Hi guys~! It's been a while, you miss me? ;D I'm only kidding. But, I have missed you guys! After about a year and a half, I really wanted to come on here and post more stuff, but I couldn't for sooooooo many reasons. Just to give you a quick update, I've started high school now, and part of our 9th grade experience is that we need to do all kinds of book reports. That's good, it means I've been reading a lot, which means that I have tons of fanfiction to write! The most recent one was The Hunger Games which doesn't belong to me, by the way, it belongs to Suzanne Collins, and I absolutely loved it. I immediately read the second one, and now I'm starting the third, too. My friend, who read it with me, gave me this idea, and it's my first interactive type of fic, which I'm both excited and a little scared for, but here goes nothing!
Here's how this will work; imagine that you are a citizen in the Capitol, which means you are excluded from the Games and watching them at home. It is the year of the 71st Hunger Games, three years before Katniss Everdeen. Here's the twist: you don't have to just sit back and watch as whichever tribute you may root for dies. As with all of the other citizens, you have the ability to sponsor your picks.
A loaf of bread from your district of choice costs 3$.
A jug of water costs 3$.
A piece of meat costs 5$.
Any common hygiene product costs 5$.
A vial of any common pharmacy medicine costs 8$.
Any type of clothing (1 article) costs 8$.
Any common medical dressings cost 10$.
Any type of camping gear (1 article; tent, flashlight, sleeping bag, lighter, etc.) costs 10$.
Common tools (hammers, nails, saws, etc., pretty much whatever you could find in Home Depot, Loews, any home renovation stores) cost 12$.
Weapons (no firearms or explosives; things like axes, bow and arrows, knives, spears, etc.) cost 20$.
Now, obviously I'm not asking you guys for real money. They way that you pay to sponsor someone goes like this: favoriting this story is worth 5$. Favoriting me as an author is worth 7$. Subscribing to alerts for this story is worth 5$. Subscribing to alerts for me as an author is worth 7$. Reviews are each worth 3$. If you review a story more than twice per chapter, only two will be counted. Also, you obviously can't send them things before the games begin. If you do any of these before they are in the arena, you will be able to use them later, kind of like credits.
I'm hoping that this will work and that it won't just be an utter failure. I need your participation! Remember, only you can help your favorite tributes win!
Aside from that, this is also my first many-chapter fic, and my first fic where I use OC's. I tried my hardest not to make any of them Mary Sues, and if you think someone is, you can tell me. Also, they probably won't get a lot of sponsors, which will probably get them killed of pretty fast. I researched the books A LOT to try to make this as accurate as possible, but no one's perfect. If I missed something, or got something wrong, please feel free to correct me!
Also, I don't know the districts' policies for naming, nor do I have a list of common names for each district, so I literally just used a random name generator.
And if you read this whole thing, thank you. Without further ado, here's the first chapter. Enjoy!
"Hello, and welcome," cheered Christoper Ceniceros, the escort of District 1, "to the 71st Annual Hunger Games!"
The crowd roared with excitement. He smiled, letting them cheer for a minute, then raised his hands in an attempt to calm them. It only half worked; there was still a constant hum of noise from the crowd, but it was just low enough that you could still hear Christoper with his microphone. "I know that you are all eager to get down to business," he said, "so I will try to make this as short as possible. I'll save the speech for last so that we can get right down to picking our tributes!" The crowd screamed, coming back to life, and he had to wait several more minutes for them to calm down enough for him to be heard.
"Let me just quickly remind you of the rules of volunteering," Christoper said, taking notice of the already increasing number of hands shooting up. Shouts could be heard of, "I volunteer!" and "I'll go! Choose me!"
"The tribute will be drawn first," Christoper told them, "and, if and only if they allow it, one candidate will be chosen to take their place." Once more the crowd became out of control. Christoper gave a chuckle and said, "I know you are all very excited! Please try to control yourselves," but no one could hear him over all of the noise.
After nearly ten more minutes, it was finally low enough for him to begin. "Now, without further ado, it is time to select our tributes!" Before the crowd could overwhelm him yet again, Christoper turned to the bowl to his right, full of boys' names, and pulled one out. "Our male tribute, Gabino Sinoff!"
The crowd was wild with mixed reactions, so wild that Christoper feared Peacekeepers might be needed to intervene. Luckily, the reactions turned much more positive when the boy climbed the stairs to the stage.
And there he was; Gabino Sinoff, tall and thick with a powerful build, a baby face, and a certain gleam in his eye. You could see just how proud he was to know that he would be representing his district. His body swung onto the stage with sturdiness and control until he stood right next to Christoper. The crowd applauded loudly, and he gave them a true, bright, award-winning smile. People were already volunteering to replace him, but at the first offer that he heard, he turned to look at the other boy, gazed straight into his eyes and, still smiling, shook his head ever so slightly.
"Now," said Christoper, "now, now. It is time… to choose… our female!" Without waiting for the chaos to settle, he plucked the name out of the bowl on his left. "Erin Franco!" he screamed.
The girl emerged, dark hair framing her young olive face, from the thirteen-year-old section. Cheers rang through District 1 like you would have never heard before.
"Let's give a warm welcome to our male tribute," said Jericho Krikorian. He pulled out the slip of paper and read the name clearly. "Burhford Quintano!" Cheers exploded through the crowd. A boy with long, jagged black hair and metal jewelry in both earlobes, both sides of his bottom lip, and the left side of the top, emerged from the crowd. His eyes were completely circled with dark black lining. His expression remained emotionless and unreadable as he took to the center of the stage with Jericho.
"And our female," Jericho went on, "Talora Marobella!" Plain, average-looking Talora climbed up the steps, smiling.
"So," asked Jericho, "are either of you willing to take volunteers?"
"No," replied Talora, still beaming.
Burhford crossed his arms over his chest. "No."
In District 3, Cheryl Garner was selecting their tributes. "For the gentlemen," she cooed. "Sterlyn Eister!" The mayor's son. He climbed up the steps, sharply dressed, his brown and blond-tipped hair gelled and his suit pressed. There was a small applause for him, along with a few gasps and murmurs, and his father faked a smile, as did Sterlyn himself.
"And as for the ladies," continued Cheryl in a sin-song voice, Aya Damp!" Aya stands up, her frizzy brown hair and freckles standing our even more so than usual. Her nose and cheeks were pink due to the cold. Again, a small round of applause.
District 5. The air was brisk as Marji Glazer stood atop the stage. Unlike the previous districts, not many of the people wanted to be there. Marji delivered his lines with enthusiasm nonetheless.
"It's time to pick our male contestant!" he beamed. Reaching into the bowl, he pulled out the slip. "Lonny Davol!" he exclaimed. A timid-looking boy with dark blond hair arose. He gave a shy smile from the stage, knowing there would be no volunteers.
"Now, time for our female tribute! Brynna Popham!" There was a slight stirring in the crowd, but no one stepped forward. "Brynna Popham!" Marji called again. Then he saw her, kissing her mother good-bye before trotting nervously up the steps.
"Fearnleah Carrigan!" proclaimed Chenelle Olauson. An older boy with piercing blue eyes walked to the stage.
Without and introduction other than the tapping of her tall heels as she walked over to the opposite bowl, Chenelle announced, "Shunnareh Shepard!" A short, thin girl with pale yellow skin, dark hair and slanted eyes arrived on the stage looking surprisingly calm. She wore a sweet smile and her dark eyes scanned the crowd as she took her place next to Fearnleah.
"Ladies first!" said Idetta Zevin in a peppy voice. It was a tradition, after all. District 7 was the only district to choose their female contestant before the male, and they continued to do it this way every year, fearing that someone might try to steal their thunder. "Hazle Zimble!" she called. Immediately the crowd groaned. "Hazle Zimble?" she called out again nervously. She was confused at the crowd's terrible reaction. A small, twelve-year-old girl with red hair and hazel eyes stepped forward, her face pale as a ghost. The crowd murmured sympathetically. Idetta had a fake smile plastered to her face, but her eyes were sad. Now she understood.
"And, the boy…" she said, a little more reserved now. "Galvin Gorton." A boy with olive skin, two long dark braids, and a metal stud in the center of his lower lip walked onto the stage.
In District 8, Milward Segura was chosen, a strong solemn boy with hard eyes and short, shaven hair, and a small patch of facial hair to match. Pam Whistler, the girl tribute, had wavy blond hair and a nice smile, but she very nearly cried as she walked onto the stage.
Awnan Papineau, a muscular eighteen-year-old boy, and Morice Custi were chosen from District 9.
"Kadison Christofferson!" A pale, skinny boy with brown hair and glasses.
"Kamora Flores!" A pretty girl with freckles and short, dirty blond hair.
Judie Davol whisked the paper out of the bowl. "Lotharing Brandin!" she called happily. A thick boy with shaggy red hair. His lips curved into a wry smile, and the ground shook when he walked.
When he had just joined Judie, she read, "Mari Grimmett!" A tiny young girl with skin color and eye shape similar to Shunnareh Shepard's walked up. Her face was stiff and her knees shook, but she kept her head high and did not look back.
Finally, Effie Trinket stood there, after making her speech that no one really cared for. "First is the boy!" She pulled the paper from the bowl. Things seemed to have gone into slow motion. In that moment, just those few little seconds between her choosing the paper and her opening it up, you could have cut the tension with a knife. It was as if everyone there, all at once, took a deep breath in all together. Then, suddenly, time was back to normal, and she read, "Graham Kubovy!"
There was no cheering, no round of applause. If you could have felt the very tangible noise in District 1, then you could have tasted the silence in District 12. Graham, a boy with dark curly hair and very little muscle, slowly climbed up the steps with heavy feet and his shoulders slumped miserably. Effie gave him a smile, but he ignored it. Effie moved on.
"And for our lovely lady contestant, we have…" There it was again. That moment of such intense silence and high emotions, as if you had just walked in on a funeral. "Coralia Repina!"
The awkward walk to the stage. The dead silence and dead expressions and the soon-to-be-dead just standing there on stage as the practically-dead-anyway watched them with dead eyes. A girl with black hair mixed with patches of yellow, a small face; this was Coralia.
"And now," said Effie, "let the 71st Hunger Games begin!"
There you are, the first chapter. Now, the reaping is done with, and we have our contestants. If you are willing to participate, please let me know! You obviously don't have to know which character you are sponsoring, because we don't really know any of them, and some of them we literally only know their names, gender, and district. I just want to know if you would be willing to play and be a sponsor in general.
To try to make this as realistic as possible, I really did do random drawings from a jar. Anything that seems odd is honestly just a coincidence. Thanks, hope you enjoyed!