Molly McNamara, 16
District 4 Female.
Molly opened the door to the bakery, shouting into it at her parents.
"Mom, Dad, I'm going for a run. I'll be back soon!"
"Okay, see you soon darling!" Molly grinned at her mother, stepping back out the door into the cool morning of Four, bouncing back on the balls of her feet. She took a deep breath of salty air and set off running down the street, passing familiar shops as she ran, feet slapping against the sidewalk. She reached the end of the street, turning left, heading towards the beach. She skid to a stop on the sand, looking around.
"Darya, you here yet?" Molly called out.
"Here!" Darya ran up behind her, hugging her from behind. Both giggled, as Darya let go of Molly.
"Ready to go?" Molly asked, reaching out her fist to Darya who bumped it with her own.
"Let's go!" The two set off together, returning back to the sidewalk which was much more agreeable to run on then the sand.
"Have you been painting much recently Molly?" Molly liked to paint and often gifted her paintings to Darya.
"Yeah, I've been working on a big painting recently."
"Is it for me?"
"No, but it's of you." Darya looked slightly surprised, Molly usually didn't paint her friends, but she decided to paint Darya hopefully to get some of her thoughts about her out. Molly couldn't help but admire her, short blonde hair tied back and acne scars. Darya swore by the fact she wasn't pretty, but Molly thought otherwise. She was also in awe of how smart she was, pulling top marks in every class she was in.
"Molly, you good? You've been staring at me." Molly shook herself out of her thoughts.
"Yeah, yeah I'm good, just thinking."
"About what?"
"Just stuff, it's nothing important." Darya smiled, and Molly looked away quickly, trying to hide the blush she knew was spreading across her face. The pair came to a stop back in front of Molly's family bakery, and Molly opened the door, gesturing for Darya to go in. The pair stepped into the warm bakery, the scent of fresh bread washing over them.
"Good morning Darya!" Molly's mother popped her head out from the back kitchen, waiving. Darya grinned, waving back.
"Morning Mrs. McNamara!"
"I'd love to stay and chat with you girls, but I have bread in the oven." Her mother disappeared back into the kitchen.
"Okay c'mon let's go upstairs." Molly gestured to the staircase at the back of the shop, and they made their way up the stairs, they creaked familiarly under their weight. They reached the top, emerging into the living room of the McNamara's. They walked to the back hallway and climbed another set of stairs to Molly's room. She had the loft, the attic of their house. It was messy, clothing and art supplies scattered haphazardly across the floor and on every surface there was. On the easel, near one of the large windows was a large painting, it was obviously in the likeness of Darya.
"Wow, it's a mess in here." Darya said, tossing herself into a nearby bean bag chair.
"Yeah I know, it's fine though. Do you like the painting?" She asked, gesturing to the easel.
"I love it, Molly it's far prettier than I actually am." Molly didn't agree, but she smiled anyway.
"Dar, you're far prettier than you think you are."
Cressian "Cress" Vanderhall, 13.
District 4 Male.
Cress slipped the shirt on, buttoning up the front. He could hear his parents and brother moving around downstairs.
"Cress c'mon! We're gonna be late!" His mother called from downstairs.
"I'm just buttoning up my shirt, give me a minute!"
"We don't have a minute Cress! Hurry!" He finished buttoning his shirt, and he pulled on his socks and shoes, running out of his room and down the stairs. He quickly came to a stop at the bottom of the stairs, where his mom, dad and brother were standing, waiting for him. He knew this was an important day for his brother, Favlo because they were about to go find out if he was chosen to be the volunteer for this year's Games. Cress was proud of his brother but didn't exactly enjoy all the attention it got him. Cress was used to having the spotlight on him, as the cute baby brother but in recent weeks with Favlo's chances of being chosen going up, the attention shifted off Cress.
"How do I look, Mom?" He did a little spin, showing off his outfit.
"Good, you look good, now let's go!" She replied. The entire family filed out the door, Favlo ruffling Cress' hair.
"Lookin handsome kid, I'm surprised you could tame this mop." Cress shoved his hand of playfully, giggling.
"Get your hands off my hair, do you know how much time I spent on it? Besides I'm not the one who should be looking handsome, it's gonna be your ugly mug up at the front today." Favlo smacked him gently across the head.
"Boys, cut it out" Their mother called back to them. They continued walking towards the training academy.
Cress flopped onto his bed, not bothering to take his shoes off. He was exhausted after a long night of socializing and celebrating his brother's accomplishment of being chosen as the selected volunteer for the Games this year. The spotlight had been on Favlo all night, Favlo this, Favlo that and Cress was sick of it. Why couldn't he be the one in the limelight? He loved his brother more than anything, but he didn't know what to do. He sat up, sliding to the edge of his bed, as he pulled off his shoes and threw them across the room, vaguely towards the area where the closet was. He stood, pulling his formal clothes off, and grabbing some comfier pyjamas out, putting them on. He climbed into bed, pulling the blanket over him. He closed his eyes, drifting off to sleep.
Cress was suddenly on a stage, a stage in the main square of four. He looked down at himself, and he appeared to be older, taller and broader than he was as a teenager. The Capitol anthem was playing, and as it finished he sat, as the escort for Four stepped out from behind the curtain. The escort grabbed the mic, saying something unintelligible, and then he gestured at him.
"Please welcome your most recent victor, Cressian Vanderhall!" The crowd went wild, and Cress woke with a start. He knew what he had to do.
Lexington Parker, 24.
Victor of the 196th Hunger Games.
Lexington stepped up to the stage, inhaling deeply. He could see the sea from where he stood on the stage. He longed to be out there, on the water on his boat with his crew, but alas, he had responsibilities as a victor. He waived awkwardly at the crowd as he moved to his spot, he was never sure what to do with his hands. He fidgeted with his hands as the anthem played, and as it came to a close he sat quickly, watching as the Capitol escort, Azrah Bailey, stepped out from behind the curtain. He stepped up to the podium leaning over it to the mic.
"Hello, District Four! How are you doing this fine morning?" The crowd went wild, clapping and cheering loudly. Lexington was prepared for this, having braced himself for it after he was deafened the first year he was up on the stage.
"Okay well then Four, shall we hop to it? Starting with the ladies today how about it?" The crowd cheered again, as Azrah pulled a slip of paper out of one of the large glass bowls. He unfolded it, reading it out into the mic.
"Darya Murray!"
"No!" The shout of no came from a shorter girl who pushed herself out of the crowd. She looked around panicking and froze in place. One of the Peacekeepers gestured for her to go to the stage, and she shook her head no. The Peacekeeper grabbed her by the arm and hauled her up to the stage, the girl going limp beneath his grasp. He deposited her at the top of the stairs and she made her way shakily to Azrah.
"And what's your name young lady?" Azrah asked, holding out the mic.
"Molly McNamara." The girl said, her voice quivering. Azrah nodded and she took her place behind him, keeping her eyes glued to the ground.
"And the boys now!" Azrah picked another piece of paper out of the bowl, unfolding it.
"Daniel Green!"
"I VOLUNTEER!" A very loud shout rang out, as a shorter, bright red-haired boy ran out of the crowd. The crowd gasped, as the boy made his way to the stage and he reached the top of the stairs quickly.
"And your name young sir?" Azrah asked.
"Cress Vanderhall!" He replied, practically shouting into the mic. There were murmurs from the crowd, as the boy took his place. Obviously, neither were the chosen volunteer for this year. Both had just doomed themselves. Lexington sighed, he knew he wasn't bringing home a victor this year.
And that wraps up intros! Wow, that flew by quick huh. Opinions? Who stands out to you, who do you like the most? Any victor predictions? Drop a review with your responses (I need that sweet sweet review dopamine.) Anyways, here's the first check-in question (This is just to make sure y'all are reading along even if you aren't reviewing): What is your tributes favourite colour and why? You can dm me responses here, or on discord. Anyways next chapter will be a quick tribute recap, and then goodbyes and train rides with Sarmiento, Armitage and Janna. See y'all there! Signing off, Times.