Hunger Games: The First Quarter Quell (IC, Open)

[Galnius]

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"Welcome, welcome citizens, to the start of another Hunger Games!" began Ricardo Trinterem, the newest announcer. He spoke with a scratchy, yet addictive and calming voice. "Now, this one, you see, this one is special. For 25 years, the 12 Districts of Panem and the Capitol have lived in peace and prosperity. Sadly, we all still have reminders of the Districts treachery." At this point the announcement paused, replaced by pictures of war and destruction. Many pictures flashed through, starting with bombings, wounded, body bags, a woman holding a dead child, and lastly, a picture of District 13, now destroyed, a destroyed flag still waving in the nuclear disaster. "That last one always gets me, it's just so....sad. Well, moving on, this year, as the 25th Hunger Games, we have announced a special event, called a Quarter Quell! Every 25 years, a special Hunger Games, each with a different, unique This year, you, the family, friends, and neighbors, will vote to choose who goes to the Games. This is to symbolize how the Districts turned brother against brother and father against son when they rebelled. Today it, begins, and 24 of you lucky people will be chosen to attend this glorious event. Now, we begin, THE 25TH HUNGER GAMES!! May the odds, be EVER in your favor." The screen went black, beginning yet another bloodbath-to-be.....

[Slenderman The CreepyPasta King]

Despite training most of his life for the hell hole the hunger games was, he still didn't want to be apart of it. He didn't think anyone did. But he had to vote, and to save everyone else in district 1 from competing, he voted for himself. 'well, that's one vote closer for me competing in the games.' Anthony thought while voting for himself.

[Sirlya]

District 11
Fralnick's Story

Fralnick took in the information very slowly. He would have to vote for someone.. one of his friends.. to go to the Hunger Games. He did everything he could to hold back from letting tears flow from his eyes, he couldn't do this. He had already seen too many of his friends go already, but now HE had to choose who it was. The silence of the room was unforgiving. His 12 year-old sister had already ran to embrace her mother, while Fralnick just sat there, speechless.

"They cant' really expect us to do this can they?" His mother broke the silence. "That's not fair!"

"Since when has the Capitol been fair to the districts?" Fralnick uttered still with his eyes looking straight forward.

"They can't do this. They can't." She said in a panicked tone.

"They already have, Mom." He said as his teary eyes looked at his mother's.

"Oh Nick.." His mother said getting up and embracing him in a firm, loving hug.

They both began to weep, for the thought of sending one of their closest friends to the Hunger Games was almost unbearable. "Shhh, maybe it will be smeone we don't know this year." His mother whispered into his ear.

"Who don't we know in District 11? We know everyone Mom!" He exclaimed

"Please.. just calm down.. It will be okay." She said rubbing him in his back.

Fralnick stood there a moment, wiping tears from his weary eyes, looking at both his mother and his sister, then collected himself and looked his mother in her eyes.

'I..I want it to be me." He slowly said.

"What?" She asked with a unsure expression on her face.

"I want to go to the Games." He said more reassured this time.

"Nick. No. You can't-" She got out before Fralnick interrupted her.

"I can win Mom! I can do this. Please. It's better I do this than risk little Rosaline going to the Games." He said assuring her that he could win. "Just imagine our lives when I when! We'll be able to live in the Victor's Village and have no more worries! Just.. please Mom.. vote for me." He said as he stared her in her teary eyes.

"If you really think you can do this.." His mom said before a tear fell down her cheek.

"Mom, you don't have to cry.. I'll come home. I promise this to you." He said as he hugged her as tight as he could.

"Rose.." His sister immediately ran into his arms and hugged him.

"You better come back. You hear me?" She said in his ear.

"Of course I will." He answered her and kissed her on the forehead.

"I'll be back in a few hours. I'm going to tell the rest of the District that I want in the Games." He said hugging Roseline and his mother.

"Be safe.." His mother told him.

"Always." He said with a smile before walking out the door.

First, he went to all his friends' house to tell them. After a moment or two of arguing with them each time he demanded one of them to vote for him, they agreed, as well as did their parents. He went to the town sqaure, "VOTE FOR ME, FRALNICK SILVERLOCK. I WANT IN THE GAMES. VOTE FOR ME. FRALNICK SILVERLOCK!" He shouted going down the streets. He continued to go door-to-door demanding that everyone vote for him. Nobody said no. He finally returned home, where his sister had already been to bed, but his mother had been waiting for who knows how long.

"So..?" She said in an obviously scared tone.

"There almost no chance I won't be going to the Games." He said sitting down beside her.

"Oh Nick.. Why are you doing this?" She asked, trying to hold back her tears."

"I need to Mother. Remember how bad it hurt seeing Timothy be sent into the Games? Then, Eric, Sam, and Baxter." He said before taking a pause, the memory of his best friends sent chills through his spine. "They never came back. I would've done anything to take their place. But they forced me not to volunteer, but now. I can make my own mark, I can stop from one of my friends being a pawn in the games. I'm have to do this. For District 11, for me, for us, for my friends. I have to."

"Please. Just come back." His mother demanded of her son.

"I swear I will." He said as he wrapped his arm around mother. "Now get some sleep, the voting is tomorrow."

"I love you Fralnick. Remember that." His mother said as she rested her head on his shoulder.

"I love you too, Mom." He said as he silently let a tear flow down his cheek.

His mother drifted off into a deep sleep, Fralnick on the other hand, he couldn't sleep. Images of past games rang in his mind, he was scared, but he knew he needed to do this, he needed to get revenge against the Capitol in some form or another.

---

The Next Day
Reaping/Voting

Fralnick stood in the crowd, votes had already been submitted. He looked around to see his mother softly weeping, and Rose obviously holding back tears for she knew that her brother was about to be sent to the Games. The time was near, signaled by the loud noise of Panem's national anthem.

As the Anthem of Panem ended, it was time for the results to be announced. Fralnick zoned out, he wasn't sure what to do. He was only sure that he was going to the games. People had been giving him stares all day long, and it was apparent that they had voted for him.

"...FRALNICK SILVERLOCK! COME ON DOWN!" It was announced.

Fralnick let a fake smirk take shape on his face, the smirk then grew to a grin as he walked to the stage, and took his position. He looked across the crowd, the entirety of the District looked at him with a look that said Thank You, this made his grin even larger than he had intended. He knew then, that this was the right thing to do.

[Slenderman The CreepyPasta King]

"IN A LANDSLIDE VOTING, ANTHONY WILL BE GOING TO THE FIRST QUARTER QUELL OF THE HUNGER GAMES!!!" The town mayer said,"ONLY ONE PERSON DIDN'T VOTE FOR HIM AND THAT WAS HIS DAD!! SO ANTHONY COME ON DOWN!!!!!" Anthony did as the mayor asked. He told everyone to vote for him, 'thank god they listned' Anthony thought to himself. He had a better chance of winning the hunger games than anyone else here considering that he watched all of the games. Well, the games he was alive to see. As the mayor was about to announce the next name, Anthony yelled,"No, i'm going in alone! There is no reason why any family should risk their kid's lives unless their kids wanted to!" Everyone was stunned, nothing like that had ever happened before. It looked like they were waiting for the mayor to say something, but he too was shocked.

Because of what Anthony said, some news casters came rushing in, reporting on exactly what he said. Then broadcasted it all over Panem.

[Pratse]

---

THE PARKER BUILDING, THE CAPITOL OF PANEM - 6:00 AM

---

It was another one of those beautiful Capitol mornings. The sky was painted in such iridescent colors, and its hue varied so greatly, that it seemed as if the heavens themselves were artificial. High and proud cumulonimbus clouds floated gently over the Capitol skyline, painted in impossible red and pink colors by the rising Sun. The rest of the sky was a bright orange. A part of it, however, was still dark and black, and through occasional breaks in the clouds, the firmament and all its stars could be observed, watching the coming day with bright eyes. Even if the beautiful and otherworldly spectacle would be quite a sight for many of the Districts' inhabitants, it was an everyday part in a Capitol citizen's day. No one gave any particular regard to the heavens that morning, as was usual.

Hidden inside the impressive Capitol skyline, a small apartment was buried inside a forgotten apartment building. Inside the apartment lived a middle-class family, rich enough to own a good house but not rich enough to afford other luxuries that were common to the better-off citizens of the Capitol. It belonged to Ricard Humboldt, an elite Gamemaker that had been a part of every Hunger Games up to date. Most of his taking part in the Games was not open to his opinion, much less dissent. Some of the more gruesome parts of the games just did not appeal to him - in fact, they were abhorrent to him. And watching people cheer on as a thirteen year old throw a stone at another, striking him in the head, was simply disturbing.

Ricard had not fought a war and lost half a leg to see the Hunger Games happen. The Capitol's way of doing things is inscribed in stone, and even the simple lack of cooperation would result in death. Fortunately, however, Ricard was honorably discharged from the armed forces after his injury, allowed to leave before completing the established term. Perhaps the only right the Capitol had ever done to him was this (but this always remained in his head, and he showed no sign of it while interacting with Pro-Capitol people). It was because of the discharge that he met Emily.

It was one of those parties that sprang all over the Capitol following the victory. It was a simple one, nevertheless - fashion has changed considerably in twenty-five years. He was twenty-three, and she was twenty-two, and they danced through the night. For the next twenty-five years, Emily was the only reason he did not shoot himself or jump from the balcony. With her, he was safe, and he knew he could tell her everything and anything, and she would agree. She was his therapist, but more importantly, his lover. And at night, he would have dreams about the war. The blood and gunfire sprouted around him in the bed. Even Emily would become a savage rebel, wielding a pole, and she would strike at him with it, bent on murder. The cries of men, corpses that seemed to be dead writhing in pain, and napalm falling from the skies, scalding men alive. And he would wake with a start. And she would comfort him.

But this day began two and a half decades after the war, and he woke healthily. Ricard stood up too quickly and fell back into the bed, waking Emily next to him. What day is it? Oh right. Big day. Even before she finished rubbing her eyes and yawning, he had already dressed in an elegant grey suit and a dark tie. He smiled when he saw her finish, knowing very well that she would be surprised of just how fast he had finished getting ready. His elegant beard moved around his face as he smiled, giving it a very handsome appearance. She blinked twice before checking the bed next to her. Had he slept with the suit on? Emily was not a morning person. Ricard walked towards her, gave her a kiss, and walked away, closing the door behind him. No words were needed. Such a process had happened already seventeen times, and she knew very well of her husband's craft and its duties. She fell back into bed and slept some more.

The Capitol's transportation system was a Godly thing indeed. Ricard had only to take three high-speed trains in order to reach his destination, an adventure that took no more than five minutes, spanning a distance of several kilometers. Even better, it was free. He walked away from the stop, and in twenty paces he stood before the massive complex that was the Headquarters of those in charge of preparing the annual Games. He was quick to walk in and take the elevator to the room where the Gamemakers would convene.

The delicious stench of new plastic hung around the air as all the Head Gamemakers in charge of the first Quarter Quell gathered in the luxurious building that was their office. It was the first time that year that they all gathered together. Most of them were old friends or foes, veterans of games long-ago passed. Their stern and intelligent eyes observed all that happened, hinting at the coldness of their hearts. They had survived and remained in their posts because they knew how to run the Games, how to appease the thirsty citizens of the Capitol with a mighty spectacle of arms and heroism. Nevertheless, some others were young and new to the system. Their blood boiled with excitement, traveling to their face and flushing their pristine cheeks in a bountiful scarlet color.

But now the Head Gamemaker walked into the room. He could be seen as the merger of the two groups, neither old enough to be cold and dead inside, and neither young enough so as to not know what he was doing. As he stepped inside, the chatter in the room screeched to a halt, and men and women took their seat as the Head Gamemaker walked in. After being seated for about two seconds, the Head Gamemaker stood up and began intoning in a loud, clear voice:

"Ladies and gentlemen" he began. He went straight to the point. "Much is expected of us for the following months, and, given this being the first ever Quarter Quell in the History of the Hunger Games - in the history of Panem - I expect that each and every person sitting today in this room will do exactly what is expected of him or her, and nothing short of that. It is imperative that we give the citizens of the Capitol a show they will remember. If we do not accomplish such a task successfully, then it is probable that our esteemed friend the President will have our hea- will fire us from our posts. Now, on to the first matter that must be discussed. Let's figure out what we'll have in the damned arena."

[Joshulia]

District 5
Ezekiel Novak

---

"-THE 25TH HUNGER GAMES!! May the odds, be EVER in your favor."

The sound of applause and cheering filled small, third floor apartment, contrasting the deadly silent group of five children within. The light of the television cast a dim glow over the dark room, and the children whom sat across from it, packing onto an old couch. The kids themselves were a motley bunch, ranging in height, skin tone, and eye color, but it was clear that they were siblings in that each one shared at least one trait with another. An example would be the shared white hair color of the eldest, Ezekiel, and the youngest, and only girl, Anna.

A thousand and one thoughts raced through Ezekiel's head, ranging from outrage at the capital's sick game, to plans on how to avoid being selected. His family lived in the capital city of 5, a packed and grimy place where everyone knew everyone, this prompted the question, who would he vote for? He wouldn't do the stupidly noble thing and vote for himself or his kin, no, he would vote for someone who actually knew what they were doing. Despite himself, he couldn't help but feel slightly happy over the rule change. With it, it didn't matter how many times his name was already entered, and he was confident that the others of his district wouldn't vote him in as many of them knew his parents and of their death.

The boy stood, taking the remote with him, and flicked the switch, turning the projection off. Ezekiel then turned to his siblings, "Alright guys," he said in a tired voice, "time for bed."

Three of the four stood slowly and moved off the their respective cots in the adjacent room, leaving the eldest and his younger brother, Michael, alone. "What the hell?" His fifteen year old sibling asked angrily.

"What?" He asked in return, it was merely a formality as he knew his brother well enough to anticipate what the argument they were about to have would be over.

"We hear that shit and your response is to go to bed?" Michael was shorter than his older brother, but not by much, and was the only member of the family that didn't resemble Ezekiel at all, he sporting fair skin, dark hair, brown eyes, while Ezekiel possessed dark skin, white hair under a cap he wore, and black eyes.

"Do you really want to scare Gabriel and Balthazar? Or Anna?"

"No, but they have the right to know what exactly this all means!"

"No. They're too young and won't get reaped anyway, so why scare them?" Ezekiel walked a short ways to the door, grabbing a jacket along the way, saying, "Now come on."

"Where are we going?" The response came, confused.

"To vote."

---

The Next Morning
Reaping Ceremony

---

Tobias, wearing the suit of his father, stood in the middle of his brothers and sister, the youngest of which flanked him on either side. They watched solemnly as a blue haired man, who's eyebrows seemed to be leaping off his face, climbed the small set of stairs up onto marble steps of the court house.

The man was obviously out of his element the moment he took up the mike as it fell to the ground and rolled down a few steps before being caught and handed back to the announcer by a Peacekeeper. "Ahaha," he laughed weKly, as if trying to cover up his mistake, then quickly moved on, "welcome, one and all, to the Reaping of the 25th annual Hunger Games!"

He finished the sentence as if he expected them to cheer or clap, but when he was met with silence he coughed and continued, "Well, as you all know, this is an auspicious day, as it marks the first Quarter Quell Reaping, in which your population voted on who would be selected. Without any further adieu......" He trailed off as he plucked one of two small letters from a pocket on the front of his blue suit, and began to read.

"The male tribute from district five is..........Ezekiel Novak!"

The arm Ezekiel had placed on Gabriel's shoulder fell to his side limply as his name was called. The entirety of the square looked anywhere but his family and no one spoke for a few seconds, the silence was only broken by the whimpering of Anna who grabbed hold of his hand, tightly. He picked the girl up and handed her to Michael, who's face stayed as hard as rock throughout, suppressing his true feelings of saddened.

The boy from five slowly walked towards the stage, crowd parting before him as the Red Sea had. He reached the platform and turned around viewing the faces of those who voted for him to, basically, die.

[UED]

District 6
Titus Kenway

"-THE 25TH HUNGER GAMES!! May the odds, be EVER in your favor."

Titus was standing at the District center, watching the gigantic screen talk about why the hunger games were created and how this is was suppose to be an "entertaining" experience. Titus was desperate and angry, he wanted to live his life out, he didn't care if he lived in poverty for the rest of his life, he didn't mind that, what mattered to him was to just live and not die a painful death in the arena, he had seen the deaths, some were brutal, he didn't know what he would do with his life, but it would be far, far better than death. He was so desperate and selfish that he was hoping that someone from his family would volunteer for him if he were chosen, like his 17 year old sister or his 13 year old brother.

Then he heard "And the male tribute is.... Titus Kenway!"

He stared with shock, and said "No" quietly.

[Kannap]

District 4
The news of the reaping methods for this years games was surprising, and shocking, to say the least. The District seemed to take it well, as District 4 was one of the wealthier districts. They could vote somebody who had been training their entire lives for the games in with the great chance that they could win it.

Crystal lived on the coast of District 4, then again, wasn't it all coast? No, she supposed not. She knew that she would be one of the few names that people would consider voting for, since she had trained for the games her whole life. She looked at her chances of going into the games and smiled.

Later that evening, she went to place her vote. She saw many noticeable faces, and smiled and waved, but received none in return. Why would they smile or wave? How many votes had they gotten towards their names?

---

Reaping Ceremony
Crystal found one of her best, most expensive dresses to wear to the reaping ceremony. She stood among some of her wealthier friends in the District, the girls also wore amazing dresses and the guys wore their finest suits. The one thing about this group is, they either bought themselves out of the vote or they had trained their entire lives for the Hunger Games. To win one is a trophy of honor.

The mayor took his place at the podium on the stage. He smiled, though they could all tell it was not genuine, "Welcome, everyone, to the reaping of District 4 for the 25th Annual Hunger Games."

His last sentence was finished with despair as he knew his children were also possible names for the vote, "As you surely know by now, this day marks the first in what the Capitol calls the Quarter Quells. This year, for the games, the population of the District voted for who they thought should go into the Games. So, here we go."

A peacekeeper handed him what appeared to be two envelopes that most likely held the results for the voting. He opened the first one, and discovered it to be the male vote. He announced the male tribute and went on to open the second envelope.

"The female tribute for District four is, Crystal Shadersonme!"

Some of her female friends started to cry and grabbed her arms, others congratulated her and wished her the best of luck. She began her walk to the stage, the crowd parting, some with respect and some with none. She reached the stage and stood next to the Mayor and the male tribute.

[Great Nepal]

District 12
Four days before reaping
I sat in the fourth floor, my bedroom with warm piece of turkey and rice as the door swings open and there is my baby sister Angelina gasping for breath however before I have chance to ask anything she runs straight to my side and starts to sob. "Ange, what is wrong", I ask consolingly, putting lunch on the table beside my bed. She replies still sobbing "voting... this year..." as I warp my arm around her and run my finger through her long brown hair as I try to understand what she heard or saw. It is not until she says "quarter quell" that I finally remember. This is the twenty fifth year since my aunt died which means it is the year the capitol puts some disgusting twist to murder of twenty four kids and this year, being the first the capitol obviously decided to make the people vote for a tribute. Odds are no longer in our favour, I think as Angelina looks up saying "how are we supposed to choose one of our friends to die". I look back at her, slightly embarrassed that my first thought was how this increased the chance of me and Angelina being reaped rather than giving a moment's thought about choosing a friend to die, although to be fair I suppose I dont really have friends around district twelve to think about.

My dad appears in the door, face mixed with sorrow and anger as he looked towards Angelina shouting "how many times have I told you that you can't sneak into my office like that -" however I interrupt him defensively "you were discussing something that affects the two of us most. I think she had the right to find out". "I would have told the two of you but no one in Panem has right to information about anything. That includes the two of you. I was in meeting with other mayors and someone from the capitol; you know what would have happened if they saw her inside my office? They would have shot her and me". I stand up screaming "well, we are getting shot by that fucking agreement you just made with others mayors so sorry if I dont give a flying fuck" as I leave the room ignoring the television which just turned on and slamming the door.

Next thing I know, I am in the woods waist full of throwing knives and aiming my bow at a eagle. It is hard to bring one down but if you do, its meat is enough to last you for weeks. I narrow my eyes focusing on the target, take a deep breath concentrating on the neck as I release the arrow which makes it way through the air stabbing the bird right in its wind pipe as it comes down. Racing down few metres to find the bird, I pull out the arrow cleaning it to remove the blood and flesh; it is too precious to waste. I take the eagle walking back towards makeshift escape; something I created few years back when the electricity was abundant and head peacekeeper would turn on the electricity on the fence randomly, many times leaving people stranded on the wrong side of the fence. Luckily it didn't last after that peacekeeper died and a drunkard was appointed.

I sit down, taking out a knife to skin the bird and avoid thinking of the future as I see Angelina from side of my eyes and I ask "what are you doing here?" Sitting down beside me she answers "well it was either this or squad of peacekeepers and personally I am not ready to loose a brother yet". Taking a break from the eagle I look towards her stating matter-of-factly "well you need to be" but Angelina yells, something which I have never seen before "and then what? Remember dad during the early days, that was after losing a sister. Imagine what will happen to him if he looses you?" I return to the bird, cutting it and roasting it on fire speaking "he is the one who agreed to this crap, he will be fine".

"No he isn't, Sachindra and you know it!" she is shouting and despite my attempts to protest Angelina continues "You are blaming this on wrong person, it is Mitchell who planned this; he was the one who wrote down everything that would happen in the quarter quells the day these games were planned. It is Snow who is continuing these games. It is the capitol you should blame for watching these games, not dad". "I dont care, I am not coming back.", I reply standing up as I start to walk away from hideout and away from the fence but Angelina catches my arm stopping me "fine if you want to go, go but dont ruin the memorial for aunt tonight". "Fine", I state as that is one of the few people who I know I like, one of the few people who I can trust, one of the few people who I can respect. I stamp out the fire, leaving the bird on the plastic as I walk ahead of Angelina quietly.

That night, is a sorrow one as we remember the day Sunita was killed. An annual day where the respect for aunt is refreshed and hate of the capitol is increased. The proceedings of the day were fairly regular however we spend the night at our old home, it is much smaller than the mayor's residence however it brings memories.

Next morning, my plans of last day had washed away and instead it has been replaced with a determination; to keep my sister out of that damn arena. I wake up quite early in morning, bag full of coins, bread and cake as I make round throughout district. I knock on one of the seam houses, which is answered by a girl whose name for life of me I can not remember despite sharing class for years, rather hostilely she asks "so I guess once our voices count, this is how the privileged collaborators disturb us in the morning to beg for his life". I attempt to defend myself but seeing how I never bothered with other people I can not really do so instead I stop her closing the door getting to the point "no, I know I am going to that arena. I am here for my sister, she is young and she doesn't deserve to die. I will give you anything for not voting against Angelina". After some time; she finally agrees to write some one else's name on the card. In return I part with four loafs of bread and thirty coins. Rest of the day is quite similar, and by reception I get around the district only reinforces my comment that Angelina should be prepared to loose a brother.

Dad seems to have not missed the thousands of coins or quite a lot of bread, either that or he is pretending not to notice however that night I knock on his door, despite everything I did act wrongly the other day. As he turns around I say softly "sorry about yesterday, I just couldn't handle the news and flipped out. I know you were just following orders from capitol". He smiles as he answers "its fine son, just dont go running out like that again. I was worried about you". I walk into his office leaning into his arm as I say without thinking "dad tomorrow, if it happens I need you to be okay". Its obvious that he is trying to speak but I keep going "no dad, please dont interrupt me, Angelina needs a father who is not crazy. You can not do what you did when aunt was killed, or what I did yesterday. She is going to need a sane person around and that needs to be you."

Before he can reply, Angelina is outside the door looking inside with a suppressed laugh sarcastically remarking "surprised to see you here". "Shut up", I laugh causing her to do the same as dad looks towards both of us, confused and questioningly "I am missing something?" Instead of replying, I just laugh more and he stands up shaking his head in disapproval as he leaves the room saying something which doesn't quite register however what he says after the pause does "and Sachindra, I will do my best". That is not quite the same as what I wanted but, better than nothing I suppose.

As he left, I turned towards Angelina as I ask seriously "have you decided who to vote for", something which understandably puts an dampener on the situation. She pulls out the empty card given to everyone in district placing it on the console and I do the same, it was a reply in itself. After a lengthy pause she says "perhaps myself for the females" coldly, something which sends shivers down my spine "again shut up". She attempts to argue for that statement but I speak over her "I am not letting you go into that arena, ever". I want to tell her her to put my name for the the guys, that it is a certainty but I know that would be pointless as her suggesting to put her name forward so instead I go the other route "you know, maybe we are looking at this wrong. District 12 hasn't had a victor, instead of choosing someone we hate, how about voting for someone who actually has a chance of winning?"

"You dont win the Hunger Games, you survive them" voice interrupts me from the door and I turn around to look at dad and I reply "my mistake someone who actually has a chance of surviving the games". Angelina looks towards me questioning "who would that be?" "Firstly we can narrow down the list to those who go out of the fence, so those who we have encountered in the wild". Immediately she must have realised where I was going as she replied sarcastically "sure, so that is me for the girls". I reply trying to think of the names of girls in the school and one name kept bouncing around before I finally uttered "I saw this girl outside the fence, Wilhelmina", not that I wanted to; she had been someone who I liked but it was only name I knew "for the guys, I think there's only me", I continue after pause.

"Or, Timmy for guys. He goes out in the woods and is quite mean", she replies. I know Timmy, he is in my class and I can bet you anything that he doesn't go out in the woods. Granted he isn't nice person but he is too terrified of someone who speaks too loudly, so thought of him sneaking across the fence and committing capital crime is laughable to say the best. However his name seemed as good as any and I say "fair enough so, Wilhelmina and Timmy?" She nods and I scribble two names on the card.

The Square, District 12
Reaping
The reaping was at the midday like traditional, so from the five morning we had been in the outskirts of the district; hunting birds and wild animals silently. One last hurrah before being condemned by the popular vote to die. Few minutes after midday, I arrive at the booth with handing over my card as the attendant uses a needle to pierce the finger, taking a sample of blood saying "you are late!" and quick look towards the proceedings just went to conform this. The proceedings had already past the announcement of the games, treaty of treason and the special video from the capitol.

District twelve escort was handed the name as she spoke in that capitol ascent "for our own small gesture to celebrate the quarter quell; this year, first the boys!". Small boy, possibly from the capitol but certainly not from the district 12 judging from his blonde hair arrived wearing a full white suite handing her a sealed golden envelop. Breaking the seal of district twelve, she took out white paper announcing "with five out of eight thousand votes", my heart sank as she continued "Sachindra Kshetri!".

All the eyes in the crowd turned towards me, still not quite in the group as the camera focused on me. Taking a deep breath I smiled, walking up towards the stage as I looked at my dad, who had visible shock in his face however ignoring all this I walked up on the stage speaking confidently "thank you everyone who voted for me, rest assured that you have just voted for your victor of the first quarter quell!". Now was the important part, as I stood in the position waiting for the name of other tribute as the escort continued "and now for the females!" and another similarly dressed small girl with identical blonde hair walked behind me to hand her the envelop with district twelve seal...

[Themiclesia]

"24 years have passed since the inception of the Hunger Games -- 24 years of shock, horror, dismay, disappointment, grieving, and celebration, if any, for the 12 outlying districts in this nation, called the Accusative Bread (Panem). As usual, District 2 is the one that feels the pangs of love with its tributes; for residents in this district are polemic and belligerent, and it is their will that their tribute, a boy and a girl, between the ages 12 and 18, represent fully their culture, if it rightfully could be thus called. As such, the district prepares well its entrants in gymnasia.

"The ravages of the war that once torn this Accusative Bread are yet still evident from a simply stroll down the great streets in District 2. Because of the building materials used, debris are awfully reminding of the awful past. Those were indeed hard days. The Capitol stood alone, with only this district behind her. Ultimately, it may be that district's assistance that tipped the war's balance and made Athena look upon them favourably. Yet we must not fail to remember that this district is one that built its fame on stone, not on its successes in the Games.

"Righty-o, that's all for today's class. Good day, pupils."

Something smacked Aristophanes across his face, beautiful, clean, and respectable in District 2. Aristophanes was entirely indulged in the teacher's lecture. Mr. Varro was always one of Aristophanes' favourite teachers, and Aristophanes, the favourite student. He gave some thought to the Reaping of Hunger Games, which is three days from today. The vote had already been announced, and Aristophanes, being one of majority age already, ought to cast his ballot, for his favourite gladiator. In District 2, the tributes-hopeful trained in a great area called the Training Centre, which, unfortunately, is an illegal establishment under the terms of the Treaty.

Presently Aristophanes wandered into the grounds of the Training Centre, his eyes dark and mellow, like how his mind is. There were already great assemblies of people within the centre, housed in a massive, imposing, black building. The proceedings of this establishment is usually closed to public, but, because of the vote, the centre has been open to public, so that the people might be informed as to for whom ought they vote, to ensure a fifth successive District 2 victory. Apparently, the gymnasia have organized a public tournament, staging all training students against each other, in an elimination tournament. This is no news, as it is always done since the inception of the games, but this time, in public. By the time Aristophanes arrived, most of the tournament was done, leaving only the boy's semis and girls's quarters on the schedule.

One thing came up within Aristophanes' mind -- names. How, he thought, names defined everything. District 2 is a rather large district, and yet most people have Graeco-Roman names; he himself, Aristophanes, was named after the iconic figure of Attic Comedy, one of the great artistic talents of the classical world. And, despite the notions of egalitarianism in the classical world, District 2 is not egalitarian in any meaningful sense. Aristophanes was one of the Aristoi of the District 2 -- a sort of nobility, descended from those in positions of power that decided to help out the Capitol during the chaos of the Dark Days. Members of the Aristoi have the option (in practice) despite the draw, to participate or to abstain from the Games. The Aristoi are not hungry, and nor will they become hungry, and most training pupils are from the Polloi, the many, who are barely managing to get by through their meagre wages earned through backbreaking labour in the mines and quarries. There are 12 Aristoi families in District 2, and Aristophanes belonged to the Erechtheis; as such he, if drawn, could easily be subsumed by one of the trained tributes. Nevertheless, additional honour was to be gained if the winner is an Aristoi, so Aristoi trainers are not uncommon, but are by far the minority.

The remaining boys were called, respectively, Cicero Malon, Epictetus Leto, Xenophon, and Philo. These names slightly surprising for Aristophanes, as Xenophon and Philo are members of the Aristoi; Aristophanes is not personally known to these people, but he could tell that they were not children of the brutal masses that through numbers dominated the district.

"Aristophanes," one of the trainers said, "what wind blew you here?"

"Platon," Aristophanes replied, without paying much attention, "the east wind. I am here to have a look and hopefully decide the candidate for whom I shall vote."

"Oh Aristophanes," the trainer, who almost managed to partake in the games, "in such a case, choose Epictetus. He's awfully fierce, and you can't go wrong with picking someone who doesn't feel pity --"

"Platon," Aristophanes cut in, "let them prove themselves, will you?"

For the past 10 years, Aristophanes has never seen an Aristoi beat one of the Polloi in the finals, and it looks like the many will beat the few this year as well, as Xenophon and Philo are both put in defensive positions with the wooden swords that they're wielding. Aristoi always wanted to be different from the Polloi -- if the Polloi grasped their swords with two hands, then the Aristoi did so with one. This is not necessarily a disadvantage, but fighting with only one hand requires quick movements to counterweight the sheer power of two hands of the opponent, and Aristoi rarely bother to work on fitness as much as the Polloi, so Aristoi usually lose at this stage.

Very soon, Cicero ousted Xenophon, and Epictetus Philo. The final was down, then, to Cicero Malon and Epictetus Leto. Aristophanes went over to Cicero's support camp, and decided that he would vote for him. Cicero looked at his sole Aristoi supporter, and cast a curious glance. He spoke.

"Aristophanes," he said, wiping sweat from his forehead, "what an honour. Most of the Aristoi are gone, like Xenophon and Philo."

"Well, Cicero, my vote has to go to someone, you know."

Town square | Reaping day

Voting booths stand at the ready to hurl one boy and one girl into the arena of death. Aristophanes, without ceremony, entered one of them, and wrote "Malon" onto the ballot. Before the vote happened, Aristophanes paid a special visit to Cicero's house, a small, but clean building, housing Cicero and his parents. Cicero is not in a particularly financially sound state, but he got by.

"You know, Aristophanes," he once said, a few months ago, "despite my slight disadvantage, I think working in the quarries is a good thing. It helps me endure hardship, which surely will be the case if I enter the Games."

"Cicero," Aristophanes said, "I want to vote for you. Are your parents fine with this?"

"Oh, absolutely. The trainers say that the other districts are bound to send out the people they hate most. Either they send out a person whom they despise, who will receive no support, or they ostracize the village bully, who again, though feared, will receive no support. I will be the only one who will enjoy support when I am elected. It's my year, you know."

Cicero said so with a faint smile. Aristophanes looked into Cicero's bright, blue eyes with some admiration.

"Well, my dear Cicero, may the Odds be ever in your favour, then." Aristophanes concluded his brief visit, and left.

---

Aristophanes cast his ballot, written "Malon" in great majuscules, into the box.

Soon enough, the voting was done, and the ballots were emptied onto the speaker's booth, on which stood the escort, a certain Mr. Aristotle Musa. With the usual fare being done, the ballots started counting, and the results were given, real time, on the screen that stood above the podium. This is expected to be an unopposed election, as word of mouth, in Cicero's favour, spread like wildfire. District 2 will elect the best, against the worst of the others. This surely will be another victory for District 2.

"Malon," the escort started counting, and one dot appeared under Malon's name.

But things started going wrong very quickly. Much of the adult population was illiterate in District 2, for before the Dark Days this district was as abject and desolate as others. Votes for "Milon" and "Molen" and even "Melein" started appearing very rapidly.

Ultimately, "Melon" won by 43 votes against "Malon", 42 votes. Blame the illiteracy.

[Pratse]

---

THE DISTRICT 2 SQUARE, D2 - 10:00 AM

---

As was usual, the folk of District 2 of Panem had gathered around the Main Square, prepared for the reaping. As was usual, it was late in the morning, and the sun already shone brightly above the Square. The joyful escort was already on the stage, prancing about like a retarded deer. Thousands of eyes looked towards the stage with anger and frustration. Both of these things, again, were usual. What was unusual was the fact that this time, the citizens of the twelve Districts had been the ones who had elected the tributes who would partake in the Hunger Games. Good old Democracy in action.

As was usual, again, the female poll occurred first. The ballots were gathered, counted, and counted again. While the Capitol's people on the stage spend about ten hours checking that their results were correct, the people of District Two restlessly waited. That was the most torturous part. Waiting. And even if the name of the 'lucky winner' was already printed in a large screen behind the podium, the Capitol's dumbest people still counted.

When her name first popped up, Olympia Weatherfield assumed it was just the product of coincidence. Perhaps some enemy, or perhaps her own vote that she had cast against herself. She only began getting worried once another piece of paper with her name inscribed upon it appeared. Followed in short order by another. And even if in the end the results were still very close, she had still garnered a couple dozen votes. Once her name was announced, she reluctantly dragged her feet towards the stage and greeted the men there, waiting as if they planned to give her a medal or a diploma or something.

The circumstances behind her election were unclear, as they remain. She was not the best career material, herself, nor was she among the worse people in the district. Olympia certainly did not know that her being elected to be the unfortunate girl going to the Hunger Games was a planned conspiracy, one that sprouted from jealousy - the bane of most women living in or around Planet Earth. Yes, it was known that Cicero, the handsome blue-eyed lad that was every D2 girl's dream, had strong feelings towards her. And even if he often made advances to bring her closer to him, they often resulted in failure. Nothing that Cicero could not handle. He could try again tomorrow.

But the girls would not wait for tomorrow. Oblivious to the fact that after Olympia was gone they would eat each other to gain his favor, they formed an unlikely faction to promote her being voted into the Games. They would go around, claiming that "Miss Weatherfield would very much like your vote, sir." People would ask questions. "Miss Weatherfield does not seem to enjoy violence - in fact, she refrains from training at the Training Center." The answer? "Oh, she just does not want to humiliate anyone with her amazing skills." Some people would be quick to understand what was going on, and would walk away thinking "amazing my ass." Most, however, were magnanimous with the amount of trust placed on the aforementioned words, and they cast their votes for Olympia with happiness, believing that they had done her a great favor. Ignorance is bliss.

All of this, however, was ultimately meaningless, as the truth was never known. Most just thought that her being voted in was nothing more than the bastard product of destiny. And the same went for the male, Aristophanes. Who was smart enough to see that two of the more charming and nice people in the District, and also among the few Non-Careers, were being sent to probable death in the games? Who was sufficiently intelligent to see the dubious causes of the results? Nobody. And that's the problem. Two unlikely coincidences pooled for each of the candidates, and their result was their participation in the glorious, heroic, and immensely fun 25th Hunger Games.

[Themiclesia]

Reaping day | Town square

All eyes focus on Aristophanes now, just as the escort shouts, "Mr. Melon! Do we have a Mr. Melon?"

Slowly, the boy to Aristophanes' right started tugging his silken sleeve.

"Hey, Aristophanes, you're up," the nameless boy said.

But to Aristophanes there was another boy whom he just devastated, standing directly to his left. Cicero had the last name "Malon", meaning he was only one place up the alphabetical list for the 17-year-olds. It was with a great effort of the courage and the neck did Aristophanes turn his head to see the exploding Cicero; one could virtually see the smoke aspirating into the heavens.

A few days ago, Cicero said, "you know, this is my year."

Time seemed to freeze in place. With a dreadful unwillingness, Cicero's dreaded image came into his field of vision.

"I... Cicero... I..."

"Aristophanes, you... you... when you said you were going to get some votes for me, you really meant to grab a few for yourself, right!?"

"No, I swear I had advocated your candidature!"

"I know I should never have trusted an Aristoi," he said, with a demeanour of pure hatred on his face, "and, don't even think about explaining and apologizing for yourself!"

Cicero dived forth and caught Aristophanes by the neck with every ounce of power he has in his full body. Not expecting such a move in public, Aristophanes was surprised by this vile act of blinded vengeance. He fell backwards, hitting his head on the pavement, which temporarily put him out. But this comfort was not to last, as the boys in the section, the Polloi, on the one hand, tried to land a punch on Aristophanes, and the Aristoi, on the other hand, tried to pull Aristophanes from his certain death. While it looked bleak for Aristophanes' young quest for the crown of the Games, and the Aristoi quickly being pushed back in this battle for Aristophanes' body, and Xenophon trying desperately to shield Aristophanes's vulnerable from the masons' boots. Philo tried, as well, threw himself over Aristophanes; this attempt, however, quickly resulted in himself being literally threw away. Epictetus went for Aristophanes' windpipe with his hands in additional to Cicero's existing hands, but Aristophanes managed to kick upwards at Epictetus' vulnerable parts. Light was fading quick for Aristophanes, as Cicero, in his immaculate training could tell, and a wicked grin replaced the madness, as Aristophanes' movements became badly aimed and convulsive.

"Aristophanes," Cicero said clearly, but with a muted voice, "today, I shall die with you."

Ultimately, the peacekeepers managed to subdue the frenzied boys, and had Aristophanes lifted up onto the stage. Cicero's best shirt, and probably one of his few, was ripped largely open from his great exertion, and prematurely drenched in sweat. While disturbing, Cicero's actions showed full well how he was a better tribute than Aristophanes; his clothing, now in tatters, and his firm body, publicised, stood in direct contrast with Aristophanes' flimsy constitution. After that sort of vitality, and to an extent, manliness, the opposing section of girls swoon in District 2, and the back rows, the younger boys are left gawping in awe. Aristophanes knew quite full well what sort of an opportunity that, off Cicero, and what sort of an honour, off District 2, he had robbed. Cicero himself had said that it was a godsend in how unqualified the field will be, and how he has been preparing all his life for this moment, to become a victor, and to receive substance and fame like the Aristoi, to be able to escape his squalid poverty, to be able to afford opulent things for his handicapped father and slaving mother, and to be a favourite student in District 2. Now, Aristophanes has been instrumental, no, vital in destroying everything. Another crown that ought to belong to District 2, and above all, to Cicero himself, now is reopened for contention, with the entrance of a non-career such as Aristophanes.

The youth of the Polloi was boiling in resentment before the stage. The Hunger Games were the one and only way in which a youth of the masons' family could say to the Aristoi, "I am your equal." The Aristoi, on the one hand, have long been despised in private by the Polloi, as merely speculators who backed the right side during the rebellion; on the other hand, the Aristoi were relentless, working as a clique, in promoting the interest of the 12 families. And, now, Aristophanes had committed an abomination in robbing a Polloi youth his chance to become a man of substance and honour. Aristophanes, Xenophon, and Philo knew of the gravity of the issue in which our male tribute has involved himself; Cicero, Epictetus, and their compartriots (a term the Polloi denied the Aristoi) are out there to avenge their outrage and insult. Worst of all, Cicero was Olympia's private lover, and he has now, somehow, come between a boyfriend and a girlfriend -- an exceedingly unwise thing in District 2, wherein males from a young age are taught to be domineering, vengeful, and territorial.

"Ἀριστόφανε, αἱ μὲν θεοὶ σὲ ἀγέτω, οἱ δὲ θεοὶ φυλαττέτω, τῶν ἀρίστων χάριν." Solon said to Aristophanes. [Aristophanes, let the goddesses (of victory) guide you, and the gods protect you, for the sake of the Aristoi]

"Die Aristophanes!" Shouted Cicero and five or six other young people, causing the whole of the Polloi, including the outraged parents on the balconies, to erupt in their ancient disgust of the Aristoi.

Cicero had little to fear, as this is District 2. These peacekeepers are his friends, and, at the most, they will tell him off with a few severities. The peacekeeping corps were another route in which a good Polloi youth could hope to achieve a good income. Indeed, the vast majority of the Corps came from the Polloi, and the Aristoi are actually reverse-discriminated in the Corps, though the Capitol is more likely to appoint Aristoi officers. As Aristophanes predicted, Cicero isn't even arrested, but told to hold his peace and his place. He could still see Cicero's seething azure eyes.

Aristophanes was still dizzy with newly found breath and consciousness, when the escort raised his hand high above his head, with that of a lady whom he barely knew, but he still whispered, "Hi~"

[UED]

District 6
Titus Kenway

Titus got started to walk towards the platform slowly, he was nervous, and very sweaty. He looked around, everyone was staring at him, and he was almost in panic. He desperately hoped that someone would volunteer for him, but no-one was willing to sacrifice themselves for him, and he took heavy breaths. He didn't understand, why did it had to happen to him? He of all people, of the thousands of others... Why? He wasn't a bad person, he wasn't courageous and was selfish, yet that didn't necessarily mean he was bad. He was just an average person, why did this had to happen to him? And as he walked towards the platform he though he was walking towards certain death, and the first step away from home. He would return in a coffin...

He was soon on the platform, with the whole district viewing him, he took a big gulp, and sat on his seat. He stared at his fellow female tribute from district 6, she was 15 years old, just a year younger than him. They both knew they were dead before the games began.

[Pratse]

---

THE DISTRICT 2 SQUARE, D2 - 10:20 AM

---

The Peacekeepers brandished their batons and jumped into the fight. The black pieces of wood and plastic flew in the air and fell down on the two groups that were fighting. The Peacekeepers were the ones who fought the most efficiently, and it was only a matter of seconds before the fight was broken. The Peacekeepers formed a line between the two groups to separate them - the kids on one side continually tried to drive through them to continue their relentless aggression towards the other. And they were strong. It took about a dozen Peacekeepers to stop the fight, but now some twenty were needed to contain the aggressors. And Cicero looked more handsome than ever.

Cicero had often made advances towards Olympia in the past. He was the romantic prince type - he often brought flowers to her, but it was always one at a time. And the flower would be small and perfect, and it would have the distinct smell that belonged to it. Cicero would smile when he gave her the flower, and they would both lie in the grass, and have long, dreamy conversations. Cicero would always understand, and she would always understand him - from his assuring her that he would be back fine from the Games, and that he would afford a whole new life for them, to her passion for white roses. And they would love each other under the stars, with a bright future before them. They would be married upon Cicero's triumphant return from the Games, he said, and they would live a good and happy life in the pretty (but crowded) Victor's Village. She said, while smiling and tugging his arm, that they should wait until he came back. And Cicero would say the same thing the next day.

His flowing hair was loosely hanging around his face, accentuating his strong features. He was covered in a thin veil of dirt, and a small trickle of blood sprouted from his forehead, where a Peacekeeper's blunt weapon had found its mark. His open shirt revealed his ripped, well-defined body, basking under the light of the sun. He was steady now, as if most of his anger had been spent during the fight. But he looked on at Aristophanes, who was petty and foolish in comparison, be limply dragged up the ramp and greet the escort. He silently swore against the world - against the world, and against the Gods, and against Aristophanes. Mostly against Aristophanes.

All of this was revolting to Olympia. She despised violence in most forms. The products of this violence, however, were quite attractive. When the Peacemakers struck Cicero, she had wanted to run over to him and hug him, and shield him from damage. But now, watching Cicero so angry, so stern, so - so strong, caused a certain feeling to materialize in her head. Blood pulsated in her veins, and her defined hands contracted into fists, held close to her sides. Her eyes were bright as she observed Cicero. And she also swore - she swore against the world, and against the Gods, and against the Capitol. Mostly against the Capitol.

The escort cleared her throat as Aristophanes walked up the stairs, and she talked into the microphone:

"Ahem. Miss Weatherfield. Olympia Weatherfield. Could you come up here, darling?" she said in a mocking tone, as one talks to a child. Olympia realized that she had never even walked up the stage. Had the vote occurred in tandem? Her memory was cloudy, and she could not remember.

Olympia blinked twice, and one of her hands rubbed her eyes and cleared her hair from her face. Her right foot moved first, and then her left. She thought of walking towards Cicero to give him some manner of good-bye. Cicero was close to the way she would have to take to climb the platform. On the last moment, she decided that it was not the proper moment to do so - Cicero would come later to wish her good-bye once she had walked into the building that stood behind them. The escort smiled, as if she were completely and utterly oblivious to the drama that was unfolding.

Before she knew it, the escort had grasped her hand along with the thin hand of the other tribute, Aristophanes. From somewhere, she could've sworn she heard a faint whisper, and she looked to her side and saw him there, and realized it had been him.

"What?" she whispered back in a shaky voice.

[Themiclesia]

Aristophanes, on the other hand, found it difficult to believe what had happened just then.

"ἕν γράμμα. ἕν γράμμα. ἕν γράμμα! πῶς, τῶς ὑμεῖς βούλεσθε ἐμὲ τελευτάν;" [One letter, one letter, one letter! How, how do you want me to die?]

By now, the confusion in Aristophanes, redoubled by Cicero's justifiable rage, had turned into native wrath.

He ranted on, on the stage, but his voice was obscured by the chanting of "Die, Aristophanes," by the many.

"ὦ πάτερ, πατὴρ ἐμοῦ, μήτηρ, τἀδε ὄνομα δεδόκασι ἐμί. Ὀ Κικέρω, αἰςχρὸς δὴ σύ. σοῦ πατὴρ τε σοῦ μήτηρ καὶ δὴ σύ. οἱ ἀνάξιοι τοῦ βίου εἰσί." [Oh father, my father, my nother, you have given given me this name to me. Cicero, you are indeed shameful, your father and your mother, and, indeed you. They don't deserve to live.]

Of course, only the Aristoi could understand what Aristophanes had to say; only the privileged had leisure to study a foreign language, and an especially difficult one. In this way, he cursed Cicero and his family in his own wrath. The small part of each age section, to the far left, inhabited by the Aristoi youth, sighed as they heard this lament. Aristophanes had visited each and every one of them during the past few days, and pleaded Cicero's case to them, and, they, the Aristoi youth, had without fail written "Malon" in uniform majuscules in support of Aristophanes hopeful slayer.

εἰ γὰρ σύ δὲ νῦν σίγοιο, ὦ Ἀριστόφανε. [If only you'd be silent for a moment, Aristophanes.]

So Solon said, finally. Solon is Aristophanes' eldest brother, and he is standing on the balconies, having escaped the games. Further shouting was futile, and it is only Aristophanes' place to return victorious, or to die trying.

"σύ Σώλων! ἐμὲ σῶσον, οὐκ, ἐμὲ, νῦν ἐμί, σῶσαι! οἱ νῦν νεανίας τῶν πολλῶν, οἳ δὴ βάρβαροι, ἐμὲ βλάπτειν βούλονται! ὦ φίλη, Περίκλεις!" [You, Solon! Save me, no, save me, for me, for your own benefit! Now the young men of the Polloi, indeed barbarians, want to hurt me! Pericles, my friend!]

"εἰ δ' ἄγε!" Shouted Pericles. [Come on, Aristophanes!]

The fear began to set into Aristophanes. Years of practice, years of indoctrinated contempt for the Polloi, will not now save him from the worst nightmare; how strange, indeed it is, for him a nightmare, and for Cicero, a dream come true. Aristophanes was beginning to lose his grasp on reality, and he fell onto his knees, asking if anyone would volunteer for him. The insults, the admonitions that Cicero's gang pelted seem to fly through him, killing a little bit of him as they, one by one, ran through his body.

Silently, in response to silence, he added.

"ὦ μοῖρα, ὦ ἀνάγκη, εἰς τὸν οὐρανόν τε καί ἐκ ἐκείνας τῆς χώρας με ἄξετε." [Fate, force, you will lead me from this land into the skies.]

How innocent! How lamentable! Aristophanes! He faces a penalty for a crime that he did not commit.

How innocent! How lamentable! Cicero! He has the opportunity of a life time taken away from him!

But, amongst the angry minds of the Polloi and the unsettled minds of the Aristoi, there is one happy mind, belonging to Basileitimon, or better known as Aristophanes' fiancé. She hated Aristophanes, who always appeared aloof and unloving to her; that is not to say that Basileitimon had any feelings for Aristophanes in any event. It was a political union, not a personal union. Aristophanes was the third son of the leading family within the Echtheis, and the Echtheis leadership was desperate in trying to keep good terms with Basileitimon's clan, the Medion. Basileitimon lived with Aristophanes, as his fiancee, and often cried herself to sleep, to be married to a boy whose love for his ink and papers was more than ten times against what he had for her. There was once, when Basileitimon was held for ransom by one of Cicero's friends, and somehow Aristophanes appeared late, nearly killing her. The excuse?

"I had to meet my publisher for a drink."

But this situation was not specific to Aristophanes. His eldest brother, Solon, is unhappily married and dying for a divorce; his second eldest brother, Pericles, refuses to spend more than an hour per day with his wife. Aristophanes' older half-brother, Aristocles, had a brick wall built through his estate and bisecting the mansion, so that he needed not see his wife.

Aristophanes looked at Olympia. He is fully aware of his wretched shape, his patent shame, and how un-Aristoi he now looks. Nevertheless, he managed to put a weak grin onto his face, and a bright, black flame burnt through his eyes, examining his predicament, and looking for resources to help him. Such is the temperament of the most revered amongst the Aristoi youth -- in defeat, perseverance; in victory, revenge. His fit, though uncontainable, is now over; the quest for survival, is begun.

Aristophanes said, again, to Olympia, "Hi!"

[New North Aqmuland]

District 7: David Peterson
Reaping Day
As the female tribute took her place on the stage, David had a sinking feeling in his stomach. The growing number of eyes that were falling on him were a clue that things were about to get ugly. He didn't understand. Why him? He was just a quiet kid who didn't really know anyone that well. He supposed that was it. They didn't know him, so they got rid of him.

As the escort took her place in front of the microphone, David took a deep breath, blinked twice, and got ready to listen. She called out his name in that nasal tone that David had hated ever since he was a small child.

"And our male tribute is... David Peterson."

And it was then, as David began walking up to the stage, his footsteps the only sound in the entire square, that he knew his fate was sealed. He acknowledged his fellow tribute with a brief nod and a quick handshake before staring resolutely into the cameras, refusing to look at the people who he would forever know as his murderers.

[Slenderman The CreepyPasta King]

DISTRICT 1

The mayor finaly spoke up after what was about 10 minutes of shock and said, "Young man, you should know that that isn't how the reapings work. Now for the lucky girl tribute, and she is..... Stacy Bolver!" Stacy was a few years younger than Anthony was, at the age where you were qualified to be reaped. Her parents and friends cried. Anthony said to Stacy when she walked up,"Don't worry, it will be ok, i'll make sure to protect you." while also thinking,'wow, these game are geting more and more idiotic every year!'

[Sirlya]

District 11
Fralnick's Story

Fralnick looked over to the girl tribute. She had put on some sort of emotion for the Capitol but Fralnick didn't really care what her face was showing because deep down, he knew she felt true terror. He was scared for his own life. Now that the time had actually came, he was having doubts about his choice. I can't possibly win. It's near impossible for someone like me! He thought to himself. But there wasn't any backing out now, his fate had been sealed.

"May the odds be ever in your favor!" Fralnick snapped back into reality.

"Okay, you two follow me." Said the Mayor of District 11, Cleanthony Dustshout, with peacekeepers shoving Fralnick and the girl tribute into place behind him.

"Family and friends will be able to say their final goodbyes to you, after the given time is up you will be taken to the train and we will begin our trek to the Capitol so that you can participate in the glory that is The Hunger Games." Cleanthony said, his purple mustache bouncing up and dowing in sync with his upper lip. "Fralnick, this is your room" He said pointing to a room with no designation to signify that it was specifically for Fralnick, but still, Fralnick entered the room.

"Now, be sure that you-" Cleanthony said before Fralnick slammed the door in his face. Fralnick had never truly cared for what Mayor Dustshout ever said.

Fralick looked around the room, a bed, a dresser, a nightstand, and a mirror was all that room had contained. He sat down on the bed, feeling as if he was to be sick. He looked over to the dresser "Wonder if they got any clothes." He thought to himself as he got up and headed towards the dresser, but alas, when he tried to open a drawer it wouldn't open. "Of course." He said out loud.

*knock*knock*knock*

Fralnick turned to attention as his first guest arrived "Come in!" He proclaimed. The door opened, it was his mother.

"Mom.." He said, his eyes already tearing up.

"Nick.." She responded embracing him in another firm and loving hug, one like the night before.

The two hugged each other for a good while, all while letting all their emotions flow from their eyes.

"You better come home, you hear?" His mother asked.

"Mom, I promised you already." He answered her.

"I know, I just.. I don't want you to go.." She said restraining even more tears.

"Mom, I SWEAR. SWEAR. That I'll come home, and you won't ever have to worry again." He said taking her hand in his.

"Okay. Time's up!" Said the peacekeeper outside the room.

"I love you Mom." Fralnick said giving her one final hug.

"I love you more Fralnick" She said hugging him back.

As soon as his mother left, he went towards the peacekeeper, wiping tears from his eyes.

"Can I be taken to the train? I don't want any more visits." He told the peacekeeper.

"Right this way." The peacekeeper said, directing Fralnick to the traincar. "This will be your home for quite some time, so you best get comfortable." He said to the young tribute.

"Yes Sir." Fralnick said, sitting in a chair and relaxing, before falling asleep.

The peacekeeper left, along with a companion who's shift was up. "I bet that kid dies. First night." He said.

"Nah, I say second night." The other said.

Fralnick was already being doubted.

[The Grey Wolf]

District 12 Podium
At the podium, a tall brunette girl stood, arms crossed, before hearing her name proclaimed before the crowd. The tribute had no idea how she was supposed to feel. Anger, betrayal, worry. However, she couldn't blame the people of her District for voting her to participate in the Quarter Quell. Out of all of them, the large girl who had a knack for manual labor, had the best chance of winning. Wilhelmina supposed she couldn't fault them.

There was a shout as Mrs. Fox rushed towards her daughter, clutching her, kissing her on the head, begging for the Peacekeepers to show mercy. The woman's cheeks were soaked with salty tears, some of which dripped onto Wilhelmina. "I love you mom," she said, her voice loud and firm. "I won't stop fighting until I'm back home."

[Great Nepal]

University of Antonianum
09:00, Capitol
The sun rose high up in the skies; lights reflecting from the spectacular skyline of the capitol. brighting the ostentatious, flamboyant and garish apartment that stood proud in the innermost square mile of the capitol. Inside this apartment, isolated from the hustle and bustle of capitol Morgan was still tucked safely in bed; for her this was equivalent of midnight being a night owl and what not. Something was to however disturb this and that came in form of a loud ringing on the wall behind her. Morgan opened her eyes tapping the console behind speaking "straight to Morgan Shiboski. Who is this", still half asleep however the response vanished all sight of sleep from her as she exclaimed "you are kidding? I will be there in a minute" jumping out of bed as she went to get changed into something more... presentable.

She had been waiting for time with the committee for about a month but with the queue going for six months, she hadn't expected to be contacted by the university any time soon. Not that she was complaining in any way because this finally meant she stood a chance of getting that lifetime dream; getting involved in the quarter quell, reaping for which was due to start not more than a week from today. Racing up to the roof of the apartment, there was a hovercraft that she had called for for a ride to the university. Sure the trains were quite fast and with the underground system of transport in capitol, cars were not a bad option either but when time is of the essence, flying is the only way to get there.

Within two minute of the initial conversation, hovercraft landed on the back garden of the university and Morgan ran inside the university swinging the door open, only to slam into two peacekeepers who demanded an identity card; which she forgot in the rush to get to university. Just when it appeared she lost the once in lifetime opportunity her supervisor, Tristan Holst just passed through there carrying Stegostoma Fasciatum as he shouted "hey, she is fine". Two peacekeepers looked towards the professor nodding as she raced forward embracing Tristan as she yelled in excitement "thank you so much". He however stepped back, securing the glass saying more cautiously "careful, you dont want her on the loose do you" indicating the glass jar. Morgan looked towards the glass chuckling, "no, there might be some issues then" something that just made Tristan laugh as he commented "you mean it might put capitol on bio-hazard lock down?"

Morgan laughed, taking stress off her as she neared the auditorium where five committee members sat for the final viva. She took a deep breath, taking the glass jar looking towards Tristan nodding as she entered the hall. This was the literal final step for her and she presented the new mutation, Stegostoma Fasciatum and its genetic sequence. Exact words she used are still woozy and lasted for over two hours but the short version of it was that this mutation was alteration on genetic material of a squirrel. Squirrel, traditionally a nice fluffy cute animal however due to combination of cutting edge genetic resequencing it has been turned slightly dangerous. Not only was it carnivorous, but was capable of pursuing you both in land and water and once every day it would go completely berserker for an hour. However the committee were probably most impressed by a single squirrel tearing two monkeys and removing all trace of them in less than a minute. Either that or they were too terrified of Morgan releasing the murderous squirrel on them that they unequivocally accepted the thesis as presented.

As soon as she got out of the hall and handed over the murderous squirrel to Tristan, there was a call from office of president. Followed by congratulations she got the second good news of the day, in light of her doctorate she was officially approved as new gamemaker for twenty fifth hunger games. Only thing that was left now was to party for a week until the day of gamemaker meeting.

Gamemaker's office
Reaping day
This was the day, the day that Morgan had been dreaming of since she could remember. The day that she was told to report to gamemaker's office. The day that she got the identity pass allowing her access to that glass room. In fact that night, she skipped sleep altogether instead of risking being late. Perhaps too much seeing she got there at six in the morning, and the peacekeepers were under instructions to not open the building until nine. Never the less, several cups of coffee and small packets of methamphetamines latter, the door was opened and she got her first sight at the glass room, a place from where the games were designed and controlled.

As other gamemakers entered, followed finally by the head gamemaker, one thought entered her mind; they were quite old or atleast in her mind they were as old as an oak tree. As she took a seat and finished head gamemaker speak, she finally spoke "this being the first quarter quell, I would like to suggest we scrap everything we have established so far and reconfigure the arena in its entirety. Not only will it give something new for the audience but it will mean tributes who think they know what they are up against are in for a shock".
(ooc: Sachindra's good byes etc comping up tomorrow)

[Russian people of america]

Alexander walked into his room on the second floor of the house. He had eaten breakfest and turned on his T.V. to watch the reapings.First he watched his old friend, the president announce that the districts had to vote for a tribute, that must suck he thought. He remembered the first games 24 years ago. He had sponsored two tributes called, maddy and buzz. He had favored maddy and her ally sunita more because buzz had taken the cornicopia and had supply's. Maddy had won the games and made him a little richer, he see's her in the games once in a while since she is a mentor though. He smiled at his memories, those were good times he thought. As he watched the reapings he couldn't pick out an underdog or an obvious choice, although he chose maddy and buzz based of their preformances in training. He decided to choose a tribute later in the games.

[Great Nepal]

Justice building, District 12
Sachindra breath sigh of relief for a moment as name of his district partner was pronounced and his eyes found that of Angelina, knowing her sister was safe brought an unintentional brief moment of smile to his face until the capitol attendant stepped forward speaking "congratulations to the first ever tributes for the first quarter quell, district twelve must really love you two". It wasn't until they shook hands as per tradition that something hit him, that Wilhelmina was the person he voted for. That she was the person he had selected to die and that she was the person going into the arena with him. Suddenly relief was replaced with regret however before he could do anything he was being dragged to justice building by two peacekeepers for final goodbyes.

As the door shut behind him, Sachindra sat down in the chair holding his face with two arms as he thought about something he had avoided since the day he heard about the news of quarter quell; what was ahead of him. He was going to have to see the experiences he had only heard about from his father so far but never truly seen, in fact he was going to have to live them and he had condemned an innocent girl to that arena. However the door opened to interrupt his mulling and in was Angelina walking ferociously as he stood up however she had something else on mind stating "I know what you did" as the door slammed behind her. "What", questioned Sachindra attempting to appear ignorant of what she was talking about but when that visibly didn't work "fine, yes I tried to persuade people to not vote for you. I am your brother and that is part of my job -", Sachindra continued owning up. "We agreed not to do this any more", interrupted Angelina and it was true since about a years ago when the peacekeeper caught Angelina after she tried to distract them from a turkey he was sneaking into the fence and he got shot for trying to stop flogging from peacekeepers. It was only intervention from Ranjit as mayor that saved the day back them. "Yes so I made an exception cos I will do everything to avoid you getting in that hell hole" while she tried to speak, Sachindra continued slightly raising his voice "and dont try to pretend you didn't do exactly same thing. I noticed that missing five hundred, its just that people here like you".

Angelina looked around attempting for some kind of excuse until she finally broke down embracing her brother as she said "I dont want you to go" sobbing and Sachindra tightened his arm around her attempting to console her "its fine, dont worry I will be back before you know it" and attempting to hide the waters appearing in his own eyes. Angelina looked up to her brother's face saying "promise me that you will come back" who smiled saying "promise; you will be at the train station when I come back right". Angelina chuckled resting her head on his shoulders as she said "that's a promise". Sachindra smiled wrapping his arm protectively around his sister as they sat in the bench for some time in silence before she finally broke the silence "you know, there's still time to do that" looking towards Sachindra and you could tell the environment in the room had suddenly gone more serious as he looked towards his sister saying "no, its too risky. They will chase after a tribute more than they would for a district citizen, we would never get anywhere without capitol hovercraft on the tail. Plus you need to take care of dad, speaking of which where is he?"

Angelina hesitated initially however after some prompting, she finally announced "he lost it -" and that was as far as he needed to hear as he stood up swinging open the door to shock of both peacekeepers as they tried to stop him however Sachindra simply stated coldly "I need to see my dad" and predictably one of the peacekeepers offered the recited answer that he couldn't leave except for the train. You could see in face of Angelina that it was the wrong answer and she moved forward to stop her brother but it was too late as he punched both peacekeepers, kneeing the first one's visor in while breaking another visor with a swift punch. He took off, running straight for mayoral mansion where he practically knocked down the door to shock of the peacekeepers completely unprepared for his appearance. Before they could react however, he had burst into office of his father closely followed by Angelina where Ranjit sat scribbling nonsense across the wall and floor. Ignoring both Angelina, Sachindra launched forward shaking Ranjit "dad, Ranjit, wake up! just damn get over it!" when it failed to elicit a response Sachindra slapped him temporarily getting his attention as Ranjit spoke "son, remember -" however before speaking anything else he went back to scribbling on the floor. Finally getting tired, Sachindra went to the sink filling it up with cold water pouring it on his dad and ruining his work, causing apparent outrage however by now quite a large group of peacekeepers had arrived on the door to take Sachindra back to the justice building. As they moved forward, trying to put struggling Sachindra under custody and Angelina fought back against the peacekeepers getting a baton to the leg.

However the involuntary cry of help given by Angelina as the baton struck was enough to bring Ranjit back to consciousness, perhaps temporarily or hopefully permanently as he stood up from drooling in his work walking towards the peacekeeper who used the baton as he yelled "you do not touch her" pulling Angelina behind him as he looked towards Sachindra, pulling him behind "and that is my son, put a hand on either of them and I will personally execute you". Same peacekeeper who used the baton spoke hesitantly "mayor sir, Sachindra committed assault on a peace-" however he was interrupted by mayor who pulled out his gun given to him by the capitol upon ascension into power, one he hoped to never use as it took first life; stamping the brains of peacekeeper in the wall before Ranjit continued nodding at the dead peacekeeper "write that up as execution for insubordination". Despite having their visors on you could experience that there was shock going around the peacekeepers from recent developments but Ranjit continued ignoring mood of peacekeepers "Sachindra will be staying here, I personally guarantee his arrival at train station on time" pausing for a second before questioning "any objections" however his right hand at the gun clearly indicated that wasn't an option. Peacekeepers saluted as they cleared the room, leaving their dead colleague... well dead.

You could see shock in face of both siblings as they looked at each other, never having seen their father this angry and certainly never seen him kill anyone. After some awkward moment, Sachindra burst out laughing as he hugged Ranjit "dad, sorry for that. I love you" followed by Angelina who also embraced him saying "thank you for that" looking towards the peacekeeper. Ranjit looked towards Sachindra as he said "I told you I wouldn't loose it, I am just fine. Now you promise me you will do everything you can to get back". Sachindra smiled nodding while Angelina spoke "he already promised me that he will come back and I am holding him to that". This could be the final time when the family was together and they all intended to enjoy it for an hour that it could last.

After an hour at most, there was a knock on the door and a peacekeeper in more armoured uniform appeared saying "mayor sir, it is time". Ranjit stood up nodding as two siblings stood up and before Sachindra walked towards peacekeeper Angelina ran towards him, holding in in tight clasp until the peacekeeper cleared his throat when he pulled back to see sisters tear filled eyes, wiping them away he insisted "dont cry please, its fine as I promised I will be back before you know it". Putting on a brave face and smile she unhinged the necklace with pendant from her neck, the one that used to belong to Sunita and before that their Shrawan, putting it around Sachindra's neck as she said "Sach, be careful".

Sachindra leaned forward, kissing her on the forehead as he said "promise. You be careful around here too", as she nodded smiling as Sachindra was escorted towards the train by four peacekeepers, him walking two steps ahead of the peacekeepers.

[UED]

District 6

Titus was soon with his family and friends in the Justice building. He first met his best friends, who were saddened by the event. They hugged each other and said their good byes, and his friends expressed their hopes that he come back alive and that they were sure that they would help keep his family alive if anything were to happen to them. Titus trusted them, and soon they departed. Next came the heartbreaking separation with his family. His sister and mother cried while his younger brother was keeping his head down in grief. They made him promise to do anything to come back alive, and he promised he would do whatever it took to come back home.

What shocked him the most however was a girl who he barely knew that came to say goodbye to him.

She entered the room after his family, she was suppose to be the last to visit him.
"I came to say goodbye." she said
"Umm, thank you." replied Titus
She grabbed his hand and said
"Please promise me you'll come back home."
"To district 6? Well, I'll try but to be honest I think I'm a dead man."
"Will there be anything to help you be inspired to fight on?"
"Not really"
She handed him a locket, and gave him a light kiss on the cheek, and left...

Titus though "At least that put some pressure off, and smiled. Maybe this would make him feel better, made him inspired to do anything. Anything to go back home..

[Galnius]

Reaping Day, Lisa Lanosios

As the Head Gamemaker calmly entered, the air seemed to be sucked out of the air in the glass room. Once a beautiful, young, ambitious woman, Lisa Lanosios had become deadly, harsh, and purely intimidating. She prided herself with being the first Head Gamemaker, and continuing with that career. She had outlasted three presidents, one of them dying of age. Now, she was here, for the 25th, and her final, Hunger Games. The silence among the lesser gamemakers was deafening. One of them could fall over dead, and Lisa was positive that she would still have the others full attention. The old gamemakers that had been with her knew better than to cross her. The new ones, well, they would either learn or never return. She spoke, cutting a silence so thick it seemed to be permanent. "Now, today is a big day for the Capitol. Most would give there lives to be where you are right now. Here, with me, at the control room of the 25th Hunger Games. After those District Residents have been sent to hell by their neighbors, it's our job to make sure only one comes out, and none come out unscathed. When they enter their nightmare, we are here to assure them that they pay for their parents, grandparents, and others sins against our great nation. Some of you may feel sympathy for them. I'm here to tell you to forget such pointless notions. You're here to obey, not think. You obey your elders, they obey me, and I obey our president. DO I MAKE MYSELF CLEAR!"

University of Antonianum
[b]Gamemaker's office
Reaping day
This was the day, the day that Morgan had been dreaming of since she could remember. The day that she was told to report to gamemaker's office. The day that she got the identity pass allowing her access to that glass room. In fact that night, she skipped sleep altogether instead of risking being late. Perhaps too much seeing she got there at six in the morning, and the peacekeepers were under instructions to not open the building until nine. Never the less, several cups of coffee and small packets of methamphetamines latter, the door was opened and she got her first sight at the glass room, a place from where the games were designed and controlled.

As other gamemakers entered, followed finally by the head gamemaker, one thought entered her mind; they were quite old or atleast in her mind they were as old as an oak tree. As she took a seat and finished head gamemaker speak, she finally spoke "this being the first quarter quell, I would like to suggest we scrap everything we have established so far and reconfigure the arena in its entirety. Not only will it give something new for the audience but it will mean tributes who think they know what they are up against are in for a shock".

Lisa turned and walked toward Morgan. the only sound heard was her shoes clicking on the marble floor. "And I'm assuming you have an idea for this?" Lisa asked, not angrily, but still with sharpness in her voice.

[New North Aqmuland]

District 7: David Peterson
The Goodbyes

David waited on a chair in the room. A Peacekeeper entered. David looked up.

"You've got five minutes, kid."

First to come were David's parents. His mom cried a bit and fussed over him, before his dad simply hugged David, unable to speak, bearing the weight that had just been placed on his shoulders. Then, David's friends came, the few of them that existed. There were a lot of manly tears and bro-hugs all around, as the boys knew deep down that David was more than likely not coming home.

Lastly, a girl entered the room. David knew her well, as he had had a crush on her for years now.

She spoke first. "That sucked, didn't it."

"Yeah. Nothing I can do about it, though."

"Listen, I know-"

And a Peacekeeper poked his head in. "Two minutes."

"-that you're probably not going to come back."

"I know too."

"David, you have to understand. Not all of us wanted you in there. Just the people who don't want an outsider being there to remind them of how they are imperfect as well, in that they aren't friends with everyone..."

"... My point is that I care about you. We care about you."

"Really?"

"Yeah. So, come home to us, okay?"

"I-I'll do my best."

"Good." And with that, Erica quickly pecked David on the lips and left the room just as the Peacekeeper came in, signaling the end of the visitation time.

David was angry. He now had a cause, and be damned if he wasn't going to give everything he had to fulfill that cause, the burning want that now existed inside of him. He was no longer an outcast from the forests of 7. He was going to be the tribute that no one would ever forget.