Prologue 1:
Three Months Before The Quell
Clark Botwright, Victor of the 149th Hunger Games
Clark pulls the hood closer around his face as he weaves around the other students as they leave the university, trying to blend in with the crowd around him. But he can't go anywhere now without being recognized in the District, especially not when he's the youngest person attending these classes. Even after being in these classes for several months now, there are still a few who will whisper about him, a mix of awe and aversion. The aversion he deserves for the way he was at the start. The awe… not so much. He didn't do anything special in the games to deserve awe.
When Clark steps out the door, he pauses to take in the bustling noise, still appreciating it every single day. It's one more reminder that he made it out of the arena, no longer in the quiet, snowy forest…
Except he lost so much in that arena.
"Clark."
Clark's attention is brought back to District Eight, knowing that voice anywhere. It would be hard for him to not recognize the sharp tone laced with concern from his former mentor and now fellow victor. From his family. Clark stubbornly walks down the front steps of the university, heading towards the older woman sitting on the edge of the fountain in front, not trying to hide her bright hair that makes her stick out. "Come to babysit me? Don't think I can handle watching the announcement on my own?" Astrid only smiles at his stubbornness and stands up when he reaches her. He looks up at her, realizing that their height difference isn't as obvious as before. "Are you shrinking? That old already?"
"No kid, you're just finally getting to be the height of a normal person," Astrid lets out a single laugh at this as they start walking back towards their homes. Like every other day, Clark is thanking the President for placing the university close to the Victor's Village so he doesn't have to walk past so many people. So many people staring at him because he killed people older than him and lost his friends.
"What did you work on today?" Astrid finally asks, glancing over at him and seemingly unaware of the attention following them as people rush home to make it in time for the announcement.
Clark tightens his grip on the strap on his shoulder, bringing the messenger bag in front of him protectively. "The usual…" he mumbles to her, staring down at the ground so he doesn't have to face his mentor. Doesn't want to see the pity from her that he still can't get past the games.
When he finally decides to look over at Astrid, he's shocked by the smile on her face, almost looking…proud of him. Which only makes him start scowling because what has he done to deserve that pride? "She would be so happy to see you taking these art classes."
"She would have been happier being in them herself," Clark mutters to himself and looks ahead, standing a bit on his toes to try and see above the crowd. Just barely, he can catch sight of the gates around their homes.
"You're right," Astrid answers and Clark can just see her shrug out of the corner of his eye. "But you know how it works. We were only going to ever get one of you out. That's something you really need to start getting ready for, now that we're only a few months away."
"I know that!" Clark stubbornly responds, voice starting to raise at the thought of being a mentor, even with Astrid coaching and working with him for the same tribute. He lets out a shaky sigh at the stress that has been slowly building up in him for the past couple of weeks as the Quell announcement approached. Stress that whatever they throw at them is going to be too much for Clark to help them. Hell, he barely even knows how to help in a normal year… "I'm sorry."
"For what?" Astrid asks as they wait at the corner to cross a busy intersection. She leans against the light post, arms crossed as she looks down at Clark. The look on her face would have terrified Clark nine months ago. But now…now it's one more reminder that she believed in him and did so much to get him home.
When the light changes, Clark quickly starts crossing, leaving Astrid behind him as he mutters to himself, shaking his head, "Stupid, so stupid to be feeling this way." He hears Astrid taking quick steps to catch up to his side and when he looks over at her, he can feel his eyes prickling with unnecessary tears. "I'm sorry I'm being stubborn and stressed about this stupid Quell twist. I don't know why you still even care or stick around me…"
"You can be as stubborn as you want," Astrid starts as they finally pass through the gates into the Victor's Village and Clark lets out a sigh of relief that they are away from the constant stares. He pulls down his hood, shaking out his hair that he refuses to get cut. "But I'm not abandoning you. You should have known before you even left that arena that I wouldn't abandon you. You and Velour are practically my brothers now. Speaking of," Astrid pauses to look down at Clark, putting a hand on his shoulder to stop him from continuing to walk to his house. "A few of us are watching the announcement together at Barathea's house. I waited for you after class because I want you to join us."
"I can handle watching it alone," Clark lets out a huff, a little annoyed at the thought that she's babying him. But deep down, he is grateful at the concern for him in her eyes that she can't hide. "Not that I would really be alone. I have Bjark."
"I know," Astrid answers and smiles at him, a genuine, proud smile, that pushes away any hesitation Clark had at joining her and the others. "But I don't want you to be alone."
Clark takes a long look over at his house, knowing he could go there and just be alone. He could be alone and let out all the pent up rage and sadness without anyone around to judge him when he sees the Quell twist and gets another terrible reminder that he has to start mentoring tributes and try not to get attached. Try not to become friends with them and then be even more broken every time one of them dies.
But he lets out a sigh and turns back to Astrid, trying to smile at her and failing. "Fine, but only for the announcement. Then I'm going home and finishing up my assignment due tomorrow."
Astrid gives him a knowing smile before starting to walk towards Barathea's house, leaving Clark to walk quickly to catch up with her. As they approach the door, he hesitates, still unsure about being around the victors that are so much older than him. Velour…he has gotten along with very well, thanks to their closer age. But Barathea? She's old enough to be his mother and has been a better mother than his own.
"Clark," Astrid says cautiously as she stands with her hand on the doorknob, staring back at him.
"I know, I know," Clark tells her before taking the few steps up the porch. He sighs loudly when Astrid opens the door and he's met first with a bunch of dogs running at him. He sets his bag down carefully as he crouches down, wrapping his arms around his very large dog and letting Bjark lick his face, immediately feeling comforted by his friend. "Hey boy, were you good today?" Right behind Bjark are four little corgi puppies that make the smile on his face only grow. But then he's met with a variety of smells from Barathea cooking dinner. "I'm not leaving early, am I?"
"Absolutely not," Astrid answers happily and Clark lets out a big sigh as he picks up his bag and starts walking into the house, followed closely by the dogs. Astrid follows Clark inside the house, seemingly unbothered by the announcement happening shortly. "You can work on the assignment here. Hey Barathea!"
The older, even more intimidating woman pops her head around the corner of the kitchen, grinning when she sees Astrid and Clark there. "Hi guys! I'm just throwing the chicken in the oven but everyone is in the living room. I'll be there in a minute."
"You only have a minute!" An older man calls from the living room as Astrid puts a hand on Clark's back, leading the younger boy over there. When they enter the room, Hessian tries to give Clark a reassuring smile that Clark tentatively returns. He's still not used to seeing the victor of the 100th Games so often.
"Hi," Clark says timidly, clutching his bag tightly and just feeling out of place as Astrid sits on a couch next to Hessian. Barathea walks in, carrying a tray of glasses of water before taking a spot near the older victors. Why did they even invite him? He's so out of place here.
"Hey Clark," a tired, quiet voice says from behind him. Clark glances over his shoulder, feeling a little relieved to see Velour standing there. "Come on, I'm sitting over here." Clark nods his head, letting the victor lead him over to a couch. When Velour sits down, he scoops up Boots from the floor and places her on his lap before pointing at her puppies. "Sit," he commands and they all listen to him, immediately sitting at his feet. Clark shakes his head at how well they behave for him before he hesitantly sits down, gently setting his bag down at his feet. Bjark jumps up immediately, piling onto his lap even though he's way too big to sit on his lap. "How are you holding up?" Velour asks quietly so the older victors don't hear.
Clark looks over at Velour as the screen switches away from the Capitol seal to show the President, bringing with it a rush of anxiety at what he's about to say. He'd been doing well lately, but the approaching announcement has backtracked all that progress. "I'm not."
"Me too," Velour whispers to him as they turn their gaze to the screen.
Astrid reaches over to grab on to Clark's hand as President Xavier clears his throat. Clark almost pulls his hand away, before gripping it tightly in fear. He closes his eyes, not ready to hear whatever cruel twist they're going to put the tributes through. The very first tributes he has to mentor as a victor.
"For the Sixth Quarter Quell," the President starts slowly and Clark opens his eyes when he hears Velour's breathing get uneven next to him. He holds out his free hand hesitantly to the older boy, almost expecting him to reject the offer. But Velour takes it, giving Clark a small but thankful smile that makes Clark feel unworthy of Velour's gratefulness.
"To remind the District that their survival depends on the Capitol like a person depends on their senses," the President continues, drawing Clark's attention back to the screen as confusion starts to build in him at where he's going with this Quell twist. "Each tribute will lose one of their five senses in the arena."
The five victors all sit in silence as the Capitol crowd cheers for this twist. Clark is left staring at the screen, the twist slowly sinking in. Lose a sense? "They can't?" He asks in confusion, turning to glance over at the older victors. Those that have seen a Quell before or even won one. "Does he really mean?"
"Yes," Hessian says quietly, voice full of pain as he closes his eyes. Barathea puts a hand on his shoulder, trying to bring him back from the memories of his own Quell. "Somehow, the Capitol is going to take away their senses."
Clark stares blankly at Hessian, still trying to grasp just what this will mean for the tributes they're mentoring. Slowly, his own games memories start creeping in, no matter how hard he tries to keep them locked away. He competed against a blind tribute. He watched in the games recap how she struggled through the arena on her own. She struggled in the arena and she lived her whole life blind.
Clark tries to imagine what it would be like to be blind in the arena or unable to hear. But the thought is so terrible that he finds himself starting to hyperventilate at how terrible it would be, unable to know who is around you, constantly in fear of the other tributes.
"Clark!"
The shout of his name makes him blink a few times, slowly focusing on the face in front of him. He hadn't even noticed Astrid moving in front of him, watching him carefully with wide eyes. "Clark! It's going to be okay. You're not doing this alone."
"But the twist," Clark whispers, his voice shaking in fear of what's to come. "It's terrible. How can they do that?"
"Clark," Astrid says once more, grabbing on to his face to keep him focused on her. "Whatever they do to our tributes, we're going to do our damn best to help them. And just remember, this could have been way worse."
Worse than losing one of his senses? He hesitantly looks over at Hessian, the Quell victor still staring at the screen and with tears silently running down his face. Astrid is right…it could be much worse. Hessian is proof of that…
But that doesn't stop Clark from feeling completely unprepared for this.
AYYY LET'S GET THIS HYPE PARTY STARTED! Alright, I've been so freaking excited for MONTHS now to post this story and reveal the Quarter Quell twist! So yes, for the Sixth Quarter Quell, each tribute is going to lose either their sense of sight, hearing, touch, taste, or smell! Now you might be thinking 'smell or taste wouldn't be that bad'. Oh just wait lol, I have big plans for the arena.
Anyways, this is going to be another full SYOT so I really hope you'll want to submit to this story! Submission info is up on my profile! I'm using the same system I did for Overlooked: I have a limited number of submissions for each spot and I'll allow reservations for submission spots! Submissions will be open for four weeks so on June 22nd, I'll post the last prologue containing the tribute list! There will be at least one prologue in the mean time, just to keep getting you hyped for this!
For those of you that read Overlooked, you know at times my updates slow to maybe once a month. It's going to be the same for this once summer is over so if that isn't your cup of tea, sorry lol, can't change how chaotic my life is.
So of course, I'd love to hear your thoughts on the Quell twist! And of course, we got to see a glimpse of our favorite new victor!
I'm really looking forward to this story and I can't wait to see what crazy tributes you send in!