#george tracker

[gelu-the-babosa-multiversal]

I will sell this ship or die trying!

[totallycorrectf1]

Logan: I can’t find Alex. Do you know where he is? George: What do you think I have a tracker on him or something? Logan: No, of course not, I just - George (pulling out his phone): Well I do just give me a second to pull it up.

[scroomp]

2024 crying tracker

Cry 78:

Date: July 2, 2024

Time of day: Night

Type of cry: Happy

Reason: F1

Reason elaborated: “GEORGE WON AND ITS SO SWEET TO SEE HIM CELEBRATE WITH HIS TEAM AND BE SO HAPPY- GEORGE RUSSEL YOU ARE SO DEAR TO ME”

Level: 1 (misty eyed/single tear)

Crying place: couch

[blogger360ncislarules]

Impressive overhead view of the new and returning casts of at CBS's 2024 Fall Schedule Celebration

[mod-a-day]

Steven Baker, George Stamatiadis "Continue" (𝙲𝙾𝙽𝚃𝙸𝙽𝚄𝙴 . 𝙼𝙾𝙳) Halloween Harry (1993) Interactive Binary Illusions

[mostlysignssomeportents]

When Facebook came for your battery, feudal security failed

When George Hayward was working as a Facebook data-scientist, his bosses ordered him to run a “negative test,” updating Facebook Messenger to deliberately drain users’ batteries, in order to determine how power-hungry various parts of the apps were. Hayward refused, and Facebook fired him, and he sued:

https://nypost.com/2023/01/28/facebook-fires-worker-who-refused-to-do-negative-testing-awsuit/

If you’d like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here’s a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/02/05/battery-vampire/#drained

Hayward balked because he knew that among the 1.3 billion people who use Messenger, some would be placed in harm’s way if Facebook deliberately drained their batteries — physically stranded, unable to communicate with loved ones experiencing emergencies, or locked out of their identification, payment method, and all the other functions filled by mobile phones.

As Hayward told Kathianne Boniello at the New York Post, “Any data scientist worth his or her salt will know, ‘Don’t hurt people…’ I refused to do this test. It turns out if you tell your boss, ‘No, that’s illegal,’ it doesn’t go over very well.”

Negative testing is standard practice at Facebook, and Hayward was given a document called “How to run thoughtful negative tests” regarding which he said, “I have never seen a more horrible document in my career.”

We don’t know much else, because Hayward’s employment contract included a non-negotiable binding arbitration waiver, which means that he surrendered his right to seek legal redress from his former employer. Instead, his claim will be heard by an arbitrator — that is, a fake corporate judge who is paid by Facebook to decide if Facebook was wrong. Even if he finds in Hayward’s favor — something that arbitrators do far less frequently than real judges do — the judgment, and all the information that led up to it, will be confidential, meaning we won’t get to find out more:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/06/12/hot-coffee/#mcgeico

One significant element of this story is that the malicious code was inserted into Facebook’s app. Apps, we’re told, are more secure than real software. Under the “curated computing” model, you forfeit your right to decide what programs run on your devices, and the manufacturer keeps you safe. But in practice, apps are just software, only worse:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/06/23/peek-a-boo/#attack-helicopter-parenting

Apps are part what Bruce Schneier calls “feudal security.” In this model, we defend ourselves against the bandits who roam the internet by moving into a warlord’s fortress. So long as we do what the warlord tells us to do, his hired mercenaries will keep us safe from the bandits:

https://locusmag.com/2021/01/cory-doctorow-neofeudalism-and-the-digital-manor/

But in practice, the mercenaries aren’t all that good at their jobs. They let all kinds of badware into the fortress, like the “pig butchering” apps that snuck into the two major mobile app stores:

https://arstechnica.com/information-technology/2023/02/pig-butchering-scam-apps-sneak-into-apples-app-store-and-google-play/

It’s not merely that the app stores’ masters make mistakes — it’s that when they screw up, we have no recourse. You can’t switch to an app store that pays closer attention, or that lets you install low-level software that monitors and overrides the apps you download.

Indeed, Apple’s Developer Agreement bans apps that violate other services’ terms of service, and they’ve blocked apps like OG App that block Facebook’s surveillance and other enshittification measures, siding with Facebook against Apple device owners who assert the right to control how they interact with the company:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/12/10/e2e/#the-censors-pen

When a company insists that you must be rendered helpless as a condition of protecting you, it sets itself up for ghastly failures. Apple’s decision to prevent every one of its Chinese users from overriding its decisions led inevitably and foreseeably to the Chinese government ordering Apple to spy on those users:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/11/11/foreseeable-consequences/#airdropped

Apple isn’t shy about thwarting Facebook’s business plans, but Apple uses that power selectively — they blocked Facebook from spying on Iphone users (yay!) and Apple covertly spied on its customers in exactly the same way as Facebook, for exactly the same purpose, and lied about it:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/11/14/luxury-surveillance/#liar-liar

The ultimately, irresolvable problem of Feudal Security is that the warlord’s mercenaries will protect you against anyone — except the warlord who pays them. When Apple or Google or Facebook decides to attack its users, the company’s security experts will bend their efforts to preventing those users from defending themselves, turning the fortress into a prison:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/10/20/benevolent-dictators/#felony-contempt-of-business-model

Feudal security leaves us at the mercy of giant corporations — fallible and just as vulnerable to temptation as any of us. Both binding arbitration and feudal security assume that the benevolent dictator will always be benevolent, and never make a mistake. Time and again, these assumptions are proven to be nonsense.

Image: Anthony Quintano (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Mark_Zuckerberg_F8_2018_Keynote_%2841118890174%29.jpg

CC BY 2.0: https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0/deed.en

[Image ID: A painting depicting the Roman sacking of Jerusalem. The Roman leader's head has been replaced with Mark Zuckerberg's head. The wall has Apple's 'Think Different' wordmark and an Ios 'low battery' icon.]

Next week (Feb 8-17), I'll be in Australia, touring my book *Chokepoint Capitalism* with my co-author, Rebecca Giblin. We'll be in Brisbane on Feb 8, and then we're doing a remote event for NZ on Feb 9. Next is Melbourne, Sydney and Canberra. I hope to see you!

https://chokepointcapitalism.com/

[laura1633]

Imagine Max and Charles wearing a fitness tracker that they aren't allowed to take off, evening during the night. So it doesn't take long for their personal trainers to figure out that their spikes in heart rate overlap with the times that Max and Charles mysteriously disappeared.

This would be so funny anon 🤣

Perhaps their trainers make them wear them for two weeks and Max and Charles don't really question it. They don't even really think about it too much (because they are idiots and they can't keep their hands off of each other anyway so it's not like a fitness tracker is going to stop them).

When they hand the trackers into their respective trainers they ask what the results are but are told it was for data collecting for a report that the Fia are putting together on driver fitness. Both trainers explained this but neither Max nor Charles paid any attention.

The Fia task George with presenting the findings to the drivers. Cue Max and Charles blushing bright red and shifting uncomfortably in their chair as the graphics show both of their heart rates spike at the same time on multiple occasions .. mostly at night. And they really went through the roof and stayed there almost the whole night after Charles' victory in Monaco.

[incorrectly-quoted-queers]

Fantasy High Romances but as Songs

Kristen and Tracker: Take Me to Church by Hozier Gorgug and Zelda: Teenage Dirtbag by Wheatus Fabian and Aelwyn: Just The Girl by Click Five Riz and Baron: Possum Kingdom by Toadies Ragh and Fathethriel: I'm a Loner, Dottie, A Rebel by The Get Up Kids Fig and Ayda: Yellow by Coldplay Fabian and Ecaf: You're Beautiful by James Blunt Wanda Childa and Rueben: All I Wanted by Paramore Kristen and Gertie: Thank God for Girls by Weezer Fabian and Mazie: Dancin' in The Dark by Bruce Springsteen Dishonorable Mention Adaine and Oisin but its really just us fans who got played: Careless Whisper by George Michael

[bastardbvby]

shadoune said he wanted to do a video similar to dream's eye tracker concept but when he asked a developer to code it they couldn't and sapnap was like yeah dream and george are really good ohhhhhh :((((

[dizzyduck44]

Let’s be clear about something.

There are those of us who were watching Suzuka 2014 and still remember the utter confusion of the commentators of why a red flag had been thrown when it had been yellow for a while and why they couldn’t see Bianchi on the data tracker (his crash wasn’t televised so for a while only a tiny section of the track knew what had happened).

Then are those who treat it like a myth and a fairytale that can be used as an argument or an insult.

If you don’t understand why that is disrespectful, go back and listen to the pure terror in George’s voice as he is sideways in the middle of the track, with his whole body facing oncoming cars. If they were to hit him it would be in the legs and spine and he wouldn’t even be able to see them coming.

Go read about how Roman Grosjean objected about the addition of the halo, until it ultimately saved his life.

We don’t use the very real dangers of F1 to win petty arguments. To justify for better safety measures, yes. Any arguments that use it as “it’s not fair because” purely disrespectful.

Can’t believe that needs to be explained.

[gelu-the-babosa-multiversal]

hehehehehe soooooo... what do you guys like more???

[bccksmarts]

   The witch rolled her eyes at the little name of endearment—so she assumed—as she waltzed into the Weasley's shop, ❝Hi, George.❞ She greeted, her lips curled in the corners despite the roll of her eyes a moment ago.

   She crossed her arms over before leaning over the counter top, her arms propping her up as support, ❝Oh, do I need a reason to come and see how you're doing now? Is being one of your very good friends not enough any more?❞

@bccksmarts liked this post for a starter from // george weasley

"Ah! If it isn't my favorite bookworm. What brings you to the shop today?"

[gay-dorito-dust]

Could I request a George karim x reader with the prompt  “i couldn’t find you and i just thought something happened, alright...” or “i wasn’t that worried, i was just wondering where you were..” I feel like George suits the reluctant friend to lovers kinda vibes

I just had to write this as soon as I could before the idea left my head for good.

Where the hell were you?

Did you normally take this damn long getting back home or was your perception of time that out of wack?

You said you’d be back before noon but noon was quick to arrive and you were still yet to even walk through that door.

George thought to himself as he remained sat on the staircase, eyeing the front door like a guard dog awaiting potential intruders; which he desperately hopes wouldn’t be the case and instead you returning from wherever it was that you went.

George knew how he sounded but he assured himself that he wasn’t some concerning, overprotective boyfriend, after all you were just a friend he came to fret over albeit a little too much in terms of you two being just friends. It wasn’t his fault that you had a track record of inconsistencies when it came to coming back at the time you set yourself.

It happens all too often for his liking that he was already tempting the idea hunting for you across London before dragging you back home by the hood of your coat. Today wasn’t any different as once again you promised to be back by a certain time and once again you failed in doing so by a fifteen minute gap.

George began to feel that all too familiar anxious feeling within the pit of his stomach that he noted only seemed to happen whenever you -and only you- were late returning home from your ventures.

“Next time this happens, I’m putting a damn tracker on them or follow them from a distance so it doesn’t look like I’m stalki-“

Before George could finish his sentence, the front door opened and you stepped into the hallway with a smile before ridding yourself of your coat and hanging it on the nearest coat hanger. “Heya Georgie, how long have you been there?” You causally asked as though you weren’t the soul reason George believed he was going to gain grey hairs from the stress you’ve been giving him these past few days.

The audacity you had never failed to draw an indignant scoff from his lips as he pushed himself off of the staircase he was gradually becoming numb from sitting too long. “Long enough, where the hell have you been? Have you any idea how-“ “George,” you stopped him, a smile growing across your face as the pieces began to click in your head, “it sounds to me like you were worried about little ol’ me.”

Your lighthearted accusation had George on the ropes and if there was one thing you knew about George Karim and that was he was too stubborn to go down without having the last say in any conversation. “I wasn’t that worried, I was just…wondering you were that’s all.” He defended himself, feeling a tad flustered when a laugh escaped your lips as you neared him; resting your hands on his shoulders, causing them to tense briefly, as you leaned in close to press an innocent kiss to his cheek before pulling away.

You laughed lightly once you saw his scrunched up face. “How sweet of you, my knight in oversized nightshirts.” You teased as you side stepped him in order to get up the stairs, but were stopped when George reached a hand to grasp onto your hand which caused you to look at him quickly, “Just,” he began, “just tell me when your going to be late next time alright, instead of leaving me to worry my arse off.”

You smiled at him softly, “I’ll try.”

“You promise?” George asks.

“I promise.” You echoed, leaning in close to him again to press a feather light kiss to his nose before disappearing up the stairs and out of sight; which George was grateful for since it meant you wouldn’t tease him for the dopey smile across his face.

[lumosinlove]

Christmas Eve Will Find Me

Four: Sirius

Safehouse Somewhere in Athens

Athens, Greece

No one could know, but Sirius was fairly certain he was going insane. He dreamed of Remus. He glimpsed him in dark, dreamscape spaces and then in London. All of their familiar spots. But he was always turning a corner, or walking in front of Sirius who couldn’t seem to reach forward. His name always stuck in Sirius’ throat.

The dark safe house ceiling was no comfort when Sirius jolted himself away for the hundredth time.

“Do you ever wonder…” Remus had begun that sentence more than a year ago, and Sirius still believed that he wouldn’t have been able to guess what he was about to say.

They had been in London, at George’s, on their second beers and making their way through their chip wrappings. Some happy Irish song was bouncing around the shop, but Remus’ expression had been solemn. He’d chewed slowly, staring out the steamed up window. The fog made his brown eyes look like milk poured into coffee.

“What?” Sirius had prompted, knocking the necks of their bottles together.

He remembered being thrilled to have Remus all to himself this late into the night. He didn’t live near Sirius, but near his parents and his little brother, Julian. Sirius didn’t like thinking of them. He’d tried to look in a few times, but seeing ten-year-old Julian’s face had been nearly as horrible as watching Remus get dragged away. It’s my fault, he’d wanted to say. He’d wanted to beg for Julian’s forgiveness and also tell him that he didn’t deserve it, all at the same time.

“George,” Remus had called. “Can you turn this one up?”

The song was already loud, but George shrugged and dialed it up three more notches. Sirius’ neck prickled. He was worried about listening bugs.

Remus had looked around George’s fish shop before leaning a little closer. Freckles, Sirius always thought. Freckles like stars. “Do you ever wonder about them?”

Them. It was the word for Salazar.

“Wonder,” Sirius had repeated. “What do you mean?”

Remus pressed his lips together.

“Re.” Sirius shook his head. “Talk to me—”

Remus��� phone had started to ring. Sirius had caught a quick glimpse of the name before Remus had excused himself to take it outside.

Pascal.

The memory faded when James, laying beside him, reached over at patted his shoulder comfortingly.

Sirius sighed. “How did you know I was awake?”

“You breathe differently.”

“You’re just used to watching Harry sleep.”

“Maybe,” James said. “Maybe you need a little bit of babying, too, to make up for lost time.”

Sirius snorted. James knew about his parents. Cold, passionate people with their ideas in all the wrong places.

“Leo’s on watch?” Sirius asked.

“Yep. Think we can teach Finn a few tricks so we can all get more sleep?”

“Not a chance.”

James laughed softly. His phone briefly lit up the darkness as he checked the time and then groaned. “You’re right, but damn. We should be asleep while we can. You change over at dawn.”

“Honestly, I think I’ll be glad for the distraction.”

“What, you’re own head getting to you? You? Wow, I never would have guessed that.”

Sirius reached out blindly and whacked him in the chest. James hit him back, but they settled again. He tried to match his breathing to James to see if he’d noticed and received another pat.

“It’s something with their memory.” Sirius had to force the words out.

“Yeah.” James swallowed audibly in the dark. “I think so.”

“I don’t…” Sirius shook his head. “They’re killed—we saw them die, and then they show up and—”

Did Remus not know him? Sirius felt sick thinking of it. He tried to put himself in Finn’s shoes, who he’d left curled on his side with all of his clothes on, staring at the brick wall through his bedroom window. If they found Remus—or, like Logan, let Remus find them, would Remus not recognize him? Did he even know his own name?

“We saw them shot,” James said. “We never…We assumed they were dead. Their trackers went offline, we thought their bodies got thrown over—”

“What if whoever took them disabled the trackers?”

“We need to know for sure who we were dealing with six months ago at Sounion,” James said. “Black market and weapon dealing isn’t enough. We need names.”

Sirius could see the three faces they’d managed to track. The woman, and the two men—brothers, most likely.

“Why did Salazar call off the mission after we lost Lo and Re?” James hit the mattress with a harsh palm. “That’s what I can’t fucking wrap my head around. Why not get those fuckers?”

Do you ever wonder about them?

Sirius didn’t know how to say it to James. Had Remus meant Salazar? He’d refused to speak about it after the fact. But now Salazar wanted Remus shot on sight. He thought of whose safe house they were in, and whether it was really safe at all.

“I never asked before,” James continued. “Because I didn’t think it was any of my business…” Sirius knew what was coming when James turned towards him in the dark. “But did—”

“No,” Sirius said to the dark ceiling.

“You didn’t even hear my question” James asked.

Sirius reached out and grabbed James’ wrist, tapping twice on its inside. Their own code. Someone might be listening. He made something up and knew James would go along. “He wins enough money off me, he kills at poker.”

“That he does,” James replied without a beat, but he was tensed beside him. A moment later, he was pushing himself up. Dawn was beginning to make a faint orange line across the bedroom war, coming in through the kitchen.

“C’mon,” James said. “They’ll be setting up the markets. Leo’s on watch. Let’s bring him coffee and wake up our little passenger and go over that phone call radius.”

Sirius looked up at him in the dim light. “Logan always did like leaving at dawn.”

He was reluctant to rouse Finn. The room was freezing. They would have to do something about that. Finn’s suitcase was open on the floor and clothes half spilled out. There was no room for any sort of dresser—or maybe just no care for it. No one stayed long enough, perhaps.

“I’ll do it.”

Sirius turned to find Leo standing behind him. He looked tired, and cold. He was holding a cup of the coffee that James had made—way too strong.

Leo rolled his eyes a little at Sirius’ expression, then shouldered past him. “He’s stronger than he looks.”

“Really?” Sirius said. “I’d be a mess.”

He already was a mess. It had the intended effect, making Leo pause to look at him before settling on the edge of Finn’s bed.

“Finn,” Leo said gently. “Are you awake?”

“Are you awake?”

Sirius drew in a slow breath before opening his eyes. If anyone had told him, upon entering the academy, that his roommate would be a fucking talkative insomniac, he wasn’t sure what he would have done.

“I am now.”

Remus Lupin’s silhouette pushed up from his cot across the small room. “Are you hungry?”

Sirius could still see him there, half-silhouette and half moonlight. He hadn’t known that he would be entranced, for a long time, by how handsome he thought Remus Lupin was. He’d thought that from the very beginning.

“Sure. I’m hungry.”

Sirius went back into the kitchen. He didn’t want to watch this part. He didn’t want to watch Finn wake up and remember.

James looked at him. He was in his own dark, sleek winter jacket, had a black beanie pulled low, and his contacts in. He cupped his mug close to his chin and watched Sirius add milk to his own—how Remus took it. Sirius looked back at him once he was holding his own mug, too.

James’ single arched brow said all he needed to. Of course Salazar is listening. He darted his eyes around the room. This is their safe house.

Sirius nodded, but he didn’t know how to communicate, Remus was worried about something and I didn’t realize it soon enough in just one glance. He didn’t even know how to say it to himself. Salazar had been a part of their lives for the last decade. They’d got through training together, him, Remus, and James. And then had come Logan and Finn, two years later, and then, finally, Leo. Malfoy and the other higher-ups were old-fashioned and crude, but the work they did was important. Necessary. They were protectors.

James just sighed and took a sip of his coffee. “I miss her grilled cheese.” Lily. He wouldn’t give anyone else who might be listening a name. Just like how, for Logan, Finn was always Red, or Rouge.

What would Sirius have called Remus, if he were a civilian? If he weren’t always at his side. If they weren’t always in danger together. Would that have been better? Remus waiting at home for him? Sirius, waiting at home for Remus? He didn’t think so. He preferred Remus in his sightline. He preferred the option of diving in front of a bullet for him. Only distance prevented him from protecting Remus.

He should never have let Remus go down those cliffs without him.

James cleared his throat to get his attention. He had written something down on a napkin. In his scratchy handwriting,

TELL ME.

Sirius didn’t know what he was going to say, but he looked over his shoulder where he could hear Finn and Leo’s soft voices. He wrote quickly:

R X TRUST S?

James read the words and his reaction fell over his face. He flicked his eyes up to Sirius. Didn’t trust Salazar? Honestly?

Sirius shook his head.

Why?

Sirius shrugged and shook his head again. He’d never gotten Remus to say.

Leo was about to come down the hallway, Finn on his heels. “Are we ready?” Leo called.

James was still frowning, hazel eyes worried, as he stuffed the napkin in his remaining coffee to bleed the ink away.

“We’re ready,” James said, though Sirius didn’t feel it.

[mystristages]

god I remember when we were trying to figure out what time-frame the first 10 issues of sm2099 take place in and it's like:

day 1: miguel is drugged with rapture (6-7pm ish), goes home to tell dana, and returns to alchemax (probably around midnight since he was able to enter undetected). the transformation happens, the building explodes, and he escapes on the skykite and passes out. I know this is all in one day (or at least less than 24 hours) because rapture takes 24 hours to bind to your system.

day 2: he wakes up and it's morning because he needs to darken the windows (idk. somewhere between 8-10am?). gabriel comes over, miguel notices venture, and kicks him out. he hotglues the skykite foil to his back and jumps out a window. the venture fight happens. miguel then spends "the next couple of days criss-crossing the city" to throw off trackers.

that last speech bubble is so down in it by nine inch nails of him. lol

day 4: when he gets home he tells all of this to lyla, finishing the flashback. tyler stone shows up to his apartment at like 2am to hit him with a white man jumpscare.

in the morning, gabriel tells him about kasey. she takes him as a hostage, escapes, he sees the specialist go after her, he fights the specialist, and then falls into downtown. it's probably the afternoon around this time.

this is where it gets a little difficult...he crash lands in a pile of garbage and he's all fucked up and gets to a doctor and then the vulture picks him up and knocks him out and he spends an indeterminate amount of time in a dingy little cell. the funniest possible outcome is that the vulture hitting him on the head finally got him to get a full night's sleep for the first time in like 7 years so I'm counting that as a new day

day 5: the vulture fight happens. miguel gets uptown again and sees that he has stans (the spiderites) and gets freaked out and goes home. he takes a bath and dana jumpscares him (white woman edition) and then gabriel shows up and they have to go to wellvale. after that he destroys the security camera, and later visits george.

and that's it. he can't catch a break for nearly a week oh my god someone help him

[sea-owl]

In your hunger games au what was the arena like for each other spouses?

Like what type of area they fought in? That's an interesting question, hold on let me think.

Simon: Simon's arena was miles of open fields. There was nowhere to hide, and the only option was to kill or be killed. Tributes had to be on gaurd every second in case another tribute or mutt spotted them. This led to many forgoing sleep, including Simon, lomg enough that the gamemaker debated leaking a gas into the arena so the tributes wouldn't make the games boring by passing out from exhaustion.

Kate: Kate's arena was rows and rows of different crops, trees, and other items one would need to help survive. It honestly seemed too good to be true, and it was. What the gamemakers didn't tell the tributes was that each time they picked an item, it was a gamble. Was what they grabbed the real thing or something the gamemakers mutated to kill them. The thing is, Kate's too stubborn to go down so easily, and she took great satisfaction of killing the mutation for her prize.

Sophie: Sophie's arena basically looked like the ruins of a city with nature beginning to overtaie it. This arena really urgered Capitol citizens even more to send her gifts. It's hitting a little too close to home that this tribute who looks so much like their Capitol children is wandering around, scared and fighting for her life. Sophie, who was always more comfortable among nature, stayed closer to that part of the ruined city, which she unknowingly played on the Capitol citizens even more.

Penelope: Up above were a set of islands, each one with a different terrain that a tributemight gravitate towards based on their home. But underneath was an underwater cave system with a few openings a tribute could set up camp. Penelope frequently used to hide herself in between leaving her messages to mess with the other tributes. Being from District 4, she and her district partner had the best chances of navigating that cave system. If it wasn't for that tracker and underwater cameras, the gamemakers probably would've called her death when she first discovered it.

Phillip: Phillip's arena is very much like Haymitch's. Pretty, but all that it really is is pretty poison. Phillip knew the prettier the plant, the more likely it's poisonous and he was proven right when he found plants he knew were poisonous because they grew back in District 7. Unsure of what the other plants did, he picked the poison he knew and used it to coat his weapon. He hunkered down and waited after that. He won't seek the other tributes out but he's also not dying in this arena like George did.

Michael: Michael's arena was rocky terrain with many cliffs and a never-ending fog. Many of the tributes fell or were pushed to their deaths over the cliffs. Michael himself even used the cliffs when he realized one was unstable and managed to switch positions in battle with another tribute who fell after the cliff broke out from under them.

Gareth: Gareth's arena was a little different as it was in an abandoned mansion. The gamemakers really wanted to stick it to Victor Danbury that her beloved grandson would die surrounded by all these broken luxury comforts. District 1's export was broken in this arena just as they planned to break District 1's tribute and District 1's victor. Many rooms in the mansion had a different way to kill you. What the gamemakers failed to realize though is that Gareth recognized many of these items and was able use the broken pieces against other tributes.

Lucy: Poor Lucy got thrown into a swamp, and everything was constantly wet. A few tributes managed to die from trench foot. Lucy tried to keep herself as dry as she could by climbing the trees. This also helped in her plan to secretly take other tributes because constantly looking down for any dry spots made it easier for her to shoot from the trees.