Annabel Buff Tenor, 15
District 12

Generally speaking, Buff was getting very tired of being unique. Well, that wasn't quite true. Buff actually loved who they were, and they loved that they had never met anyone quite like them. What Buff didn't particularly care for was how nobody seemed to understand them the way they desperately needed someone to.

"Annabel!" Buff's father called. Buff cringed at the use of their government name and sighed deeply through their nose.

"Yeah?" they called back. No response. Gilligan Grass Tenor was the type of parent to hear a snide comment made under one of his kids' breath from across the house, but couldn't possibly make out what someone was shouting in response to him from the next room. "What, Dad?"

"You almost ready?" he asked. "Concert's in an hour and a half. We need to leave in five minutes if we want to have time to warm up."

"I'll be right out, just give me a second," Buff said. Then, their voice barely at a whisper, they let out a single "Fuck."

Buff regarded themself in the mirror, already bracing for their parents' comments on their outfit of the night. They knew that the rest of their family would be showing up to the venue in adorable pastels and understated earth tones, candy pink lipstick, and bright yellow crowns of freshly picked wildflowers. There was nothing wrong with this aesthetic- in fact, Buff liked it a lot on other people- but they knew that compared to the rest of their family, they would stick out like a sore thumb in their studded leather jacket, combat boots, and jeans literally hanging on by a thread. They smudged a final touch of black eyeliner around their blue eyes, grabbed their electric guitar, and headed out to the living room where the rest of their family was waiting for them.

"Really, Annabel?" their mother asked, an exaggerated troubled sigh on her face. "You know, I'm trying really hard with this whole 'finding yourself' thing, but do you have to look so… you know. It just really doesn't fit with our genre of-"

"Then it's a good thing I'm not playing with you, isn't it?" Buff hated interrupting, but when they could tell that someone was going to be insensitive, they thought it was best for everyone if they stopped it before it happened.

And it was true! Buff wouldn't be performing with the rest of their family. True, they were all headed to the black market together, but they were separate sets. Their parents and brothers would be playing the woodsy, heartfelt folk music that they were known for, but Buff was a different story. Buff's passion lied in rock music. So while their family was getting ready to play the main event, Buff cherished the three songs that they got as the opening act- just them, their voice, and their electric guitar.

"Hey," their father warned. "Lose the attitude, young lady."

"Can you please not call me that?" Buff asked for what felt like the millionth time.

"Right," Gilligan said, rolling his eyes and shaking his head. "I forgot, I can't even call my daughter my daughter."

Buff had gotten used to the constant misgendering by their family, but just because it happened often didn't mean it didn't still hurt. It was still a wound. At first, hearing words like "she," "daughter," or "sister" felt like a sharp stabbing in the side; sharp, but quick. Definitely painful, but usually over as soon as it began. But these days, it felt more like a 300 pound weight pressed against their chest. They'd struggle for a while to get it off, only to find that once it was off, they could still feel the pressure.

They had come out as genderqueer about two years ago, first to their cousin and best friends, then to their parents and brothers shortly after. Their brothers were fine with it, and their friends were more than supportive, but their parents were a different story, especially their dad.

It was clear that their mother was trying to understand. She just got confused sometimes, saying that it was the "screaming music" that made Buff the way that they were. Their mother also mourned the loss of what she viewed to be her only daughter; her only opportunity for a mini-me that she could dress up, slather makeup on, and teach to be a little lady.

Their father, however, was dismissive at best. He seemed to think that gender identities outside of male and female were simply something that Buff had made up, and couldn't wrap his mind around why anyone would feel uncomfortable with the sex that they were assigned at birth. In his mind, if he had never experienced it, it did not exist.

It had been two years of living with the fact that, despite saying that they loved and supported them, Buff's parents did not respect their identity, and would rather their child be uncomfortable than accept that anything had changed.

Upon the family's arrival to the Hob, they were greeted by Buff's aunt Bonnie Sage, setting up a stand with bottles of liquor and juice for anyone who had come to see the show. Drinks were an absolute necessity; shows were most popular in late June, and District 12 was humid and stuffy in the early summer. Bonnie Sage was one of the only members of the family who didn't play music with the others, and was coincidentally one of Buff's favorite grownups. She was her father's identical twin, and Buff often wondered how two people who were related so closely could be so different. Bonnie Sage, along with her sister, Donica Jade, were the only adults in Buff's life that weren't stuffy, traditional, and closed-minded, and the two of them were always the people that would take Buff shopping for new clothes, or let them stay at their house when things got bad at home. Sometimes, Buff wished that one of their aunts was their mother instead. Probably Bonnie Sage. She was the stable one.

"Took y'all long enough," Bonnie Sage said with a grin, polishing a nonexistent smudge with a rag. "You go on in an hour!"

"Yeah, well someone decided to take all evening to get ready," Buff's dad said, cocking his head in their direction.

"Aw, now I don't believe that for a second,"their aunt said. "Is your dad tellin' lies again, Buff?"

"It's like you were there!" Buff said, eating up all the attention. "Hey, is Aunt Donica coming tonight? I have a new song I want to play for her."

"No…" Bonnie Sage hesitated. "No, she's got some stuff she has to do before next week. You know…"

Right. The Reaping. Donica Jade was such a relaxed person, Buff and the rest of the family found themselves forgetting that once upon a time, she was a Hunger Games Victor; the 84th Hunger Games, to be exact. In fact, if it wasn't for the house in Victors' Village, it might be easy to forget about it all together. If Donica held any trauma from it, she didn't project it on the outside at all.

It was like all of the air was sucked out of the room, and no one had even mentioned the Hunger Games outright. It was a difficult topic for all of District 12, but especially for the Tenor family. Buff, two of their four brothers, and their cousin were all eligible to be Reaped, and next year, one more brother would turn twelve. Buff's oldest brother Hank had made it through all seven years without being Reaped, but it was hard not to be on edge with so many kids, especially considering the fact that Donica was chosen from even fewer kids.

Buff tried to put the thought of the next week out of their head as they took the stage. The crowd was silent as they warmed them up with their guitar, then screamed, clapped, and cheered as Buff sang about heartbreak and rebelling against authority in their signature gravelly voice. While their family may not accept them for who they were, in those precious moments on stage, they were heard. Buff only wished they could stay in that moment forever.


Bramble Hawthorne, 18
District 12

Bramble dreaded waking up each morning, because every day was just another reminder that he would never be enough. Being constantly compared to a dead girl from decades ago was exhausting, and it was something he wouldn't wish on his worst enemy.

The thing about trying to live up to someone who's dead was that it wasn't possible. Once someone's friend, family, significant other, or anything in between died, there was no more criticising them, and if someone tried, it was speaking ill of the dead and would not be tolerated. It didn't matter if it was a real observation, a vague rant about how he wanted to be his own person, or even if it was just a harmless joke. Any such comment made around his father was met with a lecture, a stern look, and even once a hard slap across the face, after which he immediately took a walk to "clear his head" and never really apologized for.

If Bramble had one wish, it would be to never hear the name Katniss Everdeen again.

Sometimes, Bramble thought he was haunted- haunted by a past that he really had no connection to, and never would. He often found himself wondering if one little thing years ago had been different, how would his life be different now? If Little Miss Mockingjay Pin's little sister had never been Reaped, then she never would have volunteered. She never would have fallen for Bread Boy, and she probably would have married Bramble's dad.

Bramble never would have been born.

Ruth would still be around, though. Ruth Mellark, the daughter of the baker, the love of Bramble's life, would still be alive in a universe where Bramble himself had never even been thought of. She would still be around, maybe with a different man, or a different group of friends. Would she still act the same? Would she still have the same shiny blonde hair and rosy pink cheeks? He couldn't stand the idea of her without him, even in a hypothetical alternate world. In his mind, Ruth was meant for him. Ruth was meant to hold his hand, to go on picnics with him, jog around the District with him, and spend the rest of her life with him.

Ruth Mellark was the only person who understood Bramble. She was the only person in District 12 who understood what he felt about being compared to a dead person from their parents' past. For Bramble, it was his father's childhood best friend, Katniss. For Ruth, it was her father's brother, Peeta. But what really drew them together was the fact that both Peeta and Katniss died in the same year of the Hunger Games, just hours apart.

Bramble's favorite time of the year to spend with Ruth was the summer. While the sun sent golden rays over the District, Bramble could go hunting in the woods by the Seam and count on Ruth to have fresh bread baked when he got back. Once the meat was cleaned and cooked, they could have a picnic in the sun-warmed grass in the meadow.

On July 3rd, the day before the Reaping for the 100th Hunger Games, Bramble and Ruth were cherishing the time before the last Reaping either of them would be eligible for by doing just that. The two had spent a solid hour doing nothing but laying on their backs on a tattered old quilt of the Mellarks and watching the clouds as they passed over the meadow and changed shape. Ruth loved cloud gazing.

"Are you nervous?" Ruth asked, not taking her beautiful blue eyes off of the sky. "For tomorrow?"

"No," Bramble said, rolling over onto his side and resting his head on Ruth's chest. He closed his eyes as she raked her fingers through his hair. "I don't know, there's just something in my mind telling me that it's not going to be me. It's weird."

"Someone's awfully confident," Ruth mocked, pausing to kiss him on the top of his head. He grinned. "But you're right. I feel like if one of us was going to be Reaped, it would have happened by now. We just have to get through this last year."

"Exactly," Bramble said, lacing his fingers through Ruth's. "And once we're both safe…"

"We can get married."

"Move in together."

"No kids, though."

"Absolutely not."

Children were a bit of a sad spot for Bramble and Ruth. They both loved them, but thought that it was selfish and irresponsible of people to willingly bring children into a world where they might have to fight to the death. Hunger Games aside, Panem was no place for children, especially District 12. People died in the street every day, their stomachs empty of all food and their lungs full of coal dust. What kind of person would willingly bring a child into that world? How selfish could you be?

Bramble was initially shocked that Ruth felt the same way about having kids as he did. She was known, even mocked for her femininity, and at first, Bramble thought that if anyone were to be a mother someday, it would be her. With her soft-spoken nature, the ribbons in her hair, and the way she kneaded bread gently but firmly, he would have thought that maternal instincts would be second nature to her.

Maybe in another life, Bramble and Ruth could be together without any worry. No worry that any kids they might have could be forced into a death match at any time. No worry that their families secretly held decades-old animosity towards each other. No, they could live in a pretty house and raise all the kids they wanted. They could be a happy family and know that they would have each other forever.

Maybe in another life. But not in District 12.


Donica Jade Tenor, 33
Victor of the 84th Hunger Games: District 12

All her life, Donica had felt like an outsider. It was one thing to be abandoned by your birth parents, but to be taken in by a huge family that you had nothing in common with was a whole separate can of worms. How was she supposed to keep up with her family when little kids could play multiple instruments (sometimes at the same time) and she couldn't even carry a tune? Growing up, Donica would always go to her siblings' shows, but whenever she would try to join in, she was given that painful "it's a good thing you're pretty" look.

Donica Jade had to get used to never being the center of attention quickly. She went the first seventeen years of her life staying in the background, and letting others have the spotlight. Her adopted sister Bonnie was the funny one, her brother Gilligan the talented one, and as for Donica? Donica was just there. No special talents that the rest of her family had, because she was never a part of the bloodline that carried it on.

Donica Jade Tenor spent the first seventeen years of her life being absolutely ordinary. But one summer day when she was 17 years old, everything changed. She was Reaped for the 84th Hunger Games, and by some strange miracle, she made it out on top. She didn't have a crazy story- she had a few loyal sponsors, she managed to snag a backpack and a slingshot at the bloodbath, and she made three kills total. Like most outer District Victors, she mostly tried to pretend that it never happened.

This was a bit difficult to do considering the fact that Donica was the only living female Victor from District 12, as well as one of just three Victors ever from District 12, and had been since she won her Games. With only her and Haymitch on mentoring duties, there was no getting out of it. Despite this, it never got easier for her to bring home a Victor to replace her. Donica winning the Games was a fluke, and when it came to mentoring, she transitioned back into what she always was- ordinary.

Donica was trying to be hopeful for the 100th Hunger Games, but something kept her feeling down, even though it was supposed to be a special year. She felt uneasy as she sat on the stage, waiting for District 12's tributes to be chosen. District 12 was pretty traditional, and they always chose the name from the female bowl first. It took Donica a moment to register it when Buff was chosen since the escort called them Annabel, but once she realized what had happened, she knew that if there was ever a year to bring home a Victor, this would be it. She supposed a male tribute was called up next, but she couldn't make out a single detail about him, so she hoped that Haymitch was paying more attention than she was. All she could think about was how badly she needed to make sure that her brother's child made it home alive.


And that's a wrap on intros (finally)! College is hard. Thanks to ladyqueerfoot for Buff and mistywords for Bramble! There's a poll up on my profile where you can vote on your favorite characters so far! Go do it!

1. Who did you like better, Buff or Bramble?

2. What did you like about them?

3. What didn't you like about them?

4. Thoughts on Donica Jade?

5. Any predictions?