District Six, everyone! Last year home to Chandler Mathews and Lucia Greene, now supporting our girl Noalee Tyler from Thgfan9 (formerly istheplacewhereIloveyou) and our boy Kalen Ram from Thomas J. Flynn! (Ironic thing here: these two authors were district partners last year as well, with Sara Ross and Luis Thomsen from D12)
Oh wow I can't shut up about Rubber Rooms and Deadlines tonight :/ too bad for yoouuu
Enjoy! XD
DISTRICT SIX FEMALE: NOALEE TYLER
I tense up the second that I realize someone is following me. I can't let them know I've caught on to them, otherwise they'll only move in. Still, I have to escape before they catch up on their own. It's too dangerous on the streets of Six to let something like this continue for long. Of course, it's Reaping Day morning, so I don't think anyone would be so stupid as to try something bad when there are people in the streets, but you never know. There are some creeps out there.
I duck into a brightly lit shop and dash around some freestanding shelves to conceal myself. I know my shadow will have seen my detour, but they won't be able to find me without following me inside. Nobody would trust someone loitering at the entrance to a modest shop, so they'll come inside to look more natural. And I have a good view of the door from my hiding place.
My heart pounds as I wait for someone else to enter the store and I begin to gnaw on the inside of my cheek anxiously. It's only been a few seconds, but I want to throw this stalker and get on my way as soon as possible.
The door of the shop swings open, creaking wearily, and a huge man steps in. He's swathed in a dark coat- it's warm outside, he must be roasting- and what little I can see of his face is dark and craggy. I shrink back against the shelf, just wanting to disappear. This is the man who is following me? What is going on?
Glancing around the store casually, the man strolls to the counter and strikes up a conversation with the shopkeeper. I edge around the back of the shelves and move toward the door, trying to stay low to the ground and out of sight.
Finally, the dark man directs his full attention to the store owner and I dash out the door in an adrenaline rush. I slip through the clumps of people on the street to get a good twenty meters away from the store before glancing back. The man has not emerged and there is no sign of anyone on my trail. I lost him. Good. I turn cautiously back to my route and walk a little faster in the direction of the town square. I promised Mom and Dad I would get there on time. It's the first year they've let me go alone, and I had to fight to get that much privilege.
I only make it a few meters further before someone clamps their sweaty hand over my mouth and hauls me into a dingy alleyway that I was unfortunately standing right beside. I squeak and try and scream, but they've got a secure hold on me. In fact, this person drags me along so quickly that I can barely squirm. The blood pounds in my ears and I grab, white-knuckled, at the hand over my mouth.
Without ceremony I'm dumped on the gravel of the alley. I leap to my feet and whirl around to face my abductor, fists clenched. I'm expecting to see the scary man from the store, but the figure is shorter and lighter. And now, rolling on the ground laughing.
"Gotcha!" Hayden cries between snorts of laughter. I relax, but not much seeing as I'm more than a little shocked from being 'kidnapped'.
"What was that, you moron?" I cry, running my hand through my shoulder length brown hair.
"That was me scaring you, sweetheart," Hayden replies, standing up and walking over to me, "and it worked perfectly." He lays an arm across my shoulders, which I wriggle away from and punch the boy hard on the shoulder. He staggers back, "What was that?"
"That was me getting revenge, sweetheart," I mock, "and it worked perfectly." We both laugh at that. "Wait, were you the one trailing me? How did I not see you?"
He smirks. "I followed you into that shop all right, but I slipped in right behind that giant of a man and it was easy enough to hide." I can practically see Hayden's mind switching gears. "Come on, Noa, I need your help. There's a reason I came to find you." He starts to lead me out of the alley.
"What, other than the fact that we're dating and we're also best friends and you know you want to spend time with me?"
"Yeah, that too. But seriously, this is important." So I hold his hand and follow him through the streets. It's a while before Hayden slows down, but he's headed toward a back street.
"Another alley, Hayden? What's going on?"
"You know how there was a gang fight planned for last night?" I nod in reply, getting more and more wary every instant. "Well, there were complications."
"Weren't the Peacekeepers going to break it up before it started? I mean, my parents knew about it. It couldn't have gone on, could it?"
"Oh, the Peacekeepers were there. But the gangs didn't want them there. A few guys from each protested and some kids got hurt."
"Was it-"
"Look for yourself." I have to cling to Hayden to keep from barging into the alley. "His gang was the first to retreat. They didn't even know he was still there. The other guys were carried away pretty quickly."
Seeing the body, I hurry over to the familiar figure lying on the ground. There are dark bruises on his arms and face and a long cut on the left side of his face runs from his temple to his jaw. "Ace, why did you have to be brave?" I mutter, kneeling down beside the older boy. He's unconscious, but breathing strong. He'll live.
"I can't carry him by myself and right now you're the person I trust to help," Hayden says, "His gang doesn't know he's still here. We have to get him out ourselves." I nod and move around to lift Ace's shoulders; Hayden grabs his legs. Together we can lift him off the ground and carry him a few meters.
"Back to the gang's place?" I suggest. Hayden nods. We take back streets to the abandoned building, which was once a storage space for car parts. Now Ace's gang hangs out there.
Hayden knocks on the back door- four times slow and three times fast. The door is flung open at the sound of the code- Ace told us once so we could find him- and suddenly Hayden and I are face to face with two haggard teenagers. They tower over me- well, everyone towers over me but these men especially. One of them, Wolfboy, takes one glance at us and laughs sharply. "Come to join up at last, kids?"
Finder elbows him in the side and motions downward, directing Wolfboy's attention to the figure Hayden and I are holding. Wolf shuts up pretty quick.
"Get in here," Finder hisses, and pulls us inside. It smells like smoke. Finder drags Ace onto a table when we make it into the building.
"What's this?" the leader of the gang, Drakon, comes into the room. "Wolfboy, Finder- why are these kids here?" Wolf dashes over to Ace, his dreadlocks flying everywhere.
"They found Ace," Finder says, setting protective hands on mine and Hayden's shoulders. Drakon promptly ignores us and strides to the table.
"He's hurt, but not too bad," I pipe up.
"C'mere," Wolf says, "I think he's waking up." I run over to the table, pushing to see Ace and forcing Drakon to the side in the process. Hayden hangs further back.
Ace stirs and we all crowd around him expectantly. His gray eyes flicker open and he focuses on us, almost flinching back when he sees so many people hovering over him. "Nice to see that you're all still alive. Noa, what are you here for?"
"Hayden and I carried you here, idiot," I grin. Ace tries to sit up but it doesn't work. He groans and collapses back, holding his head.
"Ace, head trauma doesn't mix well with waking up," Drakon says dryly.
"You're telling me. At least this way I'm going to sleep and not to the reaping."
Finder nervously glances at Hayden and me, "We've got two kids who need to be there, though."
"I'm no kid, Finder, I'm fourteen!" I cross my arms and plant my feet.
"I'm nineteen. You and your little boyfriend both need to scram. We don't have plans to get caught out here because two outsiders did Ace a favor. Peacekeepers are on alert today- if one followed you here we're all busted."
"Ace!" I complain, hoping the older boy will stand up for us.
"Get on your way, Noa. And Hayden," he mutters. With a dangerous glare from Drakon, we reluctantly exit the building and start towards the ceremony. Hayden holds my hand as we walk.
"Look, Noa, you've got blood under your fingernails." I glance at my ragged nails- sure enough, there's dark red there, probably from Ace's wound. There's green too, from paint.
"I'm going to be murdered because we're late to the reaping, and you're noticing the blood under my fingernails? Geez, love you too, Hayden."
As we walk I brush myself off and rub at the dirt I'm sure covers my face. I don't want to be killed twice, for both my timing and my dirty face.
"Noa, you're trying to rub your freckles off now," Hayden pulls my hand away from my face.
"Not a bad idea, actually," I say sharply.
We reach the square as my father is finishing the Treaty of Treason. Great. I can almost hear the lecture I'll get later. "How were you so late? Why are you so dirty? What were you and that Hayden boy up to?" I sigh and hold out my hand for the Peacekeeper to stab with a needle. Hayden does the same, making a face at me as he's jabbed. I allow a small smile.
We're walking to our sections. "Look at your mom," Hayden whispers, "she looks like she's about to have a conniption."
"Hayden, my mom is made of conniptions." But he's right, I can see her onstage and she's focused on me, glaring at me like she just saw me commit murder. Well then, guess who's in trouble.
The escort pulls out a name from the girls' reaping bowl. "NOALEE TYLER!"
Just my luck. My parents leap up from their chairs in astonishment as the district falls to gossip.
"Noalee Tyler? The Mayor's daughter?"
"The one who convinced her parents to give her more freedom?"
"Not her!"
I bite my lip to keep the anger and shock and fear from escaping and I can feel the sting of tears behind my eyes. I will not be seen crying. I will not be seen crying. It's hard, so hard, to walk up to the stage, but I do it. Because I am strong and I will not be seen crying. My parents are right behind me, both of them aghast (and Mom horrified that I'm not wearing a dress), but I do not acknowledge them.
We've gotten a new escort, after that drug addict from last year I'm thankful, and the effeminate young man brightly shakes my hand before asking for volunteers- none, of course, nobody's insane like last year's Lucia Greene- and then turning to the boys' reaping bowl. I face the audience and scan the crowd for my friends. Hayden stands agape at the back of the crowd. Everyone is thinking it- I'm dead. Fourteen, petite, and the Mayor's daughter. It's a wonder I even survive with my friends on the streets. How could I possibly win the Hunger Games?
If Chandler Mathews could make it to the top seven last year- he died by muttation, too- I can win the Games. I have to. And I refuse to be seen crying.
DISTRICT SIX MALE: KALEN RAM
Forget good and evil. Forget them. What do they matter? Are you good or are you evil? Can you be one or the other? Isn't everyone 'both'? Just forget good and evil. They aren't even close to accurate. You can be corrupt, you can be kind, you can be a sleazy cheater like my father, but good and evil are vague. There are some who say my father is good, there are some who say he is evil. But I can say, and people wouldn't argue with me, that he's lazy and a cheat.
I choose to measure people by their work instead. You work hard, you try your best, you don't slack off and take the easy way out, then you're worth something. See? Simple. If you're diligent you earn respect and get profit. I don't care what it is you're working hard on- the ones who strive are the ones who should come out on top, whether they flaunt their success or not. I hide mine, because if the world knew I'd be thrown in jail. I never said honesty was a factor in this. Just hard work.
If you're lazy, you're corrupt. You get used to having things handed to you on a silver platter and you don't try for anything. There's no work and no success to be earned. There's no reward. The people like that- the Capitol, the rich- don't deserve my respect. In fact, they deserve my hatred. It's because of them the hardworking people are shoved to the back of the line and made poor. The least I can do is work hard to give them something extra, even the playing field a little bit. But only the hardworking. If someone sits there feeling sorry for their poor self, they're just as lazy as the rich and don't get anything.
Once upon a time I was compared to a thief called Robin Hood. I'd rather stick with Kalen, thanks. People don't need to know what I'm up to, and so far everyone knows but there's no good proof so I go around freely. Being a 'Robin Hood' is like giving a confession. Besides, Robin Hood helped the weak, and why? The weak need to stand up for themselves. I'm here for myself.
They think they could catch me. I'm too careful for them. If there was one thing that my dad taught me, it was how to look after myself.
Since he left me to live alone when he got a job in the Capitol, it's been a good thing. With my work, I made the money that he left- that I was only supposed to stretch over a few months- last for at least triple that. Hard work takes you far.
Although it could have lasted longer if some Peacekeepers didn't require such hefty bribes. Ugh.
I'm strolling alongside the polluted river just outside of town, a buffeting wind apparently trying to pull out my short red hair, when I'm accosted by a boy a year younger than me. "James," I greet my friend. He smiles wickedly and holds up a deck of playing cards- my cards. He's pickpocketed me as salutations. Kleptomaniac much? I roll my eyes and snatch back the cards.
"So, what's the plan today?" James says, bubbling over with excitement.
"Nothing. We go to the Reaping ceremony and then go home and lie low."
He deflates.
"It's too dangerous today, boy. There was that gang fight last night and the Peacekeepers are on edge after they had to quell it. And it's the reaping. There are always extra officials. We won't risk it today, we're not stupid."
"Unless we are," James jokes. I crack a smile.
"If we're stupid then this district is populated by morons and cavemen. C'mon, we've got to be normal today." James hesitates before he nods but then we're off to the town square, early but no so early as to stand out. The Peacekeeper with the needle watches us suspiciously as we sign in but there's nothing the man can do so we pass with no consequences. I smirk at James as we pass. Pissing off the Capitol officials is way too much fun.
I find myself a spot in the sixteens section, standing close to the edge to continue conversing with James, who has taken residence in the fifteens. The boys around us don't speak to us- the only acknowledgement of our presence is a general step away, like we'll rob them blind while we're just standing here.
They all suspect something, but they cannot prove anything. It's great. Everyone should be on edge like me, it makes you sharp.
Then again, if everyone was alert my life wouldn't be half as fun.
Slowly the rest of the sections fill up, but there's still an aura of suspicion around James and me; still no one wants to come near us although some are forced to by lack of space. I don't even mind, who has time to care what other people think?
Mayor Adrian Tyler steps forward to the microphone and clears his throat. James, determined to follow my lead and act normal, actually pays attention, leaving me with nothing better to do.
"…Panem rose from the ravaged land, a shining Capitol and twelve outlying districts. In the aftermath of rebellion, the Hunger Games were put in place as a reminder of the sacrifice the country had made. Twelve young men and twelve young women were sent as tributes for the first Hunger Games, a battle for survival to remind the districts of what had been done to save the country. The victors would receive great honors for their districts…" okay, this is old already. It's like listening to a teacher in school. And I don't exactly go to school anymore. Boring.
Mayor Tyler finishes and retreats to sit beside his wife, allowing the escort to step up. He's a new escort, a young man dressed in at least seven clashing floral prints and with flowers braided into his excessively long light blue hair. Yikes. My dad had said something about last year's escort overdosing on drugs, so no big surprise with the fact that we have a new escort. But still- surprise.
"Hello, District Six!" he chirps brightly. Chirps. How is this thing a man? Yet, his voice and face are decidedly masculine… somehow… "How are you lovely folks doing today?" I hate him already. He doesn't get a single reply, which makes me smile, but it doesn't faze him at all. Unfortunately. "I'm your new escort, Varro Catiline, and it's time to select your tributes for the Eighteenth Annual Hunger Games!"
There's a huge collective eye roll at this. I contribute.
"Let's go traditional and select our ladies first, shall we?" Varro suggests. Let's just not choose anyone and say we did, all right? But of course there's not actually a choice to be made because all this idiot is doing is choosing which two kids to die- let's face it, we don't have a chance. I watch Varro as he prances over to the girls' reaping bowl and daintily- daintily- pull out a name. "NOALEE TYLER!"
Well, that's unlucky. Noalee is one of the few girls in the district I actually respect. Her dad is the Mayor- too bad for him I suppose- but Noalee had her own personal little rebellion and gained freedom from that. She made her own way in the world.
The girl, short with choppy dark hair and freckles, marches up to the stage with her jaw clenched and fingers nervously tapping against her ripped jeans. She wasn't in her section- in fact she had just walked from the registration area with a boy. Hayden Ellis- James knows him from the little thief circles.
Noalee shakes hands quickly with Varro and turns to the crowd, staring vacantly out over everyone's heads. She's trying not to focus on the events, I can tell. She does a good job of hiding her emotions but everyone can tell that she's trying to conceal them. I tense up as Varro goes for another name, this time from the boys' reaping bowl so I actually have to worry.
"KALEN RAM!"
You know what? Of course it is. I make it onstage without breaking down, but I refuse to touch the escort. Varro Catiline is the foulest person here. Noalee and I shake hands, and I see an almost broken look in her eyes as I look down at the much shorter girl.
She made it so far, and these stupid Capitol sacrifices will strip her of everything she gained, in a week. Not to mention me. I've done so much, there's so much to still do, so much to still prove and make happen and so much work to be done. I will not, cannot let the Hunger Games take that away.
Of course, if they do, I'll be dead so it won't exactly matter.
Varro leads the way into the Justice Building, but Noalee's parents cling to her as she follows behind, leaving me totally unwatched and unguarded. I'd have thought they would keep a closer eye on a suspected criminal. Silly me, the people in charge are much too lazy for that.
Out of nowhere I have a bit of an itching palm, and I can see a fat coin purse sitting wide open in Varro's hideous floral jacket pocket. It's a simple maneuver to slip my hand into the purse and pull out a shiny gold coin. A token. My token.
The life of a thief, no?
I sit patiently (well, sort of patiently) in the visiting room while James is on his way to the Justice Building. It doesn't take long, but of course the overwhelming swirl of thoughts in my head expands the time frame to 'forever'.
I wonder what it's like to die? Painful. Final.
Was it rigged? I don't know.
Who will I be fighting? People stronger than me. People who have trained- Careers is the name for them now. Smart people. Young people.
What will happen when I kill? Someone else will die. What will happen to me when I kill? I don't know.
Why should I even bother playing their game? What would stop me from just staying true to myself and jumping off the plates?
"Kalen, you'd better come back home." I jump, thinking James has entered the room, but I have started thinking aloud. I shake my head and lean back against the overstuffed chair. The thoughts dissipate.
"Kalen, you'd better come back home," James is the speaker this time.
"Of course I'll come back. What, you think I'm stupid enough to die?"
"Be serious."
"I am wild!"
"Kalen. You'll be fighting people older, stronger, tougher, smarter than you. Wise up now and find your opportunity. That's what you've taught me, is find the right moment. To work hard and never stop. It's your turn, okay man?"
I lay a hand on James's shoulder, staring him right in the eyes. "I understand. Now what? You plan to talk strategy with me?"
"Kalen, sometimes you're so sarcastic that you can't process anything else."
"That's sort of the point right now, James. I'd rather not get kicked in the teeth with the fact that I have to go fight to the death."
"Congratulations, and I hope you remember something of what I'm saying to you when this agitated energy wears off."
"Try not to get kicked in the teeth while I'm gone, okay, James? Keep working hard. Just because I'm gone doesn't mean you can slack off. Actually, that makes me sound like my dad. Never mind." The younger boy sullenly rolls his eyes and nods.
"And you try not to die. Deal?"
"Deal."
Tell me what you thought! :)
Three reapings left: Districts 1, 9, and 11!