The Alternia Games Chapter 1 – Part 1

DISCLAIMER: I do not own the Hunger Games. Suzanne Collins wrote that. I do not own Homestuck. Andrew Hussie drew that.

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War, terrible war. Widows, orphans, a motherless child. Freaks and aliens from outer space, many hostile encounters. There was an uprising that rocked our land when those aliens settled in. Thirteen districts rebelled against the country that fed them, loved them and protected them, with the help of their 'friends' from outer space. Brother turned on brother until nothing remained. And then came the peace, hard fought, sorely won. A people rose up from the ashes and a new era was born. But freedom has a cost. When the traitors were defeated, we swore as a nation we would never know this treason again. The aliens became trapped in slavery, forevermore. And so it was decreed, that each year, the various districts of Panem would offer up in tribute, one young man and woman, to fight to the death in a pageant of honor, courage and sacrifice. The lone victor, bathed in riches, would serve as a reminder of our generosity and our forgiveness. The most gruesome battles are those that belonged to the aliens. But they had brought it upon themselves. This is how we remember our past. This is how we safeguard our future.

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Today is the Culling.

Last night I felt cold. I probably slept alone. I wouldn't know, with all the nightmares that plague me. When I wake up, the Sun has just barely risen above the horizon. I always wake up at this time, but it's usually with Jake, my little brother, curled up beside me. The 'bed' I sleep in is empty; Jake had slept with Grandpa Harley that night. But of course he did. He must have been scared. I was.

It's his first year in the Culling.

I slowly got up and surveyed the 'house' I lived in. Sleeping on my 'bed' felt like sleeping on a rock, seeing as it was actually kind of a rock. We got it for half price at a Troll's Flea Market, a serious bargain. From where I sat, I could see Jake sleeping with Grandpa's arms around him. I smiled softly at that, before frowning at the white cat sleeping at their feet.

The white cat thing was dubbed 'Snow' by Jake. I called it God Cat instead. 'Snow' seemed like a pretty creepy name to me. I don't know why, so the name God Cat somehow fit the cat better, but I don't really know why. I call it instinct. But then again, I call it instinct when I say the God Cat hates me.

Or dislikes. Hate is a pretty strong word. God Cat is sort of okay, just doesn't like me all that much. Maybe it's because I accidentally shot at God Cat with Grandpa's revolver when I was just a kid and he was just a kitten. But that's okay, I'm a dog person. Becquerel is a girl's best friend, my very own lusus, but most importantly, my best dog friend. I love Bec, almost as much Jake and Grandpa Harley. I love lots of things and don't particularly hate a lot of things. Grandpa says I have a kind heart. I argue that I kill animals every day. While God Cat isn't my favourite cat in the world, I wouldn't kill it. And I… my parents…

Currently, Becquerel is out and not inside our 'house'. I don't usually see God Cat and Becquerel together, in the same area, at the same time. That could be contributed to the fact that they always disappear at random intervals. Or the fact that Grandpa also disappears at the same time Bec and God Cat do. Whenever Grandpa comes back, I feel cautious around him. But he's Grandpa Hass Harley. Why should I be cautious of him, let alone God Cat and Becquerel? They're always there when we, Jake and I, need them the most.

Getting up and stretching for a bit, I went over and put my blanket over my Grandpa and precious little brother. Walking over to our kitchen, I giggle softly when I notice the mandarin oranges, my favourite fruit, sitting on top of our wooden table. Sweet little Jake must have gone out with God Cat yesterday to pick some of them up. God Cat would shake the trees and then Jake would catch the fallen fruit.

He's such a sweet kid. Always so thoughtful, going out of his way to pick his big sister some of her favourite fruit. I love him.

Shrugging on my jacket, I pocketed the oranges into my small hunting purse, where I'd usually put the bullets I needed for my gun. I used a rifle as my main hunting weapon. Grandpa Hass Harley taught me how to handle it as a young girl, but didn't want me to use my skills around my little brother. Said something like, "Let the children be children…" or something along those lines. But seeing as Jake sort of idolizes me, I didn't find it surprising when he asked Grandpa to teach him how to shoot. It's sort of cute, really.

I tucked my dark long hair into my jacket's hood before sliding my old hunting shoes onto my feet and slipping outside. The Sun has barely moved from its spot on the horizon, but that's fine. Means that there is still time to sleep in before you must get up and get ready. But the Trolls are already awake and sweeping outside their homes. They must have slept last night with the rest of the town, instead of working or staying up during the dark, so that they could attend the reaping. But the streets of District 12 are always sprinkled with coal specks. It would be a futile effort to make anything look new by trying to sweep away every last black speck. But it keeps them busy.

The Trolls, I'm told, didn't always live here. They come from outer space, superior nocturnal beings to our puny existences, says our President. Personally, I go out of my way to be kind to them. I see them as a hurting race, trying to get back on their feet still, even decades after the war. They're nice, the Trolls, a little scary with the horns, grey skin and all. They're nice to me. I like them.

Even if a large percentage of mankind treats them as the slaves they supposedly are.

I begin to jog out away from the little clusters of gloomy homes that we of District 12 call the Seam. It's the poorer part of our District and also the place where most of the Trolls live, but my Family don't mind. Well, Grandpa Harley, Jake and I don't mind. Mother and Father…

I get back on track and run past a gate, into the Meadow. The Meadow is just a scruffy, enclosed field that is mainly used as a playground for younger kids. Separating the Meadow from the Woods is a highly electrified barb-wired fence that goes around District 12. Grandpa says it wasn't there back in his days, but after an attack of wild lusii on our town, the Mayor was forced to make the Trolls set up the fence. Grandpa says that sometimes he would try to help, if he could, but he was never allowed to by the Drone Officials. Grandpa says that he's helped the Trolls a lot.

While the fence is apparently 'electrified twenty-four hours a day as a deterrent to the predators that live in the woods – packs of wild lusii, lone cougars and bears', District 12 doesn't exactly get electricity 'twenty-four hours a day'. Meaning that it's usually safe to go under the fence. But as always, I wait and listen for the tell-tale humming of electricity before bending down and crawling through a hole in the wire fence.

Jogging quietly past the tree line, I stop by a tree before reaching it to its hollow trunk. I pulled out my trusty hunting rifle that once upon a time belonged to Grandpa Harley. It wasn't much, but it helped feed the family. Humans were permitted weapons by the President's decree, since we had to protect ourselves from the 'dangerous' Trolls that lurked our streets and the 'damned' lusii that lurked the shadows. I couldn't bear to shoot another fellow human being, let alone a Troll. That's just depressing.

But I could shoot wild lusii, after years of practicing and forcing myself to be strong. Strong enough to not start tearing up at the sight of a wounded, groaning lusii. Then I'd tell myself that this wasn't for me, but for Grandpa, who's too old, and Jake, who's too young. Holding the weight of my rifle also brings back memories of my Father, when he was still alive that is. When he wasn't a coward and was actually trying to teach me stuff about hunting and guns. It was nice. While it lasted.

I still flinch when I have to skin the lusii, the poor things. Actually, killing random wild animals had become legal for humans after the war, another mockery shoved into the faces of the Trolls, whom were forced to kneel before us. Grandpa told Jake once that the lusii were supposed to be Guardians of the Trolls, but the Capitol banished that tradition. So now, the lusii run free. I don't know if I should be happy or sad for them.

Sometimes, when the Woods seem empty of predators, the brave few townsfolk would venture out of the safety of the barb-wired fence with their trusty Troll servant or acquaintance at their side to pick some fruit from the fruit trees. They, the humans, would usually ask the Trolls to come with them. Protect the human and in return, the Troll would get to outside their prisons and visit the lusii. But the townsfolk never usually went very far, always with the Meadow their view.

"District Twelve. Where you can starve to death in safety," I mutter softly. I tensed and slowly looked around me, before continuing on, treading quietly through the Woods. Even if it seemed like you were all alone in the middle of nowhere, you worry that someone might hear you mumble something against the Capitol. Treason.

When I was younger, I was always forgetful, always absent-minded and forgetting where I was. I'd mumble my opinion on random, mundane things. People used to find it cute, but Grandpa didn't. He became worried that sooner or later I'd blurt something out at the wrong time. Something about the cruel rulers of our country Panem. Something completely treacherous about the people that lived in the hated city that is the Capitol.

So he taught me how to hold things in me, to myself, to put on a mask, to never betray what I am actually thinking. My mask was that of a quiet, cheerful but unassuming girl who knew nothing better yet was still optimistic. Grandpa also taught me how to blend in and just quietly go about doing my own thing. Respectfully talk with everyone around me and treat everyone equally. Let a little, but not a lot, of the true me slip into my words whilst I am in the Hob, the black market where I make my money.

I am extra careful to not blurt out anything around Jake, to always be alert when I am around him. Speak nothing of the starving people on the streets, the Trolls that surround us, the Culling, the Games, the war, the Capitol, Panem, anything offending at all. I speak nothing of it when I'm with my sweet little brother Jake.

But I do speak of it when I'm in the woods, with the only person I can ever be around with and still take my mask off. Dave. I take a deep breath in through my nose before continuing on. Walking past the tall dark trees, past the looming rock face to my right. I hear a small rustle in the bushes and pause, before proceeding onwards silently. I climb up a short steep hill to the rock face's other side and quietly walked around a grouping of miniature crab apple's towards my prey.

I wait a second before quickly rushing forward with an abrupt war cry, "Ha!" I turned quickly and faced an opening in the crab apple bushes, aiming my rifle's nozzle at the blonde haired guy sitting there calmly.

"Jade," he intones, raising his blonde eyebrow coolly, "You're finally here."

I scrunched up my nose before grinning wildly at him, raising my rifle up as well, "Morning Cool-kid! I thought I'd surprise you, but it looks like you already knew I was coming!'

He shook his head at me, a small smirk appearing on his lips, "Well you didn't exactly fucking attempt to be hidden. You were just walking along the woods like you were the shit, all alone." Despite all his swear words, I knew Dave didn't really mean them (all…), "Of course I'd see you, fucking I'm way to cool to not. But, as a sorry, I can offer you this." Dave, smirking, pulled out his katana and I immediately noticed the bread skewered through it.

"Dave," I drawled out in mock dismay, "Looks like you killed another poor, innocent, shop bought and expensive loaf of bread!"

Dave shrugged his shoulders at me in mock confusion, "But Jade, I thought it was for a fucking good cause." He shook his ironic head at me before ironically saying, "I don't see you bringing any offerings to this grand, esteemed and shitty gathering of ours."

Jerk. He knows that I always bring something for us to snack on before hunting. Or to be precise, Jake or Grandpa gives me something to bring to our 'grand, esteemed and shitty gathering'.

Dave, as I called him before, is a cool-kid. He's two years older than I am but is most definitely my best friend and hunting partner. He has striking blonde hair and always wears either red clothes or his black shades. Right now he's wearing his black shades but not his usual bright attire, so as to not attract unwanted attention from the animals around here.

I placed my rifle down next to me carefully. Dave rolled his eye at me while I took out my hunting purse with the mandarin oranges in them and tossed them at him. I sat down as quietly as I could, but still smiled cheerily. Dave snorted before coolly commenting to me that 'You're smiling weirdly again, Jade'. Dave says I smile the most when I'm either in the woods or with family and friends. I don't think I can disagree.

"Jerk, open the bag already!" Dave smirks, opening the bag at an agonisingly slow pace. He opened the bag a bit quicker when I kicked him and finally opened the bag all the way when I kicked him a second time. He grumbled before deciding to not show me what was in the bag as payback. But I knew what was in the bag. Jerk.

"Oranges? Huh, nice fucking nutritious snacks for us before we begin to fucking illegally hunt. Yet our town starves whilst the guilty eats… ironic." He muttered the last bit quietly, "When did you even pick these? Or did Jake pick them for you?"

I smiled, albeit a bit sadly at his other comment, "Yeah, he picked these for us! He's such a sweet brother! He knows I like these oranges! They're mandarin oranges!"

Dave shrugged at me, tilting his head to side a bit in a thoughtful motion, "Shit, Jade, really? You don't need to fucking ramble. Remember, you're the fruit picker, not me. Don't get technical with all the fucking fruit names!"

I laughed at him and soon we laughed together. We then lapsed into a comfortable silence, sitting in each other's presence, eating tasty fruit and bread in the warmth of the early mornings. I look out through our hiding place and see the beautiful view of the forest. While the Woods is dangerous, it's also a beautiful place to hunt for food, search the trees for fruit and even dig up roots to cook.

From next to me, Dave snorts inaudibly. I hear him only because I am sitting next to him, but I still turn my head towards him. Dave looks towards me too and I can see his striking red eyes over the black shades that are slipping down his nose. We stare into each other's eyes, daring the other to blink.

And I blinked.

I pouted at him while he chuckled softly. He pats my head a bit, as if I were a puppy, before stretching his arms towards the sky. He stops, as if remembering something before turning towards me then leaning back to lie on the ground serenely, "Oh yeah. Happy fucking Alternia Games, Jade." I lean down to lay beside him, "And may the fucking odds-"

"Be ever in your favour!" I said in my best cheery and Capitol accent. Dave laughed a bit and I giggled with him. He reached for my hand and we lay there together, gripping each other's hands, looking at the endless blue sky. We comforted each other with our mere presence.

I won't lie; the Capitol accent was really funny, no matter what you say. Dave and I always joke about it around this time of the year. The Culling, then the Alternia Games. It makes me feel better to laugh something off than be shaking out of fear at it. The Capitol accent originates from the Capitol.

The Capitol is where they control our lives, through the Alternia Games.

It definitely makes me feel better to laugh off something from the Capitol then to shake in fear at it.

Dave softly whispers to me, "We should run away. Away from all of this." He doesn't dare say the words 'Alternia Games', or the words 'Culling'. "Hell, we could do it. There must be a life away from this fucking… tyranny."

I look at him sadly, the smile falling from my lips, "Dave…"

Dave sighs, understanding my unspoken words, "Yeah, it would be dangerous." More than dangerous, it would be life threatening. "But what if we could get away from this all? All this shit?" I shake my head softly, so Dave doesn't push the issue. I could never leave District 12 willingly.

For one, Jake was still so young. If we ever did get caught, I'd be so frightened at what they would do to little Jake that the fear itself stops me from running out of here. Grandpa was another thing, being so old and frail. I also want to help out the Trolls, no matter how hopeless that endeavour would be. Makes me wonder if there could ever be another way out. Like an underground tunnel or something. But that's ridiculous; an idea conjured up in my desperate mind. Because I too want to escape.

Dave has it easier. He has one older brother that's past the Culling age. His older brother won't be culled. Though his older brother isn't always home, so Dave had to take care of himself. Especially after his Dad died.

"You're scared for Jake, aren't you?" Dave's voice breaks through my gloomy thoughts.

I nod, or try to nod, seeing as I'm lying on the ground, "Not just Jake, but Grandpa too. And Becquerel and maybe God Cat…"

"But mostly Jake?" I shrug at his questions, but he continues on, "I don't fucking get how you can be so enamoured with your kid brother. Always looking out for him. Like a fucking Spidermom that always gets her little Spiderkid to behave and stuff." I bristle and squeeze Dave's hands a bit at the fact that I was just compared to an elephant, "Sheesh, chill Jade! What I'm fucking saying is that maybe if I had a kid brother, I'd understand you more. Or maybe my own kid."

I blink at his statement before replying with a frown, "I never want to have kids."

"I would. * And if I didn't live here," He replies.

I finally sit up and turn my whole body to face him, "But Dave, you do live here."

Dave, who also sits up with me, sighs, "Never mind." He stands up and pulls me with him. He then bends down to pick up his long sword and my rifle, handing me my weapon while sheathing his own. He also picks up the now empty hunting purse and shoves in some extra bullets that he picked up from the Hob. Not wanting to stand around uselessly, I clean up the remains of our little picnic, disposing what needed to be disposed.

I don't understand why Dave is so worried. He doesn't have to worry about his relatives, seeing as he only has one. He doesn't really need to worry about food. Even when both our Dads were executed, I was still a young, buck-toothed teenager. Dave was already sixteen, a young man, a cool-kid, ready to face the 'whole damned world', as he would put it. Dave is a handsome guy; many of the girls from school would give everything up to be his woman. For all I knew, he could be messing about with some girl. He could have his very own kid if he wanted.

Not that I'm jealous or anything. Dave's my best friend. Nothing more. Nothing less.

Or so I tell myself. Dave being my best friend could explain why I get annoyed when girls approach him in hoards. Or why Dave twitches when a guy approaches me in Town or in the Hob. Yeah, that explains everything.

"So," Dave started again coolly, walking away from the bushes and into the dark Woods, "Where do you want to hunt today, Jade?"

I rolled my shoulders to stop them from tensing when he spoke up again. I thought about what we could do, before replying, "Why don't you choose today? Seeing as it is your last year in the Culling and all!" He smiles slightly at that, "We could hunt, fish or pi-"

A lone howl in the distance cuts me off and Dave's eyes quickly flick above my head. He wraps his arm around my waist before carting me into the dark shade of the trees, just as something dark appears in the sky. I tense and so does Dave. We must be prepared to run.

A hovercraft appears.

It was a medium sized hovercraft, dark in colour. It obscured the blue sky from our vision as it hovered above us. It didn't move. We didn't move. Just like how we didn't move when another hovercraft hovered near us, long ago.

Not when the female Troll with red eyelashes and long flowing hair had tripped. Not when the male Troll in yellow looked over his shoulders at the incoming hovercraft. Not when the red and blue sparks came from his eyes and zoomed towards his enemy. Not when the female Troll saw us, frozen and hidden in the bushes.

Not when he got captured. Not when she got captured.

Not when she screamed.

We didn't move. We never moved.

The hovercraft that hovered above us in the present had long moved on towards the town, presumably carrying cameras and reporters from the Capitol, sent to capture our Culling on film. Dave and I, we still didn't move. In one hand, I clutched my rifle, with my finger on the trigger. In the other, I clutched Dave's hands.

Dave slumped a bit against me before looking up and giving me a small tentative smirk, "Why don't we fish today? It'll be fucking relaxing and you know it."

I gave him a small tentative smile back, "Okay, Dave. I'll trust your decision."

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A/N: This is Chapter 1, Part 1 of my Hunger Games and Homestuck crossover, The Alternia Games. It was a random idea me and my buddy came up with when we were presumably high. We had written down all our ideas in my Maths book before I began to write this up. Later on, I figured out that half of the characters were given the wrong roles, in my eyes, like how Dave should have been Peeta with his hair and how John should be Gale since he looks like Jade and how Jade should have been Jane, but it was too late to change anything. So I kept on writing.

This will mostly go along with the book's plot, since I have the book and it's easier for me. But, I will be adding in memorable scenes from the movie, like the hovercraft scene. Feel free to ask me about the story if you don't get something, I'll give you hints! ;P

Also, insert this: If I was a chick. Where you saw the *. Because seriously, only women can have kids.

Jokes.

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