Author's Note: There's a new poll on my profile I'd like you all to vote on.
To HG fans: These introductory chapters may seem in random order, but they do take place chronologically. I just did not want to bore you all (and myself) with twelve reaping chapters, so character introductions take place pretty much all the way to the arena.
Spain Carriedo, District 3
There's no way this is happening.
I'm eighteen—just a few days away from nineteen, actually. I had to take tessarae one year. The odds weren't exactly in my favour.
But I can't believe I'm here in the Justice Building. Just two years after my own sister was reaped and sent off to her death... I'm getting reaped, too? It doesn't make sense. Is this some elaborate trick of the Capitol to make their Games more interesting? Have the reapings been rigged from the start?
...No, that doesn't make much sense, either. This kind of thing doesn't happen often enough for that. But... I don't know. There has to be something wrong. It's just too... cruel for the Capitol to do this.
Although the Capitol isn't exactly known for its kindness. They're only just kind enough to let me have my final goodbyes.
Aptly named. They're definitely final for twenty-three tributes every year—and probably for the twenty-fourth, since Victors are never the same people when they come back.
I wonder if I'll come back. I'm not weak. I could probably survive out there fine. It's just... I really don't think I could bring myself to kill people. How could I? It's already a bad enough thing to do without having it directly affect you. But when that monster from 2 murdered my sister... She pretty much killed my chances of doing anything similar.
So, what am I going to do? Survive by myself, and hope everyone else miraculously kills each other off? I'd probably go crazy without anyone to talk to. And there's no way the Gamemakers would let me win that easily. They'll probably give me an even harder time because of my sister.
I don't know what I'm going to do. Just... hope for the best.
I've had just enough time to examine my room in the Justice Building—with bleak, grey tile as the floor; on one end, a door painted so as to seem made of gears; a few slick, silver couches to sit on; and a dull white, lonely ceiling fan spinning laggardly—before my parents come in.
...If I thought I had it bad... These two have to watch both of their children go through the Games. And, more likely than not, watch them both die.
N-No. I'm not going to let myself start thinking like that. It... may be more realistic, but... I can't get into that cycle.
I try to focus on my parents for the short time they're allowed to stay, but it's hard. They're so miserable about this, I find myself unable to look them in the eyes.
And then they're gone.
A few friends come in to visit, but I can hardly pay attention. Whether they're trying to comfort me or not, they aren't.
They're just reminding me how much I have to lose.
Lovi Vargas, District 3
There's no way this is happening.
I can't keep myself from nervously clawing at the couch I'm sitting on, and the result is a few nailfuls of stuffing.
No—freaking—way!
I try to swing my legs back and forth to calm down, but I end up doing it so violently I almost kick myself off the couch.
"Lovi?"
My legs halt, and I look away from the scratches on the couch to see the person entering my room.
It's Feli, my sister. We're twins—both 14, with hazel eyes—and most people wouldn't be able to tell us apart if her hair weren't a significantly lighter shade of brown than mine.
Don't ask me how that happened. Even though we're twins, we're not that alike. I'd blame it on our dear "male guardian" for spending way more time with her, just because she can draw better than me. It's his fault she's such a stupid scaredy-cat.
Feli hurries over to sit on the couch next to me. I scoot away a little bit.
"L-Lovi?"
Oh, crap. Now she's going to start crying.
—And the thought's no sooner gone through my head than her bawling begins.
"I'm s-so sorry!" she wails, surging over and throwing her arms around me in a desperate hug. "I-I never spent enough time w-with you... I-I should have m-made Grandpa let you play with me..." She's practically hyperventilating now, unable to get anything coherent out.
Normally I would struggle out of her grasp—it's awkward and constraining—and yell at her for being such a crybaby, but... I might never get to see her again.
" 'Sokay," I mutter, slumping my shoulders in resignation.
Feli sniffles. "R-Really?"
"Yeah..." I huff. "I never wanted to be around that old man, anyway."
"O-Okay..." Feli loosens her grip a little, and eventually her arms fall back to her sides.
Normally I'd be grateful for the silence—that's usually the only way I know my sister hasn't screwed something up recently—but there's no time.
"Is there... anything else you want to say?" I prompt reluctantly.
Feli blinks at me. "I..." She suddenly lunges toward me again for another hug, knocking the breath out of me. "I-I want you to know I believe in you, Lovi!" she cries, hugging so hard I have to shoulder her away a bit to start breathing again. "You can win, o-okay?"
...She's so sappy. If she thinks saying something cheesy like that is going to make me feel better... Well...
Okay, maybe she's not that mistaken after all.
"Time's up."
Feli whimpers, not wanting to let me go.
"...Okay, Feli," I start as the Peacekeeper starts to nudge her away from me, "you listening?"
I hear a sniffly "uh-huh" as she's made to let go.
"You'd better be broken up with that stupid, potato-eating boyfriend of yours by the time I get back!" I barely get the final words out before she's shoved out the door.
The wooden pane shuts behind her before she can respond, and I'm left in the room alone.
I don't think anyone else is going to visit. I don't really have any friends. There's no way my grandfather is going to bother to visit me. I don't have any other family.
But the door opens again.
A tall, average-framed boy with short hair a little lighter brown than mine and very green eyes walks in. It's the guy that got reaped, Spain or whatever.
"What do you want?" I snap, crossing my arms.
He blinks, taken aback, as the Peacekeeper, watching carefully, shuts the door behind him.
"Um..." Spain laughs weakly. "I guess—" he scratches the back of his head—"an alliance would be nice."
"What? Why would you want to ally with—" I cut off, clearing my throat. "I mean... What makes you think I would ally with you?"
"Er... Just... because?" he replies awkwardly, obviously not expecting me to question his offer.
Hmph. I can't believe he'd just assume I'd want to ally with him. I mean, sure, he's eighteen, so he'll have a physical advantage in the arena. And most people want allies like that.
But I'd do perfectly fine by myself! I don't need anyone to help!
I look back over at him with a glare, and he flinches, still looking confused.
Oh, what am I talking about? I'm no good at fighting. So, if he wanted to help me for a little while...
"All right, fine," I say. "Allies it is."