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A long time ago, things were good. Peace and harmony ruled and people could go about their business but then came the war that nearly wiped out humanity. In order to maintain the hard-earned peace, 12 boys and 12 girls, called Tributes, are put in an outdoor arena where they remain to compete in a nationally televised event called the Hunger Games. The rules are simple: Keep the audience entertained and stay alive by any means necessary. Every citizen must watch as the youths fight for survival against death until only one remains or a full year has passed.

It is now the year 30XX. Your job is to survive the Games for as long as you can in hopes of escape. But even if you do, can you survive the Horrors within the Capital?


Akane and Jeremy were curled up within each other, his bigger frame around hers as if to guard her against the day and what was coming with it. He was already awake but he didn't dare move, he didn't want to wake the sleeping fairy from her slumber because of how peicefull she looked.

Charlie was at home, she was already dressed and ready to go. Her blond hair pulled back into a single braid down her back, held back with a white headband and a green center piece. Her sorry exucse of an aunt hadn't prepared anything nice for her to wear, so instead, she wore her normal get up: A cream colred tanktop dress, a dark brown worn out coat with matching shorts, and white shoes. Around her waist was a black and brown fanny pack.

(Charle's fanny pack is a more visual imagery for her inventory.)

---

Even though she was fully clothed, Tayla couldn't help but feel naked without her weapons. But she had no other choice. She had to blend in with the crowd, and she couldn't blend in very well if she were walking around with a rifle slung over her shoulder.

Tayla wasn't prepared for the Reaping. For the past few years, she had been able to avoid attending the Reaping. Under the eyes of the law, Tayla was a ghost. She was last seen living with her grandpa, then the incident happened. After that, there were no more records of her. Any logical person would believe that, that had been when she'd died. Yet here she was, somehow she was still kicking.

She had borrowed a dress from her client. It felt tight against her larger more muscular frame. The dress was a simple thing, a black knee-lengthed outfit. She was constantly afraid that it would tear whenever she walked.

There were a few families awake and walking near her. She tries to ignore them but can't stop her eyes from drifting over to the closest ones. Her heart breaks when she watches mothers and fathers embrace their scared children. Knowing who she is now, would her parents still embrace her if they were still alive?

Tayla chases away these thoughts by focusing on the job. Clenched in her right hand was a mostly faded photo of a girl- Ashley Rose was her name. Tayla had memorized the photo down to its last detail. Still, it felt wrong to not bring it with her. She had to figure out how she would find Ashley and then how they would escape. Her scheming is cut short by the sight of a lone girl standing outside on her porch. The girl looked to be about ten years old, the same age Tayla was when her family had been-... attacked.

Tayla pauses by the house and stares at the girl. Why was she alone? Tayla knew better than any the dangers of being alone. Reflexively, her hand falls behind her back, where a pistol was usually hidden in the waist of her pants. Instead, her hand rubs against the fabric of her dress and she is reminded that she is weaponless. But to her relief, the girl's parents step outside and lead the girl down the steps. Tayla quickly lowers her head and keeps on walking in the hopes that the girl's parents wouldn't notice her. Stay invisible and focus Tayla reminds herself.

---

Every day, at dawn and dusk, every day from 06:00 to 20:00, for nearly three years now... Tyler stood watching over his current project, watching as workers like him worried over the large building like hundreds of ants. Taking another sip of chilled water, Tyler let out a groan. From the corner of his normal eye, he'd watched a fat, jolly-looking man squeeze through a car door and start towards him. The cheery voice called out to him, a few decibels too loud, the pudgy hands beckoning him over. Standing slowly, Tyler met his higher-up in the middle.
"Anything wrong, boss?" The fat man chuckled
"Well, unless you count the day off as something wrong, not at all." Tyler stayed very silent for a few moments.
"Come again?"
"Well, the Reaping is today-"
"I know it is. But it was today last year as well, and you didn't-"
"Oh, enough about last year. You're the only one of my workers who's still able to join in. Err, right?" Tyler's boss gave him a sideways look, seemingly confused.
"Sure. Let's go with sure. Or, wait, no-"
"Great! You're headed to the Reaping today! Go home and get changed! Quick, quick!" Tyler was ushered into the car and arrived soon at his small house, one that he'd built himself.
"I could have drove here myself, you know.." The statement was waved off, and Tyler huffed, stepping inside and looking around the familiar entry room. He sighed, then shrugged. "Guess I'll be headed to the Reaping... Tch.." Ducking through the doorway to his room, Tyler shed his clothes and found new ones, tailored to fit to his... Unique addition, as always. Mostly with Velcro, belts, and buttons or snaps. Here, Tyler wore a black pair of jeans, a white tank-top with a strap to hold it on, and a trench coat over the top, buttons holding his odd side's overcoat on. Stepping outside, Tyler sighed. He let his feet move slowly, mentally sneering at the idea of going to the Reaping.

---

Cree could feel the vibrations in the floor, the feeling of steps approaching his quarters... A door opened, but was quickly closed again. The blinding flash of light was enough to make the creature flinch and let out a horrific noise.
"I'm sorry.. But today is when you usually come outside. The Reaping, remember? You usually attend..." This was a person, their voice very silent to Cree. He understood, though. He shifted slowly, dust cascading off of him as he moved that for the first time in twelve months. His breathy voice whispered through the air, reaching the person who averted his eyes so carefully from Cree's face.
"HhhhhhhhhLeave... Hhhhhhhhhnow..." The man ducked his head and vanished back through the door, Cree's eyes closing as the light flashed again. Slowly, he reached for a mask that laid nearby, covered with dust as well. A mask of Tragedy, one with shaded eyes and a mouth that extended a good few inches below an average person's face. Of course, Cree was no normal human. As the strap for the mask was pulled over his face, the popping of his shoulders filled the space. Slowly, the enormous creature crawled out of the darkened pit he hid himself in, making his way through the building of what used to be home and out the front door. No eyes followed him. No old ones, at the very least. They knew who he was, what he was. And they feared that. It brought a twisted feeling of joy to the creature that now strode so horrendously towards the Reaping; his fingers nearly dragged along the ground, the tracks of his bare feet scratched by the way his weight scattered the dirt when he strode forward and set his foot down.

---

Ace shivered at the sudden knowledge he'd received from air around him telling him that something was horrifically wrong. A voice, muffled by a bit of cloth, echoed into the ozone.
"There is a crack on the Keystone. It will break next winter if not replaced." A few disturbed, enraged, and concerned mumbles followed that. The Beholder turned quickly. "I am done here. Make haste with your bridge." He started towards the area where he knew the Reaping would be. Evidently, he was required to go this year... He'd gotten in some kind of trouble for not attending the gathering the previous year. His many eyes saw all around him, every odd glance from a stranger caught and returned. Every eye across the Mimic's face moved independently of one another, allowing the horrid beast to see everything around him in a single instant. Not that he needed to see, of course. The very oxygen around him told him what he needed to know, in the most detailed way possible. He wasn't far from the area he needed to be to, thankfully. It was all of two minutes before Ace arrived at the gathering place. There weren't many there, seeing as it was still so early.

Tayla passes by a house and she hears shouting, actually, house would be too polite of a word to describe the sorry excuse of a shelter. It was falling apart from the roof to the slightly moldy walls. the house was clearly out of shape and hadn't been taken care of in quite some time.

Finally, a girl no older than twelve stumbled out, her outfit slightly disheveled from her aunt shoving her out. After a few choice words at the child, the door was slammed shut. Charlie likewise just adjusted her jacket, to her dismay, the left sleeve had been torn at the shoulder from the roughhousing. Charlie heaved a silent sigh, dug into her fanny pack, pulled out a thread and string, and quickly stitched it up. Something odd though happened when the child reached into the bag, a small inventory popped up and when she had taken the thread and needle it disappeared temporarily, only to reappear when it had been replaced. With a quick movement, the fanny pack was shut and the inventory closed.

Readjusting her fanny pack Charlie looked back up in the direction of the town square but didn't move, clearly nervous about the Reaping.

---

One look at the peacekeepers gathering towards townhall is enough to send alarm bells off in Tayla's head. Compared to her, they were armed to the teeth. They are all armed with batons and tasers, but a few have white assault rifles and submachine guns. For the third time today, she has to remind herself that she is weaponless. She was extremely vulnerable to an attack. She was nothing without a weapon.

I made a mistake... I shouldn't be here! Tayla quickly turns around and walks away from town hall. She'll apologize to the mother later. Maybe there is a way to get her daughter back without throwing herself to the wolves.

Her attention is directed to shouting on her left. A moment later, a younger girl is quite literally pushed out of her house. Tayla opens her mouth to shout profanities at the woman, but the door slams shut before she has the opportunity to do that. The young girl quickly fixes herself up but doesn't move after that. The fearful look in her eyes is a dead giveaway that she is terrified.

Don't do it! Don't do it! Don't do it! Her brain screams. Yet her feet move on their own accord. Before she knows it, she is standing over the girl, unknowingly glaring down at her. "Don't be afraid" she says with a surprising amount of warmth in her voice. "There is nothing to be afraid of, let's walk together. Everything will be okay." The lie is surprisingly convincing, especially considering the fact that Tayla doesn't believe a single word. But she would be cruel to reveal all of this to Charlie.

Charlie looks up at the girl surprised, flinching from the sudden voice, but she nodded in agreement.

~~~

Akane and Jeremy were finally up. Jeremy was wearing the same thing he usually had until his last reaping, a simple green dress shirt that was slightly faded with time, dark blue pants, and a pair of sturdy boots. Akane was wearing a simple turquoise dress that stopped at her knees with a pair of black flats, her hair had been dip-dyed a light teal to match the dress. They looked at each other for a moment as if understanding the other's worry then back to Leaf and Rue, who were watching quietly behind them. After exchanging words of comfort the group set out.

---

Lifei, or otherwise known as Faith, stepped out of her house, clad in a pretty blue summer dress. She had a straw hat on, and a bright smile on her face— like she was just going to the beach, not the Reaping. In her hand she held a small bag, which people would most likely assume was filled with normal stuff. However, Faith had packed several knives in her bag, as well as a pistol. She wasn’t going to trust those— Peacemakers.


Natalia woke up slightly later, grumbling at her broken alarm clock. She clad herself in all black, grabbed her bag and dashed out of the alley. She ran up to Faith, tackling her against the wall, and holding a knife up to her throat. Faith was unfazed, instead chuckling as she pushed the knife away. “You’ve been greeting me like this for years, and still have yet to fulfil that threat you always make to me. Hello, Talia” Natalia dropped the knife and smiled. “Just because I haven’t done it yet doesn’t mean I won’t.” Faith smiles, before dragging Natalia off to the Reaping, the two best friends chatting, both a stark contrast from the other

---

Molly's day started with the sun, rising as it crested over the hills. Rolling out of bed was easy enough and the alarm would be silenced before it could even ring, a soft stretch matching the growing light outside given to kick start the day. A splash of cold water had blue eyes fluttering open to take in the image in the mirror. A boy with cotton candy hair stared back and Molly gently pulled up his pastel dyed hair into a loose braid. Some of the pale blond roots were beginning to show and Molly made a note to touch up the dye at a later date. With his appearance all fixed up, Molly wandered downstairs, waving to his older sister as she headed upstairs after her shift at the family clinic. The sun rose as the youngest child of the family business set about cleaning the various tools of the trade, both physical and mental. The only sounds that filled the mostly empty clinic was the clinking of metal instruments and the turn of a page. It was still early enough in the morning that no customers would arrive, the quiet atmosphere a perfect theater for the boy to simply study.

Soon the city itself began to come to life, the clamoring of voices rising as people made their way to whatever destination their lives dictated them to go. This too was a familiar sound, the lively bustle an alarm for the boy to raise his head and anticipate the coming customers. And come they did, each request so different yet so similar. As the morning bustle reached its peak, Molly's mother came down the stairs with her white coat pressed neatly and medical knowledge resting on the tip of her tongue. The two set to work, handling all maters of situations. From an older lady who complained about her joints to a young boy who had scraped his knees, the two sent each customer off with a smile. It wasn't easy, per say, of course there were those who were difficult. Yet the morning passed in a blur that Molly could hardly remember. The next thing he knew it, his mother was herding him upstairs as she urged him to go change in preparation for the reaping. Molly didn't see the appeal of it frankly and would be content with simply not watching the games at all. His mother always said that he had a bleeding heart and it was true. Seeing those injured and killed without a second thought from wounds that could have been treated with medical help was agonizing and he despised the commercialized glorification of such a deed.

Regardless, Molly agreed and wrapped himself in the most presentable clothes he owned. A white frilled dress shirt and high waist pants along with a bow that matched his hair tie was what he opted for in the end. His sister laughed at him for his ensemble as was mandated of their sibling relationship and in return Molly pointed out that she was wearing mismatched socks. It was an easy routine to fall into as his Mom came down to herd her two children out the door, the three of them dressed in more or less matching outfits. Mother was left to man the clinic as they set off, chatting amicably as they made their way down to the reaping. The chatter trailed off however, as they arrived at the venue itself, the three sticking close to each other as they were let in. Though for the most oddest reason, both Molly's sister and Mom were barred entrance, only Molly being allowed to pass. There was a confused blink before Molly assured his family that he would be fine before proceeding. That encounter, however, stayed in the boy's mind as he took a place at the edge of the crowd.

---

As the people started to make their way, Charlie's eyes flitted about, her hand had been gently taken by Tayla's and the two had started their walk to what would be the longest moments in their life.

Akane and Jeremy stood in the sea of people, surprisingly enough they were allowed to stand with each other, Rue and Leaf however had been ushered out as they had no victors in their bloodline. Just her and Jeremy.

As the ruckus died down and everyone lined up into place, the mayor stepped forward and began his usual speech about the war and the dark times and how most of the earth and been swallowed up by water leaving behind little land for them to survive on.

---

Natalia rolled her eyes at the mayor’s speech and mumbled something that sounded a lot like “deranged nutcase”. Quite stupid, really. Faith giggled at her friend, but upon seeing the mayor’s pompous look as he announced about dark times without doing anything, she proclaimed loud enough for others to hear, though not realise where the sound was coming from. “ Здоровo, arschloch!” Before transforming into a different person altogether, now with black hair and purple eyes, and continued her walk with Natalia

---

Finally came the part everyone was dreading, the picking. Everyone took a collective breath as he headed over to the ball with girl's names. He reached his hand in and read off the slips one by one, calling each name.

(Everyone does their own characters, girls first then we'll jump back and do the boys.)

Charolette." Charlie felt the color drain from her face, her hand in Tayla's started to shake.

---

It happens without thought. Tayla quickly makes the decision to take Charlie's place. She opens her mouth to object but her words are drowned out by a sudden scream. Tayla turns her head towards the scream to find a familiar family clutching each other. It dawns on her that it's the family from earlier, with the lone ten-year-old girl. Was the girl chosen? Was that actually allowed? Surely there was a rule against this. Yet nobody seemed fazed by this girl being picked.

"I'm sorry" she whispers to Charlie. She wanted to take her place, but Charlie looked like she could hold herself much better than this younger stranger. "I volunteer as tribute!" She shouts out. For a split second, there is silence. For some reason, Tayla had expected a much bigger reaction. Maybe it had something to do with the fact she was willingly throwing herself into the lion's den. This was practically suicide, even to someone like her.

A few eyes fall on her before they turn back to the stage. The only eyes that remain on her were from the Peacekeepers. Tayla has to remind herself that these Peacekeepers only think of her as Tayla Mckee and not Nemesis. No, they weren't staring at her because they knew her, rather, they were preparing for her to flee or impatiently waiting for her to walk on stage.

"Hey Charlie, we have to get moving" Tayla whispers to her. "Don't be afraid, stay strong, everything will be okay," Tayla tells Charlie as she leads her onstage. The sooner they moved the sooner people would look away and allow themselves to get immersed in their own worries. Tayla had intended to stay invisible but that plan quickly failed. Nonetheless, she could improvise and adapt. The job wasn't over yet.

Akane from her spot watched as Tayla took the young girl's place, a feeling of relief swept through her, but it didn't last long. Her name was called and as Jeremy's body tensed next to her she heard Leaf scream out in protest and anguish. But there was nothing to be done, giving Jeremy a final hug she fought the fear inside of her and mounted the stage next to Tayla. When she looked out at the crowd she could see that Rue was trying to console a very emotionally distraught Leaf, who was clinging to Rue and sobbing in the other's shoulder.

All Akane could do was pray for Jeremy's safety.


Charlie looked up at Tayla then back out to the family, the girl was still crying in her family's arms, but they at least seemed greatful.

---

Tyler had stood as far to the front as he could, hoping to hide most of his symbiote from sight. The only obvious sign of it could be written off as a burn scar on his face and two large spikes that jutted up from his shoulder like barbaric decorations. It worked, for the most part, seeing as nobody bothered him and nobody dared to shove him anywhere. Even the Peacekeepers seemed wary of the spikes, random glances across the crowd always settling on his shoulder for a good few moments. With the majority of his purple flesh covered, Tyler felt an odd sense of power; he had a weapon that could destroy every person in the area, if he was attacked. But he was no fighter.. He was a pacifist, so long as he wasn't attacked. A god, maybe, that stayed his hand until he saw it needed. What was that called? Ah, yes.. Neutrality.

---

Cree, on the opposite side of the spectrum from Tyler, stood as far towards the back as possible. He might be a disgusting creature, but he was no rude beast. The half-giant watched over the heads of the crowd, the voice of the Mayor not reaching his insensitive ears. The thought occurred slowly to the Tragedy-clad goliath; what if he had his name called? He wouldn't be able to hear anything! Though, it was a slim chance, Cree knew. He wouldn't get called, just like last year, and the year before.

---

The multi-faceted gaze of Ace took everything in, from new companionships bubbling up in the crowd, to the unsettled shifting of the Peacekeepers when they found his gaze on them. He stood between the stare of an older man, supposedly a parent, and a younger woman. He felt the gaze on his back, harsh and annoyed. However, it turned to a sickened stare when seven eyes opened on the back of Ace's head and made eye contact. The elder man quickly gave a small shudder and averted his gaze towards the stage, listening to the names and voices coming from it.

Finally, after the girls had been rounded up it was the boys' names to be called. Much to Akane's dismay, Jeremy's was the very first one drawn.

Jeremy of course was terrified and Leaf's second cry of dismay only worsened that fear, but for the sake of them, he forced his numb body to move, feeling as if he was being given a personal death sentence. He took his spot next to Akane and the two very subtly held the other's hand as if this would lessen the feeling of dread reverberating between them.

---

Watching the first Tribute for the males get called walk up, Tyler shifted his trench coat over his back a little. He didn't like the idea that a couple would be going into the Games together. If one died, the other would be torn between trying to avenge them, or joining their partner in the bed of death. Tyler shook his head a little, turning his displeased eyes back to the Mayor. The next slip of paper was pulled, only to be stared at for a solid three seconds. "Tyler Jameson." There was a long moment of silence as the Mayor turned his gaze to Tyler. Tyler, however, barely registered that he'd been called forward. At least, not until a Peacekeeper jabbed him in the back with the stock of a gun. Stumbling forward, Tyler realized what had just happened, and gave a scowl to the Peacekeeper behind him. He didn't move to the stairs, instead his simply hauled himself up onto the raised platform, taking his place next to the other Tribute. The infected flesh of his face was on display now, as was the fact that the large spikes on his shoulder were indeed growing out of his body.

Ibaraki disliked cramped places. Perhaps it came to no surprise to anyone who so much as looked at the young child. The short stature Ibaraki sported along with the more inhuman appearance was already cause for others to push the child around, but cramped places were almost always blisteringly hot. With the added heat in the air, the fire running through Ibaraki's veins was near unbearable, the light sheen of sweat beading over pale skin and a lightly heaving chest the only indicator of such pain. The child was jostled and bumped around, indigent cries ignored as other tribute candidates paid no mind, only intent on grabbing a good view to watch the proceedings. With a muted cry, Ibaraki was shoved near the back, small legs stumbling to regain some semblance of dignity. It failed spectacularly as Ibaraki landed on already bruised knees, a wince all that showed of the frustration coursing alongside cursed blood. Gingerly standing up, Ibaraki brushed off the sullied clothes as male names were called up one by one like a death call, each syllable the toll of a bell that signaled the end. At least here in the back no one was trying to shove the child so Ibaraki hurriedly moved to hide among the taller bodies and blend in with the crowd. Though Ibaraki didn't really have to try that hard when beside the child was a slouching giant which drew much of the attention anyways.

---

Another name called and another name closer to safety. Molly disliked thinking as such but it was true. All he had to do was survive this last reaping and he would be safe, never again called upon to participate in this blood sport. Not that he minded being called upon, gladly taking the chance to make the games less bloody than before with his talent for healing. Perhaps it was fate but as that thought escaped his mind, the next name called upon was surprisingly familiar.
"Chrysomallys Athamas" The announcer stumbled over the unfamiliar syllables and completely butchered his family name but Molly accepted it with a peaceful smile. Silently climbing up on stage, he took his place with the other tributes. Unlike the rest, there was no word of protest or need for prompting as he stood beside a boy with infected flesh. Worry ran through his mind but he wisely kept his mouth shut and eyes forward as the reaping proceeded.

---

The sudden noise beneath him drew Cree's attention, an odd shape scrabbling for a view of the stage. The masked monster placed one hand down on the ground, leaning down in his slow fashion to peer at Ibaraki through curious hidden eyes. His voice crept carefully from behind Tragedy, questioning and fascinated. "HhhhhhhhhWho... Hhhhhhhare.... Hhhhhhhhyou?" The breathy words died in the air beyond the two, as if they were indeed more whisper than speech.

---

Ace was the next to be called up, several eyes blinking in confusion as he heard a simple "Ace" from the stage. He soon realized that he had to step up to the stage, and did so with a bit of odd exhilaration. His eyes gazed out over the crowd, a voice coming from a mouth unseen. "There is a much better view from this area."

A gust of whispered air crawled over Ibaraki's skin, making the child squeak in surprise. It was high and breathy, almost inaudible above the crowds as Ibaraki skittered away from the one who had spoken. The pale white mask that greeted Ibaraki had the child startling and a second squeak was clamped down as sleeved hands came up to cover the slack jawed surprise. "Um, are you perhaps talking to me, sir?" Ibaraki ventured, golden eyes flickering around to see if there was anyone else to address. Of course there wasn't any, the others focused on the macabre festivities that continued on stage. "Well it would be awfully rude to not reply even if you weren't talking to me. Well I am-"
"Ibaraki Douji"
The declaration of a familiar name spoken by an unfamiliar voice had the child stiffening. From a young age, Ibaraki was taught to not answer to strangers but well.... that rule had already been broken when speaking to the masked figure. When the name was repeated once again, Ibaraki glanced around frantically, fingers clenching and unclenching along the seams of the coat draped around thin shoulders. "Ah, well that would be me... I suppose.... I have to go.... stay safe Mister." Fear was almost dripping off the trembling voice but Ibaraki still scurried forth, a brief wave spared to Cree as the child ducked between people with mumbled apologies. As Ibaraki neared the stage, the sight of someone else around the same age provided very minimal comfort as the sheer height difference between Ibaraki and the other tributes only emphasized how young Ibaraki really was.

---

Watching the younger Tribute hurry to the stage, Cree rose back to his usual slouched height. He'd hardly heard the Mayor's voice when the smaller of the two had been called forward. However, the next name did make it fairly clearly to the monster's dulled ears. It was loud, of course, to the others gathered. Though, the four letters were quite clear to the beast. "Cree.." A sudden silence fell over the stage as the huge creature started in his lurching, terrible way towards the stage. Wehn he reached it, he simply lifted himself up the front of it, as Tyler had done. He stopped, though, to turn his masked face towards the Mayor. After a good three seconds of horror in the man's face, Cree moved to take his place among the Tributes.