A/N: Welcome one and all, to Hunger Games: The Three Cornucopias. First off, this is a RE-WRITE of 'The Hunger Games Destinies Entwined' that I wrote three years ago. I will be adding some scenes, altering others, doing a massive spelling and grammar check and generally making it more detailed and intricate. It will still remain the same in terms of plot points, deaths, and progress. But if you have read Destinies Entwined, I strongly encourage you to read The Three Cornucopias as it is going to be better. Three years is a long time to hone my craft.
Amber Waverly
District 1
I slowly walk down one of the branches of the main road of District 1, which bustles with men and women working on making objects; models, music boxes, clothes encrusted with jewellery as well as selling these things to the citizens of the District. It's actually great being in District 1, seeing as how it's the richest district and all. Big spacious marble buildings for each house, gardens the size of parks, glossy oak doors, each of them like manors. The shops were often the same with marble walls and smooth glass. It must be expensive, but then again, the Capitol treats us handsomely for supplying them with all their trinkets such as jewels, necklaces and rings. We get along, although there IS a slight sense of boredom. For me at least. Nothing exciting happens here, not really.
How do I spend my time? I train. I train for one thing and one thing only: to get into the Hunger Games. The Hunger Games are contests set up by the Gamemakers of the Capitol, where every district, from 1 to 12, send their supplies to. It's punishment for a rebellion against the Capitol 100 years ago, and every year twenty-four children, ranging from ages twelve to eighteen - one male, one female - have to participate in these Games. Only one can win. The others, to be frank, die.
That's right. It's a fight to the death. So why would I, a sixteen year-old healthy girl with a loving brother to boot want to participate and most likely be killed? Simple. Revenge. The boy I loved was killed, no, murdered exactly a year ago. I quickly shake my head. I don't want to think about that, not now. I need to prepare myself mentally for what I'm about to do in three hours.
"Hey! Hey, Amber!"
I turn to the voice directed at me and see one of those silly girls from school bustling towards me, dressed in a repulsive pink dress and a face layered with perhaps the worst make-up I'd ever seen applied, dragging a somewhat reluctant boy by the hand. "Yes?" I ask, forcing a small smile.
The girl reaches me and smiles widely, showing bright white teeth. "Hey, what do you say about coming with me to get some clothes? Us girls need our clothes, you know?"
"Sorry, but I got quite enough clothes as it is." Pathetic. Absolutely pathetic. I hate these 'girly-girls' who concentrate on only looks and not their battle prowess. The once proud District 1 reduced to this. It used to be filled to the brim with teens wanting to win the Games; used to be filled with teens not afraid to kill. But now money got to the children, and they were pampered and treated to their hearts extent. Pathetic.
"Oh…" The girl's face fell as if it were the end of the world. "I guess I'll see you around then…" With an awkward look, the girl walks away, the boy shrugging at me as he was pulled with her. Obviously they were boyfriend and girlfriend, but I'm sure in a month or so, the boy will find someone prettier, and then the girl will break down, have a bit of a cry and moan, and then find someone else to result in the exact same thing. The tragic circle of the fake and spoilt… It's just too bad, to be honest.
I reach the end of the street and turn down another, reaching a wide, flat building at the end. It was a training center which once thrived in teenagers training for the Games, but now was practically abandoned other that a select few who have my silent respect. I ignore them all as I pass by and enter the locker room, glancing at the mirror in my locker. Subconsciously I brush a strand of my dark brown hair from my eyes and blink. I'll be honest, the only things I completely care about are my amber eyes, which are nearly hazel. I sometimes just sit and stare into my eyes to think. They were the features that Jake loved so much about me…
Once again, I shake my head. This is not the train of thought I need to be in! I quickly pull my head from my memories and tug my cardigan and t-shirt off to reveal my well-toned stomach and small breasts. I don't care about the size of my breasts like the majority of female teenagers at school - in fact, it's a blessing in disguise. I can move around much easier with them smaller than average. I pull on a simple white vest and pull back my hair, pulling on a pair of black trousers. Despite being a girl, I don't worry about changing so freely in a unisex locker room. The few people who are here concentrate solely on training - any other interest is handled outside the building.
The bulk of the center is basically a large square room with all sorts of different equipment set up in a circle. There are weights, gymnastic equipment, ropes hung from the ceiling, and a special fighting area where people can practice with real weapons - albeit blunt - on straw dummies. This is where I head as I do every day, grabbing a dagger from its slot in the rack that only gets used by me and only me.
Two hours of hard work is wonderful. Sweat drenches my face and arms, but I'm not worried about the smell. I actually like the smell of sweat in that it proves that I've worked extremely hard.
I'm confident. I'm pretty sure that I'll be able to win this thing.
I take to the shower stalls and quickly strip off, turning on the warm water. I stare down at my glistening body, past my chest and down onto my belly which moves slowly and then down past my thighs to my feet. Isn't it funny that no matter how hard the majority of the girls try that a person who doesn't even try looks much better than them? I don't train to look good - I train to be good. I step into the water and sigh as the warm water sends small streams down through my hair and on my skin. I just stand there, my eyes closed, the memory of a man's laugh invading my thoughts. That sweet, deep laugh…
I know I'll find your killer Jake. I know it. Once I win this, I'll have enough resources to track your killer down. I will go to the ends of the earth; I will tear down the Capitol itself to find the man who murdered you.
"Amber? Amber, are you here?"
Oh. Great. Just great. My brother's here. I mean, I love him dearly and all that, but sometimes he seems a bit too… obsessive about me. Not in any kind of sexual way but more like he wants to keep me safe from the so-called dangers of the world.
Yeah… right.
It's funny - or rather worrying - though. Once I volunteer, I have this horrible feeling Jasper is going to do something stupid, like volunteer himself to watch over me in the Games.
No. No, he definitely wouldn't do something that stupid… would he?
Jasper Waverly
District 1
Hey, so it may be stupid, but I know what I have to do.
If my sister volunteers, which I know she will, then I'm volunteering for sure. I just can't sit here and watch as Amber goes and kills herself like that, I need to be there to protect here. I need to watch over her! She's only sixteen for Christ's sake!
While I wait in the locker room for Amber to finish her shower, I check myself in the mirror of her open locker and brush my hands through my already scruffy brown hair. I have the same eyes as my sister, but I would not be caught dead staring into them. That is only one of the many weird habits my sister has.
I take a look around the locker room, noting that it had much better equipment than the school locker room, where everything smells like somebody died and the walls are covered in graffiti. The only place in school where it doesn't get cleaned off. I like it here - although I don't like where 'here' is. The training center. I don't agree with my sister about training for the Games, but my sister is driven by revenge. She wouldn't even consider not doing anything if she thought there was a tiny ounce of evidence it would help her find the killer. Even if she does win, she would have no idea where to start: Jake's body was devoid of any kind of evidence. I worry that her revenge will do much more harm than good.
At this thought, Amber comes out of the section where the showers are, clad in a white towel, never bashful as always. "What is it?" she asks brusquely, using another towel to dry her hair. She never liked me visiting her here. I don't know if she's embarrassed or what. I've got to admit, I've seen what she can do and she is good at doing it.
"Don't you know what time it is?" I ask, tapping the black band around my wrist like a watch, a gift from Amber herself. "It's only an hour until the reaping. We need to get dressed up for the occasion." Some would say things like: "Come back to mom and dad, they got a present for you" or "Mom and Dad are waiting for you back home, come on!" Not us though.
Why?
It's simple, really. Our parents… well… Derek and Martha are 'moving on to bigger and better things' as they put it.
I hear a cough and my sister is giving me one of her looks. She doesn't even answer my previous question.
"Are you getting out? Or do you want to watch me?" she asks, raising her eyebrow.
Just great. I quickly turn away, inspecting a crack in the wall and hoping that the blood rising to my cheeks won't show. I think as I stare at the chipped stone. Is it really okay for me to go into the Hunger Games for my sister?
The answer comes easily to my brain. Yes. She's my little sister; it is my duty to protect her. No matter the cost.
Back at home Amber and I sit on the sofa, prepared for the reaping. She is dressed back in her usual clothes instead of dressing fancy, in that she's wearing a black cardigan over her red top, navy jeans, and knee-length black boots. As we wait, I notice Amber itch a scar on her forearm unconsciously, a memento of a fall a while back, her chipped black nails scraping away on the skin.
"Stop it," I say. "You know you shouldn't scratch that. It's discomforting anyway."
"Sure…" she says, her eyes shut loosely. She doesn't stop scratching.
I scoot over slightly. "What's wrong sis? I thought you were set on doing this?"
My sister opens her eyes quickly and looks into my own. Not only our color but our shape is exactly the same. It's like I was looking into my own eyes. "No. I'm definitely doing it. Not for myself, not for anybody but Jake. It's just that… you're going to do something stupid, aren't you?" Her accusing glare caught me red-handed. I feel my chest tighten.
"Well… you see…" I lamely try to make an excuse. I wasn't actually planning on telling her. Did Amber know of my intentions?
"You're going to volunteer, aren't you Jasper?" Amber's eyes were pleading. It breaks a brother's heart to know that I couldn't give her the answer she wanted.
I know I can't lie to her. She's my sister, of course I wouldn't lie about something like this. "If you volunteer… I plan to too."
Amber Waverly
District 1
I just knew it. Of course I did. Jasper's tall and lean frame was hunched over, his cut and bruised face apologetic but firm.
"You idiot…" I murmur. "You can't volunteer."
"Why not?" He looks back into my eyes. "You are my sister, I can't just-"
"Because if you volunteer I will kill you."
That one blunt statement stops him right in his tracks. I look firmly at him, showing that I'm not lying, and I wasn't.
"Ah…" Jasper utters as an answer, stroking his chin in thought.
"Exactly. Don't do it Jasper." I say calmly. "Don't throw away your life for me, okay? Our parent's may have left us… but you can't leave me, can you?"
I stand up at the sound of the trumpets indicating that every child from twelve to eighteen should go to the square. Perfect timing. "Let's go." I say, walking out into the brisk open air. I glance back at Jasper who is deep in thought. He notices me waiting and stands up, looking pale and shaken. Good.
As we walk through the street, we notice different kids walking in the direction of the square. Some are scared, a few stride in cocky confidence, while even less are set in grim determination. I spot the girl from before and try to stifle a snort. She's crying into the shoulder of a completely different boy. Maybe she was dumped already. Serves her right.
"So… how are you feeling?" Jasper asks me shakily, biting his lip.
"Excited. Confident. Kinda worried. Possibly scared for what you'll do." I answer honestly. I'm hoping I shook him hard enough that it will be too late to volunteer before he has a chance to think about it.
Jasper just nods, taking in a deep breath, and I could tell by the way his eyebrows lowered that he was thinking extremely hard. Don't make that decision, Jasper.
The square appeared before us, filling up with kids. I split up from Jasper without a word - I could say my goodbyes later - and went into the sixteen-years old area, along with a couple of people I knew roughly from school. Jasper himself went to the seventeen area. In the middle of the square was a big wooden stage in front of the Justice Building, and it was on this stage that four chairs stood. Next to the chairs on either side were the huge glass balls containing every child's name a number of times. Mine was somewhere in there the minimum of 5 times. If I'm chosen, good. If not, even better. Sitting on the far left chair was Festive, a woman who was rather big. She was one of the winner's back when volunteers were in the extreme and it was a race to volunteer. I remember re-watching the games she won, where she managed to win by gouging out the runner-ups eyes. She would be mentoring the girl who was chosen, or should I say me?
To the far right, opposite Festive, sat the male mentor, Jaden, a thin, young man who won two years ago at the age of sixteen. He was a surprise as no one volunteered for him and he never actually killed anyone personally during his time. At the end of the Games, he tricked the runner-up into a pit of spikes and kept to his interview, where he vowed he would win without placing a hand on the other Tributes.
Next to Jaden sat the escort for our district, a fat man with short, yet vibrantly pink, hair, with studs in his ears. This man was to draw our names soon.
However, at this moment, the mayor was taking to the stage, a man with grey hair who would look old if it weren't for his youthful smile. In front of the mayor was the podium that was supporting a cardboard box.
"Good afternoon citizens of District 1. Before we start, allow me to talk about the Capitol, and how each district rose from the ashes…"
Cue the time to zone out. Twenty minutes is as long as it takes for the mayor to recite the yearly story of how the districts came to be, and praised the Capitol for giving everyone a chance, that we won't disappoint.
Finally, the mayor coughs and leans closer to the microphone. "As you'll know, I have special news."
I straighten my back, now listening intently. This should be good.
"This year's Hunger Games is the fourth Quarter Quell, and as is customary, a rule shall be added or changed. Usually the president of the esteemed Capitol would have this great honour, however, due to unforeseen circumstances, he has given the task to me as the mayor of District 1. For this, I am forever grateful." With that, the mayor coughed again. "Inside this box lie a number of cards, each with one of the aforementioned rules. I will now pick out a card for the special rule of the one-hundredth Hunger Games!"
A brief applause breaks out as the mayor reaches into the box and pulls out a card. His smile stretched further before he reads the rule out:
"This year, the Hunger Games will not have one Cornucopia, nor two, but three! There will be three Cornucopias around the arena, hidden away. Each Cornucopia holds a certain aspect of survival. There will be food in one, weapons in another and general supplies, including medicine, in the third."
I cross my arms. This will be interesting. Three different Cornucopias and none of them will be at the beginning of the Games. I briefly think of what I would try to find and I immediately answer that thought with food. Food is most important for me; I don't prefer all that natural foraging stuff that the other districts do. I'll need food to stay energized. If push comes to shove I don't need weapons and I shouldn't need medicine as long as I'm careful.
"Welcome, one and all!"
It takes a moment to register the high-pitched squeaky voice to realise that it belongs to the fat escort. Wow.
"That is certainly marvellous!" The escort trills, his jowls wobbling. "For those who do not know, my name is Opal, and I am proud to be here in the most wonderful District 1. But enough of that, let us choose the honoured contestants from District 1! I believe it is ladies first?" Opal walks over to the glass bowl filled with slips and puts his hand in, wriggling it around dramatically. Finally, he pulls out a name and peers at it. "Ang-"
I shoot my hand up, called out before he can even speak. "I volunteer!" I say the words without a single doubt in my mind.
This is for Jake.
Jasper Waverly
District 1
"I volunteer!"
I wish I could be surprised. I really wish I could. But I can't be. I knew it all this time. My sister would volunteer and strive to find her revenge for Jake. Nobody could stop her and now she will be in the Games, no doubt about it. My sister steps out from the crowd and her face is oozing confidence. Just for the cameras, I assume. She doesn't show her confidence usually. I sigh, and I know that my choice is coming soon.
"Well, well, that is certainly a surprise! Couldn't even wait for me to finish!" Opal calls out, winking at the cameras in yet again an overly-dramatic fashion. "Tell me, what is your name?" Opal sticks out his pudgy little hand which Amber shakes.
"My name is Amber Waverly. I am here for revenge."
I can just tell the cameras are zooming eagerly on her face. Everyone loves a good revenge story.
"Oooooh…" Opal whispers in yet again another stupid dramatic fashion. "Well, let's wait for the interviews to get all the little juicy details, shall we? Let us hear it for Amber Waverly!"
Another brief little applause although Opal is literally wobbling as he is clapping so enthusiastically. "Well then, let us go over to the boy's, hmm?" Opal waddles over to the bowl and this time quickly pulls out a slip. "Meppo Glee!"
A small boy from the twelve year-old section slowly walks over, fear etched on his face. But no-one volunteers as quick as Amber did.
Now is the time. I need to make a decision. What Amber said before shook me. That she would kill me. But… but is she really prepared for the Games? I wouldn't be abandoning anyone as it is just me and her. I see Amber's eyes staring holes into me, willing me to be quiet, to shut the hell up, to just stay silent. Then I catch a hand moving to my left. That makes up my mind before I can think further. I slyly step to the side and knock the hand into the boy's side and throw my own hand up in a flash.
"I volunteer!"
Amber closes her eyes and slumps in her chair with the look of someone who had just received news of cancer. I stare at her. I will protect Amber at all costs, no matter the obstacle. Amber will win the Hunger Games and will find her revenge for Jake's murder. I guarantee it.
A/N:- Something important to note is that I've changed the universe slightly in that Peeta succumbed to his wounds before Katniss got back, thus dying. She still got to the cornucopia, Cato still got attacked by the Muttations, but Katniss won herself. She never used the berries, thus the rebellion never got started and never happened. The Games are still going strong with Katniss as a mentor now.
Also, there will be two mentors - one for each gender. It is first person and will be from NINE perspectives - District 1,2,5,7 and 12.
Finally, I only own my own characters and the plot (and some creations of the districts and whatnot), and Angie2282, AlexTheMortal, Yajuu Kikuishi, Zac's Username Sucks, and Mulligatawny own their respective characters. (Their usernames are what they were at time of submission).