Chapter 11: Motivated Perfection
District Eleven Reaping
Cristian Moldovan - District Eleven Male
"Looking for perfection is the only way to motivate yourself,"
- Ronnie O'Sullivan
District Eleven used to be a shit hole, it still is for some, but it got better.
To survive the district, you have to live by the rules. You have to keep your head down, that's the family motto. It's how one in Eleven could survive, but that's a rule everywhere, is what I'd like to think. This district has alway's been having a hard time, with the peacekeepers that keep on telling us what to do, and how the law dictates what to farm and do every single day.
At least, that's what grandpa used to say before he passed away.
Maybe, that's because the district still had its rebellious moments back at the time. That's time is over and done with, but it's not like the Capitol will ever let us forget.
"Keep working, Eleven!" a nearby peacekeeper ordered me. I didn't look at him, keeping on pulling a large wagon of blueberries behind me. The white armored man walked passed me, not even looking at me, but he knows that I can't do anything to him.
Okay, I lied. Eleven is still a shithole.
This district has it the worst. That's something everyone agrees. The peacekeepers tend to be merciless, whether others follow the law or don't.
"Eleven," the peacekeeper turned back, apparently deciding something randomly.
"Yes, sir."
"You're that Moldovan kid? The rat," the keeper didn't sound disgusted when he said that, but then again, peacekeepers are good with their poker face if nothing else. The slang pisses me off, but what am I supposed to do? Fight him. Beside's, it was what I was. Not that I'll say it like that.
I looked around, seeing no one close, I nodded. "I'd appreciate you not saying it if anyone was nearby. Better know one get's any ideas."
"I suppose," the tall frightening(when aren't they?) peacekeeper agrees. "In any chance, you are needed for information once more."
"Alway's willing to help," I claimed, smiling falsely. Somehow, that worked.
"Wish there we other's as agreeable," the peacekeeper said. "On the matter, it would appear that when a group of my coworker's where playing a card game, the betting money disappeared. Do you any information on who the thief is? Or in any case, where the money is?"
Looking thoughtful, another false gesture, but it works. "I believe there was this Leonardo Gnoza. A thief, you can tell by his lashes. He alway's bragged about stealing from peacekeepers without you all-knowing. He was usually silent from doing so this year, but chances are, it's him."
The peacekeeper nodded, accepting it, or at least, determined it's worth is time. He must have bet a lot of money in that card game to care so much. "Good, Moldovan. Keep up the work. And remember, Panem is watching."
He went on forward on the dirt road we're using. I went to deposit. So, I'm a snitch, well, more like a liar.
I checked in my wagon of blueberries and found a large pouch of money. Yeah, it was me. Big Liar, that's me. Not my fault people are so easy to trick.
It's hard not to grin. Cash is alway's hard to come by, and I'm getting away with it. Well, I'm not a complete asshole, I'm sharing a quarter of it to my family. Too bad about Leo, he alway's said he would change and never steal again. He's going to get punished, but that was the plan. The only person I should look out for is myself. Can't give too much thought about Leo.
The rest of the day went simple, I hid the money, made jokes to my familiar neighbors who smiled, and I put the blueberries at the depot. Yep, all in the day's work for me.
Then I went back home.
"Austin! You ruined my hair, you asshole!" Tia, my silly little sister, still a little dim and concerned over her looks. We both look different from each other, she has lighter skin, blue eyes that don't match my brown. Alway's gets what she wants since she's our parent's little angel. Ha, the boon of being the only sister.
"Listen to her Austin, before you both get to a fight again," Mika, the oldest sibling. He's the serious one of us. That scar under his eye only makes him look grimmer, and kinda like a badass. If only I didn't know that he got that scar from a squirrel, I'd take him more seriously.
"Hell no!" Austin, the second child, the prankster of the family. He never takes anything seriously. "Ain't my fault she can't see a tripwire. Why don't you blame Ty for not warning you?"
Ty, Tia's twin brother, look exactly that same but he has a bigger nose. He was currently hiding it with a book he was reading. "Tia should have been able to figure it out herself. Not my fault she couldn't," he retorted. Ty was alway's a bit of a smartass. And well, it's kinda deserving, seeing that he's the only one capable of going to school.
All my wonderful siblings had stopped their chatter when they saw me.
What? Are they still angry at my master plan? Pointless of them, I'm earning a good living while they work their hardest in this unforgivable and ungrateful district.
Of course, the first sibling to notice me was the youngest in the family, Kyle. That little turd. "Cristian! Cristian! Cristian!"
I almost glowered at the little bastard who took my place as my parent's favorite(Tia doesn't count). I used to be the youngest, getting all the attention, but then Kyle took that.
It makes me wish I never ask for a younger brother.
"Hey, Kyle. What's going on?" I said, pretending to be interested. Using that perfect false smile that fools everyone.
"Darts," the turd squealed, showing that he indeed had darts in his hands. "Austin found it. He also found a poser to practice on."
"Poser?" I asked, confused by this.
Kyle pointed at the end of the wall. There was a poster with a few holes the size of dart pins.
"You mean, poster," I corrected. Dumbass, I thought.
Kyle nodded along. "Austin said it's practice!"
The poster in question is a propaganda kind from the Capitol. Not only that, but it shows a person of undeniable fear here in the district. Farrow Gardener, the first Victor, and one of the Capitol's most prized and symbolic figures they have. For the Capitol Farrow is a hero, to us, he's a murderer, a puppet, and scum. Now, I don't hate him personally(being alive way before my time), but he's still someone the Capitol want's to show off, and those stories about him are almost as bad as President Snow.
Farrow is hated and will always be hated by the outliner districts, for siding with the Capitol and killing rebels and their families.
"Sure," I said. "Give me a dart. Better this than listening in whatever the hell they're on about."
Kyle nodded mechanically, happy that someone joined his little game. What a simple little creature my brother is.
The dart was in my hands, and the poster was the target. I aimed, pulling my hand back a little, and threw it.
It landed right next to the poster.
"That could have been better," the turd commented, snickering. Kyle shouldn't have done that.
"Go get the dart for me, will you?" I asked evenly. I wanted to smash his little face right then and there. So, so much so. But I knew better. None off my siblings would like that, and my parents would freak out. It's obvious who they care for more.
When Kyle went, I put my foot in front of his feet firmly in place. He tripped.
There was some satisfaction when the little shit fell to the ground.
Was I cruel? Was I mean for doing so?
Kyle was crying. I wish he could do something more than that. Beside's, the family will get a bandaid or something for him. Quite frankly, I don't have any love for my family. Not much, it's an ambition of mine to leave when I'm ready. I got loads of cash hidden in the basement(a secret locked box no one bother's to open), and I'll go wherever.
Somewhere where I'll be respected. Snow knows I won't get any from this family.
Somewhere where I'll be perfect.
Calliope Germain - District Eleven Female
"Please tell me you're not volunteering Cal," Thea Everest addressed, concern deep in her voice. "I know you said you wouldn't, but well, your father said you are."
I sighed, resting my head between my arms. I'm in Thea's mansion, specifically, in her nice living room. Her dinner table is where I usually go after my morning exercises. It's a routine I've been doing since I was five, someone my dad wanted me to be doing. Despite how tiring it was, I have to say- I got some muscles on me. This isn't what a normal kid in District Eleven would do(or have the luxury), but having a Victor as a dad helps.
"Of course not," I answered to Thea, a Victor as well. She was walking towards me with a nice cool drink of lemonade in her hands. "Thanks, Thea."
"No sweat, little Cal," the 161st Victor said. She's a head shorter than me. Same brownish dark skin, but her eyes are nut-brown while mine are grey. She also has a dark curly afro while I like my hair in a ponytail style. Thea was alway's there for me after my training routine, and it's nice to have her. She's like the big sister I never had. "So..., I take it you haven't told old Levie about not volunteering."
"No, I didn't. You know how dad is. He's been always so, what's the word? Fragile, I guess," I supposed. Dad and his high expectations, it's always haunted me, but I can't let his expectations of me go to the Hunger Games of all things. "I don't know how to break it to him. He's been training me, wasting a lot of his time to make me into something, but now, maybe even a long time ago, I realize that I can't bet my life on my dad's dumb dream."
Thea hummed, drinking her glass of water. "Sound's complicated," she summed up. "Yeah, your dad was alway's a weirdo. I've been telling him, not just me, but possibly everyone around him to stop getting you killed, but I'm pretty sure the only person who can stop him from dreaming is you. How did he take it?"
Certain words came to mind when I told about my father of my decision.
"You! You disgrace! Get out of here! Get out!"
I was downcasted by this, mostly because I don't want to be that person. I don't want to disappoint or anger my dad. I don't.
"He didn't take it well," I told Thea. Sadness shown in her eyes.
It's just that, mom's death, it made him fear for my life. Dad trained me after that, hoping I'll be more prepared for the Hunger Games than he ever was. To keep me safe, but then we got the idea that he could make me his legacy. He's got his mind all wrapped and thinks he can train me to be in the HG, instead of preparing me for it. Almost like a career.
Thea slammed on her hands on the dinner table. "Oh my god, whatever. We'll get there when we get there. Enough that stubborn mule you call a father," Thea has a slow grin growing on her lips. "Tell me, any progress with Laine."
The groan came instinctively. "Thea! It's not like that! I'd rather kiss Snow's ass than go through this conversation again."
"What's wrong? Come on, both you and Liana went to my party two nights ago. Maybe I was a little drunk, but I think I saw the two of you making out."
"Yeah, you think," I mewled, feeling my face heat up a bit. "We left that party about half the of everyone got around topless. Nothing happened, other than my best friend who now thinks your the worst dancer in Eleven."
"Only when I'm wasted," Thea countered with a smile and then losing it. "Also, I'm disappointed in you Cal. Seriously, it's so obvious by the amount of time you spent with each other that you two would be a great couple."
"Just stop already," I said, can't help but be embarrassed by this. "Is this what Paprika feel's when the media keeps thinking her and that Colt guy are a thing? Thea, Liane has been my friend since pre-school. She's, well, she's not like that."
"I didn't hear a no there Cal," Thea sang, annoyingly.
"Aren't all Victor's supposed to be depressed assholes?" I murmured, wondering honestly, how Thea escaped the arena at all, but that seems rude to ask.
"Not me, squirt," she teased. "I'm a party gal. I don't worry about the HG. That's in the past, and I can do better than be sad."
I nodded absently, drinking my lemonade. It's nice to talk about things, important things I can get my mind off. The only ones I can have a real talk with is Thea and Liane.
A doorbell rang. Speaking of a certain devil...
"Your girlfriends here," Thea observed, getting that drink, sipping, and hiding that damnable smirk.
I playfully glared by my pseudo-big sister and got off my seat, "See you at the Reaping."
"Later," she waved.
Liana Britt was outside. She was the size of Thea, but she had a slender body, light brown eyes, and unique blue eyes. She looked ready to go on a little run with me. Got nothing else the two of us could be doing, so Liana joins with my exercises sometimes.
"So hows Thea?" Liana asked.
"She's good so far. Making jokes at my expense. The usual with her," I answered as best I can, there's no need to bring up the teasing.
The girl across has been with since we were nothing more than a bunch of nervous pre-schoolers. High school, and other things, and perhaps, there's a tiny little fraction of me that is attracted to her personality. She's so carefree, and it's nice to see that. Always telling me what she thinks, and not being scared of my little wannabee status as Victor's daughter.
My best friend had this pretty smile on her face, "What kind of jokes was she making?"
About our relation status, I thought embarrassingly. Instead, I said, "You know. Party stuff. Crappy puns. Stuff like that."
Liana sniffed. "That can't be all."
"Other stuff too, but it's not important," I told her.
"Oh really? Nothing? Nothing at all."
She's being awfully suggestive. "What are you talking about?"
"You know... at the party," Liana smiled deviously. "We kissed."
I somehow choked on air. I was not expecting her to come out like that. There was this small chance she wouldn't bring it up and we'd never talk about it again.
"Yeah..." I started awkwardly, then chuckled. "We sure did. Got off drunk as hell."
Liana was somehow not effected, she seems so nonchalant about it while I'm feeling weird.
"After the Reaping, do you want to go on a date?" Liana asked me suddenly.
...
...
"What?"
Liana shrugged of my gobstruck look. "Yeah, I was thinking about this for a while. I think I have feelings for you and I think now that our reaping hell is over, I could work out whatever I feel for you," she pointed a finger at me and to her while saying this. "So, what do you say?"
So all I had to do was get drunk for this to happen? No wonder Thea is so happy all that time.
"I'd love to."
Things were looking up.
Jessamen 'Jess' Meadow - District Eleven Escort
District Eleven. Three years and I still can't get used to the smell around here.
This District has been doing well since the end of the first century. I've been told stories about how Eleven's were whipped all the time and only Twelve could match it when it comes to the level of poverty.
"Hello everyone!" I cried out, having a microphone to my face looking at the crowd of sullen faces in front of me with a practiced smile.
Nobody wants to be here. I don't want to be here, either. This is cruel. This is inhumane and President Chambers should be ashamed of himself.
"This is the 172nd Hunger Games. It's been a long tradition of Panem to host one every year," I say. Nothing will change if I make some silly speech, everyone will still be sad.
There should
"So, I'd like to make congratulations to District Eleven and it's ten victors!"
At that, there was a slight surprise from everyone at the change of course. There's only so much hopelessness from these Games, I thought. May as well give some new hope.
"Starting with the eldest Victor from seventy years ago: Malcolm Ravender!"
A white-haired man of the age of eighty-eight - doesn't look a day over fifty - stared at the crowd blankly, but waved nevertheless. Some of the crows waved back hesitantly.
The air felt as if it won't suffocate me anymore. Let's continue with the rest.
"Next up is the three back to back victors, starting with: Safi Fled!
The wise old female with the greying ponytail smiled, nodding to the crowd.
"Old grouchy Salamander Schrader!"
The taller robust tough-looking growled at me but went back to his neutral face. He waved.
"The charismatic Locket Cross!"
The good looking victor grinned, still handsome despite his old age, and waved at the crowd with more motion than his fellow victors.
"Next up is the heart of District 11 and I'm sure we've all been in her therapy sessions: Hope Natoma!"
For once, the waves seemed more real when the glasses-wearing kind exotic female waved to them. One of the more popular victors in the District for more reasons than her psychology degree.
"Now we all know about the 146th Hunger Games, don't we! Give it up to our famed married co-victors: Graham Lucro and Gabriela Spot!
The lanky woman with a scar on her face and an obese bearded man looked at one another, took each other hands and waved. Didn't that get the crowd to smile a little! I mean, their victory rivals Katniss and Peeta no doubt.
"And remember Lev German, er, Germaine everyone! He's a victor!"
Shit, I kinda forgot about the guy. The muscular victor had an unfriendly look on his face, most definitely annoyed by me. He wasn't exactly the most memorable victor, no offense. He simple followed some careers and won in the end. He's not friendly, to begin with, now that I think about it.
"Now to our previous Quarter Quell winner. The ultimate survivor: Shayda Thando!"
The nervous woman didn't wave to anyone, but she gave a quick shaky smile. A nearly ordinary woman with average features with the only expectation being a robot eye. Not someone you'd expect to win in an arena with ninety-six tributes.
"And finally, the party animal everyone loves: Thea Everest!"
Thea had some actual cheering, and she waved to them as they smiled, waving back. The youngest victor parties must have done good for the morale of this district.
District Eleven isn't the moody place it's been anymore. I mean, they have ten victors! This century has been better for them than the first. Hell, they have more victors here than any other outer district. At the very least, less of the Elevens stopped glaring at her.
"Now, let's get on and hope we'll get another victor to join these fine examples!" I finished cheering and walked to the girl's bowl. The smiling stopped, noticeably.
I took out a small piece of parchment for the glass bowl, reading the poor girl's name before saying it to the crowd.
"Liana Britt!"
Silence came as expected.
"I volunteer as tribute!"
Well, shit. I can't say I was expecting it. I mean, maybe one day, but today. Never mind, I don't know when to expect someone actually trying to join a death game. This isn't a career district(however, this outer district is possibly the closest to it) and no one has to volunteer.
It never ends well, as I saw three times behind the scenes of the Hunger Games. My job quickly filled me with dread after the first year.
My eyes traveled to the confident girl walking forward with unblinking gray eyes, brown hair made into a ponytail. She's tall, pretty, and I see that she has muscles. She's practically career material!
She came up to the stage and said her name, "Calliope Germaine," the volunteer turned to the crowd and smiled as if trying to reassure someone. "And District Eleven is going to have another victor soon."
For the first time, there was cheering. This girl had a good confident thing for her, and it's not hard to see becoming a favorite.
Wait, her name.
I looked at the unnoticeable victor who I now believe is her father. Lev Germaine had a poker face, no showing anything to anyone. Usually, some parents cry or scream in anger. He's not going anything. Strange.
Feeling a sudden surge of confidence I haven't felt in two years, I walked to the opposite glass bowl and picked up a slip of paper.
"Now onto the boys! Ahem, give it up for Cristian Moldovan!"
"NO!"
I suddenly see a small boy hugging a taller one who was going to walk forward. The older boy has short hair, the usual dark skin in Eleven and he looked annoyed at the younger one. There was some arguing, and it was clear that Cristian was trying to comfort his younger brother, telling him it's going to be okay.
Such a heart-warming start, and it will surely bring a good type of attention.
Nevertheless, the boy strutted to the stage with a smile after he convinced his brother to go.
"To the District Eleven tributes: Calliope Germaine and Cristian Moldovan!"
The two shook hands, losing their smiles for one second.
As for me. I smiled brightly.
I may hate the Hunger Games, but it's still my job.
A/N: Thanks SparrowBirdEliza for the selfish Cristian Moldovan, and also AGirlAndHerWildIdeas for the jack-of-all-trades Calliope Germaine! So yeah, It has been a while, and now, I'm announcing a small summer season hiatus. It's more on the fact that I don't have internet where I'm going than anything else.
I want to make some things clear...
1) Anyway, I came back from the summer vacation was great for me. Will any reader be willing to tell me your funniest summer vacations?
2) Did you guys know I have ELEVEN volunteers in this SYOT! I mean, wow. Nearly half right there.
3) Thank you curiousclove for reviewing! It's feeding me and keeps me alive.
4) Also, what do you think about Jess Meadow and the Eleven victors? I wanted to try a new POV.
5) Okay, I know this came late, but District Twelve will come soon, and at least I finished this chapter.