Hi all new readers and loyal readers! I am ElizaBell3, writer extraordinaire (in a way). I was thinking this would be a normal fan fiction, but then *Ding* I had an idea. Hunger Games+ Alchemists=EPIC STORY! Please enjoy!
"Iris, this is the third time this week! Are you ever going to get over it? She's dead, okay? Dead!" My father was never the nicest, but he's been especially cruel ever since mother died last week due to a police accident. It wasn't her fault for dying, but I often felt like it's my fault for not warning her that there was a riot going on down town.
I am Iris Malbore, dirty blonde hair and blue eyes. My family: Father, little sister Alee, and myself, live in district 9 of Panem. We are the grain district, and most of us don't care for training for the Hunger Games, unless of course someone we know is drawn to leave. Speaking of, the tribute drawing is tomorrow. Most of the time, a random child is reaped, so I don't bother watching the updates on television. Because Mother has passed away, I will be added extra times for tesserae. Therefore, I am entered twenty times, so I am very unlikely to be drawn. About a 5% chance, I would say.
There's also a special skill some of us District 9 folk have acquired. It's Alchemy- the science of equal exchange- giving up something to earn something of equal value. My mother taught me the basics of alchemy when she was still alive. Not a single alchemist has been drawn in the Hunger Games, but you never know. Maybe this year will be different.
That night, I sleep with ease, knowing life would presume as always. Or at least, that's what I thought….
The day came, and father dressed my sister and me in dresses. I'm wearing one of mother's old dresses, a slightly sun-bleached light purple dress, a white shirt underneath, white socks and black shoes.
"You look beautiful, Iris," Alee comments, smiling up at me. I lean down and hug her. She's 11, so she can't be reaped yet, and I'm so thankful for that.
"I'll be off, then," I say, taking the door knob in my hand. My father is gripping Alee's shoulder in worry.
"Good luck, honey," He mutters, and it's odd how he's so sincere with his words.
I turn the handle and leave our small one story home. I head out to the town square, where shops are mainly located. I pass by a family friend before the ceremony.
Most of the houses in district 9 are thatched cottages, but none are like Uncle Kive's. He has a unique home with smooth walls and a tiled roof, none like anyone had ever seen. That's one reason why he gets so many costumers. He's not really our Uncle, but he feels like one without a doubt. Uncle Kive sells daily utensils such as barley, wine, and meat.
"Hello, dear! You'll be late for the reapin' doll, and then you'll be dead for sure, aye?" He chuckles, spit-cleaning a shot glass to my utter disgust.
"I'm just passing by, Kives!" I laugh, "And I'm sure I won't be plucked from the glass this year."
"You never know, darling. You never know," Uncle sighs, "You best be off."
"Thanks for everything, Uncle!" I continue, and walk out of the store.
I gather with the other 13 year olds, and I hear rumors a boy will be killed for not coming. That's a rare occurrence, especially around these parts. I can't help but wonder whom they speak of. Suddenly, a woman that stands out more than Uncle Kive's house walks on stage smiling. Her name is Effie Trinket, the lady that picks out the ones almost certain for death. This year she has aqua hair and a bright blue green dress that has lots of unneeded cloth.
"Happy Hunger Games! And may the odds be ever in your favor!" She chirps happily. Everyone is focusing on Effie now.
"Ladies First!" She says. Then Effie click-clacks in her sparkly high heels over to the glass bowl on the left side of the stage. She swirls her hand around tauntingly, making some in the crowd stir.
"Ah, let's see… the lucky girl is… Iris Malbore! Please step up to the stage!"
I can't breathe. My peripheral vision is blackened, and my head spins. Some girls behind me start shoving me forcefully onto the stage, and I shift back to reality. I start walking, knees wobbling, up onto the platform. All eyes are on me. I have a terrible fear of crowds, and I want to throw up.
Effie ignores me and trots over to the boy glass.
"Let's continue! The lucky boy is… Amaranth Grant! Please come up here!"
Amaranth…I don't think I've met him before. Disturbing my thoughts, a broad-shouldered boy walks up to the stage. I might've seen him somewhere. I'll remember soon enough. He has neat black hair, a slightly tanned body, and noticeable bright green eyes. He stares at me, and my face gets unusually hot.
"Well, give these tributes a round of applause!" Effie concludes.
I see poor Alee in the crowd, along with Father, looking very pained. A group of Peacekeepers herd the two of us into the Justice Building. I'm pushed into solitude, and I wait calmly on a soft couch. Here I'll say my last good-byes to my loved ones.
Alee jumps onto me, hugging me tightly. I wrap my arms around her slowly. This may be our last time together. Father walks up to me and puts a hand on my shoulder.
"Good luck, Iris," He says, and with that, he was gone. He was never one for good-byes. Uncle Kive walks in and chuckles, "Not gonna be plucked from the glass, huh?" He holds a black laced necklace up to show me. It has a long piece of chalk on the end. Does he want me to use that for drawing a transmutation circle?
"Use this, Iris. I know you can do it. Just prey it'll be solid ground," He says, handing the jewelry to me. I clasp it in my hand. I know what he means by solid ground. We can't draw transmutation circles with chalk on sand or mud. We need solid ground to perform alchemy.
"Thanks, Kives," I sigh, putting the lace around my neck.
He nods solemnly and leaves. Alee still grasps me.
"I love you, Alee, but I think it's time for you to leave," I say, and she looks up at my face.
"Bye sis," she whimpers, and sprints out of the room, chasing after Father in a hurry.
I look down at my chalk. Let's hope it doesn't rain too much in the arena.
"Eh hem," a voice says, and I look up quickly. It's a Peacekeeper. It's odd that he would speak- I have barely heard them speak.
The train ride is smooth- quicker than the small wagon we have back in the fields, not to mention nicer and air-conditioned. It even seems rather cold.
The outside world is moving fast, almost hypnotizing me. The window is the only thing that separates my hand from reaching out to touch the flying wind.
"It's nice, eh?" a voice says from behind. It's Amaranth. He's not looking at me directly, but staring out the window.
"Have I met you before…I mean before the reaping?" I wonder, causing him to look at me in the eyes.
"Indeed we have, Iris, don't you remember?" he says, sitting across from me on a parallel sofa.
"I don't recall…" I sigh, and he smirks. What's he thinking?
"Your mother taught us—" he starts, and points to the chalk.
"Let's not say it aloud… I mean to give away our little secret," I suggest.
"Agreed. How about Wisteria?"
"Wisteria? Like that tree with those beautiful flowers?"
"It's my favorite tree to say the least"
"Okay, then. Wisteria forever and always, then."
"Forever and always, huh? Okay, well, my father gave me some chalk, too. We'll change Hunger Games history, eh?"
"I'm surprised two of us got in this year."
"Pretty weird indeed. We better only use it when necessary."
Footsteps click outside of the train cabin.
"'Ello, 'ello!" says a woman with long legs, black hair, green eyes, and small smile. She must be our mentor…
"Who are you?" Amaranth wonders, clueless.
"I, Yasu Sato, am your mentor!" She exclaims, a little too energetic.
"Oh, okay. I wasn't expecting the only female victor to be our mentor… what about that guy, Christmas?" I comment, making Yasu a little hot tempered.
"You mean you don't think I'm good enough to be your mentor? Being sexist? I'm strong! I swear!" She defends herself, "and also, Christmas kicked the bucket last week." That last part she said in a whisper.
"Yeah, Iris! Don't be so mean! She was smart enough to stay alive!" Amaranth butts in.
"It looks like someone has a crush, Amaranth!" I point out, and he yells, blushing.
"I'll kill you!"
"Hey now, calm down you two! I'm flattered, Amaranth, but I'm married," Yasu giggles, showing her index finger with a planted diamond.
With all that noise we barely noticed someone walking up.
"Well, it's good to know all is well here! It's time for dinner, everyone!" the one and only Effie Trinket interrupts.
We all cool down and walk down to the dinner cab on the train. The room was almost as wonderful as the food. Almost.
The food's flavor exploded in your mouth compared to the bitter, flavorless, and stale food we lived with back in district 9. Like a painting, it had different mediums. Fresh sauce made of tomatoes, noodles from grain, meatballs from beef, and garlic from a plant. They call it spaghetti.
"Really? You've never had noodles and garlic bread before?" Yasu wonders. She's a filthy rich victor, of course she doesn't know about the underbelly of district 9. I am simply a pointless tick on that underbelly.
"I've had noodles on rare occasions. But I've never had meatballs or this garlic bread. Garlic bread is delicious, by the way. Do you happen to have more of it?" I explain, and the rich folk at the table look amazed. It is going to be a long train ride.
Author's Note: Thanks for reading! I'll update again by probably next Sunday/Monday (that being June 2-3 2012). Yasu, by the way, means 'peace'. My friend, Hikari (the real one, not from Hikari and Aki), hates crossovers, but in this story, you can just look up 'alchemy' and know what it is to understand the transmutation circles, etc. I was looking for an idea to add a plot twist to the arena/ the characters, and I thought up 'it would be epic if district 9 was alchemy' and BING! Alchemists in the arena- genius- especially if no one, but a few, knew what alchemy was. Sorry for the long note, but I enjoy typing a lot…
Also, if you read my stories, there is something interesting about them in common. I'll read and review some of your stories if you get it right in review below. If your username is a cool name, I may use it as a tribute's name. Thanks again for reading! I love all of you, my friends!
-PeacE out!