A/N: mini mention of sexual assault.
Metamorphosis: The 100th Hunger Games
Interlude - Honoring Our Victors: Memorable HG Moments Post-Second Rebellion!
"Never would I ever have thought that we as a nation would experience such hardships (The First Rebellion) like that ever again. Things cannot simply 'return back to normal'. The Capitol and its loyal denizens nationwide cry out in anguish over their losses and you (The rebels) must atone for said tears."
- President Egeria Choudhury
#1: The 76th Hunger Games Bloodbath
So if Silvia Starr had a rampage, what should we call Zenobia Rivendell's foray into the arena? Zenobia's maelstrom?
As we all know, HG 76 through to HG 79 were supplemented by four times the amount of tributes, bringing the total amount of contestants to one hundred and twenty. Sure, the succeeding four Games that came after 76 had many, many chaotic moments, but HG 76 served as the basis of it all with Zenobia Rivendell of District 2 serving as the driver of said chaos.
Tragically losing her family during the War, Zenobia notably snaked through the 'no volunteers' clause and found herself in a vipers den filled to the brim with ne'er-do-wells.
Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned, so they say. In this case, hell hath no fury like a woman galled and with nothing to lose! Zenobia Rivendell proved this time and time again, most specifically during her cornucopia bloodbath.
Or as Caesar Flickerman gleefully called it: the cornucopia massacre.
The Seventy-Sixth Hunger Games
Victor: Zenobia Rivendell
Age at Victory: 17
Predicted Placement: 20th (Out of 120)
Arena: Central Park, New York City
Kills: 40
Games Duration:26 Days
"So...Zenobia," Caesar began. "You had the Capitol in quite a tizzy regarding your reaping scene. Volunteers were not allowed this year but you most certainly bucked that rule! Note to any aspiring volunteers out there, the next time there's any no volunteering rule, just run up to the stage and yell "REAP ME!" to your escort until they relent!"
The crowd bursted with laughter, but Zenobia Rivendell was having none of it. A rapid glance to her escort prompted her to smile pleasantly at Caesar.
"Are you a rebel, Zenobia?"
"Yes Ceasar, I am a rebel." She answered, her voice filled with faux cheer. "I rebel against the notion that anyone else, but me, walks out of that arena alive."
The crowd gasped and then quickly erupted with roars of approval. Even Flickerman himself was shocked, his eyes as wide as saucers.
"Woah...What a declaration that was!" Caesar exclaimed over the cheers. "I'm not complaining, but there has to be a specific reason you decided to force your way into these Games?"
She tried with all her might not to burst into tears and grab a handful of mints from her pocket. She blocked out the hurt and anguish and instead focused on the declaration she made to them before they moved on to do what they did.
She gives the cameras the steeliest glare she could muster. After what she's been through, it wasn't difficult.
"Three men." She answered simply.
That's a surprise. A welcome surprise, but a surprise nonetheless.
When the Peacekeeper opened the door to the launch room, Zenobia wasn't expecting her escort – Viondra – to be standing there. Her classy, stunning appearance stood out in stark contrast with the sick green concrete walls and steel table in the center of the room. Viondra leaned against the table, her dark blue eyes illuminated by the cigarette affixed onto a slender tube fit between her manicured fingers as she took a casual drag and exhaled. Her eyes affixed on her, Viondra's full, ruby red lips broke out into a smile.
She grunted, slightly amused. Viondra DeWynter wasn't like any escort she'd seen before, that was for sure. Throughout her journey through the Capitol, she found herself astonished with each perk Viondra showcased. Then again, if you're the daughter of the vice president of Panem, those perks were bound to be endless.
"There she is...The mutt's roar..." Viondra breathed, as she extinguished the cigarette and moved forward to envelop her into a hug. She tersely embraced the slightly older woman while she took in her vanilla scent. She owed her that much. If Viondra wasn't escort, she would be perceived as just another reb, which had its own downsides.
"You weren't at the Training Center, so I thought that was that." She said after they had split apart. Viondra held her by the shoulders and caressed them.
"Why would I give up a chance at guiding my charge into history?" Viondra purred with a smirk.
"Isn't the stylist supposed to do this?" she asked with a smirk of her own. The same could be said for mentorship duties, which in her case Viondra seemed to have taken up in place of Captain Fazen – the Capitol appointed mentor for Two. What's one tribute out of ten being taken from him?
"I'm a woman of many talents." Viondra shrugged. "Not that it takes much talent to dress a tribute up and give them a kind word before seeing them off."
She nodded. "True."
"And you can't forget about that vice presidential privilege." Viondra added playfully.
She smiled. "Also true."
Viondra turned around and made her way to the opposite end of the table as her hips rocked back and forth. She then pointed to the plate of food situated on a table further to the right, beside a locker.
"You have an hour until launch." Viondra said. "And slow your horses will you? You're no good to me or yourself if you get a tummy ache."
She nodded obediently as she moved to the table, collected her food and sat down before Viondra and ate. In silence, she savored every single morsel of food as if it were her last. With the strength of Mom, Dad and Paulus, behind her, it wouldn't be. Viondra from the opposite side, watched her with hint of curiosity, just like their first train ride to the Capitol. When she finished her meal, Viondra laid out a garment bag and told her to change. It was a typical area uniform for temperate climates, a pair of khaki, multi-pocketed pants with a black t-shirt and blood red jacket that designated her as a District 2 tribute. This brought them all the way to the one minute callout until launch.
"Every loyal citizen in Panem is over the moon for you." Viondra said finally.
She nodded. "I know."
Viondra gestured mindlessly with her hand. "Most, if not all of those tributes would love to see nothing less than you with two wings and a halo."
She nodded again. "I figured."
"But you won't give them the satisfaction?"
"Not if I can help it, no."
Viondra smirked. "Good, because your story is far too legendary to have it snuffed out in that arena. Do it for the Capitol, do it for me, do it for all those whose livelihoods have been forever changed. Do it for you."
"I will." She affirmed. Matix...Shadd...Dixen, she promised they'd pay. And they will pay.
Viondra nodded, as she glanced up when the PA announced that thirty seconds remained. Viondra's heels clicked against the floor as she retrieved a present from a Peacekeeper standing idly by and pressed it into her arms.
"Open it." Viondra hissed gently. "Consider it a gift from myself and other benefactors who would very much like to see your success in these Games."
She obliged, as she ripped open the packaging and was astonished to see two golden, triple-bladed daggers that shined back at her. They weren't really daggers, as the hilts were prolonged and unlike anything she had seen before. Oh my gods, the hilts...They were ornate, just like the blade with floral designing.
"They're gauntlets – katars, I believe. They originate from the Orient, like a katana or a monk's spade." Viondra explained as she affixed them onto her arms. She was surprised to see that they fit right under her jacket cuffs as she retracted and protracted them into short blades and split them into claws at ease. She smirked as Viondra did as well. "As I said, I wouldn't put it behind those ruffians to choke you out as soon as the gong sounds so why not have an extra layer of assurance?"
She was over the moon right now. She didn't know to do anything else except snap to attention.
"Thank you ma'am." She said. Viondra was a lieutenant after all.
Viondra was about to gently chide her when she sighed. "You're very welcome, Officer Cadet Rivendell."
"Ten seconds until launch."
"Okay kid, its time. Don't let your anger be a guide, but a motivator." Viondra said, as she rushed her into the pod. Viondra then tapped the seal of Panem on her jacket lapel. "We've been hurt Zenobia – you have been hurt. Be our instrument of judgement."
"I will." She nodded as the pod closed around her.
She felt as if all her doubts were suddenly wiped away, for she genuinely had loyal, Capitol-fearing citizens rooting for her.
She exchanged one last nod with Viondra as the pod begun to rise.
Zenobia with a hundred and nineteen other children arose in an expansive circle in what appeared to be a city park, as on all sides stood dilapidated skyscrapers in various states of decay. She didn't have to shield her eyes, thanks to the soot-like overcast in the sky. Despite the overcast, it was fair outside with a gentle breeze that blew in.
At least she wasn't in a tundra.
Zenobia thought the venue was extremely fitting, given that Panem had just wrapped up a second civil war. Even though this ruin wasn't a result of Panem's doing, it brought home the message all the same.
Good. There'll be plenty of nooks and crannies to lay my head down in.
"Sixty...Fifty-Nine...Fifty-Eight...Fifty-Seven...Fifty-Six..."
Zenobia then focused her vision to her immediate surroundings. She was smack dab in the middle of the circle where she faced the mouth of the cornucopia with a sizeable lake just a couple of feet away. The horn of plenty overflows with loot this year, but getting what you want and making it out alive was a whole other mutt you had to deal with. She then caressed her wrists where her gauntlets rested. She didn't necessarily have to worry about weapons or food at the moment.
After this, I would've earned my keep times a million.
Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump.
Zenobia glanced around the circle where various tributes decided to go out on their own terms. Numerous pedestals were now smouldering chimneys, their tributes no longer in place. She blocked the voices of the others out as they screamed out in shock.
"Thirty-One...Thirty...Twenty-Nine...Twenty-Eight...Twenty-Seven..."
Matix was nowhere to be found, neither was Shadd. But as Zenobia turned to her immediate right, one of Dixen's children – Jeremiah...? I don't give a shit – was just meters away. His dark skin went immediately pale at the sight of her. It revolted her to even look at the kid, as he resembled his dog of a father too much. It almost made her want to pop a mint into her mouth right then and there...To get rid of his taste...
I sobbed uncontrollably while Mom and Dad lay splayed out on the side of the road, eyes wide, mouths agape, their bodies pocked with bullet holes as one of the older rebel soldiers kicked their lifeless hands to check for movement. There was none. I yearned to be there by their side, but the younger soldier had me by the hair while I extended a hand longingly toward them. To my right there was a commotion and then cries of pain and pleas until they were quickly silenced.
I craned my head far enough to see Paulus splayed out face first on the ground, his head a dented in, bloody pulp. His single eye not obscured by the concrete, gazed emptily past me and down the expanse of the road. The perpetrator, the dark skinned older rebel, shook off excess blood and matter from the butt of his rifle.
"PAULUS!" I shrieked, as I freed myself from the clutches of the younger soldier and stumbled over to my brother's fallen form.
I was just about to turn him over when the butt of a rifle caught the side of my cheek and knocked me to the ground. My Career training kicked back in as I attempted to get up, but it immediately disappeared at the sight of a rifle barrel pointed at my face.
"Whole family fulla fighters!" The dark skinned man exclaimed. "Probably one of th' Capitol's perfect killers-in-training."
"What are we gonna do with her, Dixen?" says the older rebel with a sneer that made my heart falter. The dark skinned one – known as Dixen – turned to the younger soldier.
"Matix," he said, as he withdrew a large knife and loomed slowly over me. "You hold that rifle right there, blow her face off if she makes any moves..."
Matix does what he was ordered to as he trained the rifle between my eyes while Dixen, in one quick motion, slits my blouse straight down the middle, followed by my skirt.
...
Mom and Dad were dead, a bloody heap on the road.
Paulus...Took a beating so hard he went to sleep and never woke up.
"Matix, I'm givin' you th'honors of goin' first since you're th' youngest and probably won't last for shit!"
So many hours lying on the road, exposed.
Never want to see an infirmary for a long time. The pills almost granted me the release I so desperately wanted. I gulped all but two.
The Memorial Wall at Baron Overwhill Academy was filled with so many new names. Names that I knew very well...They were killed for what? I've never seen any Cadet cry during my time on campus, until the dedication ceremony.
"We've been hurt Zenobia – you have been hurt. Be our instrument of judgment."
Panem give me strength.
"Three...Two...One."
Jeremiah threw one of his boots before Zenobia's pedestal just before the 'one' to no effect. Were the Gamemakers looking out for me or was it just the timing? The look on Jeremiah's face was one of pure shock as he turned from her and began to stumble off his pedestal. He didn't get that far though, as Zenobia pounced on him and caught him by the leg. She twisted the ankle awkwardly and relished as he screamed out in pain and did the same thing to the other ankle. Just as she was about to finish him off, she noticed a rainbow of tributes as they gathered around her.
She counted five. Six if she counted the boy who had her in a headlock. Zenobia quickly felt for his head and activated her gauntlets. The boy's grip slackened immediately. She stabbed Jeremiah in the back of the knee for good measure.
A Nine boy came charging forward with a club raised in the air. She ignored the blow he delivered to her neck, as Zenobia swept his feet from under him and joined him on the ground where she punched her katars into his chest four times and dragged one across his throat for good measure.
Zenobia rushed to meet the Five boy as she deflected his sword with one gauntlet and pushed the other gauntlet into his throat. As blood overflowed from his neck, she used him as a shield to take the Ten girl's spear to the gut. His dead weight brought her down with him. As she struggled to free the spear from the boy, a haymaker to the face with Zenobia's gauntlet caused the Ten girl to collapse with a gargled gasp.
Another boy from Five leapt from the nearby pedestal in an attempt to knock Zenobia down. She ducked as he crashed to the ground, only to get tacked into the pedestal by a Six boy. He attempted to gut her with his knife as Zenobia caught his blade hand with one hand and used her free hand to jab his abdomen twice before jabbing him in the face. Zenobia then moved toward the Five boy, rolled him over, and plunged a gauntlet into his chest and ignored him as he wreathed around in agony. All six of them – excluding Jeremiah – were all dead.
Zenobia then turned her attention to the cornucopia, which was a hive of chaos. People were fighting and dying everywhere.
Zenobia rushed headlong into the melee. Maybe I could catch Matix and Shadd's kid unaware. While she made her way further into the horn's radius, she noticed a dark object laying on the grass. Huh...If you're going to add four times the tributes, why not shake things up even more?
During her rush toward the center of the horn, Zenobia spotted a female from Seven who attempted to make way with a rucksack filled with supplies. Zenobia lined up her revolver and fired as she watched the Seven girl tumble to the ground. She fired all remaining rounds indiscriminately into the crowd, uncaring if her targets were dead or not.
This attracted a younger boy from Three, who ducked from the revolver Zenobia threw at him and swiped at her vigorously with his knife. She caught his arm mid-swing and reversed the blade into his chest.
Meanwhile a boy grappled her into another headlock. Zenobia pumped a boot into the face of the Three boy who kneeled in pain in front of her. She then turned her attention to her captor, as she flipped him over her shoulder and delivered a swift kick to the back of his head.
In front of her, a boy from Ten lobbed a spear her way. She dropped to the ground and craned her head and watched as the spear meant for her stuck a girl. She changed her gauntlets from the dagger mode to the 'claw' mode and plunged a claw into the chest of the boy who grappled her.
She moved to engage another boy from Three, as she caught his sword sword between one of her claws and proceeded to stab into his stomach with her free gauntlet. With Three hunched over, Zenobia rolled over his back and pounced on the spear boy from Ten. She swiped at his face multiple times while she ignored the blood that peppered her vision.
A hooded, hulking boy from Eleven clutched Zenobia by the neck while she held his hatchet hand at bay. They struggled back and forth until Zenobia staggered into a crate. She tugged tightly at his hood strings, which rendered him blind but he still was on the attack as he pawed at Zenobia. While she kept him at bay with a boot pressed against his stomach. She collected a tomahawk from the crate she was pinned against and lobbed it at an approaching Eleven girl who crumpled to her knees and then to her face. While still hooded, Zenobia then proceeded to punch the Eleven boy with her gauntlets. She followed him as he staggered from the punches that rendered his abdomen with crimson pocks. One leg sweep rendered him downed forever.
A boy from Eight tripped over Eleven's body, which earned him a discarded pitchfork into his head by Zenobia.
She felt a sharp pain in her shoulder, only to see a knife plunged into it. The culprit being a boy from Four. Zenobia swiveled on her heels and plunged both gauntlets into the sides of his head. Like being electrocuted, the Four boy immediately stilled while his eyes rolled to the back of his head. With a boot to his chest, he tumbled to the ground.
Zenobia ripped the blade out of her shoulder and gave it an underhand lob into a Five girl's throat, who clutched the blade and dropped to the ground.
She watched as two younger boys fought over small black ball. One moment they were there and the next they weren't, as there was a loud noise and her vision filled with smoke while her ears rang like no tomorrow.
Zenobia found herself on the ground next as her head throbbed with pain. She turned onto her back to see a boy from Twelve with his club raised into the air. She planted her boot onto his chest and pumped him back. A One girl rushed forward with a sword raised into the air, only for Zenobia to punch her gauntlet into her groin. Her sword discarded, Zenobia collected it and fended off a strike from the Twelve boy. As he reeled from the deflection, she clambered to one knee and plunged the sword into his gut. Zenobia then rolled onto the injured girl from One and plunged her gauntlet into her neck as blood erupted from the One girl's mouth like a volcano.
As she rose to one knee again, she caught a Seven boy's double tipped spear in the crook of her armpit. Using the boy's spear as leverage, she spun along the length of it to her feet and slashed his throat open and then kicked his knee in.
With his spear in Zenobia's possession, she used the length of the shaft to deflect the swing of an ax from a Nine boy. Stunned by the block, she used the shaft to hit him in the face and plunged one tip into his chest.
Zenobia spotted two tributes from Six as they reeled over a crate. She plunged the spear through the boy and into the girl. Like an off button, their hands fell to their sides as their struggles ceased immediately. She saw movement from the corner of her eye and used the opposite end of the spear to impale an Eleven girl through the throat.
As she gave the spear a twirl, Zenobia swept the feet of a One boy before she plunged the spear into his chest. Zenobia then twirled over to a nearby Four girl and swiped her belly open and then jutted the tip into her throat as she dropped to her knees.
The spear broke as a boy from Five shattered it in half with a downward swing from his mace. Zenobia bobbed and weaved each of his strikes, only to duck out of the way when the mace collided with a steel crate. As he struggled to get the mace free, Zenobia maneuvered to his back, grabbed his head and twisted until she heard a sickening crack.
Meters away, a boy from Eight just finished a girl from Seven with an ax to the throat as he turned to Zenobia and charged. She shoved the dead Five boy to the ground, planted a foot onto the mace-lodged crate and tugged it free. With a spin she let the weapon fly as it crashed into the face of the Eight boy. He slid to the floor, a trail of blood and bone painted the grass below him.
Zenobia turned to engage the next threat, but there weren't any more threats to engage. The bloodbath was over.
Like her PT sessions back at the Academy, her body ached and her breaths were ragged as Zenobia held her blood-sullied gauntlets up to her face. The silver of the blades were barely visible through the blood and gore that stuck to the once ornate material. She retracted the blades and slung a rucksack over her back. Once the ruck was secured, she stumbled over to a nearby crate and sat on it while she took in the bloodied field.
The smoke from the bomb that went off and the tributes that went out their own way gave the Cornucopia a foreboding haze to it. Zenobia breathed it in and immediately gagged as the scent of singed flesh and blood assaulted her nose and mouth. Bodies lay strewn all around the horn, some still pinned by the weapons they were killed with as low moans and dry gags emitted throughout the horn's radius. Those who are lucky enough to still be standing either ran or hobbled away aided by an ally or by themselves.
So this was what it was like...The war that I missed. Thanks to three men.
Matix...Shadd...Dixen.
Zenobia stomped her way over to her pedestal, where Jeremiah still lay. His sister, a twelve-year-old, tried all her might to tug him onto his mangled feet, but to no avail as he shouter for her to leave. She turned and bolted, her pigtails bounced all the while. Zenobia let her go, as she knelt down, protracted a gauntlet and plunged it into his back.
He yowled in pain. "...What...Did I do...?"
"Do you have any folks?" she hissed.
He shook his head. "...What?"
She plunged her gauntlet into his shoulder and twisted. "Are your folks watching?" she pressed again.
He yowled again. "Yes, yes! My mom...My gran...My old man is gone...Executed...Oh God..."
"Oh...That's nice." She bubbled with an acidic edge. "My folks...They're all dead...Killed by your old man."
Zenobia contemplated stabling him dead, but that didn't seem right to her. Would that be painful enough? Eventually he would just become numb to it. She wanted to do something that'd give him and his folks the same hurt she felt back on that night on the road. It was then that she glanced at the pedestal in all its steel glory.
Zenobia fed him punch after punch until the boy fell limp in her grip. Satisfied, Zenobia then tugged him by the hood and planted his mouth against the base of the pedestal.
Channeling the despair, the fear and anger of that night on the road, she raised her boot and powered it down over Jeremiah's head.
Zenobia couldn't describe the scene unfolding around her even if she tried.
The crowd literally exploded with the fury of a nuclear bomb at her footage. They collectively launch to their feet and boom with cheers and applause. Zenobia would count this moment as one of the only moments in which she had ever felt so overwhelmed.
"Zeno-bi-a! Zeno-bi-a! Zeno-bi-a! Zeno-bi-a! Zeno-bi-a!" they scream as flowers and confetti rain down all around her. Everywhere she looks, a hundred eyes were staring back at her in utter adoration.
Olivia, their escort, kisses her cheeks and gushes about how great she is. All the Careers – except Christos and swap in Clarence – gather around her and jostle her shoulders and pump her hand.
Zenobia guessed she couldn't blame them, if she were in their boots. The Third Quarter Quell was a fluke and then the War happened which meant that they were without a victor for a while. And then she came along and delivered on the action and vengeance they were begging for.
"The literal definition of a victor" President Choudhury had called her when she was crowned. "The first victor of a new era"
"The Queen Career" Caesar Flickerman dubbed her in her first victor interview. The press and everyone else rolled with it.
Zenobia simply flashes them all one of her seductive smirks, the lessons taught by her intrepid escort never leaving her. One would be surprised to find out that she isn't an outgoing bundle of energy like one would think a victor like her was. She prefers small company, wine and a good book. If the world were more ideal, she would've forgone volunteering and pursued teaching.
But fate had other plans. Fueled by anger, she went in to do a job and she did it. She regrets absolutely nothing about the forty lives she took and how she took them.
Afterward, she would explain what happened on the road that night – vaguely – to the nation and the bloodlines of those three men were culled out of existence via the Games or execution.
For the most part content, Zenobia continues on with life, becoming dean of Baron Overwhill and devoting herself to its students. Like Savera and her brother Diamond, the events that transpired would never bring back her parents and Paulus, but she was one hundred percent positive that they would've rejoiced with every action she took.
And with that thought, she lays her head down at night with no reservations.
Meanwhile in the presidential box, President Viondra DeWynter eyes Zenobia while mindlessly caressing her presidential sash.
She just loves it when good investments bear fruit.
A/N:And I believe that is that.
Why do this? Because it's the 100th Hunger Games and I feel like I quell twist stories are often glossed through. It's been a hundred years, surely the Capitol would be very jovial and celebrant over this 'milestone'. As the person writing it, it's not an event you can just do a generic format with.
Zenobia only got 1 vote I think. Her story on my antiquated blog was also recalled and rendered useless. Apologies if that scene was unnerving. Even I felt a little off writing it.
I apologize for my style too...I think it was a little bit wonky...Was it? Technically it already happened, so hopefully my style was okay to follow. And words seem to mesh together, so I overlook things no matter how many times I proofread. I might get that checked out.
Thank you to those twelve people who voted. And the one hundred and seventy people who may have gave this project a prolonged read. Here's hoping people like these twenty or so OC victors even more now...As much as you can, really.
I hope that people didn't recognize my math error that being there being 124 tributes in HG 76-79 instead of 120 if you quadrupled the normal 24. I changed it.
...I don't have a 79th victor. I wonder where I'll put them now.
With that being said, time to continue writing for my other SYOT. With how things are going, I should be done everything by midsummer.
Goodbye.