Hey, hey, hey! I'm back with this years District 3 reapings! Shout out to RhiannaNekozawa and broadwayfreak123 for Tallie and Sparky. Virtual cookies for you! Special cookies, not crappy oatmeal raisin ones. Blech, raisins belong in little boxes, not in things as awesome as cookies.
DISCLAIMER: I dO nOt OwN tHe HuNgEr GaMeS!
SPARKY FORKS'S POV
8:00 AM, gotta get out of bed, open my window, and inhale the lung choking air filled with smoke that is my wonderful home. Sometimes I think that that's the worst part of District 3. My mother sometimes tells me that hundreds of years ago pollution like this caused the polar ice caps to nearly melt. She said it was called "Global Warming". If something like that happens because of our District, then it looks like we're in for some melt-y trouble. Not to mention the Capitol will sue us, or blow us off the face of the planet. Whichever's cheaper.
I quickly shut the window to avoid getting the smog into my just-cleaned-yesterday room and run into the bathroom. Brushing my teeth is the only way to get the smoky aftertaste off my breath. Plus the taste of mint soothes my frazzled nerves; I can't go to sleep without it. That's why I always keep a stock of mint-flavored toothpaste and my mint plant in the corner of my room. Can't have it die on me now, now can I?
After brushing my teeth for about two minutes straight, I rinsed and put a small mint leaf on my tongue before opening the door and walking down the hallway to the small homey kitchen. Standing at the counter was my wonderful mother and sister Merilla, obviously cooking breakfast. Merilla turned around to get the saltshaker and laid her eyes on me. Her big eyes widened even more than they were and she ran up to give me a hug.
"Sparky!" She called out and squeezed my chest, nearly knocking the breath out of me. She's either been working out or that pink dress of hers is adding ten pounds to her weight.
"Hi…Merilla…" I wheezed and hugged her back. "You've gotten…very…strong… would you…mind…letting go?" Merilla immediately let go.
"Oh, I'm sorry," She said and laughed. I ruffled her hair and turned to my mother, who was just now noticing that I had arrived. She scanned me over, but let her blue eyes rest on my left palm.
"Sparky Ignis Forks!" She scolded. "I will not allow you to eat until you have gone upstairs and put a bandage on that burn!" I looked down at the black scalded flesh on my left hand. Yesterday, my buddies and me were setting of small firecrackers in the back lot of the electrical factory. When I was setting off the last one, it backfired and sent a tongue of sizzling flame across my palm. It looks like someone took a hot coal and pressed into my hand. "I will not have you go out there today looking like…THAT! Shoo, shoo," She said and hurried me down the hall. "And get dressed while you're at it, too! Remember, noting ashy!"
I rolled my hazel eyes and threw open my closet, pulling out the first two things I laid my eyes on: a bright red t-shirt and long blue jeans. Nothing special, nothing extraordinary, nothing colorful, just me. I slipped them on in a flash and replaced the mint leaf on my tongue before digging around in our bathroom pantry for gauze. As soon as my hands felt the thick, white, squishy roll of it, I tore off a foot long strip, wrapped it around the inward part of my hand plus the palm, and glued it shut with my sister's craft glue. It should hold until I get back this afternoon.
When all was said and done, I shut off the lights and walked back into the kitchen to find a plate with me written all over it sitting on the table. It included two slices of toast, a stick of string cheese, a fat Cortland apple, and a small cup of milk. Normally, we don't get milk here because we're so far away from District 10, but I guess today's a special occasion, with the reaping and all. I downed it in about ten minutes, giving me enough time to brush my teeth one last time, comb my shaggy dirty blonde locks, and meet my friends outside the Square for some last minute fun. Before I left, though, my dad came down from his room to find me in just my t-shirt and jeans.
"Son," He said, looking me up and down. "You're just going to wear that?" I nodded solemnly. He sighed and dug around in our coat closet for something. "Here," he said, pulling out and handing me a jacket. "Put this on before you leave."
It was long and baggy, with fake gold buttons and a waist tie. It was an ugly greenish-gray color and looked too big for me, but I'll wear it anyway. "Thanks Dad," I say and put the coat on as I walk out the door. I probably would take it off before the reaping anyway. Spring this time of year is hot, and the smog doesn't help at all. It didn't take long before I reached the Square. My four friends were grouped around something near the butcher.
"Hey guys," I said and walked over, hands in my pockets. "What are you doing?" They all looked back at me while stowing something behind their backs and grinning, teeth showing proudly. I have the most amazing, friendly, loyal, don't-mind-my-pyromaniacness friends I could ever wish for.
Rollo, with his laid-back attitude that always gets him detention in school. Graham, with his tense, over-cautious sense of living that gets us both in and out of trouble. Decca, with her constant ways of wearing boy's clothes to every occasion, even school, and her brilliant, boyish laugh. And Chrissy, with her rectangular, rimless glasses she always has perched on the tip of her tiny nose to shield her beautiful blue eyes.
"Whatcha hiding behind you're backs?" I asked and tilted my head to the side. They all looked at each other uneasily before pulling out something.
"Surprise!" Chrissy exclaimed and held out what appeared to be a lighter. It was made out of gold with a black base. But there was something special about it. When I tilted it, crimson flames flickered back and forth while glittering lightning sparks flashed behind it.
"Whoa!" I said, turning all around. "How did you do this?"
Rollo leaned forward, proud smile on his face, and answered my question with ease. "Well, I came up with the idea, Graham got the lighter, Decca created the design, and Chrissy engineered the whole thing."
"And the best part is…" Graham slowly lifted back the top and flipped the switch, making fire bubble out of the top. But it wasn't any old fire. This one changed colors – from black to white, to white to red, to red to yellow and back around. It was strangely impressive for the works of my friends.
"Oh my gosh this is amazing!" I exclaimed, feeling the lighter in my grip. "Why did you make this for me?"
Decca rolled her eyes. "Well, 'cause it's your birthday next week silly! Duh!" I sat in silence for a moment. I had forgotten that my birthday was next week. How forgetful I was today. Another reason not to get reaped, because if I did, I would be celebrating my fifteenth birthday in the arena.
TALLIE DUNLOP'S POV
"Good morning mother," I said as my mom came down the stairs, fully decked out in pearls and special fabrics sent directly to my rich family from 8. When my mother first got them, she complained that the pollution would fade the vibrant colors, but I said it was a bunch of baloney. My mother's such an over-thinker, it's possibly because she was an orphan living in harsh conditions when she was little, but it's okay. I don't mind it that much; it just gets quite annoying sometimes. "Breakfast's in the fridge."
"No thanks dear, I'll pass," She said and fixed her cropped hair in the hall mirror. My expression drooped.
"But I made your favorite," I somewhat whined. My mother has loved sunny-side up bagels since she and my father got married. Sunny-side up bagels are a toasted bagel with a sunny-side up egg on top. I never have cared for eggs; I'm more of a noeggitarian than anything else. I even have to create my own word to describe me. How special am I.
"I'll eat it when I come back," She said and smiled. "See you at the reaping in ten minutes."
"'Kay. Bye mom." I gave a little wave and finished eating my cinnamon bran muffin. Yum. When I was done I ran upstairs to get the hairbrush – my hair was an utter rat's nest. And a nightmare to comb out as well. It's quite beautiful when it's finished, though. Long, ebony ringlets framing my bright chartreuse green eyes against my tan Latino skin. Beautiful, much more popping though than my best friend Babette's hair though. Her hair is pretty, but it's always lying flat on her shoulders or in a low-lying bun.
Babette Tilden has been my best friend since childhood. She's fourteen like me and lives with her mother and father in a small neighborhood down the street. Babette's that one quiet girl no one really bothers to talk to, but when you know her, she's extremely honest and loyal and sweet. I haven't seen her all week; she must be busy with her father's work.
Once I managed to mangle my hair into cooperating, I flattened my grey cotton cap-sleeved sundress in the mirror and walked out. It was an old dress my mother ordered for me two years ago. Back then, it was too small, but now it fits perfectly. It's quite beautiful, with an empire waistband, a row of buttons between my chest, and tiny vertical ruffles next to the buttons. It feels like I'm wearing cloud when it's on, especially in the wind. Although wearing cloud would be like being drenched in a pool when you're wearing a thin piece of tissue paper in the middle of winter.
But still.
When I looked at the clock, I realized it had taken me a whole eight minutes to brush my hair out. I was going to be late for the reaping! I bolted out my front door, not even locking it, and ran to the Square. Luckily, my parents purchased a house around the corner from it. When I reached there, I saw that everyone was already there. Crap. I squeezed my way through the crowd and hopped into the fourteen-year-old section with still no sign of Babette. Is she sick or something? Even then, no one's allowed to miss the reaping, despite his or her condition.
Out of nowhere, a girl with long black hair, pitch-brown (like pitch black but with brown) eyes, fake eyelashes with little glittering hearts speckled in them, and pale pink skin. Not to mention the onyx tattoos of crescent moons on her cheekbones. It was if she had materialized out of darkness, the night personified, but dipped in pink icing. The pink skin made me gag slightly.
"Welcome to the 101st Hunger Games, and may the odds be ever in your favor!" She announced and threw her arms up in the air, making her black, velvety sleeves fall down to her bony elbows. "My name is Myrkur, and I'm the escort for District 3 this year." She smiled a smiled dotted with gold, as if her teeth had flecks of gold in them, which they probably did, her being from the Capitol and all. "Let's start with the males this year instead."
Myrkur dug her hand around in the giant glass ball and pulled out a small, square-ish strip with curly handwriting on it. She tugged it open and read aloud in a semi-deep voice. "Sparky Forks."
I remember Sparky from the bakery last month. We met when my mother was buying croissants for breakfast the next morning. Me and him discussed baguettes until I had to leave. He seems like a nice guy, it's too bad he got reaped.
When he reached the podium, Myrkur dug her super-long ebony fingernails into his shoulders and asked for volunteers. When no one replied, it reminded me of something.
This year, I was going to volunteer.
Yes, I know. Most people from District 3 don't volunteer just to get in the games. Well, I'm going to stand out. I've been training like a Career to show that good tributes can come from my District. I want to befriend the Careers and become one. Then all my hard work and training will finally be worth something. I'm so caught up in my thoughts that I almost miss the girl's reaping.
"Luanda McWelsh," I heard Myrkur say. A tall, bulky girl about the age of sixteen with a terrified face made her way up to the podium. Before the escort could even finish her sentence, I proudly shouted out,
"I volunteer!"
Luanda's face flushed with relief and reluctantly hurried back down to her family as I walked the long cobblestone pathway to the stage. My parents' faces are probably horrified, but I still proudly told Myrkur my name and strode toward the Justice Building with out even needing to be told.
SPARKY FORKS'S POV
"Goodbye Mom, Dad, Merilla," I called out to my family as they left. It was hard to keep a straight face when Merilla came in. She kept crying and pleading me to come back. I couldn't help but tell her I would, even though I doubt I will, since competition is probably going to be fierce this year. It always is after a Quarter Quell. Every single year.
Bursting in the door only a few seconds after my parents' departure was my trusty group of friends. They all had mixed expressions: excited, scared, sorrowful, anxious, and exhausted all in one. Probably from running the whole way here. They all threw themselves onto the roughed up cotton couches and stared longingly into my face. It kind of creeped me out.
"Why are you all here?" I asked them, folding my hands over my lap. They all dug around in their pockets and pulled out something, but kept it clasped and hidden under their grasp.
"We all brought you something," Decca said and glanced at her friends. They all nodded at one another. Graham went first.
"Tada! I brought you a bottle of District 3 smog," Graham proudly said, pulling out a bottle of thick, swirling black smoke in a tiny bottle, no bigger than two inches, sealed with a baby cork. "Every time you're feeling homesick, just open the bottle up in your room and poof – instant home smell!" He laughed and handed the bottle over. "DON'T. SPILL. IT."
I lifted my arms up in defense. "I won't, I won't."
"I brought you your lighter," Rollo said and handed me the lighter they all made for me earlier. I took it and looked up at Rollo in shock. When did I lose this? "You dropped it on your way up to the stage. Don't want you to forget your District token!" Rollo grinned and kicked his feet up on the coffee table.
"Thanks Rollo, this will look great on my Capitol room mantle," I joked in a fake Capitol accent. That coaxed a few laughs out of them.
"I brought you a small bag of mint leaves," Chrissy said and held up a small sandwich bag full of mint leaves from the plants in my room. I wondered how she got them. "Use these instead of the Capitol mints. People say that Capitol mints are good, but nothing's as good as the real thing."
I promptly took the bag and put another on my tongue. "How could I ever repay you Chrissy?" Chrissy laughed and pushed her glasses back up on her nose. I looked over at Decca. "What about you Decca?"
Decca shrugged. "Hey I just brought the bag to carry this all in." She then pulled out a small purple velvet drawstring bag and dropped everyone's gifts into it. Then she pulled two pieces of durable fold thread together and tied them into a bow. "There," She said and handed it over to me. "Now you have a 'Home' bag. We know how homesick you can get."
I put the bag in my coat pocket, still fingering the rich, fabric-y surface. "Thanks. You guys are the best."
TALLIE DUNLOP'S POV
I got so much praise and scowl this morning. Happy comments for doing something so brave, but scold and frown for putting my life on the line just to be with the Careers. I took it all in without even saying a word. Not even to my parents, except a goodbye. I couldn't just leave without a proper farewell. It's unethical.
"TALLIEEEEEEEEEE!" I hear a loud wail come from outside the door and in pops Babette, her eyes watery with tears just threatening to spill over her lightly mascara-d lashes.
"Babette!" I exclaimed as she threw herself onto me in a hug. "What are you doing? I thought you were sick!" But when she lifted away and looked at me with those big brown eyes, I knew immediately that she was nothing close to sick. But heartbroken.
"How could you do this?" Babette said, several tears swimming happily down her rosy cheeks and spilling down onto her pale green silk dress. "To me? I can't live like this and – and just watch you starve and kill and die and – and – oh!" She broke into another wave of crying and buried her face in her hands. I peeled her away and sat her on the gray cotton couch across from me. Looking around for a tissue, I found none, so I pried off her white yarn chubby and handed it to her to dry her tears with.
"Shhh… Babette…" I soothed and ran my hand down the length of her long blonde hair. "It's okay…"
She wrestled out of my grip. "No, it's not!" She cried. "I'll never survive if you die in there Tallie! Never! Ever!"
I took my finger and wiped away one of her tiny tears. "Well, even if I die, you'll get to see me whoop some non-Career butt." She managed a weak smile. "I need you to have faith in me, Bab, or I'll never come back."
Babette sniffled. "Yeah, I understand…" She looked back at me with saddened orbs and sighed. Bab then looked down at her arm, where a sterling silver charm bracelet, glittering with several charms of all shapes and sizes, sat happily wound her wrist. With trembling fingers, she slid it off her hand and handed it to me. "Keep it."
I held it up to the dim light radiating from the table lamp. "You're giving me your charm bracelet? Why, Babette? You love this thing with all your heart."
Babette sniffled again, took the bracelet, and slid it onto my wrist. "Not as much as I love having you as my friend. Take it as a reminder of me, okay?" I nodded solemnly and hugged her one last time.
"Okay Bab, I will." With that, she exited the room, leaving me alone once more. Fingering a charm shaped like the moon in my index finger and thumb, waiting for the moment where I could leave.
And there you go. Special thanks to all my readers and submitters for sticking with me this far. You get virtual NON-OATMEAL RASIN cookies as well :O). As for my tributes so far, well, we'll see where my plot bunnies lead me.
If you are wondering why their escort's name is Myrkur, Myrkur is Icelandic for darkness. And no, I don't speak Icelandic. But Google Translate does.
Yes, thislittlemockingjay97, there were several aftershocks. But almost all of them were so small no one felt them. Except the one that woke me up at 3 in the morning today. It wasn't big, but it was enough to wake up a heavy sleeper like me. I slept through freaking hurricane Isabel, after all.
Sorry if this chappie was only of modest quality. I didn't sleep well last night. I didn't get to sleep until midnight, got woken up at 3 because of an aftershock, and then got woken up at seven because of a thunderstorm. Grrrr I hate natural phenomenon.
Enough of my rant, Read, Rate, Review, and keep on roasting.
~EnnixiaMaeLin
P.S. I just bought Alice: Madness returns. BEST. FREAKING. GAME. EVER. I suggest you all buy it if you're okay with severe violence and blood :) What? I can't help it if it's rated M. Smiley face.
