District 4 Reaping
Ariana Johnson's POV:
I blinked my cat-like green eyes as I squinted against the sun. Where was I? The ground beneath me was hard and warm, and kind of rough…the docks! I looked up and saw fishing boats tied to posts. Suddenly, it all came back…My name is Ariana Johnson, and I am an orphan living in district 4. The quarter quell, which calls for only orphans begins today. I took as many tesserae as allowed, so I am highly likely to be drawn. I stretch my feline frame to the deep blue sky, and shake out my long blond tresses, as if ridding my mind of the dark thoughts. Ahh. Time to hunt, I smiled to myself. And hunting consists of stealing. But all in good game. If I did not "hunt," I would not eat, and that is a simple fact. Another fact is that at this time and day, I happen to know that the all-district market is today. Perfect. So many people, so much distraction, so little keen eyes. I gather up my whale-skin blanket, and pull on the straps I sewed onto it. Such a clever little invention of mine, part knap sack, all bed. I even stitched in a wad of cotton at the top for a pillow. I smirk at my ingenious, then walk towards the forum with a bounce in my step.
The forum, our meeting place, is in the center of the middle city of all the district. How convenient that right after the market, there are the reapings. Ugh. I continue walking until I reach the crowd. We jab elbows, cuss each other out, kick shins, and do all else necessary to get to our destinations, but at the end of the day, we are all like family. We watch out for each other, it's the great part about my city. I reach the fruit and vegetable section. Damn! Four stand workers. How would I ever manage? Then I spot it…
A pet parrot. How convenient. I tease it with a bit of stale bread in my pocket, then fling a left over berry straight towards the cart of apples. The jewel-toned parrot flies with speed, the crashes straight into the cart, upsetting the workers, crowd, and definitely the fruit. I grab an orange, kiwi, and then pick up a stray apple rolling along the pavement. The deed done, I jostle my way to the bakers sector. Busy selling a loaf of cinnamon bread to some capitol pansy here for the reaping, I snatch two breakfast rolls unnoticed. One last stop…the beverage stand. Practically a bartender of coffee, the magical drink wizard Solana sold her cups of chocolate, coffee, and milk mixed together by the hundreds. People traveled for kilometers just to sample her amazing mixture. I waited until a worker carried a tray of the sweet coffee to the crowd, then I jabbed hard in his direction. My elbow connected with the tray, splashing scalding liquid everywhere. Oops…I grabbed one of the 3 remaining cups on the tray, which had once held 20 other mugs of goodness, and dashed off to an alley to eat my rich breakfast. I sauntered back to the forum just to hear my name being called at the stage. I force my face clean of all emotion and push my way through the crowd. Displayed on stage for all to see, my features rearranged themselves into a look of defiance. The capitol would pay for this.
Joshua Richter's POV:
A/N: Remember he is a bloodbath!
Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump. What was that? After a moment, I realized it was my heart. I was standing on the metal plate in the arena, looking around. I broke into sweats, realizing I would never make it. The land mines disable themselves and I am free! I run towards the cornucopia, and I am the first one there! But as I sift through the piles of supplies, I feel a sharp pang in my back, and then blackness. I have died. I wake up screaming. This is not extremely unusual. I feel my face with clammy hands, and cannot tell which is more sweaty, my face or hands. My feet are freezing, so I feel around in the dark for my crude socks and pull them on. Without getting out of bed, I reach for the clothes I laid out last night and awkwardly wriggle into them while lying down. I run out of the dark room into the orphanage kitchen. Crap! It's fucking noon! I sprint to the square just in time to see a strange, green haired lady pulling a slip of paper out of the glass ball. It reads "Ariana Johnson." A tall, curvy girl with long blond hair, green eyes, and tan skin walks-no, struts- to the front. Dammmmn! The psycho lady scrambles around the second glass bowl and withdraws a slip of paper that holds my name. I do my best to impress Ariana, matching her look of rebellion and slightly swaying as I walked. As we shook hands, I smirked at her perfect face, and fantasized about her full, ruby lips. How soft they would feel on mine, sucking my bottom lip, her perfect, pearly, front two teeth gently nibbling my ear…Man, she was killing me here! I had to get her somehow. I just had to have that body on mine.