Yo yo yo everybody! Chase here with a bit of a filler episode! It's meant to be more humourous and light-hearted, explaining the past thirteen years in Panem—or at least the little series that it's a part of will; these will be coming out from time to time while waiting for the tributes to come in, to make sure people see the story. I'm not planning to start the Reapings until I get enough tributes in, although there's a good chance that I'll start if things are going a little slowly. As always you can see the application in the first chapter. Please apply, or at least review! Applications are accepted through reviews OR PM's. Thanks!
Disclaimer: I don't own The Hunger Games. Despite my many disagreements with what Suzanne Collins did with the series, she owns it. Not me.
August 21st, 19:00 – The Capitol
The mansion of President Ivre was quite humble compared to the last president's; of course, why shouldn't it? Ivre is a man of simple means. It's a simple two-story building, though what it lacks in height it makes up for in length—the bottom floor itself, despite having only two rooms, was at least a kilometre long; the grand ballroom was quite the breathtaking sight, with its tasteful paintings and beautifully patterned floors and ceilings; and the dining hall was like something you'd see in a myth—with a long wooden table that could seat many, and could hold much food and drink to last decades. However, the room that is drawing our interest right now is the president's personal living room.
It's a warm room with a large fireplace with a burning fire raging inside it; above it sits a long, singular flatscreen television. The room is painted a tan colour with a long couch capable of sitting several people at a time, made of a white material; beside it set two matching end tables with lamps atop them. Three armchairs are scattered about the room, one in a perpetual state of disarray—in fact, it's completely flipped over. A few empty bottles of whiskey lay about it like grave markers—this is usually the president's chair. However, at this particular time, Ivre is laying on the couch with an arm slung over his eyes; his mane of shaggy brown hair lays spread out like pools of tilled soil, and he currently wears a pair of dark shorts and a purple tank top. In his right arm, the one that is not covering his eyes, he clutches a black remote control; a second later, his grip on the remote loosens and it falls to the ground face-down, and suddenly the TV turns on.
"Muh? The hell is that…?" grumbles Ivre, bolting up and eventually falling off the couch. He lays there facedown for several minutes as the television makes a strange whirring noise. The screen turns white for a second, before music starts blaring and words appear on it. He rolls over and looks at it. "Damn… I must've bought that history movie after all…"
Panem: A History—From the Decades of Driving Snow to the Days of Flowing Ale is displayed on the black and purple screen in orange lettering in varying shades, giving it the appearance of burning flames. Ivre sighed. "Nothing better to do… guess I'll watch this for a while."
Roughly an hour later, after some boring crap about President Snow's staff, the picture immediately turned to that of a dense forest; a girl with long black hair is running from a volley of fireballs that fling past her. The picture shrinks and moves to one of the corners, followed by more pictures; the words The Seventy-fourth Hunger Games—President Snow's Finest Hour? are splayed across it. Ivre focuses more intensely on this—Ivre had, in the few hours he spent sober during the first year of his presidency, studied quite intently on the mistakes of his predecessor.
A few minutes later, the final battle of those games were shown—Katniss Everdeen, known as the Girl on Fire, and Peeta Mellark of District 12 were fighting Cato Aquilus of District 2 atop the Cornucopia; the blonde boy of District 12 was forcing him back with a spear, though his blows were often parried by Cato's sword. Katniss shot arrows at him to keep him off balance, but finally Cato landed a blow on Peeta—a fearsome slice right across his stomach, probably a good three inches deep. The blonde boy staggers backward and falls into the mouth of the golden Cornucopia, his body sprawled back over a supply crate, eyes wide open and as lifeless as the starless night sky above him. Katniss screams out, "PEETA!" and fires an arrow into Cato's neck.
As Cato's bulky, armour-covered body topples over the edge and falls onto Peeta's, making the black supply crate that served like an unlit funeral pyre buckle underneath their combined weights, Katniss is waiting for the trumpets that would announce her victory. Then at the sound of some crackling off in the distance, she gives a confused look and jumps down to inspect Peeta and Cato's bodies. The wooden lid of the almost treasure chest-like container is beginning to splinter under the combined weight of the two larger boys. She unceremoniously pushes Cato's corpse off of it, taking the arrow that was stuck in his jugular (similar to how she had killed one of his teammates a week or so earlier) and then gingerly laid Peeta's on the ground. She bends over Peeta's body and quietly brushed his hair out of his eyes. "I'm sorry, Peeta…" she whispers, taking the extra quiver of arrows he was carrying for her.
"YAAAAAH!" the screaming comes from the high field amongst the tall grass. Some roaring follows it.
"No… but he died, didn't he? Cato said he killed him…" Katniss says quietly. Then Thresh comes charging out of the field, with several dogs hot on his tail—the same dogs that had chased Katniss, Peeta and Cato to the Cornucopia. She puts an arrow to her bowstring and draws it back, aiming at his chest, but he's on her too fast, knocking her to the ground in an attempt to get away from the dogs. She falls flat on her stomach and pushes herself up using the crate as a protective shield; she scrambles to get an arrow into her bow and manages to shoot it into the throat of one of the ugly dogs, sending it colliding to the ground.
Katniss looks behind her—Thresh has gotten away. Far away. She can't imagine how long it's been since he pushed through to get away from the dogs; it really does seem like it's been hours, even though in reality only seconds have passed. She notches another arrow and shoots another dog, backing far into the Cornucopia, scrambling over crates and using them as cover.
The dogs don't seem concerned with Thresh anymore. Their sleek grey-furred bodies wriggle and bound over the supply boxes to get to her, clambering over the piles of weapons and finally Peeta's body, which she dragged inside. There are only two now; one is preparing to pounce from a tall box, which she shoots in the stomach, causing it to crash backwards. "Now where's the other one…" says Katniss quietly, looking around and moving forward cautiously.
A snarl sounds from beside her, and behind one of the crates she just moved past, a pair of jaws snap hungrily. "Clever girl…" Katniss says softly, swinging her bow to shoot it, but she's too late. The hound is on her like slime on a snake, biting and clawing at her. Katniss does her best to hold it back, but eventually it snaps its jaws on one of her hands, rendering it unusable. Now trying to fight back with one hand, Katniss is aware of the inevitable—even if Thresh were nearby, he promised he'd only save her that once from Clove. "Prim… forgive me," she whispers as she feels the beast's hot breath on her face. She lets out a bloodcurdling scream as its jaws clamp around her neck, and she begins to feel herself go limp.
Slowly she begins to fade from existence, but as she's dying she hears, "Fire girl! Shit!" her eyes blink rapidly and she feels the beast's jaws get removed from her throat, and see it lifted up into the air and thrown onto a pile of weapons. Thresh is kneeling over her, cradling her head. "C'mon, Fire girl. Don't die. You promised Rue."
"S-sorry…" Katniss utters before her eyes close forever. The camera focuses in on Thresh's face; his dark face twists into a look of fury.
Trumpets blare out from all sides; the voice of Claudius Templesmith calls out, "We have a winner! Thresh Okeniyi of District 11!"
As the girl from District 12's blood spills freely from the open wound on her neck, pooling in the dirt and grass, Thresh's fists clench and he bears his teeth. An innocent twelve year old had been killed, and Thresh couldn't help her… he helped the little girl's ally once, but it wasn't enough; she died… and there was no one he could kill to avenge her, nothing he could do…
"That concludes Panem: A History—From the Decades of Driving Snow to the Days of Flowing Ale." says an announcer whose voice sounds oddly like… Morgan Freeman?
"FINALLY!" Ivre says, jumping up from his couch. "Now I can get something to drink."
"Volume one. Of fourteen."
"SHIT!"
So this is the first in a series of somewhat humourous (at least I think they are) filler episodes explaining the past thirteen years in Panem, starting this episode with the 74th Hunger Games, that will come out periodically from time to time, mainly to make sure that people see this. Also, I'd like to thank rdfalcon560 and SpaceAgeDino for expressing enough interest to read and review (and follow, thank you guys so much!)—I really loved SpaceAgeDino's review because it's honestly one of the most descriptive reviews I've gotten in a while, so thank you so much—and in response to your "first person" thought, I did it in third person because I didn't feel that first would be necessary, at least not until we get into the real stuff. As for the "Battlestar Galactica" part, it was just a drunken president trying to say "Battle Royale" XD
Anyway, I want you all to know that until July 18th, at about 1 am, the District 1 girl is officially reserved. Like I said, once you reserve a tribute, you have exactly one week to do the application before you lose them; all reserves must be requested through PM, but I will accept applications either way. Please apply, I really do want to go through with this one, and see you all later!
~Chase
