Tadaa!
Here is the D6 Reaping ~
I had to make Lianne because we had no stereotypical Career girls in these games :( So we just had to make one up! No worries, she won't win.
Lianne Chrome waited for her mentor and guardian, Hound to come and wake her up. God, she was tired. He had spent three hours yesterday taking her on a ten kilometer hike around the outside fence of District Six. Lianne thought the wild outside the fence was weird, and felt kinda unsettled when she was sent on a training mission out there. It was strange how there were so many forests that Panem hadn't already burnt down. Lianne grabbed a lighter from her bedside drawers and flicked it on, watching the blue flame where the oil in the lighter ignited, heating the metal and scalding her fingers. She smiled.
Heavy thuds sounded as Hound stomped up the stairs to the dorm room. Lianne remembered when the sound of kids filled the room, groaning about the exercises they'd been put through, or discussing strategies with a glint in their eyes. Now she was the only one in the dorm room. The others were now long gone – either through starvation, or infection Hound couldn't cure, or through the rigorous training he put them through. Lianne enjoyed the peace and quiet.
The door was pushed open and Hound stepped inside. His shaggy black hair was in its usual 'controlled chaos' look, a few strand falling into his visible brown eye, while the other was covered by a leather patch that hid a long scar running down his right eye. Usually, he would have waited for her to come down to the lounge of the abandoned factory Hound and his 'students' lived in, and start with her training. But today, he seemed slightly more sentimental. Because today Lianne was going off to the Hunger Games, and it was time to see if her lifelong training regime had worked.
"Get up, sweetness" he said gruffly, with sarcasm woven into the pet name.
Lianne grunted and threw the torn duvet across the room, swung her legs over the side and walked groggily over to the drawer where she kept her three outfits. Her nightie – slightly blood-stained from the time Hound had pitted her against a guy who was sixteen, whereas she had been nine at the time – was way too small for her, barely reaching her thighs. She tugged at the tiny wooden handle of the drawer. It wouldn't budge. Ugh. She brushed her thin, dark hair out of her equally dark eyes, put her foot through the top of the drawer and casually removed her clothes. Lianne was not a morning person.
"You know that drawer cost me the antlers of a fine buck, sweetness," growled Hound, leaning against the wall and cleaning his fingernails with a foot-and-a-half long machete.
"Hah," spat Lianne, changing into her reaping outfit consisting of a faded burgundy dress that reached above her knees and a wide leather belt to go around her waist. She remembered those antlers, mounted on a plate in the mayor's house. Leave it to Hound to make it sound as if he had shot the beast himself. Some of Hound's older disciples had stolen it about six years ago in a stealth exercise. One had been caught . . . and shot. "Less than half that; I saw you spending the rest on morphling and vodka."
For someone who was the best bounty hunter in Panem, he wasn't very truthful, but hey, it was part of the job.
Hound smirked. "Sure you did. Come down in five, breakfast is in the pan." He turned to leave."Big day today, sweetness," he said, a grin on his unshaven face.
Axel Pascal woke up on that same morning. He lay in bed for about a minute and let the sunlight from the cracks in his ceiling shine into his dark eyes, dreaming about the day ahead, walking himself through every step he had carefully planned. He was almost bursting with excitement, he was giddy with eagerness. Today everything would change.
He went downstairs. His mother and father were already awake – a lifetime of waking up early for work was hard to change.
Mercedes Pascal was lying on the sofa-bed, drinking from a chipped cup of lukewarm weak tea. Her stance looked tired, but her eyes were bright and attentive. Axel's father, Mercer, was sitting on a spindly chair they had scavenged from when one of the factories was shut down. He was also drinking some tea from a small bowl. Mercer nodded at his son. His father approved of his plan, for it would surely succeed. Or maybe he just couldn't face the possibility of it failing. . .
Axel went over to his mother, hugging her tired arms. She had been working in the factory half the night for more than five years straight, and her arms were thin and spindly as they didn't have enough money to feed their family of three. Axel himself had worked hard at car-repair factories – car grease usually stained his already black hair and dark skin. But he had coped better with the constant work; he was tall and lean, and had learned to be fast to escape the Peacekeepers enforcing curfew, since he worked way after hours.
Mercedes looked up at her son and smiled. "My son," she said softly.
Axel's heart almost broke, for her eyes were full of pride. He knew the gamble he was taking was necessary, but it didn't make it right. His parents were actually going along with this plan – much more than he had dared to hope for. He had complete confidence in his own abilities, but for Mercer and Mercedes the small chance of failure might have been too much. Luckily, they shared his point of view. And, on the off chance he did perish in the Games, they wouldn't have to feed as many mouths.
Axel walked out of the door. Like most people in district Six, his family lived in one of the main abandoned factories, shut down after the Capitol's health and safety regulations deemed them unsafe. As if they cared about who got squashed by a falling chunk of the roof. He had heard there used to be a housing law for all Districts – each family was allocated their own house – but in District Six, there just wasn't enough space, so they had to make do with what buildings they already had. This building had been a residential site for about twenty years, and a factory for thirty years before that.
Axel knew that he was fortunate; this building was built with old steel, and although the timbers had long since rotted away, the frame remained, meaning that the walls were easy to replace and the architecture wouldn't come crumbling down at any second, like one had a few weeks ago down the road. Everyone living there now had at least three broken bones, and a quarter of them were dropping like flies because of the infection that came with the wounds. As he passed the families living in the same building as him, he noticed at least half had taken in one of the injured. He looked on at them with pity. Even though the conditions were way less than satisfactory, he knew he was lucky.
Axel stopped outside a room on the fourth floor, covered from view by a grubby white sheet hung from the steel beams that filled the factory. He had heard they used to use them by attaching great claws to them that moved around the building carrying construction parts. Now they just used people. He knocked on the wooden beam to the side of the white sheet.
"Lexus! You decent in there or do I get to barge in on a show?"
The sheet was suddenly flung aside, a girl with dirty blond hair and a piano-key grin emerging from behind.
"You wish, Axel," she said. She was wearing holey jeans and a leather jacket she had scavenged from the rubbish pile outside the building. It was in pretty good condition; there were a few large rips down the back (that looked suspiciously like claw marks. . .) and half a sleeve was missing, but, as Lexus had said, "Shredded is the new black". It sure put Axel's tee-shirts to shame; every one was coated with engine grease and had so many holes they were mistaken for polka-dots.
Lexus tied her wild hair up with a rubber band as they walked down to the street. This was pretty much their morning routine, on any day when they weren't working; go down to the shopkeepers' street and go through the rubbish tips, looking for fabric, china, plastic, rotten food – anything they could use.
Panem treated them like vermin, but decades of manufacturing and fixing trains, cars and the occasional motorcycle had given District Six a practical disposition. They could find use for almost anything, and that was fortunate since they didn't have a wide range of useful things at their fingertips. Today, there were about twenty kids and teens, the youngest around seven and the oldest in their early twenties. A small group of boys, about eight years old, saw Axel and Lexus as they approached and ran towards them, grinning. One, with dark hair, skin and eyes, shouted out and ran at Axel, giggling.
"Hi, Jay, nice to see you too." laughed Axel. Jay promptly jumped on Axel and clung to him, which would have caused serious injury to Axel if Jay hadn't been half his size.
"Hey there Junior." said Lexus, chuckling. The nickname was obvious – Jay's dark hair, dark skin and dark eyes made him look like a decade-younger version of Axel.
"Hi Axel, hi Lexus." Jay greeted, detaching himself from Axel.
"You found anything good yet?" asked Lexus.
Jay grinned and nodded his head enthusiastically. "We found this motorbike near one of the outer warehouses . . . seems like one of those old Harley's-,"
Axel was already leaning down to inspect the motorbike, taking out a work belt full of small spanners and screwdrivers. He ran his hands over the battered plate on the outside of the motorbike. The plates covering the wiring and internal structure were slightly dented and grimy, the edges spattered with rust. However, it was still in relatively good shape –on the outside at least.
"Alright, let's take a peek." Axel rubbed his hands together, ready to pry off the plates hiding the rest of the bike.
With some effort, the plates gave way and revealed the welded engine and wires underneath.
Jay and his friends "Oooohhhhed" and Lexus's eyes almost popped. The engine below was dusty and blobs of grease stuck to some of the parts; but not a single component was missing. Axel brushed away some of the dust – it was barely even rusted. He stood back. One of Jay's friends tugged at a small metal bar that was protruding from underneath the engine – the pedal had broken off and was probably lying somewhere in the pile of metal – and the bike started up perfectly, the sound of the engine reverberating around the alley.
It was like music; District Six spent so long trying to perfect car and bike components to actually work, and here was a prime specimen.
"Wow," breathed Axel.
Some of Jay's friends were giggling quietly. Lexus turned to look at them, one eyebrow raised. One boy turned to face Lexus, an expression of mock-pleading on his face.
"Can we keep him? Pleeeeease?" he said. The boys exploded into peals of laughter. Lexus snorted.
"Sure, you can have it," said Axel, turning back to face Lexus and the boys. Jay stepped forward.
"Dude, you can have some of this stuff, we couldn't get the plate off." He gestured to the wheels. "This suspension is pretty good. Or you could take a tyre."
Axel opened his mouth, as if to explain something, when the loud sound of a bird cry zoomed down the alleyway.
Axel's muscles tensed. One of Jay's gang was always positioned on a rooftop as a lookout. Peacekeepers rarely patrolled the alleys of District Six, but no one was willing to take the chance that they wouldn't. Fines and whippings didn't exist in District Six (and many of the other Districts where factories existed), as the Capitol would just cut their pay or even ensure that they lost their job. The punishment for 'stealing' was at least three months redundancy, which no one could afford. And although Axel didn't care if he lost his job at this point, he needed to talk to Jay and Lexus alone – badly. So he turned and ran as if for his life.
The bird cry as a warning had been used for generations; it was practically instinct to the kids. Everyone in the alley turned and fled. This drill came up every few weeks, and everyone had a safe place they prepared for this event. Half of Jay's gang jumped inside a window halfway down the street; the other half scampered up a thin rope ladder the look-out had thrown down. Jay and three other boys followed Lexus and Axel, who just ran full-pelt down the street.
When Axel turned left at the end of the alley he almost crashed into a man in a black trench coat, followed by a tall, skinny girl with dark hair. She frowned.
"Watch it, punk," she said quietly. Axel barely her a second glance.
"Crap," said Lexus, panting. She turned to Axel. "We need to go to the reapings. Jay, we'll meet you afterwards at safe house three. Get the bike there."
"No!" said Axel. He ducked between two shops and the others followed.
"Oh, so you have a better plan?" asked Lexus sarcastically.
Twenty minutes later, Lexus stood in her assigned area at the Reaping. She felt like she was going to puke, which was a bad idea all round. A thirteen year old had done that a couple of years ago when she got picked. It didn't go down well. So Lexus tried to stand contently, despite the feeling of dread deep in her stomach. It wasn't for fear of herself being reaped, although that might be preferable to what would actually happen. She was not brave enough to volunteer, anyway. Her father had always said bravery was just a kind word for stupidity.
Axel was definitely the stupidest person she had ever met.
The escort for District Six always tried to "fit in". She wore a strange dress made of chain mail, the skirt a ring of large silver pyramids reaching halfway down her calves, with a matching hair accessory. She just seemed to make everything in District Six more grimy and rusty. The Capitol was effectively making them feel worthless, like everything else they did to them. A woman in District Six would have to work for years to manufacture something so pointlessly aesthetic and here was someone who got a new one made for her every Games. Lexus spent her Reapings wondering how many wheels could be made out of the escort's dress.
Today, her bet was on twenty-six.
The escort waltzed over to the reaping bowl. Even her tremendously high heels had silver spikes all over. Axel used to joke that she should have a warning sign flashing above her head. She dipped her hand into the reaping bowl filled with the paper slips of doom. Before unfolding and reading out the name of the unfortunate written on the small paper slip, she closed her eyes and smiled. Lexus was sure she was thinking of the duty she was performing to Panem. It was a shame she was too far away to see the fear reflected in the eyes of the thousands of children.
"Smitha Robynson!" said the escort in a clear voice that rang out through the square, reverberating back against the walls of the Justice Building and the other tall apartment blocks.
Smitha, a girl who Lexus recognized from school, was weeping quietly. Some of her friends went over to comfort her.
"I volunteer."
The voice was not particularly loud, but it was said in such a way that every word was understood. Then, surprise, surprise, Lianne Chrome stepped out from the back of the crowd. Lexus's eyes narrowed. She recognized the face well. Lianne was the last of Hound's feared and respected "pupils". Hound, the detested bounty hunter, had kidnapped children years ago, and trained them their whole lives for the sole purpose of winning the Games. They had started with around twenty kids, ranging in age from 1-5 years when they were taken. Lianne was the only one left. No one asked what had happened to the others.
Lianne looked intimidating as ever in her burgundy dress, the trademark expressionless look in her cold dark eyes, any visible skin riddled with scars small or big. Lexus could tell that District Six's odds of victory had just skyrocketed. No one was close enough to Lianne to call her a friend, but Lexus felt genuine affection for her.
She could almost taste the food packages delivered to the square after the victory. . .
"Macron Washer!" said the escort.
Lexus squeezed her eyes shut. But nothing could stop her hearing the words, so familiar but unwelcome for the first time…
"I volunteer," said Axel loudly.
Lexus looked across the square at Axel. They were the closest of friends. They had known each other since they were both three years old. They had done everything together. But now Lianne was standing up on the stage. Lexus looked into his eyes.
Love you, Axel. she mouthed.
Axel, the ever optimistic, gave her a warm smile in return and started to climb the steps up onto the stage.
Planning to publish this at the same time as D7, which I am writing right now :)
Two Volunteers from an outlying District, this will be interesting. Especially since they're both so different from each other~
