So... hi everyone.

Why don't you guys read this first and then we can talk more at the bottom. For now though, I will say that I'm so sorry about zero updates. Please enjoy and let me know what you all think if you're still interested.

Chapter 2 Glorified Peacocks and Desperate Fish

District 3

Day of the Reaping

"Siri, you need to get dressed! We're going to be late!"

"Mother, you have to give me another ten minutes." Siri Oshiro shouted back down the hall, brow furrowed in deep concentration. Why weren't these shapes working with her? The image was so clear in her head, yet the wall she painted on wasn't showing her progress.

"We'll be down in a minute!" Dell announced, already dressed in a sleek grey dress. Siri's mother was fine with that answer, allowing her daughter's best friend to handle her. "Come on, girl, get your clothes on." Dell pushed, pulling out the three dress's that Siri owned for her to view.

"I already have my clothes on." Siri shot back, quite comfortable in her baggy shirt and pants, each with splotches of old paint on them. "Does this look ok to you? I just feel like it's too much grey."

"We live in District 3, nothing is 'too much gray' here. Now come on, put on one of these dresses. Your parents really went all out for you!"

Even Siri had to acquiesce to that. The dresses were very nice, no doubt worth more than what at least sixty percent of the District made in a year. It was a luxury buy, but when her family was rich and lived in the Core, the wealthiest portion of the District, those purchases were allowable.

"The painting is missing something." Siri commented, scratching her neck. She didn't even realize she'd caused paint to splotches across her skin.

"Color?" Dell suggested. "But there's nothing we can do about that. Maybe you could get some dye run off from the factories?"

"Are you purposely trying to kill me?" Siri hissed, her tone angry. "Honestly, Dell, I thought you cared about me!"

Dell rolled her eyes, used to Siri's abrasive tone, knowing she meant no insult with it. "Just a suggestion. Now come on, get one of these dresses on."

"Not until I finish the painting."

"What if I told you I had news about Acer?"

That caused Siri to stop painting, finally breaking her concentration after almost nine hours of work. She had woken up around 2am, inspiration hitting her, and she had to paint. But Acer, he was enough to finally get her to stop. He was her neighbor, and they usually hung out at various events hosted by someone in the Core. He was also the only boy she found attractive.

"What about him?" Siri asked.

"If you get dressed for the Reaping, I'll tell you." Dell replied, trying to play innocent.

Without hesitation, Siri was moving towards the dresses, glaring at Dell. "You're incredibly mean." She said. "Making me get all dressed up for these over glorified peacocks we call Capitolites!"

"Or just clever." Dell replied before turning around to give Siri her privacy as she changed. "So I spoke to-"

"You spoke to Acer directly about this matter?!" Siri questioned, struggling to put on the dress. She had decided to go with the gray dress, not caring that it matched Dell's, and was attempting to put it on in front of her mirror. She was rather tall for someone of Asian descendent, standing at five foot nine and almost a hundred twenty-five pounds. Regardless, Siri was never one to care about personal looks, allowing leg and armpit hair to sprout on her body. She only knew that her family was from the old world continent due to the private tutor her parents gave her because of her "condition" as they said politely. Her tutor, Isaac, didn't have much of a filter and Siri loved when he taught her things that students at school didn't know.

"Of course not, I spoke to his best friend! He said that Acer also likes you."

Siri had to take a moment to process that information. Acer liked her. It was such a foreign concept to her, yet Siri refused to let her emotions show on her face. "Well, I'm glad that he does. Especially with my condition."

Dell huffed at that. Siri knew that Dell didn't approve of her parent's efforts to conceal their socially awkward daughter. "You don't have a condition." She said, always so supportive of Siri that it would annoy her at times.

"Asperger's is a condition. Not a terrible one, and one that I can certainly work with." Siri replied.

"Anyways," Dell continued, not wanting to get into the knity gritty of it with her friend. Siri could debate anybody into the ground, often without mercy. She had left many a boy or girl tearful because of her lack of manners. "Acer want's to meet up after the Reaping for the Dover's party down the block."

"Just us heading over together?" Siri asked. All the families of the Core were invited to that party. There was nothing special about it, except that alcohol was served. The Dover's were rich enough to convince the Peacekeepers to look the other way, meaning the Core was often a wild neighborhood to be in post-Reaping. If the Capitol was making the District throwing a Reaping Festival, the people in the Core would do it drunk.

"Well, Acer asked if his friend and I could be there." Dell said, knowing exactly how it sounded. "But I promise you that him and I will leave you guys alone once we get there."

Siri, however, did not understand the underlying implications of Acer wanting their respective best friends there. "If you want. I don't mind having you both there." She replied, zipping up the back of the dress. She looked herself over the mirror, paint still drying on her arms and hair frizzled. She hadn't showered in two days, not that it was unusual for most of District 3. Instead of dealing with the paint marks, Siri instead went into her small closet and pulled out a zip up hoodie, its coarse appearance spoiling the beautiful dress.

"Should we go now?" she asked.

Dell nodded her approval. She had done her part in getting Siri dressed, if her parents wanted to shout at her about the hoodie, that was their business. Together, the two girls left Siri's room and made their way to the foyer of the one story house, both hoping that the Reaping wouldn't take to long. While there was a certain amount of dread in them for the event, especially since one of the Core's own children had been Reaped last year, the odds were in their favor enough that both girls knew they would be back in the Core soon enough for the Dover's party.

"And one more line in the dirt… aaaaaand there we we have it! Our own little District!"

A serious of gasps escaped the lips of the various kids of the Canal section of District 3, marveling at the work of the older boy, Cyril Swatton. They were standing the Canal's park, though it was hardly anything more than just a flat mound of dirt that didn't contain any rusted pieces of metal or needles. Due to its lack of danger and central location, the area quickly became known as a park for children, many of whom went there at all times of the day to escape the dreary atmosphere of their own homes. Today, sixteen year old Cyril had decided to form the dirt into a a small city, with bits of small rubble acting as people the other kids, all of whom were below the age of ten, could play with.

"So cool!" one of them, Data, breathed. She was the leader of this group of seven dirty boys, all of whom worshiped her. "I get to be the mayor!" she declared, grabbing hold of the large, silver screw who was the mayor's stand in.

The boys grumbled at that, but didn't fight her. They quickly began grabbing pieces as well as Cyril admired his work. "You guys have fun with it, ok?"

"You're not going to play with us?" Data asked, disappointment in her eyes.

"Not today, I have to start getting home and bathe before the Reaping."

"Oh right, that's today. Well good luck! My dad says we don't have to be there as early as you guys do." Data said, before turning to the dirt city so she could begin her rule. Cyril smiled at the innocence. They were still too young to fully grasp the horror of the Reapings. They knew that children went off to die, but none of them had older siblings or cousins who had gone through it. None of them fully understood the fear that it filled Cyril with. Building the dirt city had been a great way to distract himself, but now it was time to return to reality.

His terrible, depressing reality.

As Cyril made his way home, he attempted to distract himself with happier thoughts so he wouldn't have to pay attention to the disgusting smell or look of the Canals. His mother and him had been living there for seven years now, and still Cyril could not fully adjust to his new environments. Going from the Core to the poorest part of District 3 was a shocking, even without the emotional baggage they brought with them.

The rickety noise from the makeshift bridges brought him back to earth though, as he quickly moved across the remainder of it to safer ground. The Canals were named such because rows of trenches littered the area, often outside the the small shacks people called homes. Sewage, run off from the factories, and other garbage travelled through them, staining the entire area with a horrible smell that no one, not even those born and raised there, were able to fully adjust too. To adapt, bridges and boardwalks had been constructed from used sheet metal to allow for people to at least navigate the area.

While starvation was always a near constant, most people in the Canals died from infection or disease. Infants were especially susceptible to the disease, with over half of all babies being born dying within the first year. The only benefit was that the Peacekeepers steered clear of the area, not wanting to risk crap being thrown at them by angry locals who could navigate the maze of canals and bridges easily.

Rounding another corner, Cyril came to a stop when he saw four people, three men and one woman, standing outside his home. He knew who they were, everyone in the Canal did, Cyril remained exactly where he was, not wanting to interfere. Phantom pains shot through his body, lighting up along the scars the were scattered across his body. His side hurt especially, as he felt bruised ribs that never healed properly bumping against his skin. And of course, there were his missing fingers.

Luckily, none of the gang members decided to look his way. The woman, the leader, was talking with his mom, who looked worn down and desperate. An exchange of cash, the gang leader smiled, and soon the members were gone. The air on the block seemed to relax once they left, though the putrid smell of burned rubber and shit still remained.

As his mom entered their hovel, Cyril quickly made his way down their street. Entering their home, Cyril let out a sigh of relief, feeling safe in his own home despite its terrible design structure. His mom turned to him, offering him a small smile.

"We have a loaf still left over. A bit stale, but doable." She said, offering the entire loaf to her son. "We can run over to the supply depot and grab some more after the Reaping."

"We have enough?" Cyril asked, honestly surprised. The gang had a tendency to clear them out.

"I made a little extra this month. We'll be fine." His mom replied, giving him a mischievous wink. The behavior was all a show for him, but he appreciated it. His mom truly did love him, which is more than what he could say for many moms and dads in the Canal.

"Then we can do that." Cyril said, knowing that his mom probably had to lie to the gang members to be able to hold onto that money. "We also have my tesserae. That'll help too."

A touchy subject. Cyril had been forced to take extra tesserae each year, an act that his mom disapproved of. But it was the only way that they could survive, especially since most of their income was given away. "That'll do too. Hopefully they'll have the regular amount this month."

Yet another touchy subject, but this one was District wide. Over the past two months, the food supply had been lower than they were suppose to be. Already meager to start, the rations that Cyril had been promised for adding his name more times into the Reaping bowl were practically zero. Nobody argued it though, all knowing that it would mean a beating from a Peacekeeper.

Cyril merely nodded in response and excused himself to bathe. The tub was located in the backyard, abandoning all ideas of privacy. All of his neighbors had seen Cyril in various stages of undress, but he had seemed in as such as well. It was just the way they lived in District 3. Unless you were in the Core.

Instantly, his mind was transported back to easier times, when he lived with his parents in a respectable one story house in the Core, which actually had a backyard that wasn't filled with holes and garbage. Memories of his dad, dead seven years now, came flooding back as well. Cyril focused on the happy memories, as he tried to do with everything. Ones of him playing with his dad in the yard and ones of him holding Cyril after he had come running to his dad about a nightmare.

In hindsight, Cyril couldn't believe how innocently he looked at him, never seeing his darker side. True, he had only been nine when it all came out, and even after what happened to him, Cyril still took a while to fully grasp it. His dad had never raised his voice to him, never brought any of the shady characters that would eventually torture Cyril to their home, and was never violent with his mom or him. His dad would spank him sometimes, but it was always dispassionate and never done in a fit of rage. Those painful sessions did nothing to prepare him for what was coming though.

The unpleasant memories started wafting up towards him, just like the smell of sewage, forcing Cyril to fight them off. Letting out a long sigh, Cyril began to address himself, just wanting to get the Reaping over with.

"They can be really annoying, can't they?"

Dell looked towards Siri, pulling her recently pricked finger out of her mouth. "They're doing their jobs." Dell replied, thinking that Siri was referring to the Peacekeepers. Even if they were children of the Core, it still wasn't wise to insult Peacekeepers.

"No, not them. Of course not them. My parents." Siri corrected, exasperation creeping into her voice. She wasn't good with emotion, and her parents near tears performance while they wished her well always made her uncomfortable. "They always get so emotional with these Reapings. This is my fourth one and my name is hardly in that bowl. Nothing is going to happen."

"You are really tempting fate today. Maybe calm down a bit? You never know what can happen." Dell cautioned, though she herself wasn't too worried. Both of their names were in the bowl the bare minimum amount. As they took their place in the sixteen-year-old section, they looked around at their peer who had a greater chance of being Reaped. They gazed back at them in turn, offended by the nice clothes that Siri and Dell wore. If a Peacekeeper wasn't near them, Siri was certain one of them would spit at her.

The two girls grew silent, the awkwardness in the air choking both of them. So far, in Siri's experience, it had been like this ever year. The lower class girls staring at them in the Core attire, despising them. The less her and Dell talked, the better. Siri just wanted the Reaping to be over. She would never admit it to Dell, but she was panged with anxiety over Acer and their coming date. On second though, Siri didn't think it was fair to call it a date. Whatever it was, it had her nervous, and she anxiously began scratching her arm, a telltale sign of her nerves.

"You'll be fine." Dell whispered, squeezing Siri's arm softly. "They won't do anything."

"That's not-" Siri began, before stopping herself with a sigh. "Thank you." She replied instead. Dell had always been there for Siri, even though Siri had no idea why. They had been best friends since youth and had been through so much together. Even though Dell still went to school and had other friends, she always came back to Siri. It was a sort of friendship and commitment that Siri didn't know how to react to. Her inability to understand would make her feel angry at times, but she always came back to appreciating Dell.

There was a crackle through the air as the microphone picked up the doors of the Hall of Justice opened. Their new mayor, Melanie Sinclair, lead the group of officials alongside the Head Peacekeeper onto the stage. She was elegant, Siri thought, without a hair out of place and clothing that commanded respect, yet not entitlement like some styles from the Core. As soon as everyone was settled, Mayor Sinclair stepped up to the microphone and began to speak.

"Good morning, citizens of District 3, and welcome the 78th Hunger Games Reaping." She announced, not trying to make her voice happier as the Capitol preferred. "Before we begin, I would just like to say what an honor it is to oversee this year's Reapings. As your new mayor, I am proud of our citizens, and I will be proud of the young man and woman who will join me on this stage soon. We came so close last year. May the odds be in our favor now!"

A variety of noises came from parts of the crowd. The adults in the back were moved by their mayor's words, as her own daughter, Amélie, was killed in last year's Bloodbath. It was because of her death, and Sinclair's following support for the Capitol, that many believed Sinclair had been given the job of Mayor.

But it was more than just the murmurs of support, there was an undercurrent of anger running through the crowd. District 3 had made it to third place in last years Hunger Game, a feat that hadn't been accomplished in almost two decades. Watt Dresner had been their small, underfed, traumatized, unlikely hero who defied the odds to make it so far. Even his family admitted in their Final Eight interview that they didn't expect Watt to make it. He had come so close, only to be cut down by the male tribute from District 4.

Siri snorted as she thought about it. It was forbidden to say his name in the District following his outburst near the end of last years Games. Now, he was only to be known as the male tribute from District 4, if he had to be referred to at all. His words had inspired some acts of terrorism from the anarchists, who Peacekeepers thought they had rooted out years ago. If that occurred in District 3, Siri couldn't imagine what was happening in other, more rebellious Districts.

'That probably explains why the tesserae have been so small.' Siri thought, remembering how Dell told her kids at school were upset about it. 'The Outliers are rebelling.'

Mayor Sinclair finished her speech and called up the District's airheaded escort. She still wore all yellow and at least seemed more confident in herself this year. Siri felt a small smile creep onto her face as she remembered how the escort's words last year had almost started a riot. This year though, the escort was very controlled and got right to the point.

"Last year I chose the ladies first, so why not switch it up and pick gentlemen first?" the escort asked rhetorically. With a small, awkward laugh she walked over to the boy's bowl and fished around in it for a name. Much like last year, she took her time, a full thirty seconds, before pulling out a name. Unwrapping the paper as she walked, the escort announced the name once she reached the microphone.

"Cyril Swatton!"

A sharp gasp from Dell. "Oh damn, we know him!" she whispered loudly into Siri's ear, causing her to recoil.

"We do?" Siri asked, looking up at the screens for a visual. Within seconds, Cyril appeared on screen, now an island in a sea of sixteen-year-old who had stepped away from him. He was a short guy with a little muscle, but his skin was too pale and black hair too shaggy and long to be considered traditionally attractive. He was utterly petrified, as if he were about to vomit, though didn't resist as Peacekeepers dragged him from his section and pushed him towards the stage.

"He used to live in the Core! His dad was like, a factory manager I wanna say? I think?"

Siri raised her eyebrows at that. "A factory manager doesn't make enough for a house in the Core."

"You really don't remember him?" Dell asked. "His dad died when he was like ten or something. My parents said his family couldn't pay the taxes on the house, so they were forced to move to the Canals."

Siri gave him one more look as he stood next to the escort and shook her head. "I really don't remember him."

"Well, maybe he'll win and get to come live in Victor Village next door." Dell remarked.

"I doubt he has a chance."

"Hey, after Watt, I'm willing to give anybody a chance."

"And now for the ladies!" The escort continued, before moving over the girl's bowl and repeating her long process for them. After grabbing a name, she rushed back to the microphone and read it off.

"Oh, such a pretty name! Siri Oshiro!"

Another deep gasp from Dell erupted next to Siri, who stood there stunned. But suddenly, she began laughing, thinking back to earlier when she had taunted fate. Siri didn't believe in anything spiritual, but the irony from the universe was too much to handle.

"Oh, woe is me. My young life cut so short, for the entertainment of glorified peacocks." Siri announced, her laughter subsiding and leaving a smile behind.

"Siri, what the shit?" Dell breathed, mouth agape at the development. "How could… how is this… I volunteer! I volunteer as tri-"

Siri hissed and was on her friend, throwing her hand over Dell's mouth. "Don't be an idiot!" Siri shouted. "There's nothing you can do! You don't stand any better chance in the arena than I do, anyways."

Dell's eyes were tearing up, a low moan escaping between Siri's fingers. Siri could feel the petty eyes on her, the lower class girls reveling in the moment. Another Core girl taken. No doubt they were rooting for her to die in the Bloodbath as well. "You're going to be ok, Dell. You will be." Siri said, removing her hand from Dell's mouth and walking out of her section. Her laughter had been picked up by the cameras, so Peacekeepers had quickly found her and were awaiting.

The walk felt like an eternity, but she eventually reached the stage without any other outbursts. The escort welcomed her up with a smile. "That was quite the reaction!" the escort stated. "Why the laughter?"

Siri shrugged. "Just a joke between my friend and me."

"Well alright then. Secrecy, I love it!" the escort commented. Her face morphed into mild disgust when she looked down at Siri's unshaved legs. "Ladies and Gentlemen, your tributes for the 78th Hunger Games! Shake hands you two!"

A small amount of clapping could be heard from the crowd, rather mockingly towards Siri, but she ignored it and turned towards her partner. He wasn't much, standing three inches shorter than her. Even at this close distance, she still didn't recognize him. Extending a hand, she was surprised when the hand that grabbed hers was missing a pinky and ring finger. There were also some scars running up along his arms, though they did not appear to be self inflicted.

"I think I know you." Cyril muttered.

Once more, Siri shrugged. "Doesn't matter, we'll both be dead in a week."

And without another word, Siri turned and lead the the way into the Justice Building.

District 4

In the quiet of his darkened room, Marlin Mendez sat shirtless doing his breathing exercises. A candle was lit in front of him, soothing to him as it danced off the walls and his own bare, sculpted brown muscles. Marlin breathed in and out over and over again, mastering him breath and heart rate, focusing his mind on just one thing and one thing only.

Or at least he would if the hovercrafts would quiet down outside.

Marlin's eyes opened as, after almost an hour of trying, he realized he would be unable to meditate effectively today. Much like he hadn't been able to over the past months. District 4, even the elite Oceanside community where he resided, had been transformed since the 77th Hunger Games. Now, Peacekeepers patrolled every street, tanks and checkpoints were set up everywhere, and hovercrafts – models which were designed for combat and not silence – flew over at all hours of the day.

All because of that idiot, Ansel Gephardt.

Marlin had no mercy in his mind for Ansel. The idiot District 4 tribute from last years Games that had a chance to win and threw it away so he could yell lies about the Capitol. His death had been horrifying, but Marlin knew he deserved it. There were always rebels out there, always looking to tear down Panem and leave only anarchy. The Capitol was the only way to prevent the collapse of civilization.

Getting up, Marlin went over to the wall and flipped on the lights and opened the blinds. Looking outside down the street, Marlin could make out the festivities that were taking place at his soon to be Partner for the Games Mediterrania's house. Her parents were hosting a 'Goodbye' Celebration for their daughter and had invited everyone. Marlin had been invited as well, but he never did well in social settings. He was much better with hitting and killing things.

Thinking about the party, Marlin remembered he was supposed to meet Mediterrania so they could head to the Reapings together. It would be a half hour until they were to meet, but Marlin didn't mind heading over early and waiting.

Changing quickly, Marlin put on a respectable suit and tie, bought by his parents for the big day. Looking himself over in the mirror, he actually looked quite nice. Allowing himself a smile, Marlin made his way over to the the Seville's villa, quite happy with how the day was going.

Just down the block, the hovercrafts were also spoiling the mood of the Seville family's congratulations brunch for their daughter, and future tribute, Mediterrania. No expense had been spared by the Seville's for their only child, her goodbye brunch would be splendid despite the horrid state of the District at the moment. Tables of food and alcohol stretched along the patio that overlooked the sea, a cool ocean breeze blowing over the party guest. Roughly thirty families, and some of Mediterrania's friends, had showed, all of whom were carefully tended to by the villa's staff.

At the center of it was Mediterrania herself, dazzling in a beautiful white dress that contrasted nicely with her olive, almost brown, skin and dark hair. The dress was cut above her breasts, showing off her well muscled shoulders, from long hours of training, and a freckles, from long hours in the sun. Mediterrania was on the shorter side, yet she radiated confidence and made all eyes look to her.

"It's such a shame that Marlin couldn't join you this morning." One of her neighbors commented, already on his fourth mimosa. He was an elderly man, and Mediterrania had to work hard not to squint her nose in disgust at how poorly he had taken care of himself.

"I know, I was disappointed too. But I know Marlin, he always just wants to meditate by himself." She replied, baring her pearly white teeth at her neighbor.

"Oh? I didn't realize people actually meditated." The neighbor laughed. "I hope you two can get along in the arena as well!"

"Don't worry, I know we will. In fact, Marlin and I-"

"Because we can't have another year of District 4's tributes being on opposite sides of everything!" the neighbor continued. Mediterrania's sunny façade didn't break though. She hated being interrupted, especially by old men who thought every word they spewed had wisdom. "Two years in a row where our tributes weren't together with the Careers? Of course, it was always the female tribute who ran off with Outliers!"

"Isabella joined with the girl from District 3, not the Outliers." Mediterrania corrected, unable to help herself as she took another sip from her own drink. It was just water as Mediterrania hated drinking. She never understood the appeal of losing control over one's behavior.

"Oh of course, I knew that. But what I mean is that I'm hoping you won't be planning the same."

"Don't worry about a thing. I won't let this District down. Now, if you'll excuse me, I think my friends are calling me."

Scurrying away from the drunk old man, Mediterrania made her way over to a group of friends from school. She didn't invite anybody from the Academy, not that there were a lot of peers to mingle with, not wanting guests to focus on anybody but her.

"Hey, ladies." Mediterrania hissed, causing her friends to jump in fright. "Why didn't anyone rescue me?"

The five of them looked at one another, like fish cowering before a shark. One of them was going to be attacked, who would step up for this round?

"We thought that you wanted some time with your neighbor." One of the girls, Cascade, said. "We didn't want-"

"Cas, why would you think I would want to spend any time with that old man?" Mediterrania shout back, taking a step towards Silvia. The other girl stepped back, eyes downcast or looking into their drinks. "And put down your drinks! You know I hate drinking!"

"Mine doesn't have any alcohol in it though." Another "friend", Emilia, said, as the other friend's put down their glasses. Mediterrania shot her a look, causing Emilia's eyes to go wide. "Sorry, I just thought-"

"Oh no, don't worry. You're fine!" Mediterrania laughed, wrapping and arm around Emilia's face. She could feel Emilia stiffen under her grip, a fact that surprised, but didn't upset, her. "It's my party! You should enjoy it. In fact, I'm sorry I got upset with you all. If you want to enjoy the alcohol, go for it! My parents didn't spend all this money to entertain some of the most important people in District 4 just to have you girls not enjoy it fully! So go on, enjoy!"

All the girls thanked her and smiled and laughed, but not one of them picked their alcohol back up. Mediterrania's smile widened at that, as she steered the conversation towards more pleasant topics. She wasn't a fool, Mediterrania knew the girls had a healthy fear of her. She herself helped encourage it. It wasn't malice that drove her towards it, but Mediterrania's desire for control. It's how she become one of the most popular kids at school, the best at the Academy, and now, District 4's new female tribute.

The conversations were cut short by a clanging on glasses as Mediterrania's parents, ever doting and spoiling their daughter, drew attention to themselves, and then their daughter. Mediterrania knew it was her cue, and she left her smiling friends to join her parents at the top of the patio, where they were already singing her laurels.

"Over the years, we've seen our little girl grow up so much." Adrian, Mediterrania's father, remarked. "She's conquered every challenge life has thrown at her and now, she'll conqueror the greatest one in Panem!"

A collective awe escaped the lips of the audience, while Mediterrania playfully rolled her eyes at her father's cheesy remarks. Wrenna, Mediterrania mother, leaned over and pecked her daughter lightly on her temple before turning to address the audience in turn, only to be interrupted by a booming loudspeaker from the hovercraft over head.

ATTENTION, CITIZENS OF DISTRICT 4. REPORT IMMEDIATELY TO YOUR DESIGNATED REAPING CENTER. YOU HAVE TWO HOURS AND THIRTY MINUTES REMAINING. NON ATTENDENCE BY ANYONE IN THE DISTRICT WILL BE MET WITH EXECUTION.

"Such a horrible announcement." Wrenna commented, annoyed with being interrupted. She looked across the audience, all of whom, including the hosts, were unaccustomed to the Capitol's more militaristic tendencies toward the Districts. "Well, I think that's our cue!"

Laughter erupted, along with cheering. Many shouted Mediterrania's name in congratulations before downing their drinks. Mediterrania turned to her parents and gave them hugs, more than thrilled by how her party had come together. She then left them and went over to her friends, who were already waiting with some of the other children at the party to head over to the Reaping. Without a word to them, Mediterrania began making her way through the villa while they followed a step behind. Outside, she was happy to see Marlin waiting for her on the street.

"I hope you haven't been waiting long." Mediterrania called out, leaving behind her friends to run up and hug Marlin. He returned the display of affection with just one arm lightly wrapped around her, as if he were about to haul her off.

"Just ten minutes." He said, quickly unwrapping him from her.

"You should have come inside!"

"Not my scene."

Mediterrania rolled her eyes and, as soon as her friends caught up to her, began walking arm in arm with Marlin towards the town center. It was about a ten minute walk with the rail system, but it was a beautiful day and Mediterrania was in a good mood so she dictated that they would walk the way, adding on another fifteen minutes. Her friends, half of whom were in cheap heels they got off the black market before the crack downs, felt dread fill them at the prospect. Marlin couldn't help but chuckle.

"Still got them whipped, I see." He remarked.

"They're not whipped. They're my friends. You'd understand if you had any friends." Mediterrania replied. Out of everyone she knew, Marlin was the only one she wasn't able to fully control, though she wasn't disturbed by that. He was always very predictable and always said what was on his mind, he just didn't like following orders unless they were the Capitol's orders. Mediterrania thought that he was a bit simple because of his blind devotion, but he had always been nice to her and never stepped on her toes.

All things considered, Mediterrania actually liked Marlin well enough. She trusted him just the right amount to be his partner in the Games too. But more importantly, she liked him just the right amount to be able to kill him when the time came. Not that people in her District would mind. After all, everyone knew Marlin was only going into the Games so he could spew some pro-Capitol ideology and try to fix things post-Ansel.

Marlin didn't want to at first walk, but upon realizing that he and Mediterrania were about to be on a train for several hours, the idea of fresh air seemed much more appealing. Marlin also didn't want to upset the power Mediterrania was exerting over her friends, who followed her around like servants.

Why the girls put up with Mediterrania was beyond him. She could be very intense, but she wasn't insane and didn't hurt anybody outside of training. Perhaps they just thought she'd be their best shot at a good social future if she came home from the Games. It was always good to know a Victor. In fact, most people they passed paused to gape at them, knowing the were this year's tributes. A few even wished them luck.

'Too bad she won't be coming back.' Marlin thought. While he thought she could be too materialistic and concerned about other's opinions, Marlin did like Mediterrania. Never in a romantic sense, though Marlin had no problems with thinking about what it'd be like to sleep with her. Weirdly though, for a girl who many considered to be the hottest girl in District 4, Mediterrania never seemed to take much interest in sex. In fact, as far as Marlin knew, she had never hooked up with anyone.

"This area is so shitty." Mediterrania commented. They were only a couple blocks from the Hall of Justice, still in line waiting to be checked in.

"It didn't always look this bad." Marlin said. The Capitol had set up road blocks and turrets along the roads leading up the Hall of Justice, the heart of the District. Some buildings had been bombed or set a fire, all because of those stupid rebels. Marlin's heart clenched with hatred at the thought of the rebels.

"Well now it looks hideous. Ugh, I hope they can repair it in time for when I get back."

"I'm sure they will!" One of Mediterrania's friends said, though Mediterrania didn't bother to reply.

After a long wait, Marlin and Mediterrania finally turned onto the main road leading up to the Hall of Justice. What they saw was shocking. Bodies lined up along the sides of the wide road, all dangling in the air by ropes around their necks. The bodies had been stripped naked and branded with what looked like the Capitol's emblem. Even from the distance, Marlin could make out flies around their bodies. Peacekeepers lined up underneath the corpses, their black tinted helmets depriving them of any humanity and turning them into a haunting image.

"Good." Marlin commented. "They deserve it."

Mediterrania didn't comment, causing Marlin to look intensely at her, though her head didn't budge an inch towards him. Marlin had always suspected that Mediterrania wasn't entirely committed to the Capitol, though she espoused it loudly and often during training. Marlin looked around them, disgusted to see that people actually seemed afraid. If they weren't rebels, they had nothing to be afraid of.

In short order they were checked in and separated. Mediterrania offered Marlin a quick wink before ordering her girls into the eighteen year old section. Marlin went into the boy's section directly across, positioning himself closest to the stage. Some of the other boys around him recognized him and engaged.

"You actually going to win it this year for us?" one of them asked, tone nasty and highlighting the 'actually'. His body and breath reeked of fish and his 'nice' clothing had five visible patch jobs on them.

"Probably not." Another boy, who was behind Marlin so he couldn't see. "He going to fall in love with some freaking Outlier and think he's hotter shit than the Capitol."

Marlin decided not to fight back. The Reaping was getting ready to start and he'd rather not have cameras witness him beating up people in the crowd. His silence though only encouraged their jeers.

"You better win, asshole." Fish breath said, getting to close to Marlin for comfort. "It'll get these Peacekeepers off our back. My dad gotten whipped so bad he can't walk anymore. All because one of you dumbass Careers couldn't do their job and then couldn't even die properly. Fix this!"

As Marlin thought, the doors to the Hall opened up and government officials and Peacekeepers emerged. The crowd of teenagers fell silent and drew to attention. Usually there would be some cheering as the Reaping started, but after the last year they had, everyone was either too nervous or too angry for excitement.

The Mayor seemed to sense this and didn't hold up time with his speech. The video was played, the Treaty was read, and soon the escort was at the bowls, pulling out a girl's name first. Mediterrania didn't even give the escort to finish reading before she volunteered, emerging from the audience with a smile and a hair flip while some of her posse cheered for her. The escort looked ecstatic as she walked up onto the stage.

"And who might you be?" she asked, leaning the microphone towards her.

"Mediterrania Seville!" she declared, taking hold of the microphone. "Proud tribute and your future Victor!"

Now there was some more cheering, including clapping from the stage. An air of normality returned to the Reapings as people remembered that despite last year, they still had tributes who could actually win. The escort thanked Mediterrania and then moved to the boy's bowl. Much like Mediterrania, Marlin didn't give the escort a chance to read off the name.

"I volunteer!"

More clapping, though none from the boys surrounding him. Since he was near the front, it didn't take long for Marlin to make his way up onto the stage. Soon he had the microphone in hand as well, announcing his name and intentions to win too. The escort wrapped things up quickly after that, the tributes shook hands to applause from the audience, and the pair made their way into the Justice Building.

"I think one of us can actually pull this off." Mediterrania commented, lopping her arm once more around Marlin's.

"Maybe." He replied, also feeling quite hopeful about their chances as the doors to District 4 closed behind them.

Ok, here is the short version.

Last semester of college was very rough for me and not easy at all. I don't wanna get into it so much, but I just had a lot on my plate and I think I have it figured out now. I'm going to try writing some every week to help me deal more with a busy schedule (I'm now in Law School) so I'm hoping to update this story more. If there's interest in it still, great because I do have an arena plan and themes in place.

Again, I am so sorry to not have updated. If you would like, review and let me know your thoughts. Thank you and again, I apologize.