Hey ya'll!
I'm tired/Can't wait for the Games to begin/Have to wake up early tomorrow to take pictures on a beach/Have a great idea for the Games/Think that Luna is obsessed with the depression pills (okay, seriously. Aren't we all? Not like taking them, but just the fact that in the midst of a bunch of healing pills there's a depression pill. xD)
So here you guys go (I'm just going to make this short.) OH YAA, before I forget:
Athena: *cosplaying in a cute cowgirl outfit* Giddyup ya'll! YEE HAAAAWWW!
Hunter: *walks in* OH GAWSH. O.O
Athena: :d
Hunter: *scared* I wasn't supposed to see that, was I?
Athena: NAWH. No you weren't.
Hunter: Can we pretend like that never happened? *please*
Athena: *thinking* Hm… *IDEA!* If you do a little something in return.
~MUCH, MUCH LATER IN THE DAY~
Hunter: *wearing a sassy cowgirl outfit* Oh no. No you didn't. That just crossed the line.
Athena: *ROFL and basically DYING because she's laughing so hard* Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha! Oh, this is just TOO good! *turns to camera* And while I'm at it, I don't own the Hunger Games. Neither does Anna. *shoves credit to Suzanne Collins*
Hunter: WHY YOU- *Athena falls on camera and everything goes black*
~Athena~
The rooftop is like a barren wasteland—apart from the fact that there's one humongously large Capitol Hovercraft parked in the middle of it. The engines rev and I grimace as dust flies in my eyes. It stings, yes, but it's a good kind of pain.
I'm ushered forward by my pudgy-like-a-pig stylist, Aikeeta. She's grunting—another similarity to a muddy, icky pig—and complaining about how I should move before the Peacekeepers make me. I reluctantly agree, which sets Aikeeta over the line. The stylist wraps her hands in a death grip around my arm, pulls me with more force than I've ever experienced, and holds me in front of a nurse. "Looking for this?" She half-chuckle half-coughs, but with a twinge of relief. Happy to have me out of her 'hooves', that's for sure.
The blonde nurse, of about 20 or so, merely nods and sticks a needle in my arm. Even though I look away, the seering-hot pain surges through me every second it's there. I can tell, she's keeping it in as long as possible, and either A: That needle is longer than I expected –OR- B: She's aiming to poke a hole clear through my arm (Just a thought, just a thought). She doesn't escape without a punch to the nose, which Aikeeta scolds me for.
"I swear, that woman was trying to skewer my arm!" I bitterly argue. "Just think about it. Exactly HOW LONG was that needle?"
Aikeeta just glares at me for a second, stares off into space, and nods. "You know, it was pretty long. But you're getting prepared for the Hunger Games. Any skewering will have to wait 'till the arena, no buts." My face distorts into one of horror, and once again I'm freely pushed (this time to the ladder).
Not thinking, I grip on. BSHTSHTSHTSHT. A sizzle freezes my every move as I'm lifted up into the hovercraft. As much as I'd like to jump and hope I break an arm, I admit my defeat to the Capitol technology. DARN YOU CAPITOL TECHNOLOGY. DARN… YOU… Remind me that when I win the Hunger Games I will request a hammer. So I can smash every piece of Capitol technology that I see. Yes, I'm being serious.
The ladder escalates up, and I finally reach the top. Two Avoxes greet me, one attempting to help me off of the rope, the other handing me my change of clothes and pointing in the direction of my holding room. I completely ignore them both, except for the fact that I had snatched my clothes up and rasped, "Don't touch my stuff."
When I reached my room, I noticed that the pile of clothes I had been give was ENOURMOUS. No, really. This was at least 1 ½ feet tall! Out of habit, I spread the attire out on the bed in order to get a closer look. Hm. 1 Shirt with zipper adjustable sleeves (long, but when zipped, short), 1 pair of pants with zipper adjustable lengths (long, but when zipped, short), a silky-texture bikini top and bottom, a thin mountain jacket, a pair of hiking shoes with built in spikes (at the bottom), and small black glasses (It doesn't look like it could be night vision goggles… No, these have a small hole here. It's as if I need to plug something in…). "Getting dressed is going to be a challenge of its own," I sarcastically mutter to myself.
I was correct, it was a challenge. Twice, I got stuck while putting on the pants and once while putting on the jacket. When I was done, I finally breathed a sigh of approval. And, surprisingly, I didn't look so bad. No, the outfit fitted my style. The waist-length brown and blue curls fell in parted strands on the right side of my head (CABEZA!). For once, I think I might have smiled. Maybe a bit. But that's our little secret. You hear?
My thoughts were interrupted by a soft knocking on the sliding door. "Come in!" I howl.
Not surprisingly, in walked Aikeeta, fat as ever. "Athena, honey, we're landing at the Launch Room." She softly engulfed me in a sweet hug. Another miracle happened—I didn't feel the urge to punch her. Though, I did prefer the silence of solitude. Ah, solitude sweet solitude. "Are you okay?" Worry swept into her voice, as if shoving away all thoughts of gumdrops and sugar plums.
"I'm fine." I pushed her away and got up off of the bed, wiping my shoulders. "Yeah, I'm fine."
And, of course, that's when the waterworks started. "Oh, baby g-g-g-girl, I'm going to miss you s-s-s-so much! I can't b-b-b-believe that you have to go t-t-t-to the H-h-h-hunger Games and that you're going to l-l-leave me! Why now? W-w-w-why he—" I turned to look at the kind soul.
"Miss me? So you don't think I'm going to win?" An eyebrow rose, and two arms crossed as a stern face glared at Aikeeta. Aikeeta, still swept up in sorrow, daintily wiped her cotton-candy swirled eyes.
"I-I-I never said that you a-a-aren't going to win. T-t-trust me, I'll be in the D-d-d-district 12 Center ready to s-s-s-sponsor you if you need anything. So if there's a-a-anything that you need, feel f-f-f-free to say it aloud and we'll try to g-g-g-get it for you." The sniffles just burst out in a fit of sobs, but I just lightly brushed it off. I gripped her shoulders, as she had earlier done to me, and looked her in the eyes.
"Get a hold of yourself. I'll be fine. Just go and help me win. Okay?" I made my directions simple and easy to follow. Hopefully she wouldn't overly exaggerate what I meant, but she still (probably) got the idea. That's what matters. Aikeeta nodded and smiled.
All she whispered to me in reply was, "Good luck."
"Thanks Aikeeta." And with that, I left the room. More death wails erupted, each louder than the last. What did have me wondering was why she wasn't coming with me to the Launch Room. I'd have to sleep on that—if I make it past the first day, of course (which I plan to do).
~Hunter Drew~
"Drew…" I barely turn around when my mentor enters my holding room on the hovercraft. There's a pained edge to her voice. "Drew, promise me you'll try."
My hands curl up into tight fists and I grimace. "Never said I wouldn't." My hand slips across a photograph of me and my best friend, Lyrhi. Thankfully, I managed to snag it onboard and past the stupid Peacekeepers before I left.
"That's my boy!" She pridefully cheered, slapping me on the back. I wince and spin around, this time the full 180 degrees to face her nose-to-nose.
"Hey Jane, I've been thinking…" I start, taking a pose. "Do you happen to know what's brown and sticky? And I mean /REALLY/ sticky!" As I strike a different pose, Jane turns on her heels and walks five steps. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat. (And repeat another time, just for good measure.)
"Well," Jane stops with a puzzled emotion sewed to her face. Her chubby little fingers (or what my mom used to call "piggies") slid through the greasy black tumble of long hair. "What about brownies with chocolate frosting? Is it a large chunk of caramel? Or is it possibly a frappe? No, no. Cross out the latter. What about kalamari? Oooh! Double chocolate chip cookies with a gooey dark chocolate center?"
"None—of—those." My words slur together in an overly-confident tone. I proudly stick out my chest, sort of like a small bird. "It's a stick." I imitate a drummer banging on cymbals after a joke or pun. Yes, you might have guessed one of my many specialties: I have a knack for lame jokes. No need to applaud me, REALLY.
The answer is followed by silence for fifteen seconds. I look at Jane. She looks at me. There's no way I can read her expression. Nada. Then she bursts out laughing which morphs in stifled wails. "W-win! If ya n-need anything, tell m-me!" With one last bear hug, she leaves the room and I'm stuck in solitude. I don't understand why this couldn't wait 'till the Launch Room. Isn't that when the mentors are supposed to say their goodbyes? Huh. And what's with the crying? Doesn't this happen every year? Pssh. Some people just need to toughen up. Tenderize some meat. Churn some fat cells.
Once again, I'm not alone. Two female Peacekeepers (seriously) kick open the door to the room, each with a smug expression on their overly-perfect little doll faces. I think they're twins, but the only difference is their height—which is something MAJORLY strange.
"Hey runt," the tallest of the two sneers. Immediately I spot the similarities between the cocky duo and a Barbie doll—shiny flowing hair blonde hair, perfect faces (free of any surgery, from what I can see), silky white skin, and morning-pink blushing cheeks. The only thing that sticks out like a sore thumb is their horrible attitude.
"Time to haul you to the 'Games," the small, sweeter looking one finishes. But she's not sweeter by a landslide, that's for sure. It's just her height. Honest. I only raise an eyebrow and stare her in her baby blue eyes.
"Oh, really?" I hear myself question, and doubt whether I actually said it to a real live Peacekeeper. Who could possibly hurt me. "What if I don't come with you, hmmm? What if I were to jump out the window?" At first, this was just a minor joke. Just the usual Hunter stuff. But then I realized: Actually, it wasn't a bad idea. So when the girls weren't sharply focused, I made a mad dash for the window. My fingers pried along the edges, scraping to open it up.
"Let go, kid!" A hiss erupts from behind me, followed by a sharp pain that stuttered through my upper back. "We're not that dumb. These windows are sealed tight shut. No way your hands'll break 'em open." I don't let go, and bear the consequences of the taser bolting against my back. It's enough to make me grimace, but not stop. I can feel the energy draining from my system, but I still (try to) cling on for dear life.
Eventually, they manage to drag me by the legs, despite my attempts to kick their hands. Out of my room, through the hallway, to the transfer deck, and to the main hall of the Launching Center.
Normally, I'm not this rowdy. Though, I think this might be an exception (with me being dragged to my death and all. It's either try to escape or fight for your life where 23 die and 1 lives). My mouth is clapped shut and I gratefully let the shyness overcome me. My true self, my true shy feeling. I let myself go numb with fear and realization.
I snap out of my thoughts as I'm literally FLUNG into a room. A shudder passes through me as I hit the shimmery blue wall and fall to the rough, concrete floor. "Ugh…" I moan, trying to pick myself up off the cold floor.
"Hunter!" A small voice wails from across the room. Strange enough, I've heard that voice before. But from where? And why is it here? Why now? I wipe away a thin line of drool (due to the impact with the wall and floor) and turn my head. No. No, it can't be. I'm relieved. I'm worried. I'm confused. The girl I see is my only true friend. My spark. It's Lyhri. Lyhri Motgowery.
Lyhri's dressed up in a fancy pink Victorian dress, complete with lacey white bows and cuffed sleeves. The dress sweeps along the floor, like a mop on a grimy surface, as she paces over to me. Click clack, click clack! Her glass heels make an echoing pitter patter. "Hunter! Hunter, please tell me this is a nightmare. Please Hunter. Please." I can only accept her sorrows as she leans on my shoulder, sobbing worries and babbling about life.
"Shhh, shhh, shhh. Lyhri, how are you here? Or, let me make it clearer. WHY are you here?" In response, I'm only answered by death cries and the drip drop of tears splashing on the solid floor. She keeps muttering about how I have to come home and that it's not safe there without me. That she needs my protection back in poor old District 12. "Lyhri," I try again. "Why are you here?"
Finally, my best friend manages to (semi-)pull herself together. Managing only a trickle or two of tears, she confidently spoke. "I-I have a message. Or, s-so I've come to deliver to say." A message? God, these Gamemakers are messing with my head. Darn you, Maple. Darn you.
"Yes, go on." My hand slides across her face, removing all traces of the once-was-here tears. I grip her shoulders tightly and whisper in her ear. "What?"
"It's a maze, Hunter. It's a maze." A maze?
"Well, yes. That was hinted during the Chariot Rides. Don't you remember? 'Prez said something about Maple liking Mazes. Excuse me, but I think that's a bit obvious."
"Yes, yes I do. B-but that's not the point. T-there's a maze, and I'm bait. I've just escaped from my holding box," Lyhri whimpers the last sentence and a fearful expression passes on my face. Oh dear Panem, no. No, no, no. This isn't true. "It's true," She confirms. "After this I-I'll be set up in the arena. E-every person has someone used as b-bait."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes. Well, except for those p-poor, homeless orphans who have never interacted w-w-with other people before."
"Lyhri, I promise, nothing will happen to you. Do you hear? I promise, nothing will ever happen to you as long as I am—" I can't even finish my vow when a herd of Peacekeepers snap open the door and it cracks the wall behind it. Lyhri crouches to the ground, as if trying to shield away from the scary Capitol fiends.
"Hide me," She winces, covering her petite head with her hands.
"Yes, Maple. We've got an escapee. Mhm. Negative, ma'am. Yes. Yes. Affirmative. Copy that. Over," A male with jet black hair mumbles through his walkie-talkie. Uh oh. He's spotted Lyhri. With a snap of his fingers, some of the more muscular females and males of the group tie her arms and legs. I'm hopeless, there's really nothing I can do. Either that or my fear got the best of me. Sadly, I think this situation was caused by the latter.
"NO!" The District 12 teen screeched, clawing at the floor. Strangely, it was nearly a mimic of what had happened to me earlier with the Barbie-doll duo… Except for the fact that my best friend was going to be used as bait in the 100th Hunger Games. "HUNTER, PLEASE!"
As she was hauled out of the Launch Room, a single Peacekeeper stayed behind. Once again, a female. What is it with me and females? But she had a kind tone of voice and a loving expression, like a baby fawn in a meadow of springtime flowers covered in dew. "Darling, please be a good boy and stand in that tube over there for me, will ya?" I wasn't in the mood to argue (well, I normally don't argue at all), so I obeyed the sweet girl. "Thank you, and may the odds be ever in your favors!" As the tube shot up straight, like lemonade through a straw, the last thing I saw was her kindle-warm face and a relieving wave.
First darkness overcomes me, then pure brightness. After what seemed like a minute, I reached the top. The platform clicked into place and my vision adjusted, little by little. From the first thing I saw, I knew that Lyhri was wrong. This was not at ALL a maze. Or was it? I knew that this moment was going to be televised. If only I could see the expression on my face…
Is it a maze? Was Lyhri truly wrong, or is there a maze hidden somewhere deep within? What about the prisoners (or bait, I guess you could say)? What will happen next? Will one of the mutts be Derpy Hooves? All this and more in…
MY LITTLE PONY: FRIENDSHIP IS MAGIC!
Nawh, JK. It's actually Maple's Maze. So review (it'll make my day!), favorite, and PM me (Oh, I love conversations). ;) CIAO PEEPS~