ix
tesla watt, 13.
district five male.
Tesla doesn't hate Five. In fact, he kind of likes it; after all, it's what he knows and where he's grown up. That sets the bar low, of course, but he just isn't sure why people seem to be so insistent that he has to leave Five one day.
"You're so smart," they tell him. "You'd totally get into one of Three's universities if you tried. Maybe even one of those Capitol ones if you really wanted."
He knows that it's a compliment, and he'll blush and turn away and be generally off-put by the comment because hasn't learned how to handle praise just yet, but it's almost constant nowaday and Tesla just doesn't get it. Even if he did make it out, what then? He'd go get an education in Three or the Capitol, and come straight back to Five where — no matter how high his IQ is or how smart people perceive him to be — his future lies in one of the engineering plants? Or he'd score some position in Three and leave everyone he knows and loves behind to be overworked in another district? Even if by some miracle he ended up working somewhere in the Capitol he'd become one of the people he so desperately hates.
Tesla isn't a pessimistic person, but he just doesn't see the point in getting his hopes up for a gleaming future on account of his talents that more than likely won't get him anywhere. The praise flows at the moment, now that he's a thirteen year old about to graduate high school this summer, but Tesla can't imagine that people will care when he's thirty and working in an engineering plant with little to no chance of ever retiring.
So as his best friend shoves the pamphlet detailing how to apply for a Capitol university closer to his face, Tesla wrinkles his nose and turns away.
"I've already told you I'm not interested, Martin." He sighs, waving a hand. "It's way too expensive, anyway. Do you really think my dad can afford to send me to a Capitol university on an engineer's wage?"
Martin rolls his eyes. "If you read the pamphlet you'd see they have scholarships. You could qualify for one of those easy. They want brains and you've got 'em."
"I have to wait anyway." Tesla reaches forward, taking the pamphlet from his friend. He points at the front. "Look. 18 and over."
"They might make an exception."
"Martin, I'm smart by Five's standards. I doubt I am by the entirety of Panem's."
"All I'm saying is that if you don't at least try and reach out to see then you'll never know."
Tesla shrugs. "I'm okay with that."
Martin looks displeased, but he doesn't say anything. Tesla puts down the pamphlet, turning his attention back to the list of homework questions in the textbook. There's quiet for a few minutes, only the sound of pencils on paper, and then Martin speaks up.
"I'd love to have the opportunity to leave Five," he says, glancing over at the pamphlet again. "You really should consider it."
And that's what it all falls down to, Tesla supposes. Escapism. Martin wants to leave Five; Tesla's parents want to leave Five; his teachers wish they had the chance to leave Five… and because Tesla could have a chance they latch onto it. After all, if someone they know leaves the district, then it could happen to them… right? And, well, even if it doesn't then they still know someone who got to leave, and there's not that many people who can say that.
Truthfully, Tesla would like to go and study somewhere else. He really would. But he's not partial to change, and he's just scared… scared to get his hopes up and have them not lead anywhere. He doesn't want to study in the Capitol and get to see all those sights, only to have to come back to Five and pretend like he'd never been away.
"Are you done?" Tesla sighs. Martin raises his eyebrows, looking almost surprised by the question. "I mean… with the homework. I doubt you're done harassing me about—"
"I wasn't harassing you." Martin shakes his head. "Just think that you should keep your options open, y'know?"
"I know." Tesla closes his workbook, standing up to stretch his legs. "Anyway, are you almost done?"
"Yeah. Almost. You want me to walk you home?"
Tesla nods. Just because Martin had taken him under his wing, and he was generally liked by most of the seniors, it didn't mean that he was free from the teasing of other kids. "They haven't bothered me in a while, but just in case."
Martin finishes scribbling something down, and then the two of them pack up their things to head home.
That night, Tesla slips the pamphlet into the top drawer of his nightstand. He's pretty staunch in his position that he doesn't want to apply but… things change. Maybe it'll come in handy some time.
He has another five years before it's crunch time to make the decision, after all.
soran thyme, 16.
district nine female.
Her and her team's arrival in District Nine is both relieving and stressful all at once. It had taken them a while to reach District Nine, the four of them pushing themselves to cover as much land as possible in order to make it before the reaping, but now that they were here the chaos didn't stop. Two days before the reaping, they had to register themselves, buy reaping day attire, and try to figure out where they would go from here.
District Nine certainly looks nice, but Soran expects that they will tire of it pretty quickly if they realise that there's no escape.
"We should go register," Lia says, fighting back a yawn as the centre of Nine comes into view. "So we know it's done and all. Then we can find somewhere to eat and sleep."
Soran shrugs, her arms swinging by her side as she takes long strides. "Sounds good to me."
"I hope this doesn't take long," Addah says. "I'm starving."
Cal just nods, her lips pulled into a small smile but the weariness evident on her face. Their sport of district racing was fun, although definitely illegal, but there wasn't too much praise to be said about the many nights between districts where the only barrier between their backs and the floor were the flimsy sleeping bags they can't yet afford to replace.
It takes them a little while to locate the Justice Building, but they do make it there eventually and, with a few little white lies about there having been a mishap at last year's reaping and them just wanting to make sure they're registered, they're able to 'update their records' and all be entered into District Nine's systems.
It seems a bit odd to Soran that they'd actively register themselves for the reaping when they might be able to just get away with not being entered, but the risk of getting caught is just too high. It's not as if they know the best places in this district to hide out from the peacekeepers, and if they're caught shirking off the reaping then everything else will be up in the air, too. There won't be much district racing from wherever the Capitol will keep them once they're found breaking however many laws, that's for sure.
Their chances of getting reaped are slim to none,
The four of them filter out of the Justice Building around twenty minutes once they've entered, and Soran feels the tiredness sinking into her bones at the mere thought of actually being able to sleep. But… it's going to be a long wander around the district to find somewhere to take them. All districts have their own cluster of inns, but they're usually for visiting Capitol officials, and highly expensive. Especially for the four of them.
But they've gotten pretty adept at sniffing out notice boards and the fliers pinned to them advertising spare rooms in people's houses. As long as they pay up, there's typically no questions and even if the four of them have to cram on, a bed is a bed. They don't need anything fancy.
"That dress would look lovely on you, Soran!" Cal's voice makes her jump as the four of them are crowded around one of the aforementioned notice boards. She turns around, following her best friend's pointer finger.
"The yellow one?" Soran tilts her head to the side. "I dunno, Cal…""No, she's right," Addah chimes in. "You can try it on tomorrow. If we wait until the afternoon we'll be able to haggle it down more since it's so close to the reaping."
"Smart," Cal murmurs with a nod.
Their first three notice boards yield nothing. Soran feels as if her shoes have turned into lead as the four of them traipse around, quiet for once. The moment they're able to sleep, even if they have to walk back to the outskirts and find somewhere to hide away, the four of them will be absolutely conked out. Soran can call it already.
There's nothing better than that first sleep after reaching a district, or after running a race.
Other than, maybe, finally finding somewhere they can afford to lodge for however long they're here. Lia is the one to find the notice, ripping it from its pin with a grin. Only five coins a night. That's definitely doable.
Their final move is to stock up on food. Their last race gave them a fair amount of money for a prize, and this is the first time they've had the chance to spend it. They don't go too crazy — aware that their money has to stretch to lodgings and reaping attire as well — but they're full enough by the time they reach the small home that belongs to the lady who wrote the flyer Lia had found, and they still have food left over which they offer to share with the woman who opens the door and ushers them in when they ask about the spare room.
Her teammates are snoring only a few minutes after they all pile on the bed together, a tangle of hair and limbs.
But before Soran lets herself be carried off into dreamland, she spares a thought for her younger brother in Five.
She misses him.
chaff heatherson, 16.
district nine male.
Chaff has made up his mind about what he's going to do at next week's reaping, and he has a feeling that his father isn't going to like what Chaff has decided. Still, what doesn't know can't hurt him, and so he makes another decision to not mention it.
It's early in the morning, the sun peeking out over the horizon, when Chaff leaves the house. The East Fields should be empty for another few hours at least, and Chaff at least wants to get a little bit of dance practice in before he has to head to school. He'd intended to sneak out last night, but tiredness had put an end to that plan when he'd fallen asleep around 10 PM. As is the way of life.
It wasn't a complete disaster; at least he woke up in time to head out. Chaff doesn't want to think about how torturous it would have been to have to sit through the whole of school having missed his chance. He doesn't like to think he's obsessed like some might say, but he just hates having been still for so long. Besides, what else is he supposed to do with his free time? Wallow?
Because every moment he spends in his house is a moment that he's aware of Shea and his mother being gone. When he leaves his room, he can see his sister's door, always slightly ajar from where he and his father will occasionally just go in and stare. She always hated them leaving her door open, but Chaff can just never bring himself to fully close it.
He's scared that if he does he'll never have the strength to open it again. That he'll be closing the door on the chapter of his life that he got to spend with her.
Chaff tries his best to stay upbeat and happy, but he can only do that if he dances. It helps him. Releases the emotions he lets build up inside of him yet doesn't know fully how to express.
It frees him in a way that nothing else seems to.
He lets himself go the moment he reaches the fields. He stretches and dances, jumping and leaping and twirling. And just like that, the anger and the hurt and the uncertainty vanishes. There's only Chaff and the sun and the fields.
Sometimes when he dances he can feel Shea and his mother watching him. Sometimes he swears that he sees them out of the corner of his eye. But, when he stops and tries to find them, they're gone. Almost there, but not quite.
He loses track of time when he dances, too caught up in his movement and that blissful feeling of feeling nothing at all. It's only when his father's voice cuts through the silence and a hand on his shoulder makes him jump, that Chaff comes back to reality.
"Thought I'd find you out here," his father says, chuckling slightly. "If you want to shower and get to school on time you'd better hurry."
Chaff wipes the sweat from his brow, chest heaving as he starts his cool down exercises. "Thanks, Dad."
Chaff doesn't know where he'd be without his father. Chaff lost a sister and a mother on that fateful reaping, his sister to the slip that was pulled from the bowl and his mother to the firing of a peacekeepers gun, and his father lost a wife and a child. People might try to compare them, say that one of them has it worth, but Chaff doesn't care. It cut them both deeply. Scarred them. But, ultimately, clinging to each other was what got them through.
"You ought to be more careful, you know," his father's voice is firm as the two of them walk home side by side. "You didn't even notice me when I came up. I could've been a peacekeeper for all you know."
"I'll try." Chaff nods. "Sorry."
"It's all right. You've just got to be careful. I can't lose you too, Chaff."
The words almost send Chaff bolting towards the fields again, guilt cementing itself in his veins. He's made his decision about what he's going to do, and he's confident it will go the way he wants, but he also knows that there are a lot of ways that it might go south very, very quickly. But… he needs to do it. For himself, for Shea… and for his father, too, because the money awarded to Victors is nothing to scoff at.
"I love you, Dad," is all he manages to get out. If his voice shakes, either his father doesn't pick up on it, or decides to ignore it.
"I love you too, Chaff."
He needs to do this. He has to.
Chaff looks towards his father, a lump in his throat.
I'm sorry.
it has been... a hot minute...
december sucked, january sucked, but things are getting better and, man, writing this author's note...? i feel better than i have in months. literally. i'm so happy to finally have this out, even if it's not entirely my best work. sorry. i'm blaming covid on that one.
but! we're done with intros!
the next chapter will consist of the district one - six reapings where we'll get to meet the escorts and see our tributes (albeit briefly) for a second time. then, after that we'll have the seven - twelve reapings and then it's onto the capitol which i am unbelievably excited for.
i'm not going to promise any dates or such, since recovering from covid is literally the worst and things are very day to day right now, but i'm hoping it won't be a whopping almost eight weeks again.
anyway, stay safe and wear a mask! covid is not fun!
-edie :)