ttg4:

 Wednesday, April 11, 2012

If you would like your name to be put in to be reaped for the Fourth Annual Tumblr Games, please send your Tesserae Form » here «.

Name: 
Age (all ages, including 18+, are eligible):
Gender:
Email:
Your top three District choices and briefly explain why you might belong in them:
A link to a recent photo of your whole face for your Games ID:

Tesserae registration will close at 9PM EST on Wednesday, April 18th.

The names will be drawn at 3PM EST on Friday, April 20th in your District square, so be prompt and ready to accept the challenge that lies ahead of you. Once reaped, tributes will have 24 hours to accept their positions by sending a message to our ask page » here «.

Remember to look your best! Reapings will be viewed live across all of Panem.

If you’re debating on signing up or not and the resulting fame and fortune isn’t enough to convince you, remember that tesserae registration will provide extra grain and oil rations for your family for the upcoming year. But only one tesserae registration per family.

If you have any other questions, please send them » here «, and make sure it has not been answered yet » here «.

- Your Gamemakers, A, K, and F

Remember that besides the fortune and glory that comes with being victor, the Tumblr Games really are a great way to get involved in the Hunger Games fandom and meet other people that share your interests! If you would like your name to be put in to be reaped for the TriQuell, please send your Tesserae Form » here «.

Name: 
Age: 
Gender: 
Email:
Your top three District choices and briefly explain why you might belong in them:
A link to a recent photo of your whole face for your Games ID:

Tesserae registration will close at 9PM (eastern) on Friday, January 20th.

For more information regarding reaping click » here « and remember that is truly is an honor to represent your District in these Games. Don’t let the opportunity slip through your fingers!

Attention all citizens of Panem! You’ve watched THGYear 1 and now both Tumblr Games 1 and 2! The time has now come once again for the Reaping! Do you have what it takes to put on a show for all of Panem and survive the arena? Please report immediately to the nearest Tesserae registration for the Triquell and sign up immediately! Reaping Day is imminent. 

May the odds be ever in your favor.

THE BEGINNING:

On that morning, an eerie feeling laid over the arena. Five were left, and soon there would be none. One by one, they would have to pick each other off. No matter how strong they all were, only one would endure what was about to come. Sand began to slowly encompass the arena, then, began to change pace. The wind picked up, and with it the sand did too, creating a deadly sandstorm that whipped around the edges of the arena, moving closer to the center at a rapid pace. From there, each tribute had been given a path, a path leading them all together. Soon after, Amaris, Arly, Tyler, Sam and Sheridan were face to face at the golden horn the games had all began around. The storm continued to rage around them, leaving a perfect circle in it’s wake. 

Tyler and Amaris stood side by side, having formed a temporary alliance. They figured if two of them were there, they’d have a larger chance at survival. Unfortunately for them, Sam and Arly had also been onto that strategy. Sheridan, on the other hand, was alone. Going alone versus two other pairs was not scary for the young career. She knew she could take them if she could just get the right chance to do so. She knew she had to make her move, and it had to happen soon. 

Sheridan was starting to attack. Since there was no running, it was time to simply kill as ruthlessly as possible. As soon as she moved so did the rest of the circle, shifting so that the District Four girl was in the middle of them.  She wasn’t daft though, and stood so her sides were to either of them, so no one could have the advantage of being behind her back. 

While Amaris was oblivious to what the boy from D6 could do, it seemed him and Arly were in a loose alliance. They were to Sheridan’s left while Amaris and Tyler were to her right. The cornucopia was behind Arly and Tyler, along with the now . Amaris’s eyes shot around the area, trying to mark off any other important landmarks that could change the situation at hand. No, that was it. Sheridan was poised, ready to strike at the first to come near, her spear in the ready with the glaive as a back up, strapped to her back securely. 

If anything, she knew they could use the weight of the weapons the girl had to an advantage. Amaris’s backpack was empty save for the anti-venom, her items neatly on her body as she’d last kept them. Knife in her boot, net tied up at her hip, mace in one hand, fire stoker in the other. She swapped her vest out for the one she’d taken off of Casey since it wasn’t ripped, and wouldn’t let the others know she had a wound on her shoulder. It could possibly confuse Sheridan too why her outfit was suddenly fine. 

It was clear they were at a standstill, the first to get close to Sheridan would be pierced through with the spear. All were working out there attacks in their minds, carefully planning the deaths of those around them. Finally Amaris decided to move. She knew that with the mace she would be slower than desired against Sheridan’s spear. It was time to be rid of it; for the moment. With her stronger arm, which was thankfully her right one, the redhead aimed and tossed the mace violently at Sheridan. She missed, but that wasn’t what was important. It was that Sheridan focused in on her, leaving the other three time to make their own moves. The blonde had sidestepped, the mace falling into the sand next to her. 

Immediately after she threw the mace though, Tyler was moving in. Sheridan flipped her attention to him, before moving again to try and pay attention to the other two creeping in towards her as well. She began to spin the spear like a baton, flipping it around herself as well to make a secure barrier that could end up pointing at any which direction. 

Amaris hadn’t used her net the entire situation. She’d previously found it to be worthless, it wasn’t as if she could really do anything when normally she was outnumbered. Now, however, was the right time to use it. She grabbed the neatly wound up metal mesh net, weights dangling down from the corners, and tossed it. As the wind blew at her back, it helped unwind the net. The large ten by ten net hit the blonde, spear tangling up with it as it spun. The weights dropped, making Sheridan stagger back. The additional weight on her back of her supplies was enough to force her to be completely off balance.

It only took a few moments of the spear being incapacitated for everyone to make their full attack. Arly and Sam grabbed the weights hanging off the ends of the net from Sheridan’s back, tugging them tightly in a diagonal fashion to completely ensnare her. The career fell back, the spear making minor room to move, but not enough to successfully do anything yet. Maybe the four would become distracted long enough with each other that she could kill them after getting free. Tyler and Amaris unfortunately knew better than that after the previous day, and as Arly and Sam readied to battle two on two, Tyler stepped up. His axe defensive should they ignore what he was about to say.

“Her first,” He frowned, pointing the axe at Sheridan. 

The two stopped, nodding and frowned, raising their weapons to execute the helpless girl. Amaris moved as Tyler spoke, picking up the mace from where it had fallen. “Let us get the final kill with her,” She scowled, staring downward with malice,” She caused us more agony than anything.” The looks on the other two tributes faces was not exactly amusement, but they allowed it. Tyler dragged Sheridan up by her hair so she was half standing, but not quite able to get a good grip on standing. The blonde shouted in aggravation, trying to squirm away, out of his grip.

“You shouldn’t have turned your back on me,” The redhead scowled, tip her fire stokers blade against Sheridan’s back. “Shouldn’t have betrayed Elena,” Tyler hissed, his knife out at the same spot on the careers back as. The two simultaneously shoved the blades into her back and into her heart, killing her. Sheridan coughed, freezing in pain, before coughing again, blood filling her lungs. For additional measures, and because they didn’t want to be left out, Arly fluidly slit Sheridan’s neck with her blade, Sam moving  in to shove his own  into her stomach. Fearing being the last standing near the opposite pair, the boy detached from the corpse and backed away about slightly. As she did she put the fire stoker into her backpack, pulling the knife out of her boot.

THE CASCADE:

Tyler then stepped up to the attack, figuring out one of his own. Arly seemed more resistant to give up anymore knives and Sam only had one. They had nothing to spare, they would have to get in close to fight. Tyler on the other hand, had at least two to spare. He threw the axe towards the two. For some reason Arly had been in front of Sam when she attacked, and upon seeing the in coming axe ducked out of the way with barely a shout in time to warn Sam. Sam was taller though, and could see over the girl. He stumbled back to move away from the attack himself, but still caught the axe in his upper thigh. It looked as if the power district wasn’t exactly adept with weaponry either. 

Seeing a window for an attack as he lost his longer range weapons, Arly ran to attack Tyler. In counter Amaris ran to attack Sam. The boy was already leaning on one leg from the axe, barely managing to stand. Sam pulled the weapon out in an impressive act of strength. He swung the axe viciously at her, trying to still seem threatening. It was hard at this rate since it became clear how much effort simply went into staying upright. He threw the weapon after he thought she was close enough, but as he attempted to put weight on his leg to throw, his aim became drastically off, and he missed the career by a foot. It landed somewhere in the sand back towards Arly and Tyler. Sam couldn’t manage to stay standing and kneeled, knife out and readied to defend himself until his last breath. 

She simply swung the mace with both hands, flinching with the grit of her teeth at the pain in her shoulder, taking Sam’s hands clean off, the knife going with them. The tall young man barely had a chance to stare in horror at the missing limbs before the mace found its place in his skull as she swung again. The victors back home often expressed the sound of cracking skulls like popping melons. At this point she could agree with them. 

Seeing her last ally landing in front of her, Arly couldn’t help but think of Nate, and how she’d so willingly taken his life. It wasn’t regret that she felt, though; it was envy. How could he make her feel so intent on killing when her two real enemies stood in front of her now? As she stepped into the clearing, she could feel both Tyler and Amaris’s gazes fall upon her. She couldn’t hesitate now; every second mattered. 

Amaris stepped forward, wielding the mace like it was a bat back in the training room. She swung it down, aiming for the District 8 girl’s head, but Arly had something else in mind. The girl was small and quick, a huge advantage when it came to the bulky mace. The mace slammed down into the sand beside her as she ducked to her right, and she heard her attacker let out a low grunt. Pulling up the mace to strike again, Amaris didn’t have time to react to the fist that she saw coming towards her jaw.

Tyler watched in awe as the small girl knocked the Career to the ground. ‘There has to be something we’re not seeing,’ Tyler thought, eyeing Amaris as she wrestled around with Arly, reaching for the mace while the smaller girl reached for the now-dropped axe. ‘There’s no way Arly could take her down.’ And then it hit him. As Arly thrashed around on Amaris, her nails dug into the career’s shoulder and Amaris let out a yelp. Tyler sprinted towards the fight and slid to a stop near the fallen weapons. Amaris noticed her ally, but Arly either didn’t or simply did not have time to look up. Whatever her reason, Tyler knew better than to care. He positioned himself over the girls. Amaris smirked, and Arly only had time to look up and see the boy’s face as he brought his foot down. A cannon sounded after a hushed ‘pop’ and Tyler removed his boot from the girl’s throat.

Amaris’s body went limp.

THE FINALE:

Arly froze, sure that the boot had been intended for her. She didn’t have time to contemplate the boy’s intentions though as he kicked her face, sending her sprawling onto the sand behind her. Ignoring the blood that she was sure was pouring from her nose and wherever else, Arly scrambled back—the fallen mace of her adversary could mean victory. Tyler, however, didn’t plan on letting that happen. He lunged forward onto the girl, and using his weight, flicked his ankle around the side of the girl, rolling her onto her front in seconds. In what seemed like the same motion, he slid his hand to his belt and brought it down, impaling the back of the girl’s knee on his knife blade. 

“Arly!”

The girl’s attention instantly turned to the source of her district partner’s voice. Arly withdrew the throwing knife from the back of her knee, hesitating before tossing the weapon into Tyler. She could only hope to hit her target; judging by the wince he’d let out, she knew he would soon be an easy kill. 

“We’re almost there, Arls. We’re almost home.”

Arly looked from her own silver spool ring to Nathan’s. Home? She had nearly forgotten a life before the arena. Arly could vaguely recall the light scent of bitter smoke on the air…the feel of satin beneath her fingers as she piloted a single mechanical needle across a length of the fabric…the sound of her voice meshed with Nathan’s as they walked home together, singing just low enough to stay off of any Peacekeeper radars.

Home.

She was nearly there. All she had to do was kill the one person that stood in her way of getting there. She reached down into her boot, removing a few of the knives. The knives were no match in comparison to the axe, but her determination to win would make up for that. 

Arly charged at Tyler, swinging the mace for his ribcage, a well known weak spot. With a pained gasp, he stumbled backwards, but even this did not stop him; he proceeded to lodge his axe in her ankle, causing her to fall as well. His weakness, however, limited the force of the impact, and the damage was not immense. Still in the sand, Arly managed slash the knives into her opponent’s cheek. He was left with several deep gashes, each sending even more blood trickling to the crimson-dyed sand. Tyler was left capable of nothing but a miserable, guttural moan as he unsuccessfully attempted to rise. 

“We’re almost home.”

Nearly dragging herself to his side, Arly raised her hands high, a knife held in each, her hands shaking slightly. She took one knife, and slammed it into his chest, the other slitting his throat. She bit a lip and closed her eyes, and continued to repeat the motion into his chest. 

The cannon fired.

“We did it, Nat…we’re going home!” Though Arly felt as if the battle was not yet over, she knew she had won. She, a victor? The thought was absurd!

As the buzz of a hovercraft loomed overhead, Nathan offered a hand, which she gladly accepted.

No, that wasn’t Nathan’s hand. It was…a rope? The end of a ladder? 

“Nathan?”, Arly called out, her hand immediately fluttering to her silver spool ring.

“…CONGRATULATIONS TO ARLY, THE DISTRICT 8 VICTOR OF THE SECOND ANNUAL TUMBLR GAMES!”

“But…”

Nathan was not there. He never was there, and never would be again.

The light scent of bitter smoke on the air…the feel of satin beneath her fingers as she piloted a single mechanical needle across a length of the fabric…the sound of her voice meshed with Nathan’s as they walked home together, singing just low enough to stay off of any Peacekeeper radars. 

His dark brown eyes, burning into hers as she sealed his fate in the desert sand.

She recalled a whispered conversation on the train to the Capitol as the district partners gazed out the window, side by side, they way they’d done everything as long as Arly could remember.

“We’ll win together, right?”

“Of course. We’ll never leave each other alone, Nat.”

As she reached for the ladder, shaken, with a trembling grip, Arly realized how terribly alone she was…how much the Games had stolen from her. Her sanity, her youth, Nathan…

At least she was alive.

But for a victor of the Games, to be alive wasn’t much.

The End.

Brett and Sheridan vs. Amaris vs. Tyler and Elena

As Brett and Sheridan trekked through the Desert, they noticed an eerie silence had fallen over the arena. There were only eight tributes left in the arena. Soon, their paths had crossed anothers. Tyler and Elena slowly came into view. The tributes all took a good look at each other, taking in their opponents. 

Coming in from over the dunes, Amaris sat, watching with baited breath as the two pairs closed in on each other. She tried to hide herself, but wasn’t able to mask herself well enough. The four looked up, and they had spotted her. “How about we make sure we get her out of the equation,” one of the tributes murmured in the desert. Soon enough, Amaris had turned, and started off with a sprint. The four bolted after her, eyes set on their prey.

Amaris, however, had something else set in her mind other than escaping. She had the feeling that the other tributes would not see her as the threat she truly was. She was small, and showed many signs of weakness in the arena, but she knew her weapons and how to use them to better herself. She knew the other tributes had weapons, specifically the spears. She knew if she ran in a straight line, the well trained girl from District Four would be able to get a clean shot at her. She began to run in awkward diagonals, almost hoping another would catch up to her.

Sheridan chased after Amaris, holding the bag of supplies and her spears close to her. She couldn’t keep up as well as Brett could, and kept her eyes on the pair from District 5 as they raced after. They weren’t as well trained in the running as the careers were, but they managed to keep up enough. Sheridan knew that throwing her spear at the girl while she ran in diagonals would be a waste of a weapon, one she may never get back again. She knew better than to throw it now. She watched as Brett closed in on the small girl from District 2, and she knew that she’d be gone soon.

Brett ran towards Amaris with speed, knowing he could easily outrun her, and pulled on the clawed gloves he’d managed to get a hold of. Abruptly, the small girl from 2 stopped, spun at her heels, and ducked down to the floor. She put an arm in front of her face to keep herself safe of any impact from Brett’s fall. He flew down into the sand, and sat a moment, trying to recollect his thoughts. He wasn’t injured, but he was caught off guard.

In the moment he’d sat on the ground, Amaris was already up. He’d begun to pull himself off the ground, but soon Amaris took her fire stoker, and forced it into his thigh. He let out a grunt rather than a scream, and she removed it from his leg, leaving a gaping hole. She knew she’d need to be quick about this kill, that in only tens of seconds, she’d have the other three to deal with. She took her mace, and quickly brought it down over his head. It’d made a dull nose, a crunch and a pop, then she quickly pulled the mace up and out, and began her run once more.

Sheridan watched as Amaris took Brett as her kill, and she tried to hold herself together. She wasn’t going to grieve, as she knew what needed to be done. She pulled a spear out, aimed, and threw it at Amaris, slicing her shoulder. It stuck in the sand 15 feet or so ahead of them and Amaris dropped to her feet, letting out a piercing shriek. She needed to stand up, but felt herself getting dizzy from the pain. She drew in a deep breath and brought herself to her feet.

Sheridan leaped at the girl, pulling at her hair to get hold of her. She saw Amaris had a wound in the shoulder, and she knew better than to not take advantage of the situation. She reaches a hand into the wound, pulling at pieces of the muscle and tissues, ripping her insides apart. Amaris bit back a scream and shook the girl off of her. She knew that if she were to live, she’d need to ignore the pain and fight through it. 

Tyler and Elena slowed their pace, watching as the fight went down. They slowly began to walk into the area. For now, they knew that Sheridan wasn’t going to betray them and attack. Or so they thought. Sheridan, knowing that they didn’t have the greatest of weapons, saw that Amaris wasn’t going to fight her back or have the chance to get away. She stood up, and grabbed ahold of her weapons. She clutched the spear in her hand, and looked the two over. The connection they’d all had in the training room before the arena was now gone. It meant nothing to her. It was only one more thing that would keep her from returning home.

Elena stepped in front of Tyler. She knew that Sheridan had the upper hand in this fight, but she was not going to let that hold her back. She gripped the awl tightly, and looked at her opponent. She knew that with whatever she’d do, Tyler would have her back. 

Elena drew in a deep breath, and knew she had no time to waste. She sped toward Sheridan, and readied her awl to drive straight into Sheridan’s chest. She had her eyes locked on her target and the only thought on her mind was how great it would look for her to take down a career. In her pursuit, Sheridan did something that confused her momentarily. The career thrust her spear into the sand beneath her and shook it a bit, checking if it was sturdy. What was she doing? It didn’t matter, if Sheridan was going to render her spear useless, it only benefited her. She closed in, only yards away, then feet, and finally was close enough to pull her awl into the air, ready to drive it into the girl, when suddenly Sheridan grabbed the shaft of the spear and hoisted herself into the air with all her upper body strength, throwing her legs out toward the District 5 girl. The heels of her boots made direct contact with the girl’s chest, slamming hard into her and knocking the wind out of her. She fell onto her back, gasping for air.

Sheridan pounced onto the girl, drawing her dagger. Elena let her eyes dart around, trying to find Tyler. He was nowhere to be found. She muttered under her breath. He was supposed to be there for her, but at the end of the games, everyone is on their own. 

Sheridan drove the dagger down toward her full force, and Elena had one final burst of energy, throwing Sheridan’s hand to the side as her arms gave in. The dagger drove down into the sand and Elena took the opportunity to slam her fist into the side of Sheridan’s face, knocking the girl off of her and onto her side. Elena pushed herself into a seated position, grabbing for her awl once more. Sheridan wasn’t down for long though, and quickly snatched the knife off her belt and swung it around at Elena, slicing the girl’s stomach.

Elena screamed in horror as blood gushed from the wound, and she put her left hand over the gash, trying to keep the blood from flowing. She met eyes with Sheridan again as the girl from District 4 got to her feet, glaring daggers at her, and Sheridan thrust her spear back out of the sand as she came at Elena. “You put up a good fight, sweetheart,” Sheridan said tauntingly as the tip of her spear pointed at Elena, “but looks like this is the end of the road.”

The spear flew through the air and slammed into the wound she had just created, causing Elena to sputter blood from her mouth. Her eyes were wide with shock and she wearily looked down to the spear in her stomach, and then over to Tyler. Her partner. The one she thought she could trust. He had left her in the fight against Kyle as well, but he had come back for her. Why didn’t he come back this time? She fell backward, her arms dropping limp to her sides, and the cannon fired.

Sheridan turned, looking to find the other tributes to finish them off as she had Elena, but neither of them were anywhere to be found. They were smart to flee, she thought. Too smart. Sheridan grabbed the weapons she’d had came with, picked up her feet, and began to trek through the desert, in search for the remaining tributes.

Sam

Sam knew The Second Annual Tumblr Games were coming to a close soon, and he needed to find a way to survive. He knew that this far in the games the other tributes had better weapons than he, and that worried him. He needed to find an ally soon if he were to survive. He began looking for other tributes, but to no avail. Soon, he decided he wouldn’t be finding them in the Rainforest. He decided to go Further to the East. He knew he needed to find a specific person, he had them on his mind. Soon, he approached it in the Desert. He watched from afar as he saw a fight, he knew what was going to come next. He waited until the fight had finished before stepping, walking towards the silhouette of the tribute, watching as the orange painted and faded from the sky. 

Nathan vs. Arly

A descent into madness is never immediate, but in the few days one spends in the arena, time is wasted on nothing.

As day fades to dusk over the Eastern Desert, District 8’s female falls victim to the plague that is paranoia. Time spent in the arena has undoubtedly changed all eight of the remaining opponents, but not even Arly is aware that the biggest change can be seen in the most unassuming tribute: herself.

Herself…the only person she was able to rely on fully. The more she pondered it, the clearer her thoughts grew. She could not read the thoughts of the boy trekking before her, his long hair gently tousled by heavy, warm gusts of wind. For all she knew, he could be planning her demise. Maybe, his dark locks hid a sly grin, a preface to her early death. Who was this so-called friend and protector to believe he could steal life from someone who had barely experienced it, cramped in the tiniest of factories to devote her years to thoughtless stitching?

“Arly?”

As her ally turned on his heel in an about-face, time seemed to come to a standstill. The younger District 8 tribute could feel something slipping…was it her sanity? Her trust in the boy barely two feet before her? Before she had the chance to grab it in its plunder, it slid away into some forgotten abyss. The girl refused to take even the tiniest of risks.

Nathan was going to murder her. For every millisecond she stood, the sun seemed to beat down heavier, convincing her of what she had already assumed to be true.

“We should stop to eat. Grab the jerky and some water.”

“Sure.” Arly could not help but grin, the anticipation of her first kill twisting her stomach into a condition that didn’t exactly agree with a pre-murder supper. Her own reaction sparked a grin from Nathan. “How naive of him,” Arly thought, “to truly believe I’m excited about a meal!” Come to think of it, this boy was not the only person who assumed her to be innocent. The entirety of Panem saw nothing but a slight, young factory worker, unable to fend for herself without this…protector.

Arly withdrew the jerky and their water supply from her tan pack, containing every item the District 8 tributes had to their names in the arena. How foolish he had been to allow her the upper hand! Of course, the boy would never have expected a defeat such as this…and that was quite an advantage on her part, was it not? 

Silently, she tossed the unimpressive meal to her counterpart, who caught both items with ease. As he sat down to ration the little means they had, Arly sank down next to her ally, barely able to feel the heat of the desert sand through her rush of pure adrenaline. If there was a perfect time to make her move, it was undoubtedly in that very moment. As their pack was shoved strategically behind the pair, Arly’s hand wove around supplies to grasp the handle of a single throwing knife.

“Jerky?”

“Sure.”

Just as the food was exchanged, the heel of Arly’s free hand collided with the lower back of her ally’s skull at an angle, triggering a major pressure point. The older tribute was immobilized on impact, falling back into the sand as food was scattered around the scene. His brown eyes searched hers in a panic, undeniably wondering why their years of mutual protection were ultimately meaningless. To watch someone figure out their death is imminent is quite strange.

Arly’s jaw unhooked, but words refused to materialize. What do you say to your dying best friend…your first victim? 

“I’m sorry.”

With that, the District 8 girl traced a jagged line of red on the throat of her ally, staring into his hopeless, horrified eyes as they slowly went blank.

Speech became impossible yet again as something unidentifiable rushed back into her features - humanity? That trust she so quickly abandoned?

With a trembling, weak grip, the girl reached for her ally’s limp hand to do nothing more than pull the arena token, a silver thimble ring, from his finger and slide it onto her own, then proceeding to transfer her own matching ring to him. It was a ceremony planned out on the lengthy ride to the capitol, a way to be sure they’d always have a piece of each other.

The District 8 girl nearly stumbled over to find shelter in a nearby cavern before noticing a figure in the distance…and not just any figure. He was unmistakable: her long lost ally silhouetted against the orange-red sunset.

“Sam!”

Maybe, she did need an ally…and her bloodlust had subsided. For the moment.

Sheridan and Brett

Sheridan and Brett feel hunger gnawing at them. Their last meal wasn’t enough to hold the two Careers over long enough. They weren’t used to hunger, coming from some of the richest districts. Sheridan nudged Brett playfully as they sat in the tree and shouted “Wake up!” at him. Brett, startled, nearly falls out of the tree, but gets a grip on it. “Damn it, Sher.” He mumbled, climbing back into a branch, letting himself wake up a bit. 

“I’m hungry, let’s get food.” She said, smirking a bit, hopping out of the tree with her weapons, gesturing for him to follow. He hopped down with her, and the two set off to get a meal. 

While searching for food, the two see a small silver parachute falling from the sky downwards. Upon opening it, they found a loaf of bread and a knife. The two nodded to the cameras, sharing a grateful smile, then sat down to enjoy their newfound gifts. 

Two knives, glaive, spear, dagger, brass knuckles with claws, anti-venom, bandages, bread

Amaris

Amaris, feeling herself growing weak, knew she needed food and water to survive. She looks out and sees something small moving. Carefully, she uses her net to trap it. Pulling the net back to herself, she opens it, finding a small, adorable baby turtle. She bites her lips a bit, but knows she needs it to survive. “Sorry bud,” She murmured, turning it around so it wasn’t facing her, and quickly decapitated it with her hunting knife. It was a quick death for the turtle, at the least. She held her meal in her hands, and walked to the river. She broke the shell apart, careful to separate the meat, and used the shell as a bowl. She gathered water for herself, drinking slowly to avoid getting sick, and looked back down at the bottom portion of the turtle. She looked to the Swamp around her, and saw she had no materials in her possession to begin a fire with, and let out a soft sigh. She used her knife to cut little chunks of meat off, closed her eyes, and began to eat and drink. She knew one thing, and one thing only: If she were to get home and live a lavish lifestyle of a Victor, she’d need to rough it out in the arena. She let herself relax against the base of a tree, and reminded herself how great it would be to be back home.

Hunting knife, mace, net, anti-venom, fire stoker, backpack

Tyler and Elena vs Kyle

Plop.

Elena’s eyes opened as the droplet struck her cheek. The rainforest around them looked lighter, although she was sure she had only blinked.

“You fell asleep,” Tyler said, noting the confused look on her face.

Disappointment with herself washed over her face; she was supposed to be keeping guard. But they were still alive, and she had no time for guilt in the Arena, so she quickly brushed it off. She looked at her partner who was fully awake and sitting on an adjacent branch, his back against the tree trunk. 

He held the axe in one hand and what looked like a large twig in the other. She shifted her body weight as to allow movement across the branch and made her way towards Tyler.

“A spear,” he said, admiring his carving work. “I saw James doing something like this in the training room.” 

“Good,” Elena said, taking the axe from his now outreached hand. “Looks like it’s about time we find out just what kind of food is waiting for us in this Amazon.” 

As they prepared to dismount from the tree, a glimmer caught Tyler’s eye.

“Wait,” he called out to Elena, who was already several branches under him. 

She paused in time to see her ally collect the silver parachute that had gotten stuck in the tree. Once it was secure in his hand, he followed her lead and the two landed on the mossy floor minutes later.

“Looks like we won’t have to hunt for food after all,” Elena said, smirking. Looking up at the cameras, Tyler let his eyes show their sincere appreciation as the two divvied up the bread and water.

“Good,” Tyler said between bites. “I can’t tell what this rainforest is hiding and I don’t want to be here when we find out.”

After several bites and sips of water each, the two headed out of the rainforest, following the same path that they had taken in. Upon reaching the sudden overflow of brush that signified the ending of the terrain, the two froze mid-step. Making his way into their sight, the butcher’s son from District 10 approached the stream just outside of the forest. Tyler’s hand tensed on the spear as he took a small step into the brush. Elena secured the brown satchel, now containing the bandages, awl, bread and water, around her shoulder, and tightened her grip on the axe.

“Let’s go,” Tyler said, nodding forward. Silently agreeing, she stepped behind him.

The water of the stream was cool and refreshing on his lips. He hadn’t slept much since his fight against Cara, but the chill seemed to make up for the unrest — - which was why he was relaxed and more than ready when he sees Tyler and Elena stepping through the brush to his left.

“Hey there guys,” he called, plastering a smile on his face. His charisma hadn’t fooled Cara the previous morning, but it couldn’t hurt to try and catch Tyler and Elena off guard.

“Elena,” Tyler said as they slowly closed the distance between themselves and the other boy. “Remember we had that talk about splitting up?”

“Rather than later to avoid killing each other,” she recited, not taking her eyes off of the slowly approaching boy. “Yeah, why?”

Tyler stopped and took a step backwards, attracting the attention of both other tributes. “Good luck,” the boy said to his District partner as he walked back towards the forest. His eyes never left the scene, but he couldn’t feel guilt at a moment like this. His escape meant his survival, and Elena couldn’t get in his way. Elena bit her bottom lip and took a breath. She should’ve seen this coming; she shouldn’t have let it happen at a time like this; but it did, and she had to be tough. She turned back towards Kyle, who was now only feet away. They both stopped.

Looking one another up and down, neither tribute was sure of what to make of what had just taken place. The same thoughts ran through each tribute’s mind now, though; the Arena had changed them. They weren’t just children running through a desert anymore. No, over the last few days, both had experienced the gradual transition that had led to the takeover of pure survival instinct. 

It was this instinct and this instinct alone that pushes Elena forward. Elena begins to run forward with the axe held at her chest, left hand on the lower end and right hand gripping near the blade. As she nears him, her right hand slides down the shaft of the axe, allowing the blade to swing forward. With the initial shock of the betrayal wearing off, Kyle has time to react and quickly shuffles out of the way. He didn’t have time to collect himself before the District 5 girl delivered a kick to the side of his knee. ‘Just another cow,’ he thought to himself. He tightened his grip on the handle of the knife in his hand and lunged forward, swiping at her face. Cara might have been strong, but Elena was faster. Ducking the slash, she tackled the boy, causing both the knife and axe to fall to the ground.

Stronger than she was, Kyle flipped her over and sent his fist directly into her jaw. Their eyes met and Elena read them like the schoolbooks back home. She wasn’t just another person to him anymore. He was looking at her like she was a piece of meat. And she didn’t like it. His hands jetted towards her throat and clamped down — - he needed to win, after all, and she was only another victim. Her left hand went up towards his cheek, digging into the skin with her nails, while her right hand made its way towards the bag that was near her side. As his hands began to really cut off her air flow, her fingers closed around the handle of the awl and tore it out of the bag. The point cut through the fabric of his vest and Elena lodged the metal shaft in his chest, just under his shoulder. The force on her neck let up, and just as she removed the awl from his wound, Kyle fell off of her.

The boy hit the ground and Elena could feel his anger. Not only did he have the awl still in his chest, but he now had Tyler’s wooden spear fixed in his upper arm. She didn’t have time to question the help, though, and she quickly sat up and dove for the knife that Kyle had dropped in the tackle. Kyle, now already having pulled the awl from his front, gripped the spear in his arm and yanked it out, ignoring the blood seemingly pouring from each wound. He looked towards her and thrusted his arm forward, aiming for the girl but not yet releasing the spear. She backed away, dodging the spear, and immediately rushed forward, jabbing the knife into his thigh.

With more frustration than ever, Kyle ignored the knife that was in his leg and pushed Elena backwards. Even with the blood loss, he was stronger than the District 5 girl. He raised his arm and held the spear above his head. The blood coming from his own spear wound trickled onto Elena’s face, reminding her of the drop that had woken her up that morning. She remembered how peaceful it had been that morning; the calmness of the rainforest, the smell of the mossy floor and trees, Tyler grabbing the gift — - no, it couldn’t end like this. As he brought the spear down at her face, she lifted both arms up. The wood cut across her forearms but she didn’t pay any attention to it. She was still alive. Her right hand now found the wound on his chest, and before he could stop her, she dug her finger into the hole that the awl had left. 

For the first time since they had met up, he allowed himself to scream. But he wouldn’t give up. As more blood continued to flow from his chest, he found the strength to lift the spear again. But this time he wouldn’t be able to see it through. He let out a small cough, emanating more drops of blood, which landed unevenly on Elena’s face. Standing behind him was Tyler, now holding the axe that evidently had found its way into Kyle’s back. He swung again, bring the axe once more into Kyle’s spine, and the spear fell from his hand. Elena crawled back quickly to avoid the dropping body. The sand fluttered up from the impact of the body on the desert floor as the cannon sounded. Standing up, Elena took note of the various bruises and cuts on her body.

“At least we have bandages,” Tyler said, looking his old ally up and down. “And a knife.”

“Don’t forget the crackers,” she replied, smirking.

It had worked. They were still alive, and they were going to do everything in their power to stay alive. They were stronger together — and for now, their alliance was the difference between life and death.

Bandages, axe, awl, bread, water, 

Nathan and Arly

Nathan and Arly had been in the South. After their latest fight, they realized they were in no position to kill and fight other tributes, at least, for now. They decide to cross the desert and head to the East. As they look up to the sky, they see storm clouds gathering, another one of the Gamemaker’s creations. Careful to avoid traps, they scurry across the Swamp and reach the Eastern Desert with ease.

Knife, anti-venom, jerky, water, three throwing knives

Sam

Realizing he has nothing in the arena, Sam sets out to look for food and water. He feels himself growing weaker as the time passes, and knows that he won’t last more than a day or two without water or food. He wanders around for a bit in the rainforest, looking for clean water to drink. He finds a stream, seeing it’s crystal clear, he figures it’s safe and cups his hands and brings it to his mouth to drink. Careful not to overdo it, he sits down on a rock, resting for a bit. Soon rain begins to fall, and he leaves to make a retreat to the trees, climbing for a shelter. Nestling up in the tree, something catches his eye. A silver parachute landing on the branch beside him. Reaching for the parachute, seeing it’s a gift from his mentor, he opens the box attached. A knife. He does a simple nod and shows sign of thanks to the sky, knowing the cameras were rolling, and settled down for the night.

Knife

Tim

While sitting at the edge of the Cornucopia, Tim looks up to the sky and see dark clouds gathering. Soon after, heavy rain begins to fall. He steps go outside to gather water and drink the rain, opening his mouth to drink. Then, he feels it. At first, it was just an itch, but it’d began to grow to a distinct burning. Wherever the rain had touched, had begun to melt. Parts of his skin slowly burned away from the acids. Quickly, he realized he’d need to get to shelter. It was the only way he’d be able to survive at this point. He darted inside the Cornucopia, the pain growing stronger and stronger on his face, arms, and inside his mouth. He let himself slump down to the floor of it, his scythe falling to his side. He heard a loud rumble, and looked out the mouth of it, gazing up to the sky. Thunder. With thunder, came lightening, he knew. He felt his body tense, and knew what was coming. The Gamemaker was playing mind games. He stood up, figuring that the Cornucopia would be hit, but looked at his arms, growing more and more deformed as the acid seeped in, and knew he’d die either way. He let himself slump back down, and watched as the lightening hit the ground in front of the metal horn. He bit his lips harshly, and let the tears roll down his cheeks. He was afraid. Entirely and utterly afraid of this fate. Soon, the lightening bolt struck, and his body convulsed. The cannon fired like thunder, and the clouds dissipated as fast as they’d come.

Brett and Sheridan vs. Nikki, Nathan and Arly

The sun was blazing down on Brett and Sheridan on another excruciatingly hot day in the arena. They had just recovered from their food coma after feasting on the gazelle, and after covering up the fire, they started to make distance away from where they stayed in case any tributes should see the smoke and come to find them. The two careers walked in stealth, taking cautious footsteps through the open field, and made their way back toward the trees so that they could have some cover. After a good forty five minutes passes, or so they think, as it’s so hard to keep time in the arena, they take their first few steps back into the trees near where they had slept the previous night and stop to survey the area.

Brett began to take a step forward when Sheridan reached out and held him back. “Shh,” She whispered, pointing a bit northwest from their current position. Brett turned his gaze in the direction of her finger and smiled, seeing the three tributes all huddled together by a tree. Nikki, Arly, and Nathan appeared to have just gotten done resting up and eating what meager supplies they had, so the two careers knew that they weren’t going to be fighting drained weaklings.

“So Nathan joined them, eh?” Brett asked aloud in a low whisper, crouching down next to Sheridan by some shrubbery. “That’s three on two, but we can still take them.” One of the tributes heads perked up. They heard something not too far away. They drew their weapons, and each of them turned, looking around, now armed. The two Careers stood up and made a cautious approach, they weren’t going to sit and hide. 

“Well, well, well. Look who we have here.” Brett said tauntingly. The Careers looked at each other and shared an evil smirk. The outcasts had turned, looking briefly at each other to find strength for the bloodbath that would ensure, Arly glanced back to take note of the careers’ advance. Her heart leapt. With fear.

 “The Careers! They’re gone!” The fear in Arly’s whisper infected her allies, and they whipped their heads around in alarm, only to confirm the observation. Without warning, a dagger was flung at the tributes, taking it’s place in Nikki’s leg. She bit her lip in effort to hold back a scream, but a small whimper escaped her lips. The Outcasts turned their attention to a nearby tree, and saw that no one had remained. Nathan spun around, and his eyes grew wide with astonishment. A spear had been thrown and was heading directly towards him. He quickly jumped, letting it impale the tree behind him. His heart was racing, he took a knife and threw it, letting it embed itself in Brett’s arm. The District 1 tribute looked enraged as he pulled the knife, and whipped it back at them. They’d managed to dodge it. Nathan went up to face the Careers whereas Arly and Nikki focused on the dagger that had gone through Nikki’s leg. Nathan saw for a moment an opportunity to get even. He flung himself at Brett, tackling him and bringing him to the ground. Whilst falling, Brett and dropped the glaive. Nathan began jabbing him with elbows and swinging his fists at him.

As Brett and Nathan tousled, Sheridan wasted no time. She slithered closer to Arly and Nikki, seeing as they were tending the wounds. “Get up!” She hissed at them. Arly didn’t hesitate to pull a knife out, handing Nikki one as well. Sheridan and Arly began to fight. Sheridan reached back, grabbing her Spear from the tree, using it to prod Arly back further. Arly tossed a throwing knife at her, letting a gash run along Sheridan’s side now. The Career hissed again, and her eyes filled with fury. She moved closer to her, getting ready to throw the spear into her as she backed up. Nikki had been behind her now, only by a few feet and was sitting on the ground, ripping her pant leg to tie and use as a makeshift bandage around her upper thigh. Arly let out a shreik as a whistling spear flew near her, and jumped out of the way. “Nikki! Move!” She screamed, but her scream had been cut off by Nikki’s. The spear impaled her, straight through the chest. She let out a cough, blood running from the side of her mouth, and fell back limply to the ground. 

Nathan and Arly both turned, running now to her side. They watched as her chest rose then fell, slower and slower each time. It wasn’t long before the sound of a cannon had echoed through the air. The two picked up their supplies and turned around to find the Careers, but they were nowhere in sight. The two Outcasts exchanged a look of sorrow, and fled, hoping to find the missing member of their alliance.

Careers: Knife, glaive, spear, dagger, brass knuckles with claws, anti-venom, bandages vs Outcasts: Knife, anti-venom, jerky, water, three throwing knives

Amaris

While trying to find other members of her alliance heading North, Amaris has no luck. She figures she was too far from her alliance members. She continued walking still, trying to avoid other tributes at all costs. She didn’t want to go into a fight alone, especially if she was unfortunate enough to find a large group of tributes. She continued to traverse the large desert and followed the stream down. Finding herself within eyesight of the rainforest, she found a large black rock that was still warm to the touch, and decided to settle down for the night.

Hunting knife, mace, net, anti-venom, fire stoker, backpack

Tyler and Elena

After resting overnight in the Cornucopia, Tyler and Elena had decided to pack up their items, and head off to the North. The began walking through the desert. They spent hours between the hot sun and sand and getting near the Rainforest, they saw the outlines of tributes, and decided it was best to make their way away from it. It could be a fight, and the two from District 5 wanted no part of it. They decided to turn and take another route into the Rainforest, and after another long journey the two of them finally made it. Tyler and Elena had climbed up into a tree to pass the long hours of the night.

Bandages, axe, awl

Kyle vs. Cara

Kyle had woken up in the early hours of the morning. Figuring Cara was not yet awake, he got up. Quietly, he gathered up the box of crackers and knife and jumped off of the rock, onto the hard-packed sand below. The thud was a bit loud, though, and Kyle was afraid he may have awakened the girl on the rock. Cara woke upon hearing the noise and tried to keep quiet, pretending to be asleep. She let her eyelids fluttered open, and looked over at him. “Where are you going?”, she asked in a concerned voice. “Well”, Kyle said, thinking on his feet, “We really need water to wash down these crackers, y’know? We’re going to get thirsty. I was just going to the stream to fill up!” Cara was unconvinced. “Fill what up? That cardboard box?”. Knowing he’d been caught, Kyle stood there in silence, waiting for her to speak. “Are you going to answer me or not?”, Cara said. Still, Kyle didn’t move. Cara stood up, taking her chance while she still could. 

Kyle was caught completely off guard when his former ally, Cara, lept with all her might onto his back. He hadn’t braced at all for the impact and his knees gave way almost immediately. They were both on the sandy desert floor now, Cara still wrapped tightly around Kyle’s back. Cara climbed onto of Kyle, and Kyle, realizing she was in control, knew he had to get her off of him. It was imperative to his survival that he’d find away to take advantage of her. She swiftly begins to kick and hit him, buying her some time. She had no weapons to work with but herself. She took her arm and pinned him down by the throat, and reached around into the bag to pull the knife out. She let her arm off his neck, a slight move making her vulnerable, and Kyle sees the chance to attack. He grabs for the knife from her, cutting his hand in the process, and throws her off of him. Scrambling to his feet, he throws her against the large black rock they’d slept on the night before. 

The heat of it was uncomfortable against her back, sending a burning sensation up and down her spine. She tried to use her hands to fight him off, to get him away, but she didn’t have any luck. Kyle took the knife, and rammed it into her. She tried to hold back a scream, but a bit of a shriek slipped from her lips as she reached down to grab her ankle. He swiftly removed the knife from her and looked at her a moment. Remembering a time from back home, his fathers voice echoed in his head, “It ain’t over ‘till the heart stops beating, son!” He began to grow rougher in his attacks, showing no mercy. “You really thought you could kill me? By throwing your whole weight on me? Come on, Cara. I’m from District Ten. I’m used to carrying cows like you on my back!” With that, Cara threw her body once again onto Kyle, this time on his front, forcing fist after fist into Kyle’s neck. She knew this part of the body is one of the most sensitive, and she knew that if it broke, it would be all over for Kyle. But this move was her mistake. By putting herself onto Kyle’s front, she gave him a clear shot at stabbing her side. And stab her he did. The first time into her back, hitting her spinal cord right above the tailbone. The stab of the nerves caused her body to jerk dramatically upwards, removing her pounding fists from his trachea. This was Kyle’s chance. The knife drove itself fully into Cara’s stomach, raining blood and skin down onto Kyle’s face. Cara screeched in agony, but Kyle was furious that she would betray him this way. He was going to leave her be. Let her stay on the rock alone, alive, waiting for gifts from sponsors. But now he held no mercy, no qualms whatsoever about completely destroying this cow.

She tried to fight back, not let him win, but her throws were weak now. She used one hand to hold in her organs, and let herself lean back against the rock in defeat. He figured he’d put on more of a show by letting her die slowly. He stood up and began stepping away with the items. With only a few feet, he heard the cannon fire. The sympathy was over now for Kyle. The tributes were all just Pigs and Chickens and Cows and Sheep, waiting to be slaughtered at the hands of District Ten. He would not hold back one bit, and the next person his knife fell into would certainly die a gruesome, painful death.

Knife, crackers,

Sam

Sam began walking South in search of members of his alliance, but to no avail. After hours of walking with no supplies, he began to feel tired and weak. He knew he needed to find food, but he could make do without it for now. He saw the faint blue glimmer of a stream, and walked over. Seeing the crystal clear water, he used his hands to drink some. After all, dehydration could kill him as easily as another tribute. He looked around and saw he was on the outskirts of the Rainforest, where it would meet the desert. He figured he would save the desert for another day, and he climbed a tree, retiring for the night.

No items

Timothy

While heading to the North, Timothy traverses an expansive desert to get to the Cornucopia. He looks about and sees that the area is clear of other tributes, before glancing at the sand, and noticing footprints leading further North. He looks up at the blazing sun and moves into the Cornucopia, setting down his scythe. The Cornucopia had been picked clean of any other items, and Tim let out a gentle sigh. He felt the hunger gnawing at him, and knew he’d need food in the next day or two in the arena. He walked over to the water that surrounded the giant horn, and filled his hands with it. He drank as much as he could without over doing it, then stepped into the Cornucopia. It was warm to the touch and would provide sufficient shelter and heat to protect him from the cold night in the arena. Tim would now sit at the edge of the Cornucopia, watching the day go by, before moving inside to sleep.

Scythe

Since all responses have been sent earlier than expected, situation 4 part two emails are being sent out momentarily and responses be due tomorrow at 6PM EST. Just remember, no news is good news.

- The Gamemaker

Brett and Sheridan

Brett sat nestled comfortably on a high up branch in the tallest tree he and Sheridan could find, and slept, letting Sheridan keep guard. The sun began to finally rise after one of the longest nights of their lives, and once Sheridan decided it was time to get up for the day to hunt a much needed meal, she maneuvered her way through the branches to Brett and screamed, “Wake up!” in his ear, all while pushing him out of the tree. Brett yelled out in surprise as he fell down through the branches and got caught by his sweatshirt, his glaive dropping to the ground below.

“SHERIDAN!” Brett shrieked, grasping to get a hold of the tree better before he fell even further, “Are you trying to kill me!?”

“Well, not yet.” Sheridan said with a grin. She reached out for his hand and took it, helping him back onto the tree. “Come on! Let’s go hunt!” She grins, swinging off of a branch and landing with grace onto the springy swamp floor.

Brett follows her lead, falling with less grace and traveling side by side with her as they travel through the trees and muddy ground, being cautious of potential tributes. He thought about how many had gone and the images in the sky the previous night. The face of Liz flashed into his mind and he cringed, followed shortly after by the memory of Michael calling for help, who was backstabbed in more ways than one. Snap out of it, Brett told himself, it had to be done.

The two tributes came into an open field, and Brett looked around in confusion. “What are we supposed to be hunting exactly?”

“That.” Sheridan whispers, pointing towards a small family of gazelles.

“We’re going to eat them!?” Brett asks in shock, the District 1 boy was obviously not accustomed to eating anything moments after its death.

“Ssh! You’ll scare them off.” Sheridan warns, crouching down and cautiously making her way towards a young gazelle. Brett watches as she stops, sets her feet, and throws her spear with such force that the gazelle is brought with the long weapon several feet before it hits the ground. The other gazelle are startled into running off, and Sheridan gestures for Brett to follow her. He walks over, glancing at the gazelle with a look of distaste.

“I’m just going to go refill our water while you butcher this thing,” Brett said, looking at their supplies. “Wait, what exactly am I supposed to store this water in?”

“Oh! I weaved a basket during my watch last night!” Sheridan bounced up and cheerfully handed Brett a well constructed, medium-sized basket.

Brett raised his eyebrows and fixed his gaze on her in disbelief. “You’re kinda strange, you know.” He said, taking the basket and turning toward the river.

“Hurry up with the water!” Sheridan yelled, preparing to take her knife to the gazelle, “And don’t get yourself killed! Tonight we feast!”

Sheridan shrugged off the chill that went down her spine as she gutted and cleaned the gazelle. To take her mind off of the animal’s demise she let her thoughts wander to her partner, Brett. She hoped he wasn’t always as arrogant as he acted, but what else can you expect from District 1? At least he was strong enough of an ally.

Brett reached the river and brought the basket into the flowing water. As he raised it up, he expected it to leak out the bottom or sides, but it was surprisingly air-tight. He shrugged and stood up, picking up his glaive in his other hand. Before he turned away, he could have sworn he saw movement off in the distance, back toward the swamp they just came from. He thought that it could be Amaris, who surely would be out for their blood now or maybe Nikki and Arly who had escaped from them last night. He simply shrugged, for he was too hungry to care right now.

When the District 1 boy reached Sheridan again, she had already cut off a generous supply of meat and was getting started on the fire. Sheridan looked up to see that the basket was filled with water and grinned to herself at his ignorance. Of course the basket would work! District 4 had its advantages, too. “We’ll have to cook this quickly,” She said, “so that the other tributes don’t see the smoke and come after us.”

“Sounds good to me,” He replied, setting the basket of water down beside them. “Do you think we can make tacos?”

Sheridan laughed as she skewered the meat with a stick and stuck it into the flame. “Shut up and cook this. I need some water.” The two tributes sat by the fire and ate, gaining strength for whatever was going to happen to them next.

“I can’t wait to go home,” Sheridan said.

Brett nodded back at her. “Me too.”

Amaris

Casey and Mike were dead, and there was nothing she could do about it. The tears ran swiftly down the Careers face in confusion, sadness, and anger. She knew that others would take it as a sign of weakness, that she was overcome with grief. But they would be sorely mistaken; she was overcome with rage. Anyone who may have seen the act would only be doing themselves in, thinking that she would waste time mourning. These are the hunger games and there wasn’t any time to do such things.

However, she had made a grave mistake when she decided to be arrogant. She had lost her district partner and closest ally to two people she didn’t expect to team up. Amaris had survived the mess though and if she was going to go down, those three were most definitely going to go down with her.  So, while the others slept, she did what she knew how to do best: she plotted. 

Before the hovercrafts came and took Mike and Casey away, she’d taken both of their weapons and eaten a little bit of her food, as well as having drunk some of the water from the stream. No one came-; nothing moved-; it was desolate and lonely.  She’d cleaned up the mess from the battle earlier in the day, not wanting any marks upon the wilderness for people to know if this was where they had previously been or not. Amaris, filled with guilt, had taken Casey’s gloves and vest. He wouldn’t need them anymore, and she didn’t know when they could come in handy. If nothing else she could set up a fake situation to lure someone in. 

Afterwards, she dirtied up the bright blue bag, smearing what blood she could on it, drying and becoming a dirty, hideous brown. With mud, dirt and pieces of grass from the swamp, the tarnished bright blue had become a considerably dull brown with tints of yellow and green. Almost immediately after, she did something along the same lines to herself. One of the last things she needed was for her hair to get lose in her face. Amaris used a handful of the softer dirt to slick back her hair, tying the rest into a tight bun using the feathers she’d brought in as a token to tie it. She added enough dirt to herself to make her appearance less obvious, but not nearly enough to hinder her. 

Finally as she was done camouflaging herself, she began to move in the direction of the swamp and climbed up into the first tree she saw. The tree itself was massive, and she scowled at the added weight of Mike’s mace. It wasn’t difficult per se, but it wasn’t something she was used to. Finally, she was up high enough that she couldn’t see through the leaves and vines of the canopy. Amaris moved carefully, aware that anything could pop out at her; but in the end, nothing did. She tied each of the four corners of her net to a part of the tree, creating a makeshift hammock for her to sleep in. With a sigh, she pulled a collection of soft moss off of the tree and covered the net in it until it looked decent enough to sleep in. 

Amaris made herself comfortable before cutting small holes in the cage-like vegetation so she could see out in two directions if she was sitting up. One pointed north, so she could see whomever decided to venture towards the swamp, and the other pointed south, so that she could see anyone attempting to make their way out. She stuck the knife into the trunk of the tree before repeating the action with the mace, and then leaned back. If she had more time she would’ve set up a trap for anyone who dared try to disturb her, but now there wasn’t really time. It was dark, and she was tired. The redhead sighed again to herself, pulling more of the moss over to cover herself, and to insulate herself against the cold of the desert night. She nestled in, thinking of ways to seek revenge, before drifting off to sleep.

Tyler and Elena

The colors of the sky were changing. The world around the tributes continued to turn, and Elena knew that sleep was not an option at the moment. She had been shaken awake earlier so she could take over the watch of the area that she and Tyler were staying in. The cornucopia, for once, seemed inviting to the tributes. Tyler hadn’t made any noise in quite a while, Elena realized, and a silence had drifted over the surrounding area. It astounded her, when she thought about it, that so many tributes had been killed on the first day. Although only two days had gone by since the bloodbath, it felt as though they had been in that Arena for their entire lives. She sighed, pulling her bandage off of her head and away from the cut near her eye. Considering what had come to pass, she began to trace the names of those who had been killed into the sand in front of her.

Elena knew that the list of dead tributes would only continue to grow longer in the days that followed, and a sense of dread, one greater than any she’d felt so far, cast over her. James, Liz, Sara, Kathryn - people who she’d barely known, but felt some sort of strange bond with nonetheless. These tributes had been wonderful people, and she knew that their families had to have been grieving. She shook her head slightly and continued to write down the names of the deceased tributes.

Although Elena hadn’t noticed, Tyler had moved over to where she was sitting. “Couldn’t sleep,” he explained, and she nodded. “I know that it bothers you,” he said to her, and she gave a quick shrug. “But they would have had to die, anyway,” Tyler continued, “and that’s just how this all goes. There’s no point to getting upset over anyone who’s already dead. They did the best they could.” Elena nodded, understanding Tyler’s reason. She looked over the names of the dead tributes one more time, and when she caught Liz’s name, she let a quick smile cross her features, and turned to Tyler.

“There was a girl named Liz in our class back home,” she stated, the ever so slight smile still on her face. “Do you remember her?”

“That was Jayson’s sister, right?” Tyler asked, now taking a seat next to her. He resisted the urge to adjust his bandages and let his arms rest across his knees.

“Mhm,” Elena said, not taking her focus from the list. “I wonder if she got to finish.”

“School?”

Elena nodded. “I was close, though,” she said, glancing at her partner. “Unlike some people…”

“I did what I had to do,” Tyler said, standing up. Although healing, his left arm was still sore, and any sort of movement wrung through it as if the axe was still there. “It’s a tough life when you have to make up for the work that your dad can’t do.”

Tyler talked with some enthusiasm, but his partner could see through that, and she knew that she had struck a delicate chord.

“Remember that time,” she began, hoping to get his mind off of his father, “when I first started working in the first aid station with your mom and our families had dinner together that one night? And Phil dropped the entire tray of our dinners on the floor?”

Not being able to resist, Tyler let out a small chuckle. “Or that time my mom told me about. Oh god, when your sister, uh, Victoria, came to visit you at work and got the bandages stuck in some of the gears?”

Elena burst into laughter. “I can’t believe we’re sitting here now.”

“I can’t believe a lumberjack tried to carve my arm with an axe…” Tyler said, concealing his laughter. It resurfaced almost instantly. 

He walked back over to the corner of the cornucopia in which they had stashed the satchel and axe and grabbed the roll of bandages from inside the brown bag. “Help a guy out?” he said, walking over to Elena with the bandages. He sat next to her and she began to unravel the original bandages from his arm. The wound had begun to heal, and Tyler could hear her release a small sigh of relief - a sign that was good for him, a sign that the cut showed no signs of infection. As she began to rewrap the recovering gash, the two of them continued to make small talk, ranging from topics of home to the Capitol’s food to the mysterious mutts they had seen flying the other night. The sky began to turn lighter shades of blue above them, and it looked as though it would be another calm day in the Arena.

Kyle and Cara

Cara and Kyle fled the scene of Kathryn’s death as fast as they could and had now arrived at the edge of the savannah. Hearing the cannon fired, they knew Kathryn had been thoroughly mauled and there would be very little time before the Manticores were back on their heels, thirsting for more blood. Kyle spotted a large black rock silhouetted against the vermillion sunset of the desert sky. “Come on, Cara.”, he said through teeth clenched in pain, “We can climb up to the top of that rock and we’ll be safe from the mutts for the night. Alright? Cara? Cara!”. Kyle twisted left to right and couldn’t find her; all he could hear was a faint whimpering. Kyle’s insides turned to acid as he imagined the worst. The thought of losing both Cara and Kathryn to the Manticores was terrifying. At the edge of the tall grass, where the roots were exposed through the sand of the desert lay Cara, her eyes scarlet and flowing with tears. 

Kyle knew immediately what was the matter. Cara and Kathryn had become very close during the time before the tributes were plopped into the arena. He had seen their relationship with one another evolve, getting stronger over time. That was why Kyle wanted to ally with them in the first place. He thought the strong bond Cara and Kathryn shared was enough to withstand any mutt, any situation, any tribute. He knew now he was wrong. “Cara…I know you’re really shaken up over Kathryn, but you have to listen to me. If we don’t get to that rock over there the Manticores will be back, and I don’t have the energy to fight them off with this venom in my veins.” Cara shook hard, her breath heaving, her voice trembling, the sand beneath her soaked in her sorrow. Still, she remained silent.  Kyle thought back for a moment, remembering the Kathryn of District Ten. He hadn’t known her very well, she was very quiet, always sitting in the back of the class with her nose in a book. Her father was a rancher who cared for pigs, and Kyle’s father had always said, his tongue firmly in his cheek, that Kathryn’s father loved the pigs more than his family. Putting two and two together, he know realized there was some truth to this. “Kathryn was always on the skinnier side” Kyle thought,  “Her arms always little smaller than all the rest of us… While her dad was one of the fattest people in the District.” Kyle’s heart shattered as he realized how much Cara must have meant to her. How desperate they were to live, to die for one another. Kathryn’s plan made sense all of a sudden. She had known all along it wouldn’t work, she had known it would get her killed, she had known it would pull them away from Cara. The final nod she gave to Kyle made sense now. “Protect her”, she had said with her eyes.

Eventually, after waiting for Cara’s anxiety to wane a bit, Kyle and Cara moved sluggishly towards the black rock.The sky was growing darker yet above them. Once atop the rock, which was still radiating heat from baking in the desert sun all day, they laid out their meager supplies. A knife and a box of Crackers. They arranged a ration amount, keeping it even between the two. If Kelsey didn’t send him Anti-Venom soon Cara would be all alone in the desert with a knife she didn’t know how to use and a box of crackers she needed water to eat. “Cara-“, he started, but was interrupted by Cara. “Kathryn wanted me to tell you she thought you would win. You’re mother being Head Peacekeeper and all…” This took him by surprise, Kathryn always seemed to be a bit cold to Kyle. “She really liked you, actually. She said you were one of the only people who didn’t bully her. Thats why when you said you wanted to ally with us, she said yes. I was against it at first, but she said she knew you would protect us. And when you pushed me behind you as that Manticore stung you…I knew she was right.” This was the perfect segue for Kyle, “That’s kind of what I wanted to talk to you about Cara. I’ve protected you this much, and if I die, I need to know you’ll be safe.” Cara seemed weak to Kyle, but she was insulted by this implication. “What! You think I can’t handle myself? I’m smart, you know! And I have a lot of ways I can win this game!” Kyle was completely taken aback, he didn’t expect this sort of reaction from her.  Kyle laughed to lighten the tension. “Alright! I didn’t mean to ruffle your feathers, sugar!” Feeling a bit more at ease, Cara joined in and had a laugh with him. Together they looked up into the sky as it grew darker and darker. Just when he’d least expected it to happen, a tiny silver parachute fluttered down, containing exactly what he’d needed: the anti-venom.

Sam

As Sam continued to run north, blood pounding in his ears, a vast rainforest came into view he noticed trees taller and more massive than he had ever seen in the landscape in front of him, becoming closer and closer together until a dense wall of dark green vegetation was visible. “Shade,” a relieved Sam thought as he glanced at his skin, already growing pink from the white-hot sun beating down on him. The stream, he now noticed, was formed by the merging of several smaller streams, each coming from a different part of the rainforest. He stopped to take a sip of the cool, clear water coming from the stream furthest east, drinking only enough to relieve his parched throat, for fear of causing cramps. 

The air was sticky and heavy, Sam noticed, as he travelled further into the rainforest, staying near the stream. The vegetation became wilder as he got further in, and after a long way in, Sam felt fairly comfortable stopping for the day. He surveyed the surrounding area, taking in the foliage. Carefully and silently, he made his way to the stream to take several well-earned gulps of cold water, knowing that keeping hydrated was key to survival. Who knows if he would have water in the days to come. 

Realizing the sun was setting, Sam made his way back from the stream to a thinner patch of trees and deftly scaled a medium sized one. He climbed out onto one of the limbs and hopped to a taller tree, making his way up higher, high enough to see over most of the trees. A quick scan of the surrounding landscape allowed him valuable insight to the terrain of the rest of the arena.When he turned to look South, he saw a glint of gold. The Cornucopia. Thoughts of the bloodbath flooded his mind. He wondered, “What did I miss getting from the pile of goods…” Lost in thought, Sam barely realized that the arena was darkening quickly and the sounds of the night began to engulf the forest. He slid down the smooth barked tree to where several branches split. The tree was a perfect place to rest for the first night in the arena. Virtually invisible from the ground, Sam wedged himself in the nook between the branches and began to drift off to sleep when he heard the anthem beginning to play. He thought of the previous night in the arena and realized, there were only twelve tributes left. 

Nikki Nathan and Arly

As Sam was on his own in the north, Arly and Nikki were running south, away from the careers. After finding a tree to rest in, Arly and Nikki finally got a chance to relax their legs that were aching from running all day. Nikki let Arly sleep first, since the young girl looked so worn out; she was trembling with fatigue. She had been through so much today, leaving her with a look in her eyes that was both determined and haunting. On surviving the next couple more days. As soon as she relaxed her body against the tree and closed her eyes, she fell into a light, restful slumber.

Nikki was determined to stay awake even though her muscles ached and it felt as if her heart had been hollowed out. Betrayal was inevitable in the Games, but still. The trust she had put in Timothy had been broken, along with some part of her heart. She replayed every event that had happened today in her head, from the gruesome death of Makala at the hands of Timothy, the maniacal look on his face when he sliced her limp and bleeding body into pieces, letting the blood drip from the scythe onto the sand as they headed away from the Cornucopia. Everything he had done that day should have thrown Nikki off; it should have been a warning to what was to come. She should have known that he would betray them, but she decided to trust him. She felt so stupid! How could have believed that the strongest player in their alliance would support them and stick with them through the games? She regretted her idiocy, but the Games didn’t reward those who sat and moped. She had to concentrate on surviving the next few hours. On finding Nathan.

Meanwhile, Nathan was trying to get some rest in his tree. His eyes were closed but his mind was still racing. He hadn’t seen any of the faces of his alliance in the sky so he was very grateful for that. Nathan knew that they had to be somewhere near by. A croak from something in the swamp made his eyes snap open, helping him come to a decision: he was going to go look for them. But first, he grabbed the hand that had dropped into his lap previously from the branch beside him and pocketed it, stomach churning at the thought of it rubbing against his leg.

Nikki could feel her eyelids getting heavy. She needed to stay awake, so she focused on something—anything—that would keep her awake. She thought about her plans. How to survive. They couldn’t continue running away from the careers or the other tributes. They would have to face them sooner or later, and Nikki would have rather faced them sooner than have the tributes come after them. The hours passed slowly. 

Suddenly, she heard a rustling in the trees and drew her knife. Her muscles tensed, waiting for an attack to come, but the face that emerged from the tree adjacent to hers made her heart leap. Nikki almost cried out in joy at seeing their long-lost ally, but stopped herself hoping not to wake Arly up. She grabbed Nathan in a hug and whispered, “I’m so glad you found us!” Nathan smiled warmly after pulling away from the hug. 

It wasn’t long before the bustle of a much-needed reunion woke District 8’s female tribute, her eyes fluttering open to a scenario she had long since decided improbable. Had she been killed in her sleep? Alas, she did feel a telltale pinch as she found her arm caught on a branch covered in thorns. She stumbled from her branch in a dazed stupor, tripping into the arms of her district partner and lifelong ally.

“I was worried about you.” The boy sighed slowly, refusing to let go, as if his grip could bring the Games to a screeching halt and whisk the two back to District 8.

“I missed you, Nat.” Four words were adequate; their speech was simply a method of filling the general silence their branch of the forest seemed to possess.

“Louis is dead.” The explanation was nearly caught in her throat, never to escape from her barely parted lips. “Kyle killed him in the bloodbath… a-and Tim is gone. Not gone as in ‘dead’; gone as in ‘killed two careers in a fight and bolted’.”

“So he betrayed us?” Nate asked with uncertainty, but he got his answer from the looks on their faces.

“The next time we see him, we kill him. If it comes down to it, I will kill him myself,” Nikki whispered fiercely, anger burning in her eyes. But suddenly, she looked tired again as the anger drained from her features, and she lowered her head wearily. She fell asleep as the District 8 tributes chattered quietly, before soon taking the night to sleep themselves.

Timothy

Shput! The sound ran through his mind too often as he ran away from the bloody scene that he had caused. He thought of it every time that he took a step through the sound. It was something that he would never forget. He thought over the gruesome deaths he’d caused, and had remembered every aspect of the events. The sounds their bodies made when he’d killed them had haunted him now.  

Shput! The sound repeated in his mind. Tears dripped down from the edges of his eyes and down onto his cheeks.  He was just doing what he had to do to survive. Dismayed, he let his scythe slip from his hand and into the sand. Timothy watched the sand turn a bright color of red from Casey’s blood. He realized just now how he was branded both mentally and physically from these deaths.

He laid down onto the ground and arched his back to avoid getting sand in his wound. He let his eyes wander, trying to find solace, but instead he found nothing. For the split second that he searched, he wondered if Michael, Casey, and Makala were looking down at him, disappointed or understanding of his actions. They had tried to do the same thing; kill or be killed. That was the name of the game. He remained in thought for a couple of seconds before he remembered the noise.

Shput! The sound rang clear through his memory. Everything, for the moment, didn’t feel as clear as it was in the moments before. He wanted to drain his memory out into the sand and watch it absorb his memory like a liquid, but he knew this was impossible. This cruel, sick game that the Capitol played with their minds and hearts… Maybe he didn’t want to go home. Maybe he wanted to die here. Maybe it would have been the best for everyone… The people at home didn’t want to watch him suffer. He didn’t want to suffer either. 

Timothy let out a little sigh and finally raised himself up from the sand, looking around. Nothing but sand, and the river beside him. He felt his wound, then put his bloody palm into the water. Then Timothy grabbed his scythe and put it into the creek. Before, he’d willingly drained the emotion from each and every inch of his body to be able to fight, but now he could feel the emotion drain from his body unwillingly.

He found where he would sleep for the night. As many expected, he would sleep next to the river that trickled, listening to the sound of the rushing water. It comforted him to have a sound next to him while he slept, especially listening to the water and imagining it enveloping his body. Timothy thought, besides the stages before unconsciousness, that drowning could be a pretty peaceful way to die. He often had dreams about it, probably from the music that he could rarely get his hands on. “And he took me to the river, where he slowly let me drown,” Timothy whispered under his lips, falling into his sleep and cuddling up to himself next to the river. Tonight was going to be a cold night.

His eyes opened in a dream, surrounded by fog and nothing but the deep water below him. You couldn’t see through the misty water. Timothy looked around for a second, but his head twisted back up. He saw the dead tributes float past him, their blood spilling into the water.  Three specific tributes floated down above him, the faces of Casey, Makala, and Michael suddenly appearing to them. How he wished he could get out of the blood, but he couldn’t. A simple dream had suddenly turned into a nightmare in the blink of an eye. 

The bodies, and him, all began to sink as he finally noticed their distant stares. The pieces and parts of the tributes around him were also sinking at the same rate as he was. Their mouths opened widely, blood-laced bubbles exiting their mouths as they began to float upward. Timothy, however, found himself going deeper into the water, finally hitting the bottom.  However, Timothy was paralyzed. He couldn’t move and could only watch the surface. The rest of the dream was a blur. What he did remember was that he could see and breathe. 

When he awoke from his dream, he sat up, the desert sun panning down onto him and his skin. The wound had stopped bleeding by now.  Something was off about the boy; the way that he looked was different even though it was very much the same. It was linked to his dream  

Timothy had already given the Gamemaker exactly what they wanted from him: a good game. And he was going to continue doing just that. He had to get out of here… Not for his family. Not for himself. For the honor of his district, he must be the last one standing.

“I’m really sorry, Casey, Michael, and Makala. I didn’t know you that well, I didn’t know any of you that well,” Timothy said, spitting out saliva from his mouth onto the ground and looking up as he rose from his sitting position, “I’m sorry that I had to kill you. But it’s all a part of this game.” The words were like ice under his breath. The color that was drained from his face before was not yet back. In fact, he wasn’t sure if it would ever return. He was paralyzed on the inside, emotionally numb… Almost as if reality had become that single dream, “And I’ll do anything to win.”

Due to all the drama, I’m soooo out of here! I don’t need premature wrinkles <3

NOW TO REVEAL GAMEMAKER G TO THE WORLD!

…

GOODBYYYYE!

-Gamemaker G