Chaos Reigns: The 55th Hunger Games Chapter 7: Districts 2 & 10 Intros, a hunger games fanfic

Nero Inculta, 18

District 2 Male

Deep breath. Focus. Release. Nero let his arrow fly, watching it soar straight into the dummy's heart with a thunk.

"Nice work," Carmen said. Nero gave his training partner a grateful smile and then set his bow down, rubbing a hand through his sweaty red hair. She flopped down beside him.

"You're so lucky," she sighed. "I wish I could volunteer. You're going to make history!"

"Thanks," Nero said, bumping her shoulder with his. She bumped him back.

"Well, history might be a stretch," someone said, approaching from behind them. Nero frowned, recognizing Solomon's voice. He was clearly bitter that Nero was the chosen volunteer, and took every chance he could to get under Nero's skin.

"After all, your success was given to you."

Nero and Carmen both jumped to their feet. He was about to shout, but Carmen beat him to it.

"Solomon, are you really so jealous you're falling back on playground insults? Just how pathetic are you?"

Solomon opened his mouth to retaliate but Carmen pushed on. Nero just shook his head. He didn't want to deal with this.

"Carmen, it's fine," he said. "Let's just go." But his friend ignored him, so Nero placed his bow back on the rack and left. Once Carmen got started, there was no stopping her.

He appreciated her, but outside of the Academy, she was a bit much. He preferred the company of Mason Black, his best friend. Mason never assumed Nero's successes came from his grandparents. He knew how hard Nero worked to be his own person, and that meant the world to time.

While Nero loved his grandparents, he also wished they weren't quite so… famous. Grandma Des won the 6th Hunger Games, and Grandpa Nero helped her build the first training academy in District 2. So while he understood why the other kids assumed he received special treatment, it still stung. But he wouldn't let it get him down.

Nero's feet unconsciously carried him to the blacksmith's shop he worked at before remembering that tomorrow was reaping day. He didn't have work today. Usually he'd head to his job right after his morning training session, but now he had the rest of the day free. So he headed to Mason's house.

When his dad died, Mason was his rock. When Mason lost his baby sister, Nero was there for him. He trusted him with his life, and today, he needed someone on his side.

He knocked on the front door of the small townhouse Mason lived in and was greeted by Mason's mom.

"Nero!" she said, sounding surprised. "Don't you have work?"

"The reaping," he reminded her. She pursed her lips, but nodded.

"Well, come on in. It's good to see you. Mason is in his room."

"Thank you," Nero said, giving her a smile.

Mason's room, while small, was one of the most beautiful places in District 2. He was an artist and was always drawing when he wasn't working in the quarry. Nero stepped inside and stopped to marvel at the art.

"Hey man," Mason said, looking up from a sketch of a river. "Everything okay?"

"Solomon Bell is an asshole," Nero replied, sitting on the edge of the bed. Mason nodded understandingly.

"Well, the good news is that assholes don't win the Hunger Games. Hard workers do. And you're ready, Nero."

Nailah Nebit, 18

District 2 Female

A summer storm was brewing outside as Nailah burrowed deeper into her blanket. Her jasmine tea had gone cold, but her book was too enticing for her to care. Nailah rarely chose to indulge in fantasy novels, preferring to read scientific articles or memoirs. Fantasy got her too carried away, and Nailah liked to stay grounded.

Lightning flashed outside, illuminating the worn pages of her book. It was a recent novel, published by the Capitol author Tyrian Blue, and it was about a victor who gained magical powers. The concept was fairly interesting, but Tyrian's style was what drew her in. It was artistic and flowy, almost poetic, and so unlike what she usually read.

Surprisingly, Nailah's other literary favorite was history. There wasn't much available in Panem, but she devoured whatever there was. Her family had immigrated to Panem shortly after the Dark Days, so she had access to more information than most. Her country of origin was somewhere east of Panem, somewhere with an intricate religion that just couldn't be found in Panem.

"Nailah!" her mother called from the kitchen, her cry accompanied by the clattering of pots and pans. With a sigh, Nailah closed her book and picked up her mug, carrying it to the kitchen to wash it.

Their home was small, but cozy, and their kitchen was the same. Her mother Rashida was stirring something that smelled spicy and delicious.

"Hi mama," Nailah said, rinsing her mug and drying it with a cloth.

"Are you ready for tomorrow?" her mother asked, not meeting Nailah's eyes.

"Yes," she whispered. Tomorrow morning, Nailah would volunteer for the Hunger Games. She had been training since she was eight, and had easily risen through the ranks of the Academy. But her parents always thought it was a hobby, not a lifelong goal. Nailah didn't even know when it had changed. It must have been slow and silent, like a lion approaching its prey. But now that she'd tasted it, she knew she couldn't go back.

Her mother scooped the spicy beans from the pot and poured them onto flat, homemade tortillas. Nailah brought over the bowl of ground beef and together they assembled half a dozen small tacos. A perfect dinner for when her papa came home.

And sure enough, just as the clock struck 7, he came in, shaking rain from his hair. Nailah took his coat and shook it outside before hanging it up while her parents kissed. She wrinkled her nose at that, making her mama laugh.

Sitting together at the table, Nailah took a moment to absorb the warmth her family radiated. The Hunger Games would be the most difficult thing she'd ever faced, even more difficult than school. Being a shy child in a District 2 school was… hard, to say the least. But she did it. So she could do this.

Bess Carver, 17

District 10 Female

Bess tossed and turned, listening to Vonn's snoring and Jai's murmuring. She was used to sharing a room with the twins, but she didn't have to like it. After a few more minutes of the noise, she kicked her blanket off and dressed quickly in the dark. It was Reaping Day, but the sun wasn't up yet.

Tip-toeing downstairs, Bess slipped out the back door and into the dusty courtyard her family shared with four others. The gate creaked as she opened it and slipped out into the fields.

She was born and raised in the feeding yards of 10, where strength was valued more than anything. And Bess was strong. And she liked it too. Several years ago, she set aside a piece of broken fencing that was going to be tossed and used it as a barbell. It was still out behind an old shed.

Laying down in the dust, Bess lifted the rail above her head with a grunt. She'd tied rocks to the ends to make it heavier over the years, and now she could lift something akin to a young teen with only minimal difficulty.

After her weightlifting, Bess picked up heavy chunks of rock and began to throw them at greater and greater distances. Then she finished up her morning workout with a run around the facilities.

When she got back to her house, the smell of cinnamon and porridge was streaming from the open windows. Her dad was making a special breakfast for the reaping.

At the thought of the reaping, Bess's stomach churned. A few years ago, her neighbor was reaped. She died brutally in the bloodbath. Ever since, Bess's fear of the Hunger Games had grown. She was lucky enough to not have to take tesserae, but not many kids in 10 did. Surprisingly, they were one of the richer outer districts.

Bess stepped inside, hands shaking from both fear and fatigue. The door shut behind her a little too loudly and her mom shouted.

"Careful!" Dee yelled at her daughter.

"I'm sorry!" Bess said back, still a little too loudly.

"Bess Carver!" her mom snapped back. "Lower your damn voice!"

Bess didn't reply to that, instead fleeing up the stairs to the bathroom. She stepped into the shower and took a few deep breaths. Tensions were always high on reaping day, and her mom was tense regardless. She was a great mom - Bess would defend her until the day she died - but she had a short fuse and it could be stressful. It especially bothered Jai, who was quite sensitive.

After her shower, Bess put on a white shirt and tight black pants. Vonn washed everyone's boots last night, so her work boots were cleaner than they'd ever been. She slipped them on and joined her family at the table, making sure to sit further away from her mom than usual.

The porridge was delicious; loaded with cinnamon and small apple slices. Her dad was an excellent cook. Though he wasn't big and strong like Bess and his wife, he was intelligent and kind and amazing with food. Everyone on the ranch agreed he was the best cook around. It made her proud.

They mostly ate in silence, and Bess could hear Jai breathing loudly. Vonn put a hand on his twin's shoulder and gave it a squeeze.

"Don't worry Jai," she said. "District 10 is massive. And you're only 13. You're going to be fine."

"Yeah," Vonn said. "I promise."

"We promise."

Omar Beatriz-Calvert, 15

District 10 Male

Omar ran one hand through his wavy hair, poking at the eggs on his plate with the other. He wasn't hungry. It was Reaping Day, and he was absolutely terrified.

"Omar, eat your eggs," his dad instructed, pointing at his son with his fork.

"I'm not very hungry," Omar whispered.

"I'll take them!" his sister Louise said, sliding his plate over and shoveling a bit of scrambled egg into her mouth.

"Louise!" his mother scolded, reaching for the plate. But Louise twisted away from her, bringing a small smile to Omar's face. The warmth and light of his family was a good comfort on this frightening day.

Lorenzo stood from the table to clear his plate, chair scraping against the old linoleum. He grabbed Louise's old plate too and turned to their mom.

"Do we have to go?" he asked. Omar knew what he was referring to.

"Yes," Julieta said, putting a hand on Lorenzo's shoulder. "But we will be home right after, and Louise and I will be making cookies."

"What?" Louise gasped. "Why me?"

"Because making cookies is fun," Omar told her matter-of-factly. Louise stuck out her tongue at him.

"Alright," his dad said, clapping his hands. "Everybody up. We've got to go." At that, the Beatriz-Calvert family fell silent, gathering their things and heading out the door. Omar checked the buttons on his blue shirt. It was a bit small, but he considered it lucky. He wore it when he won the school spelling bee in Year 8. He'd grown several inches since then.

Aunt Lola and his cousin Toby were waiting for them outside, both smelling of fresh bread. Aunt Lola and his father owned a bakery together, though Lola and Toby were the ones who lived above it.

Aunt Lola pulled Louise into a hug, and Omar laughed a little as his sister fought against it. Once she escaped, he hugged his aunt.

"Omar!" she gasped, releasing him to hold his shoulders. "You're even taller than the last time I saw you!"

"You saw him last week," Toby said with a laugh. Aunt Lola shook her head.

"I swear, teenagers grow faster than calves."

"Ain't that the truth," his dad laughed, patting Toby on the back.

Together, the family set off for the town square. A few horses were positioned nearby, probably to make the district seem more quaint, and Julieta briefly broke away to pet one. His mom was a horse trainer, and she loved the animals deeply.

Omar loved them too, but he didn't think he wanted to work with them. He didn't want to be a baker either. In fact, he wasn't really sure what he wanted to do when he was older. He loved learning, so maybe he could be a teacher? Mr. Vallejo said he'd be a good one, and he did often tutor kids after school…

All thoughts of teaching left his head as they reached the check-in line. Both his parents hugged him and Louise before they and Lorenzo went to join the other families. Omar waited patiently as the Peacekeeper pricked his finger, mildly surprised that Louise didn't make a scene.

He didn't see his friends Ula or Dena anywhere, but he stayed with Toby until they reached their section. Toby turned 16 a few weeks ago, so he and Omar didn't get to stand together. But he positioned himself where he could still see his cousin.

Arturo Belldam, District 10's escort, took the stage and began the yearly spiel. Omar focused on taking deep breaths instead of listening. Finally, it was time for the tributes to be selected. And Arturo called his name.

Hey everyone! The final CR intro chapter is here! I'm sorry if the writing is a little messy. I struggled with this chapter a bit. No one's fault though, besides mine. Thank you to Max DeLoria for Nero, Willuna for Nailah, and LadyCordeliaStuart for Bess. And I created Omar! That's why I saved District 10 for last. I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter.