BAHAAHAH GOT YA FOOLS! THIS AIN'T NO AUTHORS NOTE, YA SCRUBS! Eheheh, just kidding. Read on, my friends!

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Obsidian Gold, 18 – District 1 Male (Submitted by Danny Takuto)

"AAAAND 500!"

I straighten my arms and push the barbell back into place, sitting up from the bench. Five-hundred reps, the weights set at fifty pounds; that is my usual morning workout. Wiping sweat from my brow, I take in a deep breath; "Man, I'm thirsty." I say quietly.

Standing up and stretching my stiff legs, I glance around the basement. Spread throughout the dimly lit area are various training equipment—treadmills, medicine balls, weight racks and the like. At a much wider end, a long mirror runs along the wall—so that I could watch myself while sparring or shadowboxing, so I can always know what I do and what I can do. I really look as if I'm not to be considered much of a threat: I'm shorter than most people from my District (I look more like a sixteen-year-old than an eighteen-year-old) and the lack of muscle definition in my body. Some others take me lightly because of the way I have my hair—it's dark blue, like a sapphire, and in a buzz cut; the people who doubt me because of that are among the people I enjoy taking down the most. I'm still in my workout clothes—a purplish tank top with grey gym shorts. I'll have to change before the Reapings.

I grin fiercely at my mirror self. "Get ready, Capitol. I hope you have some good fighters this year… because Obsidian Gold is coming. And soon… everyone will know that I am a force to be reckoned with."

("YEAH! TOO BAD YOU'RE A BIG NEEEEERD~" slurs Ivre, far away in the Capitol, to which Ian yells back, "WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU EVEN TALKING ABOUT?!")

Elizabeth Grace "Belle" Morgan, 16 – District 1 Female (Submitted by Rosemarie Benson)

I quietly pull a dusty book from a large wooden shelf, gently blowing some dust off of the faded leather cover. It's still a little rough to make out, so I use my faded lavender t-shirt to wipe it ever-so-softly. "The Epic of Gilgamesh," I breathe out softly, smiling a little.

"Find something, Belle?" a pair of slender arms wrap around my torso, and I feel her warm breath on my neck. My smile widens at the sound of her Russian accent. I turn my head slightly and see the smiling face of my girlfriend, Anya Petrov. Our shared love of archaeology and all things ancient brought us together, as it is now.

"Yeah—it's a really, really old copy of Gilgamesh," I say happily, brushing aside some of my red hair.

Recently we had found an abandoned old warehouse used by the Capitol, and though its full purpose is unknowable, we can only assume that it was at the very least storage; although one can only wonder why they would have so many old treasures and artifacts in here…

"Let's crack it open," Anya says immediately, releasing me from her embrace. I nod gently and brush my hand over the rough leather before opening it slowly, careful not to tear any of the desiccated pages. The print of the first page, though faded and dusty, is legible enough, written deliberately in cursive from what appears to be a fountain pen. She chuckles slightly and says, "I've never seen one in this condition before. This place really is a treasure trove, huh?"

"Yeah… it's wonderful," I say wistfully, taking a deep breath; then I begin to cough violently, having accidentally inhaled some dust. Anya giggles slightly, knowing exactly what happened; this isn't the first time, if you must know!

Anya hands me a canvas bag and I place the book inside gingerly. I look at my wristwatch and sigh audibly. "It looks like we'll have to wait to finish up that shelf, Anya. I need to be home to change."

She kisses my cheek and nods. "Alright. Papa will be expecting me home as well," and together we walk out of the building, canvas bag in hand.

Obsidian Gold, 18 – District 1 Male (Submitted by Danny Takuto)

Eagerly I wait in the line for eighteen year old males, struggling to keep my excitement in check. After I finished my workout I took a steamy shower, then changed into my reaping outfit: a dark charcoal-coloured suit with a blue tie and black dress shoes. I put some gel into my hair and tamed it a bit, running a comb through it quickly, and then, myself not being one for vanity, I simply said, "Screw it!" and went to the Reapings.

Without any struggle, I permitted the Peackeepers to take my blood sample. Upon reaching my spot in the line, I made polite, though not too immersive conversation with the boys beside me. They were nice enough, though musclebound morons—they'd have no shot here.

Elizabeth Grace "Belle" Morgan, 16 – District 1 Female (Submitted by Rosemarie Benson)

I stand indifferently in the line for sixteen-year-olds, chatting with Anya and a few other girls. The entire square is decked out to the max, as it always is; decorations hang from buildings, strung across the streets and adorning windows and lampposts. Such blood-sport disgusts me; but I suppose that I'll have to call myself a hypocrite for what I'm about to do. Anya's been trying to talk me out of it, but since then she has given in, knowing well enough that when I am set in my ways nothing will change them.

The District's escort, a very flamboyant man named Carter, skips out onto the stage with an aura of pep that washes over us like a poisonous cloud. His long curly white hair bounces with every skip, and his teeth shine a brilliant white. When he steps up to the microphone he says in a very girlish voice, "Hello District One!" and a cheer rises up like a peal of thunder. "Welcome to the Reapings for the Eighty-seventh annual HUNGER GAMES~!"

Screams and cheers echo like battle-cries from ancient wars, and Carter flashes a blinding smile. "WONDERFUL! That spirit, I loooove it! Now without further ado, I shall begin the Reapings!" he totters over to a pair of glass bowls on separate podiums and places a white glove onto his hand; he dives into a sea of paper and withdraws clutching a slip.

"For the girls, we have Rose Tyler…" he begins, but a chorus of, "I VOLUNTEER!" and a bit of a scuffle interrupts him. Whilst all those girls are fighting, I take advantage of the fact that I'm smaller than most of them to weave through the crowd and into the centre lane.

"I volunteer." I say calmly, making my way up toward the stage and up the stairs. Carter grins at me; "Quite clever," he says to me, "taking advantage of that brawl. Good to have you aboard." He offers me his hand, which I shake indifferently.

"Might I know the name of our new tribute?" he asks serenely.

I nod and respond, "Elizabeth Morgan."

Carter smiles and announces into the microphone, "Elizabeth Morgan is our volunteer!"

There are no cheers; looks of confusion and a bit of anger are the prevalent expressions throughout the crowd. Anya looks saddened. However, there are a few potential tribute males who look impressed at my bravery; there's no doubt that there are more qualified girls, but the fact that I volunteered must have earned some sort of respect from them.

"And now, let us find our boy!" Carter calls, trotting back over to the glass bowls.

Obsidian Gold, 18 – District 1 Male (Submitted by Danny Takuto)

"And now, let us find our boy!"

Alright Obsidian, don't let them get the best of you… you didn't get yourself all fancied up for nothing…

Carter's hand dips into a different glass bowl and pulls out another paper slip, off of which he reads, "Benedict Cumberbatch…" and yet another ruckus sets off. There's a particularly intense struggle around me, and seeing as I'm one of the shorter people of my age group I push through with little trouble, slugging a couple of idiots right in the face, knocking them to the ground. There's a 17-year-old who I know slightly—his name is Uncle Ruckus (no relation), and yes, his first name is, in fact, Uncle—that tries to push me aside, but a quick elbow drops him. Proudly I stride up to the stage amidst a sea of cheers.

"Quite impressive!" says Carter loudly. "What is your name, young man?"

"Obsidian Gold," I say gruffly; I grab his microphone and turn to the crowd. "District One, look upon the face of this years' victor! Look upon it, and tremble with pride!"

"Eheheh, yes, well that's nice," Carter says, a bit off-put that I took his spotlight; he snatches the microphone back and finishes, "There you have them, District One! Your tributes!" a loud roar of applause breaks out and above the din Carter calls, "C'mon you two! Do a little twirl for them!"

Elizabeth and I share a look and then at the same time kick Carter in the shin, bringing him to his knees; a small chuckle passes between us but there's no sign of much emotion nor empathy.

After a bit of a speech by Carter, he takes us to the Justice Building, which is a tall, beautiful building adorned with all sorts of decorations for the Reaping. Meh; personally I've never understood the appeal, just people murdering each other for riches.

Don't get me wrong, the money's all good on my end. Hell, it makes it more appealing; the violence is only part of the deal. However, I've never seen why people get so crazy about it, other than placing bets and all. Elizabeth and I ascend the elevator in silence, though offering each other a small smile for a moment. When the elevator stops and opens up, we are ushered into separate rooms.

The rooms themselves are nothing special, for the most part austere with only a bit of tacky furniture. The first visit I get is from my mother, Cherry; she and I are very much alike in appearance, including original hair colour: naturally we are both brown-haired. She has a look in her eyes that is a mixture of pride and sadness. "Obsidian," she says, embracing me.

"Hello mother," I reply softly, returning the hug. "I don't suppose father is coming?"

"No, but he sends his love." How ironic; bastard's probably out shagging some Capitol chick. A few years ago he and my mother divorced, but I was required to stay with him for some bullcrap reason. Either way, my mother has always been there for me. Slowly she takes my hand. "Obsidian, I do not have much time, so I will make it short; I believe in you, my son; take this as your token."

She places something into my hand, and I close my fingers around it; she kisses my cheek and leaves. Slowly I open my hand once more and see that it was her wedding ring; she hasn't worn this in years.

The door opens once more, and the small form of my best friend Violet rushes in. She's short (even shorter than myself) and slim with pale skin and dark blue hair; she hugs me tightly and looks up at me with pale eyes brimming with tears. "Obsidian…" she says softly, burying her face against my chest; tentatively I embrace her as well, if only to bring her comfort. "Why?"

"…I have to prove myself, Violet," I respond quietly, "the name of Gold has to be restored, and I'm going to do it." I look down at her and notice a small blush working its way onto her face. "What are you doing here anyway? Shouldn't you be in the Capitol?"

"F-father came to place bets," she replies shyly, "and I c-couldn't not say goodbye… not without t-telling you…" she trails off.

"Telling me what?" I ask after a moment, rubbing her back gently.

"Obsidian, I… I love you!" she says in a burst of unusual confidence.

"E-eh?" I say quickly, taken aback at her revelation. Looking back, though… it does kind of make sense; she's always been really shy around me, blushing… but I've never taken note of this, not until now. Though I must admit that I've never thought of her in that way, I can't deny that she is cute…

Back in the Capitol, short intermission

Ivre is watching the turnout of this goodbye session through a system of cameras rigged throughout every Justice Building in Panem. He is cringing quite obviously and his faithful sidekick Ian—er, pardon, Zero—is taking notice.

"Is something wrong, sir?" Ian asks.

"No, Zero, everything is fine," Ivre says sarcastically. "It's only the real-world version of my most hated pairing coming true!"

"What do you mean sir?"

"JUST LOOK AT THAT GIRL! Does she not look like Hinata Hyuuga from Naruto?!" the president cries, resting his head against his hands. "And I'm pretty sure she said the exact. Same. Words. DAMMIT!"

"What's so bad about that? Naruto and Hinata are great together…" Ian trails off at the glare Ivre is giving him.

"Zero, if you value your life you will never say such blasphemy. Ever. Again."

Er… um… yeah, back at D1, still with Obsidian

"I love you, Obsidian-kun!" says Violet, her eyes sparkling.

(In the Capitol, Ivre brims with anger; "OH COME THE F*CK ON! WHAT THE HELL IS THIS BULLSH*T!")

"Violet… I'm not sure whether it is love I feel for you or not," I say softly, looking her in the eyes. "But I will have a definite answer for you… when I come back." Leaning my head forward, I gently press my lips to hers.

Elizabeth Grace "Belle" Morgan, 16 – District 1 Female (Submitted by Rosemarie Benson)

I suppose Obsidian seems nice enough; we've spoken a few times at school, though I doubt he remembers much of it. But, ah, where were we? Ah yes; the goodbyes. Mother and father, they were quite brief, as father had Peacekeeper duties to see to and mother did not specify though I knew it must be important. But Anya…

She comes in with tears in her eyes, and rushes me and nearly tackles me to the ground. "Why'd you have to do this, Belle?!" she says softly.

I shrug slightly and say with a small chuckle, "It was probably going to happen sooner or later, and I want to prove my worth to the livestock of this District."

"This isn't funny." She frowns. "You could die!"

"I'm not going to die."

"Did you see Obsidian?! And let us not think of the other tributes who will be coming!"

"I do not doubt that there will be others who are stronger," I say confidently, "though I will not accept death; not now, not ever. Not until I return victorious."

"You are really serious about this." She sounds defeated. I nod gently, and she pulls me back to my feet. She digs in her leather purse and pulls out something; it is my notebook! "You left this at the warehouse. Record your experience. Use it as your token."

I take it gingerly, flipping through it, reminiscing slightly and laughing at the amount of notes in it. "I'll have to find a few free pages," I respond, taking her hand and squeezing it. "But I will. And I will record the moment of my victory."

She brings her hand up and caresses my cheek gently. "I love you."

"I love you too."

AAAAANNNNND THAT'S A WRAP EVERYBODY! Y'ALL CAN GO HOME NOW!

Crew: WOO! 3 day weekend, f*ck yeah! *Everybody starts taking away all the set and props* Later Chase! Later, actors!

Bye guys, have a good weekend… jeez. Sometimes I hate being the director—especially when I have to deal with those outbursts from Ivre.

My lovable Tortoise sidekick: B-but Ivre's pairings bias are based off of yourself…

Yes but it's still annoying nonetheless. Either way, let's get to the actual goodbyes.

Tortoise: Right.

So yeah, welcome back everyone! I wanted to post this as a bit of a teaser as for what is to come—but yes, this is a full chapter by itself. I hope you all enjoyed, and Danny-kun and Rosemarie-san, I hope the two of you enjoyed how I wrote your characters! Tell me if I got any inaccuracies to correct in the next few chapters.

Anyways for the questions: Jace-kun, Danny-kun, it's good to hear from you two, you have no idea how much I actually smiled at seeing your reviews.

Jace-kun: She's great, thanks for asking! But I promise, I'll try to get the chapters out quicker, I don't like making people cry :'(

Tortoise: Then you should stop looking at people…

You be quiet, you damned reptile.

Tortoise: HELP HELP, I'M BEING REPRESSED!

Danny-kun: I am most certainly alive, it was merely that college was killing me mate, needed a bit of a break from everything—and I did what I could to get rid of that dungeon, although I think my sister may have taken the stuff and is planning to use them against me. (p.s. I'm in there right now, send help) But be happy, the first we see of the tributes is from ya boy Obsidian!

Anyways, take care, brush yo hair, I'll see ya when I see ya, peace~

Chase~