Hello! BriNoodle here with my FIRST fanfiction! But anyways, some info on the story!
{{Prologue}}
Summary : Arthur Kirkland is your average 17-year old teen striving to survive the industrial, dangerous days of Panem...Right? Not so much- because that's just who he used to be. Follow along Arthur's wild, striving story as he is faced against the nation's worst : The Hunger Games.
Disclaimer! BriNoodle does NOT own Hetalia : Axis powers, OR the magnificence of all that is ze HUNGER GAMES.!
Warning! : Rating may go from T to M depending on both the gore, violence, or any other tid-bit I should happen to add. Also due to the fact that since this is my first, of course i'll be paranoid. Pairings?..Currently none on mind..May change that.
(Present time, Monday)
A knot twisted with a keen unpleasureable feel, deep within Arthur Kirkland's stomach. Within the gathered crowd of District 12's population, Arthur and his family of 5 children-including Arthur-, and his parents stood reasonably near to the front of the crowd; and to the stadium. Watching with grim impatience through Strobe-like emerald eyes, the environment around him continued to actively rustle on. Despite that his 3 other Siblings- Allistor, Alexander and Andrew, continued to bicker on for bickering sake... Arthur remained silent. For Arthur, this day…Was different from the others. This was the very day, out of 365, that fear was shed upon all 12 existing Districts of Panem. For the children... At least. Because on this day, there was a reaping to be held. It would be for the unmistaken ably, one and only Hunger Games.
(Monday, 9:01 A.M.)
Today seemed to start like any other normal day- For myself at least. My brothers are practically like alarm clocks in the bloomin' morning; always up from dusk 'till dawn playing pranks, jokes, etc. It's come to grow bloody annoying...But I admit they've saved my arse from multiple cases of sleeping in, missing breakfast, so and so on.
As expected I felt some cracks and slight sensations from stretched muscle and bone from a night of being cramped into one or two sleeping positions. Pulling myself forward, I raised a sleepy hand to the back of my neck for a good scratch. Senses returning, I could smell delightful hints of freshly conjured Tea, and the crisp, golden brown bread my mum always seemed able to perfect with ease. Of course, I was never considered a 'Good cook' in the family, rather terrible in others opinions. That doesn't matter though; I know my food's delicious.
I kicked back the hand-stitched quilt my Grandmother had made my mum so long ago, that was now passed down to me, further down the bed as my legs clumsily swung over to the side. My head felt dizzy from the quick actions after just waking up, but instinctively I knew that would only be temporary; may even be gone by the time I've reached the bottom of the staircase.
"Hurry yer' arse up Arthur, som'of us 'ld like to get to breakfast'while it's still'mornin!" Allistor annoucned rather loudly from a distance behind me. Allistor is only a year older than I am, eighteen. Although I have a messy case of yellow hair Allistor had locks of ginger, a thin line of freckles dusting his cheeks, and his voice smeared with a thick accent. Probably because he had a different mum than I did. More or less, we all actually have different mothers. Roger Kirkland, My father, was a player. Earlier in his prime, it was almost a hobby of his, to jump from woman to woman as if they had been nothing more than bloody toothpicks! Well, that could explain why he now works in the District 12 Coal mines every passing second to support his expanded family of a wife, and four teenaged boys.
I must have been moving at a slow pace, because the dolt wouldn't stop pressing my nerves for me to sidestep and allow the brute down before me. Although from past experience I was smarter than to do so. I know that the bloke would get to the better of the food courted in the floor below, before me.
"You won't be starved by the time I'm down there, Allistor." I replied sheepishly, my jaw extended into a yawn by the end of the sentence. I think that I had heard a grunt from Al, but between my yawning, and the creaks in the floorboards of the wooden steps, I simply couldn't tell. But oh well, I was already at the bottom stair of the long, yet narrow stair case when Allistor squeezed past me and towards the Table.
I blinked a couple of times, before pulling out the hand-crafted wooden seat belonging to the large and circular, also hand-crafted table. Yeah, I can agree, a lot of the furniture in District 12 was wood. But taking that our job- the Mining district- didn't come across the use of fire, nobody really lost a night of sleep over it.
Andrew and Alexander had already been downstairs before Allistor and I, and stuffing their faces with the bread mum had baked at that. I sighed; Brothers would be brothers. I reached over to the near center of the table, snatching a toasty warm, gold tinted loaf of bread. Leaning back into my chair, I chewed the bread.
My brothers?...I guess I could describe them. First, I already explained how we all had different Birth-mothers, so we didn't look fully related; but instead somewhat. Allistor is the oldest out of us four and taller than me by...What? 3...4 inches? (And I'm 5'2!) He had ruffled ginger hair, a trace of freckles along the topside of his cheeks, and similar green eyes. Although his eyes were...A darker shade of green, almost mossy green. In honesty, I can say that I don't have the strong built frame that my brothers do, they having a coal miner's strength through genes, and me having...Well...Not so much.
Alexander, only a month or so younger than Allistair, had more of a... Orange-gold tone of hair. It was less ruffled than both mine and Allistor's, but ruffled it was. You should see his face; it's covered in freckles, unlike the rest of us. And not on just his face, they're on his arms, back, neck even! He doesn't like to be teased about it although. I'm about his height, maybe an inch or so shorter. Alexander has *More or less* Pale green eyes, almost like a leaf bud on the sink of spring.
Then there's Andrew. He's about… Five months younger than Allistor, and he's at my height- Although he insists to deny it, the wanker. But anyways, Andrew always sparked an opinion of interest from the towns' folk because of his looks. Don't take it the wrong way, because he really is different.
Andrew has pitch black hair, with these…violet, almost purplish eyes. Sounds like it would catch anyone's eye, right? But anyways, without any freckles at all, Andrew is rather pale.
There's only one striking similarity between all of us brothers. We are all Kirklands.
(Earlier, 9:06A.M.)
Around four minutes of deafening silence had passed- besides the clucks of chickens just outside the household walls, and rumbling of awakening towns people. I pressed a spread of butter across my bread. Even though the breakfast was pleasant…This was just...Strange. Usually the Kirkland family meals were full of chatter and chaos. But certainly not today, and breakfast was passing second by dying second in a communication-less silence. I didn't like it one bit.
"Blimey...Why are you all so quiet today…?" I said, breaking the silence. My mother looked at me with a rather shocked expression; it wasn't rubbing the good side of the mystery either.
"Y-You don't remember, Arthur…?" Hesitantly spoke Mary Kirkland in reply. Although the rest of the family remained pretending to be focused on their meal; but they didn't fool Arthur.
"No, I don't believe I do or I wouldn't really be asking." Arthur retorted in response to his mother.
"That's enough! Don't speak to your mother that way." Roger Kirkland snapped. Arthur was surprised, what was up with him today?
"But dad, I wasn-"
"I said that's ENOUGH. Finish your meal and get some proper clothes on, we're leaving to Town Hall soon." Roger Kirkland demanded, his face a wrinkled and angered sleepy mess.
"Why? Are we not going to the mines today…" But I stopped there. If looks could kill, I would be stone dead by the look my father was giving me. I didn't argue past that, I wasn't getting in bloody trouble if we were just going over to Town hall. I felt like giving shrugged shoulders to the man, but I'd rather not be slapped today for any arrogance. It was awfully early in the morning, the family was probably just cranky to get up...Right?
=Authors Note=
Hey, Sorry for such a short n' shappy chapter! D: This is my first Fanfiction, and I'm VERY nervous about its outcome. I hope you enjoyed reading, and please give an input or review- Good or bad! It'll be very helpful for my motivation throughout the story D= ALSO I wrote this out on the limb of the idea of it being a Prologue..Since the real story begins at the Reaping *At least to where I had it planned* So please- if it bothers you, do mention how you thought of this chapter as the prologue
Alexander = N. Ireland
Andrew = Wales
Allistor = Scotland
EEEE-Thanks!
~BriNoodle