Hi, I'm back!
Let's get to work and pretend this didn't take years.
I'm kicking the sponsor system. This is the system that will take its place:
Faithful reviewers (5+ good reviews, ((plus number of chapters divided by five as the story goes on))) and tribute submitters may suggest sponsor items. The more active you are, the more likely I am to send in your item. But here's the catch: you may not suggest items for your own tribute. Of course, this only applies to tribute submitters, because reviewers don't have their own tribute. But suggest wisely, you can only get your items in the arena a maximum of 3 times (suggestions are limitless, but I will only pick a maximum of three, kapeesh?).
I really like all the tributes and I think I did well on them all, but I think I sorta failed on these two. Thoughts?
I would really like some reviews! Getting back into a story needs effort from the writer and the readers, so tell me your thoughts and criticism!
District 7 Reapings
Fern Asenath POV
The trees around me whisper with the wind. The branch I'm perched in is particularly high, about twenty feet, and the predawn air sends a slight chill up my spine. I don't mind. My dark auburn hair is windblown and tangled, my face speckled with dirt. My outfit consists of workers' pants, a light brown shirt, and a leather jacket that's grown smaller over the years. Not at all proper for Reaping Day, but it's technically night- the sun hasn't risen yet.
I've got a bad feeling today. Worse than all the years past. I know I have a good chance of going into the Games, and I don't have a deep concern for much anyone else, so what did I do? I ran to the forests around my house. I always come here to think, so I end up here quite often. This one boy comes here too, he's a friend of sorts, but I don't know him well. His name is Vidar, he's about my age. He's not here today; I would expect him to be with his family. After all, he is Reaping age. Me, I'm just fifteen.
I climb still higher, getting more absorbed in my train of thought. I have my parents and Janet, she's my cousin. I love them, really and truly. But they can't seem to understand me. They think I'm strange and that I spend too much time inside my head. Janet's seventeen, two years older than me with six slips in the lottery. I have four. My parents won't let either of us take tesserae, we know how to survive in other ways.
The sun is showing itself, but it's not doing much to stop the cold. I climb a bit higher, accidentally scraping my left ring finger on a rogue branch. The pine scent is sticking to me like vanilla from the bakery. The tranquility is calming. If anything happens today, I'll be ready. I ignore the small, slow trickle of blood trailing down my hand and push myself still higher, to the thinnest and youngest branches. It's not the first scar I've received from this tree.
I'm high enough now to see rooftops in the distance. The town square is too far east, but I can view my own home, a one-floor house that was standard in District Seven. We're not as bad off as the ending Districts, like Eleven, Ten, Twelve, but we are by no means rich. I pull out a stained cloth from my pocket, pressing it to the small cut on my finger and patting at the blood, helplessly trying to erase the red.
Summer allows the whole District to heat like an oven, the temperature climbing. My parents are no doubt still asleep, but I'm not sure about Janet. My family gets upset when I run off like this on Reaping day. But I can't help it. My stomach is twisting in warning, a dread for the Reaping taking place at midday.
I scan the horizon but it seems oblivious to the day. Today two of the innocent kids from my District will be taken to the Capitol and slaughtered for the amusement of the pigs who live there. The whole town seems green this time of year: the trees growing in every available plot, the weeds, and wildflowers that flourish under their shade, the grass that swarms off of the dirt and onto streets. Green is a beautiful color.
I sigh and glance at myself. I must look like a cavewoman, a complete mess. I have to get home and fix myself up. I ho down the branches out of my tree, sighing once I get to the ground. I like being alone up there, but I have to get home before much more time has passed.
The village is quiet. It doesn't take me long to find my way back to my house, but the new plants growing all around are a bit distracting. It's a perfect breeding ground for plants here- that's why we have so many trees.
I try to close the door behind me quietly, but someone comes to investigate anyway. "Fern!? You snuck out again, didn't you?" My cousin asks as she walks into the kitchen from her room that she shares with me.
"Sorry, but I felt like I needed it," I explain shortly. Janet collapses into a chair, sighing.
"You can't do this anymore, Fern. You're getting older." Janet tells me after a minute, getting up to start a fire. Then she sets a pot full of water over the flames to boil. Apparently the ruckus was loud enough to wake my parents, who come downstairs rubbing their eyes.
"Oh, you two are awake. We were wondering about the noise." My mother tells us as she takes over breakfast. "Both of you need to get into your Reaping outfits."
My father nods and the two of us head into our room to find two outfits laying on our bed (we had to share after Janet came). One was smaller, a cream color, and long enough to go to about my knees. I assume that one is mine and change it quickly behind the feeble screen our parents gave us for privacy. It feels especially flowy around my knees, a feeling you don't get often in District Seven.
It's Janet's turn next and I get started on detangling my hair. It's usually like this, and lately, I've been thinking about cutting it, but not today. Janet walks out from behind the screen, looking absolutely beautiful.
I sit in the kitchen, finally succeeding in detangling my hair. Soon it's good enough for me to braid tightly into a French Braid. With that detail, I'm done with my appearance, but something doesn't feel right. It's like the trees are yelling at me to get away. My skin prickles, but I ignore it. I sit silently at the kitchen table, waiting for breakfast to be done. I would help, but household tasks were never really my specialty. I always preferred to help my father in the lumberyard or in the forests, resulting in all the scars on my hands, arms, and legs.
"Fern?" Janet says quietly from behind me. I turn to look at her. "I have something for you."
She presses something into the palm of my hand. I'm wordless as I look at it, taking in the carving of the wood. It's a wooden hairpin- heavy and roughly cut around the edges, with a bit of cheap paint swept across the top in a design. Somehow, I love it already.
Quietly, I push the pin into my hair, allowing it to grab onto the long dark auburn strands.
"Thanks," I say softly, fingering the pin. It was about the size of a tribute slip, which was just a bit ironic.
Vidar Yonson P.O.V.
I slept in today. Since I live in District Seven, the Reapings don't start immediately in the morning. But I'm beginning to regret it because now fatigue hangs over me like a cloud just above my head. My room is pretty cut off from the rest of the house, so my aunt and uncle pretty much let me take care of myself. I'm fifteen and it's been a few years since my mother died. I'm used to it, and I've started liking being alone.
But today is different from every other day, obviously. Today is the day two of my peers or classmates will be sent off to die. And there is a chance that I'll be one of those two, of course. There are others that have more slips in than me, but it would be horrible of me to wish that upon someone.
I skip breakfast so there's more food for my uncle, aunt, and my little cousin, who is only eight. Little enough to not be entered into the Reaping, thankfully.
I dress in a dark green button-down shirt, brown pants, and a brown leather jacket. I look at myself in the mirror and suddenly realize I look like a tree. It's too late to change anything, so I just head over to the square, hoping nobody else notices. Usually, I make a point to get there early, so I'm one of the first to arrive. In the square is only another twenty or so tributes. Almost all of them are twelve.
I stand in the fifteen-year-old section, still as a rock and talking to no one. Today is solemn. I've already got a reputation for being quiet, though, and no one tries to make conversation. I've never done anything especially violent, but because I'm not that interested in socializing, people see me as a thug of sorts. The only person who sees past that no matter what is my cousin, Rhean. She's a sweetheart, and I want to protect her no matter what. If that means going without meals at times or working extra hours in the lumberyards, I'm okay with that. I can handle pain.
More and more people start arriving. I spot this girl I know, Fern, arriving with her family. I see her in the woods sometimes. She and I have an unspoken agreement of companionship- of sorts. We know each other as more than strangers, but we're less than friends. We both prefer solitude.
Soon the square is completely filled up with people. All of them are anxious or scared, even the ones with no family or friends in the Reaping pool. No one likes the Games, even if enemies get reaped.
Fern Asenath P.O.V.
I slide into an open space in the fifteen-year-old section. When I first arrived, Janet squeezed my hand once and went off to the seventeen-year-old section. I know she gets really nervous with these types of things, and that makes her jumpy. I only have to wait a few minutes for the Reaping to start. District Seven's escort is a thin, short lady with a green curly afro for hair, dark skin, and tattoos all over her body- even her face. Her name is Sarah Hughes. She was extremely strict about everything, so the second she steps onto the stage, the whole square goes totally silent.
"Welcome to the Reapings for the 87th Hunger Games." She announces tunelessly. "Please turn your attention to the Capitol-sponsored video above."
Everyone watches the same video that they have for years. It plays up the Capitol's fake innocence and makes the Districts look like they brought their misfortune upon themselves. I hate it, but soon, in only a few years, I'll be out of the Reaping. In reality, it doesn't take very long to be over.
"Okay. And now for the Reaping. For the girls, we have Fern Asenath." Sarah announces, staring at me the second she can pick me out of the crowd. I've also heard that Sarah can be very competitive about her tributes, so she's probably sizing me up. I know that she'll underestimate me, and most likely so will everyone else. Somewhere in the audience, I can hear my parents gasping and crying, and I can see Janet collapse onto her friend. I march onto the stage, determined to look strong. I'm upset on the inside, but I won't let that show.
Sarah doesn't even give me a second glance once I reach the stage, instead reaching straight for the boy's bowl. "And District Seven's male tribute is Vidar Yonson."
Vidar Yonson P.O.V.
When she called Fern's name, my heart felt a little prick inside of it, proof that I do have emotions. But I didn't do anything to draw attention to myself. The worst was yet to come. Sarah Hughes still hadn't called the boys' name.
I look at Fern, expecting to see her upset, maybe even crying despite her solitary personality. Instead, she looks almost angry and marches up to the stage with conviction. "And District Seven's male tribute is Vidar Yonson."
For a second, I think nothing. But when my brain starts working again and I start moving towards the stage, I realize I'm not that surprised. After all, I do live in a poor district and there was always a chance I would get reaped. So I walk to the stage, trying to seem as emotionless as possible. With all my practice over the years, it isn't that hard. But I feel a crack in my chest when I hear Rhean crying and trying to run to me. On instinct, I glance back in time to see my aunt pick her up and sink into the crowd. With that, I hurry to the stage, still emotionless-looking.
I can't change the fact that I was reaped, and I doubt anyone will volunteer for me, so all I can do now is try to win. For Rhean's sake. After all, I don't know if she could handle my death like my aunt and uncle could. Sure, they would be sad, but eventually, they would move on. The thing is, Rhean is barely eight years old. If she has to watch me die on TV it could traumatize her for years to come, and I can't let that happen.
Sarah wastes no time in bringing us to the Justice Building, where I'm brought to a room to say my final goodbyes. I'm not that popular at school, so I know no one will visit me from my class. The only person I can think of that might see me is Fern, but as luck may have it, she's going into the arena too. I decide to just sit back and wait for my family to arrive and say their last goodbyes.
Surprisingly, it takes a while for them to come in. When they do, it's with a big bang as Rhean rushes through the doors and jumps into my legs. "Where are you going, Vidah?" She asks, upset. She still speaks a bit weirdly as a result of her youth, not quite used to proper English.
"Away, but I'll come back soon," I lie through my teeth. "Be good for your parents. I love you guys," I address the last part to all three of them. I don't want them to think I'm heartless, they are my family, after all.
"We love you too." My uncle replies, hugging my crying aunt with tears budding in his own eyes. "We know you'll try your hardest to come back to us."
"Yeah, see you soon." Rhean mumbles, looking a bit upset and pouting childishly but adorably.
"Don't be like that!" I proceed to tickle her, but I only get a few in before the door slams open. A rough-looking peacekeeper is standing there. My aunt and uncle glance at me wordlessly and pick up Rhean, leaving the room without a struggle. Rhean screams and cries, as does my aunt, but I stand strong to give them a good last image of me.
I sit back down on the soft bench, trying not to cry now that they're gone. I still know that this can't be changed- I will being going into the arena. But what also doesn't change is that it hurts.
Fern Asenath P.O.V.
It doesn't take more than a minute for Janet to run into my room at the Justice Building. I bet she ran right through the crowds and pushed people out of the way so she could get here sooner. She comes in without my parents, so there's more time for her to say her own goodbyes.
"I love you, Fern. You're my sister by heart even if we were born cousins." Janet says tearily. Even though she's often off-put by my quietness and how much time I spend in my own head, we are close. "Please take my pin into the arena….for your token." Janet hugs me softly, crying into my shoulder. It's a bit dramatic, but I sort of expected it. She can get emotional very easily. Hesitantly, I hug back, not used to this much attention. A bit of me wants to cry with her, but it's a minuscule part and I squash it with ease.
"Of course." I agree, reaching up to trace the design of the hand-carved pin. Janet smiles.
"I know you can do this because you're smart, Fern. Please come back." I nod into her shoulder. Janet's only two years older, but she's much taller. The girl was always more social, too.
"I need to go, your mom and dad will be in next," Janet says after another minute of just holding me.
"Mm." I acknowledge. As she said, my parents enter almost immediately after.
My mom walks over and sweeps me into a hug. "I love you. We all do." I know my parents, like Janet, always feel a bit ill at ease with the way I work; the way I socialize and think is different from others. A lot of people think I'm cold, and I guess they're right.
My father joins my mother and turns it into the group hug. I'm being squished, so I can't return the gesture myself, but they're upset enough not to notice. When they pull back, I make no move towards conversation, so it becomes a bit awkward, but they stick it out until a Peacekeeper comes for them. No one else comes to visit me, as expected. I don't have any friends. My peers think I'm strange.
It doesn't take long for Sarah Hughes to come for me, so I assume Vidar didn't have many visitors either. She ushers us into a rare car from the Capitol and then into a train at the station. It's the first train I've ever seen that doesn't transport lumber. The two designs are vastly different, because this one truly is fancy-looking, even from the outside. Sarah brings us inside and it's off to the Capitol.
Remember to review! How do you like the new characters? How do you think they'll perform in the Games and what's going to happen next? I really just want reviews...