Brock Carver, District Two male (12)
The egg stung as it smacked against my cheek. It broke open, slimy wetness spraying over me with the instantly familiar rotten stench. I gritted my teeth against the humiliation and rage. We had to get to the Reaping. As much as I wanted to fight, and as much as I usually would, I had to get Emmy and the others to the Reaping.
"Traitors!" Alex called mockingly. He didn't even believe the words he was slinging. Alex Simms was just a common bully. He had no idea what those words even meant when called out by the hordes of Two citizens who fully believed them. It wasn't a schoolboy insult for me. It was my life, and my parents' lives, and my grandparents, all the way back to some Peacekeeper sixty years ago who defected to the rebels before the Dark Days were even over.
"Cowards!" Alex called as I scooted past him, clutching Emmy close to me and out of his reach. He snaked an arm out and yanked her toward him. There was a flash of metal and then Emmy was screaming. Sheer horror turned into relief when I saw it was her braid he'd cut off and not her flesh.
I was relieved for only a second before Emmy's helpless screams chased every thought from my mind and I saw red. I charged at Alex, fists flying, no regard to him being twice my size and having two friends with him. In a minute I was on the ground shuddering under the assault of three pairs of legs coming at my stomach and back.
I woke up, though I hadn't exactly been unconscious, with Jake holding me up in our section of the Reaping. I searched the crowd and found Emmy's worried face so I could give her a smile even though her half-shorn hair brought hastily wiped-away tears to my eyes.
Our day will come, I told myself as I tried to stand. Someday they'll see us for who we are.
Philomena gave her fake musical laugh as she reached for the bowl.
"Brock Carver!" she called.
I didn't even care my name was called. Someone would volunteer anyway. I just didn't want to walk to the stage. I found my balance and limped up to her. Some girl named Tiziana joined me.
"Do we have any volunteers?" Philomena chirped. I edged away as Alice joined me onstage. I'd seen her around and she was just creepy.
There was a moment of silence.
"Any other volunteers?" Philomena prodded.
I realized all at once with the second silence. There was someone out there who very much wanted to volunteer. There were other people out there right now telling him that as much as they wanted him to go and win, they wanted me to die even more. The honor of a Descendent- one of the last reminders of a blot of Two's history- was so low that losing one was a greater gain than bringing home a Victor.
I grabbed the microphone. "You're wrong!" I yelled. "You're wrong about me and I'll prove it! You'll see what we're like when I win the Games and show who we're fighting for!"
Out in the crowd a few scattered children clapped. It was a quiet, distanced noise almost swallowed up by the expanse of the crowd. But it was worth more than a standing ovation to me. Out there in the District that hated them and wanted to destroy them, my people united to cheer me on.
Elle Phant, District Eight female (17)
Sometimes people ask me if my name is really Elle Phant. I always respond the same way.
"Uhh, pretty sure I remember my own name. An elephant never forgets. And neither do most other things. Pretty much no one forgets their name." Then I pull a rabbit out of a hat or something since I'm a magician. I'm actually not an elephant.
Circus life was the best life. It was the only way I ever would have been able to travel. Sometimes doctors or scientists get invited to live in the Capitol but that wasn't going to happen for me. I wasn't bad at math or science but really I just got good grades because I was super good at memorizing things. When it came to actually understanding them I wasn't so hot. So I applied for a job as a popcorn popper and eventually found my way into the show as a magician. Magic tricks also involved a lot of memorization so that worked out.
"Check this out," Tabitha said. She demonstrated a new tumble she'd learned, one that looked like she face-planted but then she did a funky barrel roll and ended up on her feet again. Tabitha was basically made out of rubber. It made sense she hung out with Lester, who was literally made out of rubber.
"Nice," I said with an approving nod. It was a nice tumble, though I'd have said the same even if she just did something totally boring like a somersault. I just enjoyed hanging out with Tabitha and Lester and everyone. When I reflected on it, probably the biggest reason I joined the circus wasn't for the travel. I just liked the family. I liked having a built-in friend group of people I lived with and worked with and could always be around. I didn't spend every waking moment with other people but I liked knowing that any particular moment I wanted to be with people I could find someone. I felt at home in a group.
"Did you all hear Jarvis and Chervil were kissing behind the pipe organ?" I asked. I might have been pretty laid-back but I liked a little harmless gossip.
"Nu-uh," Tabitha said.
"Yeah-huh," I said. "Columbine saw them."
"Columbine just likes to tell stories," Lester scoffed. "She's only a trapeze artist because they get looked at the most."
"Didn't she used to be the cage cleaner?" I asked.
"Don't remind her. She'll try to ruin your life," Lester said.
"She'll put a mouse in your hat," Tabitha said, her eyes sparkling with mischief.
"It was one time!" I said. "It came out of nowhere and surprised me!"
"Elle Phant's afraid of miiiiiiiice," Tabitha teased, her hands to her mouth like a bullhorn.
"Like that's even her real name," Lester said.
"Uhh, pretty sure I remember my own name..."
Brock: Brock is African-American who is 4 foot 11, has a buzz cut hairstyle, well-fed, a thin build with a little bit of muscle in him, and many bruises and cuts on his body and face due to fighting.
Elle: Elle's form only listed her as having a stocky built. I assume the form just forgot to mention she also has gray skin and is ten feet tall.