Authors Note: I am totally aware that the 74th Hunger Games was the last, but I wanted to do one with totally original characters, so let the 79th begin. Also I begin explaining District One and then I skip to District 7, for obvious reasons, please don't kill me for this, but I didn't want to toy on a a massive extract for every District, when really the District One opening was to set a scene and District 7 is to introduce the character.
Disclaimer: Unfortunately I have no imagination nearly as good as Suzanne Collins, so although the characters are mine the idea belong to the amazing Suzanne Collins.
"Evan Quill; The Empty Promise"
Prologue
District One
The glamorous stage towered above the land and the people of District One. All eyes fixed on Wrent and his bright, dazzling, purple suit, which flared up around his ankles and shoulders. The sun rolled over the horizon like an ochre eye of a prancing cat which was mirrored in the eyes of the people. Wrent's voice was projected around the stadium-like gathering place. It sounded elated and experienced as the words slipped out from his mouth, "Welcome! Welcome! The 79th anual Hunger Games is upon us already!" His hands clapped together in a childish excitement, "Let us be polite, lades first." His child-like nature was mirrored in his joyful skip across stage towards the glistening, pearl, fish-like bowl as he finally brought himself to his calm sense and announced softly, "May the odds be ever in your favour." His hand dived into the sea of paper and as the crowd held their breaths he plucked one out and allowed the crowd to gasp as he unfolded it surely. Silence followed before a glow sparkled in Wrent's eyes and he boomed a very familiar name across the stadium, "Marie Tims!" Usually District One was full of volunteers and it was often a struggle of picking out the ultimate competitor, but this time the girls stayed silent - not because they weren't keen, but because Marie Tims had a reputation. She was the best in the careers training centre and she had already mortally wounded many competitors in 'friendly duels' this was most definitely her year, and anyone standing up against her would probably already be dead. Marie was was beaming from ear to ear as she moved with her rippling blonde sand-like hair swaying and her shivering blue eyes sparkling in excitement, she wasn't much more then sixteen, but obviously was determined, and in the end determination defied the winner from looser. She manoeuvred her way at a constant pace towards the stage, her sequin dress floating around behind her, catching the wind slightly before settling as she climbed the stage sharing the excited smile of Wrent's. She bowed her head respectfully and calmly announced, "I will win for you!" As Wrent laughed at her enthusiasm she half-yelped with excitement and accepted the vibrant applause of the enthusiastic crowd.
Silence fell after what seemed like hours of clapping and hooting, as all the boys suddenly stiffened out of excitement - their turn to shine. Wrent called with eagerness, "Timothy Newton." In those seconds before Timothy could move a muscular boy with frizzy black hair jumped into the air in an elated dance, "I volunteer! I volunteer as tribute!" He raced at a startling pace to the stage and boomed into the microphone, "Zackery Burr, and well, I want to apologise to all those who wanted a place today but didn't get it. I would say I'm sorry, but I'm not." He said it almost solemnly, but his face left another story - one of determination and total elation. However it didn't prevent Wrent from throwing his head back in the common hysterics that was often the case of all escorts. Wrent couldn't really wait for silence this time, so clapped his hands together and spoke close to the microphone, turning his voice into a brilliant sound, "Well, well we have our two spectacular tributes, so we'll be leaving shortly - come and say your goodbyes!" The crowd screeched and cheered for a few minuets before parting their separate ways with a few moving towards the tribute rooms planning their abrupt goodbyes.
District Seven
The silence in District Seven was unbearable, everyone stood in their formal lines hiding away their aches and pains. Cinnamon crossed the stage and rather half heartedly she called the name of the girl tribute representing District Seven in the 79th Hunger Games, "Thrush Matt." Although glum and upset Thrush made her approach to the stage, somewhat rememberable. She skipped towards the stage, not happily, but with defiance, high-fiving all those on the edges of isle. Although her teeth chattered she called into the microphone, sarcastically, but with meaning, "May the odds be ever in my favour." The District Seven audience smiled in admiration and clapped slowly acknowledging her bravery and defiance. Cinnamon blinked away her tears and moved to the boys before calling, slightly more depressed then usual, "Evan Quill." A grieving howl erupting from the crowd. Many members of the crowd clasped their hands to their faces and even Cinnamon dropped the paper, tears welling in her eyes. Almost everyone in all the Districts and the Capitol knew the story of the the Quill's, it was said they were a cursed family, and today had proved just that. In the 72nd Hunger Games the oldest son, Tirant Quill, aged 17, entered the Hunger Games and died. Since then the oldest daughter, Melony Quill, aged 15, died in the 74th Hunger Games, but also her twin, Sandra Quill was drawn two years later in the 76th Hunger Games. The only remaining Quill son was 15 now and that was Evan Quill, now it was likely that none of the Quill's children would every survive their 18th Birthdays. Evan Quill moved quiet towards the stage, eyes fixated on him as he saw his mother blinking away tears and his father standing in a morbid halt beside her - this was the end, the cursed family could no longer be cursed.
In the Capitol
The lights of the Capitol glared as we got closer and closer until thousands of people were waving and smiling whilst each et of tributes stepped out of their carriages in a blurry haze of panic, excitement and fame. Many of the tributes shared the smiles of their escorts and trainers, reflected in the faces of the people, but a few shared the sense of dread that filled their gut. Each tribute lined up waiting silently as there stylists came and called their names. The calling seemed to ring on forever, even after the tribute had left. No one registered anything. Moments like these were tense, may tributes were already judging who they would want as allies, and worse - who they should kill first. The speakers boomed, shocking the tributes from District 11 and 12 - which, obviously, all the careers just laughed at, "District Seven; Evan Quill." That as me.
I moved slowly, clenching my hands to avoid shaking from head to toe - right now I could show no weakness. I held my chin high and turned to lock high contact with the girl from four, I believe her name was Samries, but I couldn't care less about the careers right now. Shaking the hand of a very slim, very pale, tall man with a comb back of electric blue hair, was when I suddenly realised the differences that the Capitol shared with the Districts. There was nothing in common. This man clasped my hand confidently whilst firmly mentioning his name, "Score" before pulling me along with his emerald pinstriped suit rippling around his ankles and cuffs - such strange attire. It wasn't long before I was being thrust into a chair and having outfits of all colours and shapes pressed up against me, with men fiddling with my hair strangely my ears. I didn't register much and I was glad of that, because by the time they were finished I was left in an emerald green suit, a similar shade to Score's and watching him clap in an elated, over-reacted, probably planned movement. When Cinnamon and Wood walked in I was happy, for once, to see there familiar faces. Cinnamon joined in with the elated clapping and I pondered whether it was a 'Capitol thing'. Wood just smiled and nodded respectfully. Time passed as I slipped out of the suit and into a tight fitting, fighting-ready combat suit with the number seven imprinted on the sleeve, representing my District, District Seven. Wood had shoved me along the corridor until I was outside the training room and the last thing I heard before entering the lethal session ahead of me was, "Your late."