Ok I know I said 12/15 as upload day, but it's Friday the 13th! I couldn't resist :)
Hello and welcome to the 77th Hunger Games - The Damned!
To any of you who read the 76th Games, welcome back! To any newcomers, a brief intro! I'm Dante Alighieri1308! Don't worry, you don't have to have read the 76th Games to read this story (it's not one of those stories... but if you want to read then go ahead and do so because I spent a year on it and I'm very proud of how it turned out! Even though Fanfic Admin deleted it at one point... still a sore spot...)
Enjoy the story! If you don't like then I'm sorry but there are plenty of other HG stories for you to enjoy :)
If you do enjoy then YEAH! Review/Subscribe/Enjoy the story!
I DO NOT OWN THE HUNGER GAMES. ALL CREDIT GOES TO SUZANNE COLLINS. ANY CHARACTERS OR LOCATIONS OR PLOT LINES NOT FEATURED IN SUZANNE COLLINS STORY BELONG TO ME. ANY TRIBUTES SUBMITTED BY OTHER AUTHORS AND/OR REVIEWERS BELONG TO THEM AND WILL BE CREDITED.
Prologue: The New Head Shepard
The Capitol
He had only been with Caesar Flickerman for a minute, but already Plutarch Heavensbee liked him even less than before.
He was only here on Caesar's stage for apperances. It was required for all new Head Gamemakers to make a public appearance before their first Hunger Games. Some said it was to increase hype for the Games and jump start a Head Gamemaker's career, but Plutarch always figured it was for the Capitol to have a face to put their hatred too if they didn't like the yearly Games.
"As always, it's an extraordinary pleasure to have a Head Gamemaker on the show!" Caesar began happily.
Plutarch smiled, disguising his annoyance with Caesar's oddly pitched tone. Plutarch was, as usual, dressed rather plainly for a Capitolite. Especially in comparison to Caesar, who had once again changed his look for the Games. He had settled on an all purple look, contrasting with the Capitol's continued fashion statement of green and forest themes. He claimed that purple was more of a neutral look, but everyone knew that purple, the color of royalty, was usually associated with District 1. And everyone also knew that Caesar had a soft spot for that District.
"I must confess, Caesar," Plutarch began with a sly smile. "I feel like a tribute off to fight in the arena!"
"Oh ho!" Caesar laughed, along with his smaller studio audience. "Well we certainly don't want to give that impression!"
"Too late!" Plutarch replied.
The audience laughed once more as Caesar took control of the situation to make a point. "We could never consider you a tribute, Mr. Heavensbee. But in a way, couldn't you be?"
Plutarch looked comically perplexed and the audience chuckled. "Well, now I am concerned." Plutarch responded. "You aren't about to cart me off to the arena, are you, Caesar?"
"Oh dear no!" Caesar laughed. "I only meant to imply that being Head Gamemaker is no walk in the park. And speaking of parks and outdoor areas... would you mind telling us what the arena is this year?"
Caesar sat forward, looking expectantly at Plutarch. The audience laughed on cue, the trained parrots they were, and Plutarch laughed with them. Before he could respond, Caesar threw up his hands in surrender. "I kid, of course." he conceded.
Plutarch smiled, happy he didn't have to give his overused, coy response to that question. Today he wasn't particularly his most 'charming' since the somber, serious, and sarcastic angle was a good one to showcase. Even though he didn't elaborate on it, Caesar had hit the nail on the head when he said being Head Gamemaker was like being a tribute. They had to put on shows for the Capitol, had to be careful of every move they made, and always had the threat of death looming around them.
And just like tributes, Head Gamemakers were supposed to have an angle for the Capitol; Defining character traits that could give the audience a sense of what kind of arenas they would create. Most of the early Head Gamemakers were raging demons, promising fire and brimstone treatment of the tributes as the memory of the Dark Days was still fresh. Those times had long since past though, as most Head Gamemakers tried to appeal to the Capitol social scene, creating arenas for tourism or directly pandering to the desires of the Capitol's elite. Some even tried to get involved into the volatile game of Capitol politics. Seneca hadn't been like that, preferring to take a more 'family friendly' angle to his Games.
At least, however 'friendly' the Games could be.
Thinking of Seneca didn't do Plutarch any good for his mood, so he focused his attention back to the interview.
"I'm just as glad as you are that the games are upon us." Plutarch remarked. "Soon, everyone will be able to enjoy our labor of love."
"Fair enough," Caesar admitted. "But I'd be out of the job if I wasn't pushy. So I'm going to have to ask you - nay, beg you - to give us some sort of information!"
The audience was with Caesar, demanding hints of the arena. Plutarch sighed, the impatience of the Capitol never lost on him. The Games were a week away, they could easily wait a little longer.
"Well... I'll say this at least." Plutarch began, shaking his head when he saw everyone, even the cameramen, lean in closer. "The arena is in a inhospitable place."
Caesar was clearly disappointed with that answer, but did his best to hide that. "Now, now Plutarch. I don't think my in-laws would approve of tributes dying in their mansion!"
Raucous laughter erupted in the studio at Caesar's cheap and corny joke. Plutarch joined in, appealing to the Capitolites. The interview continued for a while, mainly with of questions about Plutarch's background and his previous work with the Games. The Capitol was very happy to hear he played an active part in last year's Games, which had given the Capitol its most popular Victor in years.
The interview wrapped up with one important question. "You can impress the Capitol all you want, Plutarch, but there's one person above all you've got to appease. Do you think our esteemed President will approve of the Games?"
Plutarch took a moment to ponder, though he already had rehearsed an answer for the question. It was a delicate question, he couldn't be overly proud as the President wouldn't like a grandiose Head Gamemaker, and he couldn't be too humble as the Capitolites wouldn't like a weak willed one.
"I would like to think that the President will enjoy the Games this year, as I hope all of Panem will. If not, then I am at the mercy of the Capitol and the President. But, I will say that is very unlikely."
Caesar, happy with the answer, ended the interview on a high note. The audience cheered for the two men and before the camera's shut off, Caesar shouted out one final instruction. "And don't forget to tune in tomorrow at ten for the Reapings, live! Happy Hunger Games!"
The cameras shut off and the lights lifted in the studio. Plutarch and Caesar exchanged a few more words before the former dismissed himself to return to the Gamemaker center. Working his way through the masses of new fans, Plutarch finally made it to his limo where his personal Avox held the door open for him.
"Thank you." He muttered to her, sliding over in his seat so she could sit next to him.
Madge Undersee nodded silently.
Plutarch was still not thrilled about Madge serving him so openly. Nor did he like the idea of Avox's at all, even if Madge had demanded she be made his Personal. Spending all day in his apartment had become a bore for her. District 13 wasn't able to provide extraction yet, claiming it was too risky, so she wanted to make herself useful. Plutarch had finally conceded to the girl's demands, though requested that she change her appearance once more to avoid the watchful eye of Snow. Madge's new face was simple yet fair, her most defining trait being her bright red hair, which matched her red Avox clothing.
He had warned her about... incidents that might occur with her. Men and women would most certainly abuse her when Plutarch wasn't looking and there was always the threat of Snow finding her. But Madge didn't seem to care. From her standpoint, Plutarch was serving the rebellion and she was willing to help him in anyway she could. Even if that meant reducing herself to Avox status.
They arrived at the Gamemaker center, swarmed by reporters when they stepped out of the limo. Peacekeepers, dressed in their formal attire of white and gold, broke them up and made a line for Plutarch and Madge to walk through, all the reporters ravenous for a story. Plutarch smiled and waved to them politely while Madge kept her head down like a good Avox.
Once inside though, things didn't immediately improve. Plutarch was then attacked by other Gamemakers, catching him up to speed on everything he missed while with Caesar.
'The new training center has been completed...'
'Forecasts have just come in for the next month... looks good for the arena...'
'The terraforming blocks have been removed from the arena...'
'Slight delay with Peacekeeper deployment in District 8...'
'District 2's mayor is demanding a teleconference... something about bad press...'
Plutarch addressed as many issues as he could, though most of them he redirected to various department heads. Upon entering his office, he wasn't surprised to find Dr. Lucretia Novella awaiting him, her purple hair still as puff as ever.
"Dr. Novella," Plutarch said pleasantly. "Sneaking into my office when I'm not around? That isn't very polite."
She smiled at him pleasantly. "I'll risk it. Better that standing with the rest of those fools."
"Those fools are your co-workers."
"That doesn't mean I have to like them." she shot back.
Plutarch gave her a knowing smile, "Would you like a drink?" he asked, signaling to Madge to begin pouring them something.
"Not today." Dr. Novella declined. "I just stopped by to report to you on our... issue."
Plutarch's posture tightened, his mind knowing what she was going to say. "The Tournament Games." He muttered, taking a seat at his desk.
Dr. Novella nodded her head. "We've received another report, this one taking place in the Agrippa household."
Plutarch sighed, annoyed with the Capitol's bloodlust. It had recently come to his attention that some Capitolites were hosting their very own Games in their homes, titling them the 'Tournament Games'. They were fought by Careers who failed to enter the Games and were sold by their District leaders to Capitolite households to fight for a small crowd's amusement. The festival had gained the name 'Tournament" as there were usually six or eight fighters who fought one on one battles with each other until only one remained.
It was another disgusting example of Capitol bloodlust, but most failed Careers didn't see that. They didn't even care they were being sold like property. Fighting was all they knew how to do and the alternatives of becoming a Peacekeeper, mentor, or plain citizen didn't appeal to eighteen year olds who had been told for years they were special and bound for glory.
"I'll talk to the President about it." Plutarch said, "I doubt he'd like it."
"I'm sure he already knows." Dr. Novella muttered, a tone of blame detectable in her voice.
Plutarch, outwardly loyal servant of the President, gave Dr. Novella a look. "And I'm sure he'll do something about it."
"I don't need to tell you what these Tournament Games could do to us Gamemakers, do I?" Dr. Novella chided.
"Do you think I'm that much of a fool?" Plutarch growled.
Dr. Novella visibly recoiled, realizing she had forgotten her place. "Of course not, sir." She quickly corrected.
"Good." Plutarch said, speaking lighter. "Now, I'm assuming you've also come to talk about our pet, the Leviathan." Plutarch said, sitting down behind his desk.
"Yes, sir." Dr. Novella answered, her tone adjusting for their crowning jewel of a mutation. "The Wests have done a remarkable job with it, currently adding the final touches right now. It should be complete by the time the Games start."
"The Wests and Dr. Sinclair." Plutarch corrected, silently amused at the childish grudge between the two doctors.
Dr. Novella shrugged. "I suppose. Though the Wests are worth twenty of Dr. Sinclair if you ask me."
"I was told we have you to thank for bringing them back into the fold." Plutarch remarked casually.
Dr. Novella's eyes narrowed, "Yes, they understood it was in their daughter's best interest to keep working."
"Of course they did." Plutarch said, sickened by the threat delivered to the suffering family. The Capitol had already taken two of the West's daughters, Genevieve with poison and Isabella in the Games last year, and with only Elise left... well they were only too easy to control.
"Anything else?" Plutarch asked.
"Not for now, but there will probably be more in the days to come."
"There always is. Let's just hope we don't have any incidents like last year."
"I doubt we will, sir." Dr. Novella comforted. With a respectful nod, Dr. Novella turned and left Plutarch's office, the automatic doors swooshing closed behind her. As soon as she left, Plutarch clicked a button under his desk, sealing the office from all would be eavesdroppers. A small EMP was also emitted, knocking out any electrical items that weren't on Plutarch's desk or near the holographic television.
"I know what you think." Plutarch said, looking at Madge. "But this needs to happen. It's a necessary evil for a greater good."
Madge, incapable of speech, merely nodded her head and looked away. Plutarch sighed, knowing that his words meant little to the young rebel. Twenty-four children would still be taken from their homes and only one would live. How many times would it have to happen before Plutarch's dream of a hero Victor emerged?
It was his greatest hope, a hope that most of his fellow rebels considered impractical. Plutarch desired a Victor who was different than the rest, one who stood a rebel to the Capitol and its ideology instead of being consumed by it. A Victor who could appeal to all the Districts, to show and rally them in revolution. Plutarch hoped that now he could influence the Games into giving Panem one of those Victors.
'Please...' Plutarch silently wished. 'Let a leader rise above the rest. Let a symbol rise from this horror and spark a revolution...'
It was silent prayer that Plutarch feared would not be answered. Panem wasn't that kind of nation. All Plutarch could keep doing was hope for it to happen. But hope was a fickle commodity and never appeared until it was far too late.
Plutarch looked to his television set where Caesar and Claudius Templesmith were blabbering on about the Games. Unlike him, they prayed for tributes who thrived in the chaos of combat, for tributes who would fight and die in spectacular ways, for tributes who would remind the Districts of the Capitol's might.
And Plutarch was all too afraid they would get just that.
Tributes of the 77th Hunger Games
Happy Hunger Games! And May the Odds Be Ever in Their Favor!
District 1 (Luxury)
M: Chancellor "Chance" Mallerion (18)
F: Kyrstal Avery (17)
District 2 (Masonry/Military)
M: Griffin Waring (18)
F: Sky Carroll (18)
District 3 (Technology)
M: Watt Dresner (15)
F: Amélie Jeanne Sinclair (16)
District 4 (Fishing)
M: Ansel Gephardt (18)
F: Brielle Purslane (16)
District 5 (Power)
M: Fuze DeLumiere (15)
F: Jory Edmonds (15)
District 6 (Transportation/Medicine)
M: Trenton "Trent" Bell (14)
F: Flux Arello (16)
District 7 (Lumber)
M: Bruce Spruce (18)
F: Ayla Thorne (16)
District 8 (Textiles)
M: Twill Zephyr (16)
F: Tassel LaBowe (15)
District 9 (Grain)
M: Dagan Hollis (17)
F: Aylin Henrickson (15)
District 10 (Livestock)
M: Sterling Taylor (17)
F: Clarimonde "Clair" Amberson (14)
District 11 (Agriculture)
M: Haspen Latron (18)
F: Luna Shade (12)
District 12 (Coal/Mining)
M: Rufus Ventra (15)
F: Aileen Whittaker (16)
Ahhh... it's good to be back! I've missed the morally bankrupted world that is Panem!
So there's the prologue! All tribute positions have been filled so if you're interested, please review/subscribe and keep on reading :) Enjoy the story!