Disclaimer: The Hunger Games is not mine.
Note: Welcome to the Tenth Hunger Games! I apologize for taking a little longer than expected; Easter break was a bit busy for me. Just a few things before we get started.
First of all, thank you to everyone who submitted a tribute. We've definitely got an interesting batch this time around, and I'm looking forward to writing them. Reapings will begin next chapter. There's also a blog. (There's a link to it on my profile.) Mentors – both previous victors and Capitol mentors – are already up on the blog. Tributes will be posted as they're introduced in-story.
Second, I just want to mention that this is a sequel, in every sense of the word. As such, there will be occasional references to the previous story, particularly in this chapter, because the focus of this one is our most recent victor's Victory Tour. No, you don't have to read Doomed to Die first. This story will be able to stand on its own, and I promise not to spend this entire story mourning the last story's tributes. But, on the other end of the spectrum, I don't want these characters – particularly the mentors – to act as if the Ninth Hunger Games never happened. And there are a few tributes whose stories are intertwined with those from the last Games. (A few of them even make an appearance in this chapter.) I'm going to do my best not to beat you over the head with continuity, but it will be there.
Lastly ... Enjoy. We SYOTers take ourselves a bit too seriously sometimes, I think, but, in the end, this is all for fun. And it's going to be a fantastic ride. So sit back, relax, and enjoy life at the Edge of Chaos.
Edge of Chaos
The Tenth Hunger Games
Until You Are There
Victor of the Ninth Hunger Games
Harakuise didn't even notice the thief until the peacekeeper called his name.
Peacekeeper-in-training, actually; Harakuise knew every law enforcement official in District Five on sight. The young man's name was Cyne Whitten. "Mr. Swallot!" he called out again, his hand clenched tightly around the wrist of a young girl, no more than thirteen or fourteen. "I believe these are yours." The young peacekeeper held out a pair of cuff links.
Harakuise held back a laugh as he glanced at his own wrists and realized that his cuff links were, indeed, missing. He looked back at the girl. She was struggling, terrified, but Cyne held her fast. Maybe she hadn't realized who he was. Maybe she was desperate enough to try to steal from him, anyway. And it had almost worked; she deserved some credit for that. It wasn't everyone who could sneak up on Harakuise Swallot and live.
Of course, whether she lived now was entirely up to him.
In an instant, Harakuise put on his most convincing smile, beaming at the girl as he took his cuff links back from Cyne. "I'd been looking for those! Thank you so much for finding them; I must have dropped them in the street. And I bet you were about to return them to me, too. Thank you very much, young lady. Ammet!" he called to another peacekeeper, who turned immediately. "Would be so kind as to escort this young lady to my house? Tell Jai that she has done me a great service and should be rewarded accordingly. I'd do it myself, but—"
"Victory tour leaves soon," Ammet finished. "I'll see to it."
Ammet led the girl away, leaving Cyne staring at Harakuise, puzzled. After a moment, the young peacekeeper blinked a few times, as if clearing his head. "Where's he taking her?"
"My house," Harakuise shrugged. "I'd see to the matter myself, but, as I said, I'm on a bit of a schedule. Jai's better with these sorts of things, anyway."
"What sorts of things? You don't seriously intend to give her a reward for pickpocketing you?"
"Attempting to pickpocket me," Harakuise corrected. "She was unsuccessful, thanks to your vigilance, and no harm was done. Jai will give her a good meal and maybe a small reward, if she manages not to run away first."
"But isn't it your job to…" Cyne didn't seem to know how the sentence should end.
Harakuise shook his head. "Remember who you're talking to, Cyne. My 'job,' such as it is, is to mentor two children and try to bring one of them home alive from a fight to the death. The rest of the year, my 'job' is to sit around in my luxuriously large home in Victors' Village and enjoy my spoils. That's it. Everything else, I do because it's my passion. And my passion, Cyne, is making certain that this district is safe. Tell me, do you truly believe that girl is a threat to this district?"
"I…" Cyne looked away. Of course he didn't. But he – and every other peacekeeper – had been trained to treat every criminal, no matter how small, as a threat to order and safety. It was a difficult barrier to break through.
"Let me put it another way," Harakuise offered. "Would you rather catch a pickpocket, or someone who's actually planning an armed rebellion?"
That was a much easier question. "The rebel, of course."
"I'm glad we agree," Harakuise nodded. "And I have a history of doing just that. But there's a compromise to be made there. Where do you think most of my information comes from?"
Cyne shrugged. "I always assumed you had people who—"
"I do," Harakuise confirmed. "You just met the newest one. Jai's managed to organize the district's runaways, urchins, homeless, and such into a network of sorts. If one of them hears something, I hear it. And children – well, they hear everything, go everywhere, usually unnoticed. So I'll ask you again, Cyne. Who would you rather execute – that little girl who was only stealing from me so that she could eat, or the rebels she's going to help me locate?"
Cyne nodded. "I understand."
Harakuise smiled. "Good. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go spend two weeks reminding the districts that twenty-three of their children are dead."
Harakuise thought he saw a fleeting look of … something – maybe anger, maybe grief – on the young man's face, but it was quickly hidden again. "Good luck, Mr. Swallot."
Harakuise nodded crisply and headed for the train station.
"What are you going to say?"
Harakuise looked up at his former mentor – now his fellow victor – and shrugged. "Whatever comes to mind," he offered, attempting to appear nonchalant. In reality, he had spent several long nights wondering the exact same thing, and had finally decided on the perfect words to say in each district. But if he could fool everyone – including Tania – into thinking that his words were off-the-cuff, all the better.
He had some vague memories of other victory tours coming to Five, but nothing they had said about the tributes stood out in his mind. Most of them had simply read pre-written speeches about honor and pride and the Capitol. Which was all well and good, but Harakuise wanted to say more than that. He wanted to leave an impression.
It was difficult because he had really only known a handful of the tributes, and even those, during the Games, he had seen as competition. Twenty-three tributes who had to die in order for him to live – nothing more. But now that the Games were over – now that he was safe – he could afford to see them for what they were. Children. Children with lives and families and loved ones who would be listening. Wondering what he would say.
He could use that.
Most of the previous years' speeches had focused on the Capitol. He meant to turn the attention back to the districts. Yes, it was the Capitol that had defeated the rebels, but they could never have done it without help. Help from loyalists in the districts – people like his father – who were willing to lay down their lives for peace and order across Panem. People who had pride in their district, belief in the dignity of its people. If he could present the tributes as people to be proud of – people to admire – rather than people to be pitied, it would only help restore that pride.
Of course, he didn't bother saying any of this to Tania. She wouldn't understand. The very thought of the Games still terrified her. And that was all right. Sometimes terror could be effective.
But dignity was better.
Fallen Tributes: Heloise Cache and Aldo Retchwood
"Heloise died early not because she was weak but because she was fearless. She charged headlong towards the Cornucopia because she knew that was what would give her and her allies their best chance. It was a gamble, and she lost, but it's one she was right to take, for she understood that risk is a necessary part of the Games. She took that risk for you – for her family, her district. She wanted to make you proud. And you should be."
Rosaline and Jemel, Heloise's aunt and uncle, held each other's hands tightly. He was right; Heloise had been fearless. Just like her parents. Now they were all gone. Meron and Gretel had been secretly planning rebellion, and Heloise's death had been enough to bring them out of hiding. They had been fearless, just like Heloise, and, like her, they had taken a gamble.
And, just like her, they had lost.
"Aldo was my ally, I'm proud to say. When he died, he was on his way out onto the marsh to retrieve a parachute. I've often wondered why – why he was willing to risk his life over what ended up being a little bit of food. But that moment was about more than retrieving food. He was claiming what was rightfully his – a gift from his sponsors, and from his mentor. Aldo and his mentor had their differences, but, in the end, my ally stepped up to claim his birthright both as a son of District Twelve and of the Capitol. And his family – both of his families – should be very proud."
Silently, Annika cried into her husband's shoulder. It wasn't true. Aldo had never accepted that monster – his biological father – as part of his family, his birthright. He had been desperate enough to accept help from the Capitol, yes, but that didn't make him one of them. He was their son. Theirs, not the Capitol's. Not Pardeck's. Theirs.
And he always would be.
Fallen Tributes: Lordez Miller and Sher Haimish
"Lordez gave you a gift, Sonya. When she took your place in the Games, she did more than save your life; she gave you an example. An example of honor and sacrifice – the very things the Games are about. She made a sacrifice, risked her own life to save yours, because she must have believed that your life was worth it. Make it worth it. Remember her courage, her dignity, and her loyalty to her friends and to her district."
Sonya stood alone, nodding silently. Lordez hadn't given her life so that she could stand here wallowing in her grief. She had to move on. She had to live. That was the best way to honor Lordez's memory – by living. Living the life that Lordez had believed was worth saving.
If only it were as easy as the boy's words made it sound.
"I killed Sher. There's no easier way to say that, so let's get that out of the way first. I killed him because I thought that he was the only one in the arena who was my equal – a worthy opponent, a like mind. I was wrong. He wasn't my equal; he was better. Smarter, braver … and more reckless. Heedless of his own safety because he couldn't bear an unsolved puzzle, couldn't say no to a challenge. His pride, his confidence, his intelligence – they were his downfall, but also his gift. I killed him, but I can also say that I am truly proud to have known him. And you should be, too."
Mycr cocked an eyebrow, surprised not by the words but by the sincerity behind them. The boy could easily have spouted the same pathetic sort of speech he had invented for Lordez – honor and sacrifice and courage. Instead, when he spoke about Sher, he'd straightened up a little more. His voice had changed. He'd stopped shifting his weight a little. He'd made eye contact not only with Mycr, but with Binix, who stood beside him, glaring back at the young victor. His speech was still rehearsed, the words carefully chosen, but these ones rang true.
Sher had won, after all.
Fallen Tributes: Libby Hall and Wulfric Harding
"Libby was you. All of you. Each and every one of you who lives in fear of the Games, terrified that your name might be called. She was afraid, but, in the end, she rose above that fear. The girl who led her allies deep into the darkness in the heart of the mountains was not the same girl who fainted when she was reaped, who cried through her interview, who ran terrified from the bloodbath. She found something in the arena. She found her courage. That's what the Games do – they bring out the best in us, parts of ourselves that we never would have known otherwise. Libby found herself in the Games, and she died a different person – a better person – than most of you knew."
Okra wrapped an arm around his son, Javis. Libby had always been that person – always been the same kind, loving, gentle soul she had been when she died. The Games had simply put that kindness onstage for all of Panem to see. Of course she had been scared – anyone in their right mind was terrified of the Games – but she'd had the courage not to hide it. She'd been honest, decent, right from the moment her name had been called until that fateful night in the caves. She'd been true to herself, to the person he'd always known she was.
"Wulfric was a hero. Like Libby, the Games brought out the best in him – a drive to save his allies, his friends … and even his enemies. I remember watching the highlights of the Games and being surprised – shocked, even – that a tribute would go out of his way to save an opponent from a bloodthirsty spider, knowing that, sooner or later, one of them would have to die if the other one was to live. I could understand doing that for an ally, a friend … but Wulfric did it for a stranger. That was amazing. It was heroic. It was … human."
Jackson rolled his eyes. Wulfric wasn't a hero – just a decent human being. But that was something that, in the Hunger Games, could only end in death or insanity. Or both. Harakuise had conveniently left that part out – the part where his ally's death had driven Wulfric into a mad rage that left him rampaging into the largest alliance in the arena. If only he could have kept his senses then, he might have had a chance. If he'd waited, he might have been able to make it home. Maybe. Maybe.
If only he'd been a little less human.
Fallen Tributes: Antiquity Kirsh and Husk Fange
"Antiquity was never afraid. I saw that during training. While other tributes had fear in their eyes or tears in their voices, Antiquity was calm. Constant. Certain. She was the first to fall, but she would have been the last to break, and, for that, you should be proud."
Historia brushed the tears from her eyes. She wasn't proud. But she wasn't quite sure what she felt. Antiquity had pulled away from her family years ago; they had lost her to her own apathy long before they had lost her to the Games. But Historia had always hoped, somehow, that her sister would come back, that they could be close again. Now the loss was permanent. But it didn't quite feel sad.
It just felt final.
"Husk was a fighter. There's no denying that. That's how he entered the Games, and that's how he left them – fighting. I see he had no family to return to, but that simply means that he was fighting that hard for you. For all of you. For the honor of his district. Remember that, and be proud."
Wind. The wind whistled through the fields of District Nine and across the empty stage where Husk's family should have been – would have been, if their deaths hadn't preceded his. Shay Harlan, now the owner of the Fange family's wheat company, stood in their place, but it was only a formality. He had never been close to any of Husk's family, and it was no secret that most of District Nine had been afraid of the boy. Now the last member of the Fange family was gone, but the company would go on.
Life would go on.
Fallen Tributes: Nicoline Peters and Zione Brink
"Nicoline would be happy today. She would be happy to see you, standing here, safe. She was a gentle soul, and, for that, she will always hold a special place in your hearts. But she was also adaptable. She played the Games, and she played them well. She weighed her options, assessed risks … and even killed. She knew the odds were against her, but, even so, she made it farther than most would have imagined. She wouldn't want you to mourn. She would want you to be proud. And to be grateful for your own lives."
Shaw clenched his fists. He was right; they shouldn't be mourning. At least, they shouldn't be mourning Nicoline. She should be here with them. She should have made it home. Could have made it home, if only he'd been at her side. He could have protected her. He could have saved her.
But it was too late.
"Zione was a rebel. And if I were to stand here and tell you that I took no satisfaction in killing him … I would be lying. The rebellion, the destruction, the death – people like him are the reason the Hunger Games exist, to prevent such bloodshed from ever happening again. As a rebel, he had a hand in that, however small, so maybe it's fitting that he met his end in that arena. Nonetheless, most of you didn't know him as a rebel. You knew him as a neighbor, a coworker … maybe a friend. You also knew him as the hero who saved a boy at the reaping. And that's how you should remember him. Whatever he did during the rebellion, he's paid for it in full. Let that be forgotten, and remember the good he did. Remember the best."
Polaknia looked around quietly at the people of District Eight. Before the reaping, Zione had been unknown to most of them. He'd kept his distance, probably as much for their sake as for his own. In a few years' time, most of them would forget the brave rebel boy who volunteered in the place of Nicoline's brother. Most of them would forget how he had revealed himself in the arena, pronouncing himself a rebel and daring the Capitol to strike him down. Most of them would forget, soon enough.
But she would remember.
Fallen Tributes: Cahra Sheed and Sterling Therms
"Cahra was never afraid of the Games. She made that clear from the start. But, more than that, she was determined. She knew what she would have to do to win, and she was willing to do it. She was willing to play the Games, to fight, to kill. She understood what it was to be a tribute, and her fearlessness set a fine example – an example for your district's tributes for years to come."
Kendrick shook his head. An example? Cahra had been fearless, yes. Reckless, even. But that recklessness had nearly cost her her life at the Cornucopia, and then, later, she had refused to run from Ella when her ally had turned on her, choosing instead to stay and fight the older girl with only a few sharpened sticks. Kendrick held his wife close. He loved his daughter – always had, always would. But an example for District Seven's tributes?
That was a bit absurd.
"Sterling saved my life. Not directly, but he saved Brie, and I have no doubt that, without Brie, I would never have made it out of that arena. Bailey, your father was a hero. He wanted nothing more than to come back to you, but, instead, he chose to save the life of another. And although she died, as well, his sacrifice was not in vain. You no longer have him, but you have his memory, precious and pure. Remember that, and remember that he loved you."
Abi held her niece close, trying not to cry. Trying to be strong. Sterling had come so close. She had always known he had a chance, and she had begun to hope that maybe – maybe – he would be the one to leave the arena. But now that hope was long gone. All she had left of her brother were her memories … and the little girl standing beside her. Abi held Bailey even tighter, silently vowing that she would never let go. She would protect Bailey.
Fallen Tributes: Prius Gazer and Pike Carter
"Prius wasn't one of you. She could have lived out the rest of her life, happy and secure, safe in the knowledge that she would never be reaped. She would never be forced into the Games. Instead, she chose to participate. She chose to represent your district because she saw something in you – some hidden greatness beneath the surface of your crumbling buildings and your crowded streets. She looked at you, at the people of District Six, and saw a people worth representing, a people worth fighting for. She was proud – proud to risk her life for greatness, for honor, for glory. She was proud of you. Remember her the same way."
Janus wiped the tears from his eyes. He could have stopped her. It would have been so easy, so easy to make an excuse to leave the district for a day, and then return after the reaping. If he'd only known what she was planning, he would never have let her stay, never have let her attend the reaping. But he hadn't known. He had never known, really, what his daughter was thinking.
Now he would never know.
"Pike wasn't the strongest tributes. He wasn't the smartest. He wasn't the best suited to survival. But, after watching the highlights of the Games, I think I can safely say he was the bravest – certainly braver than I. When it comes to courage, how we deal with death is at least as important as how we deal with life, and Pike faced his death with dignity. He chose to face death alone rather than drag his allies down with him. I … don't know if I could have done that. Remember that sacrifice, and remember it well."
Axel wrapped an arm around his mother and the other around his sister, Azure. He even managed to smile a little. Harakuise was right; Pike had died bravely. Happy, even. Happy that his allies were safe, that his sacrifice had meant their survival. He had been content with that. He had been at peace.
And now nothing could hurt him.
Fallen Tributes: Ella Halliwell and Mars Servitt
"Ella was a force of nature. She found her strength in the arena, a strength that helped her move past her fear. The girl that Brie and I faced at the end of the Games was not the same girl who entered the arena. She was stronger, braver, more determined. If things had gone a little differently, she could have won. Take comfort in that, and remember her strength and her courage."
Mira shook her head silently. That girl at the end of the Games – that hadn't been her daughter. The arena had driven Ella mad. She had killed two allies purely out of fear, and then killed another girl who had done nothing to her. That wasn't her daughter. That wasn't Ella. Mira didn't want to remember any of that. She would remember the Ella that she knew, not the one who had made it to the finale of the Hunger Games.
She would remember.
"Mars knew what he was doing. He volunteered in his sister's honor, but I don't think he ever meant to leave that arena. In that sense, he accomplished his goal. I'm certain he meant to personally accomplish more before his own death, but maybe if he were here, he would agree that, once the Games are over, it doesn't particularly matter whether those tributes died by his hands or by another's. The people he set out to kill are dead. That will have to be enough for him – and for you."
Derk stared off into the distance, barely hearing what Harakuise said. He was right – it didn't matter, in the end. Didn't matter whether Mars had died earlier or later, who he killed or who killed him. His son was dead. But it had been his choice. He had wanted to volunteer, ever since his sister's death. He had pushed himself, punished himself, driven himself to be ready to avenge his sister.
Now, maybe, he could finally have some peace.
Fallen Tributes: Lina Leto and Tracer Norren
"I didn't know Lina. During training, she and Tracer kept mostly to themselves. They seemed to have grown close, and his death hit her hard. But I think any death would have. She was a quiet, private girl, not very suited for a fight to the death. Even so, she did her best, and survived longer than some who could be considered stronger. Because the Hunger Games aren't just made for the strong or the skilled. Anyone has a chance, if they're willing to try. And try she did."
Yadon didn't look up. Of course his sister had tried. But that hadn't been enough. Simply 'trying' never seemed to be enough for District Three, one of only four districts without a victor. He had hoped – naively, perhaps – that Lina would be the first. Instead, she had died on the first day, killed by one of her own allies. Yes, she had tried, as anyone would have, but the odds had been stacked against her.
And she had failed.
"I'm sorry to say that I know even less about Tracer. But, even though he was a stranger to me, he was well known to you. You – his family, his friends, his neighbors – knew him, and you will remember him. Tracer fell early in the Games, forgotten by some – but not by you. You who knew him well, you will never forget his courage or his honor. Remember him well."
Marx had to fight to keep from rolling his eyes. It was a standard speech, but he hadn't really expected anything else. What was the boy supposed to say? He hadn't known Tracer. They hadn't been allies. They had probably never even spoken to each other. True, the speech he had given wasn't much, but it was something. And something – even a rehearsed, customary speech – was at least a little better than nothing.
But only a little.
Fallen Tributes: Kiona Brink and Equinox Kunzite
"Like Zione, Kiona was a rebel, and I never saw her as anything other than an opponent. But, even when facing the enemy, we can find something to admire, and Kiona's strength and dedication were truly admirable. She applied them to the wrong cause, to be sure, but it was a cause she believed in – however misguidedly. As I said of Zione, her debt has been paid. Her crimes have been punished. Now all that remains is to remember the good. Remember the girl you knew, not the rebel hidden inside her."
Vivienne, Kiona's foster mother, nodded along with Harakuise. She and her husband had tried their best to raise the girl well after the war, but, despite their best efforts, she had clung to her rebel heritage. And now she had paid the price. The Capitol had personally seen to it that she died in the Games. And Harakuise, a Capitol loyalist like themselves, had won. Because that was how the Games worked.
The Capitol always won.
"Equinox was my ally, the best I could have asked for. Strong, brave, a warrior – he was the sort of tribute I would ally with again in a heartbeat, and, if we had met outside the Games, we may have been friends. As it was, only one of us could win, and I'm almost grateful that he died when he did, so that we didn't end up having to face each other. Because I'm not sure that's a fight I would have won. He went down fighting, as he was always going to, and, for that, you should be proud."
Automne didn't hear most of what the boy said. She was trying desperately to stand up straight – or, at least, not tip over. She just wanted the ceremony to be over. She wanted to go home. She wanted to collapse on her couch again with a bottle of liquor in one hand and a picture of her son in the other.
She wanted to forget.
Fallen Tributes: Abstract Calls and Angus Spencer
"Abstract was one of the strongest tributes in the arena – there's no doubt of that. She was confident. She was determined. She was prepared. She never hesitated – not once – never wavered from what she knew she would have to do in order to win. She was a model tribute – an example, I am sure, for many who are to come. Abstract is gone, but her legacy will continue. Her example will live on."
Lisa looked up at the boy, her eyes hard. She didn't want that example to continue. What Abstract had done, she had done in the name of revenge – revenge against the Capitol. And it had cost her her life. It was bad enough that twenty-three children lost their lives every year. To have children growing up thinking of that as a good thing, growing up wanting to volunteer – that was the last thing she wanted.
But it was something her daughter now had a hand in starting.
"Angus and I never crossed paths in the arena, and, for that, I am grateful. I didn't realize until I saw the highlights just how deadly he was. He was young – younger than me – but he made his mark early, killing two older, stronger tributes on the first day. He was proud of that – proud of who he was, and what he had been chosen to do. District One should be very proud of its tributes."
Bradley nodded a little. Angus had been proud. He had even meant to volunteer in a few years, if he hadn't been chosen. Maybe if fate had been kinder, if he had been given the opportunity to prepare for a few more years, maybe then he could have won. As it was, he'd killed three tributes – a total that matched Harakuise's own. If only he'd had a few more years, he could have been an even deadlier force in the arena. He could have won. He could have.
Fallen Tribute: Brie Fallyn
"If you've been watching this tour, you know that I've spoken a lot about courage. I've also said a lot about fearlessness. I've praised them both. But it was Brie who taught us – taught me – that they are not one and the same. Brie wasn't fearless. She was afraid of the Games, as many of us are. And she was afraid of death … but not her own. She was afraid that when she died, there would be no one left to save you, Jai. No one to prove your innocence. And so she fought – fought for the chance to return to you, to expose the truth and save your life. It was her love for you, and the courage that her love inspired, that brought her so far through the Games.
"Brie was my district partner. She was an ally of sorts near the end. And, at the very last, she was my final opponent. And she died content, knowing that I would keep my promise, that I would do my best to save your life. She accomplished what she set out to do, and she did it bravely. Because courage – real courage – isn't just a matter of not being frightened. It's being afraid and doing what you have to do, anyway. Entering the Games was something she believed she had to do to save you, and she did it without hesitation, without a second thought. She gave her life to save yours, and, in the end, she was a better tribute than I. You – and all of District Five – should be proud, very proud, of your sister."
Jai choked back a few tears. He knew Harakuise well enough now to know that he meant it. In the end, he had admired Brie. He had killed her, yes, and it had taken Jai a while to get past that, but now he couldn't find it in himself to blame Harakuise for wanting to live. Brie had died happy – or, if not happy, then at least content. And that was about as much as you could ask for in the Hunger Games.
Without thinking, Jai made his way to Harakuise's side of the stage and held out his hand. Harakuise nodded a little, then shook it, and Jai felt in that grasp an almost comforting sense of finality.
The Ninth Hunger Games were finally over.
"All major changes are like death. You can't see to the other side until you are there."
Tributes of the Tenth Hunger Games
Female: Thea Cheviott (18) Cashmere67
Male: Alicante Morgan (17) DeuceExMachina
Female: Sura Petrovich (16) Phil
Male: Matthias Hadrian (18) Chaos In Her Wake
Female: Astra Halley (14) IndigoStarling
Male: Koray Chambers (16) Acereader55
Female: Avalia De Montemercy (16) TheGlitchOnFire
Male: Mathias Arnett (16) ImmyRose
Female: Theia Slate (15) Flyere
Male: Cyne Whitten (18) Set Fire To The Ashes
Female: Marjani Esan (16) Choi Junhong
Male: Roshan Varick (15) bobothebear
Female: Rana Goodrich (18) QuietConspiracy
Male: Kaji Ichihara (18) Aspect of One
Female: Carolina Young (18) Aileen's Feather
Male: Shaw Peters (17) torystory93
Female: Ardrey Keevan (18) Sunlight Comes Creeping In
Male: Cormac Reilly (18) jakey121
Female: Maeren Kinsella (14) The Lunar Lioness
Male: Lyre Fairfax (15) A Nihilistic Queen
Female: Binix Morraen (18) LokiThisIsMadness
Male: Dallas Roy (18) BadJokesAreTheBest
Female: Arianna Cool (15) Starry-eyed dreamer86
Male: Hendrix Cohen (17) DomiHearts1497