~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ RobotsWillCry

The view from the balcony is spectacular. Night in the Capitol always is. Id know. Ive been in Eleven, where the sun drops below the horizon in seconds, taking all the heat with it. Ive been in Eight, where the hovering smog turns the sunset a sickly orange colour and machinery chunters on through the night. Ive been in Two, where the mountains are so high that half of the district is swaddled in darkness even when the sun is up and where the wind whips the breath from you and the darkness is bitterly cold. None of it compares to the Capitol at night. In the Capitol, night is never dark or silent. Night is an endless parade of coloured lights, a catwalk of people in a dazzling array of clothes, music beating from the nearest club. Night in the Capitol is alive. And never more so than tonight. Tonight, everybody who is anybody is outside, laughing and mingling under the fairy lights. I know the mountains are there, looming on the horizon, but theyre invisible. Cameras swish over the esplanade, manned by men in shelled suits that look much more uncomfortable than my uniform, filming for the benefit of those too ill to leave the house. The screens are up and they play the reapings over and over again. Tiny little ant-like people point and grin, cheering when their favourites come up. There are no individual faces from this high. Tonight I rise above the noise. Thats all it is, just noise. Sound. Tonight I see the Capitol as the President sees it. How many jobs let you do that? There are two of us flanking the balcony, one at each end like gargoyles. Neither of us have done anything close to our twenty years of service, but they want youth on show. The cream of this years crop. Both of us received a Capitol Honors for Exceptional Service this year and this is the reward. My Honors came in Three. An explosion, of course; always is there. Some Capitol representatives were on inspection at one of the factories and the whole thing went up in flames. I got them out my suit is fireproof, its not as brave as it s ounds and managed to get half the workforce safe too. Not from the whip, later, but alive. Dead men dont work. This is work. I cant forget that. From here you can scan the crowd and spot the patterns, the shifts that might mean trouble. Scope the rooftops for snipers with one hand on my gun. Its merely precautionary, but you never know. But even though its work, its a reward of a sort, and my companion and I have our helmets off. Shes about my age but we werent in training together, which means one thing. Shes from Two. She looks it. Dark hair, very straight. Narrow face. Grey eyes. By Capitol standards, shes nothing special. She could do with a bit of collagen in the lips and cheeks. But Ive been to Two and by their standards, shes striking. She stands perfectly straight, surveying the crowd even though theres no sign of trouble. The excitement drifts up from below, loosening my tongue. The voice in my ear said five minutes not so long ago, and the people underneath are too far down to see that were talking as long as were sneaky. What are your Honors for? She glances at me, not turning away from the ready stance. Saved another Peacekeeper from a lunatic with a trident. He was an idiot but a good shot. Just not very prepared. She doesnt ask about mine. On the screen theyre showing the District Two reaping, the mentor mounting the stage to give a speech, and her eyes are fixed on it. Instinct says she knows him. We stand in silence for a moment, watching as the two tributes are shown. My c ompanions attention doesnt waver, but discipline was always my worst aspect and it isnt often we get to make friends. So I try again. What do you think of them? Good. Very good. Potential winners? The odds are in their favour. You watch the odds? Stay on top. Nose to the ground. All that stuff, I say. She gives a quick flash of a smile at the old training mantras before turning back to the screen. District Three. Ive seen this four times already. The young boy with the hair just asking for a serum treatment and the girl with the odd face. Not ugly, just odd. The sort of face that stylists would say has character, makes her stand out. In the Capitol shed probably be a model. When were you in Four? I press. I was there on a two month posting b efore I was in Three and liked it. Four is relaxed, as far as districts go, and the sunset over the sea is something very few Capitol people can say theyve ever seen for real. I even got to meet Finnick Odair, though only in

passing and only through my mask. Though I suppose that was lucky, because as shameful as it is, I blushed. Three month stint just after last Games. Their two dont look up to much this year. Theyre on screen right now. The boy looks terrified but the girl looks like she could be a favourite. Instinct, again. But my companion clearly isnt impressed. After a few moments in which the fairy below us change to a vivid pink, she continues, The ones to watch: Careers. Marvel, Glimmer, Cato, Clove. Finch. Savannah and Flynn. Thresh, Rue. Katniss. You have a good memory. I try not to sound too impressed. We have to have a decent memory, but knowing all those names after less than a day is exceptional. I can only just remember all the tributes faces and the important odds. Boy from Two, 3/1. Highest odds. Girl from Eleven, 21/1. Lowest odds. I know. Head Peacekeeper Chastes voice snaps through the earplug, crisp and clear as if he was standing right next to me. Milena, Havelock. Helmets on. One minute to showtime. All Peacekeepers on Victory Road to assume ceremonial stance. Theres no arguing with a voice like that. I snap my helmet down over my head and despite the grates for my ears, my hearing is muffled. My view, however, is unrestricted. I can still see the sparkling lights and the colourful crowd, the buildings glowing with life. I can still feel the anticipation. Havelock, my companion says. As in? As in the Gamemaker, yes. Now were in full uniform, both of us look just like your standard Peacekeepers on duty, apart from the little Capitol Honors badges stuck to our arms. Down on Victory Road, two lines of our colleagues have appeared out of nowhere and stand, one arm across the chest-plate, the other poised by the gun. The crowd presses between them, faces turning to the balcony. Spotlights are pointing as us. The suit is hot, much too hot; it wasnt made for being the centre of attention. But the Capitol people arent looking at us. Theyre watching the door. Havelock what? asks my companion. I can hardly hear her over the whistles and cheers and I expect Head Peacekeeper Chastes voice snapping back into my eardrums at any moment, but its been a long time since I got to say I made a friend. Nobody can see my mouth, anyway. Cordelia Havelock. Eyes forwards, back straight. Its automatic by now. Look for dangers: there are none. You? Milena. Portia. Here he comes. How she can tell this I dont know, but shes right. Behind us, theres the whooshing sound of the doors being flung open. Footsteps, strong and important. I risk a peek out of the corner of my visor, my first up-close look at the President. Hes exactly as he looks on screens, only bigger. And the screens dont capture his presence. Its like Head Peacekeeper Chastes, only stronger. The Head Peacekeeper can silence a room just by walking into it. President Snow silences an entire city. After the noise, the sudden silence is deafening. There are two girls with him, but I pay them no attention. The new advisors, probably. Theyre not part of my job description today. One of them fidgets. Ladies and gentlemen of the Capitol, President Snow begins, and his voice is soft and gravelly at the same time, and so compelling you cant help but listen. We are here, each and every one of us, every man, woman and child, thanks to the bravery of our forefathers. Their resolute defence in the face of adversity and conflict. Their courage. Their power. Every year we honour that power. Every year we exact a little more revenge on those who made them suffer. Every year we demonstrate the power of the Capitol, so we shall never have to suffer as they did. Ladies and gentlemen. Tonight is a grand night. Tomorrow will be more so. Tomorrow I make my big address, when the tributes are before us. For now, I urge you to enjoy the festivities and will keep you from the betting shops, who I dont doubt are eager to take your money, no longer. This is the seventy fourth year of the glorious reign of the Capitol as we know it. Let the Seventy Fourth Hunger Games begin! And the noise nearly knocks me backwards.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Clove_Thenardier It is a peculiar process in which one becomes immune to atrocity. The citizens of my home city have certainly undergone this. How else could they cheer as they watch children slaughter one another?

In a rather ironic twist, it is only the president himself whom I am certain knows the full evil of the yearly occurrences. Of course, he also happens to be the only citizen capable of putting an end to the Games. Somewhere in my heart I do despise him so, but I find it is best for myself if I put any emotions of loathing I feel for those I am assigned to serve aside. For tonight this means putting aside my feelings towards the president. It will be easier tomorrow. I will be assigned to one of the female tributes to serve for the remainder of the week. Most of them are even younger than I am. I doubt I will have to fight the urge to hate one, especially since the odds are likely the poor girl I serve will die within three weeks of our first meeting. A woman with hair that resembles the size, shape and shade of cotton candy taps me on the arm. She hands me a glass. Refill this with wine, She orders. I do not bother acknowledging her request. Instead I merely do as she commands and give the full glass back to her. The Capital citizens prefer that anyway. Ladies and gentleman, The presidents words ring out through the party and summon all attention to him with the least of efforts, welcome to the opening of the 74th Hunger Games! An intoxicated man knocks over a row of glasses. Clean that up! He snaps at me, before sauntering off to listen to the presidents speech. I bend down to pick up the broken glass. The president begins, Today is the start of a brand new Games. The seventy fourth annual Hunger Games serves as a reminder of the rebels defeat nearly a century ago and above all else, that the Capital is always victorious. I almost frown. I have heard his post reaping speech previously. It is almost always the same, with a few subtle changes each year. But in the two sentences he has said, he has already gone in a different direction than before. I suppose it is none of my business. I throw the broken glass away and start to wipe up the spilled wine. But I cannot help but be curious. The president goes on. The Games are our past. They are our present. They are our future. They are our doom, I add mentally. The new Head Gamemakers, Kieli Steel and Selene Flint, will take this as their new motto in running these Games. Is that a threat? I finish cleaning the mess. Another woman, dressed in attire remarkably similar to a peacocks plumage, whispers in my ear. Get me another tray of those yellow chicken meat things, She says. It irritates me so when the Capital citizens fail to adequately communicate what it is they desire me to get or do. At least this time I have an instinct as to what meat the peacock woman is referring to. Two tributes, twenty four in all, are on their way from each of the twelve districts of Panem. When they arrive, they shall be prepared for all the Hunger Games may hold. After one week, they will enter and remain in an arena until one lone victor remains. Perhaps I am insane, but President Snow appeared to put a special emphasis on the words one lone victor. This is puzzling. Why would he need to emphasize that? The Games have always had one lone victor.

Aeneas hated this fact. I remember one day when I asked him about his particular hatred of it, he answered, If there were four victors, three, or even just two, then there could be permanent alliances. The tributes could hope, maybe my allies will survive as well as myself. The districts could think, maybe both of our children can survive this year. But they cant. To survive the arena, every single other living creature must be dead. The Games dont just destroy peoples lives- they destroy their hopes. Well at least he is beyond being bothered by the Games now. I remind myself of the necessity of forgetting about Aeneas. He was before my Avox life. He is gone now. And I must only focus on my Avox life, if I wish to have any life at all. I get the tray of chicken the peacock woman asked for and deliver it to her. I should be grateful to the presidents speech. The distraction it has given the citizens has allowed me to escape punishment for my slowness. I have done well at forgetting. My family is a faint blur in my mind. My surname a jumble of meaningless letters. Now I only have two memories: of the boy I seek to forget, and the name I never want to lose. I have a stab of sympathy for the future bloodbath tributes, the ones whose names will go forgotten. All they will be to the celebratory people here is an empty face. Let us celebrate, Snow says, and let the Games begin! I want to remember all the names of all the tributes, just so that there is one person in the world who remembers them as more than an empty face. To, in my own miniscule way, rebel in the only way I dare. Aeneas would be proud, I think. A man looks at me. You there! He barks. Get me some more wine. I have a name, I think. My name is Lavinia. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ DawnXx
She thought that the peace of mind that came with volunteering for the games would grant them the serenity she had been oh so desperately seeking. But now, as she was surrounded by the sound of people gossiping and laughing, as well as the smell of extremely bad body odour and unique deodorant of her escort, it seemed that peace would be the last thing she would receive. Of course, for they would all, except one, be dead in just a few weeks. "Welcome, citizens, to the opening of the 74th Hunger Games!" called President Snow, as he stood on the balcony. People in colorful dresses stared the old men in awe. One woman with big, plastic birds in her hair and great, orange stains on her cheeks almost fell to her knees. The man standing next to her, with vibrant green hair and eyelashes, had to wrap an arm around her waist. "Each year the twelve districts of Panem would offer two tributes to compete in the Hunger Games. We salute your courage and your sacrifice, tributes. And we wish you Happy Hunger Games and may the odds be ever in your favor!" The crowd went wild. The citizens of the Capitol exploded in a mess of euphoria that could not be stopped even by the sound of a cannon. A few men and women started jumping up and down, clapping as if the greatest thing ever happened. It was just a speech. It was a speech announcing the death of twenty-three innocent children. And that was exactly what the sadistic citizens were so excited about. A little boy stood out from the rest, as he was silent. Not by disgust, but by fascination. He wanted to be just like President Snow when he grew up. That was his dream. To be rich and respected. Yes, respected. Because for years he was treated like he was dirt under an old man's shoe. The children

didn't play with him, even though he had a fake sword just like Dedalus. His parents gave it to him as a present. But the only one that wanted to play with him was his little sister. They would never know what hit them. Once he was chosen to be the next President, he would show them what he was really made of. Not that scrawny guy everyone loved making fun of. Not that loner that always sat alone outside because his parents were fighting again. He was already dreaming about how he would decorate his mansion. Those fountains would definitely be the first thing he would remove. Ever since Dedalus pushed him into the water and held him down for God knows how long, he had a certain fear of water. And there would only be green lights. That was his favorite color. It was the color of Laska's eyes. Pretty little Laska. She would go out with him once he was president. They would get married, too. She had no choice, because he would be president. They would have beautiful children with green eyes and a cute button nose. Maybe they would inherit his wobbly knees, or his messy hair. But that wouldn't matter. Because he would be president. And the children would play with them, too. His children would grow up happy, surrounded by money and luxurious items only he could afford. "Watch it, kid!" yelled a man, a furious look on his face. Apparently he had been so deep in thought that he didn't notice the older man bumping into his shoulder. He had a nasty sneer on his white painted face. His lips were colored black, probably to make his yellow teet h seem more white. It didnt help. "Sorry sir," he said through gritted teeth. Just you wait, he thought. Just a few more years. Bise! Mind your steps, will you? scolded his mother, shooting him a disappointed look. His father shook his head. Yes, mother, was his answer. What about them? he thought. Theyre obviously not going to live in the mansion with me and Laska. Eeh, well see then. In a few years, when Snow would retire, he would make the decisions around her. He would be the leader. The alpha. The President. Yes, he would be one of the rare individuals that would find serenity, and she would be one of the twenty-three that should be killed. At least, she hoped. Because he was a Capitol citizen, and she was just a tribute looking for the peace of mind.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ TemperedGM As I stand next to President Snow, I watch the people below swarm like bees. They're all itching at the fact the Reaping has now concluded, and tributes will soon be arriving in the Capitol for the Tribute Parade. I've never seen one in real life, so I can't wait for it. I've seen them on the television, but I specifically remember how this one will turn out. This year starts the rebellion. The rebellion I'm going to stop. President Snow steps forward, and raises his glass in the air. All eyes are on him. That's what I want one day. For people to watch my every move adoringly. "Welcome, citizens, to the opening of the 74th Hunger Games!" He announces clearly. "This year's tributes have been chosen, and I think we should go over them. So, from District One...Glimmer and Marvel. Both volunteers." I stare at the boy and girl from District One, remembering how they die. The boy with an arrow in his chest, and the girl being stung to death by tracker jackers. When we told President Snow about it, he laughed at the thought of the girl screaming whilst running around in circles. The crowd smiles at the pair, a few probably deciding to sponsor them already. Little do they know the pair from District Two is the one to watch. The President shows Cato and Clove's photos, and automatically the crowd goes wild. Noone needs to be told that these two are volunteers. The deadly grin on these two's faces proves that they're deadly enough to win these Games. And I'm sure

this time around, one of them will. "Next up we have District Three, Noah and Mailey. Will anyone be sponsoring them?" Snow asks. A silence falls over the crowd. "What I thought." He laughs, as does the crowd. "Moving on to District Four. We have yet another volunteer in this batch. Breck and Marina. Marina being the volunteer. She might not look like much, but she could win. Don't ever count anybody out, people." He smirks. "Coming from District Five, we have Eddie and Finch. Finch is quite the name, but neither of these tributes look like much. Not many from Five are. We can all agree they won't last a second in the arena." This time, even I laugh. The President must have forgotten that Finch made it to the Top Five tributes left in the Games. She used her brain to outsmart her opponents. Something rarely seen in the Games. "At the halfway mark is Jason and Tamora from District Six. Yawn. We will definitely see these two in the sky, am I right?" He questions the audience. The crowd smiles at his joke, and some even chuckle a little. Next is one of my favorites, District Seven. I love how angry the tributes from this place are. Hopefully these two tributes will give us some action, please view Ash and Willow. Both are sixteen years of age, so they shouldn't be too weak in the arena. Maybe one of them might even come out on top." "District Eight, textiles. That's the only use they have to us. It's certainly not bringing home victors. Flynn and Savannah will hopefully represent their home to the best of their ability, though. Coming up next, we have Rye and Demetria from District 9. These tributes are both fourteen years old, but look determined. I like them. I just hope they don't let me down. Next up we have Byron and Susan from District Ten. I'd love to sugarcoat it, but there's no other way to say this. Nobody likes District Ten, especially with the stylist they have." He says, and the whole crowd bursts out laughing. The laughing continues for a little too long, and President Snow claps his hands together. Sometimes I forget he's such a rude and demanding person. "Moving on..." He starts. "From District Eleven comes Thresh and Rue. Rue is a mere twelve years old, so I don't think we'll be seeing very much of her in these Games. However, Thresh looks like he could take people down. We just may have a victor from District Eleven people!" He shouts excitedly, but he soon loses his smile when the pictures of Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark pop up. "The pair of tributes from District Twelve...Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark. These two tributes may not look like much, but I believe they could go far. Too far. I don't need underdogs winning my Games people. Don't sponsor people out of pity." He says, his voice filled with hatred. With that, he turns away, and walks back into his mansion. Kieli and I follow him back inside. He seemed pretty angry at them, even though they are the face of rebellion. I can't have him going crazy in the middle of these Games. If he does, they'll fail. And we can't fail. These Games have to be a success. If not, my future will be more of a failure than it is now. My life will be over. Everything that is Selene Flint will become nothing. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ EverlarkForever_ I was both confused, but excited, by the presence of these two girls that I had just made Head Games Makers. They seemed so convincing in their story that it would be rude not to believe them and to not give them the chance at proving that they werent two crazy people who had simply walked into my office

with this pre-planned motive for destroying my Games. The say that the problems all start with Katniss Everdeen. I dont know whether or not I want to believe them. Katniss Everdeen seems of no threat to me, or to the progress of the Games. She is a volunteer and, as an underdog, she is never going to get the sponsors to see her through the first day of the Games; not with what Seneca Crane has planned for this year. But, there is no time to worry about them now, for the Tributes have all been Reaped and the 74th Annual Hunger Games are going to begin very soon. I look forward to this event more than I do my own birthday because I love reminding people that, no matter how hard they rebel, theyre always going to be under the control of The Capitol and that is never going to change; no matter how hard they try to make it change. I took my steps onto the balcony, Kieli and Selene followed me out in their ceremonial robes so that the residents of The Capitol would know who they were and would cheer for the presence of them as they did every single year; like they were all they came here to see and they didnt care about anyone else who was involved in making this entertainment possible for the people. I took my position upon my podium, looking out at the wave of colours which was now standing before my very eyes. The vibrant dresses, the crazy hairstyles and the in-your-face make up which was so common in The Capitol because my residents were better than anything the Districts could ever produce - but they all still looked good in their own unique way and they made sure they each stood out for their individual reasons rather than for the same reasons, which is what made me proud to be the President of here. That, and the fact I had total control over the Districts and, if they put a single toe out of line, then I would make sure the suffered and would ensure their life was never the same again. After a couple of moments of taking in the people below me and the overall ambiance of the moment, I raised my arm into a slight wave, just to show my appreciation to all these people for being here tonight to celebrate the most waited for event of the year. People betting on their favourite Tributes, based upon what they had already seen from them at the Reapings and hoping that it was going to be even more improved upon from the previous year. I managed to turn my lips up into something that formed a vague smile, something which I rarely did unless I was left no other option but to do so. All eyes were on me and all ears were waiting to see what I had to say about this years games and to see if there was anything I would tell them about what to expect from the two girls standing behind me. As soon as I opened my mouth to speak, the entire sea of people silenced and looked onto me with a certain eagerness about them, and I loved that they were at my very command.

Simply because of who I was and the power I had over them. Welcome, citizens, to the opening of the 74th Hunger Games. This is year is going to be spectacular, and you should be sure to look out for some exciting surprises which we have planned for you all. I do hope youve all been placing your bets wisely because, as we all know, the Tribute is either going to be from District 1 or 2 because theyre the only people who really have the power to win. I started, and the audience laughed at the last comment I made, before falling silent again and allowing me to carry on with my speech. Seriously though, we have got a wide range of Tributes this year and there might be a couple who surprise you. Little Rue from District 11 might be small, but there is also the chance shes got something up her sleeve for you all. Cato from District 2 seems to have a confidence about him which means hes not here to mess around and will definitely take out everything in his own path for a gain. And, how about the boy from District 12? He might be worth backing because you never know what a person can do, simply from looking at them. Just remember, keep your options open and enjoy this years games; whether it be on your own or with your family. Youre not going to want to take your eyes off your screens. I can guarantee you that one. The silence ended and there was an eruption of cheers from the people below me. The colours all merging together to form some sort of weird and strange mix which, if you looked at it for too long, made your eyes feel like youd had little too much to drink the previous night. As soon as they had all got over the excitement of the prospect of what they could look forward to this year in comparison to previous years, they all fell silent once again and waited to see if there was anything else I had to say on the matter in question. Keili and Selene here are going to make sure youre not disappointed, and Im sure theyve got their ways of making this games more dramatic than anything youve experienced before. This year is going to be a real reminder of everything we, The Capitol and I, President Snow, stand for and just how forgiving we really are. So, its with the greatest of pleasures that I say, Happy Hunger Games and may the odds be ever in your favour. Especially with your bets. Please, enjoy the party and celebrate the very reason we are all here tonight. I concluded, giving the audience another wave to thank them all for listening to me and to show that I really did appreciate them all being here tonight before the main event tomorrow. The Tributes Parade. The official start of The Hunger Games. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ MagmaKepner The crowds below are filled with shouting and laughing and extremely loud music. I dislike this week precisely because of the colours and the people and the noise and especially the laughter. Theres always too many people. It makes my job extremely hard, though there is not much to do anyways. No, next week is when my job truly begins. And let me tell you, my job is not easy on the mind or heart, which is why on any other occasion I would enjoy the colours and the people and the musicbut watching these people dance and sing and party in the streets just makes me ill; very ill indeed.

I can smell the champagne that people breathe in, and I feel the peoples emotions as if they were my own. It causes quite a headache, let me tell you, to be this close to people yet so far form their reality. I could reach out and pluck them from their parties with just a single tap, but I settle for just watching things go by. Besides, there are always one or two people I have to pluck here, but there will be plenty of time to pluck people in a week. Which is disheartening, to say the least. My counterparts are separated into their Districts, one, maybe two in the higher districts- they have the longest, most tedious jobs. Their work never ends, while mine is considerably less than theirs, more vacation time for the work I do. The others tend to dislike me, unfortunately. Their loss, I do suppose. The faces of the tributes who have been reaped already shine bright on the walls of the white buildings in the Square, and I despise to think that almost all of them will murder or be murdered. Murdering their own kind, their own siblings, how disgusting and repelling it truly is. And trust me, Ive seen it all- nothing compares to the atrocious act of murdering each other for others entertainment. Each child is only a child, each child who is killed had a family and a mind and thoughts and feelings and let me tell you that it hurts me to have to take them, weeping usually, away. And to think that people are jubilant, laughing without a care in the world, down on the streets. I need a well-earned vacation sometime soon or else I will do something drastic that will get me sent back to the pits of Hell in 0.04 seconds flat. It is quite cold down there. ~~~ The night begins to wane, leaning towards midnight, and the party is revving up, loud music now blaring, and lights exploding overhead in a plethora of noise. Its beautiful. The colours. Colours are some of the only beauty I get to see, and with my job, if there is such a beautiful sight such as fireworks, I entitle myself to it. Nevertheless, the colours do eventually fade, just like everything in life, and I am left staring into the dark abyss that is known as reality. As midnight strikes, the clocks around the Square chiming, a loud cheer emanates from the congregation that now spans almost five blocks in circumference. The faces that light up the Capitol walls slowly disintegrates into nothing, and is replaced instead by Capitol seals, each wall housing thei District emblem of the tribute who once was pictured there. Upon the large balcony that adorns the largest building in the square, a man stands, aging, along with two young girls beside him, each of them with strange, jubilant smirks on their faces. I have not witnessed the two girls before, and I cannot gain any information from them, which makes me weary and suspicious and makes my head pound more than it is already. The man, however, I have had the utmost pleasure of meeting, many a time. The President of Panem, Coriolanus Snow, with his white hair and his sinister smile. A hearty fellow, always smelling of white roses mixed with, if I dare say it, a lingering scent of souls. His perfume is so much more prominent, however, when I am right beside him, waiting for him to finish what he started. He repels me, to say the very least; makes my job infinitely times harder and longer. His booming voice recedes over the waves of people, his face being broadcasted to every television and District Square. Welcome, everybody! With those two words, an enormous cheer erupts from the crowd, the many drinks rising up in succession, many couples kissing as if it is New Years. President Snow raises his hand, causing the crowd to fall into a hushed anticipation, and for families in the Districts to either weep or turn away in disgust. I would like to welcome you all, he says, his voice strenuous and booming, his face smiling joyously to the thousands of cameras zoomed into his face, to the seventy-fourth Hunger Games! The anticipation in the crowd breaks, cheering erupts in an eruption, and fireworks explode in the sky,

swirls of green and red and blues and purples and wonderful, wonderful colours everywhere. People in the District turn their televisions off- the opening speech is the only thing not mandatory to watch, except for the first opening lines of the ceremony, formally opening the Games. Thousands of televisions immediately turn off in the Districts, and the television company reels in disgust at the absolute abomination this years viewer counts are. Of course, they calculate, more people are in Capitol Square than ever before, so perhaps its an average viewership. This year, I have the, he coughs, bringing out his red handkerchief from his white suit pocket, dabbing his mouth carefully; before tucking it back in his pocket neatly, honor of having two very important people advise me with running the Games. I expect them both to bring forth stunning ideas to keep you all entertained and the tributes on their feet! The crowd by now is in a frenzy, cheering and screaming and drinking and doing heaven knows what with themselves. Probably illegal stuff too. The two girls stand taller, their matching grins extending to the far reaches of their faces. They wave politely to the crowd, much to the crowds delight, as they begin screaming and cheering at even louder volumes than humanly possible. I expect these Games to be new, exciting and refreshing to all! Panem today, Panem tomorrow, Panem forever! With that, President Coriolanus Snow ushers the two strange girls quickly back into the large wooden doors of the Presidents second home and work space, and as the large doors slam above the crowd, the seals on the sides of the buildings slowly disintegrates back into the solemn expressions of the tributes this year. A brief speech, much shorter than last years, however it matter to no one, and it especially does not faze the partygoers, as to them they merely have more time to celebrate and revel in the imminent deaths of twenty-three innocent children. The music begins again, a catchy tune lulling overtop the commotion, and colours erupt in the sky once more. I can hear the whispers and murmurs of the crowd, if I listen closely enough- if you would like to take a quick listen? Its mostly jabbering and gibberish, unintelligible slurs formed incoherent to the most keenly trained listener from the champagne and booze, however you can often hear heated debates about the tributes, too. It is a perk of my job, you know. Murmurs of how the competition is presumed to be fierce- never has anyone ever seen a person volunteer in the highest District, and a girl, for one! How that girl from five is quite keen and cunningthe careers best look out for her or quite possibly get killed. So many whispered secrets about the tributes, speculation on who will kill whom. The best bets on tributes are the obvious pairs from One and Two, but Clove and Cato seem to be gathering the rankings in quickly- the bets placed piling underneath each of the individual Tributes picture, only one of the five betting slots changing- the other four saved for post-Chariot Rides, postTraining Scores, post-Interviews, and the Games themselves. Rankings are distributed underneath the bets, Cato first, a small girl from Eleven last. The twelve tributes seem to do quite well for once, ranking in at 15 and 16, while the brute male from Eleven comes in at a staggering 10th place. There is not much deviation, however, with most of the bets on other tributes however- save the fact that the District Four pair seem slightly less-betted on than usual, not unlikely considering the boy is extremely young- it is such a rarity and quite saddening to see such young a boy not get volunteered for-especially for a Career district. The middle districts range from bets 11 up to 23, with the top 10 bets being the six Careers, the brute from Eleven taking 10th, a shocking twist with the District Five girl taking 7th, and the District Three pair taking bet places 8 and 9.

People across the Districts place their own bets, at home, at work and at their marketplaces and bars. I fear that these Games will be quite different than most, though please do not ask me why- just consider it a nagging intuition. And may I apologize in advance for the twenty-three souls I will have to collect during the Games, and the shattered one that will remain. Its not easy being Death you know. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ GhostOfGamesPast There he stood, on top of the world, and nobody could bring him down. From his throne, President Cornelius Snow could see the entire festival below him: a party hosted by himself to celebrate the end of the Reapings and the tributes that would arrive with the eastern sun in the morning. Snow could see anything from the feathered hats that many of the women were wearing - apparently, they were in style this season - to the streamers decorating city square, or even the twelve lanterns set across the square, one per district. Those of a betting mood would light a flame in the lantern of the district they thought would win. Once a district lost its final tribute, the flame would be extinguished. That thought brought Snow joy. "Sir, have you seen the lanterns?" the voice of a young woman cut through his thoughts, and Snow turned around to face it, only to notice one of the Gamemakers (the Steel girl, he believed) standing behind him. They had claimed to come from the future to protect the Capitol. Snow wasn't convinced, of course, but the safety of his rule was more important than checking the veracity of their words. At the worst, he could have the two charlatans executed for their mistruths. "Yes, Kieli, I have. Everything seems perfectly fine. Two is ahead, as usual, and One and Four are close behind. All the outlying districts are barely aflame." "I'd check again, Mr. President," insisted the girl. Snow looked into the crowd; his jaw dropped as he saw what had occurred. "The twelfth flame..." "The twelfth flame has passed all others but the second, yes. It seems as if your citizens are intrigued by Katniss Everdeen, the girl we warned you about." "Did you not stop her sister from being Reaped?" The anger in Snow's tone did not faze Kieli in the slightest. "That would be impossible, Sir," she said. Now, Snow could feel the fear in her voice again and it pleased him; he had no power over those he did not terrify. "Besides, it is much better to kill her off. That way, we are certain she will never be able to start the rebellion that burns us down."

"Burns us down?" It had become Snow's turn to show fear. He shook not because of the night's cold, but because terror iced his veins. "Will she burn me alive, then?" For what must have been the first time since his election, Snow envied those at the party. They danced and are and gossiped, completely unworried by circumstances they knew nothing of. Citizens of the Capitol were carefree. They had no responsibilities; as long as they had the money to pay, they could do whatever they pleased. "It's a figure of speech," explained Kieli. The words soothed him, but the fear was not quite dead. Then again, none of his fears had ever died off; he was still petrified by the thought that someone might discover how he'd risen to the throne. "Since your people named her the Girl on Fire, the rebels planned their entire rebellion to match the flames." "So they don't burn me, then?" The relief in Snow's voice was obvious to just about anybody who listened, though Kieli knew it wouldn't last. Those with power were clever enough not to feel relief often, and Snow was definitely one of the cleverest men to hold - or have held - power in Panem. "Would you like to know how you will die, Mr. President?" "Any man would like to know how they die, Miss Steele. I, however, would love nothing better; knowledge is the best army." "I'm warning you, this is far from pleasant." "Pleasantries are for imbeciles." Kieli sighed. "They tie you to a post for the girl to kill you - one arrow through the heart was all it took. She changed her mind, shot the new president, and chaos ensued. We aren't sure whether you asphyxiated in your laughter or were trampled. Most experts believe the second is more likely." "Trampled? Are you saying I die, suffocated by a bunch of idiotic, frenzied rebels?" "Mr. President, please try to enjoy he party. If our plan works, you won't have to worry about this anyways, and I promise that the plan will work. Katniss Everdeen will not win these Games." Snow looked at the people enjoying themselves and then to the torches which were burning as bright as they could. It seemed as if the second could touch the stars, but the twelfth was far too close for comfort. He would not enjoy the party; he would keep an eye out on the torch and Katniss Everdeen. He would make sure the girl died. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Clato_

The Capitol was buzzing with multicoloured citizen. Everyone was here for one reason - the President was going to confirm the 74th Annual Hunger Games. There was no big screens to project the tributes faces this year; the Capitol would flash the innocent or pure evil - faces of the tributes on the beautiful architecture of the Capitol. The Capitol began to hush as the skyscrapers around them glowed slightly. The face of District One's girl, who was named Glimmer, shone. Her light blonde hair tumbled down elegantly. She received a huge cheer, the Capitol was crazy over the Careers. Marvel, the boy from District One, smirked in his photo. His dirty blonde hair was smoothed back. The Capitol was in awe at his cheeky smile and his beautiful eyes. He was cheered just as much as Glimmer. The girl from District Two, Clove, glared at the Capitol citizens. If looks could kill, she would be a clear winner. She looked pretty small, but the Capitol know that you should never underestimate a tribute because of their physical appearance. The Capitol screamed over Clove; her sadistic smile won the crowd over. Her counterpart was a giant compared to her. Cato smirked the same kind of grin Marvel grinned, only it seemed more serious - he could tear the head off of a small tribute if he tried. His blonde hair was beautifully ruffled, standing up slightly. He received the biggest cheer yet - District Two is always the favourite. The girl from District Three, Mailey, looked weak and malnourished. Her hair was scraped back into an unstylish ponytail. Not very interesting. She didn't receive a very big cheer. District Three's boy, Noah, looked a bit more promising. His black hair swept around his head. He received a slight cheer, but compared to Cato's cheer, it was like silence. The crowd were surprised at District Four's tributes. They must've had a slight off-year. The girl, Marina, looked somewhat strong, but she didn't have what it took to be a Career. She received a cheer, as District Four always does, but it wasn't loud. The boy, Breck, was a surprise to the audience. His small, curly hair and his freckles gave him an innocent look. You wouldn't think he was a Career, but you never know. He received more of a sympathetic coo, the cheering barely audible as the citizens made high pitched squeals. District Five is never really that great, but this year, the tributes looked interesting. The girl, Finch, looked at the crowd through squinted eyes. Her ginger hair was tied up and her face was emotionless. She looked very intelligent. She received a small cheer. The male, Eddie, had black shaggy hair, tanned skin and a look on his face that indicated anger and confusion. If it wasn't for the doubt in his eyes, he would look strong from first glance. He got a bigger cheer than Finch, but it wasn't anything compared to the Careers.

The District Six female, Tamora, gave a small smirk in her picture. Her blonde hair was parted slightly to the left. She had her hair tied up in ponytails, giving her a slightly girly look. Her cheer wasn't very loud. The boy, Jason, had dark brown hair and a look of 'really, I can't be bothered,' plastered across his face. From first glance, he looked strong, but District Six aren't great contenders in these games. He received a small cheer. District Seven's girl, Willow, had her blonde hair messily plaited down her back. Her face carried a timid, innocent look. She received quite a big cheer, seeing as District Seven are normally very good. The Districts are in a hierarchy, with One and Two at the top, followed by Seven. Her male counterpart, Ash, had tanned skin, dark, messy hair and a strange look on his face, as if he didn't quite understand something. The Capitol realised that District Seven, physically, weren't anything special. However, he received a cheer out of sympathy. District Eight's girl was called Savannah. Her light copper coloured hair twirled around her disgusted face. She didn't want to be there. She received a small cheer. Normally, after Seven, people don't really seem to care. The skyscrapers changed, showing Flynn, her partner, on the buildings. His dark hair was swept to the side. He looked like an older, stronger tribute. He received quite a bit of a cheer, mainly because of his appearance. That's how tributes are judged - by their muscle mass and District. The girl from Nine was called Demetria. Her orange hair was straight. The freckles on her face stood out from her pale skin. Her emotion looked neutral. She didn't receive a large cheer. Rye, the boy from Nine, looked small and timid, but kind of relaxed at the same time. His darker skin contrasted from his district partner's. His cheer was small, like his height. Susan, District Ten's female, had her dark hair parted almost centrally. It was either really short, or it was tied up. She gave off an impression of 'I don't care.' She didn't get a big cheer. District Ten never do. The male from Ten was called Bryon. He was dark skinned and his black hair swept around his head messily. He scowled slightly, giving him a menacing look. He wasn't rejected like most tributes from Ten - his cheer was somewhat decent. The crowd went back to cooing as District Eleven's girl, Rue, popped up on screen. Her dark hair was frizzy and her big chocolate eyes made her look extremely innocent and adorable. The cooing immediately stopped when Thresh, the male, flashed on the skyscrapers. He scowled intensely. Normally, Eleven tributes are scrawny and underfed. Thresh was probably bigger than Cato. He received a massive cheer. Maybe District Eleven has a winner this year.

District Twelve's Katniss showed up on the screen. Her dark hair was braided from the side. Her grey eyes were piercing and fierce. Her cheer was surprisingly big too, especially for a tribute from Twelve. Last but not least was Peeta, the male. His ash blonde hair was messy, but cute. He looked strong physically, but he had a look of sadness and fear in his eyes. He was still cheered. It was weird to see District Twelve's tributes with meat on their bones. The Capitol livened up again, the names of various tributes being mentioned in conversation. The one screen that was set up was firing up. Two girls stood by his podium. One girl was small, her hair flowed in shiny silver waves down her back, with big eyes to match. The other girl stood tall, her brunette hair elegantly tumbling down, with eyes that sparkled like emeralds. Both had the same sadistic, sinister smirks in their sly faces, removing any innocence from their souls. The President came out, readjusting the white rose in his suit pocket. He cleared his throat as he stepped up to his podium. "Welcome, citizens, to the opening of the 74th Annual Hunger Games," he said in his deep tone. "Our twenty four tributes have been selected. Only one can remain victorious. Good luck, and may the odds be ever in your favour." The Capitol screamed with excitement. The games had officially been opened. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~