Title: The Hunger Games - Broken Arrows
Author: ohmyklaine
Chapter: 1/?
Summary: A The Hunger Games/Glee crossover. Following the destruction of modern society, a terrifying reality TV Show is taking place. 24 teenagers are sent to an arena in a Gladiator-style survival Game. There is only one rule: Kill or be killed. It's the 25th Hunger Games, marking this the 1st Quarter Quell, and a cruel twist shakes the nation of Panem to the core.
Ships: Brittana, Klaine, Faberry, Neff.
Main Characters: Brittany, Santana, Nick, Jeff, Kurt, Blaine, Puck, Finn, Rachel, Quinn.
Do I Need To Have Read The Hunger Games To Understand?: No.
One
District 1:
Santana.
"I don't know who is favourite to be chosen, Santana, but myself and your mother have voted for you, and you can still volunteer even if you don't…"
I choose to tune out my fathers impending speech about 'making the family proud' and 'bringing it home for our district'. Although I've been trained all my life for the Games, I'm not sure I want it like this.
I wander over to the mirror, and pull my long, black hair into a high ponytail with an elastic band, making absolutely sure it's as straight and tight as it'll go. Appearances are important, and if I end up on my way to the Capitol today, I want to be looking my best - whilst also giving off the allusion that I'm a ruthless, fierce, born fighter who wont take shit from anybody.
Of course, that's what I am. I'm also my parents last hope of having a tribute and, potentially, a victor in the family. My older siblings reached past eighteen years without their name being pulled out at the Reaping. And because they've always had me to fall back on, my father didnt push them into volunteering.
But my sister, Liadan, turned nineteen two months back, which means it's my duty. I don't know if my father pushing me into being the female District One tribute is a by-product of his faith in me that I'll win, or him saying the Lopez family potentially having a victor as a daughter is worth the risk of me being ruthlesly, sloppily killed by another teenager for entertainment,
"Gosh, Santana, when did you get so pessimistic?" I mutter to myself, outlining my eyes with a black kohl pencil. I honestly pity people living in poorer Districts, do they even have this stuff out in 12? I'm assuming not, anyway, since the only stuff they have on their faces when they show themselves on the live broadcast of the Reaping is soot and dust, due to the fact they're a coal mining District.
"Are you ready yet?" my mothers shrill voice sounds from the hallway. Father has stopped talking at this stage, and looks at me. I'm not sure what that expression is - the only way I can describe it is, him thinking You better not embarrass me out there.
There really is no avoiding it this year. I'm seventeen, the age at which I agreed to volunteer if I hadnt been chosen prior.
It's the 25th Hunger Games, the first Quarter Quell, and I'm going to be a tribute.
Puck.
"But Nowah, pwease don't… don't leave me."
I stare down into my little sisters wide, green eyes, and I try to keep my face from faltering as I see them fill with tears. "I'm not going anywhere. We're going out, and then we're all coming home together, and I'm going to cook you your favourite rice, to celebrate."
It breaks my heart to lie to her like this, but she's only four years old, she knows nothing solid about the Games. My mom shields her eyes from the televised events, and sometimes I think she's glad she has Gracine to protect from them. That way, she doesnt have to look, either.
Of course, my dad thinks it's rediculous carry on - he actually freaking complains about mom's apparent 'weakness' when it comes to this time of year, and is also of the opinion Gracie should be educated early, because wouldn't that give her an advantage once she's eligible to be a tribute?
How do you explain The Hunger Games to a four year old? I would often muse over this question, in case he was ever given the unfortunate task of telling her. 24 people between twelve and eighteen are sent to the big city to play a game in a big arena where they all kill each other until there's only one left standing. Somehow, this seems a little blunt.
Every Friday, dad takes me out to a field at the back of our District, and teaches me skills.
Killing skills.
He teaches me how to kill people.
That's what he calls bonding time.
I'm not a whimp. Let me make that clear. Actually, I think I am the perfect male tribute for our district, especially for the Quarter Quell. I fully intend on volunteering in the unlikely event I'm not voted for. But… when I look into my little sisters eyes? That's when I break down. Just don't tell anyone that.
District 2:
Quinn.
I make my way down to our towns centre with an actual spring in my step. This is it. I've been training all my life for this. I'm seventeen years old now, which means it's my last chance to bring back a victory for my District - for my family. And what better way to do it than in the first Quarter Quell? It's like fate. I can see it now… last tribute standing. The cheers as I make my way back to District Two… the Victory Tour… being a mentor at future Games… passing my own wisdom down to the next generation of tributes… That's my future. It's my goal.
The twist to this years Games is that, instead of the names of a male and female being drawn at random, the District's people get to choose who competes. Some may be troubled by this, but personally, I'm very glad, it gives me a better chance - actually, it kind of guarantees it - and since I know I'm going to win, why worry? Nobody in that arena is going to be more skilled with a knife than me, nobody is going to be able to match my aim, my determination and my drive.
My father is, of course, very proud of me - my sister is the last victor District Two has had, three years ago… and now I'm going to be following in Frannie's footsteps. Mummy might not be as thrilled about it as he and I are - she went through enough worry with Fran, I suppose, but there is really no need for concern, as I've tried to explain many times before.
I'm ready. With a deep breath, and a look to Daddy for support, I step forward to sign in with a Peacekeeper.
District 5:
Nick
"No, Mom, honestly, it's fine, I'm not five, I can fix my own tie." I sigh at her, batting her hands away and pull at the thin fabric around my collar.
"If that's so, it wouldn't be messed up in the first place!"
I shoot her a look of clear annoyance. How she expects me to keep my hands steady today of all days is beyond me. Heck, even she broke a mug this morning, she was shaking so much! Although, I highly doubt she was worried about me. I'm not exactly likely to be chosen for the games this year. No, the reason the house has been so tense this week is because Fredrick, my brother, turned twelve this year, and… well, my District doesn't really… approve of him? Basically, they don't treat him like a human being on a normal basis, so chances are they probably will have considered him as a tribute for the Quarter Quell.
I stand up for him every day. I don't take any shit - and I certainly don't let him, either. So he's slow. That's not a reason for people to think he's of no use, that he's just occupying space. I kick the leg of an empty chair beside me, the unintentional force knocking it to the ground.
"Nick," Mom warns, rushing over to pick it up. "Not today. We aren't having it today."
It's the biggest load of hypocritical bullshit I've ever heard. I have anger issues. Fred has a learning disability. Shouldn't I be the logical person out of the two of us to be chosen for the Games?
"Are you ready yet?"
"No, Mom. I'm waiting for Jeff. We're going to the centre with him and his family, remember?"
I see a small smile play upon her lips. "You two are going strong, arent you?"
"Not if I get sent to the arena tonight." I throw back this sarcastic response, but, despite everything, I cant help it. I grin at the thought of my best friend of six years, boyfriend of six months. Because Jeff, truly, is the most important person in my life.
Jeff
I'm ahead of my parents on the way to Nick's house. Mainly, I want to avoid their worried glances, and even more disturbed ones over the fact I've forced them into spending this day with my boyfriends family. Since I got together with him, I'd quickly experienced the difference between tolerance and acceptance. Tolerance is my Mom and Dad, Acceptance is Nick's Mom and brother.
Still, it wont stop me from trying to change that every opportunity I get. Even Reaping days.
I reach the door of House 14, and knock upon the wood eagerly. Obviously, they know it's me, by my trademark three-quick-taps, because I'm only standing there a moment before it flies open and Nick launches himself into my arms.
"Babe, you just knocked the wind out of me," I chuckle, nuzzling his neck when he, in response, just tightens his grip upon me. I'm used to his enthusiastic greetings, and to be honest I wouldn't have it any other way, even if it did mean my Dad clearing his throat uncomfortably behind us.
"Are you scared?" Nick whisperes to me as he pulls out of the embrace, letting his hands rest loosely on my waist.
"For you." I admit, brushing a stray strand of his dark, wavy hair our of his eyes. "It'll be okay, Nicky."
He nods, and I notice that he's starting to tremble. I know what this means, so I quickly place my hands on top of his, and pull him inside. "The last thing we need is you freaking out, dude." I raise my eyebrows at him. Humour usually works. "The anger would be great in the arena, save it for that."
"You're terrible." he groans back at me, punching my shoulder, luckily only lightly. "Are you… all set?"
I look back at my parents, and nod. "Yup."
Next Time on The Hunger Games - Broken Arrows: The remaining Districts prepare for the Reaping.