Hello all! Right, so, this is my first Hunger Games fanfic. I'm not sure exactly how long it's going to be, but I'm pretty happy with what I have so far. However, if anyone seems OoC at all then please please please tell me!

WARNING: THIS WILL CONTAIN MOCKINGJAY SPOILERS! it probably won't be until a little later in the story, but there will definitely be some stuff in here.

Summary - Cinna's life as a rebel started when his father asked him if he was willing to risk everything to overthrow the Capital.


The scene on the television flashed again, another tribute down, another life lost. The Hunger Games were in full swing, the audience in the capital watching in awe while the children of the districts battled to the death. The people of the districts despised the Capital citizens even more during this time, for enjoying the suffering of their innocent children being punished for deeds done over half a century before. But not everyone who was watching in the Capital felt the thrill of the Games.

A young boy sat with his family in their apartment in the Capital as their television displayed the endless horrors of the arena. Children not much older than he, murdering each other in cold blood, degraded to the status imposed on them by the Capital. The boy stared wide eyed at the screen, disbelief and horror written across his face as he watched the Games.

"-inna..." a voice, detached and distant, called his name but he was too absorbed in the events unfolding before him. "Cinna!" the boy jerked to attention, turning to face his father who was looking at him with tired eyes. "Do you understand now?"

Cinna thought for a moment, remembering the somewhat odd discussion that had taken place earlier. It wasn't just the discussion that was odd, the location had been quite strange as well. Traveling through the streets of the capital for several hours, Cinna's father had taken him to a small shop on one of the narrow alleyways. After going inside his father had said a few words to the shopkeeper and then they had proceeded to a back room, and from there down into a hidden cellar. Cinna had started feeling uneasy as they entered the shop, knowing that something very important was about to happen. As they stepped down into the cellar, his father closed the door and turned to him.

"Cinna, you need to listen to me, and to think, really think, about what I'm going to tell you." His father's tone was so serious and stern, Cinna became even more alarmed. "Cinna, you've been watching the Games your whole life. You've seen what the Capital forces on the Districts. Tell me, do you think it's right?"

"No," he answered without hesitation, "no, it's not right."

His father nodded, studying his face closely before he said any more. "You've heard the stories of the rebellion, how the Capital ended the rebellion and uses the Games to punish the Districts for the rebellion. Almost everyone in the Capital views it as a deserved fate. Almost everyone. Cinna, I am part of the new resistance group, who plans to overthrow the Capital one day." His father hesitated, letting his words hang in the air.

"Why are you telling me this?" Cinna wasn't sure why, but he wasn't surprised at his father's announcement.

"Because, I want to know what you think. You could be a valued member of the resistance, with some time and guidance. But you need to understand the risks."

"The risks?" Cinna locked eyes with his father.

"When we return home and watch the Games, I want you to pay very close attention. If the Capital is willing to do such horrible things to innocent children, what do you think they will do to someone who is plotting against them?" Cinna flinched slightly at the ideas that flitted through his mind. Nothing pleasant would come of rebelling against the Capital if they were caught. "You are not to speak of this outside of this room, do you understand? The Capital monitors conversations throughout the city; this is one of the few areas where we can speak freely about our plans."

Back in their apartment, Cinna let the events of the Games, as well as the ideas that had been presented to him earlier, play through his mind.

"Yes, I understand," he turned and looked at his father, a fire burning in his eyes, "I understand, and I want to be a part of it." His father smiled slightly.


So what do you think? I know this isn't much, but is it a good start?