Hey I still need a Three male and Seven male from Sparky She-Demon, a Six female from Tracelyn, and a Nine male from Manny61945. Manny is in contact so I know his is coming. To the others on the list: it's okay it's taking longer, I get that I write way faster than most people. I pretty much only give away slots if I think the submitter isn't currently active on fanfic. So if you still want the slots, I just need any sort of message that you're still here.
Linden Anderson- District Eight male
Tulle had a nasty look in hey eye as she barreled toward me, stiff-armed and bent forward. I was still racking my mind for what I'd done when she exploded.
"You bastard! You cheated on me!"
Oh. That.
It wasn't really such a big deal. It's not like she was pining away every night thinking about me. We weren't together every minute of the day. When we were apart, it made sense we'd do our own thing. I'd told her she could have other guys too, I just wanted them to be uglier than me. I liked to think that was most people, so it wasn't unreasonable.
"I didn't think it was a big deal," I said.
"Not a big deal?" Tulle said, and I was grateful I'd stayed late to look something up in a reference book and most people had already left the school building. This was not a good look for a popular kid.
"Yeah, it's just sex. It's not like we're married," I said.
Tulle gawked at me for a minute. "Well, it is a big deal. A big deal-breaker, actually. We're over." She turned and started storming out of the building.
"Hey, come on! I'm sorry, okay? I didn't think you'd mind! I thought we were open!"
Tulle stalked out of sight, leaving me confused and alone. Guess we're open now.
As I walked home, I was already thinking of my next move. Tulle was a good girlfriend, but we obviously weren't compatible. I could see that next time, I would have to be more clear about my intentions.
I crossed the street when I heard scuffling sounds in an alleyway. Scuffling alleys were never good, and I was actually relieved when I saw it was just a couple of teenage thugs picking on some other kid. I paused, wondering if I should help, but kept going. Best not to get involved. They weren't killing him, just roughing him up a bit.
"Hey, Linden!" my father, getting up from the table and coming in for a hug when I walked in.
"Hey, Dad. What are you up to?" I asked.
"He sighed, looking down at a paper on the table. "I finalized the list of hires today. At least the pay is good."
Job opportunities are unusual in the House of Rocher. Everyone knew the haute couture gowns weren't actually made by Juno Rocher, and that that level of handmade work required a lot of anonymous Districters. But this order was for the Hunger Games outfits- everything from Caesar's suit to interview gowns. Anyone involved in that was rigorously screened to ensure they would have no contact with anyone of Reaping age. Workers were very well-paid by District standards, but they were separated from their families for months. I never took part in the sewing part of the business, since I was being groomed to take over it all.
"I hope your day was good, at least," he said.
"Eh, I've had better."
Othella Fline- District Eight female
At least I always knew it was a dream. There was nothing real about the bear that chased me. It was bigger than any real bear, and it had glowing fangs and claws. It had no eyes, just holes that I knew could see me anyway. It foamed at the mouth, and specks flew everywhere when it roared as it ran after me.
Worst of all were the dreams where I couldn't run. Those horrible dreams where you wanted to run, but your legs wouldn't go fast. They moved, but slowly, lazily. And you knew your parents were close and wanted to scream, but it came out a little hiss of air.
I was in a forest this time. Sometimes it was a forest, sometimes it was the cityscape of Eight, and sometimes it was even my house, just a stretched-out version. The bear was always the same distance behind me. I kept running as fast as I could, and I could just keep him behind me. But I knew I'd get slower eventually, and the bear never would.
There was a huge crash, and the bear tumbled forward. Before I could see what he hit, I was looking at the ceiling, realizing something actually had crashed. Immediately, my half-asleep brain conjured up the same figure I always imagined. A skinny dark-haired man took shape beside by bed, arms crossed sourly.
"You got away again," I pretended he said. My imaginary friend was surprisingly rude. Maybe that says something about me. Personally, I just thought it was because I liked to gather all my negative emotions together and deal with them face-to-face.
I huddled in bed, pushing myself up against the wall and gathering the blankets in. I knew what it was that would kick down a door in the middle of the night.
They're not supposed to come until Wednesday, I thought, like it made any difference what the rules were. The Dark Triad were the ones that made the rules. They were the ones not to cross in this part of Eight. People gave them their dues, or they dealt with something even worse.
The voices were too quiet to make out much, but I heard what was going on. They were demanding their protection money early, and my father was placating them while my mother fetched it. No doubt they found a surprise source for morphling or some other party drug and wouldn't wait until Wednesday to shoot up. The only thing in my life worse than the bear was the paralyzing, hopeless knowledge that they knew I was here, and if they ever decided to come to my door, Dad wouldn't be able to hold them off.
The door shut, and I lay flat in bed again. The man by my bed looked out absently, unaffected by all of this. Hadley was just imaginary. They couldn't hurt him. They just made him much more visible, so defined he almost seemed real. He came most when I was afraid.
Officially a haute couture house has to have a building in Paris, but since Paris is presumably not there, definitions have changed.
Linden: 5ft 10. He has thick, natural black hair that he tends to slick back. His jaw is not strong but it is defined with high cheekbones and a long, slim face. Thing lips with tanned skin and light green eyes. His smile is his most attractive trait. Wide, the type that creates lines on your face. He is seen as attractive.
Othella: African american. Black flat hair down to the shoulders. 5'3. Tired blue eyes and rings under them.
