Me: HI GUYS! So... this is the first chapter of Velocity, my super mega epic mash-up of Hunger Games and Maximum Ride! But the list of tribs isn't filled yet. I NEED TWO MORE!
Iggy: R&R!
"Maximum...Ride." Effie Trinket rolls out. Her plain, boring dress does not match her high-pitched voice. She smiles at the cameras stationed all over the square, perched on top of buildings, hiding to get the best shot like snipers.
She didn't need to pause at my last time because there are no Maximums other than me in the entire area of District 6.
I know this was going to happen from the moment I set foot in the square. I am prepared to face imminent death.
I take a deep breath and steadily lurch myself forward towards the stage. I grit my teeth.
"Guess the tesserae really paid off." I mutter under my breath as I trudge along.
"Congratulations, Maximum Ride. You are now officially in the Hunger Games." Effie grins at me like the Cheshire cat from Alice's Adventures in Wonderland.
I stand in the center of the stage, for the whole world to see me. I want to hide in the shadows, cower, and cry for myself, my mother, my sister, my little brother, and my baby sister. Effie straightens her cake yellow wig and wiggles her fingers before reaching into the glass fishbowl-like container filled with slips of paper that have the names of the boys from District 6 written on them.
My hands fly to my side-braid draped simply over my shoulder, trailing gently past the top half of my torso. I clutch it in fear of the next name. What if it is my little brother, Gazzy? Oh, God, it's only his first year! He can't be picked already.
Effie swirls her fingers in the bowl. She looks at me, then looks at the cameras again.
She grabs the nearest slip of paper and pulls it out. She unfolds it slowly. She opens her mouth to speak.
"This year's male tribute is... Ignatius Griffiths."
Relief washes me over like a hot bath. I watch in shock as Ignatius stumbles through the crowd, half-drunk. The crowds, of course, give him wide berth.
He ascends onto the stage noisily, but gracefully. He snatches the scrap of paper from Effie's hand. She lets out a surprised sound. He mutters incoherent strings of obscenities while reading his name. After he rereads his name about thirty more times, he flings the tiny vellum at me and I scramble to catch it. He doesn't acknowledge me, but he stands beside me.
I take a look at him; his blond hair shaggy and unkempt, his cold soulless chocolate eyes. He catches me staring at him and glares at me. I quickly turn away, embarrassed.
"We're sitting ducks." He mutters to no one in particular.
Neither of us talks for the rest of the time we have on stage. The Mayor goes on rambling about the history of the Games and the Capitol.
Once his speech is over, a herd of Peacekeepers usher us into the Justice building and stuff us into a tiny room. Ignatius is lead by some of the Peacekeepers into an adjacent room. Once everyone leaves, I can finally rest in peace. I seat myself in a plushy chair and run my hands up and down the armrests, nervously. A small tap at the door forces me to get up and unlock it. As I return to my seat, I see my family. It consists of my mother (A/N: Dr. M!), my little sister, Ella who just turned 15, my little brother Gazzy, who is 12, and the baby, Teddy.
Teddy is clinging to my mother, her tiny hands gripping her like a vise. Teddy reaches her arms out, wanting to be with me. Mother peels her off and hands her to me. Ella creeps up and hugs me, her tears dotting the shoulder of my dress.
"You'll take care of everyone?" I ask, tears threatening to spill over. It is a lot of responsibility to put on a fifteen-year-old's shoulders, but I know she can handle it.
Ella nods her head, her black hair quivering with her. Gazzy tries hard not to cry, but fails and buries himself into my mother.
So all of us, my mother, my siblings, and I, my family, sit in silence, crying and weeping for my safety, my survival.
IGGY
The first thing I notice when I enter into the train is that it's cramped. Too cramped. The girl agrees, too.
"It's stuffy." She ponders. I look at her, and see that her eyes are red and puffy. There are also dried salt stains on her cheeks, making little thin trails.
"Oh, you'll get used to it." Effie Trinket rushes past us. She shoves the girl into her chamber car and shows me where to find mine.
When I get to my room, there is a downy bed, big enough to fit three people, a chest of drawers, and a large bathroom. The first thing I do is collapse onto the bed, back first. I haven't gotten into my pajamas or even crawled into the sheets when I finally fall asleep.
When I wake up, it's past late afternoon; the sun is finally sinking in, turning the sky into the color of the ocean during a storm. Effie is hammering at the door and I struggle to get up. When I do, I open the first drawer and grab a pile of clothes from the top and throw them on. Apparently, I ended up grabbing a gray t-shirt and black pajama pants. I tug on some fuzzy slippers and shuffle to the dining car.
"Rise and shine, Rip Van Winkle!" Effie trills when I walk in and pull up a chair to sit down at the large table coated with trays of food.
I grunt in response and start picking at my plate of food, already piled high with bread, noodles, and pieces of pie. I shovel some noodles into my mouth, but then stop eating. I look up and I see the girl staring at me, spoon in hand, halfway to her mouth.
I set my fork down and scratch out, "What's your name, girl?"
She stares back at me, puts her spoon down, folds her cloth napkin on her lap, all prim and proper, and says, "Maximum."
"That's a mouthful." I scoff. I make a grab for my glass of water, but Effie snatches it away before I can drink.
"So, Max," I go ahead but the girl leans forward in her seat to make me stop.
"I prefer you don't call me that, Ignatius." She speaks softly and demurely.
I start to react violently at her, "Don't call me that, girl!" but I am cut off when someone smashes into the dining car, flinging the door open.
"Hey, Eff. It looks like we got us some fresh meat!"
I turn my head towards that voice and myself staring at a girl, who is about 19 or 20, hands on her hips, and smirking at my general direction. She is wearing blood red skinny jeans, a simple white v-neck t-shirt, her dark chocolate hair falling like a waterfall past her back. Her warm blue eyes scan the room and she Cheshire-Cat smiles at Max.
"Well, well, well. Aren't you two just little darlings?" She asks. Then she laughs. Her hand shoots out and grabs a fistful of my hair. She pulls me out of my seat, just by giving a little pull of her wrist. She scans me and then she sets me down.
"I like you. I like how you were violent and harsh and mean to Maximum." She speculates. She assesses Max and tells her to stand. Max does.
"Hmm…your angle should be demure and shy, quiet but no coyness. No one likes that shit." The girl agrees.
"Who're you?" I yell out. "You just can't barge in here and start sizing us up!" I continue to grill her but she slaps me in the face.
"Shut up. Name's Alison DiPescara. I'm your mentor." She scowls at me, but it's hard to tell if she really is mad at me because she is smiling from ear to ear.
"I don't need a mentor! I don't know about Max here, but she needs to be asked to talk!" I lash out on her.
"You wanna know something? You're gonna get slaughtered there. Like a firing squad." She makes a slitting throat motion with her hand that's not gripping Max's dress. Max squirms in her grip and Alison holds her tighter. Alison finally lets go of Max and then lifts up her white shirt to reveal a clean hole in the middle of her strong, four-pack of an abdomen (A/N: Think hollow hole!).
"How the hell is that even possible?" I wonder out loud.
"See this?" She points to the hole, and her hand goes right through it. "I got this baby from a cannon ball. That's what'll happen to you if you don't listen to me."
How'd you like it? Improvement? More? Ideas?
It's not over till I say it is!
~A
