Author's Note: The 300th Hunger Games, a open Syot! And a Quarter Quell.

so I previously had some extra info on here but it has been moved to my profile so the fic doesn't get reported I'm not moving the tribute form there b/c all of them are submitted but I will move the sponsoring stuff okay thanks reader!

"Do you have something special planned this year?" President Tessa curtly asks.

"Of course, ma'im. I have a special arena that'll challenge these tributes very much," says the Head Gamemaker Maximillion Articulate.

"And the ratings will go up? Last year was a disappointment, with Carter. The rating went way down when all the regulars joined together and turned on the careers. Then they refused to kill!" Tessa yells outrageously, then chuckles. "Well, the mutts got it going. Ha. So, this better be good."

"Yes, of course, ma'im."

"Don't call me that anymore. Call me... President Tessa. Ma'im is sooo last year."

"Of course, President Tessa."

"Now, stop dilly-dallying and get to work," she says as she waves her hand at him and walks out the door.

"Yes, President Tessa."

"The twist to this year's Hunger Games is a riddle. What will you do in a place where you cannot get the necessities to survive? How will you, based on you perception. And perception can be based on your location? And how will location benefit you, or, let us say, break you down like shattering glass. Or hitting you with a rock? Changing location, perception, and chance of survival can be easy like a snap, or hard. Those who are smart enough to figure this out may be smart enough, brave enough, and strong enough, to survive this arena. Who will you need most, you, or others? And how much time do you have before it all...blows?" President Tessa reads off a card in a commanding voice to Panem.