*phew* Hi people. I'm sorry this has taken so long, and I'm a little bit scared this won't reach expectations. Due to my slight stupidity, there are obviously more characters than there are numbers on a dice. So I will be using a random generator to find who WINS, but not who dies. I'll be choosing those myself. Sorry! XC And the writing style may confuse you. Sometimes, I will write SOME characters in first person, and others in 3rd. Other times, I might write all in first, or all in 3rd. But I will make sure you all know who I am writing about. Well, I guess I'll start writing now. May the odds be ever in your favor!
Katniss p.o.v
President Paylor had commanded that all mentors be present at the Reaping. I was annoyed, but Haymitch, even though he was extremely drunk, was there at my Reaping, so I was sitting at a long table with the other mentors, Peeta at my side. I had mixed feelings about him coming to this. A lot of it just hit…to close to home. Effie had refused to pull the balls, so Paylor was doing it. As usual, it started out with the speech of why the Hunger Games were established in the first place. But, Paylor had made an addition.
"Last year, the Districts rose and rebelled against the Capitol, who had held them in chains since the beginning of Panem. Who had killed their children for years and years. The Capitol had sat in the lap of luxury for too long, and the Districts decided it was time to bring them down. Thanks to Peeta Mellark and Katniss Everdeen,-"
I winced. Why did he say my name? I felt a tear coming, but I pushed it away. And then suddenly, I felt Peeta take my hand. I looked over at him in shock, and he gave me the saddest, most beautiful smile I have ever seen on a face. These sweet moments of clarity were pure joy to us, and I was shocked that he was squeezing my hand instead of my neck. "-and the hundreds of other rebels, the Districts are free. And the Capitol must now pay with their own blood, like the Districts have done. Let the Capitol Games begin. May the odds be ever in your favor."
Paylor generated the globe in which the girl's names were being held. Each eligible child of the Capitol had been entered three times. The globe was giant, and the balls were tiny. He pulled out a ball, and read a name. "Layalee Crane."
Oh my gosh. Seneca's daughter.
Layalee Crane's p.o.v.
Paylor read my name, my little sister screamed. The crowd gasped, and tears were in my eyes, but I pushed them away. I turned to Isobel. She was sobbing. And I felt the love and protectiveness rise in her. Oh my gosh. She was going to volunteer. "Isobel Crane if you volunteer for me, I will hate you forever," I spat. I brushed her hair behind her ear, and ran up to the stage. I would never let Izzy volunteer for me. I would never be able to deal with the fact that I let my sister die for me. So now, I will die for her. And I guess, in a way, I'm okay with that. At least I'll see Dad again. Maybe. President Paylor shakes my hand, and I notice he avoids looking into my eyes. Understandable. He gestures to a row of chairs, and I take a seat. 23 tributes to go. It might take a while.
Katniss p.o.v
Paylor goes to the boy's side, and takes another ball. "Conner Darkwing." The name isn't familiar. His parents must have been close to the Games somehow. Maybe they were funders. I hear three little girl wails. And I flinch.
Conner.
My name is called, and I hear my little sisters cry. I resist the urge to call out to them. The boys around me clap me on the back. They understand. Luckily I got corralled with the tough ones. In my mind I am screaming curse words, but now I am just looking around for my parents.
"Get up here, Conner." I hear Paylor say.
I'm shaking, but I hope that I manage to walk up the steps without looking like a terrified fawn. When I get up there, I turn to find my little sisters, squinting. I see them, holding each other and shaking. My little girls. I smile sadly and blow kisses at them, then turn to the President.
Paylor shakes my hand, and I squeeze his extra hard. Then I nod to the mentors, Layalee Crane, and take my seat. "Shit," I think.
Katniss
I am surprised when Conner nods back. And a bit impressed. Maybe I could request this one. I look down at the button in front of me. The mentors were informed that when they want a tribute, to press a button in front of them. Someone has already claimed Layalee. I am about to press my button when I see a blur of vision.
Peeta has hit his button with a loud smack. He stands, and walks over to Conner's chair.
Conner.
I hear a loud smack and turn to see Peeta Mellark walking towards me. Woah. I am a bit intimidated, it's no secret what the Capitol did to him. The Rebels made sure everyone knew. And everyone was outraged. Sure, they hated that the Rebels were taking away their toys, but no one messed with the Star-Crossed Couple.
He was still walking, so I stood too. He shook my hand, and looked straight into my eyes. I resisted the urge to look away, and I shook his hand back. We nodded at each other, some kind of understanding passing between us. Then, he turned around and walked back, and I resumed watching the Reaping.
Katniss
I was almost annoyed at Peeta for taking my tribute. But not really. He didn't take my hand again when he sat down.
Paylor called another name. "Silvera Mortire."
Silvera
I stifle a gasp. "Oh frick, frick, frick." But I am a little curious. I don't want to go up there, but I want to. The one thing I really want to do is run into my parent's arms. But I'm pretty much a goner now. I trudge to the stage, ditch the President, and hug Layalee Crane.
"I'm sorry," she says to me.
"Me too," I say with a thin smile.
President Paylor walks to the boy's side. "Lavi Fay."
Oh no. Not Lavi. He was the hottest boy at her school. So sweet, such a charmer. Layalee gasps beside me and I know we are thinking the same thing.
Lavi
I hear half the girls in their corrals whine, and I resist the urge to laugh. Yes! I knew I was a hotrod! I jog up to the stage like running out of a football tunnel, and shake the President's hand. I give a winning smile to Layalee and Silvera, then take a seat next to Conner. We shake hands, then ignore each other. I'm thinking about alliances right now. I don't want to do this alone. Too much work. Maybe if I partner up with someone, preferably a girl, she can do the work, and then after most of them are dead and she's killed the rest, I'll walk away a free man. Yup, I like that plan. That's my plan.
Paylor says another name. "Chandra Lemon." Oh. The Gamemaker's daughter?
Chandra
Oh no. Oh no. Please no. I pinch myself. Wake up Chandra, wake up. I back up, running into the catty girls behind me, who push me away, out into the aisle. I walk up to the President, shaking uncontrollably. He shakes my hand and sends me over to the girls, who eye me, whisper their condolences. I nod. I don't trust myself to speak without screaming horrifically.
"Thomas Hopkins."
Thomas
I stifle a groan. Crap. But I was getting noticed. I walk up to the stage, and eye the crowd carefully. There are SO many people. So many. Good. I shake the President's hand, then Lavi and Conner's. I don't know either of them. I know my girlfriend is crying. Sparkle always wears her emotions on her sleeves. At least, I hope she's crying! What kind of girlfriend doesn't cry when her boyfriend is Reaped? The sucky kind, that's what kind.
Paylor says a name. A girl. "Raenix Avery."
Nix
I am furious. I didn't want to be in the Hunger Games. What the heck is wrong with everyone? Get me out! I don't want to go up there! I want to kill everyone in this square, that's what I want to do, starting with Paylor and all the mentors. This is their fault. We could have gone into a stinking peaceful existence, but noooo. Darn Katniss Everdeen. They all just had to have their revenge. I sprint up to the stage, ignore the President, and slam into my chair. I hear a mentor laugh behind me. Sounds like that Haymitch guy from District 12. I want to get my hands on him. Layalee Crane starts to whisper something to me.
"Shut up," I spit. I do not. Want to talk. To anyone.
Katniss
Woah. I watch this Raenix Avery girl sprint up. She's fast. Looks strong. And a little mean too. She'd be easy to mentor. Because I can tell by the way that she glared at me as she passed, she hates me. And, since she hates me, I might as well hate her too. No skin off my nose. It's easy to mentor someone you hate. But I don't press my button.
Paylor speaks. "Sharlay Lamont."
Didn't they just pull a girl?
Link.
I groan. Sharlay. Darn my parents! "Anything to get out of the house," I joke loudly, but internally, I am on high alert. Oh man. I walk up to the stage, and I can feel the mentors taking in my strange appearance. Yes, my clothes don't exactly match. Suck it. Why yes, I am wearing pants in summer, and yes, I do have gloves on. Do you have a problem with that? I adjust my glasses, shake the President's hand. "An honor, sir," I say sarcastically, and he gives me this death glare that honestly frightens me. But I give him a sunshine bright smile and sit down next to the other boys. I'm going to die.
Paylor crosses to the girl's side. He pulls a ball out. "Sophia Albanov."
Woah. She's little.
Sophia
I can't say I was shocked. I have the worst luck. Honestly, when I passed the betters, I almost put a hundred dollars in that my name would be called, but if I did get called, I wouldn't be around to claim the money anyway. I walk up to the stage, and regrettably shake the President's hand. Ew. I touched him. But then I take a seat next to this fuming girl. Ugh. Emotions are overrated. It's not like I have anyone to waste emotions on. My petite frame is too small for the chair. My feet swing over the edge of the chair. I hate being tiny.
"Leonardo Scapes."
Sucker.
Leo
I do a double-take. Did he just say my name? I turn to the guy beside me. "Did he just say Leonardo Scapes?" I say quietly. Dejectedly. It's a rhetorical question. I'm dead meat. I love you, Selina. Mom. Pop. Nice knowing you, friends. There's no one I'm going to kill someone. So I guess I'll get killed instead. Don't get me wrong, I'll try and avoid it..but…it's inevitable.
I walk up to the stage, shake Paylor's hand, and sit. This sucks.
Paylor speaks. "Rozalin Konzoy."
Rozlin
Oh crap. I really don't want to die. Terror rises up in me, and it is unwelcome. I keep my face stoic, walk up to the stage. I sit. For the first time in my life, I hate the Games.
"Jembi Hallock."
Jembi
When my name is called, there is a reasonable amount of shock, and fear. My twin has not yet been called. It is extremely selfish and stupid of me, but I hope she is. I can't do it without Jemba. My black afro bounces as I walk up to the stage, my deeply dark skin contrasts with Paylor's light tone. I sit, and I see one of the guys shy away from me. I smirk. Maybe I could do this without Jemba. But I still want her there with me.
"Appalachia Danikka."
She really is quite pretty. A boyish haircut with a feminine face. Really cute. My heart flutters a little, and I am shocked. Woah, Jembi. Don't cross the line. Look, don't touch. Or think about touching.
Appalachia
My wide liquid gold eyes get even wider. Oh no. I hear two cries. That must be Mom and Menya. I hear people shouting, men. I turn around, and they are holding my Dad back. He's got this wild look in his eyes. Oh Daddy. Please don't look like that. You're going to make me cry. I don't like crying. I look at the stage, then back at my father. He is reaching towards me, he's about to break free…and I sprint towards my father. More shouts, and I can hear people running, but Paylor stops them.
"No. She's just saying goodbye. She'll have another chance on the train."
I jump into my father's arms, and he squeezed me tight, crying. I try not to. "Dad, it's okay. I'll be okay," I try to assure him, but he can't be consoled. After five seconds, rebel soldiers rip my father away from me, and two take my elbows and walk me to the stage. I shake Paylor's hand, and try to choke out the words, "Thank you." But instead, I notice a pin on his cuffs. I grip his wrist, look into his eyes, and try to convey gratitude when I am really stealing his pin. Hah!
I sit, and my chair lights up. I look around, and see my mentor is Haymitch. He trained Peeta and Katniss. I feel safe.
President Paylor says another name. A boy this time. "Alpha Qut."
Oh my gosh! I hate that kid! I met him one time when he were like, ten, and he was just a total idiot. So, I goaded him into a fistfight and we got broken up because neither of us were backing down. I've still got a scar on my hip where he pushed me into broken glass. And his nose is a little crooked, barely noticeable, because I broke it. He swears he won. But I broke his nose. Thus, I win. Loser.
Alpha
I almost laugh when Apps is called up. I'd be surprised if she lasted past the bloodbath. That girl couldn't win a fight if the guy she was fighting was blind, deaf, and limbless. I walk up into the stage cockily. I'm pretty sure I've got this in the bag. I'm stronger than all these guys, and I don't really have to worry about the girls. But if they get in my way, I'll kill them too. I skip the President, and sit, spreading out my legs and folding my arms behind my head. I notice that I haven't been chosen yet, and that ticks me off. Their loss. And if none of them want me, fine. I can win it, mentor or not.
I watch Paylor draw the girl's ball. His eyes widen, and he nearly drops it. "Rosalynn Snow."
No way! President Snow's granddaughter?
The whole crowd is screaming, especially the rebels. They are chanting.
"Death! Death! Death!"
"She must pay!"
"KILL HER!"
Rosalynn
I flinch at each shout. I walk calmly to the stage, close to the President, but he fixes me with a cold stare. "Sit." he commands.
"I take orders from no one," I spit, but sit anyway. Because I want to. I'm not going to stand for this whole forsaken "ceremony". I stare out at the seething, writhing, hateful crowd. Fine. I hate you too. "If only they knew…" I thought with a twinge of sadness.
Katniss
I have to say, I was tempted to join the scoffing. I watch the girl rise to the stands, and stifle a smile when Paylor burns her. Sometimes I do like that guy. But Peeta fixes her with a stare of confusion, then gives me a look of disapproval. I can't help but feel a little shame. Just a little. Peeta makes me feel in ways that I usually wouldn't. I huff, and look away.
Paylor draws another name. I still haven't selected my tribute yet.
"December Gold."
"No! Wait! I volunteer! I volunteer!"
Paylor doesn't hesitate. "Volunteer accepted. Come to the stage."
And before I even see her, I slam my hand down on my button.
Lily
"December Gold."
I have no time to think. "No! Wait! I volunteer! I volunteer!" I scream. December is my best friend, and there is no way that I would let her die. I love her too much.
I hear President Paylor's confirmation, and walk up to the stage. I see December crying in the arms of one of our other friends. I shake his hand.
"Lily Davis." I inform him.
"What you have done, is admirable. But it won't save you in the Arena." he says quietly.
"I know." I tell him, and walk to my chair. It is already lit. My mentor is thee Katniss Everdeen. I'm awed, and intimidated. I stare at her shyly, and take my chair. I let out a deep breath. At least this way, I won't have to watch December die on TV.
"Brad Black."
Brad
I shiver. I almost predicted this moment. I don't know why, but really, my odds were just as big or small as anyone else's. I knew it was possible. I walk up to the stage and take my seat.
"Hestia Sol."
Hestia
Tears well up in my eyes. I should be exempt. I'm not even a Capitol kid. I am District 8. I hate my life. I want to die. Maybe in the Games my wish will be granted. I'm crying, and when I walk up to the stage, President Paylor puts a hand on my shoulder and shows me my seat. The girl next to me, Lily, pats my arm.
"Venti Shoiut."
Venti.
No wails. No cries or sounds. No one knows me. No one cares. I get out the small pocketknife I have in my pocket and begin cutting my arm. I feel the guys' stares around me. One looks at me in disgust, grabs my knife, closes it, and wings it away. I am bawling and resist the urge to wipe my blood all over him. Another shoves me out. Several boys have been selected from this corral, I am starting to think it's rigged. I walk up to the stage, and Paylor commands someone offstage to grab cleaning and healing equipment. I'm angry. The tributes are all staring. I want to be like them, to do this without flinching, to fit in. I want it so badly I can feel the need consuming me. Then I pass out.
Brad
When the bleeding boy falls on me, I am startled. An involuntary sound escapes my mouth, and I shove him off. Then my seat alights, and I am chosen. I know why. The cleaning and healing kit comes, and they cart the bleeding boy, Venti, off stage. He won't last a second in the arena. If he makes it to the arena.
"Katie Blackburn."
She's young. Not as young as that angry tiny girl, but young.
Katie
I gasp, and try to shrink into myself. I walk up to the stage, terrified. I'm so sick of the Hunger Games. Haven't I been hungry enough? Beaten? Of all the rotten people in the Capitol, my name is called? I shake the President's hand and sit. I am already defeated. I stand no chance.
"Colti Wuik."
I wrinkle my nose. He's really short.
Colti
I hear a lot of people gasp when I walk up. I am probably the height of the average ten year old. They don't think I stand a chance. I probably don't. But I'm willing to give it a try.
"Shalia Black."
Shalia
My name goes through without a blink, and I sigh in relief. I knew I would be called. It was inevitable. But no one knows my secret. And no one will ever find out. Not until I win the Games, anyway. I walk up to the stage, shake the "President's" (President,. Yeah right, Everdeen and Coin did all the work.) hand and take my seat with the other female tributes.
I can tell the audience is getting bored. So they call the rest of the boys immediately, spicing it up the tiniest bit. Then they start calling the girls.
"Echo Pearl."
Echo
I roll my eyes. I hate the Reaping. Couldn't it have been a little more stylish? I mean seriously, the whole thing felt stone-age. And I didn't like the way Paylor said my name. My champagne pink skin stands out, and my sultry hips swing as I walk up to the stage. I can feel eyes on me. I'm a little nervous. I love attention, but I don't like people looking-looking at me. My split-thigh skirt is swinging up, revealing generous leg. I give the President a look and take my seat.
"Wilisca Ligman."
Willie
No. No! "NO! I DON'T WANT TO DIE!" I scream, and sprint away from the stage, trying to get away. My cries could curdle blood, and I'm almost away. But then I'm tackled. "No! No!" I'm dragged to the stage, and then I can't help it. My tension level bursts, and I am screaming hysterical laughter, collapsing on the guard that carried me up here. I am pounding my fists and flailing my arms, laughing. "I'll kill you guys," I giggle, checking the guards cheek. "I'm going to die," I tell him, tears pouring down my cheeks, Cheshire-cat smile on my lips. Laughing. Always laugh at things they can't see.