(Pairs on front page!)Vindictus Publici [Revenge of the People] (A Hunger Games RP by Abeiya and CS123)

Blaze

"...Helena Elmas."

It was the girl up front, the screaming, shouting, fists flying, the loud, passionate, rebel girl. With her angry face upon the screen, Blaze realized just how young the girl was. She was arguably the loudest one there in protest. Something was just too deliberate about the choice in tributes. She watched as the girl stormed through the crowd in the opposite direction, almost louder now, shrieking with tears on her face as Peacekeepers followed her out.

Phylicia

Phylicia couldn't help as her smirk grew with the shrieking girl squirming in the forceful hands of authority, dragging her to her rightful place on the reaping stage. She nearly burst out laughing with delight as she saw the girl standing with them, holding her back from leaping off.

But the defiance was still in the young girl's eyes. It felt so intentional to her, like she was staring the woman right in the eye. And the Gamemaker felt her determination rise... she would make this child submit. She would be satisfied only with the girl's long and painful death.

Helena

"...Helena Elmas."

The girl didn't even know how to describe it. The heat the rushed in her veins, the feeling that her own body was shocking itself with lightning, driving her the opposite direction from the stage, that representation of the gates of hell where her death-mates stood. The electricity pumped her legs through the crowd, caused her to shove through at a speed she'd never run at before.

But there were steps right behind her, the footsteps of men forced to be objects of authority, pawns like her, except for those who chose their fates. And as they grabbed her arms, she fought like she had never fought before, screamed at a decibel she never thought she could reach. The tears that had come to her eyes stung in shame, sending more shocks through her.

She would not go down without a fight. This she knew. As they dragged her to the stage, battered as she was, she continued her struggle. The men had to hold her back. She saw her own face on the screen, her fierce stare of defiance, in spite of a reddened face. The Peacekeepers pulled her back as she tried to break from their grasp again, as they tightened their grip. She could feel the bruises forming, but it didn't matter.

Here she was, among the other doomed youth. She would do all that she could to defy the leader who brought them there.

In a low voice, she whispered to herself.

"President Hawthorne is just like Snow..."

The words felt powerful to her. A whisper was not enough.

She saw the announcing man's hand reaching for another name. She remained silent until the other girl approached the stage. Far too innocent looking. A strategy. A desperate ploy, and she knew it.

So once more, Helena spoke.

"President Hawthorne is just like President Snow!" she shouted from the stage, breaking the silence that the other tributes had not had.

One Peacekeeper started to pull her off the stage.

"You've become a monster, Hawthorne! Have you forgotten where you started?! You've become your own enemy!"

Off the stage they pulled her, toward a dark hall beyond it.

"A monster! You'll bring Panem to its end!"

With that, they shoved her out of sight.

Gale threw back his head and laughed this time. It drew the attention of an assistent who was lingering outside his private screening chamber, along with some security. "Mr. President? ...Are you alright?" she asked tentatively through the door.

"More than alright, Miss Harken, more than alright."

"Is it time for your_?"

"No. No, I'm fine."

"Okay..." the young woman relented, unconvinced.

President Hawthorne looked back at the telemonitor. "Miss Elmas, you're wrong, my dear. I haven't forgotten where I came from. Have you forgotten where you come from? What do you know of President Snow? Nothing. I'm not like President Snow..." He downed the rest of his wine and refilled it almost immediately, whispering, "I'm a lot worse than that... Just you wait..."

-----

Clarisse looked up at the hovercraft again. "She's right," she said, glaring around at the Peacekeepers. "She's right! Why can't you come down here and face us, you coward?!" she yelled, "It's because you're afraid of each and everyone one of us! And..!"

She felt two large hands close over her shoulders and a hiss of, "That's enough!" It effectively silenced her for a while.

Helena

Helena was led, though more like dragged and shoved, down a lightless hallway. She struggled as long as she possibly could, before they forced her into an equally lightless room.

"Well, hello there, Miss Elmas," came a woman's syrupy voice. "That was quite the display out there."

The girl swallowed.

"What do you want with me? Are you the head Gamemaker?"

"I want you to understand your position here, Helena. You are a tribute. You understand that. You're going to go into that arena, and you're going to kill those little friends you want to make. You're not going to rebel... you're going to give in. And you might die, you might not. You're only a child."

"I will not go down without a fight."

Helena felt someone's breath too close to her.

"Fighting's gotten you this far, huh? You like fighting, don't you? A real rebel wannabe..."

"I'm no wannabe, I'm..."

"Sh, shh."

The woman's face was near hers, and something thin and sharp pricked her arm. Pain shot through her. She felt the room spinning around her, heard the voices in the room whispering, and shouting all at once...

"Don't worry... You'll have lots of time to fight..." was the only coherent whisper through the thickness of her hallucinations.

Screens surrounded the girl. They turned on and the whispers from the woman continued, as she showed Helena violent, dark, nightmare images of the other tributes...

"These are your enemies... you need to kill them... they only want to hurt you... all you want is to see them dead... and when you're finished... you want to die."

On and the footage played, carving their way into Helena's memory as if they were the truest things she'd ever seen. When that was finished, the woman took the girl's puppet body and started toward a training room.

"You will kill them..." she whispered. "You want them dead. They've brought you here. They're the reason you're in these Hunger Games now. And you want nothing more than to kill them and die. Now, this... is how you will kill them."

The lights turned on.

"Watch me closely... you will do exactly this, with whatever you may find. Pepper first... You will make Starlight your last kill. Hers will be the longest death, next to yours..."

Phylicia

That dark blonde would look wonderful it was as golden as hers. The child sure didn't participate in Capitol tradition. It was a shame, really. She could have been very beautiful. She picked up a blade from the floor of the private training room.

"This is what you will do."

She gestured for the Peacekeepers to bring forth a fellow man of theirs. This was a criminal.

"Phylicia, don't do this... please, please, don't... don't do this..." he pleaded. They had the same eyes... it was sickening.

"You put the knife to the neck like this," she said, illustrating. "Now play close attention."

Helena simply stared in her stupor. Phylicia was quite proud of her formula now. She'd become quite the scientist in her free time. The scent of the venom sent such excitement through her. She glanced down at her other victim. His eyes were enough... so similar... and so filled with agony and terror. A certain euphoria arose in her at the sight of this.

"Make sure you have your grip on there, nice and tight. And then you press down a slight bit... and slash, just like this."

To have felt his blood upon her hands, warm and wet and brilliant scarlet would have almost been more satisfying than seeing the child like this... but she had more in store for both of them. His slight shriek and girlish gasp was enough for now...

"But you press harder. You make sure that person isn't moving, isn't breathing... isn't living. You want them to die, Helena. All you want is for the other tributes to die, and then to die afterward. You understand that, correct?"

One slow nod came from the girl.

"Good, good. I'm glad we're on the same page here. Let's move on..."

Gale looked over the monitor again. Helena Elmas was subdued by several Peacekeepers and dragged from the stage, away from the other tributes. And to think I wanted to get rid of the Peacekeepers at first... He knew some of what Phylicia had in store for the tributes. The woman knew how to create good drama for the viewers, that was for sure.

However, he couldn't say for sure what would befall young Helena. As soon as the next few tributes were drawn, the training sessions would begin. The children would be groomed and paraded around like show dogs, trained for pit fighting. It was funny to look down at the kids and already see who was planning to react peacefully to all this.

Who wasn't going to fight. Who was going to try and stop the disaster that had befallen all of them. And he scoffed at their futility.

Because it was really rather amazing what was left of a human, once you stripped him of his family, his friends, his necessities... his dignity. It was amazing what was left of a human with no human nature.

It wasn't human at all.

A Monster.

-----

Starlight looked around at the faces of the tributes. Where had they taken that girl who protested? The one who was brave enough to say what they were all thinking? Was this what Panem had become under Hawthorne? Back to Panem et circenses.

She looked at each tribute, wondering which ones would make the best allies. She hoped her partner would be everything that she was not. It was their best chance of survival. Scanning for anyone with light in their eyes, she was already thinking like a soldier.

Dying early in the Games was not an option. She needed to show her family that she was a fighter. Show her sponsors that she was a fighter. That her life wasn't worth wasting in the arena. That none of their lives were.

Peacekeeper

The crowd had collectively begun to whisper, wonder what had happened to the tribute they had... escorted... away. Phylicia had sent him to settle them down. He was under her orders now, and he only followed her out of fear for what she would do if he didn't. Someone he had once worked with was up there. Another Peacekeeper under Phylicia's command arrived at his side.

"Are you just going to stand there or are you going to let some mass panic start up? Because I'm sure that's exactly what Feidelm wants," she said, pushing past the young man and taking the order herself. She strode straight up to the announcer, and told him what he needed to say.

"I have just been informed that the tribute, Helena Elmas, will be returning later in the Games, after the reaping, and that she is currently safe and unharmed. There is nothing to be concerned about."

He saw the looks of doubt upon the faces of the tributes, and many of the crowd. He knew, very well, that those words were incredibly wrong. He'd released Phylicia's prisoner to her, saw the knife on his neck. He winced at the thought, because he was well aware that it could be his own fate. But he likely wouldn't be spared. He could only imagine what horrors were in store for that man and the tribute girl.

"Our next tribute is... Norman McAverage."

Norman

Norman's jaw dropped. He was being called as a tribute?! In this outfit?! Well, it was traditional to dress up for the Hunger Games, but would he ever see these clothes again? He ran his fingers through his hair, quickly shifting it, as he briskly walked to the stage. This was certainly surprising.

((-moodwhiplashtiiiiiime!-yeah!gocomicrelief!))

Ariadne wondered what had happened to the girl who was taken away. She found it hard to believe the Peacekeeper's words; that she was safe. Nothing was safe for the tributes now. Ariadne grew angry inside as she thought of what this was all coming to. She clenched her fists as she thought of the fate they had been given. They shouldn't have to go through this. They had no part in the original hunger Games. It was unfair to be punished for a horrible sin committed before their time.

Ariadne looked at her fellow tributes; all scared,innocent, some brave. She silently decided she was not going to fight, unless it was for her own protection. She would try her best to help the other tributes. None of them deserved to die.

The Announcer's hand trembled as he pulled out another innocent girl. As soon as he picked it up, he had to force the name from out of his mouth. "The next tribute is- Maia Brown."
Maia smiled at the Announcer as Kakesu ran to the front. Then wowing the crowd all together, Kakesu Shiawase said sadistly, "I'll take her place...". Now Kakesu calmly walked up onto the stage and stood right next to Ariadne, trying hard to stop the smirk crawling on her lips. As she sickly thought, "All who are standing here except me will die for a good cause, if any of them hates Presdent Gale as much as I do at least. Kakesu showed no fear but only enjoyment as she looked right into the eyes of the shocked crowd and her proud father smiling like nobody there was.

President Hawthorne smirked at Kakesu's confidence. Perhaps we will enjoy tearing you down the most... he thought. He could see the justification in this new tribute's eyes and it fueled his need to crush each and every child called upon that stage. People like Kakesu and Helena were the best to make examples of. You took the strongest, most fiery and righteous of the group and ground them to a pulp. And you will have effectively obliterated the will of all the others.

There's only so much fear a person can take. Gale stared down into the monitor, smirking, and murmured, "Challenge accepted, my dear."

-----

Starlight wasn't sure of what to make of the newest tribute. There was a savage look in her eyes, a struggle to keep down some sort of sick excitement at all this that set Starlight's teeth on edge. The way she jumped at the chance of being a tribute... it was like how a shark jumps out of the water to snatch a sea lion... Unsettling.

She looked down into the crowd and found the eyes of her brother. The shock in his eyes matched the shock in everyone else's. Starlight didn't know whether she wanted to befriend this girl, work with her; or if she wanted to avoid her. Treat her like a rival.

Regardless, her mind will be an interesting one to pick apart. Challenge accepted.

Blaze

Blaze watched in silent observance of all the events, the spectacle of it all. There was no way she believed that the girl taken down was safe. And the other gutsy girl on stage made her more fearful for the tributes' fates. It was easy to tell that she was not unlike the other one. This was all getting out of hand...

"Our next tribute is Blaze [whoselastnameIwillchangetosomethingcooler]."

She froze. Her parents cheered. They really cheered for her, for their daughter possibly walking up to her death. She could hear their excited voices carried by the silence of the subdued crowd. She faced the stage and forced herself to move forward. For a girl who had the appearance of fire, of action, of strength, she felt pretty vulnerable right now. When her gaze caught the screen, she saw that weakness piercing through the gray contacts her parents had requested her to wear. Blaze took her place on the stage, next to the others, and fixed her gaze to anywhere but her parents.

At this moment, she began to realize that she would do all they'd forced her to be taught... and she hated them for it.
---
Katniss

This would end. It would end as soon as it possibly could. Quickly, Katniss exited the crowd, and began to set up a flight in the hovercraft they had arrived in. She couldn't wait for the reaping to be over to speak with him. No matter how many would turn their eyes to the sky. She could feel the fire spreading again... but this time, it might destroy them all.

Up the ladder. And the ground fell away again. They rose, and flew, until they were right next to his craft.

"This is Katniss Everdeen. I would like to request permission to board."

"Absolutely not. No one boards or debarks this craft unless we are firmly on the ground," said one burly Peacekeeper, the head of security for the President's hovercraft. "It's far too dangero_"

"Let her on," murmured Gale.

"But, sir, are you really going to...?"

"Let her on," he said, his voice a command instead of a tentative mutter. "It's better this is overwith sooner rather than later."

A loud mechanical clank soured the air, as a thin metal bridge emerged from District 2's hovercraft to form a connection with District 12's.

"...Very well," the Peacekeeper said, reluctantly. He spoke into the radio that communicated with the adjacent hovercraft. "Permission granted. Katniss Everdeen has permission to board the bridge."

-----

Starlight stared up at the two hovercrafts, biting her lip with anticipation. If anyone can talk him out of it, she can...

Katniss

Katniss boarded the craft, and made her way to the man who had ignited these flames once more. She was momentarily stricken at the sight of him. She'd seen him on television a fair amount of times since the last day they had met. Over three decades ago. He looked like he always had, but older, and he was clearly, at the very least, buzzed. And there was something else in his eyes. Something that she'd never seen in him before.

His seam eyes betrayed a trace of instability that forced her mind back to the days in District 13, to Peeta, when he no longer comprehended what was true or not. But in these eyes, was a confusion of right and wrong.

"Gale... what do you think you're doing?" she began.

Gale braced himself and put on his politician face. He didn't deserve to have her think that there was any part of him from when they were kids that still lingered. He swallowed what he could of the buzz and appeared composed, if a little slower than usual. He needed to achieve the frozen cordiality with her that he did with any other citizen of Panem that needed an explanation. Except there's no schmoozing your way out this time...

"Well, Mrs. Mellark, what does it look like to you?" he asked, standing up and finally meeting her eyes.

They were the same. The same as he remembered them before she'd won the Hunger Games. Before she'd married Peeta. Before his descent into whatever it was he had become.

"It looks like you're sending innocent children off to die," Katniss replied, with similar composure. She could see him put on his icy mask, though it was so very transparent to her right now. She could only wish that it was possible for her to put him at arm's length. All that was in the past had resurfaced within her. And she knew she would not be able to maintain this... and perhaps getting personal would reach him at a deeper level. At who he truly was, deep beneath this thick monster skin he had grown.

((More mood-whiplash!))

Meanwhile, hundreds of feet below, the reaping continued, as the Peacekeepers carefully watched the announcer to make sure he did his job. The announcer's hand was shaking badly, but very few people were paying attention to him. Most eyes were on the hovercrafts floating above them, minds whirling with absurd ideas as to what was going on.

Norma McAverage, however, had her eyes locked on her brother, Norman. Sure, he looked great up there, better than all the other tributes, but what if she never saw him again? They might not be able to trade styling tips again. This thought horrified Norma so much that she almost missed the words that came out of the announcer's mouth:

"...Norma McAverage."

She was shocked. Yes, Norma looked just as wonderful as Norman did, but now both of them were going to have to go get all dirty and fight in these Hunger Games? And the clothes probably wouldn't even be cute! She grumpily flounced up to the stage and, instead of taking a spot at the end of the line, stood next to Norman so they could gossip.

((XD Oh, moodwhiplash.))

Gale couldn't let her do that. He could see the intentions in her eyes and he couldn't let her. If she found a way to tap into whatever relationship they had years ago, there was no turning back. No chance for the salvation of his plan. Staying composed was imperative. Treat her like she's never met you before, Hawthorne.

"It's not about the children, Mrs. Mellark. It's all about driving home a point," he managed a flawless smile, "And you should know all about making sacrifices for the sake of proving a point, shouldn't you, Mockingjay?" He looked off to the side, almost indifferently, but it was all an attempt to break eye contact, "Small details have to be overlooked for the sake of something bigger."

((Norma, you're just so average...))

Norman

Norman was almost grateful that his sister had been called up with him. Now he would definitely have someone to talk to. Though he wasn't sure he wanted her to be in the arena with him, with all the dirt they'd be in... and the rather threatening fellows around them.

"Look at those hovercrafts..." he whispered to her.

Katniss

Katniss drove her gaze into his.

"They tried that for seventy-five years, Gale. Driving home a point with the Hunger Games. It was their original purpose... to illustrate the control that the Capitol had over the Districts. I remember how this place used to disgust you so much before you ever even came here... how everything about it went against everything you stood for," she said, taking a step closer.

"So many times you told me about that in the forest, as loud as you wanted, in spite of the trouble you could have gotten into. We were always good at evading the Peacekeepers, though, at least until Romulus came. I wouldn't imagine you forgot that."

The memories themselves were almost too much for Katniss... they were so vivid, just like the rest of them. The whip to Gale's back, the blood, his hand gripping hers in the house as her mother treated him... it had been so long, and yet she saw it all.

"That was just awful... And all because of that oppressive capital you hated. You've changed so much since those years in District 12. It's unbelievable..."

Gale took a deep breath at the memory of Romulus Thread, the Head Peacekeeper who had savagely beaten him for poaching in District 12. His back was still a mangled mess of scars that would never leave him from that day. His eyes narrowed. How dare she mention him. How dare she.

"This place still disgusts me, Katniss. It's part of why I'm doing this. I won't be proving a point for seventy-five years just to tear into the same wound over and over. This isn't about a power trip. It's about closure," he explained. "Some of us are still hurting from those seventy-five years. The rest of Panem isn't like you," he said, his voice becoming a bit more gentle, "We don't forgive as easily you do."

"It's the end of bread and circuses. Forever. Panem will be forever united in its pain." Then he stated a little more quietly, "There is nothing you can say to me to stop it."

Norma

Norma looked up at the hovercrafts. Both of them were such bland colors. She just didn't know how two people who were so important could go for something that was so boring. It was just completely illogical to Norma.

She looked down the line of tributes and wrinkled her nose at them. How could they dress like that? Even on a day that wasn't the reaping day, they should be dressed more fashionably. They all could have done something better with their hair and makeup. If any of them were even wearing makeup. She groaned. If she had to be televised while looking anything like the other tributes did right now, then she deserved to be shot.


Zane

Zane, like many of the Capitol citizens, had his eyes locked on the hovercrafts above. He hoped that Katniss would be able to somehow talk President Hawthorne out of having the Hunger Games. Yeah, the Capitol seriously messed up by having the original Games, but all of the people being chosen for these Games had nothing to do with anything back then.

"Gale, doing it all over again is not going to unite them. Causing more pain will not bring this place any closer to peace, won't give us any closure... For as many people as there are who agree with what you're doing, there are just as many who do not. And they don't all live in the Capitol. Capitol children and District children may seem incredibly different, but they're still children, or at least adolescents, and they were not the ones who made all of this happen to Panem so many years ago. Why are you punishing them, Gale? And... I haven't entirely forgiven those who caused us pain back then. I just try not to dwell on it, as much as it comes up in my head. I shouldn't have brought up the past, but Gale... you can't do this. You, of all people, I thought would have studied history much more than what you're demonstrating now."

Katniss knew she had reached something sensitive, though she hated herself for doing it. The way his voice gentled, and the words that accompanied them, made her recall his former disposition. She swallowed, and wished she could rid herself of the ache that had began to spread within her.

"No matter how hard you try with this, Gale... it's going to make the cycle happen again. And who knows how few people will be left if that happens?" she said, solemnly.

She wished that there had been a way to take back the moment they were driven apart. Her mind forced her to see a girl with a ducktail sticking out of her skirt... and flames engulfing her. There was no way to remain composed with that image in her head.

Kakesu stared at the to hovercrafts flying above her with great disapointment even though she tried not to show it. She knew that if President Hawthorne was the horrible person who she now thought that he was, she would have to murder him as soon as she could. She had to stop the pain he loved to inflict so much, and maybe The MockingJay would help her. Even if a few people must fall, more will rise and use reblion to win the fight.

Gale looked upon Katniss and sorrow flickered into his eyes, only lasting a moment, before being smothered by frigidity. "Because the most efficient way to punish their parents and grandparents, Katniss, is to punish them. Experience has taught me that much and my advisors have agreed this is in Panem's best interest right now." He couldn't show her that somewhere deep inside, he knew she was right. He knew this was all wrong. But there was no stopping it now. It was bigger than just him.

"It's too late to stop it now. There's blood in the water and the feeding frenzy has already begun. I promise you the end result of all this will not be the same as it was thirty years ago," he said, using his politician voice to the fullest extent.

"I can see that this conversation has emotionally compromised you," he said, speaking like the soldier the years in District 2 had turned him into. "Perhaps it is best if you return to your vessel. Besides," he said, looking her in the eyes again, their flinty intensity boring relentlessly, "You knew before you came here that there was no reasoning with me."

Foliage

Foliage had only minutes ago stood eagerly, as far forward in the crowd as he could muster. His eyes had seemed to pierce through the swarm of people with their sharp, electrifying deep blue that they so often lacked. He couldn't believe, a few minutes ago, that he had a chance to be here. He had known this day would be permanently etched into history. And he had been living it. He imagined sitting down with his grandchildren and saying, "The first Capitol games? I was standing right there, watching as it happened." Even the proudest of the proud would tip their sly, smug smiles at the mention of Foliage's attendance. His father had stood next to him, occasionally turning a nervous eye to the protesters only feet away from them. That one girl, in particular, had worried his father. So rowdy. The poor girl's parents must have all sorts of trouble with her.

Foliage's mother, on the other hand, hadn't come along. She had refused to attend. This had confused Foliage. She felt more than anyone that the Districts hadn't deserved the grasp that the Capitol had held them in so long ago. Why wouldn't she be excited to see the tables turned for the revenge of the Districts? Yet, she couldn't quell her hysterical outbursts enough to have the privilege to come. Foliage hadn't tried to dwell on these questions for too long. His mother had always been unpredictable. Besides, it didn't matter right then. A few minutes ago, all that mattered was that he was here.

He had silently compared everything to what he had read before. It was like someone had taken his favorite story and put him smack dab in the middle of it. The Announcer's voice had started to hover above him by then, muffled through the roaring of the hurricane of his own thoughts. He knew that the Announcer must have been explaining how everything was going to work. But Foliage already had already known.

By heart.

The Announcer hadn't sounded like Foliage always thought he would. He had always imagined a commanding, confident voice. But from what Foliage could hear in the minutes before the announcements, there wasn't gut-busting confidence bursting from the man as he continued to speak. It had a tint of...what? Nervousness? Doubt? Foliage couldn't quite place it, but it just felt...strange. And the feeling throughout the huge mass of patrons watching on had felt different than he thought it would, too. Couldn't see that they were attending one of the most defining moments in history? They would all be a part of it, just like he would! Yet, he couldn't shake the feeling that something weird was surging through everyone watching while it was just beginning.

Foliage never considered being chosen before. There were so many eligible teens in the Capitol that his chances had to be extremely slim. Though, he did recall reading about how they would rig the drawings...but why would they single out him? He wasn't particularly interesting, besides his use of District-style clothing. But that was for his mother's sake. It wasn't his choice. His father had gently nudged him in the arm, snapping Foliage out of his haze only minutes ago, and had gestured toward someone going up onto the stage.

And his heart had plummeted.

Foliage hadn't seen a Capitolite. He hadn't seen the child of a previous mass murderer who had completely devastated the Districts for so many years. He hadn't seen a worthy torture subject. All Foliage could see, as a realization had slowly dawned on him, was a person. An innocent, normal person who had a family. Possessions. A life. And this person was having it all torn away from him. There would be no grandchildren for him to talk to when he grew older. He wouldn't be able to live out whatever his dreams might be. And it was all because of this game.

Foliage had quickly diverted his eyes as the dark, consuming feeling started to take over his body. This person had done nothing, and he was being punished! Punished for something that happened before he was even born! What it all meant had started to slide into focus. Of course his mother didn't want to come. She hadn't wanted innocent people to suffer for what happened a lifetime ago. These sick, bloody games had driven the nation so sharply apart in the past, and now they would do the same thing. Foliage had looked back at the protesters and gave silent admiration toward them. They knew. At that point, Foliage didn't want to be there anymore. He had started to see these games in a whole different light. He bet that his mother would be ecstatic when he told her about how he felt, seeing that person volunteered against his will. Then, Foliage had let his body numb itself from the events around him. He had distracted himself as much as he could, and had drenched himself in his own thoughts as he had always loved to do before. The Announcer's voice had become like a merciless metronome to him, ticking agonizingly in the background as he had tried to ignore it as much as he could. Boy, girl, boy, girl, boy, girl...over and over and over again.

He had tried not to focus on the tributes, but he couldn't help feeling a jab of anger when they had called up the girl who had been protesting so wildly before. It was so obvious to him a few minutes ago, when she was called, that they had rigged the drawing just for her. When they dragged her away afterward, Foliage had read enough to know that they weren’t just giving her a pep talk down there. When Katniss and her family had arrived, including the amazing Peeta Mellark, the dark feeling that had bogged down Foliage started, bit by bit, to lift. His idol was there. And along with the previous Mockingjay's help, he had thought they could stop this...they could stop this! The exultant feeling that had been starting to overcome the darker one almost wasn't interrupted. Watching Katniss speak to the president, only minutes ago, on their hovercrafts, almost made him tune out what the Announcer had said next. Almost.

"Our next tribute is...Foliage Izon."

Almost immediately, the numbness spread over his body. That couldn't be me, he thought. Izon. It's pronounced EE-ZONE. Not EYE-ZON. But people got that wrong all the time. It had to be someone else. But as he was lead onstage, his vision blurring as the life-altering words processed, it was him. Everything slowed down. And yet, in the back of his mind, that gnawing thought kept on tormenting him. You're a part of history now. That's what you wanted, right? Well, now I'm going to be part of history forever. The sick irony of it all twisted at his throat and made it nearly impossible to keep a steady breath. All he could do now was focus on the hovercraft above the people and hope for the best. In his desperate daze, he didn't even notice the familiar girl standing next to him.

Kakesu didn't bother to look at the familar face next to her. She was too immersed in thought to even remember his name. All of her attention was focused on the hovercrafts above her. Then at that very moment a sick,vile,sadistic smile broke onto her face. She knew now the show would have to go on, from the looks of how long Everdeen and President Hawthorne were talking. She then thought about how she should have more...pity...torwards these people, but it was almost impossible for her to not be excited about the Hunger Games. Some people may say it's sick or wrong, but she thinks it's spectacular entertainment.

Abeiya wrote:

Gale looked upon Katniss and sorrow flickered into his eyes, only lasting a moment, before being smothered by frigidity. "Because the most efficient way to punish their parents and grandparents, Katniss, is to punish them. Experience has taught me that much and my advisors have agreed this is in Panem's best interest right now." He couldn't show her that somewhere deep inside, he knew she was right. He knew this was all wrong. But there was no stopping it now. It was bigger than just him.

"It's too late to stop it now. There's blood in the water and the feeding frenzy has already begun. I promise you the end result of all this will not be the same as it was thirty years ago," he said, using his politician voice to the fullest extent.

"I can see that this conversation has emotionally compromised you," he said, speaking like the soldier the years in District 2 had turned him into. "Perhaps it is best if you return to your vessel. Besides," he said, looking her in the eyes again, their flinty intensity boring relentlessly, "You knew before you came here that there was no reasoning with me."

Katniss caught that sorrow, held that moment in her head, focused on it. There was truth to his words, but her mind would also not be changed.

"You know what's going to happen, Gale. As much as you try to justify it... there's only going to be more blood in the water, and the majority of it will be unnecessary. You can't tell that the result will not be the same... What you're doing will only make things worse. Setting up the Hunger Games again is simply going to guarentee that Panem will never be at peace. Things were shaky before you got here, and now you're ensuring that we will always be unstable... more death is to come from this, more than just the deaths of 23 innocent children. Don't believe for a second that this isn't going to send us into another season of bloodshed. Those kids are just the beginning, Gale," she said, gesturing to the screen.

She knew that extending this time might be entirely futile. But she wanted to believe that she could change his mind. She wanted to make him change his mind... but some part of her knew that there was absolutely nothing she could say to make him do that.
---
Rose

Rose had nearly screamed when Arthur was called, feeling physical pain at the sight of him approaching the stage. She knew that he was a completely capable, noble person, but this could be his end. She hadn't told him yet, but after all that time they'd spent in District 12 together, she knew that the feelings that she had begun to have about him were not just friendly. She had wanted to tell him. She'd wanted the two of them to stay home in District 12, desperately hoping that it would eliminate his chances of being reaped... but knowing the new president and the way the Gamemaker seemed to handle things, they could've called his name from all the way there and sent him by force on hovercraft.

She watched as each tribute took their place. It was all entirely wrong. Her mother had taken their vessel up to President Hawthorne... she didn't know what to think. She saw the way her mom reacted to this sort of thing. All that bravery was a show. But here she was, trying to talk the President out of doing this crazy, bloody, show again. But she likely wouldn't convince him... not even an old friend could convince him. She wished she would have talked her out of it. It was a futile act, all of it.

Gale smiled at that last sentence. "Well, you're all too right about that," then he added muttering, "Only the beginning..." His voice regained its strength, "And if bloodshed is what it takes, so be it. But I will ensure that the Districts will never be under the power of the Capitol ever again. Any Loyalist movement will be crushed and no president after me will every have to worry about it again, nor will any following generations."


"It'll be as though the Games never happened. We'll stop telling our children about it and they won't see the difference between one District, the other or the Capitol."

He looked upon her with pity now, "How long are you going to kid yourself, Katniss? Just thinking to yourself that you can change my mind doesn't make it true." He added a bit more quietly, "Just because you haven't changed doesn't mean I haven't, Katniss."

-----

Starlight stared up at the hovercrafts floating far above the square. "It's hopeless..." she murmured, tears almost overtaking her eyes. She fought them back. This was the absolute worst time to show any weakness to the other tributes or anyone watching the reaping. Gale was a soldier and somewhere inside he wanted what he had been trained all his life to get: Blood. This was his way of doing it.

He won't stop until all but one of us is dead... or he is...