A/N: Hey Guys! Thanks for reading my first story like this! Ahhhh ASDFJKL, I'm so excited! I know there are a bunch of errors, but I was just to excited to share this with you! This is one of those stories where you're input matters, leave reviews, or take part in my poll about you're favorite character's, arena ideas, or whatever else I may ask, and it'll be more likely that they will win! COOKIES (::)(::)(::)(::)
District 7 Male (Ash Lomax): Age: (16) Reaping day:
I take one last deep breath before the film starts.. "War terrible war!" It seemed to echo as I stood arms waiting, my chin held high to strain and see the stage over the fifty millionth worried teen.
I looked just to my left to see my brothers standing in the 18+ section. Tall, handsome, and built, off course they were all married off, some probably with kids of their own by now. I wouldn't really know actually, kids in 7 rarely get to know there whole family when there parents keep popping out kids purely for more tesserae. My only younger sibling Wren, was so tiny I could barely see her on my brother's shoulders. At 7 years old she knew what was going on today, but thank god she rarely spoke out about it. She used to - but ever since we lost Cliff in a Hunger Games when she was barely 4, things changed.
Her wide eye bounced from the screen to my face, and back again. I let out a puff of air that nipped at my face, our reapings were held at 5:30 in the morning so the capital wouldn't endure any power shortages, or luxury wooden hunger games themed items.
"As usual Ladies first of course," our mentor buzzed giggling happily as she fished around in the reaping bowels. Her foot high, bubble like heels made her tottered, as she brushed off her bubble like see through coat before reading.
"Hazel Horan," She called. I didn't know Hazel Horan, but I knew who ever she was, she wasn't going to make it. She practically went up there in tears, grasping nervously at her torso. No older than late 15, or early 16s she weeped.
"This one could bring great honor!" The escort cawed pecking her cheek.
"And now for the male!" I could feel my side of the barricade tense. Not me, not me, not-
"Ash Lomax," She called and I froze. That's me, that was my name. I tense my shoulders, trying to not look back as I heard Wren squeak.
"Let's give a round of applause to this years tributes," The bubble woman cheered, as mild clapping erupted and we were taken into separate rooms.
I sat on a plushy blue couch waiting for my family to come in. Waiting, for anyone to come in really. 10 minutes passed, 13, 16, 20. No one. I sighed scratching at my brow. I was good looking enough, I mean I probably was the least scared up in my year at school. I growled getting up pacing, I was built from chopping down trees, but no where near a career in size, but enough not to be completely overlooked.
Finally I hear a knock at my door, figuring it was time to board the train I started making my way over only to be hit with Wren flying at me.
"No. No. No. No. No. No!" She screamed hysterically latching onto my legs.
"Cliff went and didn't come back! They never ever come back! People die!" She moaned into my legs burying her excessive brown curls into my thighs.
"Ash you gotta come back! They all left me, Mom, and Dad-" She paused her voice cracking, "Don't like me, Y-you-" She sniffed. Dad pretty much saw kids 11-18 as tesserae banks, and 18+ as money banks to 'loan' from. Mom cared enough to feed us, tuck us in, and all that, but she was distant. With our names in there for that much tesserae, enough for Dad to bargain with, and eat- we were 3 times as likely to be picked if not more.
"Come on Wren- Mom loves you," I promised picking her underweight form up and placed her in my lap. It's not that 7 needed it as much as 10, 11, or 12, but extra tesserae will still always be in high demand at under the table meetings, and side business scams.
"Besides we have Johanna Mason now, she can help me win," I sighed into her curls as she glared up at me.
"Fine. Henna want's you home to you know," She muttered into my chest giggling a little bit. Henna was my age, she and I have been best friends since we were sectioned the same part of the logging in assignment day when we were no older then Wren. Henna was stronger the most boys my age, and you know a girl.. So that being said, she was fairly popular, while I- was not. Wren suddenly had her arms in a loose choke hold.
"I think she likes you," She whispered quietly, and I shook my head.
"Thanks for the tip off Wren," I winked kissing her cheek, and holding onto her for dear life. This may be our last time talking, and if she wanted to spend it on my non-existent, fairy tale love life she could.
Just as the door creaks open I whisper, "I love you." She shakes her tiny head, "Not as much as I love you," She starts to sniffle and a peace keeper comes in.
"Time to go," he growls picking her up, dragging her out. "Noooooooo," she whines as I look away. She didn't need to see me like this, worried, broken, no one should. I-
"Next, you have 5 minutes," The gruff voice shoves in a figure a few inches shorter then me. A small smile has lighten up her face, her eyes a bit red rimmed as she walked over.
"You've done it now Ash," Henna laughs, but I can hear the thickness in her voice. Her usually tied back hair was loose and frizzy like she ran her fingers over it in worry a few too many times. Henna punches me in the shoulder, but immediately changes her mind and wraps her arms around my neck, in a similar way to Wren.
"Look Johanna can help you, she's seen us around town before she won. Just prove you're worth it... Like me and Wren know you are okay?" She loosens her grip blushing and side stepping to look me in the eyes.
"Give it your best shot axe men," She jokes.
"Only if you root me on, Muscles," I wink, and she sighs.
"Just.. try," She sighs, and as the door swings open once again, I feel her lips brush my cheek.
"Try," She calls as a peacekeeper tugs her out.
"That's the last of em', time to get out," The man hissed at me, dragging me out.
The train shoves off and I look outside one last time, at the dwindlings pines, and oaks of home. "I'm gonna miss the forest," Hazel mutters walking up next to me.
"I'm not," I grumble, because it's the truth the forest held nothing for me, it was all in the people I've spent time with there.
District 4 Female: (Aril Newell) (*said air- le) Age: (12) Reaping Day:
I was still half asleep by the time I was set in front of the mirror, my hair tied in tiny pink ribbon, left from my sister's first few reapings.
"You look adorable Aril," My sister whispers tightening the baby pastel pink bows.
"Thanks," I mutter looking down, my hands clasped tightly together to keep from shaking.
"I was excited too, don't worry. Just think they might show you on TV, for the whole capital! I mean I know it's too late to do the little bits of training we have here, but you can attend combat seminars if you're shown on TV," Ambra gushes. At 17 it's going to be her last reaping this year. Technically in District 4 we aren't careers 'cause we don't have full time training, but only school hours, during the school year. Though Ambra trained since she was 6, and would volunteer this year.
Most years we have at least 1 volunteer, but the thing is it's seen as weak to volunteer for a classmate you deem as worthy, a friend, or a family member, so some years we're stuck being "honorable" and someone who should not go into the games does. And probably more often than not, you're a friend with the person picked anyway, so you wouldn't dare go up then. I stiffen, as she looks over her already perfect silk gown.
Mine was small and went to the floor, tight at the top, as it puffed out at the waast giving it the most 'classic, and vintage' look. It was all a grey color after fading from it's orignal light black from Ambra's reaping, and my Mom's before that. It actually had a matching baby pink ribbon around it's waste. Simple, and classic.
"It's time," My Mom smiled at us. I could see how proud she was, but behind it I could see how pale she was, how scared for Ambra. My Dad got up Stiffly before patting my head awkwardly, and smirking out at the crowd of people. Suddenly everything blurred around, and before I know it I was shoved up to the 12 year olds, and watching a video on our nations history.
Most families don't need tesserae with less than 5 people in them, but if you do, you get it in secret at night. Me, and Ambra have both gotten it, her once every 4 months. You were allowed to monthly, but Mom thought to be too extreme. So I have my name in there 4 times as of now. Just four, only four, I chanted in my head.
"Ladies bowl first," Our escort Christin chirped and snagged a paper. I whipped my head around to see Ambra. Tall and proud she stood waiting to try and bring us as something as silly as honor.
She coughed and called a name, my ears full of cotton as I waited my sister to volunteer, but she never did. Her jaw locking as she turned to glare at me, a mixture between bitterness, and pity.
"I said Aril Newell," She smiled as everyone turned to me. My eyes fly to the size of saucers as I climbed up the steps. How Ironic I got all pretty 'in case' I was seen in passing, now I was the star. "Finally, a bit lost dear," She joked making the crowd chuckle. No one liked it when a 12 year old went in, but in an almost career district... I think they'd understand Ambra dishonoring to volunteer for me.
"Any volunteers," Christin cooed, "No," She gasped obviously hoping I wasn't it. I locked eyes with my Ambra, and they said it all. I'm sorry, but you already stole my one form of honor, I will not do another act for you.
"Fine. For the boys-" she finished the ceremony quickly, my ears still filled with cotton, my knees weak from worry, my eyes red rimmed from the tears i obviously blinked back. "My baby girl," My Mom clawed at the door running in, and scooping me up.
"She was supposed to come back, you were never to have gone in," My Mom moaned hugging me. "Finnick was the youngest to win at 14! 14!" She growled as my father sat in the corner looking somber.
"Don't- she needs focus, she will win and come back," my Dad growled with such timid confidence, that I wanted to believe him too.
"Oh. of course, what was I thinking..." My Mom righted herself still clutching at my hand, like I was about to become a ghost. Maybe I was? Who knew what was after death.
"Please honey, don't wimp out. Stay strong for us, and your sister! She really wanted her chance," My Mom warned collecting my other hand.
"Of course," I nod
"And make them like you, it'll help in the arena. Like water hazards for others, and not you. Cause you can swim well," He explained his logics, hugging me and Mom in a group hug right as peacekeepers marched them out.
Ambra slowly walked in next, her perfectly braided hair still in tack as she sat carefully on the edge of the couch. Even angry she was beautiful, of course all training tributes had to be. She coldly turned to me, and as she looked her eyes softened.
Picking me up, she sighed, "You didn't want this anymore then I did." I nodded weakly, and curled into her. I couldn't say how much I didn't want to go, she'd never speak to me again. She wanted our family to have honor, not to be disgraced.
"Be good, take everything in the capital. Remember what I said when talked about my training at home," she warned, stroking my hair softly.
The peace keepers called for her and she winked at me, "We'll be rooting for you," She promised and with that it seemed as though Ambra decided to walk out of my new life.
I boarded my train looking out the window, kids from around the nation would have already left, would be arriving shortly, as I sat in my chair fiddling with my ribbon. The tall 17 year old boy from our district glared out the window, the one who was supposed to volunteer, did. A sneer on his face as he spun around, and looked at me.
"Well you won't be much help at all," He grumbled and walked turned to look out the window again, yet another person writing me off.
District 10 Male: (Castor Tice) Age: (15) Reaping Day:
"District 10 where they'll starve you, until you want to work to ignore the pains," I mutter bitterly slipping on my only pair of shoes that weren't boots. Running a farm wasn't dress shoe business. I sighed my messy hair surely wouldn't go flat, no matter how many times I soaked it. My black hair stuck up in some many floppy directions that if it went flat I wouldn't be surprised if it could cover my brown eyes. My Dad scanned me up and down, before shaking his head at me. He was a man of few words, so I grew up in the scilients.
It was just me and him growing up, My Mom died of a sickness that seemed to be plaguing all the outlying districts taking my baby brother with her. My Dad handled it as best as he could, but Mom was always the one to get him to laugh, to talk, and when she was gone- Well let's just say from then on you could hear a pin drop.
"Time," He gruffly spit out, getting up, towering over me. My Dad works at the largest farming district 10, doing all the heavy lifting, making him muscular, as if his tall frame needed it. I on the other hand, did the small needed jobs, that no one else wanted to do, in one of the smaller neighboring farms near the school. I was actually the only hand besides the farmers kids.
I nod joining the other boys my age in time for the reaping. "Castor, there you are," Griffin my best friend pokes me from behind. It probably was pretty hard to spot me, my tanned skin, and dark hair let me blend right in with the masses of district 10.
"The least they could go was make the peacekeepers do our jobs on the farm," Griffin grumbles. "Now I got to put up with everyones nervous crap, and work," He rants and I roll my eyes.
"Talk like that, and they'll put your name in there extra times for being rebellious," I snort, and he laughs.
"But then the ladies would miss all this," He gestures to his body and I snort. You can count Griffin to be confident in his non existant extreme looks. He wasn't ugly, but neither of us we're the man candy in our grade.
"I mean if I went in the whole city would be in a uprising, is it possible to even live a day without looking at my perfect jaw line," He jokes, as I elbow him in the gut.
"Ladies first," our escort Terrance bellows, digging around for a single slip. Even Griffin sombers next to me.
"Carmen Wilt," He chuckles, as a 14 year old girl clambers onto the stage.
"Good on ya, Darlin'" He smirks patting her back, as she stands stiffly, the blood draining from her tanned face.
"Thank god," Griffin breaths out, looking at his older twin sisters in the 16 year old area.
"Now for the gentlemen," Terrance smiles and I, tempted to grip Griffin's arm, but instead I cross my arms. The bell tower rings out announcing the hour, as Terrance fumbles with opening the small paper.
"Castor Tice," He calls, and I feel my arms drop into fists on my side without my permission. I feel my feet dragging my forward, in determined strides until I mount the stage. Don't pass out, don't pass out. Don't Castor, I chant.
"Ladies and Gentlemen the tributes of district 10!" I barely hear being yelled as I stare at griffin's pale face, and slightly open mouth, he knows as well as I do, going in from 10 is as good as being buried alive. I'm taken to a plush waiting room, that's fancier than anything I've ever seen. I've barely at down as a hysterical Griffin drags in his family.
Griffin wasn't just my best friend, but his Dad owned the farm I worked for, so I knew his siblings all pretty well. "DUDE," He screamed stumbling in his rush to get to me, "You- You- CAN'T! You're my wingman," He hollers as His sisters place a hand on mine, or his shoulders alike.
"This isn't fair," He whispers bitterly, His 2 older brothers sat in the corner. I may be an only child, But Griffin was the baby of his family, and they all hated to see him like this.
"Griffin," His sister warns sitting down leaning on my legs that dangled off the ground from the stool I sat on.
"Man this sucks," He muttered punching the wall. "They shouldn't be able to do this to us," He growled.
"We all think of you as a brother Castor," The girls smile at me with tears pricking at there identical eyes. I nodded not taking my eyes off Griffin's pacing form. His brothers were watching me with somber expression, before bouncing their eyes to Griffin now, and again.
"One minute," The peacekeepers voice echoed, sending Griffin to launch himself in an awkward half bro hug with me. "Look man, You gotta fight, and come back. The ladies can be all over me and the victor then," He joked but his voice cracked showing how tone he was.
"I will," I smirk, "Besides I trust you're sisters not to let your head get any bigger while I'm away," I shove him off me playfully at his sisters sending them the message I wanted. 'Take care of him'. They both sprung up kissing my cheek, and the peacekeeper walked in. "Time," He gruffly shoved them out, but not before Griffin screamed "Try Castor! You can always try!"
Next my Dad awkwardly came in and sat in silence next to me, before hugging me and saying Mom wouldn't have liked this anymore then he does now. So with the parting words of my loved ones still ingrained into my head I walked into the train to find Carmen trying to sleep, her head against the window, her eyes closed too tightly. I sigh watching the cows disappear from my view every mile we trek on, as Terrance chatters about capital delicacies, but all I'm thinking about is how I'm going to have to try.
District 1 Female: (Spark(le) Rendon) Age: (17 1/2) Reaping Day:
"Spark you up," My training mentor called, and I nod at her approaching form. Not only was I up, but I was ready to be lethal. I have trained my whole life to volunteer today so it was only natural to have the trainers act as a prep team for me today. Image is everything, everything after being able to have the skills needed that was.
My strawberry blonde hair, was a tint more orange then the usual expectation for our district. So instead of the usual curls most tributes had mine was cut in layers to make it easier to have volume. My grey eyes had smoky makeup brushed against them, and my lips were painted a dark blood red to black color. My white skin tight dress, had long sleeves, and the same color jewels as my lipstick boarded the edges.
"Gorgeous as usual," My mentor smirked as I gnashed my teeth playfully at her. "Now, now save biting out throats until you're in the arena," She cackled. I rolled my eyes and stood up ready to go. I have been in training since I was 5 years old. I only see my mother for about 3 hours a year when my mentors collect training money from her, I have no idea if I had any other family. The only reason you were told is if they also were training, and apparently none of mine was if I had any at all.
I was picked for my combat skills, I was short, built, and attractive. It didn't hurt that I was lethal with any sort of short throwing knifes either, but I could easily beat any other girls in the whole facility at hand to hand combat too. Making me the obvious choice for the hunger games.
"Sparkle look at you,"
"You're so beautiful,"
"That's gonna be me someday,"
I hear other younger girl tributes call as I passed them to get to the reaping. Everyone parted the seas as I walked, I was legendary, the best tribute we have had from in in decades my mentors praised, and I was ready to live up to their expectations.
I stood in the crowd with the other girls from my year as the reaping video played. There angry, and jealous glances always flickering to my cocky smirk, as my grey eyes smoldered any boys who dared look my way. I was going to win the hunger games, It was my job. I had too. The only other family I had was a brother who brought disgrace to my family, by dying in the final 3, 7 years ago. It was hard, he died, he had let the whole district down. My interviews were still broadcast across the capital, I was known to be a sister of someone who lost in the games.
The boy going in with me, wasn't as legendary as I would have liked, but burly, and cocky enough to seem that he could have been.
"Sparkle, looking hot," He mouthed to me, and I in turned glared at him, and mouthed "Spark."
I hated being called something as wimpy as Sparkle, maybe he was okay with his name. Who wouldn't be with a name like his. Fierce Pace was a strong name, and he had a built looked, that owned up to his name.
Sure his mug, could have had less of a hooked nose, less freckles across his face, and less width between his two eyes, but he was tough and that's what we needed. He wasn't bad looking either, his spiky blonde hair, had been dip dyed in a black, and he had black eyeliner ever so slightly under his eyes.
His muscles so big they practically, bust the tight white shirt he had under his black blazer. We we're both ready to go in. Both ready to bring our district honor, only I was the one coming out not him.
"Any Volunteers," the giggly Escort called for the female tribute, and ever so slowly I raised my hair in one fluid motion, my head held high like I was too good for all this.
"I volunteer," I smiled dazzlingly at the camera, walking up the stage steps and standing proudly chest out, at the crowd. The action was repeat far more eagerly by Fierce, and we excited to meet our loved ones that would never come. Instead our training mentors would come, and give us one last report on our skills, and our flaws to tell the game mentors, and a summary given about each other so we could eventually take each other out in the end.
I board the train holding Friece's arms as though he was a dance partner, as gracefully as if we have done this hundreds of times. In fact we have, at practice, image means everything remember?
When we board the train, we immediately break apart, sneering at each other, before he breaks first and smirks.
"Recaps so we can pick allies," He gestures for me to go first, and I sigh. He probably only wants me to go first so he can watch my butt in this dress, not that I'd blame him.
"I get the say on them as of now, my mock training score was higher," I forcefully remind him as I swiftly plant myself in front of the TV, let the pre hunger games show begin.