Alatic "Tick" Brown, District Three Female (Age 17)

I shook my spray can as Beacon sketched out a design on the concrete wall.

"You sure the mayor's at a meeting? We could get sent to jail for this." I asked, looking over at Ambi.

She glared at me. "When have I ever gotten us caught? Aren't we famous for pulling this shit off?"

"Yeah." I muttered. "What are we painting, anyways?" All they told me was that we were vandalizing the mayor's place.

Beacon finished his sketch. "'Fuck the Capitol'. Simple, but effective. We'll make the President piss herself. They'll all want us dead." He snorted. "Tick, start with the black here." He gestured. "Not too hard, maybe you can do it."

I ignored his snide comments. I was used to them poking fun at me and I didn't really care, as long as I was part of one of the most infamous gangs of District Three. If Ambi herself invited you, you just couldn't say no.

"I don't even care about the Games." Ambi said. "I just want to knock the Capitol off their high horse."

It would probably take more than a group of rebellious teenagers to do that but I went along with it. I sprayed the dark paint over Beacon's sketch, making sure to be precise. He was a control freak and would flip out on me if I didn't paint it exactly right.

She pulled out her phone and sighed. "Potato will be here in a few. He's taking the bus." Potato was an odd name, but in his defense, I knew his parents and they were weirdos. Around the time he was born, they were using potatoes for electricity.

I finished and stepped back to look at my work. Beacon raised an eyebrow. "Not bad, Tick."

I wasn't sure why all four of us would be meeting here, after all, this was a quick job we already completed. But it wasn't my place to question Ambi. Someone like me, just an average socially awkward outcast, was lucky to know her.

My heart stopped for a second when someone came around the corner but it was just Potato. "Ambi, Beacon, Tick." He put his hands in his pockets and nodded at them.

"Hey, Potato." I smiled at him. He was by far the most bearable member of the gang. Ambi and Beacon were too busy with their phones to give him anything but a nod back.

"Fuck the Capitol, that's super edgy."

"Exactly, it'll grab their attention." Ambi snapped. "We know how hard that is on Reaping day. We know what we're doing."

Potato gave me a knowing, exasperated look. Their self confidence was more irritating than anything else, even though it was what made them popular.

But we were all just kids. We never knew what we were doing.


Archibald Pell, District Three Male (Age 13)

"So, Pell, are you looking forward to the Reapings?"

"No." I said bluntly, stroking the fur of one of the bunnies. It was soft and cute, shame it might die later from some weird DNA test or something.

My dad's job was to take care of the lab rats and other animals at one of Three's big science facilities. Sometimes I would pet them for something to do, or when he wasn't looking. Right now he was on his computer and unconcerned with anything else. All he did was ask me the occasional random question.

Usually I preferred to stay home since it was calmer, but the lab had bunnies and home didn't.

The bunny I was holding, who I named Mel (it rhymes with Pell), sniffed my fingers and twitched her ears. Her fur was fluffy and gray. She was snuggled up in my arms and looked very cozy.

Someone knocked on the door, and my dad promptly yelled, "Come in."

My best friend Sylvester pulled the door open and stumbled in the room. "Hi Mr. Pell and Pell!"

Dad's eyebrows raised. "How did you get in here?"

"Easy!" He grinned. "I picked the lock at the front, hacked into the security software, and got it to just ignore me. And now, here I am." Sure he did.

Dad scoffed at him. It was mostly sarcastic. "One day you're going to get in a lot of trouble, young man." He continued his work.

Sylvester laughed and sat down next to me, letting another rabbit sit on his lap. "Your dad is crazy."

"So are you." I resisted a smile. Sylvester was great. When I was around him I felt like the world was colorful. "People in glass houses shouldn't throw stones."

"At least I don't use cliches." He stroked the bunny in his lap.

I couldn't think of a comeback so I decided to change the subject.

"Are you worried about the Reapings?" A simple question that called for a complex answer.

Sylvester thought about it for a minute. I could practically see the gears turning in his head.

"I hope I don't get Reaped because then I'll never be able to live a full life. You can't do a whole lot at thirteen." True, but I'd much rather live a comfortable life than a thrilling one. That was our main difference.

He continued, "I don't want it to happen, but am I worried about it? No, it's very improbable either of us would be Reaped, but our very nature tends to ignore that."

Saying things well was just a special skill of his.

"Hm." I thought for a moment. He was right, humans were practically coded to worry about stuff.

"That security software must not be that complicated if you figured it out."

Sylvester laughed. "I was just trying to sound smart." He lowered his voice. "The door was unlocked and the lady at the front desk recognized me and let me through."

"Oh my God, you're so pretentious." I rolled my eyes jokingly.

"'People in glass houses shouldn't throw stones'." He mimicked me, and if I could I'd throw a stone at him but all there was within arm's reach was Mel the bunny.

We continued talking for a little while longer. It mostly consisted of jokes and fake-fighting (mostly from him). I liked it.

"Alright, I've gotta head home and take Pell with me. The Reapings are in an hour." My dad stood up and pulled open the door. "Nice seeing you, Sylvester."

I wished him goodbye and my dad and I went back home. It would've been a typical day.

I was afraid of the Reapings, which presented me with a choice. I could worry about something that wouldn't happen or do other things with my time.

So I chose the latter.


Alatic "Tick" Brown, District Three Female (Age 17)

I toyed with a copper wire in my hands, wrapping it around my finger repeatedly and then undoing it. Something small to focus on, and something I could actually control.

I was wearing a simple, oversized black t-shirt that went nearly down to my knees. My mom made me change into something clean, and I was too ugly to wear a dress. She was always a little too concerned with me and a little too proud of whatever I did, even though there wasn't a whole lot to be proud of. As soon as I got out of school, it wouldn't matter. I'd go on and become a computer scientist and put my teenage antics behind me.

A group of Peacekeepers were muttering amongst themselves and it made my stomach churn. They were right in front of the mayor's house. Right where we vandalized it.

The Peacekeepers knew of our gang and weren't too concerned about it before, but this was the first thing we'd done that could be considered treason. Oh my God, I was such an idiot for doing it, what if they got my fingerprints? I should've thought about it beforehand.

Now I had two things to worry about. The square of District Three was much cleaner and modern-looking than most of the others. The town hall and other important buildings were all marble or iron.

District Three only had one Victor, Electra from the fourth Games. She won by hiding wires and other traps all around the arena, and was so good at it everyone else just died off. It was, however, considered a boring year. Not enough blood and gore.

She was sitting in between our escort, Penny, and the mayor. He was a chubby old man who was in charge of District Three since Panem's formation. During the war, apparently he was important in the Capitol military and nuclear force. So in other words, he was a piece of shit.

Penny's hair was dyed bright green and she wore a skin-tight gold dress. With her round eyes, she resembled an exotic bug, especially as she stiffly stood up and spoke into the microphone.

"Welcome everybody!" Her voice rang. "Welcome to the District Three Reapings!"

The crowd applauded. Most of us were squinting in the sun.

"After the rebellion, the Capitol decreed that every year, each District would send a young man and woman to fight to the death until one Victor stood. Today, we're here to select our two tributes to represent District Three in the 20th Annual Hunger Games. I am honored to be your escort."

At least she didn't go on and on and on.

"Time to select our lady!" She fluffed her hair up and her heels clicked as she walked to the first bowl. I kept wrapping the wire around my finger and undoing it. It cleared my mind.

Penny put her hand in the bowl, shuffled the papers around, and selected one. Holding the slip high, she announced,

"Alatic Brown!"

I felt like the air was knocked out of my lungs and let out a gasp.

Oh no. Oh no. I was gonna die and embarrass myself and what would happen to my family and Potato?

I clenched my fists and put my chin up even though my head was a mess. I felt a pressure from the eyes of the entire District on me, so I guess my only choice was to fight it. I walked stiffly to the front and didn't return Penny's cheerful smile.

"Hi, Alatic!"

I just frowned at her. A part of me felt bad since being kind was my true nature, but I couldn't afford to be kind now. I couldn't afford to do anything besides what I needed to do to live now.


Archibald Pell, District Three Male (Age 13)

At least I wasn't the only person in Three with an unfortunate first name. Alatic. Was it supposed to be a pun of 'electric'? Whatever it was, it sounded ugly.

She looked angry, and if I was Reaped I'd be angry too. But I didn't detect any fear on her face. She just seemed to be the type of angry you would get when someone stole something important to you.

Penny smiled. Escorts smiled too much, especially the ones with the most distorted faces. "Now, to select the boy." She sashayed to the second bowl and chose a paper. I wouldn't be picked, it wasn't reasonable. I had no tesserae and next to no chance. My breathing was steady as I bounced on the balls of my feet.

"Archibald Pell!"

I immediately felt a wave of fear, and like my throat was closed off. It felt weird hearing my full name. I was picked out of everybody. Any teenager in the District could've been chosen, but it was little old me.

The irrational was real now. Human nature was right all along.

Well, that was it, I guess. I wouldn't get a life, I would never grow up. What chance did a scrawny thirteen-year-old have?

Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry.

He was blurry, but Sylvester looked bewildered and heartbroken.

Two Peacekeepers grabbed my arms, since I was too zoned out to walk to the stage myself. Their grips were tight. They thrust me up the stairs. I stumbled and fell over, hitting my knee on the marble. My face was hot in front of the entire bloody District. And all of Panem too.

I awkwardly scurried up to the podium and gave the square a weak, forced smile. My heart was pounding.

"Hello, Archibald, do you want to say anything to Panem?" She held the microphone to my face.

"H-hi," I squeaked. "Can you call me Pell?" My throat burned.

Penny looked at me like I was a wounded puppy, when really I was just a puppy who knew it was going to die. "Of course."

"Ladies and gentlemen, your tributes, Alatic Brown and Pell!"

Alatic simply scowled at me instead of shaking my hand. The rest of my life would be very strange if I was with her.


AN: Hey! Thank you so much for reading! (and happy eclipse day :D) As of now, we're officially halfway through the Reapings! Thank goodness tbh, I love getting to know the characters but writing the same event twelve times gets kinda repetitive. Also, this SYOT is officially closed! Thank you to everyone who's read and/or submitted, and special thanks to Elim9 and Dreaming of Starry Skies for submitting Pell and Tick! Here are the questions:

1. Opinions of these two?

2. How long do you think they'll live?

3. Since we've seen six out of twelve Reapings, that means there's a 50/50 chance we've been introduced to this year's Victor. Do you think there are any potential winners out of everyone we've met? Or will they be seen later?

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