Victor #37:
Name: Weaven Loomis
District: 08
Age During Games: 16
Games: 037
Death: Third Quarter Quell
"Bring her out," a stern voice commanded. District 8, such a rambunctious District, but their actions after proposal night resulted in a severe crackdown. The woman in the splintering bunk, barely five foot six at 53, had three children over her life, and mentored one victor through her mentoring career, just like her mentor. She knew loss, and the man could tell that these losses plagued her. "Take Weaven to the first interrogation room. Keep guns at ready."
The men who held her in her hands nodded and went down the hallway. Their commanding officer pulled out a file from his coat pocket and fixed the rose he kept in his coat pocket. He held a small light up to the papers in the claustrophobic hallways of the out-District prison. A picture of a girl, 16 years old with light blond hair and prominent hazel eyes stared out to him with a firm grimace. Underneath her name, Weaven Loomis, depicted her training score, various odds on arrival, and general approval rating.
This poll was taken last year, where surveyors asked if they enjoyed a victor or not. This was before the berries, before the stupid star crossed lovers, before the rebellions in Districts 3,4,8, and 11. As was expected, Finnick Odair had a 98% approval rating, the highest for all 73 victors. Weaven herself sat at 45%, below average, but not the worst (that was Levora from District 6 and Jumper from District 5).
"Very well. Wake her up," Snow commanded into his radio. The voice on the other end replied in approval, and Snow could hear thuds in the background, the sound of hard rubber hitting flesh, and the girl screamed. She was calmed down, and directed to eat. Snow opened the door to the first interrogation room slowly. She was prodding a roll of bread, aimlessly moving her finger around the rim of an open orange juice goblet.
"I don't know anything," she said defensively.
Snow raised a thin white eyebrow. "Really? I promised you that I wouldn't lie. The very least that you can do is the same for me, not unless we need more encouragement."
The woman shut up, this would be significantly more easy. "You know Weaven, just before I obtained the presidency, you won the Hunger Games, and for the victory tour you were the first victor I met. This is true, no?" he asked.
"With your memory, I won't deny it. And it is true," she boldly replied. This prompted a grin, a snake's grin from president Snow, and he ordered an identical meal from his guards. She mirrored his motions as he grabbed a drink, ever so slyly, and sipped hers warily.
"Nervous, my dear?" he taunted.
"It is just a simple dinner, and I intend to tell you nothing but the truth," she replied confidently.
"And you have had that same mentality ever since you won the games. You always were one of my favorites, you and Leopold both my most favorite. Sadly, with Leopold passing last year, I only have you to talk about in my home at the capitol. My daughter was a big fan of District 8 before her passing all too soon. Tell me, do you happen to know anything else about District 8's rebellion precisely 3 months, 2 weeks, 4 days, 5 hours, and 2 seconds ago?"
"All I happen to know is that the main target for the supposed rebellion was the media outlet. I wouldn't blame them, that outlet wires much more electricity than it needs. I ask you Snow, are these outlets visible in every District, where they happen to take as much electricity?"
"You know a lot of this, are you sure you weren't involved?"
"Word got out around the District quickly, and I'm sure that not all of us were involved."
"You are aware that we have made five dozen arrests in that time, each attributed to as many peacekeeper deaths, and we have been on lockdown for District 8 for 7 days after the rebellion. Butter for your roll?" She hesitates at the question and softly shakes her head no. "It seems like we really aren't getting new information from you, I guess you were telling the truth. I believe breakfast here is done. Guards, send her back to her cell, and please notify her family about her apparent passing. It was a shame too, I would have loved to see my favorite victor go through her toughest trial."
"Mister President, before they go, am I permitted to ask two more questions?" Weaven pleads hastily as the guards grab her by the limbs and she falls slack to the floor.
"What do you mean by toughest trial? And I'm still alive: Why are you reporting me as dead?"
President Snow looks over the middle aged woman with a look of thick judgement in his eyes. He shoves a slip of paper into the guard on her left side's hands. "Give it to her when she's in her cell. The poison in her orange juice will act in 5 days, no more, no less, we've calculated it, and I took the antidote just before we ate. I'll Miss you, Miss Loomis, you always were one of my favorites."
The guards drag her to her cell with relative ease. All the fight after six days of imprisonment has gone out of her. She did tell them all that she knew, at the bare minimum,and her family would pay the price. "She's a lost cause," one of the guards tells her teammate.
"No more check ups on her, we got what we needed," her teammate replies. "She has a grandchild on the way, hasn't she?"
"Unfortunate. Hopefully justice will be swift," another voice chimes in.
The three of them walk down the hallway through the District prison. Weaven's the only occupant of this room, more than likely she'll be the last. Fifty conspirators were here, and she knows that Cecelia got word out, but Weaven was more open of a participant. Feebly, she crawls to the envelope and weakly opens it. It reeks of rose perfume and orange juice. She is nauseated, and the words swirl around on the card in an elegant script, but ever so slowly, no doubt hindered by the poison in her, she reads it aloud.
"To remind us all how the...Hunger Games was the result of the sins...of our ancestors, all tributes...reaped must have a relation to a victor, be it cousin, mother, father, or child," she struggles out. The tears fall onto the paper as she realizes the true connotation of this quell. Her daughter, her only child left, Harriet, pregnant at 5 months along, no longer with luxury as soon as she dies, her only family left.
Her husband left her after she failed to bring home Cabot in the Second Quell and five years later, Hanson. Cabot was the elder of two twins, born almost immediately before Zephyr's victory, and fell at 13 years old to the District 2 beast that year. She gets a headache, even more of one when she remembers Hanson, Cabot's identical twin brother, deceased five years later in the 55th to poisonous gases. She knows she isn't the only victor to lose a child to the games, but she could very lose all three, including her grandchild.
She screams as she realizes, a harrowing one, and just for once, she wants someone to tell her to shut up. It only gets louder as the days goes on, when she remembers she isn't the only victor at stake. Woof has a wife, her nephews and nieces and siblings would be up. Her name is Marta...five years younger than Woof, he's 70 or so now.
There are days where she sleeps, only sleeps, and no one is there. Spindelly Dicer appears to her, her mentor for the hunger Games, they'd alternate until Cecelia won, and until Delly died. Women don't live long in the factory District, and she was gone at 61, no children, no significant other, or anything of note. She was a community home kid, no one left.
She thinks she's been in there about 3 weeks or so, no food, no water. She hasn't felt this way since before 16, tesserae was an occasional treat if even that, and even then she had to work for it. Her only communication is a television that wheels in once every 3 days or so, and she sees the mandatory viewing going on. The pain from District 8's victor's village surely travels to her, a dozen or so simultaneous cries.
Cecelia, she needs to look out for her, her only victor in her career, and the latest girl in a while, winning in the late 50's. She has three siblings and three children, and both of her parents are still alive. Audley, her oldest at 11, is barely eligible, as is her middle child, 10-year old Matthis. The only one that could be spared besides Cecelia is the little five year old scamp,aptly named Scamp.
At times, she laughs. Some memories that flash through her mind that were only accumulated after years of motherhood. She remembers taking Harriet, barely 5 or 8 years old at the time, to Hunger games...damn, what was it? Hunger games 56, Cecelia's year, yeah. Her face lit up as she worked with Mommy at the sponsor hotspots, like the High Broadway shopping street, and the little lake boat rides, and they brought home Sister Cecelia. Her laughs are choked, but they're genuine, and her only source of joy in the prison.
Then Shaun, their most recent, having won with only a 3, he fought hard to get out, and he's a mess. Two siblings who don't talk to him at all, two kids from both of them, two girls, two boys, a girlfriend who's barely even there., and a big messed up life. Granted, all the victors have a big messed up life, and Shaun's been one of the most popular victors, if only for his rugged voice alone.
The last person she thinks about is her mother, now 15 years dead, and she can feel her warm touch as she rubs her hand on her forehead. She can't talk anymore, it's been what, three and a half weeks? Her mom hugs her for the last time, a gift that she desparately wants to give Harriet the last days of her life. The peacekeepers pull her body out on a routine trip, when the season is still cold and the look of grief is frozen on her face. Her head's oddly warm. They contact her next of kin, Harriet Loomis, now 6 months along, she'll be 8 when the reaping occurs, and explain to her that they found the body.
The grave is watered with tears as the casket lowers slowly into the hole. Harriet can't train like the other kids around Victor's village, and she knows she's screwed when the reaping comes along.
Her name is called, an 11 year old girl won't let her go.
Hey guys, Hopps here
Once again, we have another time skip. Another look at the reactions to the AU third Quarter Quell, and we have our first confirmed tribute. And I've spoiled how many Victors District 8 gets, but ah well.
And Bikaran, here we are, District 8's second girl, teenage mother and distraught grandmother. So, tell me, what do you think of her? How's the setting? General thoughts.
Also, something of sad news. My school is starting up soon, and it has a hectic magnet high schedule, so some of the chapters may not be out as frequently as they did this summer.
But let me know what you think, as always, and thanks for reading
Hopping out
Hopps