OK! NOBODY READ UNTIL YOU DO THIS (or read first and then go check it out, but JUST CHECK IT OUT!)
A loyal reader, Axe Smelling God, has created a blog for the 77th Games! On there are model representations of the tributes, basic stats about them, and little goodies for the Games coming up. The blog will be an ongoing process throughout the Games and will be updated accordingly. Big round of applause for Axe Smelling God. I love it and you guys should love it too!
The link to it is on my profile, under my current status and under Fan Stuff. Here's the link now, but you might have trouble since Fanfiction isn't a fan of full websites in chapters. You know the drill, just delete the spaces and put http in front of the :
: / / 77thhungergamesthedammed . blogspot . c o m
On with the story!
Chapter 3 The Oppressed Souls
District 5
"You got it?"
Colby looked at Jory with a hint of annoyance. "Of course I do." he replied. "I told you earlier, didn't I? You could count on me."
Jory rolled her eyes, her favorite expression to use. Colby was a lot of things and 'unreliable' was one of them. Still, he seemed to have pulled this off, judging by his stupid smirk.
Sophia and Alexis, the two others in their group of misfits, looked surprised as well. "So where is it?" Sophia asked bluntly.
Cautiously, Colby checked around the corner of the damp ally way they were in. When the coast was clear, Colby turned to his friends and pulled out a box of rolled and stuffed papers from his pocket.
"The guy who sold them said they were top quality cigarettes." Colby explained, his pride on full displayed. "Got them at a great price too."
"I bet it's still shit compared to the real stuff." Jory said, hating pride on anyone. "And that he tells everyone his shitty products are top quality. Did he make you pay twenty for them?"
Sophia giggled as Colby looked upset at Jory. He didn't bother to reply that he had to pay higher than twenty for them, knowing that Jory would rip him apart for it. "You're welcome, by the way." he managed, his anger sounding weak. "It wasn't easy getting my hands on this, by the way."
"Oh please." Jory countered, grabbed the pack from his hands. "The Peacekeepers don't care about the black market this week. They're to busy getting ready for the Reaping."
Colby looked even more downtrodden then usually, especially hurt by Jory's harsh words. Without another glance at him, Jory reached into her tattered pocket and pulled out a damaged lighter. "Stole it from the store." Jory said, in reference to the lighter. "Their prices are ridiculous anyways."
"They're only ridiculous because of the Capitol. You know that right?" Alexis said, his voice soft and controlled like an educator.
All of them knew that, and that cigarettes were deemed illegal. The four fifteen year olds didn't know if that ban applied to all Districts or just District 5, but none of them really cared. Anything beyond the borders of District 5 seemed pointless to worry about. It wasn't like they would ever be able to visit them anyways.
In fact, none of them fully understood their desire to try such a dangerous substance. The four teens were not backwater, outlier kids with no education. They knew full well the risks that tobacco consumption brought. The only explanation that Jory could muster was that it was an act of rebellion on their part. It was the only way that they could currently defy the Capitol.
Even though they didn't know what substitute the dealer had used to replace natural tobacco.
And that they were conducting their 'rebellion' in the early morning, in a back ally, with sewage overflowing from some nearby pipes.
'How brave of us.' Jory thought bitterly.
"So, who wants to go first?" Alexis asked.
Jory looked at him, rolling her eyes at his timid nature. He hadn't changed much from when she first found him, surrounded by bullies and completely helpless. Jory wasn't one for bullies and quickly chased them off. Her anger towards them was only redirected towards Alexis, as she besmirched him for acting so cowardly and not standing up for himself. Alexis had actually argued back at Jory, at least attempting to defend himself. It surprised Jory so much that she gained some respect for the boy, enough to keep him around at least.
"I'll go." Jory said, pulling out a cigarette from the dirty packet. She placed it in between her lips and handed the packet to Sophia, who pulled one out as well. With a flick, a small flame erupted and lit the tip of the cigarette. Jory wasn't entirely sure what she was supposed to do, but figured that inhaling was a good start. She took a long drag from the cigarette, feeling the smoke fill her lungs, along with warmth spreading through her body. There was a moment too where she felt totally relaxed, a smile coming to her face.
Then a fit of coughing began and the moment was ruined.
Sophia giggled softly and took the lighter from Jory's trembling, olive skinned hands. "My turn." she announced, lighting up quickly.
The packet was passed around, each of them finishing off their respective cigarettes within minutes. Jory coughed harshly as she finished, stuffing the remaining cigarettes in her pocket. She didn't think she'd ever smoke again, but the option was always nice to have.
The four teens talked for a while among themselves, discussing anything that wasn't related to the upcoming Reaping. Not that there was much to talk about, and the teens soon found themselves forced to discuss pointless teen drama. Who was dating who, who was failing school, who was having sex and who wasn't, it was the same bullshit as always and it annoyed Jory to no end.
Finally, she had enough and dismissed herself from the group. The rest of the group took her cue and began to disperse back to their homes. Sophia walked with Jory, their shacks of homes close by. Behind them, Alexis had already left, but Colby remained in place, staring at Jory with puppy dog eyes.
Sophia gave him and then Jory a look. "So Colby seemed off or something." Sophia stated.
Jory rolled her eyes, knowing she couldn't stop the inquisition. "He wants more from our arrangement." Jory replied.
"Really? I thought you guys were already having sex?" Sophia said, instantly picking up on what that 'more' was.
"Of course we aren't." Jory shot back, anger flashing crossing her features. She knew it misplaced though. Colby and her were in a 'all sexual, no feelings' relationship, but Jory wasn't able to find herself committing to the sexual part. Perhaps she just found Colby so inadequate that the thought him inside of her made her want to kill herself.
'Yeah… that's probably what it is…' Jory thought to herself.
"He wants a relationship, actually." She commented.
Sophia laughed. "Colby? That sounds odd of him." She said, pausing a moment before following up. "And what do you want?"
Jory shrugged. "To be honest, I'm bored with him."
Sophia rolled her eyes. "You're always bored, Jory." she said.
It was true. Jory had a hard time paying attention to things. Her mom and dad had dismissed it as a mid-puberty thing, her simply going through the motions of growth and maturity. But Jory knew they were wrong, this was who she was.
Life was just so tiring and predictable. Jory only had to look around her to find out what her life would come too. She would spend the rest of her life living the dumps, unable to obtain any type of 'golden future' that all her teachers promised she would get. The highest spot she could get was factory manager. If she worked hard. Extremely hard. Despite how idiotic it was, there was a certain prejudice against Jory and the fellow citizens of her section of District 5.
District 5 was divided into various 'Nodes', each of these Nodes specializing in a specific type of energy source. The richest Node was the Solar Node, where the skies were almost constantly blue and the surrounding area relatively green. It offered the best lifestyle, where workers were paid the highest, lived the most comfortably, and got some escape from the constricting city. It was so beautiful that the Justice Building and Victor Village were located there. The next richest was the Wind Node, then the Hydro Node, the Coal/Oil Node, and then Jory's Node, the Nuclear Node.
And surrounding the various nuclear reactors there was Radon Town, the poorest area of District 5.
The area was called that because it looked as though a bomb had dropped on the town. In fact, Radon Town did have bombs dropped on it during the Dark Days, completely obliterating the area. The town used to have large, imposing buildings made of stone and beautiful gardens throughout. All of that was gone though, the stone buildings turned to rumble and sad reminders of grander times while the gardens turned to ash. The homes were now shacks or tents, most citizens living in the dirt and around garbage fires. Most people died from disease, or even burns from the reactor. The majority in Radon were either homeless or factory workers. Anyone of note lived in a different Node, taking the District trolley to and from work everyday.
Since there was such a large social stigma against anyone from Radon, Jory wouldn't be respected by workers in the other Nodes. Three generations of her family had tried to escape Radon; all of them had failed spectacularly. Jory didn't want to spend her life reaching for a spot in society she would never receive. She'd rather get comfortable early in life so she wouldn't be too upset in twenty years.
If she even survived that long. Crime was becoming a major problem in District 5, specifically in the Nuclear Node. But since it was largely confined there, to the poorest of the poor, no Peacekeepers or government officials felt much need to act.
"See you at the Reaping?" Jory asked, tone noncommittal as they walked past her house.
"Doubt it," Sophia replied. "It's my sister's first year so I'm going to be dealing with her."
"Say no more." Jory said. "I'll let you deal with that alone."
They waved goodbye and Jory entered her slum house. It was only seven in the morning, but already the Edmonds house active with life. The house itself was only two rooms, so no one slept when one person was awake. As she entered, her four other family members turned to look at their youngest member.
"And where were you, young lady?" Jory's mother asked.
Jory shrugged. "Out with Sophia."
"At this hour?" she asked.
"Why not?"
Jory's mother stopped, too flustered to continue grilling her daughter. Meanwhile, her older brothers, Hermes and Simon, looked at her knowingly, one approving and the other disapproving. Her father said nothing, his eyes lost in thought.
"As usual, we don't have much for food." Jory's mother continued. "You'll have to wait until after the Reaping to eat."
"Ok." Jory replied simply.
"And we're leaving for trolley in half hour. Go wash and put on your dress, now."
Sighing at all that work, Jory made her way to the backyard where the tub was. She spared her brothers a glance, both of them looking so similar yet so dissimilar in attitude.
Hermes, twenty years old, was different from everyone in Radon. So upbeat and always thinking about a better tomorrow. When Jory was younger she used to enjoy listening to her brother's tales about a better future, how with hard work and preservation they could one day be rich and live comfortably. Now that she was older, Jory saw that Hermes was nothing but an idiot.
Simon, on the other hand, she could sympathize more with. Simon was more in tuned with Jory's mindset, even though he was a year younger than Hermes. Jory always thought that Simon was bored. Just like her, he couldn't really focus on one thing for too long. He also liked participating in things that were deadly to his health and safety. Apparently, it was the only way he could feel anything anymore. One year, Jory had jokingly said he could get a good rush from the Games. Simon had almost volunteered that year, only saved by Hermes's watching eye.
Walking into her backyard, a dirt plot of land with a broken fence around it, Jory went over to the family's bathtub. She looked at the dirty, possibly irradiated, water with disgust. She'd just skip the bath today. It wasn't like it made much a difference anyways. She couldn't scrub away the smell of poor no matter how hard she tried.
Jory re-entered the house, finding her dress laid out for her in the spare room. It had been her mother's when she was Jory's age, the size and similar taste all to close. They apparently had looked very similar in their youth with the same olive skin, short unruly black hair, and wiry frame.
Thinking of her hair, Jory turned to look at her family's smashed mirror. It's broken patterns were similar to how Jory felt about life. So distorted, so out of context and place, so tiresome to fix. Part of her wanted to be interested in things, wanted to care about the lives of others, but she just couldn't. She felt a defeatist attitude.
Wake up, maybe eat, go to school, skip it, come home, sleep, and repeat. Continue until she was eighteen, where she'd get a boring job working in the nuclear facility, replacing the last chump who dropped dead due to radiation poisoning. No variety, no hope for change. Most would label her a pessimist, some would even go so far as to hate her for her thoughts, perhaps claiming her cold hearted bitch. But Jory knew her mentality was not unique or a product of her puberty, it was the mentality of the entire Radon, possibly even the entire District.
Nothing would change. The cycle of despair and poverty would continue to spin.
And spin…
And spin until they all dropped dead…
'What do you want to do today, Fuze?'
Fuze sat on his dingy bed, the trace amounts of light from the boarded up window filtering in. "It's Reaping day today." he mumbled.
'I know that...' the voice said. 'I'm worried about it.'
"I'm not." Fuze announced proudly. "My name isn't in there too many times."
'But if you get Reaped... then I'll have to go with you...'
"No you wouldn't." Fuze said. "You'll stay behind! Only I'll go in the arena! I'll probably die... but... but at least you'll still be alive, Lighter."
'You still don't get it? I am you! Lighter is Fuze! Fuze is Lighter!'
"You're not making any sense." Fuze said, reaching over to his small desk next to his bed. His hands wrapped around a small bottle with grey pills rattling around inside. "I think it's time for you to rest, Lighter."
'DON'T YOU DARE PUT THAT PILL IN YOUR MOUTH, YOU WORTHLESS PIECE OF SHIT!'
Fuze paused for a moment, gasping in shock. This sort of anger had started to become more commonplace, ever since his parents had gotten him those pills. Apparently, Lighter wasn't allowed to be his imaginary friend anymore. Fifteen year olds weren't supposed to have them, according to his dad. His parents promised him that Lighter would be ok by himself and that Fuze would be too. But Lighter didn't seem to want to leave, even if Fuze took the pills. He always came back, screaming at him and calling him mean names.
Still, Fuze down the pill quickly and before long, Lighter was gone from his mind. Fuze breathed a sigh of relief, suddenly realizing how tightly he had been gripping himself. As he released his grasp, Fuze noticed drop of blood around his arm. He gazed at it, surprised though comforted. Something about blood made him feel better, like all the bad things in his life were being dispersed from his body whenever he bled.
Or other people bled… that was always more fun to watch…
Now more relaxed, Fuze got up from his bed and walked into the kitchen of his home. His family lived in the Solar Node, their moderate wealth on good display for all to see. They lived in a rented out apartment complex, but there was enough of their own items in there to claim the area as their own.
His parents were currently out working, finishing up the last hours of a grueling night shift. Usually one of them stayed behind to make sure that Fuze was safe from Lighter, but recently money had become tight and both were forced to pick up shifts on their jobs. Not that Fuze minded, he always thought his parents too overbearing to handle sometimes.
He did hope they got back before he had to go to the Reaping. His name was hardly in the bowl, but it still terrified him. Fuze knew that if he were Reaped, he would be going to his death. Lighter tried to tell him he would survive because he could kill people easily. Fuze didn't believe him really. Sure, he had killed some rats before, but never a human. Rats were scum, unlike people. Though he knew a lot of people in the Solar Node who said that people from the Nuclear Node were scum too.
Not that he knew a lot of people. Fuze was never big on making friends. Lighter was all he needed really, even if he was super mean sometimes. Lighter and him, against the world! It was a fun thought to consider!
Fuze remembered on dream he had, where he and Lighter, who looked exactly like him except with black hair instead of red, were running through the District, rejoicing in the fact they were the only two people in it.
'Where is everybody else?' Fuze had asked.
'They're all dead!' Lighter answered happily, his perfectly white teeth forming a large smile. 'We killed them! Now it's just you and me!'
They had danced for ages, jumping over corpse of those they had once known. Fuze's parents, the mayor, workers, other tenants in the complex, even a few bullies who had hurt Fuze when he was younger. He liked seeing them dead.
Fuze suddenly began having happy thoughts about the Reaping. Maybe one of his childhood bullies would be Reaped! Then he could have his guts splattered across the arena by a scary Career! That would show him! And Lighter would be so happy!
Fuze suddenly missed Lighter… it became so lonely without his comforting voice. Fuze went back to his room and grabbed the bottle of pills, looking at them like they were poison. He rushed to the bathroom and tossed them down the waterless toilet, laughing as they slide down the grimy pipes.
Lighter would be back soon… just in time for the Reaping!
The mood in the District's main city was as it always was, depressed and lethargic. Jory felt like she should hate it for that reason, but it was honestly the same as in Radon. Though in Radon, it was a lot dirtier, more depressing, and instead of proper toilets, they had dug out latrines.
Her family said their goodbyes to Jory, wishing her luck. Jory felt confident she wouldn't be Reaped, though was painfully aware the amount of times her name was in the Reaping bowl. She was the only child still eligible for the Reaping, thus the only one who could take out tesserae. Hermes and Simon had done their tours, now it was her turn to support the family.
Jory stepped into check in line, sighing when she noticed how long it was. She was still several blocks from the Justice Building, forcing her to wait a half hour before checking in. Jory finally did so, taking her place in the fifteen year old section without fuss. She inadvertently ended up next to some girls from the Solar Node, who looked at her torn and color washed dress with disgust. One of them whispered a comment to the others, causing them all to giggle at Jory. In response, Jory spit on the girl, who screeched and ran away.
"You should be ashamed of yourself!" another girl said.
Jory rolled her eyes. "You should fuck off." She replied casually, looking at her dirt cased nails in boredom.
Another huff of indignation and the rest of the girls left Jory alone. Within twenty minutes, the entire yard was filled with scared children as the Reaping began. The mayor stepped forward and read off the Treaty of Treason, looking for tired and older than she actually was. After the propaganda video, which still showed the silly image of the triumphant Victor, the escort stepped up to the microphone.
"Greetings District 5!" the escort shouted, her gear glasses wobbling on her nose. "Happy 77th Hunger Games!"
Jory drowned her out after that, imagining what would happen if she ran up to the stage and punched the escort in the face. It would be comical in a way and make her feel better, but Jory was certain she'd also get executed for it. For someone as pathetic as this Capitolite, it certainly wasn't worth it.
The escort finished whatever she was talking about and walked over to the Reaping bowl, the male one first. "We want to be unique, don't we District 5?" she asked.
No one responded, though all the boys began tensing up. Jory closed her eyes, silently hoping that Alexis wouldn't be Reaped. Or Colby she supposed.
A slip of paper was pulled from the bowl, followed by the announcement at the microphone.
"Fuze DeLumiere!"
Jory blew out a sigh of relief. She wouldn't be losing a friend this year. An odd sound reached her ears and she turned to see that a boy had emerged from the fifteen year old section laughing. Jory scrutinized him, finding him an odd looking fellow. He was dressed rather nicely, with a white long sleeve shirt and black pants with nice dress shoes that all seemed tailored to him. The upkeep of his clothing, along with his posture and clean appearance, told Jory that he must have been from Solar. He was probably from an upper class family, though most of those didn't name their child something as basic as 'Fuze'. Maybe this boy's family had become poor before he was born and they were desperately trying to cling to their old lifestyle through careful grooming.
Or he could have been gay. Jory was always told that gay people had a tendency to try to look nice.
With further thought, she doubted it. He didn't seem the type anyways. In fact, he looked rather deranged and off balance. While his reddish-brown hair was well combed, the rest of his face seemed a disorganized mess. His eyes darted every direction, his chin was shaky, and heavy bags rested under his eyes. He seemed to be muttering something, but Jory and the cameras on him were too far away to pick it up.
As he ascending the stage, the microphone picked up his jumble of words. The escort looked at him curiously, though still managed a pleasant smile. "How are you, sweetie?" she asked.
"Not special." Fuze said, his laughing lowering in tone. He looked away from the escort, looking like he was listening to someone else talk.
"Really?" the escort asked confused. "You've just been Reaped for the Games. I think that makes you special!"
"I guess you're right." Fuze said, addressing some invisible entity. He turned back to the escort, smiling with her. "I am special, actually! So special that I can win!"
"That's wonderful! Don't you just love this boy's confidence?" the escort said, addressing the audience and cameras. "Now, how about the girls?"
The escort quickly went to the girl's bowl, knowing full well that something was off about Fuze. The quicker she got him off stage, the better. Drawing a name, the escort moved back to the microphone and read off the slip's name.
"Jory Edmonds!"
For the first time in a long time, Jory felt true fear.
She felt overwhelmed by emotion.
She felt suffocated by death's coming embrace.
Slowly, Jory stepped out of her section and made her way towards the stage. Peacekeepers breathed down her back, their expressions hidden under their visors but batons on full display. She climbed up the stairs even slower, one of the Peacekeepers forced to push her up the last few steps. The escort held out a hand, but quickly withdrew it when she saw the dirty state of Jory's hands. Jory was a sharp contrast to Fuze in appearance. Poor, dirty, and in total shock.
"Now then," the escort continued once Jory had taken her spot. "Any volunteers?"
As expected, no one volunteered. Suddenly, Jory felt a pang of hatred for her District. Nobody could be bothered to help her, couldn't even be bothered to show at least any care that she was being sent to her death. Sophia hadn't even tried to volunteer! Jory would have shot her down, obviously, but the gesture would have been counted.
Or would she have been dismissive?
She wasn't quite sure.
The escort commanded the two tributes to shake hands, which they did so quickly. Jory winced when she felt the sweaty feel of Fuze's hand against her's, though she couldn't blame him. She was sure her hand felt the same. As they shook, Fuze leaned in closer to Jory.
"Lighter says you're going to die."
Jory looked at the boy angrily, her grip tightening around his hand in the process. Fuze gasped at the sudden pain, while the escort brought them apart. "You're tributes for the 77th Games, District 5! Jory Edmonds and Fuze DeLumiere!"
"Why did you say her name first?" Fuze suddenly asked. "You Reaped me first!"
The escort huffed in annoyance and pushed both of the tributes into the Justice Building. The heavy doors closed behind them, sealing their fates as this years tributes.
District 6
In the last hours of night, the unsubtle sound of hovercrafts could be heard above the wrecked District 6. Bright searchlights shined from underneath the craft, illuminated every inch it was laid upon. Beggars and drunks were shocked awake by the light, some gasping with joy as they thought for a blurry moment that heaven had accepted them. Their spirits were then crushed once the judgmental light moved on, looking for its next victim.
While the hovercrafts flew overhead, contingents of Peacekeepers marched through District 6's ruined streets. The previous months, since the death of the Kale family, had led to major upheaval in the District. The District had been on a downward spiral for quite sometime, with demand for modes of transportation decreasing. Since that was the Districts main and only industry, the society of the District began to collapse. Jobs were lost, money was lost, the people became lost.
Their rage had first been directed towards the Kale family, their hatred towards them and their spoiled son the easiest target of hate for them. Watching their son get his neck snapped in the Games only soothed their anger slightly, as allegation of his 'rapist' activities began to spread. But once the Kale family was killed, reportedly by the matriarch's hand, the District quickly turned on the Capitol. Riots became commonplace, along with all the chaos they brought. They were allowed to continue for almost a week, only highlighting the growing unimportance of the District in the Capitol's eye. The rebellious citizens were beaten down eventually, the District once more stuck under the heavy thumb of Head Peacekeeper Edrick.
But those things hardly mattered to Trent Bell as he had come up with a brilliant idea.
Risking discovery past curfew, Trent made his way through the dark streets of his District. Occasionally he ducked into the sewers, helped along by several jaded and confused homeless people who had been driven underground. They would point to his destination when asked, staring at the boy's large backpack with curiosity. Some thought to rob him, but the shape of the pack suggested that it contained mechanical items. It had been a long time since anyone had paid for parts, they were cheaper to come by than food these days.
Finally, Trent reached his destination. Running up to the boarded up house, Trent moved around the side and began knocking on the window there. There was no response so Trent tried again, this time faster. A few seconds later, a pair of worried eyes peered from beyond the curtains, only calming they saw the fourteen year old boy smiling at them.
The curtains flew open, though the two figures were still separated by a window and metal protective bars. The girl inside the house, fourteen years of age with black hair and furious eyes, looked at the boy with worry.
"Trent?" she mouthed.
Trent nodded his head, his black bangs coming down over his slanted eyes. He pushed the hair back, hiding it under his trademark red beanie. Trent pointed to the bag on his back, his smile spreading across his face.
"I got something!" he mouthed back.
Dasheen Norton, or Dash, the girl inside, looked at her friend angrily. "The curfew!" she mouthed, allowed some noise to escape in rage.
Trent shrugged. "This is worth it!"
Dash bit her lip, clearly angry that Trent had put her in a tough spot. Her parents barred the front door every night, afraid that robbers would enter in the night to claim what little they had. Even with the heavy Peacekeeper presence, people were still drawn to crime. More so than ever, as food and money were both absent for most.
Reluctantly, Dash waved Trent to her front door. As Trent moved to it, Dash snuck out of her room, past her parents, and quickly opened the door for Trent. As soon as he was inside, Dash locked and boarded it again before bringing Trent to her room.
Once that door was shut, Dash turned expectantly to Trent. "What is it?" she demanded.
Trent smiled happily, opening up his pack to show case his masterpiece. It was a small metal box with a slot like opening in the top of it.
Dash almost screamed when she recognized what it was.
The look of surprise on her face was misinterpreted by Trent though, who looked excitedly at his friend. "Isn't it cool? I was working on it all night!"
Dash breathed heavily, trying to find proper words. "It's a toaster." she stated, an edge to her voice.
Trent nodded his head.
"You risked getting shot by Peacekeepers," Dash began, "risked getting me shot by Peacekeepers, to show me a toaster?"
Trent narrow eyes widened, realization hitting him. "This is bad, isn't it?" he asked.
"TINKER BELL!" Dash whispered harshly.
Face reddening, Trent glared back angrily at Dash for using his nickname. It had been some bully's ploy to make fun of his love for messing with gadgets, his last name, and how his face got red when angry in fell swoop. Trent absolutely hated the nickname.
"I thought you'd like this!" Trent protested.
"It's a toaster. You can buy those at any store." Dash countered.
"But this is different! I made it from a different material and it doesn't have to be plugged into an outlet!"
That got Dash's attention. "Really?" she asked.
Trent held up the toaster, showing her the bottom of it and the protective case there. "See this?" he asked, pointing to a small little hatch. "I just put a battery in here and tadaa! You can toast stuff!"
Dash was impressed, though her anger still present. "Does it even work?" she asked.
"Of course it does! I wouldn't have come here if it didn't!" Trent said, pulling out a piece of toast from his pack. "See? Toasted!"
Even in the darkness, Dash could tell that the toast was darker than it should have been. "This is burnt." Dash said, laying a hand on its over crisped exterior.
"Well... yeah... so the toaster kind of works, at least."
Dash looked at the toaster, then back at Trent. Before long, both of them were giggling, both realizing how flawed Trent's toaster was. As their giggling subsided, Dash's face turned serious. "But really, Trent, you shouldn't be sneaking out this late. Or sneaking out at all!"
"I know, I know..." Trent said, eyes widening as he realized something. "My parents! Crap! They're going to be angry!"
"No kidding." Dash mumbled, "But I'm not letting you leave so you'll have to wait until morning."
Trent fidgeted uncomfortably, already imagining the rage his parents would fly into. He was tempted to just ignore Dash and leave, but then thought better. Dash was pretty strong and could probably drag him back inside. She had to, always serving as the one to drag Trent back from his crazy schemes.
Without another word, Dash got on her bed, covering herself in a scratchy blanket. She had a small pillow too, but not another to offer Trent. He didn't mind, he was used to sleeping uncomfortably. He wasn't even that great of a sleeper anyways, his mind always abuzz with new ideas and schemes. It was so tough to stay focused on one thing, which always seemed to cause his parents issues.
They wanted him to follow in his dad's footsteps and become a hovercraft engineer. It was a good job, one of the higher paying ones in the District that would afford people a good living. The problem with that dream though was it required Trent to do a lot of studying, something he absolutely hated doing. He understood the value of education, but at the same time found the entire process to be long and rather annoying. Trent preferred to learn from doing rather than some boring teacher lecturing at him.
It wasn't the same with his older brother Aston, who at twenty four was a genius with mechanics. Trent loved him, but couldn't help but feel resentment towards his brother. He was such a 'in the box' thinker, always wanting to stay with traditional schools of thought instead of being innovative himself. And he was rewarded for being a follower!
"Are there a lot of people outside tonight?" Dash asked suddenly.
Trent nodded his head. "A lot of homeless people." He said, his voice trailing off. Dash suddenly regretted asking the question. They both knew what happened to homeless people these nights. Head Peacekeeper Edrick had somehow managed to find every psychopathic Peacekeeper in Panem and had them brought to District 6, promising them all the blood and suffering they wanted. As part of that promise, Edrick allowed for his men, after they completed their duties, to go out at night and harass the homeless. Every morning, people would find a body, beaten to death, with faces twisted in horror.
Such was the state of District 6, a Peacekeeper run District now. The factories were still at work, but just barely. They were now mostly producing spare parts, which were shipped off for repair jobs. Meanwhile, their local government stood without mayor. President Snow didn't seem to care to much about appointing a new one, rather enjoying Edrick's ability to inspire fear and rule at the same time.
Trent tried to close his eyes and sleep, preparing for tomorrow's Reaping and the wrath he would find at home.
The banging began shortly after the tortured man stumbled into their store.
"By authority of Head Peacekeeper Edrick, I hereby order you to open this door!" an angry voice screamed from the other side of the door.
'They're asking? That's a surprise.' Flux Arello thought to herself. Before she could open the door though, a heavy boot collided with the handle and sent the rickety door off its handles. Flux pretended to look surprised and terrified, the latter easier than the first, as Peacekeepers stormed into the store. The first and only one not wearing a helmet, obviously the leader, approached Flux with intensity. He was a large man with short, buzzed hair and dark skin, his eyes a similar color. Flux knew nothing about the man, but could already tell that he was a monster.
"I am Officer Darius." the Peacekeeper announced, "We have reason to believe that a fugitive is being sheltered here."
"F-fugitive?!" Flux screamed, her head turning towards the stores back. "Daddy! Daddy come here!"
Darius grabbed Flux by the arm and dragged her close, "I did not ask for your father, girl!" he shouted. "I asked you."
"There isn't one here!" Flux pleaded. "Daddy!"
With a firm push, Darius pushed Flux away into a nearby self. The tin cans fell from the shelf and hit the ground, denting the canned produce badly. Flux's father, Pin, appeared from the back and rushed to his daughter's side, only to be stopped when Darius grabbed him and held him against the wall. The other Peacekeepers with Darius grabbed Flux and forced her to her knees, one of them drawing a switch whip.
Darius looked at Pin, rage blazing in his eyes. "You have a fugitive here, don't you?" he asked, his tone threatening.
"Of course we don't! We know the penalty!" Pin shouted, "Please, I'm begging you, let my daughter go! We're just manning the shop! We don't have any fugitives here!"
Darius was unconvinced. "You tell me where you've hidden the fugitive and I'll let your daughter remain unharmed. Well, relatively."
"Daddy?" Flux breathed, fear in her voice. "T-tell them we don't have a fugitive! Tell them-AHHH!"
The switch was brought down across Flux's back, causing her to scream in agony. The stinging sensation quickly spread through her body, sending her into a near state of paralysis. "NO!" Pin screamed, as his daughter began to fall, only to have her body adjusted upright by the Peacekeepers.
"You know I can do worse!" Darius shouted. "Now tell me where the fugitive is!"
Pin kept his mouth shut, followed by another blow from the switch to Flux. She screamed out in pain once more, tears falling from her eyes.
"I swear... there isn't anybody here!" Pin whimpered. "P-please just let my girl go... she hasn't done anything!"
Looking between father and daughter, Darius could see that these two pathetic people didn't have the information he was looking for. This store was only the first stop of a sweep of the neighborhood anyways. The longer he wasted time here, the more likely the fugitive would escape. "Let her go and check in the back." Darius ordered.
The Peacekeepers dropped Flux, who tried to run to her dad's side. Pain flared across her body though and she fell to the ground. Pin then tried to run to his daughter, but Darius's firm grasp held him against the wall. In the back, Peacekeepers ravaged through what little supplies the Arello's had to sell. After a minute, the Peacekeepers reemerged.
"Nothing back there." one remarked.
Darius gave the Arello's harsh looks, a cruel smile coming to his face. "Very well. I guess it's your guy's lucky day. But I want you to know that if I hear you've lied to me, or if I have to come back in here for anything else, I'll beat you and your daughter bloody and tie you both up on Rebel Road."
"Y-yes..." Pin mumbled, relief pouring into his voice. "T-thank you, sir!"
Darius snorted and turned to leave, disgusted by the terrible conditions of the Arello shop. As soon as the Peacekeepers left, their boots fading into the distances, Pin ran to his daughter's side. "Are you alright, Flux?"
"I'm fine, dad." Flux said, her voice lower and more controlled than it had been with the Peacekeepers. The horrified father/daughter act was done, at serious cost to Flux's back.
Pin looked at Flux's back, gasping when he saw the forming bruises. "No, you're not." Pin said, running to the medicine self to grab a soothing cream.
As he did so, another figure rushed in through the now gone front door. It was a young girl, the same age as Flux. Though instead of Flux's brown skin and black hair, this girl had pale skin and blonde hair. She was extremely skinny compared to Flux's larger frame, her body underdeveloped thanks to malnutrition. She wore wire like glasses as well, one lens always broken.
Despite her weak frame, the girl showed very little fear upon entering a building in which Peacekeepers had just stormed into.
"Flux!" the girl breathed, shocked to see her friend's hurt look.
"I'm ok, Onyx." Flux said, "It's not as bad as it looks."
Pin returned, giving Onyx a look. "Grab the supplies behind the counter and bring them up to our new friend." he instructed. Hesitant, Onyx looked at Flux first to get her approval. Once she had it, through a simple head nod, Onyx rushed to the store's counter and grabbed a bag of food and medicine, hidden behind several boxes. Onyx ran to the back of the store and grabbed a hooked staff from behind a few shelves. She held it up to the rotting roof, pulling down on a hidden lever. As the door fell down, Onyx grabbed a nearby stool and stood on it, raising her almost up to the hidden room.
"It's ok," she called up into the darkness. "I'm a friend of the Arello's."
Slowly, a scared and battered face appeared from the darkness. The man looked at Onyx with fear, though calmed once he saw her holding up supplies.
"T-thank you." he mumbled, grabbing the supplies from Onyx's grasp. Onyx gave the man a supportive smile, noticing that his left hand appeared to have been stomped on repeatedly while one eye was entirely red from popped vessels.
Once he had the supplies, Onyx immediately closed the door, sealing the man in the hidden room. She hid the staff and stool and returned to the main room where Flux was now sitting up. "He's safe." Onyx said, returning to her friend's side.
Flux gave a small smile. "Good." she said, wincing at the uncomfortable feeling of soothing gel against her back.
Pin only looked half as happy as his daughter. "We can't keep doing this." he said.
"What?" Flux said, spinning towards her dad. "We have to!"
"It's becoming too dangerous, Flux." Pin insisted. "I can't keep putting you in danger."
"I wasn't in any real danger." Flux protested.
"Flux!" Pin shouted, parental rage taking over. Flux's shock subsided from it, while Onyx looked away awkwardly. Sighing, Pin began to regain control of his emotions. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to shout."
"We can't stop helping people, dad." Flux continued.
"We can and we will." Pin replied. "Someone else will be able to help them, someone who is willing to risk their family."
"So we just let the Capitol win?" Flux responded angrily.
Pin said nothing in response, only standing next to his daughter as they waited for the gel to absorb into Flux's back. Once it had, Pin dismissed himself to go check on their 'new friend'. As soon as he was gone, Flux huffed in annoyance.
"He can't stop helping people." she said bitterly. "We can't stop helping people."
Onyx laid a supportive hand on Flux. "You might just have to."
"It's stupid though! We knew the risks when we started sheltering people! If we stop, who else is going to do it?"
It was a good question as good Samaritans were rare in District 6. Most of them had been strung up and tortured by the Peacekeepers, the few allowed to live serving as reminders of what awaits those who disobey. They stumbled around the District, screaming at invisible attackers and crying at past abuses they faced in dark rooms, where the only light came from a dull fluorescent bulb and the gleam of silver carving tools.
Flux hated the Capitol, just like everyone else, and was willing to do what she had to for combatting them. Even if it was just her, Flux wanted to beat the Capitol. But she knew she could accomplish nothing by outwardly protesting them by herself. She had to be sneaky, subvert their rule through the shadows first. Once enough damage had been there, Flux could stand in the light - hopefully with others - and fight against the Capitol.
For now though, she had to start small.
And even give into the Capitol upon occasion, such as the annual Reaping.
As if reading her mind, Onyx helped Flux upstairs to her room. "Let's just get the Reaping over with." Onyx muttered.
Flux nodded her head, praying that someone would do something rebellious during it.
The massive street leading up to the Justice Building, now known as Rebel Road jokingly, had become a hell show.
All manners of torture and discipline were on display, mixed with the offenders who had felt their wrath. Broken and ruined bodies of disobedient citizens stood tied to poles, stripped nude for the entire District to see. Whip marks covered most of their backs, dried blood cased over their backs and behinds. One woman's body looked as though she had suffered worse than the men around her. Trent was young, but not young enough to be ignorant of the barbaric act of rape.
One of the bodies, a man in his thirties, suddenly sputtered awake. He began moaning in agony as he struggled to open his eyes, which were buried underneath large, purple welts. His body was a mess as well, with broken ribs misshapen under his skin, fingers bloodied by missing nails, and his genitals ruined beyond natural repair. A nearby Peacekeeper shouted at him to shut up, causing the man to scream out in horror and wet himself. Upon closer inspection, Trent could see that most of the people had defected and urinated on themselves. Various bugs flew about them, infecting their wounds and feasting off the byproducts of their bodies. Near the end of the line, Trent cringed in horror as he saw several corpses, their eyes open and blank with expression.
Trent looked at them all, thinking that when he returned home he'd look one of the condemned souls. He was surprised to find his parents still asleep, though his sister Belle wide away but uncaring. Belle had always been the rebel of family, and at the age of nineteen still had no drive in life. She was still allowed to live on her parent's roof, but only barely so. She often got into fights with their parents, usually ending with how stupid they had been to name her Belle Bell. Trent liked Belle because she agreed with his ideas about their parent's blatant favoritism towards Aston, but at the same time didn't approve of her lazy demeanor. Not that it was entirely her fault, seeing as there weren't' many jobs around the District anymore.
As soon as he reached the end of the check in line, the rest of Trent's family peeled off and went to the spectator section. Trent stepped up to get his finger pricked, cringing when his hand was grabbed harshly and stabbed. The Peacekeeper waved him through, a flash of delight on his face from causing the young boy pain.
"Trent!"
Trent turned to see Dash rushing over, nursing her own finger. Trent gave a small smile and held up his finger. "Hurts a lot." he mumbled.
Dash rolled her eyes. "Of course it does." she said. "I'm glad to see your parent didn't kill you."
"They were still asleep. Lucky me."
"Let's get through the Reaping first, then we can count ourselves lucky." Dash said. She raised her right hand, the one that had been pricked, and awaited for Trent to do the same. Smiling, he raised his own hand and took hers in his.
"Promise you won't be Reaped?" Dash asked.
"I promise." Trent responded. "Do you promise you won't be Reaped?"
"I promise." Dash responded, both of them giggling at their yearly ritual. They had promised each other that promise at their first Reaping and it had now become a yearly event. It was silly, but therapeutic in a way. Trent's name was in the bowl a few more times thanks to tesserae, but not nearly as much as Dash's.
An announcement was made, saying that the Reaping would begin a few minutes. Dash and Trent took their places in their respective spots, waiting for the Reaping to be over with. Shortly afterwards, Head Peacekeeper Edrick stepped up to the podium and greeted the District. He offered his appreciation for the District's cooperation during the Reaping, his enjoyment of their forced attention not lost on anyone. Every word he spat sounded like an insult to the District, especially his talk about the failure of the Dark Days rebels. No doubt he was trying to draw parallels between their failed struggle and the coming failure of District 6's rebels.
"Those who think themselves somehow wronged by the Capitol are in the wrong." Edrick said, his voice booming with arrogance. "They owe their lives to the Capitol's mercy. Without the Capitol, they would perish from this world."
There was a loud scream of words heard from the spectator section, though from his distance, Trent couldn't make it out. It appeared to be a chant of sort, which more and more people seemed to be picking up on. With a flick of his wrist, Edrick ordered his men into the spectator section to round up the rabble rousers and have them join their fellow failed rebels on Rebel Road.
If there were any women among them, Edrick and his supporting officers would deal with them directly.
Edrick finished up his speech with more rhetoric about obedience and the rising new motto of Panem.
"Panem today. Panem tomorrow. Panem forever!" Edrick cried out, to forced applause of those on stage. The escort though was ecstatic and took to the microphone quickly. She looked like she wanted to give her own personal remarks, but a hard look from Edrick made her go directly to the Reaping bowl.
The girl's bowl were picked first, the thin sheet of paper holding the female tribute's name barely noticeably in between the escort's long talon nails. The escort's entire appearance resembled a bird, even with dove wings on her back. With a shrill shout, the escort announced the female tribute.
"Flux Arello!"
As usual, silence fell over the female section as people tried to find the unlucky girl. Finally, someone emerged from the sixteen year old section. Trent was surprised to see that despite her scared expression, Flux looked rather tough. She was about average height, with broad shoulders and well toned arms. Her brown skin contrasted nicely with her dark hair and eyes, the latter wide and unfocused. Trent thought she was rather attractive. Trent suddenly remembered seeing Flux around school with some blonde haired girl, telling Dash that Flux looked hot. He blushed furiously, embarrassed by such thoughts now that Flux was going to die.
As she stepped on stage, the escort smiled at her happily. "Congratulations!" she said. "How are you feeling?"
For a moment, Flux's expression hardened and it looked like she was going to tell off the escort. But just as quickly as it appeared, the rage disappeared. "I'm... I'm feeling good, I guess." Flux said, trying to sound good for the Capitol. "Getting Reaped... it's..."
Flux couldn't finish her statement, shock and fear overriding her. The escort looked at her awkwardly, clearly disappointed with Flux's open ended statement. "Now for the boys!" the escort declared, grabbing up a boy's name as quickly as she had the female. Beside her, Flux had managed to regain some control of her emotions, though her eyes were still wide with fear as the escort called out the male tribute.
"Trenton Bell!"
Trent felt as though a car had just hit him.
He stopped breathing, his heart rate accelerating even without oxygen. His face became red and from the boys around him, Trent could hear them whispering 'Tinker Bell'. It had felt like he had only been standing in his spot for a few seconds, but apparently it had been a lot longer as Peacekeepers barged through the crowd and dragged him to the stage.
Dully, he thought about how he had broken his promise to Dash.
Trent knew he was supposed to act like he was control. Him and everyone had been told repeatedly in school that if you were Reaped, you had to remain calm and collected. The Capitol wouldn't like or sponsor tributes that acted like babies. But Trent couldn't care about that, he could only think of himself going into the Games and the death he would find there.
"No... NO!" Trent shouted. "There has to be some sort of mistake! There must be a different Trenton Bell!"
There wasn't. The Capitol wasn't keen on allowing repeat names. It made cataloging citizens harder.
As soon as Trent was on stage, the tears began falling. He tried to calm down, but everything seemed too overwhelming. The lights, the cameras, Edrick's cruel stare, the entire District projecting pity at him. Trent wanted to curl up and continue bawling, but Peacekeepers stood him upright before he could enter an infant like state. Trent looked forward, seeing a camera pointed directly at him. Knowing that all of Panem was watching him, Trent began to calm himself down, wiping the tears away from his eyes.
The escort didn't have anything to ask Trent, which, with his shaky voice, was fine by Trent. She instead asked the two tributes to shake hands, which they did reluctantly. Flux had gained control of her emotions, a fire of hatred blazing in her eyes. Trent wasn't sure if that was directed towards him or the universe for Reaping her. Probably both. Upon closer inspection, Trent noticed that Flux's eyes were actually a pleasant green color and not the black specks he thought they were earlier. They had a nice calming effect on Trent, who broke a small smile despite the situation.
Maybe Flux would want to ally with him?
Before he had time to ask, Peacekeepers grabbed the two tributes and led them into the Justice Building. Behind them, the escort was wishing them a Happy Hunger Games while Edrick sneered at them; eager to watch the two of them perish in the arena.
At that moment, both tributes were all too afraid they were going to give him what he wanted.
During Catching Fire, Katniss made an interesting comment while she was in District 3. Panem Today, Panem Tomorrow, Panem Forever. I thought it was interesting as we never received any sort of motto for Panem from the books, so I'm going with that as a kind of motto. For the previous parts of the story, I've just been using Glorio ad Capitolium.
I don't think anybody will think of it because it was such a small part, but since I love educating you guys in random history facts, here's another! The street up to the Justice Building in District 6 is based off the rebel crucifixion along the Appian Way. After the rebel slave Spartacus was defeated by Roman general Crassus in 71 BC, the remaining slave rebels (6,000 roughly) were crucified along the Appian Way. The Appian Way was a major trade route leading to Rome, where slaves were also transported to Rome to be sold. It was a horrifying bit of symbolism for people first being sold into slavery, providing a demonstration as to what happened to disobedient slaves.
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Up Next: District 7 and District 8
Tributes: Ayla/Bruce and Tassel/Twill