii's screaming. Silve is watching with wide eyes, and Aphrodite is rushing over, a bag marked with a medicinal cross close in hand. Time to go.

I run full throttle towards the spot I last saw my allies. They're still there, gaping at me with stunned expressions as I stop to collect my breath.

"You're covered in blood..." Lavender says.

"It's fine. None of its mine." I clip my axe onto my belt, then scoop Omega into my arms. She clings to me meekly, a few tears running down her face. "We have to go. Now."

I lead the way down the platform, running as fast as I can with Omega in my arms. Lavender and Armado follow just behind me, I can hear their feet stomping against the wooden boards.

We survived the bloodbath. It might not be much, but it's the first phase of my plan completed. Now I just need to think of what the other phases are.

Emma Brynne (District 9)
Elia and I slink around on the edge of the bloodbath, trying our best not to draw any unwanted attention. Despite my best efforts, I have yet to see any of our other allies. I've kept a particular eye out for Bastien, yet so far I've seen nothing.

"Where are they?" I ask Elia as she kneels beside a crate, flipping the lid off and rummaging through it.

"Don't know." Her concentration is focused soley on her supply gathering. Not that I can blame her. A decent amount of time has passed since the Games initially began, and we've gone almost completely unnoticed as we scavenge on the backside of the cornucopia. The only encounter we've had was when the District 10 girl ran past us.

I try not to look at the bloodied body she left in her wake.

My palms begin to sweat as I keep a lookout for danger. The tube of medicine is slick in my hands. It's the only thing I've grabbed, though I know that is a mistake. I should've grabbed more, but I've been focused on searching for my allies.

"Hold this." Elia passes me a small satchel, which I accept without question. She continues to search through the crate as I look up and nearly get a heart attack. Topher is standing right in front of us.

"So quickly! Couldn't help!" He's speaking so fast that I can hardly understand him. But the horrified look on his face is unmistakable. Something has happened. Something very bad.

Elia halts her search through the crate. "What happened?" She demands, looking back and forth between Topher and the cornucopia. No one is in sight, but I can still hear someone screaming in pain.

"Nicholas!" Tears are in Topher's eyes as he slumps to his knees. "I merely ducked my cranium, then he..." He trails off, but he doesn't need to say anymore. The implication is clear.

Nicholas is dead.

Cold sorrow fills my veins. I hardly knew the boy, but for him to be dead...Why does everyone I care for die? It's not fair!

"Emma! Elia!"

We all turn as Bastien comes limping around the cornucopia, one hand held gingerly to his chest. His handsome face is covered in purple bruises. "Oh, Bastien! What happened?"

I rush forward to help him at the same time Elia let's out a gleeful shout. "An axe!" She runs towards the cornucopia, where an axe is lying beside the corner. She scoops it up and begins to turn back to us, but suddenly freezes.

A peculiar expression crosses her face. Then she falls face forward into the ground, axe slipping from her grip. She doesn't get up.

I scream.

Nylah tucks her bloody knife into her belt, scooping up Elia's fallen axe and sprinting away, past us and down the spoke. Without thinking I move to go after her, but arms grab me from behind. "It's not worth it," Bastien whispers in my ear. He sounds shaken. "She'd just kill you too."

I open my mouth to respond, but all that comes out is a strangled sob. Elia. Dead. Why does everyone die because of me? Nadine, Cadence, and now Elia. Why can't I help anyone? Why does my very presence radiate death and misery?

Bastien is dragging me along towards the edge of the platform that leads into what looks like some kind of rocky area. Nylah ran a different way. We're dead. That's all I can think of as we move along, Topher stumbling after us. All of us will be dead.

Everyone close to me dies. That's just the way it is.

Avan Falco (District 10)
I hear the screaming of Pompeii as I pick up backpacks on the outskirts of the cornucopia, slinging each one over my shoulder. The Careers are all gathered around him in a big gtoup, not far from the cornucopia. I can't see anyone else.

Has the bloodbath ended? Am I the only non-Career who has yet to flee? That would be surprising, but it's not like I was paying any attention to what the other tributes were doing. Since the gong rang, the only thing I've concentrated on was claiming as much items as possible.

Now's the time to go. When everyone else is occupied, they'll never spot me slinking away.

As it turns out, I'm not the only one who thinks this.

Zamara darts out from the mouth of the cornucopia, a backpack that is absolutely bulging with items carried on her back. She runs halfway to the nearest spoke, then stops, turning to face the Careers, who're still absorbed in Pompeii's wounds.

She takes aim with a golden bow, knocking an arrow to the string. Is she going to shoot the Careers? No. For some reason, she lets the bow go slack, muttering to herself as she turns to flee.

And runs smack dab into me.

She bounces off my chest, then, recovering quickly, once again puts an arrow to her bow. The dark-skinned girl stares daggers at me. "Do you support the Capitol?"

In response, I punch her in the face.

She falls with a yelp, her nose streaming with blood as it breaks under my fist. Immediately she goes scrabbling for her dropped bow, not even momentarily halted by the pain. It's become increasingly obvious that I have to kill her. I don't want to, but I don't have any particular qualms about not doing it, either.

I bend down to snap her neck when she grabs an arrow from her quiver and slashes it across my hands.

Pain swells in me as a large, bloody gash opens up along my left palm. Gritting my teeth in an effort to hold in a scream of pain, I suddenly no longer have any doubts about it. This girl will die.

"I gave you a chance!" Bloody spittle flies from her mouth as she speaks, slowly climbing back onto her feet. She sways, a little unsteady. "But you have shown your true colors. No more--"

Once again I punch her in the face, but this time I grab her by the shoulders before she falls. Squirming in my grasp, she attempts to stab me with the arrow, but I swat it out of her hands as I haul her towards the platforms edge.

She howls and kicks, actually hitting me in the shin. Just as I'm about to lose my grip, I heave her over the side of the railing.

She screams as she twists through the air, flying towards the ground, then suddenly splashes down into the depths of the murky brown water. I hold my left hand close, nursing the wound as I wait for her to resurface. She doesn't.

"Good riddance," I grimace as I pick up her bow, ripping the string off and tossing it back towards the cornucopia. The Careers haven't noticed me yet. Time to leave while I still can.

I collect a sickle from the edge of the bloodbath before I take off sprinting down one of the four spokes. The bloodbath has finally come to an end, but that means the Games are just beginning.

Silve Wisp (District 2)
The bloodbath is over. There's no official proclamation or anything like that, but it's readily apparent that the fighting and killing is over--for now.

Pompeii is stretched out along the side of the cornucopia, moaning shamelessly as Aphrodite tends to his wounds. His arm, the one that was chopped off unceremoniously by Alpha, is embedded in the cornucopia wall. The fleshy part dangles in the air, still attached to the metal fist.

It's ironic that the thing Pompeii seemed so proud of--the fact that his fists could punch through metal--ended up being his undoing.

"Think he'll live?" I ask Mario as I join her on the outskirts of the platform. She's been picking through the leftover items, sorting them into a small pile for later use.

"Who?" The small girl blinks her wide blue eyes. "Pompeii? Yeah, I think he will. Aphrodite already has a tourniquet on him." We both glance back to watch as the other girl continues her work on our leader. It seems that he'll live. Good. We need the numbers.

I watch as Ash rounds the bend of the cornucopia, dragging another body behind him. He volunteered for the job of collecting and counting the bodies. I don't know why, but I'm glad he did. Corpses, even fresh ones, stink.

"How many?" I ask him as he deposits the body, that of the District 7 girl, next to the others.

He doesn't even look up as he responds. "Six. None of them Anti's."

I swear under my breath. I knew they'd be a threat. Especially now that we've lost two of our own. Valencia and Mercury both fell at the bloodbath, slain by superior warriors. Valencia was a strong ally--I'll miss her. Not Mercury, though. That damn fool was always complaining about people being prejudiced against him or something. It got annoying fast.

As Ash goes off to search for more bodies, I approach our weapon stash. I feel partially responsible for our low kill count. I got Twan early on, but then I got sidetracked dueling Luigi. He's the Anti's leader, and probably our biggest threat. I thought that if I could take him out, we'd be in a good position.

Unfortunately, the boy managed to weasel his way out of the battle. He fled when I got distracted by Mario's angered scream.

At the cornucopia, I tuck a few knives into my belt, then, for good measure, stick a dagger into my boot too. You can never have too many weapons. I'm soon joined by Aphrodite. Her face is worn with exhaustion and her hair is a disheveled mess. She slumps down onto a crate, breathing in deeply.

"Will Pompeii live?" I ask quietly.

She nods slowly. "I think so. I'm not a medical expert or anything, but he seems fine. He's sleeping right now, hopped up on painkillers."

I nod, looking at my district partner, Harley, as she hobbles over. Her lower left calf is scarred and bloody, a wound received from the blade of the district 5 girl's sword. "You okay?" I ask her.

"Fine. I'm fine." Sitting down next to Aphrodite, she sounds just as exhausted as the refined Capitolite. The two girls sit quietly as I try and contemplate our next move. With Pompeii wounded, we won't be hunting at all today. That's fine, I suppose. We already have killed more than enough tributes for now. A few hours of rest would do us well.

I lean my head back and close my eyes. The Games have just begun, after all. There'll be plenty of time for killing later.

Cecil Thayer (District 8)
I hurry through the woods, following the heavy footfalls of Corin as she leads to the way through what I believe to be a forest. Though I cannot see anything, I can hear the calls of birds, the chattering of squirrels, and the crunching of leaves under my feet.

I also feel the branches that snag on my clothes and reach at my face.

"This place..." Corin comes to a halt, her breathing fast and shallow. "What the hell is it?"

That takes me by surprise. Is there something I'm not seeing? "Seems normal enough to me," I say casually. A cool breeze blows against my face as I say this, proving that there is some sort of wind in this arena after all.

"It does?" Corin's voice is filled with incredulity as I feel her turn to face me. "You have many green skies in District 8? Or maybe your grass is teal?"

"What!" I whip my head around, searching back and forth even though I know that I cannot see any of what she just described. The sky is...green? I haven't been blind my entire life, and I remember a time when I could see the sky. Imagining it as green...that just feels wrong.

"Cecil...how did you not notice this earlier?" Corin's voice is laced with suspicion. Suspicion is bad. I feel myself begin to sweat as I try and think up an explanation that will get me out of this. "Well? Cecil?"

"I..." What can I say? There's no lie I can give that would explain this. Feeling sick to my stomach, I realize I have no choice but to tell the truth. "Corin...I'm blind."

"What?" This time it's Corin's turn to be shocked. I can't see her face, but I can sense the disbelief coming off her in waves. "How...when? At the bloodbath? Who did it?"

"No. No, this didn't happen during the Games." My insides are twisting up like knots. Of course she thought it happened during the bloodbath. Why would she think any different? It's not like I gave her any reason to.

"Then when? Training?" Corin is in sheer bewilderment. I wouldn't be surprised if she called me out for pulling a prank on her soon.

"No. Not training." Why is it so hard to admit? Probably because I'll be admitting to lying to her for the entire time we knew each other.

"Then when?"

"Years ago. Back when I was a child."

Silence.

"You mean to tell me," Corin finally says, her voice flat and emotionless, "that you've been blind this entire time?"

"Yes."

Once again there's a long silence. I can hear the bushes rustling in the wind and the chirping of some nearby animals. I shift from foot to foot, intensely uncomfortable. How will she react?

"When were you planning on telling me?" She asks.

I'm confused by the question. "Just now. I just told you..."

"No. No, you didn't want to tell me, you were forced to. If I hadn't pointed out the oddly colored forest, would you have ever told me?" I can feel her gaze on me. Angry and suspicious. She feels like I betrayed her, and honestly, I cannot fault her for that.

"I...yes. I would have, eventually." To my own ears I sound so stupid. I'm fully expecting Corin to turn her sword on me, to cut me down. I would try and resist, of course. I won't accept death, even a deserved one. But I know that I'd have no hope of beating her.

"You ruined me," Her voice is so soft and quiet. "My whole strategy for these Games relied on having a competent ally. And now..." She trails off, but I find myself suddenly angry. Competent? I'm more than competent! Just because I'm blind doesn't mean I'm not useful!

"My skills weren't a lie," I tell her coldly. "I didn't fake that. Being blind doesn't make me a liability."

"It's called a disability for a reason," Corin says flatly. But the moment has passed. I no longer think that she will kill me in a fit of rage. In fact, I don't think that she'll even abandon me. "Come on," Her feet crunch against twigs as she begins to walk away. "The other tributes are probably running around like headless chickens, lashing out at anything they see. We shouldn't stand around."

We move through the supposedly oddly colored forest in complete silence. Neither of us speak. And what would we say? I don't know. Corin, for her part, keeps throwing glances back at me. I wonder if she thinks that I'll betray her or something. After a few minutes of walking, I can take it no more.

"Why do you keep staring at me?"

Corin comes to a halt, the surprise evident in her janky movements. "You can tell?"

"Of course. I'm blind, not deaf. I hear your clothes rustle as you turn around."

"Interesting. To be honest, I'm surprised you're not walking into trees." She says it so matter-of-factly that I'm a little taken back. Most people back home try tip-toeing around my blindness, congratulating me on accomplishing the simplest of things. Not Corin.

"I have had practice," I tell her wryly.

I'm not sure, but I think she smiles. "Maybe you're not useless after all. Still won't win a fight against a skilled combatant, but that can't be helped. I'll find some way to make use of you."

Perhaps that's not the most comforting of things to be told, but it sure beats what I thought would happen. Now I just need to survive the next dozen days, out-living all the other tributes in the process.

This will not be an easy task.

Luigi Iris (District 13)
My sprinting begins to slow as, all around me, the trees begin to grow closer together. What was once standard pine and oak trees have given way to something else, something more exotic. I don't know the exact word for them, but I have some flashbacks to my school studies--Bamboo, maybe?

I come to a halt, surrounded by these thin, hard trees. Sweat pours down my head and my side aches with runners cramps as my legs tremble with relief. I survived. Somehow, I managed to survive.

I went toe-to-toe with one of the toughest Careers in the Games and--while I didn't exactly "win" the fight--managed to best him in a sword fight. Escaping from his clutches is considered beating him, in my book. Especially since the cornucopia is, for all extents and purposes, Career territory.

I entered the heart of enemy territory and came out alive. I can scarcely believe it.

I wipe a hand across my forehead, the other wrapped tightly around the hilt of my sword. It's the only thing I managed to get from the cornucopia. That's a little unsettling, but it's the hardest thing to naturally come by in the arena. So just having it gives me some comfort.

Not enough, though. My allies--Jonah, Jayda, Teddy, and Lilah--are still out there. Or maybe they're not. I try hard not to think about it, but the thought crosses my mind despite my best efforts. What if they're dead? I didn't see any of them during my time at the cornucopia. For all I know...

No. I can't think like that. They're fine. They have to be. I should just focus on making sure I stay that way.

The bamboo trees around me reach far into the blue sky. I can just barely see the clouds behind them. The ground is relatively flat, but absolutely covered in ferns, shrubbery, and grass so tall that it reaches my thighs. Anything could be hiding in here.

Not a reassuring thought, perhaps, but a true one all the same. I pace forward, mind ill at ease as the grass around me sways in the wind. This place is so eerie, I can almost imagine I can hear footsteps--Wait a minute.

I freeze in place, my previously numb limbs now pulsing with adrenaline. I'm not imagining anything. Those footsteps are real. And it sounds like they're headed my way.

I throw myself to the ground, ducking under the ferns and pulling myself close to a thick clump of bamboo trees. Hoping that I'm adequately hidden from sight, I sit and wait for the tribute to approach.

Within seconds I hear their ragged breathing as they come to a stop not much more than five feet from my hiding place. Through a gap in the bamboo, I can see their boots and bottom of their pants. Which District had the color olive? I can't remember.

I hold my sword close, planning my method of attack. A thrust to the heart would be the quickest way to kill, but it'd leave me vulnerable if there are two tributes. With a thrust, a sword could easily get caught in someone's body, letting the second tribute attack me whilst weaponless. Better to slash. Yes, a slash to the throat is the way to go. Messy, but quick.

Plan formed, I leap out of my hiding place with a shout.

My enemy, a girl with long dark hair, squeals in surprise at my sudden appearance. She trips backwards and lands on her backside as I raise my sword for a quick slash.

Then I stop.

"Lilah?"

"Luigi?"

Lilah Jollenback, District 8. My ally. I turn my shoulders, sending the blade that was meant for Lilah's neck into a nearby bamboo shoot instead. The hard wood cracks, then breaks apart as the sword cleaves through it.

"What--Why are you here?" I stutter in disbelief, shame washing over me as I think about how close I came to killing an ally.

"Could ask you the same thing," Lilah grunts, picking up a pair of knives I didn't know she dropped. "Where are the others?"

"I thought they were with you."

The girl shakes her dark head. "No. I didn't see any of them at the bloodbath."

I don't know what to think of that. It could mean they all escaped. Or it could mean they all died. I decide to stay away from this line of thinking. "Do you think they're in this forest?" I ask Lilah.

She shrugs. "I don't know."

She's an odd girl. I first noticed this back in training, that Lilah's personality swung like a pendulum. Sometimes she might be happy and friendly, other times she's aloof and stoic. It's a toss-up on which Lilah will show up on any given day.

I watch the pale girl as she looks around at the trees, a curious expression across her face. Who is she, really? I don't know anything about her past--I don't really know anything about any of my allies. What kind of people are they? I'd risk everything to help any one of them. Would they do the same for me?

As I'm watching her, Lilah suddenly freezes. Her body going rigid as she stares at the ground with wide, unblinking eyes. "What's wrong?" I ask, stepping up beside her and trying to follow her gaze. She seems to be staring at a...flower?

It's a long-stemmed plant, or maybe a tree, with leaves splaying outwards near the top. Thick whorls of dark green leaves nestle among the stalks, and between these leaves are the flowers themselves. This particular type is a lightish purple color. A sweet scent wafts up from it.

"Are you staring at that?" I ask curiously. Lilah is still as a statue, then her lips slowly begin to move and words force themselves out.

"Oleander. Purple oleander."

"Uh, yeah?" Does she not like plants or something? She seems to be absolutely entranced by the oleander, staring at like an alarmed deer would gawk at a hunter.

"How did they know?"

"How did who know what?" I ask, utterly confused by her reaction to a simple plant. Still, I don't think we should be hanging around here. "We should get going. Our allies are still out there..."

Lilah seems to snap out of her stupor. She turns to me, eyes blinking rapidly. "You're right. We need to get away from here."

My body has mostly recovered from my fight with Silve and subsequent flight from the cornucopia. My exhaustion has faded, replaced with a burning desire to locate and regroup with the rest of my alliance. Until we're all together, we're not at full strength.

I lead the way deeper into the forest. Lilah follows silently, seemingly glad to be leaving that plant behind. I don't know what her problem is, but I can't really focus on it. I need to keep my mind on my situation, lest my inattention leads to an early death.

Bastien Colloway (District 14)
Flat, stone earth surrounds me on all sides. Everywhere I look, right or left, back or forward, I see exactly the same thing. Stone ground stretching as far as the eye can see, completely barren except for the occasional clump of rocks and pools of bubbling water. Overhead, the sun is barely visible through the clouds.

"Do you have a destination in mind?" The voice of Topher causes me to halt my walking, stopping halfway between a disjointed pile of rocks and one of the many ponds. I had forgotten that he was here. I had forgotten everything, except for the endless walking.

I shake my head, gingerly touching a massive bruise on my face, a result of my brawl with Ash. That boy may not be from a Career district, but he sure hits like he's from one. I turn to address Topher. "How could I? I don't know anything about this arena."

Topher deflates a little. The lanky boy settles himself down on the hard ground and stares at his feet. "I had not expected..." He trails off before finishing, but I think I understand.

Even though we all knew what was going to happen once the Games began, none of us were actually prepared for it. I hadn't known how to react when I learned that Nicholas was dead. Killed in a freak accident. He wasn't even anyone's target. Still, he's dead.

Just like Elia.

My stomach twists painfully as Emma trudges up beside us. Tears still slide own her face as she mourns the loss of her friend. I wasn't as close to Nicholas as Topher was, or attached to Elia like Emma, but I still feel the pain of their loss. Both of them dead just because some people in the Capitol thought killing was entertaining. How could Alex ever have supported those people?

Emma sits down next to Topher, arms wrapped around her knees. My stomach twists again. Emma manages to look beautiful even when she's a crying mess. "What now?" She asks, looking up at me with watery blue eyes. "How can we go on?"

"By remembering them. By trying to live in the way they wanted us to. By fighting to..." I can't finish my spiel. I'm no hero. No charismatic speech-giver who can rile people up with words alone. I'm a fool who can never take anything seriously. Isn't that what everyone always told me?

I wonder how some people continue to fight, when they've lost so much. I was lucky, for most of my life I never lost anything important to me. Then Alex and Holly disappeared and I--

I shake my head, a smile forming on my face. There's nothing funny. Nothing happy. But I force myself to smile all the same.

"How can you smile at a time like this?" Emma asks through her tears.

"Because they can't take it away from me. They want you to think that there's no joy, no happiness. But they're wrong. No one can take your smile. Your laughter. When you have nothing left, you still have those."

Emma--and even Topher--stare at me like I'm insane. I smile wider, hoping to get them to join me. I smile for the cameras, letting everyone know that this game hasn't broken me. ''Come on, Emma. Show them that it hasn't broken you either...''

Emma looks down at her feet.

I sigh, the smile slipping off my face. Before I can do anything else, Topher gets to his feet. "Do we have any food?" He asks in a low voice, sounding more despondent then I ever heard him.

I shake my head. Ash prevented me from taking anything from the cornucopia. Emma nods slowly, reaching behind her and pulling out a small tan satchel. "Elia gave me this...I don't know what's inside..."

"That's good," I say, trying to keep some optimism alive. "Let's see what we got."

The answer is nothing much. Inside the satchel we find only a small packet of crackers and some wrapped beef jerky. Emma also has a small container of funny smelling cream that Topher claims is used for burns. I lose some of my forced joy at the sight of meager supplies. No water. No weapons. Hardly any food.

How will we survive?

"Perchance those pools hold drinkable water?" Topher suddenly speaks, jerking a thumb at the closest pond.

I shrug. "Only one way to find out."

I stand up, scrabbling over to the nearest pool. Pebbles scattered by my feet shoot along the rocky ground, a few sliding over the edge of the pool and disappearing into the bubbling water with a Plink!.

Topher and Emma follow me more slowly. Emma stares at the water with a doubtful frown. "It doesn't look very drinkable."

I hate it, but she's right. The water inside is constantly churning, a heavy white froth splashing is around the edge and thick bubbles cluster at the center. It's odd, but it kinda reminds me of a bathtub.

"I don't think we should try drinking that," I say with a shake of my head. Why the hell did the Gamemakers fill an entire area with these pools?

"Are you quite certain?" Topher crouches beside the pool, staring at the liquid inside with intense curiosity. "It does indeed appear to be a hot spring, but if we could get some of the water out, perhaps we could--" Topher dips his hand into the water. Immediately he jerks it back out, screaming in pain as he recoils from the pool.

His body lands against the stones, rolling away from the water as he howls at the top of his voice. He clutches his hand close to his chest, and I can see that it is a harsh red color. "Oh, that stings like the Dickens!"

Emma gasps in shock, dropping down beside the boy and checking to see if he is okay. I slowly come to a realization. The water is hot. Not just hot, but boiling hot. Hot enough to scald someone who had just barely touched the surface.

The springs aren't just un-drinkable, they're a health hazard as well.

"Give me your hand!" With trembling arms, Emma pulls her satchel open. That's when I realize that she's not just checking on Topher--she's helping him. The burn cream she retrieved from the bloodbath will heal burns received from water just as well as they'll heal ones from fire.

Topher lies still as Emma applies the cream with shaky hands. His hand, which just moments before was red and patchy, slowly begins to heal. The Capitol's technology is at it again. I almost wonder how this world has any conflicts with medicines like that.

"Oh my goody-gosh goodness!" Topher sits up straight, examining his newly healed hand. "I knew such a thing was possible, but I never thought that I'd see a burn heal so quickly!"

His eyes shine with intense curiosity as he takes the tube of cream from Emma's hand, studying its contents with an inquisitive gaze. I smile to myself. Even here, Topher still finds it in him to be passionate about what he cares for. They couldn't take that away from him. They never will.

"We were lucky we had this," Emma whispers quietly.

"Yeah, we were." Emma thinks too negatively. She thinks about the situation as being bad--without our luck, Topher would still be wounded. I think about it as being good--luck bailed us out, so we should be thankful for it. She worries about what would happen without luck. I'm just glad we have luck.

I can to change her viewpoint. I just need to think of how.

"Well now, that was quite an interesting ordeal," Topher sticks the container back into the satchel as he stands up. "But that does not give us water. Our throats will remain parched for the time being."

I nod. "But I doubt we'll find any here. We should--"

Boom! A cannon shot interrupts me. Emma looks to the sky as a second cannon comes, followed by a third and a fourth; all the way to six. All of the good vibes I had managed to bring back are wiped away in an instant.

"The bloodbath deaths," Emma says quietly. "Two of those were for Nicholas and Elia."

Topher nods, his body posture sagging. "Dead because I ducked..."

"We couldn't have stopped their deaths," I need to try and stop this depression. Sadness unconstrained is a disease. It'll sap away your will to live. "But we can make sure theirs meant something."

"It was your District partner who killed Elia," Emma turns to me, her voice cracking with emotion. "Maybe if you had been friendlier to her, she wouldn't have wanted to kill us!"

I shake my head. "No. Nylah isn't like you and me. She's...different. She doesn't need or want contact with people. No matter how nice I was to her, she'd have still done it. Nylah will kill whoever she has to, in order to win." She'll even kill me, I add silently.

Emma nods, fresh tears pouring down her face. "I-I'm sorry, Bastien. I...shouldn't have blamed you."

"It's okay. You were just lashing out. It's normal to feel the need to blame someone." Like how Holly felt after Alex's death. How I felt after hers.

Emma nods once more, then steps forward to hug me. I hug her back, feeling oddly melancholy. I don't want to die. I don't want Emma to die. But how can I prevent either?

Topher steps forward, wrapping his own arms around the both of us. "A group hug makes everything better," He says with a sagely nod.

I laugh and instantly he joins me. A few seconds later, Emma offers her own small laughter to the air. People have died. People we cared for, both in and out of the arena. But we won't stop laughing. We won't lie down and give up. Because the moment you do, the moment you surrender, they win. I won't allow that.

I'll die with a smile on my face.

Jayda Idylwyld (District 3)
Hours have passed since the bloodbath ended, but that hasn't stopped my allies from worrying.

"We abandoned them," Jonah is saying, pacing back and forth. Behind him, the tight cluster of bamboo trees reach high into the sky. Though it is still just afternoon, the forest around us is darker than it should be because of this. "We left them by themselves. If they died...it would be all our fault."

"Calm down, Jonah." I snap at the boy, unable to hold back my rising irritation. He's been like this ever since we fled the cornucopia. I don't know what is with him and his purported sense of honor. We didn't "abandon" anyone. We escaped when it was most logical. That is all.

"How can I be calm when Luigi and Lilah could be dead?" He stops his pacing and fixes me with a solid gaze. His blue eyes shine with resilience.

"What do you suppose we do?" I ask. "Go searching the entire arena for them?"

He nods his head vigorously. "Yes!"

"Well, that might have been an option...had a certain someone actually bothered to grab any supplies."

Jonah's face turns a bright red. Unlike Teddy and I, he hadn't picked up anything from the cornucopia. As it stands, our supply situation isn't as good as I'd like. All we have in the way of food is what was inside Teddy's backpack; a canister of soup and some hard bread.

We also have some iodine, which may very well come in handy if we are to ever find a natural water source. Teddy also has a roll of bandages and some shurikens, which alongside my axe, consist of our entire weaponry deposit.

I glance sideways at Teddy. He's sitting on the ground next to me, tracing a line in the dirt with a stick. He hasn't left my side since the Games began. I'm beginning to think that he sees me as a surrogate sister, someone who will protect and watch over him. He's not wrong. I will defend him as long as it is logically useful.

But unlike his actual sister, the girl who had been a prisoner with me inside that rebel prison in District 3, I will not defend him with my life. I cannot afford to. I need to live, I need to get back to the outside world. Panem is in a state of flux right now, change is guaranteed. A family like mine, like the Idylwyld's, can be a driving force for that change. If the rebel side of the family, people like my mother and father--or even myself--get positions of power, then the change may very well be for the good.

If the rest of the Idylwyld's get that power, however, then...Well, Panem may find itself even worse off than it is now.

I think back to my training session. What I did there might have helped my cause--or it may have destroyed it. No matter which, at least my family will know why exactly I'm in these Games. Personally, I have a feeling that some Idylwyld's might have been behind it.

"So what are we going to do?" Jonah has gone back to his pacing. I'm pretty sure he's soon going to wear a path into the forest floor. "We can't just sit here."

"Why not?" Teddy surprises me by speaking up. He still stares at the ground, avoiding any eye contact, but his voice is loud and confident. "It's safe here. Why should we go wandering around?"

"It won't be safe forever," Jonah responds. "If we linger in one place for too long the Gamemakers will make certain we move, if other tributes don't." Or would they? Nobody else in the arena knows this-- even I didn't know until my private training session!--but one of the Gamemakers is Edgar Idylwyld. My father.

I don't know if he will try and play things to my favor. I don't know if he even has enough sway with the other Gamemakers to do so. But I do know how he thinks, and that might just be enough of an advantage to stay ahead of any Gamemaker traps, regardless of whether or not he will assist me.

"We certainly cannot afford to stay here permanently," I say suddenly, interrupting Jonah as he is about to go on another tangent. "There's not enough shelter, for one thing. And we're safe at the moment mostly because everyone else is still recovering from the bloodbath. Once enough time has passed, they will start hunting again."

Jonah nods along with my words. "Yeah, and we should try and find Luigi and Lilah before the Careers find them!"

"And, pray tell, how do you suppose we find them?" I do not wish to move on without Luigi or Lilah. Far from it. The two of them are strong allies and I wish to have as many people possible on my side for the days to come. Yet I know that blindly wandering the arena in search of them is far from a sound strategy.

As Jonah stares silently at his feet, I come to a decision. "Very well," I say, standing up and helping Teddy to his feet. "We shall move out. However, we will not do so aimlessly. We'll head back towards the cornucopia, but do so at an angle. Hopefully that will bring us to the edge of the basin, near the swamp that rests under the cornucopia platform. From there maybe we can figure out what the rest of the arena looks like."

Jonah nods eagerly. He's just glad to be moving, apparently. Teddy is more subdued, but he doesn't protest. I feel like he'd accept any decision, so long as I'm the one who makes it. That is simultaneously encouraging and terrifying. I don't want to be responsible for his death. Not like...

I shake my head. No. No time to think such things. We have a task ahead of us. I lead the way forward, hoping that we run into Luigi on the way. The sooner he's back, the sooner I will no longer have to be the leader.

I just hope that he's still alive.

Lavender Morton (District 6)
Everything is...wrong.

The soft grass beneath my feet, which in any other location would be green, is a deep teal color. The sky, a constant sight in life that has been imprinted in my mind as ever being blue, is a lush green.

"This is still so...disorienting," I cannot help but stop and stare at my surroundings. It doesn't matter that I've been here for several hours now. The fact that the sky--the sky!--is green isn't something that you can just dismiss out of hand.

Alpha pushes his way past me. "Stop gawking. Someone is going to kill you."

I stare at his back as he cuts his way through the thick vines that litter the path before us. Well, path is too strong a word. There are no paths in this forest. The trees, a mixture of flowering oak trees with branches that proudly display a multitude of colorful branches, and another type, a thin, tall tree that has smooth, slightly zagging branches that hold host to a brilliant bluish-purple coloured flowers, grow too close together for there to really be a path.

And then there are the vines. They're everywhere. On the trees, on the shrubbery, even growing along the ground. Thick, smooth, muscular vines choke and clog the pathways between trees.

This forest is hard to navigate, but it is oh so beautiful.

"This is amazing," I breathe as Armado comes walking past, Omega trailing behind him. "This place...it's unbelievable."

Armado stops, pausing to look around at the trees that surround us. "They're rather pretty, I guess," He says with a non-chalant air. "But, more importantly, they'll provide decent cover. Especially for us." He taps his jacket, which is a deep purple color. Being from District 6, my jacket is the same.

"Is that all you can think about?" I ask as, ahead of us, Alpha stops hacking some vines to wipe away sweat. "Strategy and survival?"

"That's kinda the most important thing," He responds with a shrug. I purse my lips, fully aware that he's correct. Of course survival is the most important thing; one could say that it's the only important thing. But I want to find time for the little things in life, especially now that mine may be...shorter than anticipated.

"There's a small clearing up ahead," Alpha announces, swinging the axe one last time. There's a loud thunk as it slices through some vines and smacks into the ground. "We can rest there."

I was certainly taken back when Alpha told us how he fought with and eventually defeated Pompeii. Perhaps I shouldn't have been surprised, but I didn't expect him to be able to take on the Career leader all by himself. Alpha just might be the strongest tribute in the arena--which increases my chances of survival immensely. That is, as long as he's allied with us.

Alpha walks into the clearing, the rest of us following more slowly. It's not really much of a clearing. The trees are only a little further apart, and there's not much open area except for a small patch of grass in the center. But it's wider than most of the forest, and there's a heavy log laying on one side, and a small pond on the other.

"The water is...purple."

My awed comment says it all. The water in the pond is purple. At first, I thought that it wasn't even water. But a closer look shows that's exactly what the liquid is. Purple water. Why?

Alpha bends down, gathering some of the purple liquid in his cupped hands. I hold an arm out. "Alpha, I don't think you should--"

He brings the water to his lips and drinks it in one gulp. Wiping his forehead, he turns to me. "It's not poisonous," He says simply, then walks away. I don't know what to think of that.

Armado appears at my side. "Look at that," he says, pointing up at the thick foliage of a tree. At first I don't see anything out of the ordinary--just flowers and leaves--but then I see it. A black mirror reflects my distorted image back at me as I stare, tiny black eyes watching me like a thousand crawling insects. A camera.

"Feels weird knowing that they're watching us," I say, rolling my shoulders. I feel a pinprick like sensation on my neck, suddenly very self-conscious.

"I don't care what those bastards think about us," Armada grunts. I smile. That was a very Armado-like thing to say.

"Sunlight is fading," Alpha's voice carries over from where he's crouched beside the log. He's right. In the sky, the strange green color has begun to distort. If it wasn't for Alpha's comment, I'd have wondered what was causing it. But now I know that it's just the setting sun.

No one says anything else as Omega sits beside her brother, tucking her legs beneath her and staring blankly into the distance. I'm worried about her mental health. The Hunger Games put a huge amount of stress on everybody--but I can only imagine how it must be affecting a twelve year-old.

"At least she has family," Armado says softly. I nearly jump in surprise. I had forgotten he was right beside me.

"We have family too," I say, thinking of my grandmother back home. "And they're probably watching us right now." I hope. Is my grandmother even still alive? There's so much chaos in the world...

Armado shrugs. "Might be. I can't remember them, though, so it doesn't really do much for me."

"Oh, Armado!" I had nearly forgotten about his amnesia. It's strange to think that I first met him not all that long ago--back in a bomb shelter in District 6. It feels like I've known him for so much longer than that. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to--"

"It's alright," He shrugs again, as if it didn't matter at all to him. "I don't think my parents and I were very close."

"Have you gained any memories back?"

"No. But, well, I...never mind." His face flushes red, and I get the sense that he's embarrassed. Armado, embarrassed? It sounds silly. He's not the kind of guy I'd expect that to happen to.

We both fall silent. For some reason, I think about asking him for details on whatever he was going to say. I don't. If he wants to talk about it, he'll bring it up himself. A few minutes pass, with the four of us just sitting silently. Omega and Alpha by the pond and Armado and I near the bushes.

"You know," Armado begins quietly. "You're one of the few things I actually have any memories of."

I open my mouth to respond, but then shut it again. What does one say to such a thing? You naturally hold memories of things important to you, so does that mean I'm important to Armado? And if I am--

"Morina is another person I have memories of," Armado continues on and derails my train of thought. "No matter how much I want to, I can't forget about her. Her betrayal is always in my mind, lurking. If anything bad happens to us--and it will--I know that she is to blame for it. How could I just ignore that?"

"It's never good to dwell so much on revenge," I say softly, bad memories floating to the surface of my mind. "It'll just destroy you."

"That's just the thing. I'm already destined for destruction, so what harm can my thoughts do?"

"You might be able to die at peace," A low voice growls from behind us. My body spasms in surprise as Armado whips around to glare at Alpha. The large boy is lounging beside the pond, staring at us with bored eyes. Was he listening the whole time? I feel myself blushing, though I don't know why.

"Are you going to die in peace?" Armado challenges.

Alpha barks with laughter. "I don't plan on dying. Period." Beside him, Omega squirms uncomfortably. The little girl is always so quiet. What goes on inside her head? What does she think of our situation? Why do I care?

"Everyone dies eventually," Armado says, sounding uncharacteristically wistful. "In the end, we all go to the same place. All that matters is the path we take to get there."

"Some paths are shorter than others." With that, Alpha turns his back on us, staring out into the unnaturally colored forest. I shift my body around, unable to get those words out of my head. Some paths are shorter than others. Will my path end here, in the Games? Or will my story go on? And if it does, what will I find waiting for me back home?

There are no definitive answers. I know that, at least, to be the truth.

Takeko Zhou (District 10)
The forest was a place from a nightmare, or perhaps, someone's twisted imagination. The trees grew high into the sky, high enough to block out the sky and any starlight that must be present. Thick vines grow heavily on the trees and underbrush, grabbing and clawing at my clothes and skin as I push through them. Few trees have any leaves. Most have just bare branches, the dark gray bark stark and empty as they hang in the air above us.

Neither Carey nor I say anything as we come to a halt. I observe my surroundings with a wary gaze; my ally just stares into the distance with a blank and disinterested look. "Seems like this would be a good place to rest," I say, dropping myself onto the ground. The forest floor was damp and stagnant with the odor of decomposing wood, but it was the only place for one to rest comfortably.

Carey shrugs. "If you say so."

Such an odd girl. Truth be told, I would have left the bloodbath without her had she not been the one to find me. I'm actually surprised she bothered to find me. I didn't think that she cared much for this alliance. Yet she ensured that we left the cornucopia together. That means she must care, to some extent.

I hold my katana close as I rest on the ground. It, and the knife I have tucked in my belt, are my only possessions. They were the only things I grabbed at the cornucopia. I don't regret that decision. Food and water can be found naturally in the arena. Steel weapons cannot.

"Here," Carey hands me something she pulls from a small pouch. I take it, then stare at it doubtfully. It's a small red fruit. I don't know it's name, but I recognize it as a fruit from the Capitol's lavish parties. This one, however, is dried out.

"Where did you get this?" I ask, storing the fruit in my belt. I don't need to eat yet. Better to save this for a worse occasion. Or never. In the event it is poisoned.

"I got it from the cornucopia," Carey responds. Her dark eyes stare at me blankly and, for some reason, I feel...unsettled. Why is it that Carey is the only tribute who can inspire that feeling in me? Not the Careers, not Surorian, not even Avan, my giant of a District partner, can unsettle me as this small, frail girl can. There's just something about her. Something...off. "I thought you'd like to share."

I nod curtly at her. She accepts this response, lying her head back against a rotting log and staring into the sky, where all she can see is a dark canopy of trees and a thick gray fog. Night has fallen on the arena, but you would never be able to tell from just here. This forest makes it always looks like night.

In the distance, something howls.

"A wolf," I say quietly. I'd recognize that sound anywhere.

"Are there wolves in District 10?" Carey asks, not even looking at me. Because of the Capitol's stringent travel laws, she'd never have known much about my home District.

"No. District 10 doesn't have any wolves." It was in the mountains of District 5 where I first encountered wolves. When I was hunting a man who helped murder my parents. He knew that I was coming for him, he had learned about the deaths of his comrades. He sought to hide himself in the mountains, hiring a private army that he thought would be enough to protect him. He thought wrong. He died like all the others, without dignity or mercy.

He fed the wolves that night.

After his death, I went to the Capitol. I planned on killing the last surviving man of the cartel that killed my parents. I did not anticipate that I would be captured by Peacekeepers and entered into the Games. But it matters naught. Now that I am here, I realize that I can win and do what my father did for so many years.

Rule the underground trade with an iron fist.

An peculiar noise comes from the trees around us. I spin around on my knees, katana already at the ready. But there is nothing to see but darkness and mist. An empty forest.

"Owl."

"What?" I turn back to face Carey, who hasn't even moved from her spot. She lifts a finger, pointing into a nearby tree.

"An owl. One just hooted."

I settle back on the ground, setting my katana across my knees. Now that Carey has mentioned it, I can see that it is in fact an owl. It's a large brown thing, resting in the a nearby tree that still has it's leaves. Bright amber eyes shine out from the shadows, seemingly watching us. Did owl's eyes shine? I can't remember.

I watch it for a few moments, wondering if it will do anything threatening. When, after almost a good ten minutes, it does nothing else but rotate it's head around, I decide that it is harmless. For now.

"We will have an early start tomorrow," I say moving myself off of the ground and over to a nearby tree. Its bark is rough and pock-marked with ridges. It looks entirely uncomfortable. Perfect for my purposes. "We'll sleep in turns. I'll take first watch." I rest my back against the tree, ensuring that I am as uncomfortable as possible. Someone who is uncomfortable will not accidentally fall asleep. They will be more aware then an ordinary person.

"I don't sleep."

"What was that?" I turn to face Carey, certain that I heard her incorrectly.

She has not moved from her position lying against the log. "I don't sleep. You can sleep as long as you want, I'll take all the watches."

Something does not fit. No normal person doesn't need sleep. For a moment, I think that Carey is planning to betray me, to kill me whilst I sleep. But then I realize that is foolish. If that was her plan then she wouldn't have told me that she didn't sleep. She would have just attacked me during her turn on watch.

"I'll wake you if there is anything suspicious," She says when I don't respond. "You don't need to worry."

Oh, don't I? The back of my neck prickles with apprehension. My prior thoughts about Carey prove to be true once more. Something about her is just...wrong. I cannot place a finger on it, but there is some sort of darkness about her. I stare at her small figure, her brown hair shorn short, her wide, unblinking eyes. Is it possible that I see a little bit of....myself in the girl? And if so, why does it unsettle me so?

"Regardless," I say, shaking my head to clear the unwelcome thoughts. "I will take first watch. After two hours I will wake you and--"

"I won't be asleep," She says stubbornly.

"Fine, then. After two hours I will let you watch alone, then I will sleep." I watch her expression for a reaction, but she only nods, resting her head back against the log. I narrow my eyes as I shift my body away from her. Carey is not my concern. There are over twenty other tributes out there, attempting to kill me. I should be more focused on them.

The owl is still there, watching us. I stare at it with a determined gaze. I should probably just climb the tree and kill it. But I find myself staying put, watching the forest around me with a keen eye. The dark, oppressive atmosphere plays to my benefit. Few tributes will be brave enough to explore it's depths, especially at night.

Yet, despite that knowledge, I know that I will not be getting much rest this night.

Aphrodite Lancaster (The Capitol)
I watch from the shelter of the cornucopia as Ash and Silve move empty crates to the spokes leading out from the wooden platform. The two boys pile them one atop another, creating a barrier that will serve as a deterrent to anyone seeking to approach our bastion of governance.

"Pompeii sure seems to have recovered," Harley says from beside me. My friend is resting on an inflatable chair, one of the many we found inside the multitude of crates at the cornucopia. Her dark red hair hangs around her chin, framing her heart-shaped face.

I nod, watching the tall boy as he issues orders to Ash and Silve. Despite the loss of his hand, Pompeii has retained the domineering personality that was the catalyst for his leadership. He looks as physically well as he ever has too. He moves with grace and elegance, never unsteady or uncertain of himself as he bellows out orders. His wound has healed nicely, perhaps too nicely. Personally, I believe that he is stretching himself thin, despite the fact that he himself is doing no real work. I think he seeks to take his mind off the loss of his hand.

"He certainly has a lot of plans," I say, leaning back in my own inflated chair. It has been an...interesting day. After the bloodbath, we spent the majority of the next few hours going through the supplies, dividing the items we found into matching piles. Pompeii first awoke after that, and we spent some time getting him acclimated to the current situation. That's when night fell and when Pompeii came up with the blockade idea.

The best part about securing the cornucopia is undoubtedly the amount of supplies we have. We have enough food to last us weeks, more weapons then we know what to do with, and so much miscellaneous items that we have yet to catalog them all. I have some items in a bag lying next to my feet; it contains all the stuff I feel I'd need whenever we are to leave the cornucopia.

"Mario is certainly in no rush to help," I say disdainfully as I watch the small girl. She's crouched on the side of the cornucopia, staring out into the night sky with a wistful expression. She holds a trident in her hands, has several knives tucked about her person, and has a spear resting against the cornucopia nearby. She seems far too wary.

"It's not like she could help the boys lift those crates," Harley responds with a shrug, "She's not strong enough."

I nod slowly, observing as Pompeii leads Ash and Silve to the fourth and final spoke; the other three have already had their barricades set up. "Perhaps so, yet I didn't see her assisting anyone with anything."

Harley turns to me, surprised. "Are you saying that she'll betray us?"

"Graces, no!" I shake my head quickly. "I very much doubt that anyone will even think of betraying us until the final eight or so. I just noticed that she is very...lax in her duties." A more polite way of calling her lazy. One must always be polite. That is a lesson I've been taught since childhood. A lady must be prim and proper, always the very vision of elegant beauty.

Harley falls silent, frowning. My dear friend is quite the complicated one. I feel that there must be some sort of...darkness in her past. Oftentimes I find her just staring off into space, oblivious to the world around her. Yet she refuses to speak of anything to do with her time before training. I know from my mentors that she is the daughter of District 2's mayor, so perhaps that has something to do with it. I cannot be certain, however.

Harley suddenly looks up. "Do you really mean what you said?"

I'm taken back. "What I said about what?"

"That none of us will betray one another until the final eight?"

I let out a twinkling laugh. "Is that what's worrying you? Well, you have nothing to fear. We will not turn on one another until necessary. That is the Career way."

"In the last few games," Harley begins quietly. "The Careers have basically always split up or betrayed one another before the end. I can't imagine these Games will be much different."

I frown. Well, perhaps that was true for the 400th and 399th, but the pack in the 398th managed to stick together. And then there was the 397th, five of the last eight tributes were Careers, and the final three were all from the group.

"You have no need to worry," Is all I say. Harley accepts that response, stopping to watch as Pompeii and the rest finish their work and head back towards the cornucopia. Pompeii holds his arm over his head, calling for us all to gather. Harley and I get off our chairs and move to join him.

"What's the plan?" Mario asks as she sidles up, standing at the very edge of the group. Pompeii eyes her for a moment.

"We get some rest," He speaks slowly, his words somewhat slurred. I think that it might be a side effect of all the painkillers he's taken. "I wanted to have us hunt at night, and we would have if I hadn't been--No. We're all too tired. We'll rest, then start the hunt tomorrow."

No one says anything. I look about my allies, expecting a response but not seeing one. Silve just stands stoically, staring down Pompeii. Mario nods and immediately walks away, approaching the side of the cornucopia and sitting down, her back resting against it. Ash merely spits.

I shudder. What a vile, repulsive thing he is! How he was ever allowed in our group is beyond me. What right does a District 12 cretin like him have to be associating with us? His kind deserves to be dead on the ends of our blades, not helping us set up camp.

"Silve and Ash will have first watch," Pompeii suddenly says, looking to the sky. "The Anthem should be starting soon. After that, we'll get some rest." He stops talking, then walks into the cornucopia, settling himself down on one of the inflated chairs. His missing arm is severely hampering him--I can tell. He's less confident, less self-assured. It is rather unfortunate, but I can do nothing to heal his shattered ego.

Stifling a yawn, I follow Harley back to our chairs. The very first day of the Games may not have gone perfectly, but it very well could have ended much worse.

Zamara Nostalic (District 0)
The swamp is dark and wet. Foreboding. Mangrove trees grow large in the water, their spindly roots reaching along the darkened, murky pools and coming out the other side. Lichens and mushrooms grow thickly along the paths, and spongy moss squelches with every step.

This is not my preferred location, but it is the one I am stuck with.

I'm huddled at the base of a large tree, partially protected by its mass of roots. My clothes, while no longer soaking wet from being dropped straight into the swamp by Avan, are still not completely dry. It's almost impossible to be completely dry here. There's just too much moisture. I'd be worried about keeping my bowstring dry...if I had one.

I grimace as I think back to the bloodbath. I was so stupid for not killing Avan when I had the chance. There was no way he'd answer a question at that moment--too much adrenaline was pumping. I should have just shot him and ran.

A chill, biting wind blows past and I tuck myself in tighter, wishing I had a blanket or sleeping bag. Of all the items I gathered at the bloodbath, items pertaining to warmth were not among them.

When night first fell, I had considered starting a fire. It would provide me with the warmth I desire as well as give me some cheer. But I didn't want to take the risk. From where I currently sit, I can see the dark shape of the cornucopia platform hanging above my head. If I started a fire, the Careers world almost certainly spot the smoke, if not the fire itself. Still, that didn't stop me from trying once it got colder. I couldn't do it, however. The wood was too wet, and there just wasn't enough kindling. I don't know whether that was good fortune or bad.

I must make do with what I have.

Sleeping until morning would be the best use of my time, but I must stay up a bit longer. The Anthem should start soon, and then I'll know who died. My mind whirls with the knowledge that I could have killed several Careers--but didn't.

They were all there, all bunched up and easy targets. I could have killed two before they even knew what was happening, then killed another as they scrambled for cover. But I couldn't. They were checking on an injured ally, doing something so...humane. I'm aware that it wouldn't have stopped them, had the positions been reversed. But I'm not them. I'm supposed to be better then them. What would I have proved, killing them while they were concerned with an ally?

Nothing. I would have proven nothing--except that I was no different than they are. I couldn't have done that. My conscious wouldn't let me. But still...a part of me thinks I made a mistake. Those Careers will kill more people now that I let them live. Innocent people will die because I didn't act when I could have. And I know that to win, I'll have to kill those careers later. And I will. I just won't do it when their backs are turned.

I'm so absorbed in my thoughts that when the Anthem starts up, I nearly jump in fright. The Seal lights up the sky, illuminating the cornucopia platform above me and casting a dark, circular shadow down onto the swamp. I make a mental note to keep track of the dead kids as the faces show up, one by one.

Mercury Kwildor. Surprising. I hadn't expected him to die so early. He seemed to be a good person--for a Career. I wonder who killed him? Valencia Sonar. She was a real bitch. I don't feel the slightest bit of sadness at her passing. Nicholas Mecha. Expected. He just didn't seem to have the focus for such a brutal undertaking. Twan Crane. I don't remember the first thing about him. Elia Donsown. She was the only real threat among the alliance that everyone called The Fools. Now that she's gone, I expect her allies to follow in short order. Sad, but true. Ophelia Thrindell. She was a small girl and a loner. I would have expected her to flee the bloodbath, but she must not have, otherwise why would she be in the sky?

The Seal is back in place after that last face. I watch it with a heavy heart. I don't like seeing people die. I wish that they didn't have to. Pointless wishing. I cannot change a thing.

Feeling utterly useless, I roll over on my side and close my eyes, hoping to find some solace in sleep.

Auric Venture (Gamemaker)
Auric Venture woke up in a darkened room. He looked around sleepily, not liking the darkness that was all around him. He enjoyed sunlight and being outdoors, not being cooped up in dark rooms far beneath the earth.

I chose a poor job, then, He thought as he rolled out of bed, flicking on the rooms light and getting himself dressed. He picked out his clothing carefully; an elegant black coat over a crimson vest and a pair of stylish gold-trimmed black trousers. Auric rolled down his sleeves, then stepped out into the hallway.

The Arena Administration area was set in a series of labyrinthine tunnels below the arena. Hallways ran in a perplexing honeycomb like pattern; Auric had gotten lost several times in the week leading up to the Games. He still wasn't certain where most of the tunnels actually led.

Nevertheless, he discarded this thought as he set his path down a nearby hallway. It didn't take him long before he found the Main Administration Block. Banks of computers hummed as he brushed past them--workers greeted him automatically as they panned cameras, searched for tributes, operated the arena's movements. Many had been there since the opening of the Games the night before, and it was starting to show.

But his place was not with the workers busily doing the grunt work of the cameras and arena maintenance--his place was in the Gamemaker's Chamber, the most senior workers and necessary staff together directing the Games. Auric passed by the glossy, clinically white room, and entered the door behind it.

Inside was a simple boardroom. A large, oval table took up most of the space, but a few bookshelves lined the beige walls. The Gamemakers Chamber was actually allowed some color, something Auric was immensely grateful for.

Ten other people sat around the table, seated on overly elaborate chairs. Auric yawned as he took his own spot at the table, sitting on a chair made entirely out of crystal garnet. It wasn't particularly comfortable, but it was much more impressive than everyone else's chairs.

That was by far more important.

"You're late, Auric," A man seated at the far end of the table fixed him with a cold stare. Tarik Valii was a tall man with broad shoulders and a shortcut brown hair. He had a very stoic and utilitarian look about him. Personally, Auric felt that the man tried too hard to replicate the look of the God-Generals. "Why am I not surprised?"

"Perhaps because you have finally come to your senses," Auric said lightly, grabbing a crystal pitcher and using it to fill a matching glass with wine. "Or, perhaps, you have merely lost them."

Auric didn't think much of the early part of the Games. They were dreadfully boring, once the bloodbath was over. Things didn't really pick up until the fourth day, at least. So why bother staying up and watching the uneventful nights?

"Are you really drinking this early?" Marquis Godwin asked from his spot beside the Trevelyan brothers. Marquis was a short man with a few wisps of gray hair atop his head. He had a round face, and a very petite moustache covered his upper lip.

"I need something to get me through this meeting," Auric responded, sipping his wine.

As Marquis scoffed, another man leaned forward. "Let us, for a moment, forget about Auric and his vices. Let us return to the matter at hand." Francisco Wells was one of the more overly formal members of the Gamemakers. "We must all now decide what to do with the second day's activities. Traps, events, and mutts must all be considered. Let us open up the discussion."

Auric yawned again, kicking his feet up so that they rested on the table. The rest of the Gamemakers took their jobs too seriously. Yes, the Head Gamemaker of the 400th Games wound up dead, but that was because of his own foolishness. President Stryker hadn't even ordered his execution; the fool man simply killed himself out of some misguided sense of honor. Frankly, Auric thought that actions like that were insane.

The conversation going on around him was boring. And very tense. Besides for himself and Marquis, each one of the Gamemakers belonged to one of the Great Families of the Capitol. There was Tarik, from House Valii. Loxcin and Osjephex, the two Trevelyan brothers. Francisco Wells and his cousin, and, who could forget, three separate Idylwyld's. It seemed that an Idylwyld polluted everything, nowadays.

Auric let his gaze linger on Edgar Idylwyld. The man was the least influential of the three, yet he was the most interesting. Solely because his very own daughter was competing in the Games.

Auric wondered if he would try and interfere to help his daughter. So far he had seen nothing incriminating, but it was still early. For the most part, Idylwyld's were exempt from the law, often getting away with things that would lead to execution for most people. But interfering in the Hunger Games? The most prestigious event in the country? Not even an Idylwyld could get away with that.

Which was why Auric was so eager to see them try.

"Where is our Head Gamemaker?" Francisco stopped mid-discussion to cast his narrow eyes around the room. "He is late--even later than Auric, something I thought to be impossible."

Auric smiled at the slight. Always let people underestimate you; that way you can hide in plain sight.

"I doubt that Councillor Stryker will be attending this meeting," Tarik responded smoothly. "As a member of the Capitol Council, he has other things to focus on."

Auric still found it strange. Noctis Stryker, brother of President Stryker, a member of the Capitol Council. And the Head Gamemaker of the 401st Annual Hunger Games.

He had rarely attended meetings--the only time Auric really recalled seeing him stay longer than a few minutes was at the bloodbath. He didn't fault the man. The meetings were dreadfully boring.

"We should hurry on with this meeting," Loxcin said, his brother nodding beside him. "The tributes will be up and about very soon and I should think that we'd prefer to have our day planned before that, yes?"

"Very well," Francisco shuffled his papers and returned his attention to the other Gamemakers. "Have we decided what mutts should be released this day?"

"Two dozen Pixies," Edgar began reading off a list, sounding surprisingly bored. "Six Spewers, and two Krocs. They will join the pair of Swiftclaws already active in the arena. Is everyone of agreement?"

The men--and lone woman--at the table nodded their heads. Auric, however, let out a loud sigh. The entire table turned to look at him.

"Do you have a problem, Auric?" Tarik asked evenly, staring at him with cold eyes.

"Why, yes, I do!" Auric pulled his feet off the table, straightening his coat as he repositioned himself. "You see, there's a problem with your plan for the day--it's boring."

"Not this again," Marquis muttered to the Idylwyld next to him. Auric ignored him.

"We need to unleash a more interesting mutt. One that makes everyone stop and say 'Oh, my! That was astounding!'. In short, we need the Nahual."

Auric had expected loud objections to his idea, but he was instead greeted by something far more surprising. Silence.

Eventually, Tarik spoke. "That is an...interesting proposal. However, you know very well that we cannot use it."

Auric smiled. Oh, he knew the reasons everyone came up with, but, to him, they weren't very good ones. "Whyever not? It's not as if we could use it in the war. It's far too...unwieldy for that. So, why not have it in the Games?"

"It's not going to happen," Francisco said with a shake of his head. The rest murmured their agreements.

Auric knew that they wouldn't want to. The Nahual wasn't like any other mutt. It had one big, distinct difference: The Capitol hadn't intended to create it. It was a mistake, something born from their scientists meddling with things they didn't understand. That wasn't the only difference, however. The Nahual could also think. Not like an animal. It was more advanced then that. Smarter. The Nahual could understand abstract concepts and philosophical questions. It could solve puzzles and diagnosis problems. In short, the Nahual thought like a human.

There was only one Nahual. Since its creation had been an accident, no one knew the way to make a second. And no one had tried. The President had even created a law forbidding anyone from attempting. Too unwieldy to be used for warfare, it had been gifted to the Gamemakers to use as they saw fit.

That was fifteen years ago. The Nahual still had not been used.

"There's no reason to fear it," Auric continued to try and press his idea on the unwilling group. "The Nahual listens to orders. It will do as we instruct."

"That may be true," Edgar began, leafing through papers on his desk. "But I do not think that we should use it."

"Why not?"

There was no response. The rest of the Gamemakers sat at their desks silently, looking uncomfortable but saying nothing. The truth was that they only hesitated to use the Nahual because they were frightened of it. It wasn't like the Annhilator, big, flashy, and almost indestructible. Nor was it like the jabberjay, small and non-violent, but incredibly useful. The Nahual was something else.

Something better.

"It will not be used," Tarik spoke firmly, setting a hand down atop the table. "We, as a group, have decided against your proposition."

That settled it. Auric shrugged as the rest of of Gamemakers began to rise. They would each go see to their own individual tasks in managing the Games. Auric's own primary job was setting the resources in the arena; something that was, for the most part, already finished.

Auric downed his glass of wine in one drink, then tossed it to the side. It had been a good try. He had so desperately wanted to see the Nahual in action. It was a subtle thing, one that may not be immediately obvious, but was by far hugely effective. He doubted he'd get to see it. These were the final Hunger Games, after all.

There was no point hiding from the truth. Despite what others thought, Auric knew that the Capitol would lose the war. Especially after the destruction of District 14. The Capitol would fall, and so would the Games. Auric himself would probably be executed.

Auric shrugged, standing up and following the others out of the room. He was going to pass the time in the spa they had in the Arena Recreation Unit. If one was to consider the end of the world, it was better to do it from the lap of luxury.

Pompeii Vulcan (District 4)
I am awake before the others.

I sit on the edge of a crate, staring out at the dark shape of a forest in the distance. The unseen sun is creeping up over the horizon, bringing light to the arena. It glints softly off the metal of my hand. I watch the light sparkle, feeling melancholy.

Yesterday, I had a hand cut off. For the third time. My body shudders as I think of the incident, of the blinding, pulsating pain. I stare at the cauterized stump that was once my left arm.

I feel...empty. I've never felt this way before. Not even when Kenneth originally cut my hands off. Back then, it had happened too fast for me to comprehend and, when I had woken up, I had already been gifted the steel hands.

I had thought them a gift. After all, they were much more powerful than simple hands of flesh and bone. I didn't care that I had lost my sense of touch. I didn't need it. There was no pain either, that first time. I was treated well by the hospital.

But now...

Compulsively I reach into my jacket pocket and pull out bottle of pills. I drown the painkillers in one gulp, shuddering as I feel my senses slowly deaden. Despite my arm being...treated I can still feel the pain. It's always there, in the back of my head, waiting for my sense to return...

I stand up and head back towards the cornucopia, trying to shake those thoughts from my head. Ash, who is on guard duty, spins to face me as I approach. I give him a reassuring nod he returns to his watch.

He's a good ally. Some of the others may not like him, but he's more than worthy of being apart of the Careers. He may not say much, but better a silent soldier then a loudmouth idiot.

The others are still asleep. Unable to banish my restlessness, I pick up a sword and begin to go through some simple forms. Unfortunately, but not unexpectedly, I am not as quick or powerful as I was with two hands. The sudden loss of weight also effects my balance far more than I had envisioned it would.

Still, I practice. There is nothing to be gained by moping or wishing for the impossible. My hand may be gone, but that does not mean that I am done for. With one hand I am still far more deadly then most people are with two.

Ash watches me as I practice. I feel a little self-conscious, but he is evidently impressed. He nods approvingly as I finish with a flourish of strikes. "You're real good, boss man," He says.

I nod at him. "Practice makes perfect, after all."

A loud yawning noise has both of us turning around. Harley and Aphrodite are walking out of the cornucopia, looking tired and slightly disheveled. "Is it time?" Harley asks while blinking sleep from her eyes.

I look to the sky. While the sun itself is still entirely hidden behind the clouds, sunlight has awashed the arena with a soft yellow glow. "Yes. We should start our hunting."

Silve and Mario join us shortly. Neither of them looks the least bit tired. Silve stretches out his limbs. "So, which biome are we tackling?"

We had done some scouting yesterday, and while we didn't actually enter any of them, we did learn enough to differentiate the biomes. I can't imagine that many people tried to hide in that dark looking forest, but perhaps that's the idea. Why would anyone think to look in there?

"Any ideas?" I try and be diplomatic. There's no point in infuriating my only allies with pigheaded stubbornness.

"The colorful forest," Mario says instantly, pointing to the south. "That's where I think we should go."

"Any objections?" I turn to face my allies, but none of them speak. Silve shakes his head.

"We're all fine with that," He says. I nod. All of them are good people, there's not a whiner among the bunch. Silve especially is a good soldier. Many people back home watching probably expect him to try and make a move for leadership, now that I am wounded. But he's not like that. He, like all of us, are tributes of honor and integrity. We'd never turn on one another.

An uncomfortable twinge stirs in my stomach. I've always knew this day would happen; I've trained my entire life for the Games. I always thought that I would win the Games with ease, killing anyone who opposed me. But now that I'm here, now that I know my allies, I no longer have such confidence. I will eventually have to kill them. But...they're all good people. I don't want to see them all dead. At least that's not something you have to worry about for a few more days, A voice in my head says.

For some reason, that brings me little comfort.

We all gather our weapons and any other equipment we might need. Once we're all ready to go, however, Harley surprises me by stepping forward. "I think we need someone to stay behind and guard."

"No one is stupid enough to try and steal from us," Ash says, spitting as he speaks.

"Well, I, for one, think that Harley is right!" To no one's surprise, it is Aphrodite who speaks. She and Ash have never really gotten along. If Ash were to say that the sky was blue, she'd disagree just for the sake of it.

But, then again, the sky is green over one biome...

"Very well," I decide that it is time to make an executive decision, stepping between the squabbling Aphrodite and Ash. "We'll keep two people back as guards. Harley, Aphrodite, do you girls think you can do that?"

The two of them nod.

As I turn, I find myself trying to use my non-existent left hand to scratch my face. I let my arm drop back to my side, feeling hollow. I'm weak. Weaker than I have ever been before. I don't like it. Not at all.

I lead the Careers out across the platform, hoping that I appear more confident then I feel.

Corin Greer (District 5)
When I wake up in the morning, I bolt straight to my feet. My hands grab for my sword, which I kept next to me as I slept. And I'm glad I did. Because the world...it's changed.

The grass is dark teal, a color that is not in any way natural. The sky is a deep green, something that--

I blink slowly, then sit back down, leaning against the moss covered log I spent the night using as a pillow. Memories return to me. I am in the arena, the biome that is hugely messed up.

Why the hell did they think that was a good idea?

I lie still for several long minutes. I survived the night. That's good. Eventually I decide to rise, pulling myself up and looking around the forest. Where's Cecil? I don't see him anywhere.

I'm not about to call out for him. That would be stupid and unnecessary. What kind of idiot would make such a ruckus out in the arena? Especially just to find an ally. Hell, I don't even know I can trust Cecil.

Cecil. Blind. It's almost impossible to believe. It angers me, but not because he's blind. He lied to me. He let me think that he was as capable as any other tribute out here. His blindness may not be a complete liability, but it sure the hell isn't an advantage.

"Corin."

Cecil's voice in my ear has me jump. I spin around, sword out, and just narrowly avoid cleaving his head from his shoulders. "Don't sneak up on people like that!" I snap as he shies away from me.

"Sorry." He ducks his head meekly and I find myself feeling guilty. Unnecessarily so. He's the moron who snuck up on me! I could have accidentally killed him! Still...I didn't think that a blind person could move so stealthily.

"That was impressive," I admit grudgingly. He looks up, a small smile on his face. Suddenly I feel irritated. He didn't purposely sneak up on me just to show his skills, did he? Judging by his sly smile, I don't think I need an answer to that.

Not for the first time I find myself wishing that I could see through those sunglasses. "How do you do it?"

"Do what?" He asks, squatting down and running a hand through his unruly brown hair. "Sneak around in a forest?"

"That and everything else. I'd have thought that a blind person would be killed at the bloodbath." And he would have been, if not for me. I think back to fighting off those two careers and smile. If I can beat them, then I can beat anyone.

"My hearing is better than most people's," He says simply.

"There has to be more than that."

He shrugs. "I have some martial arts training, but it's not like I've fought anyone off." So that's it. I was wondering how he was so skilled. His expertise with weapons, shurikens in particular, was what originally led to me selecting him as an ally. As I watch him pluck a blade of grass and stick it between his teeth, a thought strikes me.

"Could you teach me?"

"Teach you what?"

"You know," I gesture with my hands. "Your martial arts. I think it would do me some good to know that stuff."

"Oh...I don't think it's that useful," He shakes his head and I frown. So. He wants to keep his skills for himself? I can't blame him for that, but I can't take no for an answer either.

"Come on, show me. I'll teach you some sword skills in exchange."

Cecil shakes his head. "What good would that do me? I don't have a sword, and I would never be able to beat someone who can see."

"So you'd rather give up without even trying," I say flatly.

He bristles slightly. "I didn't say that! I--fine. I'll teach you some of the moves I know, if it'll make you happy." I allow myself a smile. I've always enjoyed my ability to convince people to do what I want. I'm just good at that.

We find a relatively open area, free of any entangling vines or trees, then Cecil proceeds to walk me through some of his simpler moves. I pick it up with speed, easily replicating some of the things he shows me. When he decides to give a demonstration, however, I'm taken back by how quickly and deftly he moves.

"You're good," I say as he finishes a move set and stops to take a drink of water. Because of the amount of ponds in the area, we don't have to worry about running out n

"You sound like you're surprised."

"I am. You're blind, after all."

He pauses, then chuckles softly. "You're a very blunt person, Corin."

I shrug. "So I've been told." Better that he thinks I am that simple. Never let people know just how layered you all. If he doesn't think that I am capable of being sly and manipulative, then all the better for me.

In the trees, a bird caws. Instantly Cecil's gaze snaps to where the bird shoots from a high branch, soaring off into the sky. I watch silently, impressed. "Your hearing is very good."

"Yeah..." He scratches his ear, looking almost self-conscious. "I can hear a lot of stuff, but when hearing is the only thing you have, it's not about what you can hear, but about what you can ignore.

I frown, confused. Cecil seems to notice this, as he quickly carries on. "You see, you need to be able to judge what is important and what isn't. If you can't separate the two, then you'll never know if that noise you hear is a sword swinging for your head or--" He spins around, hand shooting out into the air behind him. "--just a harmless leaf fluttering to the ground."

He opens his palm, revealing a dark teal leaf.

I stare at the leaf with quiet surprise. "Impressive."

He smiles, his face reddening somewhat. This time, I'm certain he's feeling self-conscious. Time to knock him off his high horse. "It's impressive, but it clearly didn't help you at the bloodbath. You were just standing there like a startled duck."

His smile vanishes. "Yes, well...the bloodbath was a little...too overwhelming."

That's true enough. I could barely comprehend the thing myself, and I have the full ability of sight. Deciding that we've spoken enough, I try some more of the moves he taught me. As I practice, however, Cecil speaks, "What's that thing you wear? On your back. Is it a cape?"

I halt my movements, Elijah's jacket fluttering to a stop with me. "You can tell?"

He nods. "Yeah, I can hear it flapping when you move. Is it your token?"

I nod slowly. "Yes. It's my father's jacket." I don't need to say anything more than that. I didn't even need to say as much as I did. What does it matter to Cecil? Nothing. It doesn't matter at all. "Come on. Let's get back to training. After you show me some more moves, we can train with the sword."

He nods, then joins me in our silent practice.

Zamara Nostalic (District 0)
The Careers have not left the cornucopia unguarded. I expected that, of course, but I was hoping that they might have been lax with their duties. Unfortunately, they're just as competent as I feared.

I crouch in the very edge of the cornucopia platform, near the spoke that leads to the ominous-looking forest. Thick foliage covers me as I lie flat on my stomach, watching as two figures move about on the distant platform.

Two guards. That was actually not something I had accounted for. It's not an insurmountable hurdle, but bypassing two Careers will be immeasurably harder than going against one.

I wish I could tell who they left behind. My eyesight is good, but not that good. From where I lie, the two Careers are little more than indistinguishable figures. Still, knowing that there is only two helps. I just wish I knew where the rest had gone.

It's not yet noon, and the warmth offered by the sun--still hidden behind a thick blanket of clouds--is insubstantial. A chill wind blows across the dead brown grass, and I shiver. I do not like this arena.

It was the swamp that hindered my journey here; I probably would have arrived before the Careers left had it been simpler to navigate. But the swamp has very few real paths, and even those are riddled with thick glops of mud and hidden sinkholes. One wrong step could have ended my time in the Games. Then I had to pick my way up the steep pathways that crisscrosses the ravine that leads into the swamp. It was slow work. Better careful then dead, as the old adage goes. I just wish being careful hadn't left me playing without a full deck of cards.

When will the other Careers return? How long did they leave? What biome did they enter? Knowing any of this information would have been incredibly useful. I don't want to make my play just as the others show up. After all, the reason I'm here is because I lack a real weapon.

I slide my fingers down the length of an arrow. I have exactly ten of these, and while I have no bow to fire them with, they still have steel tips. Worst comes to worst, I can stab or slash someone with them, just like I did with Avan.

Of course, the people I'm fighting will have much superior weapons.

Out on the platform, one of the Careers walks into the shelter of the cornucopia. The other crouches down near the western spoke, the spoke furthest from my own.

This could be my chance. The Careers have organized their items into several different piles, and each one is about two feet away from the next. Only one of the piles is directly in front of the mouth. With luck, that pile isn't the weapons. If I just rush in and grab what I need, I could be able to get away before they even notice my presence.

It won't be easy, however. In the middle of each spoke is a wall of crates, stacked three high, that stretch from barricade to barricade. The crates themselves are more than six feet tall. To bypass them, I'd have to push one over, or carefully pull it down. Doing either would draw the guards' attention.

Like I said, the Careers were just as competent as I thought they'd be.

They didn't plan for me, however. Who better to defeat the Careers then one who was trained in their own ways? No one in the arena knows that about me. But maybe they'll soon find out.

I crawl out from the undergrowth and make for the platform at a speedy crouch. The Careers aren't looking and I make short progress of the open ground. Before I know it, I've reached the wall of crates.

Now comes the hard part. While the Careers themselves cannot see over the crates, neither can I. If I try slowly pulling them, I may very well be exposing myself. Still, I cannot afford to not act. That would undermine my whole purpose here.

With one hand firmly clutched around an arrow, I use the other to pull the topmost crate towards me.

It hits the wooden deck with a thump. Through the now visible slot, I see as the red-haired District 2 girl spins around to stare at me.

Then she yells for help.

Cursing, I throw myself over the crates, knocking a few more over in the process. The weapon pile lies near the center of the platform, next to the cornucopia. The District 2 girl, Harley, I think her name is, stands between me and it.

"Time to show your skills, Zamara," I mutter to myself. As another girl comes running out of the cornucopia, I sprint forward. Harley moves to meet me, her arm rising as she lifts a large warhammer over her head.

I slide just as she brings it down. The weapon sails over my head, crashing into the wooden boards. As she stumbles from the impact, I slam my arrowhead into the back of her thigh.

She falls to one knee with a yelp as I turn to face the next Career, pulling two more arrows from my quiver. Aphrodite approaches me warily. In one hand she holds a elegantly curved sword. In the other a shield.

This is going to be tricky.

Aphrodite charges forward with a flurry of quick strikes. It takes all of my speed to roll out of the way. I regain my feet and break into a run towards the pile of weapons. Aphrodite screams in rage behind me.

"Harley! Help me! We can't let her get away!"

My goal here isn't to kill them, even though I now think that might be possible. I'm only here for weapons.

I reach the pile and instantly grab two daggers, sticking each one into my belt. Next, I grab the silvery bow--the only one that is present--and sling it over my shoulder. Next, I--

A sword cleaves the air next to my head. I throw myself to the side as the follow-up blow slashes towards me. Aphrodite swings with careful precision, each strike aimed at my weakest parts. Unfortunately for her, I am too quick to hit.

"You. Will. Not. Escape!" Aphrodite growls with frustration as I back away. One of the spokes is close. I could turn and run. I doubt Aphrodite would catch me. But another part of me wants to stay and fight. I could kill two Careers right here and now. I could make up for my failure at the bloodbath.

Something hits me in the side, slamming me to the ground. The air rushes out of my lungs as Harley grapples herself atop me, hands fumbling for my neck.

My hubris cost me. I should have escaped while I had the chance. But I'm not dead yet.

I reach back into my quiver and pull an arrow free. I jab this at Harley, but this time she sees it coming. She throws herself off me, rolling to the side in order to avoid the blow.

Instantly I'm on my feet, sprinting down the nearest spoke. I hear no footsteps following, but I don't turn around to look. I blast through the wall of crates, scattering them as I hurtle down the wooden passageway.

It's not until I reach the oddly-colored forest, my side aching with pain and my hands damp with sweat, do I turn and look back.

Harley and Aphrodite are standing by the cornucopia, stationary. They make no move to follow me.

With a relieved breath, I turn and plunge into the forest, glad that my plan was, for all extents and purposes, successful.

Mario Firth (District 4)
We make our way through the coloured forest as quietly as we can manage. Pompeii leads the way, his good hand holding a sword that he uses to cut down any brush that covers our path. Ash follows closely behind him, a slingshot in his hands and an axe at his side. Silve and I bring up the rear.

This hunt better have good results. Though there are six Careers left, there are still twenty other non-careers. If we don't start killing off the real threats now, it will undoubtedly come back to bite us later.

Regardless of whether we kill the others or not, I know that I have to start planning for the fall of the Careers now. Eventually this group will absolve; either because we start killing one another or because someone else takes us out. It doesn't matter which. I just need to have a backup plan for when it happens, because it will happen.

Pompeii growls with annoyance as he cuts down a low-hanging branch and we emerge into an empty clearing. We've been hunting for over an hour now with no luck. "Want to take a break?" Silve asks him quietly. I don't know whether he's tired or simply bored.

"No. No breaks. We keep going until we find someone!" Pompeii charges off into the forest again, already hacking down some more branches.

"We'll never find anyone by making so much noise," I mutter this to Silve. He grunts in agreement.

Ash watches us with narrowed eyes. "Why don't you tell Pompeii instead of keeping this to yourself?"

I turn to glare at the boy, but as I am doing so Pompeii looks back. "What are you guys arguing about?"

"Mario thinks we're making too much noise," Silve responds instantly. At first I think he's throwing me under the boat, but then he continues. "And I agree with her. We need to move more stealthily. The other tributes fear us; any noise we make will send them running for the hills."

Pompeii stops to consider this. For a moment I think that the idiot will just dismiss my idea out of hand, but he surprises me by nodding slowly. "I suppose you're right. We should move more carefully." He returns to his path, but he no longer uses his sword with such wanton disregard. He even steps more softly.

Ash walks pass me, a smug look on his face. "Told ya so."

I ignore him. I don't care about him in the slightest. He may be one of the stronger Careers, but he still has weaknesses. Weaknesses that I can exploit. I just need to find them.

I've been cataloging the weaknesses for all of my allies. Some of them have obvious ones, like Aphrodite and her arrogance. That will undoubtedly be the cause of her downfall. Others were less clear, especially Pompeii, but then he got injured and gave himself an obvious weakness. Exploiting the loss of his hand should prove easy enough.

I haven't yet figured out Silve's weakness, but I'm beginning to think that I won't have to. Unlike the rest, I might not have to abandon him. He might just be an ally I can take with me all the way.

That is, if I can get him to trust me.

That boy doesn't even seem to trust his own shadow, let alone another person. Gaining his trust won't be an easy task; it might even be impossible. But I have to go with him. None of the others are worth anything.

"So, what's our plan for the day?"

As the words drift through the forest, I stiffen instantly. Beside me. Silve does the same. That voice does not belong to any Career. That means one thing. We found some tributes.

Ahead of us, Pompeii mouthes words at us, pointing with his sword. The tributes are just to the east of us, behind a group of thick oak trees and a mask of heavy vines. Silve taps me on the shoulder and points to his chest. He wants me to follow.

He skirts around the edge of the trees, me following close behind. Ash and Pompeii slip around the other side. We seek to catch the tributes in a pincher attack. And there are multiple tributes. I hear several voices talking as we make our way towards them, crouching low to the ground, hidden behind the thick-growing vines.

Silve stops behind a holly bush, his body tense as he peers through gaps in the foliage. I sidle up beside him and peek my own look at the tributes. There's four of them. The pair of District 6 and the pair from District 11. Perfect.

This alliance is the deadliest in the arena. Left unchecked, they will run rampant through the Games and one of them will emerge as an unchallenged Victor. That is why it's so crucial that we cut them down here and now.

Alpha, the boy from District 11, stands at the head of the alliance as they stand in a small circle, conversing with one another. He's a tall, broad-shouldered boy with brown hair cut short in Peacekeeper-style. He was the one who cut off Pompeii's hand, using that large axe that rests over his left shoulder. He will be hard to take down.

But poison will kill him swiftly.

I know that some people back at the Career Academy--and probably some of my allies--think that poison is a cowards weapon. They think that if you are to kill a person they are entitled to see you coming and have a chance to defend themselves. I think that's a stupid line of thought. If you're going to kill someone, best to do it as effectively as possible. If that means using poison, then so be it.

My sister thought that my little knives would be ineffective. I'll show her the effectiveness of my knives. This morning I took the liberty of coating them with a layer of poison received from the cornucopia. Now my "little knives" will fell the tallest of giants with single glancing blow.

Silve nudges my shoulder with his elbow, pointing behind the four tributes, at a bush where you can see Pompeii and Ash getting ready to rise. So we'll soon attack. But who will target who? We need a coordinated strategy. We can't just rush in and--

Pompeii leaps out of the bushes, screaming a war cry as he charges the quartet. Next to me, Silve mutters a curse and leaps out to lend his aid to our leader. I hiss in annoyance.

The tributes see Pompeii's approach and react vastly different ways. Alpha swings his axe into motion, charging Pompeii with an equally loud cry of fury. Omega bursts into tears before turning and running away with Lavender. Armado holds his spear in one hand, using the other to point at his allies. He pulls this back with a scream as a flurry of metal balls smash against his hand. Ash smiles as he stuffs his slingshot into his pants and charges with his axe.

Armado does the only sane thing. He turns tail and runs.

Silve and Pompeii both descend on Alpha as his allies desert him, fleeing in opposite directions into the woods. I'm holding a knife, ready to throw, but find that I have no targets. Lavender and Omega have long since disappeared into the woods, Armado is fleeing in another direction with Ash close behind him, and trying to hit Alpha would be deadly towards my own alliance. I cannot do anything.

Instead, I turn to watch the battle.

Alpha fights with brutal strength, his axe smashing away the swords of Silve and Pompeii. He is ferocious and swift, dancing away from their blades when they grow too close. But he's no trained warrior. He didn't spend his life training for this like my allies have.

In short, he cannot win.

His axe slams into the center of Silve's sword, shattering it in two as the hefty blade comes down. But this leaves him open to Pompeii, and my leader is all to happy to take advantage of the opportunity.

There's a sound of steel meeting flesh, then a gasp of breath from Alpha as Pompeii's sword takes him just below the ribs. The tall boy stumbles backwards, dropping his axe. Pompeii rips his blade back out, a content look on his face. He must feel so pleased, defeating the boy who had chopped off his hand.

Alpha falls backwards into the thick brush and, to my surprise, there is a sound of thumping and shouts of pain as he goes.

"What happened?" I ask, stowing my unneeded knives away.

Silve peers into the brush as Pompeii cleans off his blade. "Looks like we're closer to the cornucopia then I thought. Alpha took a tumble into the swamp."

"Don't worry about him," Pompeii's face is a mask of pure elation as he turns back to the woods. "He's dead. Now, you two need to chase after those girls. I'm going to back Ash up." Before we can even say anything, he's off, dashing into the woods

Silve turns to me and shrugs. "You heard him. Lets go get those girls."

Lavender Morton (District 6)
The pounding of blood rushing to my ears is all I can hear as I run through the forest, slowed down by Omega, who clings to my arm. My breath is short and ragged. My movements quick and panicked. The Careers. The Careers have found us.

Their arrival was a blur. I remember talking with Armado when they first attacked, Pompeii springing out of the forest and charging us like a madman. Alpha stepped up to fight with him as the rest of them arrived and I bolted. I ran like a woman posessed. I fled. I abandoned.

No. I did not abandon my allies. Not all of them.

I stop my frantic movements, halting in the middle of the forest. Omega trips over a tangle of wiry tree roots, hitting the earthen ground with a muted thud. She lies there and cries. She does not try to get back up.

"What are we going to do?" The words are barely audible through her sobs. "Th-they're going to k-kill Alpha..."

I don't answer. My eyes are searching the forest around us. The vibrant trees and entangling vines. The ripe fruit and plentiful ponds. What are we going to do? I do not see an escape route.

Vaguely, I remember an incident similar to this one. But then, I was fleeing from Peacekeepers and thugs. I was in a city, an urban cesspool. There I knew places to hide, places to run. Here, I know of no such places. Not that they helped. I was caught in that city all the same.

"Get up," I reach down and take Omega by the arm, pulling the little girl up none too gently. "We need to hide. They'll be coming after us." Of course they will. Alpha must be dead already. He could only hold them off for so long. And Armado...I don't know where he went. I hope he is safe.

I know that I'm not.

I pull Omega behind me as I go back to running. The girl does little to help herself. She lies limp, as if she has given up all hope. Somewhere in the back of my mind I think to leave her behind, to make my own way through the woods. The Careers would slow down to kill her and perhaps they would be satisfied with two kills. I could escape.

But I can't. I can't bring myself to let go of the girl. To abandon her. I won't be like Morina. I will stay and help, no matter the cost to myself.

I screech to a halt as I see something that just might save us. "Here!" I scrabble over some roots and shove through a colorful berry bush. Behind it I see a large, hollow log. It must have been a fallen tree. Or maybe the Gamemakers purposely left it. I don't care. I push Omega into the small opening. "We can hide here. They won't find us." I pray.

It's cramped and uncomfortable inside the log. Movement is difficult. I'm forced to lie flat on my stomach and squirm to fit inside. And just in time. I hear the Careers only seconds after I squeeze in.

The forest shudders with the pounding of their feet as they run past, as silent as they are deadly. There's no whooping, no shouting. Just precise, deadly movements. I hear the bracken sway and shudder as they force themselves past our log.

Omega lets out a whimper.

"Quiet!" It pains to me to even say the word. My heart is beating so loudly that I cannot even hear myself, but I'm terrified that the Careers will hear us. I can imagine them descending upon the log, dragging us out by our feet, raising their steel weapons as we kick and scream. I have no weapon of my own. No way to defend myself. Death would be certain.

But they don't find us.

After that initial passing I don't hear them again. We lie inside the log for more than an hour, silent and panicked. Every now and then I will hear an animal, a squirrel maybe, or a bird, but I never hear the telltale pounding of Career feet. Eventually, when I can take being cooped up no more, I squirm out of the log.

The forest is quiet. Eerily so. My eyes flicker around the surrounding trees, searching for a hiding Career, but they see nothing. We've escaped.

Omega is a crying, shaking mess as she crawls out from the log. Her reddish-gold hair is a disheveled mop and there are tear tracts down her dirt-stained face. "Alpha is dead!" She sobs quietly, hugging her knees to her chest. Surprisingly, it's her words that bring me the realization.

"No," I say, looking up at the green sky in wonder. "He's not dead."

"Yes he is. The Careers killed him!"

"No. There was no cannon. They sound a cannon after every death, but I haven't heard a single one all day." Omega perks up, the tears stopping as she too looks at the sky. I can scarcely believe it myself. Alpha is not dead. Neither is Armado! I feel a grin on my face, much to my surprise. I don't care much for Alpha, but I'm glad that he is not dead, despite the fact that his death would only help me. Now that the Careers have a grudge against him, any worth he had as an ally is gone.

Still, I'm thankful for Omega's sake that he's alive. And Armado. The sense of relief I feel knowing that he is safe is almost as large as the one I felt when I knew that the Careers wouldn't find me.

Omega surprises me by standing up. She begins to walk off in the direction we had fled when I grab her elbow. "Where are you going?"

"Alpha is alive. He needs my help." She stubbornly shakes my hand off and darts into the forest, not the least bit concerned. I don't know whether I should feel proud or annoyed.

"We can't just wander the arena," I say quietly, marching up behind her. I don't let her get more than a few feet away from me. She may be a small, defenceless twelve year-old, but she is the only ally I have. I'm not about to let her wander off on her own. "The Careers, or someone else, will find us if we do." I'm thinking of the Anti-Careers, or Surorian. Even someone like Topher could kill the two of us if he had a weapon.

Omega, however, cares about nothing but her brother. "We need to find him. He would search for me, so I will search for him."

So search we do. Despite our best efforts, we are unable to find the spot where we were attacked. It doesn't help that the forest around us is a maze of colors and strange sights. Twice I think I see a vine moving on its own, only to look again and see nothing strange. I'm beginning to think that I've gone insane when something swoops down from the sky and lands right in front of us.

It's not a bird. Nor is it a bug. It's a person.

The small, pixie-like woman is about the size of my tallest finger. She has an angular face and flowing hair that goes all the way down to her ankles. The hair seems to give off some sort of translucent glow.

"She's so pretty..."

Before I can stop her, Omega reaches out a finger and brushes it against the little woman. I expect the Pixie to attack or growl, but instead it just...smiles. The little woman zips into the air, flying in a circle around Omega's head. I watch with wary bemusement.

"I think she wants us to follow her," Omega says.

"I don't think that's a good idea." I have more sense than to try and follow what can only be a mutt. Omega may have forgotten that we're in the Hunger Games, but I sure haven't. I'm still expecting the little woman to try and bite my fingers off.

"Trust me. She's trying to help." The Pixie zips off into the forest and Omega is following without even a word of warning. Groaning to myself, I follow along.

The Pixie seems to know where it's going, at least. She takes the most direct path through the trees, traveling parallel to the path we had taken when trying to retrace our steps. As we go, I swear that I can see several more of the Pixies floating around treetops. What do they want?

Just as I'm about to call off this stupid chase, Omega pulls to a halt. Ahead of us, the ground suddenly dips down into a small crater. Hanging above the dark trees of the swamp lies the cornucopia platform.

From this distance I can barely make out a pair of shapes lifting boxes and setting them up in some sort of barricade. Two and only two. The rest of the Careers must still be out hunting. I'm about to tell Omega that we should head back into the shelter of the trees when she let's out squeal and darts forward, sliding down the trail towards the swamp.

"Omega!" What is the girl thinking? I don't have time to think. I didn't come all this way just to lose my allies now. Deeply regretting this entire day, I peer over into the basin and see a small, curving path that leads down. Omega, who completely ignored the path, has already reached the bottom of her slide. The back of her jacket is torn, ripped against rocks while sliding. "Fool."

I take the path down. In a few moments I'm stepping onto the spongy ground of the swamp, the overbearing scent of dead wood and murky water flowing over me. I wrinkle my nose as I step forward, calling out for Omega. Where did that Pixie go anyways?

I skirt around the edges of the swamp, keeping close to the slope that leads up to the colorful forest. The cornucopia platform is still above me. Where are the Careers? I stumble forward when I hear footsteps behind me. I whirl around to find a dark-haired girl holding a loaded bow, arrowhead pointed straight at my chest.

"Who are you?" I'm surprised that my voice is so calm. I feel like I should be panicking, but instead I'm just icy calm.

The girl lowers her bow. "Zamara. I'm from District 0."

I nod numbly. I remember her. I saw her skills during training and I know that she is not someone I could beat in a fight. Zamara sticks her arrow back into her quiver. "I saw the Careers fight your alliance. One of your allies fell into the swamp, he wasn't dead but the Careers left him. I was trying to find him."

"Armado?" I ask, my excitement mixed with dreadful worry.

"No. The district 11 male."

"Why do you care?" So Armado is still missing. I hope he is safe.

"I don't like the Careers," Zamara says simply. "And anyone who is an enemy of theirs is a friend of mine." She holds her hand out for me to shake. I stare at it for a few moments, but I know that I don't have a choice.

I shake her hand.

Zamara smiles lightly. "Now, lets go get your allies."

We find Omega crouched near a tall group of reeds. She has her back to us and is sobbing softly. I open my mouth to scold her for running off but snap it shut when I see the body.

Alpha lies in the reeds, his crimson blood mixing with the brown of the mud. There's a large hole in his stomach, just below the ribs. So much blood flows from the wound that I know he must be dead, but then his eyes flicker open, slowly, but open they do.

"Omega..." His voice is barely audible. His hand rises from the ground, reaching for his sister. With a tremble, it falls back to the dirt.

"I'm here, Alpha. I'm here." Omega clutches his hand. I find myself feeling...nothing. I expected some sadness or fear, but I'm oddly hollow. The Careers defeated Alpha because that is what they do. He may have got the jump on them at the bloodbath, but it could only last so long. And if Alpha was caught...what about Armado?

"I'm so sorry, Alpha!" Omega is almost hysterical as she speaks. "This is all my fault. Everything is my fault!"

"No...it's...not..."

"But it is! I was the one who hired the men who killed our family. I...am the reason we were taken into the Games." Omega holds her brother's gaze as she speaks. I don't understand a word she says, but he does.

"No...that's..." Alpha's body goes slack, his head falling back against the mud. "Omega...why would...you..."

"I was mad at you. I wanted revenge on you, so I paid someone to do it. But he went further than I wanted. I didn't mean for this! I didn't want this! I didn't! You have to believe me!" Alpha doesn't respond. His brown eyes are glassy and unfocused as they stare straight ahead. A cannon sounds. Boom!

Omega lifts her head to the sky and lets out a wail.

Emma Brynne (District 9)
We stand near one of the bubbling pools, on the very edge of the rocky area, near the tree-line of the ominous forest as we wait for the silver parachute to land. Bastien reaches up and grabs it before it even does. The package attached to the parachute is long and narrow. It's wrapped up tightly in some sort of mesh wire, but I can still tell what it is.

"A sword," I say breathlessly. Our weapon problem has solved itself. Or, at least, it has partially solved itself. One sword is not enough for an alliance of three.

"Splendid!" Topher claps his hands together. "Absolutely splendid! That is a fine weapon you got there, Bastien." I force myself to smile along. I'm glad for Bastien, of course. But I'm also upset with myself. According to my stylist, I'm a beautiful, porcelain maiden. People in the Capitol went crazy for me at the Chariot Rides and interviews. But despite that, I didn't get any sponsor item. Bastien did, but I didn't.

I'm useless. Utterly useless. Why am I always dragging everyone else down?

Bastien gives the sword a few test swings. It cuts through the air with a swish. "Good steel," He says with a small smile. If I didn't know any better, I'd think that he actually knew what he was talking about.

Topher slaps Bastien on the back. "I daresay that the other tributes will have to take our prestigious alliance seriously now!"

"But neither of us have weapons," I point out.

Topher smiles cleverly. "Ah, but I have an excellent idea on how we could solve that problem!"

Something about Topher and the word "idea" has alarm bells ringing in my head. "I don't think we need your...idea," I say as he walks proudly over to the forests edge. Even outside the forest itself, the oppressive atmosphere it exudes seems to suck up all light.

"Not to worry. This shouldn't take long!" He walks along the trees, eventually stopping beside the trunk of a fallen one. "Everyone is always looking for sponsors and technology to solve their problems," he says as he bends down and begins to tug at one of the still attached branches, "but they forget that nature often has answers of its own."

With a loud crack he rips the branch free. It's a long, thick thing, with an elongated end and a smooth surface. Grinning like a fool, Topher pats it. "Now this little beauty is my weapon."

"It's a stick," I say flatly.

He wags a finger. "Ah, ah, ah! This is no an ordinary stick, rather, it's a sturdy stick."

It was then when I began to wonder if Topher was touched in the head. "Topher, look at what you're holding!" I try to keep the anger out of my voice, but I fail miserably. "Are you an idiot? What good do you think that will do against the Careers and their steel weapons?" It's not him whom I'm angry with, not really. I'm furious with this whole situation, with the Capitol for creating such despair and fear. What is the point of fighting? We're all going to die anyway.

"Emma, calm down," Bastien steps between me and the smaller boy. He has his sword resting over his shoulder. "Topher isn't an idiot. He knows that this stick isn't the best weapon, but it's the only thing he has."

"Bastien is correct," Topher says with a nod. "A stick, no matter how sturdy, is not my preferred weapon. Ideally I'd have a cleaver or, perhaps, one of those morning stars. They're really quite amazing. If you look at one close up--"

"Topher!" Bastien snaps his fingers and halts the boy mid-ramble. "You're getting off track again."

"Quite right, quite right. It's just that I'm prone to going off on these tangents. It's not everyday that you get to see things you've never seen before."

I laugh lightly. Sometimes Topher seems like a daft fool, other times he's just a curious boy who loves exploring the world for the first time. Either way, going off on him isn't helping. But the weight of the situation is pressing heavily on me. Not just the physical ones; I haven't had anything to drink since the Games began, but the mental ones too. I can't close my eyes without worrying about if someone or something will leap out and attack me. You never know when someone will attack. You must always be on alert, always--

A large shapes pulls itself over the rocks and before I can even scream, Avan is upon us.

He swings a wicked half-moon axe for Bastien's head with alarming speed. Bastien throws himself to the side and howls in pain as the axe takes off the tip of his left ear. Blood streams down the side of his head as he wildly slashes his sword at Avan.

Avan is a large boy--no, man. For he is no boy. He's muscled like an ox and is just as big. He stands over six and a half feet tall and moves with surprising quickness for one his size. His dark hair is windswept, his strongly featured face grim as he goes about his butchers work. Avan isn't even a man: he's a beast of legend.

Avan's axe slams into Bastien's sword, ripping it from the shorter boy's grip. The steel weapon bounces along the smooth stones, clattering like the bones of the dead. Avan steps towards a horror-struck Bastien.

Then Topher springs forward. He raises his stick in the air and smashes it down across Avan's back. The wood snaps with a loud crack! The pieces go flying as Avan stumbles, dropping his axe as he sways on unsteady feet.

Topher's grin lasts only a second before Avan whirls around and sucker-punches him right in the gut. Topher's gasp sounds like the starting of a hovercraft as he doubles over in pain, falling to his knees.

I watch in silent shock, expecting him to finish Topher off. Instead, he backhands me so hard that I fly over the rocks and into the dirt of the forest. My face explodes with pain. Blood and dirt mix in my mouth. Everything is blurry. Tears sting my eyes. I force myself to my knees and crawl towards a nearby item.

Avan has regained his axe. He is descending on a weaponless Bastien. Topher cannot help. He's still lying on the ground, writhing and moaning in pain. Despite the hopelessness of the situation, Bastien faces Avan with courage. But he will die. Just like everyone I care about.

No. Not him. Not him. Not him!

My hands curl around the hilt of Bastien's sword and then I'm on my feet. Blood drips from my ruined mouth as I run forward and, with a shout of denial, thrust the sword through Avan's back.

The beast of a boy staggers, then looks down. The tip of the sword, glistening red with his blood, peeks out from between his ribs. He gurgles something unintelligible. Frothy red spittle flies from his lips. Then he falls.

There's only silence. Even Topher has stopped moaning. I stare down at the beasts body, wondering if it is truly dead. If Bastien is actually safe. I grab the hilt of the sword and pry it loose. There's a wet squelching sound it's pulled free. A cannon. Boom!

"You...you saved us, Emma!" Bastien sounds shaken as he shambles towards me. His eyes are fixed on the beasts corpse. "That was...amazing!"

I don't feel amazing. I feel cold. Hollow. Bastien almost died, but I saved him. He was different. I couldn't save Nadine or Cadence. I didn't save Elia or Nicholas. But I saved Bastien. Why is that?

Bastien begins to say something else, but I throw my arms around his neck, hugging him close. Dead. So close to being dead. And not yet safe. None of us are safe. Least of all him.

My sobs fill the eerie silence of the hot springs.