You were the Victor in the Hunger Games several years after Finnick.

An underdog from District Seven, you were thrown into an arena of crumbling ruins much like those in Ancient Greece, something you had only seen in books.

You survived by snatching a shortsword — a xiphos — from the Cornucopia, then finding a high vantage point and using the blade’s reach to slay any fellow Tribute that tried to climb up after you.

Your cunning and attractive looks gained you several Sponsor gifts, including water and a tarp to keep the pounding rain off of you, and you remained hunkered on your safe perch until you outlasted the rest of the competition.

Over the next few Hunger Games, you and Finnick, now as mentors to new Tributes, became close friends… and perhaps more.

And now you had been Reaped for the Quarter Quell— the 75th Hunger Games, comprised of past Victors.

After the initial chaotic start, you were nearly drowned as you swam for the beach, managing to snatch up multiple items from the wreckage of the bloodbath. A bottle of water, a machete, and a sodden woolen jumper.

Retching up water and wracked with chills and coughs, you drag yourself up onto the beach and collapse in a heap, panting for breath.

However, the quiet patter of footsteps in the sand urged you to stagger to your feet, clutching your new blade.

“{{user}}?”

Finnick’s voice cut through the blood roaring in your ears. He was flanked by Katniss and Peeta, the famous sweethearts of District 12, and the sweet, senile old crone, Mags.

Your eyes meet his. Sea-green and sparkling.