District One Male: Mica Lucidum
A baby boy cries out across a packed city center. He screams, lifting his tiny arms and reaching for his family, who stand on a platform overlooking their audience. His mother, Alexandra Lucidum, stands still and tall, holding her husband's hand as well as she could through the thick tassel of ropes imprisoning her from escaping. She is radiant, the epitome of a hero, as her tasseled red hair is blown behind her by the stormy weather above. The wind screeches in protest of her fate.
The baby boy catches a glimpse of his father just as a social worker lifts him up, and sees him - Mr. Jasper Lucidum. He is the only one speaking, as he curses the Capitol, curses the war, curses everyone idly watching this event. It's funny how he manages to find his courage now, at the end of the war, at the end of his days, and he finds a voice against everything he has ever known. He flips off the crowd and lifts his head up to face the sky, letting them know that even in death, his family was better than the tyranny to come.
Just as the social worker quickly walks away, separating the baby boy from his family, he sees his eleven-year-old sister, Jasper Lucidum, fighting against the ropes that held her back. She looked terrified, but she looked brave. She yelled for Mica, the baby boy, just as she saw him being taken away. She is sobbing, but she doesn't let the Capitol know that it is for her death. She faces the firing squad, the array of rifles dead in the eye, as if to notify them of the family they were about to kill, of the child they were about to orphan. Jasper makes sure that her blood forever stains their hands.
The baby boy is sobbing now, as he soon hears a flurry of gunshots play like a chaotic song without a melody, and he hears three bodies hit the floor. His mother was a rebel, and this was her execution. His father and sister were dead simply because of being related to her. And him? He was too young, so he was whisked away to an orphanage, destined to play in the cruel Hunger Games, destined to become what his mother hated.
Mica Lucidum wakes up immediately, panting. He runs his fingers through his messy hair, the long, black strands clinging to his sweaty chest. It was that same dream that's been happening since he was ten-years-old and out of the orphanage. Only this time, it was different. He never heard the gunshots before. He never knew...
He heads down to the training center of the Male Academy. He was one of the few in the residential program, so as the sun just shone through the windows, he was the only one there. Today was the Reaping Day, and he was already selected to volunteer for the Reaping. At first, it felt like an honor, but now there was something else lingering in the back of his mind, a voice whispering that this wasn't right. He simply shook it off as grogginess and a clouded thought, so he ran to the weight-lifting station to clear his head.
He stretched a bit before sitting down at the bench press, letting out a slow breath of air and feeling the weight directly above him. He was a quiet person in general, but everything around him was constant noise, the constant pressure for perfection and for manliness. When he lifted, everything was quiet, like him. Everything was just how he liked it, there were none of the trainers shouting at him to continue going, there were no girls gawking at his body. It was just him and the weights, and from afar, it was almost as if his family were still there.
When he was younger, he was a scrawny child, uncommon in a place like District One. His rib cage could be seen through his uniform, and his chicken legs were the subject of the ridicules and taunts of his bullies. He bulked up during his teenage years, after moving out of the orphanage, but sometimes he is that young boy without a family, without riches. Sometimes he is the young boy being called a rat from his own teachers. That wasn't perfection, and so he lifted another weight.
It would be another half-hour before others would come swarming in, teenage boys hooting and hollering like the heathens their fathers raised them to be. Mica sighed, dropping his weight and heading to the locker room. He promised Rose that he would meet up with her before the Reaping, anyways.
He quickly changes out of his training uniform - which consisted of a tank top and gym shorts - in favor of a white button-down with black pants. The locker room smells of sweaty pits and overdone cologne, and the sight of boys coming into the locker room encourages Mica to leave as soon as possible. After arranging his belt, he puts on his tattered dress shoes in a hurry. He couldn't be late to meet with Rose.
He runs out of the training center and towards the small park at the edge of the city, the one with the Cherry Blossom trees and the ivy growing on the old cobblestone fountain. Rose looks up, her green eyes glistening as she jumps into his arms and hugs him tightly. Mica giggles at the sight of his girlfriend's affections, and nestles into her arms a bit more. They release each other, and sit down side by side, as they watch them set up the tall Reaping stadium a mile further.
"You're late. You haven't been sleeping in again, right?" Rose teases, poking him jokingly.
"Ha, ha, ha. You're hilarious," Mica states dryly, keeping a straight face. However, he knew that on the inside, he was grinning from ear to ear. Rose was the only person Mica could trust, so she knew everything about him. Ever since they met on Co-Ed Night (a night where both males and females from their respected academies join together in the city center and spar, train, or mingle), the two have been inseparable, eventually coming into a romantic relationship. Mica was quiet, and Rose allowed him to open up. Rose was giddy, and Mica allowed for her to become serious where it counted. So, she knew about his sleeping problems, about his past, about how he was going to volunteer. In return, Mica knew about Rose's missing father, about her sister's glorious life as a victor.
"I can't believe you're volunteering today. It feels like just yesterday you were fifteen and begging your trainer not to."
"Yeah, I remember that day," Mica laughs, "I got into so much trouble. Luckily I've changed since then." Rose places a hand on his chest, snuggling up closer to him.
"You're going to come home to me, as I will when I volunteer next year. I'll come home to you," Rose asserts, and they stay together for what feels like an eternity. Mica gently pushes her light brown hair behind her ear, placing a flower in its place. In his eyes, the flower could match her lilac dress, but could not match Rose's beauty or charm. He wasn't even good enough for Rose. But once he won the Hunger Games, then they would be perfect together. He looks at her once more, kissing her softly on the lips, before getting up to head to the Reaping. Rose stirs from her brief nap, seeing Mica leave with groggy eyes. She reaches out to him.
"Stay," she murmurs, and Mica catches her gaze. He chuckles.
"I have to leave for the Reaping."
"No, silly," Rose says, pushing her body in an upwards sitting position, "Stay alive, for me. Promise me you'll come back home."
Mica runs over, extending his pinky. Rose returns his gesture.
"I promise."
He watches as Amanda Snow, the brat from the Female Academy, glides over to the stage, blowing kisses at the crowd, confident that she was going to be the victor.
That'll be Rose next year, and she'll be ten times as beautiful as Amanda could ever hope to become.
Piper Tamora, the escort for District One, bats her butterfly eyelashes as she reaches for the male name. She pulls it out, looks out into the crowd, and announces the name "Garnet Hue?" She waits for the volunteer to emerge.
Almost immediately, as if it was an instinct, Mica shouts "I VOLUNTEER!" He glares at the others in the crowd, regaining his threatening composure. Once he reaches the stage, he finds Rose who blows a kiss towards him, letting him know that she was going to find him afterward. He shakes hands with Amanda, who winks at him. Revolted, he finalizes the ceremony earlier than expected and walks to the Waiting Room.
A couple of trainers, some friendly acquaintances, and other "friends" came to visit him, patting him on the back, or fist-bumping with him in support. It was all a game for them, someone to root for in the Games. The moment he sees Rose, however, shyly hiding behind the door for them to leave, he dismisses everyone. He swoops her in his arms, kissing her until they're panting and he realizes there's only one minute left.
"I know there isn't much time, but I have to give you this." She holds out a silver ring, and he takes it, trying it on and seeing that it fits him perfectly.
"Is it that kind of ring?" Mica asks, winking at her. She giggles, punching him in the shoulder gently.
"No! It's your token, for you to remember me by." She looks up at him with tears in her eyes, and he can't help but regret everything right there and then. They could have had a wonderful life without all of this. He didn't have to volunteer. He could have-
The clock strikes. The guards rush in, telling them that it was time to go. He rushes to hug her, to hold her in his arms for what could possibly be the last time.
"Promise me," she exclaims, and he holds out his pinky once more, and she returns the favor.
Somewhere, Evaline Ross watches the District One Reaping unfold. Behind her, she hears her fellow coworkers gush over Amanda and Mica, over who was going to win, over how good-looking and muscular they were, over every petty thing to be told.
Evaline doesn't care about the trivial factors. She studies them both, two possible rebels in their precious Career districts. However, instead of scowling, she smiles.
This would make for an interesting Games.
Sorry for not posting at all last week. Hopefully, this chapter makes up for it. District One, I feel, is cursed, and will forever doom me to rewrite chapters. This document got lost so many times, in the end, this was the result. However, I do like it better than Amanda's, if I am to be honest. Let me know what you think of Mica, and what you think of this chapter. More information about him will be coming soon, rest assured.
Anyways, next up, we have our District Three Female. I'm going to get her up this week, I promise you that. Please, please, please. Help me out here. I have a couple of tribute spots open that I really need submissions for. Users such as upsettomcat, Imagination Stories, and Nightcat have helped me out immensly in this process, and they do deserve quite a bit of credit. I'd like to thank anyone for reviewing, or submitting a tribute because it honestly means so much to me, and the sooner we get this story rolling, the better it gets.
That's all for now. Signing off!