THE REAPING! ((Open to all in District THREE!))

There was no denying the fact that Xander felt significantly less excited today than he had before the two previous reapings. The perky Capitolite tried to pass the feeling off as simply being tired from all the travel and excitement, but he knew that really, District 3 was just much less exciting than 1 and 2. The citizens of 1 and 2 (and, of course, 4) were always oh so happy to see him and hear him call out their names, and he could always count on a couple of volunteers, people to watch in the Games. They were the cream of the crop. Not to mention their districts were just nicer in general, more well tended than 3 was. And this was only District 3 – you can bet Xander was not looking forward to the later Districts, particularly 12. All that coal dust was not good for his hair.

To add to his tragic problems, it was also a bit of a disappointment that Mr. Snow wouldn’t be joining him today – he’d been such a hit in the previous districts! – but Xander certainly didn’t blame the boy. It was taxing all this hard work they were doing, and he’d want to be well rested for District 4, Xander was positive!

Nevertheless, the young man knew it was his job to look happy and excited to be here no matter how he really felt, so after draining two large cups of coffee and making some adjustments to his wig, Xander was able to plant a large smile on his face as he took the stage in the center of District 3. Xander Petry never let his fans down! In fact, as he looked out at the crowd of young people, wondering who his magic fingers would choose, the Capitolite didn’t even need to fake the excitement anymore. Really, his job was just so wonderful! He was responsible for getting the districts excited about the Games! He was the one who got to give these lucky kids a chance at eternal glory! He got to introduce the tributes to the viewers at the Capitol for the very first time! All of Panem knew the name Xander Petry!

Now beaming, Xander waved enthusiastically at the crowd. “Helloooooo, District Three, and Happy Hunger Games!” He shouted over the crowd – it was electrifying, the way they all immediately fell quiet as soon as he spoke. In District One and Two, he could count on the crowd to energetically respond to whatever he said, but Xander knew better than to try that kind of tactic here. So instead of trying to pump up the crowd, he just kept on going. “You all know what time of year it is! REAPING DAY!” Pause for cheers that may or may not come. Xander didn’t particularly care – as long as they were watching him, the man was perfectly content. “I’m sure you’ve all been looking forward to this just as much as I have-” as if it were possible for any of these people to mirror Xander’s enthusiasm. His face felt like it might be stuck this way, he was smiling so hard. “-So let’s get on with it, shall we? As they say, ladies first!”

Convinced he was doing them all a great service, he took his place in front of the large glass bowl filled with girl’s names, placing a hand over it then pausing for dramatic effect and looking back out towards the crowd. “And I almost forgot – May the odds be ever in your favor~!” Ahh, that was lovely. Right, it was time! Xander plunged a hand into the bowl, making a show of fishing around for just the right name. This was not a matter to be taken lightly, after all!

((Xander Petry is the equivalent of Effie Trinket. April is not doing the reaping, obviously xD

Post Away! If you are planning anything special, such as volunteering, please PM me!

Tributes, remember tallying points for the Games starts now!))

A nervous feeling balled up inside of Thomas.
It was obvious Courtney had the same feeling. It was the second year her name would be in the reaping. Together, hand-in-hand Courtney and Thomas walked to the square. God knew how many times Thomas' name was in the reaping.

As Thomas stood waiting for the reaping to start, he couldn't help but let his eyes wonder around. He saw a group of peacekeepers, one of which looked younger than him. That made him think... If you were a peacekeeper, would you have to have your name in the reaping? He shook away the thought. He couldn't. He couldn't just leave and make Courtney have to take all the tesserae.
All Thomas could do was try not to think of what could happen, and hope he or Courney weren't called.

Maybe the reaping wasn't such a bad thing after all.

Fayer needed to get away from his father. He was being crazier and more careless than ever. Thankfully, Fayer was actually pretty responsible. Had he not been, he'd probably be dead right now. What kind of a person would just ignore their kid like that, though? Fayer was a bit ashamed to say that his father wasn't always there when he was needed. Sometimes, but not always. "Always" should be the promise, and the promise should be kept.

Even though it wasn't, Fayer didn't make such a big deal about it. He kept quiet, like he always did. He just wished he was able to communicate with his father and break this unseen barrier. What was it, anyway? What was stopping them from having a normal father-son relationship? It was the question that pounded at Fayer's soul each and every day.

It wasn't constant, though. Not unexpectedly, Fayer's father didn't attend the reaping. He had been at work very, very late and didn't return home until extremely early morning hours. It was hardly apparent, but Fayer's father really did love him; he just didn't know how to show it. Even though Fayer's father didn't attend the reaping, he showed his love by shouting a simple phrase down the stairs: "Good luck."

Two words. Two words had such a powerful impact on Fayer's life and it nearly brought tears to his eyes. It had been so long since his father had said anything encouraging, and finally, there it was. Those two, simple words gave Fayer the strength he needed to overcome his fear of The Hunger Games.

Once down at the reaping, Fayer took a deep breath as those two words echoed inside his head.

"Good luck."

Riley flounced to the square, taking the moment to check herself in. She grabbed for Jacob's hand, leading him with her, even though he wasn't yet twelve. She searched for her father, and reassured him with a smile, back with Alli and Taylor. She found herself standing next to a boy, and smiled at him. "I'm Riley," she nodded. Honestly, what was there to be afraid of? If she was reaped, she knew she wouldn't, couldn't kill. She found the reaped as much at fault as the Capitol; they succumbed. Oh, she knew it wasn't fair for her to think like that, but they could band together. But they could refuse to enter the stage. They could all refuse to kill. But, but, but...

She hoped it would be quick, if she was reaped. If she died. That's all she could ever hope for, really. But she wouldn't be reaped. Carin didn't take care of the family. Caleb was gone. She couldn't be reaped.

Everyone, it seemed, depended on poor little Riley. Riley never noticed; the weight of the world could seem like air compared to the everlooming darkness on Panem.

Awwww boo. Foolish though it may have been, Xander had really been hoping this year might be the year he’d get a more enthusiastic reaction from the members of District Three. But alas, it was not meant to be. No, the children of District Three just appeared scared and, well…utterly boring, if you asked Xander. He felt so unappreciated, sometimes, when he was traveling through the district. Did these people not understand all the time and effort he put in to doing his hair and actually getting up before noon every day, just so he could give them a good reaping! And did they care? Not one bit! Never mind that he was getting paid tons of money for his job, and was a huge celebrity back home in the capitol. Right now he was in District Three, and he was not getting the recognition he deserved.

His life was so difficult.

But did Xander allow any of these un-peppy thoughts to show in his face? Of course not! He was Xander Petry, Hunger Games Reaping Announcer Extraordinaire! And even if these District Three brats didn’t appreciate him, he had tons of adoring fans back in the Capitol, and he wouldn’t let them down! They couldn’t have a boring reaping – not on Xander’s watch! As was his custom, the man simply decided he would have to be even more peppy to make up for this district’s decided lack of enthusiasm.

Kicking the already huge smile on his face up a notch, Xander finally wrapped his fingers around a slip of paper and slowly removed it from the glass bowl. Oh, this was great. Really, it made this whole job worth while. Because in this moment, everyone in Panem's gaze was fixed on him. And he had one lucky girl’s life in his hands. The name he drew would affect the entire Hunger Games – every tribute did. And Xander got to pick them.

The tension was so thick you could cut it with a knife as he slowly, slowly unfolded the paper, taking a moment to read the name. Then, a welcoming grin fixing itself upon his face, Xander looked out to the crowd and eagerly called out, “Olivia Garson!” He paused, allowing the name to sink in and the crowd to react, before continuing, “Where is the lucky girl?” His eyes scanned the crowd and then – oh! There! A small wave of movement as the crowd parted to let a girl, who looked to be about sixteen or so, walk up to the stage. "Ah yes, come on up dear, come on, don't be shy!"

Xander waited for her, beaming. But oh, dear; this looked like a nervous one. That was to be expected from this district, really, but it was still a bit of a let-down after Districts 1 and 2. Nevertheless, it was Xander’s job to make her feel welcomed by the Capitol. She was to be their entertainment for the next month or so, so needless to say they were all thrilled to have her coming to join them per se.

“Welcome, welcome Olivia! We’re thrilled to have you, I’m sure you know! Oh, arent’ you just lovely, isn’t she lovely?” That last part was addressed to the crowd, but Xander didn’t particularly care whether they agreed or not. “Well now, shall we pick the boy?” Without waiting for a response, Xander gestured for Olivia to take a step back and then made his way to the boy’s bowl, ready to begin the process all over again.