I know you probably don't care about my Tomodachi Life updates, but I'mma tell you anyway because this is my author's note and I make the rules. Get this: Hip got married! That's right, he was the first to settle down and the lady of his desire turned out to be my evil twin Taylot. They had a baby that looks like demon spawn and named him Angel. How fitting. Wiley also got married to one of my sister's friends! Good for him, finally breaking out of the friendzone. Saffron is still going out with my mii, but hasn't proposed because he's a dork. Probably because the game knows I'll stop playing it once my mii has had a baby. Curse you, game!
Oh wait, wait, wait…there's actually important stuff to talk about…
IMPORTANT INFORMATION NEWSFLASH! The deadline to submit your character is THE END OF JULY. You've got less than two weeks to send in a character if you haven't already. That weekend, I will create the final list of tributes. DUN DUN DAHH! …Look forward to it.
I would have liked to name this chapter "Flashback Fun" but then I remembered you guys are probably taking this more seriously than me.
"So if the square root of negative four is equal to 2i, that means it would be…the square root of four times the square root of negative one? But the value of i…that's…that's…?"
"You're getting there," Junisse said, offering Matthise an encouraging smile.
Her friend just scratched his head, looking perplexed. "But what the hell is the point of bringing in 2i? Who's the genius that came up with imaginary numbers?!"
Junisse responded with a soft laugh. "Let's finish up so you can help me with my English homework."
It had been a long night for the both of them. Most kids at the age of 17 might be out partying on such a night, but not them. They wanted to get a head start on their homework for the weekend. Ever since grade school, Junisse and Matthise played off each other's academic strengths, helping the other where they failed. It was a great trade-off and not only helped them survive their classes, but also contributed to their friendship.
Tonight, they were trading off Math for English. But Matthise's homework proved to be a great deal harder than they could have foreseen. He suggested letting Junisse do all the work, but she chastised him for it, saying he should do his own work or he wouldn't learn anything.
Knock-knock-knock!
Someone was rapping on the door to Matthise's bedroom. A second later, it flung open to reveal his mother standing there. "Matt! It's late! Get to bed." Her expression softened when she spotted Junisse sitting on his bed. "Oh, Junisse, honey. I didn't know you were still here."
"Oh no, I'm so sorry," Junisse apologized, hurrying to gather up her books. Matthise protested as she pulled her notebook from his grasp. "I'll be going now."
Matthise's mother frowned. "It's awfully late. My husband can take you home if—"
"No, thank you. That's not necessary. It's just a short walk," Junisse said, lifting her backpack onto her shoulder and heading for the door. "Thank you for having me." She bid a quick goodbye to Matthias, making him promise they would work on English the next time they met. Then she headed for home.
As soon as she stepped outside, Junisse grew nervous. She hadn't realized how dark it was. A few dim streetlights lined the street, but their glow barely permeated the darkness. Not wanting to inconvenience Matthise's family, she stepped onto the sidewalk with a gulp. Her house was just two streets away. She would just walk quickly.
But the deserted, wide-open street made her heart pound even faster. She felt exposed. With a deep breath, she imagined herself somewhere else. Standing in a meadow, with sunlight warming her skin. Horses were grazing nearby. Matthise was there, and her other friend, Bel. All was well.
This daydream helped her clear the first street without any problem. On the next street, reality came rushing back in when she spotted two men facing off at the corner of a building. Even in the gloom, she could see one had faded green hair and tattered clothing.
"District scum!" The green-haired man spat at the other. "I lost my house cause of trash like you!"
Junisse nearly let out a cry of fear when he swung his hand at the other man without warning. However, it didn't connect. The district man dodged the blow, and then countered with his own fierce punch. There was a resounding crack as his fist met with the green-haired man's jaw. The Capitol man crumpled with a groan of pain and stayed down.
That didn't stop the district man from delivering a kick to his stomach. The Capitolite gasped as the air was forced from his lungs. He curled into a ball, in an effort to shield himself, but the district man continued his attack.
Please stop fighting! Junisse wanted to say, but she didn't dare. She could barely spark a conversation among her peers at school; much less stop a fight between two grown men. She remained where she was, paralyzed with fear.
Then the district man's eyes met her own. Her heart nearly stopped. For once, she was grateful for her plain appearance—dark skin, brown eyes, frizzy black hair. No altercations to speak of.
The man began shambling towards her, walking with a slight limp. Junisse felt her knees going weak. An image flashed through her mind—one of her crumpled on the ground in a helpless ball, just like the green-haired Capitolite. She braced herself for a scream that would wake up the whole neighborhood.
But when he reached her, the district man merely nodded at her. "Good luck at the Reaping tomorrow," he said, his voice cracked with age. Then he continued past her, disappearing into the gray shadows. Junisse watched him go, unable to speak or move. The battered body of the nearby Capitolite emitted a soft moan.
That sparked Junisse into movement. She ran the rest of the way home and didn't stop until she was inside her house, safe and sound.
TV? Check. Popcorn? Check. Six-pack of assorted caffeinated sodas? Check. Time for the Hunger Games marathons to end all Hunger games marathons!
Antony threw himself down on the family sofa with a bowl of popcorn in one hand and a drink in the other. He kicked back, resting one foot on the coffee table in front of him and the other on the arm of the couch. His lanky body practically took up the entire space, leaving no room for those who would wish to join him.
"Play," he commanded the TV. "…Seventy-fifth Hunger Games."
The TV repeated his request, and then followed his order. The Capitol logo popped up on the screen and a familiar anthem filled the room.
He had decided to start with the 75th Hunger Games and go backwards from there. It would be like travelling back into the past.
His heart rose with excitement when the chariots started rolling out. It had been so long since he had experienced anything to do with the Games! And the chariot rides were his absolute favorite part. But he had to shield his eyes when District 10 appeared. What a horrible, horrible costume! He would never have agreed to wear such atrocious attire.
Right when the interviews started, Antony's mother came walking into the room with a sour look on her face. He tried to pretend she wasn't there, hoping that if he stayed silent, she would turn around and leave. It didn't work.
"Look at you—you're sixteen. And here you are, holed up inside watching the Hunger Games. A boy your age should be spending more time out of the house, with friends! Do you even have any friends?"
"I do have friends," Antony said in a flat voice. He could barely hear the TV over the sound of his mother's nagging.
"A foal doesn't count as a friend."
Antony gritted his teeth. "Foil, Mom. Three years of fencing lessons and you think you'd know what the sword was called. Sheesh."
Antony's mother crossed her arms and glared down at him. "I'm not the one taking the lessons, am I? Besides, my point still stands."
Antony nearly chuckled out loud. Your POINT still stands? As in, the point of the foil? But this was not the time to be cracking jokes. He was trying to win this argument. "I do have friends. Ingrid, Ayla, Noelle…" He began counting his friends on his fingers, but the third one made him pause. Wait. I got this…do I have other friends? I do, don't I? Hm…
"Oh, Zou, give him a break," Antony's father said, coming into the room. He offered his boy a smile. "Remember we used to rewatch the Hunger Games all the time after the rebellion ended!"
"Only because I wanted to show our son what the President did wrong…" Zou mumbled. "Letting two victors survive and then throwing all of them back into the arena at once? It was outrageous. Remember that riot we were caught in?"
Antony didn't think the President was wrong. The districts had a major screw up and so they had to face the consequences. Even though 75 years was a little much…yeah, they probably should have cut that down a bit. And they probably shouldn't have thrown the victors back in for another fight, no matter how exciting that had been. Still, Antony couldn't deny missing the PreGames and the endless flow of fashion trends the Games produced. Speaking of fashion trends…
"Dad, you changed your look!"
Antony's father looked down at his attire with a delighted laugh. His hair and skin were tinted orange and he was wearing a black jumpsuit. It was an odd combination. "I'm trying to set a new trend!" He declared. That was practically his catchphrase. "Maybe you should try something new for once, Antony."
Antony shook his head and grimaced. "Maybe if I wanted to look like a fashion disaster. No thanks, I'll stick to my usual look."
"If it were possible to go blind from too much purple, you would have by now," His mother grouched.
"It's lilac! Gawd!" Antony said, throwing up his arms.
Zou threw up her arms as well, in mock surrender, and left the room. Her husband followed, saying, "We'll leave you to your marathon, son! Let us know if you need anything."
"Thank you. Was that so hard?" Antony said, turning back to the TV. Sometimes being an only child was great, but other times he wished his parents would just leave him alone and go dote on another kid. And thanks to them, now he felt distracted. He fingered his lilac shirt, and then touched his lilac hair and eyes, wondering if it was too much.
Nah. Looking this good couldn't possibly be a mistake. 'If it ain't broke, don't fix it' and all that crap. So Antony settled back, shoveled some popcorn into his mouth, and prepared himself for a long night of reliving the Hunger Games—until tomorrow, when they would finally return after their five-year hiatus.
Seven years ago…
"Sweetie! Sweetie, come meet the victor!"
Eleven-year old Viatrix could only stand and stare at her mother when she approached her with such a request. "The victor?" She echoed.
Her mother immediately grabbed her hand and began dragging her through the group of partygoers. People pressed in from every side, their voices drowning out her meager protests. She had so many reasons why she wasn't fit to meet a victor: her dress was too poofy and childish, her hair was a mess, she had a pimple on her forehead…but her mother wasn't letting her get away with anything.
"Nonsense!" She laughed, her voice booming over the crowd. "You're an absolute doll, sweetheart! This victor isn't getting away without meeting my little princess."
Viatrix opened her mouth to berate her mother for her poor choice of words, but before she knew it, they were standing in front of him.
Leon. Deadly Career from District 2 and victor of the 73rd Hunger Games.
Viatrix's breath caught in her throat. He was even more handsome in person than on TV with his defined features and short hair; black as the tuxedo he wore. But his moss-green eyes, which had shone with life during the Hunger Games, were strangely dull. Viatrix couldn't tear her eyes from them.
"This is my daughter, Viatrix Reivan," Viatrix's mother gushed, scooting her daughter forward so she could shake hands with the eighteen-year old victor.
"It's a pleasure to meet you," is what Viatrix should have said. It's what she was trained to say in any situation like this. Instead, she blurted out, "I like your shoes."
In her peripheral vision, she could see the outraged look on her mother's face. But she was too lost in the twinkle that had appeared in Leon's eye. He looked a little more like the boy she remembered from TV. The faint traces of a smile pushed at his lips. "Thanks. I like your dress."
Viatrix looked down at the poofy monstrosity, wrinkling her nose at it. What she said next would treat her to an hour-long lecture from her mother when she got home.
"Thanks. I don't."
The Night Before The Reaping
What time is it?
Viatrix wondered, idly staring into the contents of her glass. It had to be well past midnight by now, but the party was still going strong. Despite her love of parties and meeting new people, this one felt rather dull. Years ago, she would have happily taken part in it. But not now.
They should not be throwing a party the night before a Reaping. There is nothing to celebrate. Even when it was district children being sent to the arena, there was still no reason to rejoice.
Viatrix spotted her mother among a group of women, her voice carrying through the banquet hall. Her father wasn't far, talking business or politics with an official-looking man Viatrix had never seen before. Barcenia, Saviel, and Saber, friends she had brought to the party, were making their way over.
Barcenia's doll-like features were flushed with alcohol. She was chastising Saber, her boyfriend, for making eyes at another girl. "What'm I, not good enough for you?"
"I wasn't checking that girl out! Why would I need to, when I have you?" Saber just grinned as he tried to grab his girlfriend's hand. "Please don't be mad!"
"You know I can't stay mad at you!" Barcenia yelled angrily, despite her words.
"Hey!" Viatrix greeted, waving her hand in front of their faces to get their attention. "What's up?"
"Hey, Vi," Saviel said. "You should come join us. There are plenty of hot guys to go around…until I snatch them up, that is."
Viatrix laughed. "Just when this party was starting to get dull. Sure, let's go!"
The two girls left Barcenia and Saber to their bickering, choosing to take up residence at the refreshments table. It was the perfect place to set up attractive-man-surveillance. Not that they needed to try very hard.
Viatrix's long hair was dyed with streaks of bright red, dark purple, mint blue, and lime green. Saviel called her a walking rainbow, but she didn't mind the insult. Her hair was a good conversation starter. Aside from that, she had a petite frame with no muscles or scars to speak of. All of the acne from her youth had cleared up years ago. Now, the first thing people noticed about her (aside from her wild hair), was her crystal blue eyes.
"Over there! There's one," Savial exclaimed, pointing.
"Shh, don't point!" Viatrix giggled, grabbing Savial's arm and yanking it down. But she followed her friend's gaze to see a blonde boy loitering at the end of the long banquet table, eyeing the punch. He was wearing a handsome tailcoat and his eyes were a pleasant shade of moss-green—
Oh. Viatrix's throat swelled with sadness. She turned and began to walk briskly in the opposite direction.
"Where are you going?" Savial called after her. "Does this mean you're surrendering?"
"Yeah," Viatrix replied, trying to keep her voice light. "Have at it."
I'm done partying for tonight.
Five years ago…
It was an overcast day. Dark clouds stretched endlessly across the sky in every direction, hanging low over the mountaintops. A strange rumble could be heard in the distance and tension buzzed through the air.
"Do you think we should have evacuated with the rest?"
"No. Those people are stupid scaredy-cats. No way the rebels are getting into the Capitol. My parents said so."
Percy could see Neleus looking at him doubtfully, but he felt no fear. Their family lived in the suburbs, a good distance away from the heart of the Capitol. In fact, their neighborhood stood high on a hill that overlooked the great city. From their vantage point, they could see many of the houses and empty streets beneath them.
"Those people aren't stupid. They just want to protect their families," Neleus muttered. "I would want to protect mine."
"Of course you would," Percy spat. "Your perfect little family. Gotta keep them safe."
Neleus tucked his hands behind his head and sighed. "Percy…you gotta stop acting like this. If you always act this way, you're never gonna have any friends and everyone's gonna hate you."
"Yeah?" Percy sneered, heaving his fat body off the curb to stand over Neleus. "Then why are you friends with me?"
He briefly recalled the first day they met. They had always been neighbors but never spoken, since Percy rarely left the house. But on the first day of school, Neleus came right up to him and said, "Our names are almost the same! Neleus and Perseus!" Like it was such a big freakin' deal. He could envision his friend's five-year old self perfectly: bright blue eyes, big grin, neatly groomed dark hair and that stupid baseball cap he always wore.
He waited for Neleus to bring up the first day they met or the fact they were neighbors, but instead he simply said, "Because everyone needs a friend."
This caught Percy by surprise, though he didn't show it. "Hmph. What makes you say that?"
Neleus shrugged. "Well, how else could you play tag or hide-and-seek…or baseball!"
"Sports are stupid," Percy scoffed.
Neleus hopped to his feet. "Fine, be like that," he said, looking unbothered. "Wanna see me do some tricks with the yoyo?" He reached into his pocket and pulled out a red yoyo that matched his favorite hat.
Percy paused, ready to put his friend down, as he always did. But then he decided, yes, he did want to see some tricks. "Can you...can you show me how to do a few tricks, too?"
Neleus nodded, then began to show off all sorts of crazy feats with his yoyo. The two were so absorbed in his talents, that they did not see the strange man further down the road, headed straight for them.
Reaping Day
"Percy…Percyyy…are you sleeping?"
A finger prodded Percy's flabby arm. The 13-year old boy was currently resting his bulbous head on his kitchen table, arms folded beneath him. His 10-year old brother, Parry, sat across from him. Today, he seemed intent on torturing him with his presence.
Parry brushed at the long, blonde bangs that covered Percy's eyes, trying to get a peek to see if his brother was truly asleep.
Percy swatted his hand away. "Don't touch me!" he snapped.
"Why are you in such a bad mood today?" Parry asked, obediently retracting his hand.
"Why do you think, genius? The Reaping is today," Percy said grimly. "Today's the day the district trash get their revenge on us Capitol kids! Sure, they say it's only gonna be a single Hunger Games, but what's gonna stop them from—"
Before he could explain properly, the door to their house unlocked and flew open. There stood a woman with blonde hair and the largest pair of lips Capitol plastic surgeons had to offer. The thick layer of makeup she had caked on this morning was slightly smeared. After a quick glance around the house, the woman pulled out a tiny mirror and began reapplying lipstick.
"Is your father home yet?" She asked, after smacking her lips together.
"No," Parry answered. "But he will be soon."
Percy's mother merely smiled. Then, without so much as a hello, she retreated upstairs.
Their father arrived home from work about ten minutes later. He was a broad-shouldered man with tiny glasses, a graying mustache, and the same blonde hair as the rest of his family. Percy knew he used to work as a consultant for a government official, but now he wasn't so sure anymore. He didn't bother asking because he didn't care.
"Hello dear!" Percy's mother said, racing down the stairs to give her husband a peck on the cheek. "How was work?"
"Busy," Percy's father grunted. "How much of my money did you spend on shopping today?"
Percy's mother giggled. "You'll be happy to hear I didn't spend a single cent! I know we need our money in a time like this, what with taxes raised to the roof. We must put food on the table for the little ones!"
Percy had to restrain a gag. This entire conversation sounded so forced. And both him and Parry knew their mother wasn't out shopping—she was seeing another man. Revealing this truth to his father would have been the ultimate debauchery and Percy often liked to imagine the consequences. But he didn't dare go through with it. When he hinted at her affair, his mother had said something along the lines of 'I'll smash your guts out if you tell your father.' And he believed her.
There was another poke on Percy's arm. He glared at his brother through his curtain of bangs.
"Do you want to play a game while we wait for the Reaping? It'll take your mind off it." Parry smiled.
"Do you want your face rearranged by my fist? Because that might help me take my mind off it too," Percy said, mimicking his little brother's cheerful voice.
Parry stared at him for a second, his lips puckered in a small frown. Then he stood up and left the room without another word.
"Yeah. Didn't think so," Percy snorted, and went back to sulking.