Everett Selcouth
District 11 Mentor
Reaping Recaps
Everett's footsteps echo loudly in the train car's dimly lit hallway as he steps out from his bedroom. He lets out a raspy sigh, rolling his light brown eyes, letting his gaze slowly fall onto the two tributes who sit calmly in the dining car. They chat about something he quickly deems useless to him.
He scoffs at the playful tones riveting their voices. Stupid little children. He's been avoiding them all day for a fucking reason, making it blatantly obvous he couldn't care less about them or their deadly futures. They could die right here for all that mattered and that's their problem, not his.
And neither seemed too upset about him not caring, if he is being honest, they really don't seem to mind much. So, Everett should probably just go back into his room, it wouldn't be too bad to just skip the reaping recaps altogether. It's not like they matter much anyway.
"Everett!" chimes the pale pink escort sitting beside the reaped pair. He smiles at Everett, picking lightly at the ruffles on his poofy skirt.
At the mention of his name, both tributes whip around and Everett gets his first look at the two faces he will inevitably watch die. The boy, sitting on the right, has a rather handsome complexion with shining dark eyes, and brown skin that reflects the dining car's glittering stage lights. The girl, sitting to the left, has beautiful, wavy dark hair that flows peacefully around her shoulders and a happy smile that overbears Everett in the worst way.
"Whatever." He says, making his way through the hallway to the dining car, "the reapings are about to start, watch if you want, I don't really give a shit,"
The girl stares at him directly, "Aren't you gonna help us?" she asks, glancing at her partner nervously. It looks like they had already become somewhat of good friends- but god, you never want to get too close to your district partner. Those bitches will turn on you in goddamned an instant.
"You two are probably more capable without me." He responds, rather bluntly.
"Excuse me?" The boy questions.
"Let's just go to the living room, we can discuss this later," whispers the escort, his sandy blonde curls bouncing around his shoulders as he ushers the tributes through the glass door Everett had just entered. The escort glares at him but he just shrugs the dude's stare off.
"I'm Avery, by the way, and are you really going to leave us to fend for ourselves? You're the mentor here, you're supposed to know what to do." The boy says as Everett turns on the giant screen plastered to the entire wall facing the rose gold, plush couch. "Oh, and this is Azalea." He adds tilting his head towards the girl beside him.
Azalea smiles at Avery, then turns to Everett, "are you really going to abandon us like this?"
"Let's just watch the reaping recaps, y'all want to know what you're up against, right?"
As if the television had heard him, the seal of Panem twirls across his vision, lighting up the black screen. Azalea sighs and Avery shakes his head but both slide onto the couch, heads turned to the screen. And for a moment the seal stays there, suspended in the air before Sylinea Sandcreak steps across the background. Her bright pink hair matches the escort's bubblegum dress. Sylinea holds the microphone shakily in her grip, taking a deep breath before looking straight at Everett through the screen.
"Hello Panem," she starts but the microphone pings loudly, causing her to flinch. Sylinea inhales deeply in and keeps going, "welcome all to the reaping of the Three-Hundred and Eleventh Hunger Games!" she squeaks.
The uproar of applause from behind her suggests she's facing a rather large Capital audience but she just smiles her way through her words, "May I present the tributes!" she announces.
Everett is confused, normally they present District One and fly into the typical Careers volunteering or whatnot but then he remembers he isn't supposed to care, so he leans against the couch. Azalea and Avery start with their questions again but he tunes them out, watching the screen as it flashes between photos of the tributes in random order.
They all blur together in Everett's mind, but he does catch a picture of a girl with chestnut hair leaning out of some sort of Capital Hovercraft. A big number six sits calmly in the left-hand corner of her image as she holds out her right hand, reaching out to touch the sunset raging around her wiry frame. She'll probably be a good ally for Miss Question over there, good to keep her in mind.
The second and third images he can pick out slip through the screen in a blink of an eye, carrying remnants of a white-haired girl calmly playing the violin and a tan-skinned, skinny boy painting blue strokes against a pale canvas. A one sits below the girl and a fourteen for the boy, as if they were ranks; not Districts.
The fourth beholds a hooded figure standing on a deserted rooftop, overlooking a burning apartment. Everett is astonished for a moment, why would they show something like that? That's criminal activity… and the Capital shouldn't like that? Everett sighs, "Watch out for that one." He says, pointing at the screen as his eyes scan, landing on the five written at the bottom.
"Good idea," Avery nods.
"Very." Azalea shrugs, nervously twirling a strand of dark hair between her forefinger and thumb.
"They're from Five? I wonder… what if they volunteered?"
"Like a career?" Avery asks.
"Yeah an outliner who trains in secret then volunteers."
"Oh hellfuck, that's only slightly terrifying."
"Isn't it?" Azalea sighs, "the only training I've had before this is berrypicking."
"Hold up, Avery, did you just say hellfuck, what in fucking Panem's sake does that mean?" Everett asks, butting into their conversation.
"Yes, it's something I heard last year, moving on. Azalea my goodness, that's relatable, like I got the fact I can beat someone up, but with a sword or a bow or a spear? I don't know.."
"You both are going to have to figure it out then," Everett sighs, pulling a small pack of cigarettes from his light grey coat pocket. "I'll be back." He says only to be met with another fierce glare from the escort.
"Really Everett, with the tributes here?" he scolds, curls hissing around his ears like venomous snakes.
"I said I'll be right back… I don't even give a shit about your name."
He scowls, "that was rude."
"Does it look like I care? You and both of you," he turns to the tributes, "can all go fuck yourselves."
The escort gets to his feet, smacking his pale hand against Everett's face. "Don't you dare talk to them like that." He puffs out his chest, ready to take him on in an instant.
"Whatever." Everett sighs, one hand holding his face and the other holding the package. He turns away from the group, making his way back to his room.
"Coward!" The escort shouts and all he can do is open oak paneling to his bedroom and step through.
Dylan Morgan
District Four Mentor
Reaping Recaps
Dylan sits back, relaxing on the living room couch. Vivia and Phoenix look at him expectantly, and he sighs. "What do you want to know? I'm here to help you both survive as long as possible."
Vivia nods, thinking slightly to herself but her partner crosses his arms, not satisfied with what Dylan said.
"What weapons are best to use? How exactly do we interact with the other careers? What stations are best to visit during training to seem the most dominant and fearless? What's it like in the arena? How do I use my skills in a way that helps me the most?" Phoenix starts and all the young mentor can do is chuckle.
"Slow your roll, that's a lot of questions." Dylan offers, smiling widely at the new and inquisitive tribute.
"Yes, and?" Phoenix says, oddly anxious.
"You're a career, right?"
"Yeah but-"
"Follow your instincts, that's my best advice to you." Dylan says as he yawns, taking a piece of chewing gum out of his pocket. He pops the gum into his mouth then holds out the container to Vivia. She talks a piece casually, smiling at him as he turns on the screen.
Pictures of each tribute flash on the television but Dylan doesn't pay much attention to them, instead he watches Phoenix. Not awkwardly just taking in his tanned features and dark eyes that look iced over and cold.
"Oh! It's time!" Vivia says, excited but somehow, remaining calm with her smooth persona. The Capital annoncer smiles again, saying something about leading into the reapings like Vivia had said.
The girl from One's call was quiet at first, leaving the escort to scan down into the stoic crowd. After multiple silent seconds, a girl with blonde hair so light it is almost white steps into the aisle, repeating her words, "I volunteer." She walks past her fellow District members, staring directly at the stage with practiced ease. She seems way too unattached to the whole scene but she had the grace of any performer and that slightly scares Dylan for his own tributes. "My name is Asteria, but call me Winter or I'll slit your thoughts." She calls unflinching, staring directly at the camera.
"Alright… Winter, now for the boy!" The escort calls, crossing the stage with her heels click clacking across the podium. "Relo Comins!" She shouts, her chirpy voice carrying across the entire square.
A small boy from the Fifteen-year-old section steps forward, a calm expression plastering itself on his face. He knows someone will take his place, it's just a fact, the question though, is who?
Relo walks all the way to the podium before a terrified look starts to creep onto his features. He gazes back into the crowd, willing someone to raise up from the sad-looking crowd and take his place in the death games.
A dark-haired boy stumbles through the crowd, "I volunteer!" he shouts as an angry look steals his handsome eyes.
The boy starts to the stage itself, stare locked on a girl in the seventeen section with her dirty blonde hair updone in a strategic braid. She rolls her eyes at him and he relaxes a bit, turning the camera with a sweet smile. He steps up onto the podium, waving at the crowd like the career he certainly is.
Then, the camera quickly flashes to a cleaner, shiny podium with an escort decked out in dark blue. She holds her hand above the female bowl, floating for a moment before turning to the excited crowd. The people here are much different than District One, much more enthusiastic about who they're sending into the arena.
"Seolace Kentron!" The escort exclaims into the microphone, quickly folding the cream slip back up and slipping it into her pocket.
"I volunteer!" shouts a girl from the eighteen-year-old section, wasting little time as her dark curls blowing in the gentle breeze. She steps into the aisle, beaming up at the escort as she confidently makes her way up to the stage. The smile on her face seems to upset Phoenix, making him scowl even more at the screen.
"Careers are supposed to be solemn." He mumbles and Dylan can't help but roll his eyes.
"Ya know Phoenix, other people are human," Vivia sighs, "I know, crazy ain't it?" Her sarcasm ringing through the traincar.
"Tone it down short stuff."
"Okay Mr. Pride. What's that? I'll need a ladder, can't hear you down here at normal-people-height," she responds.
"At least a spear isn't the same size as me."
"Makes me stealther, you're just awkward."
"Whatever." Phoenix sighs. "Can we just watch the reap-"
"Harry Starr, and I volunteer!" Shouts a blonde boy, striding from the 18-year-old section. Both Vivia and Phoenix whip back to the screen as Harry steps out onto the walkway, gaining his footing in a confident matter.
"Alright, he could be good, make sure he's in the pack." Dylan says and Vivia nods thoughtfully. "God… Starr that shouldn't sound so familiar- wait holy shit."
"Huh?" Vivia asks.
"His sister… his sister was in the games with my older brother, holy crap."
"Oh? I didn't know you had an older brother who went into the games."
"Yeah, but I was only 12 at the time, I really don't remember him all that much."
"That's awful, I'm sorry," Vivia responds, "I don't have any siblings but it'd be painful to forget them if I did."
"Eh, I have a twin sister and we're a lot closer than I ever was with Kai."
"Can we just watch the reapings! Is that too much to ask of you two?" Phoenix bursts and Vivia turns back to face him. God, I can already tell Phoenix is going to be a handful.
"Alright Mr. Pride." Vivia says, staring at the television as a blonde girl is reaped from Three. She stands there, frozen in shock before the other girls push her out into the exposed walkway. Tears start to drip from Evadne's eyes as she slowly makes her way forward. She tries her best to rid her eyes of the salty mess with the sleeve of her dress. Before giving up and simply jamming her shaking hands into the pockets of her robe, tynic-type ordeal, in a futile attempt to appear braveish.
"She's a bloodbath." Phoenix whispers to himself, nodding slightly as the escort moves on to the male bowl.
"Arobyn Marston!" She squeaks only to receive no answer. No cry out in shock, no 'try and put on a brave face', no stumbling boy.
"Do we have an Arobyn?"
"Oh shit." Someone curses from the back of the crowd and a boy steps out rather confidently. He blinks his blue-green eyes repeatedly as if trying to wake up from a daydream.
His arms start to shake, obviously uncontrollably, as he advances towards the stage. He bites his lip, trying to act as calm as possible. Arobyn gives the blonde girl on the podium a small nod, as if accepting they were both going to die.
Then, suddenly, the screen turns to black fuzzy static.
Phoenix instantly gets to his feet, demanding there be an answer. His features turn from cold to furious, angry at the stupid screen for turning off.
"Sometimes the Capital program glitches, it'll be back in a second." Dylan reassures, smiling at Vivia who seems to be lost in her thoughts. "In the meantime, let's talk about the career pack."
Lesie Ellis
District 6 Mentor
Reaping Recaps
Talyn steps out from his bedroom, still sporting the same light grey jumpsuit he was reaped in. Dark oil stains frame the pockets and the arms and all Lesie can do is chuckle to herself at how goofy he looks. He takes his place in the chair beside Lexus and the pair exchange nervous glances.
Lesie smiles, making her way through the living room and into the third chair the avox had brought them. "I'm sorry," is the only thing she can think to utter, staring at Lexus's terrified grin- or at least what Lesie thinks is a grin. "This is absolutely terrible, neither of you deserve this." She sighs, running a steady hand through the waves of red outlining her pale features.
"Nothing you can do," Talyn says, slipping the small silver badge he'd been holding into his pocket.
"He's right." Lexus nods and Lesie shoots the pair a meek smile, happy they aren't as sulky as her pair last year.
"Now." Lesie starts, "let's get down to business, have you two met each other before?"
"Nope, the name's Talyn Yao- but you can call me Tal, everyone does." The boy says with the enthusiasm of a child, holding out his hand for Lexus to shake.
"That.. that sounds familiar," Lexus responds, taking his hand and giving him a swift handshake. They exchange extroverted smiles and Lesie feels happy that they'll actually get along.
"Yao?" Tal asks.
"Yeah," Lexus puzzles.
"You might know my little sister, her name's Laera. She is about your age, at least I think, you're sixteen right?"
"No way, Laera?" Lesie asks, eyes widening, inserting herself into the conversation.
"Yep, she's got long dark hair and-"
"I know who she is, she was like my best friend forever ago, way before I was reaped" She explains.
"Oh! I remember you Lesie."
"Tal, oh my fucking god, you were like my older brother growing up."
"Yeah!"
"My god Laera and I were so close when we were little, I can't believe her studies came in between us."
"Yeah… she does put studying above a lot but it's not all like that, she's really nice and helps me take care of our younger sister Aeliyah."
"Take care… Did something happen to your parents?" Lexus asks, taking an interest in the conversation once again.
"Yeah…"
"It's alright, same." Lexus responds, "you a mechanic?" she switches the conversation topic with ease and Lesie nods to herself, these two are her favorite pair she's had so far. Which really isn't a lot, having won only two years ago but she doesn't care, she likes these two.
"I am! But I absolutely love the brown slacks you had on earlier, are you a mechanic too?" Tal asks, shoving his hands into his pockets.
"Oh, well, I hated the dress I was wearing at the reaping so I changed into what best resembled my flight suit."
"No fucking way, you fly planes?" He asks, astonished.
"Hovercrafts, and I copilot with my best friend."
"That's actually so freaking cool."
"I know right!" Lexus explains, smiling genuinely for the first time since getting on the train.
"That's absolutely amaz-"
"Welcome back Panem! We're sorry for the technical difficulties, the reaping recaps shall continue!"
"Oh, the reapings are back on," Tal says, moving from his chair to the couch for a better angle at the television.
"District Four now, right?"
"Yeah but god the careers this year look terrifying."
"Don't they? We got some serious competition." Lexus agrees just as a girl with brown hair swiftly and confidently raises her arm high from the fourteen-year-old section, shouting out her name. "Vivia Weston, and I volunteer!"
The crowd in front of the young girl erupts into applause and cheers as another girl sulks off, disappearing into the depths of their section. Vivia walks confidently to the podium, nodding slightly to herself as she keeps her head held high. She stands on the stage, arms crossed with an oddly confident stature for someone as young as her.
The escort smiles, waving to the crowd before crossing to the male reaping bowl. She pulls out a cream-colored strip but before she can shout out the name of the unlucky boy, a voice rises up from the crowd. A boy in a pale green shirt steps forward, "I volunteer!" he shouts, smiling at the camera. It is obvious, he's playing right into the Capital's arms for sponsors which makes him deadly smart, at least for a career. He waves, just like the escort, presenting himself as if he is the only one there.
"Watch out for him," Lesie warns, running a hand through her hair again. Tal nods and Lexus sighs.
"Damn right." She rolls her eyes, "he acts like he's the leader of the career pack already."
"You never know, he might be." Tal suggests as the sea-District slowly fades and is replaced with buildings way too tall for the District Six mentor's liking. Power plants rippled the foggy sky as if the District had ripped apart the bright blue and replaced it with a gloomy grey.
"Panem! The lovely, lucky girl representing District Five in the 311th Hunger Games is… Cenero Sandsmith!"
"I volunteer!" a girl shouts, entering the camera frame in a way too confident manner for an outliner.
"She's not… she's not a career?" Lexus asks, confusion lacing her features.
"I don't think so, fuck, she looks scary though." Tal agrees, eyes wide.
He's right, she does look moderately scary. Her face is concealed with a grey hooded sweatshirt, shielding her features as she stalks to the podium. Her frame short and wiry but she acts like she's not afraid of anything, standing by the escort who freezes for a second before asking, "honey, your name?"
"Clara." She growls, "Saxton."
"Stunning performance, amazing, now for the boys." The escort chirps, her light yellow dress swishing at her ankles as she walks towards the next bowl.
"Soren Sinclair!" she shouts and a guy is almost instantly pushed out from the seventeen-year-old section. He freezes for a slight second before starting to make his way to the podium with an emotionless look stuck to his face. He doesn't panic or lose his cool, eyes simply staring straight ahead.
He looks back and locks eyes with another boy, mouthing something along the lines of, 'no, don't do it'. The other boy takes a small step into the aisle but Soren shoots him a look and he steps back into his section. Soren looks up to the camera, tearing his eyes away from the other boy, smiling at the rest of Panem.
His face quickly fades into a new podium and this one looks familiar. It's metal build almost immediately making Lesie start to tear up. It is the very same stage where the same escort called her name only two years ago, when she was only fourteen years old. Back when she was simply a small and broken child with a charming sense of humor.
Lesie turns away from the screen and watches Lexus punch Tal playfully in the shoulder, "look it's our turn!" she blushes.
"Exciting, oh gosh, I seriously had no idea what I was doing the whole freaking time."
"No one does when they're reaped."
"Fair point, imagine being the boy from Five, in his head just like shit shit shit."
"I mean, I was like shit shit shit, just out loud," Lexus laughs.
"You were really loud, it was kinda funny." Talyn chuckles.
"Oh shut up, I was unprepared."
"Obviously, but it probably didn't sit well with the Capital." Talyn responds, shrugging, "but same with my sister being well, my sister, so I guess we're off to a great start."
"Shush you two, Lexus is walking to the stage," Lesie quiets them both.
"Oh fuck." Lexus blurts as the pair turn back to watch a startled and upset Lexus curse at the escort while holding back tears. She makes it to the podium, still swearing under her breath but bearing a brave face.
"Now for the boys!" the escort calls, her wrinkles highlighting her dark eyes as she crosses the metal stage. She reaches her hand deep into the glass, pulling out a small slip of paper. "Talyn Yao!" she shouts, her voice crushing over the depressing crowd.
The dark-haired boy steps into the aisle, fake and broken smile plastered on his lips for the camera. He slowly makes his way to the podium, unsure of exactly where to place his feet. Everything seems uncertain and tense, before a girl from the crowd shouts out, "Tal! No! Not Tal." She rushes forward, throwing herself at his frame.
"That would be my little sister." Tal nods, smiling at some joke he made inside his head.
The girl's dark hair falls in her face as she clings to Tal's waist. "Please, don't go, you can't die."
"God, she's so sweet," Lexus says.
Talyn looks sadly at her, "yeah."
"I'm sorry about her." Lesie sighs, "hopefully you'll get back to her."
Lexus laughs, "not if I can do anything about it."
"Oh you wish," Talyn laughs, shaking himself from the slump brought on by seeing his little sister. The pair turn back to the screen, staring at Tal and his sister.
"Aeliyah, I have to go," Tal whispers.
"No please, please?"
Peacekeepers advance toward the pair and Tal's eyes go wide. He detaches the girl's hands from his waist, tucking her behind him. "Don't you touch her."
They don't listen to him, grabbing the little girl and dragging her back to the crowd. Tal's eyes get angry but he turns away, advancing towards the stage. He climbs the stairs, taking his place beside the escort and Lexus with a shaky smile capturing his lips.
Tal watches them drag away his little sister and Lesie can tell that right then all Tal wanted to do was run and comfort her. But he doesn't, he stays put which breaks Lesie's heart.
The hunger games have broken apart so many families...
Revena Kyith
District Eight Mentor
Reaping Recaps
"Well, you probably don't want to look to the Six's for alliance, they seem a little... fiery and well, spirited." Revena sighs, looking over at her tributes seated together on the living room couch.
"Oh my goodness, are you just finding everything wrong in everyone? The careers are too careerish, the pair from Three are too weak, Five are too emotionless and Six is too fiery?" Tess rolls her eyes, shooting Wells a side glance.
He slumps even farther into the couch cushion, not wanting to upset her. His black hair and tan skin reflect the likes of Revena herself but they couldn't be more different.
"I'm your mentor, I'm just giving you tips." Revena sighs and Tess shrugs.
"Whatever, let's just get back to the reapings if you're gonna keep giving your 'tips'," Tess rolls her eyes at Revena but turns back to the blaring screen. Beside her frame, Wells just stares forward, not really looking at anything in particular- just lost in his own head. And Revena doesn't blame him, he's still processing the whole thing and that's natural.
When the District Seven's female is called forward, she bares a quite blaringly hideous hunting outfit made of uneven leathers sewn together rather foolishly. She looks to not have seen a bathtub in quite some time, her long hair knotted and her face caked in a solid layer of mud and grime. Her hands look stained as she strugs, as if she didn't even know what she'd just been chosen for. A hatchet is strapped to her back with even more leather and cord, hanging limp as her golden eyes stare straight ahead, utterly emotionless and projected towards the nearby woods.
She reaches the stage and the escort takes a few steps away from Anna. Revena guesses she probably smells horrid. She wouldn't want to stand next to her either.
The escort, clothed in dark green and pink cloak-like robe, hovers their hand over the male bowl. As if there were something behind who's name they'd pull. Finally, they decide on one cream slip and yank it from the glass.
"Blue Hollis!" they shout and no one moves an inch. A young boy is pushed into the aisle, legs freezing as he looks like he just wants to run away from it all.
Blue looks like someone Revena would call a boy with a question mark. Something about his posture or hair or name made her question his pronouns- not quite jumping to conclusions but she had her suspicions. And she's allowed those afterall.
His shoulder-length blonde hair falls loosely around his pale features. Framing warm, brown eyes that looked to behold a kind soul beneath their irises. Blue feels very different from his District Partner, acting like much more of a shier, sweeter person. He reminds her much of the pair from Three- very likely to become dead within the first day.
He wipes his sweaty palms on the front of his plain blue t-shirt, something Revena wouldn't allow her own tributes to do in the slightest. Bad manners are terrible for sponsors, everyone knows that.
Slowly, the boy starts to advance towards the stage, dark eyes pleading for this whole thing to be a dream.
But alas, it's not and soon the television switches to a familiar District. A small wooden podium sits calmly before the camera, harboring an escort decked out in vibrant blue clothing Revena could only describe as extravagant.
"Tessida Wovey!" she shouts, her voice squeaky but loud enough to serenade the whole town square.
Just like Blue, at first no one utters a word. Silence hangs in the air-
"A million things were going through my head at once." Tess says beside Revena, her please-don't-talk-to-me look still plastered on her features but her words beg to differ.
"Oh yeah?"
"Same." Wells nods, still slumped into the couch.
He seems like someone who'd normally have a million things to say but not currently. Now, he plays an introverted thoughtful boy- lost in his own thoughts. Which sends a pang of remorse through Revena's mind, her District partner, Nmiki, was like that.
Eventually, a shorter girl with dark brown curls steps into the aisle. She looks torn, as if debating whether or not to wave or smile or simply just stare emotionless. So she just exhibits a look of confusion as she stalks to the podium.
Her dress matches her very expression, carrying a multitude of neutral colors. Long sleeves cover most of her skin, sweeping gently to just below her knees. Nothing special pops out to Revena and she can't help but feel a little disappointed, the reaping is supposed to leave a good impression on the Capital. A plain and basic dress isn't really going to wow them over.
Tess climbs the stairs to the stage and stands beside the escort, giving the camera a small smile before the escort crosses the stage. She looks way too excited, reaching her hand into the bowl with force that could have thrown muscular Wells across the room.
"Wells Bobbin." She shouts, unfolding a small slip.
This time, unlike the past few reapings, something happened quickly. In a flash a boy was in the aisle... but he wasn't Wells. Something looked different about him, his frame was much skinnier and his nose looked a little crooked to Wells's perfectly straight one. The boy here looked taller than Wells, dressed in dark slacks and a pale orange button-up shirt.
He stands frozen for a moment with his hand raised, watching the boy next to him being pushed from the seventeen section. Wells is thrown into the aisle, but he nods at the first boy who now stands frozen in the aisle. They look almost identical but peacekeepers seize the first boy, pulling him back and pushing Wells forward. Wells's face looks utterly emotionless as he is escorted to the stage, eyes locked on the other boy.
Wells mouths something along the lines of, "No please, don't volunteer, I can do this." And his brother stops struggling against the peacekeepers.
The pair from her beloved District look like sad, desperate kids who didn't know what the fuck had just happened. Of course, Revena gets the two who couldn't blow the Capital away with their reaping. This is why she hate's District Eight. It's forgettable, always seemingly lost in the shuffle and that disappoints Revena a great deal. She was made for the career Districts, or at least a more presentable District like Six or Fourteen.
"Warp…" Wells whispers softly, eyes no longer dull but full of sadness.
"Your brother?" Tess asks, patting him lightly on the shoulder.
"Twin." Wells nods, "I have to go," he says, trying to hold back all emotion from leaking into his speech.
"You want to miss the rest of the reapings?" Revena sighs, "typical, he doesn't even want to plan for alliances, good luck dying."
"Revena!" Tess scolds, "you know what, I have to go to. You're unbearable."
The pair do exactly that and all Revena can do is watch them leave. She sighs to herself, it's not her fault if they ally with the wrong person and die because of it. Neither of them deserve her help in the slightest, so she shouldn't have to give it.
"Your loss." She whispers, turning back to the screen to finish the rest of the reapings by herself.
Anella 'Anne' Finch
District Ten Mentor
Reaping Recaps
"Calista!" Arnau calls from the couch, smiling at the blonde girl seated a small wooden chair in the back living room train car.
She doesn't respond, tilting her head in acknowledgement.
"We're on next!" he says with the enthusiasm of a child, reminding Anne of her own little brother.
"Like I want to relive that again," she mumbles and Anne nods at Arnau.
"She just needs a little space, alright?" she advises and Arnau glances back at her then to the television screen.
"Alright," he nods.
"So, so far the boy from Five and possible Six for possible allies?"
"Yes! I'm so damn excited to actually meet them at the welcome party, they seem like cool people, and I think I could work well with either."
"Exactly! I love your enthusiasm."
"Well, I just know I have things to get home to and being sad and miserable will only downgrade my chances of survival."
"Fair point, alright, let's watch the rest, maybe you can point out some others?"
The two turn back to the screen, watching the scene of District Ten unfold before them. Endless cattle farms and dusty, dirt roads feel way too familiar to Anne. She misses District Ten, having spent most of her time as victor living in the Capital with her little brother, Felix. She loves watching him pursue his dream of being a television reporter, knowing none of it would have been possible had she not won. Had she not impaled the little girl from Seven, Elizabeth, or let Sunna go, or shot Clara...
"Calista Calliope!" she hears the escort shout to the underwhelming crowd, snapping Anne away from her thoughts.
Pretty quickly, Cal steps from her place in the fifteen year old section. She curses wildly under her breath, fiddling nervously with the hemming decorating the edges of her sleeveless dress. A bold expression dots her fingers, quelling with her anxious actions. She makes her way quickly to the stage as if just wanting to get everything over with.
She treads lightly, feet heavy as she takes her stand beside the brightly colored escort with pale pink curls. Cherry blossoms decorate her hair, reflecting her beaming smile as she makes her way over to the male bowl.
Anne casts a glance at Arnau, not exactly sure how he'll take the next scene. It's his deadly fate afterall… but Anne has faith in him. He acts like she had or at least her and Abram- and they both made it pretty far.
"Arnau Armendarez!" She shouts and as expected, no one moves a single muscle. Panic spreads across the entire eighteen-year-old section as a confused looking Arnau is thrown into the aisle. He doesn't move, standing with everyone's eyes locked on his tan frame. Anne can tell his mind races a mile a minute, shock plasters on his face as he's nudged towards the stage by peacekeepers.
His expression looks extremely lost as he takes his place beside the escort on the old, rickety stage. He looks at Cal and for a moment something passes in his eyes; remembrance. But he shakes his head, as if trying to clear it, smiling slightly at the camera.
Then, quickly, the angle flashes and suddenly the camera is pointed at an older stage with apple and plum trees carved in the sides. Orchards stand, tall and lively behind the major as she takes her seat, she looks vaguely familiar but Anne can't quite put her finger on why.
Nonetheless, the escort takes the stage, not wasting any time as he waltzes towards the female reaping bowl.
"Azalea Asterboom!" he calls, facing the camera- not the crowd before him.
A soft, "No!" can be heard, just barely audible as a dark-haired girl slowly slips into the aisle. Her bronze skin shines beautifully against District Eleven's bright, citrus sunlight. Tears start to fall from her rosy cheeks as she walks towards the podium, eyes locked on the escort himself.
A small boy struggles and escapes the fourteen-year-old section, only to be snached up by peacekeepers. Azalea looks sadly at the boy, who is probably her younger brother, nodding softly. She gives him a small smile, drying her tears and waving towards the camera.
She looks way too friendly for these games, she'll have her back stabbed for sure. It always seems to be the gullible ones.
Her lavender dress blows gently in the breeze as climbs the steps towards the escort. Azalea looks like she's about to lose her shit but she's smart, saving the rest of her tears for the goodbyes and not the reapings. The ones who cry at the reapings never make it very far, unfortunately. Maybe she isn't as gullible as Anne originally thought?
"She looks nice Cal?" Arnau suggests, trying to help his district partner gain at least one ally.
"I don't think so, she looks way too happy and upbeat for me." Cal mutters, surprising Anne. She thought Cal wasn't paying any attention to the reapings but she guesses she is wrong.
"That's alright." Arnau sighs, "maybe District Twelve?"
"Maybe." Cal sighs and Anne can already tell Calista does not want to ally in the slightest. And that's her choice to make, not Anne's.
"Dakota Nimani!" He shouts and a small thin boy is pushed from the fifteen-year-old section. He looks much more like thirteen with how short and wiry he is. A bucket of guilt washes over Anne, he's too young and small for these games. He'll be the first one to die, there's no doubt about it and that hits Anne hard.
"I volunteer!" someone shouts and the crowd collectively gasps, surprised.
Anne and Arnau both find themselves holding their breath as a tall, dark-skinned boy steps out from the eighteen-year-old section. He smiles at the camera, nodding at Dakota whose eyes are as wide as boulders.
"Avery, I can't ask you to-"
"Too late, but don't worry Dak, I'll see you soon, don't worry." Avery laughs, his tone cheeky, airing on the side of confident but not cocky like a career.
"Ooh?" Arnau asks, "I mean he's stupid for volunteering for his… friend? He could be a good ally."
"Perfect! He looks really strong so that's always good." Anne nods, watching the screen as it quickly changes to what Anne can guess is District Twelve. It looks even more run-down than she remembers from her victory tour.
Their stage is barely a stage at all, wood rotten and falling apart at the seams. Are people supposed to stand on that? Won't it crash in on itself?
"Oh god." Arnau says, eyes wide.
Anne swallows forcefully, "District Twelve is in terrible shape."
"Can't you help it, like you're a victor? You should at least have a little power in the Capital?"
"Arnau, that's a nice idea but I've tried already. A few years ago, me and some of the other victors- including Maris, went on strike for better living conditions in Twelve. But none of the Capitalities would listen to us.
"Lapis Jademoore!" the escort calls and instantly a tan-skinned girl dips from the sixteen section. Her dark curls frame her features, blowing gently in the breeze. Lapis's jean-like pants match her amber eyes, discolored and seemingly lost.
She freezes for a moment, watching the escort thoughtfully. Realization crashing onto her flesh as she shoots a glance back towards the crowd. Her light eyes scan the people before her, feet locked in place.
Peacekeepers start to advance towards her but she seems to snap out of her trance, quickly drawing a knife from her belt. She points the blade towards the peacekeepers but they don't seem very phased, continuing to advance.
"Don't you dare touch me!" she calls, as they grab her slender, malnourished frame. She struggles to stab the closest one but there are too many and soon her knife has been taken and she's been dragged to the rickety podium. The escort smiles at her but Lapis doesn't notice, eyeing something off camera.
"Kayn Ashran!" the escort chirps, calling the male name from a small slip of dusty paper.
With Lapis's speed, Kayn steps into the aisle from his section. His skin utterly pale, reminding Anne of the moon while reflecting the foggy District Twelve sunlight. His icy blue eyes are breathtaking and oddly sharp, like the edge of a blade. Much of his frame, however, is overtaken with a long black cloak-type thing, hiding everything besides his face. But Anne notices the small scythe just barely sticking out from his pocket and lets out a small gasp, pointing it out to Arnau.
"What is it with District Twelve and weapons? I thought they were supposed to be the weak District?"
"Well, living in a place where everyone's fighting for their lives, the youth of District Twelve have been toughened up a good bit."
"Oh god, both are threats?"
"That's right." Anne nods, causing a stir from the back.
"You alright Cal?" Arnau asks and Cal simply sighs.
"Maybe? Maybe the girl could be a good ally."
"Oh yeah? That's awesome Cal." Anne says, being as supportive as she can, even though she knows Cal won't actually try to ally-
Kayn seems to accept his fate much easier than his District partner, walking to the stage pretty quickly. Or pretty fast for someone with a limp, but even then, Kayn walks as if with a steady purpose. He nods to the camera from the stage, features utterly emotionless.
Quickly, the camera angle changes to a much cleaner, nicer District. Not as nice as the career ones but District Fourteen is newer and this is the first time they've held a reaping in the last ten years. After the war-thing of District Nine, District Fourteen has since signed a treaty where they only have to send kids in every ten years; which is extremely smart.
But what's even smarter is the Savior Program they've created. Basically a career academy, training kids for better supply into the games. That way, they don't have to lose any innocent twelve-year-olds. Instead, older and trained eighteen-year-olds volunteer to take their place. This is the first year they're putting it to the test so Anne can't help but get excited at the idea of seeing what they have to offer.
The crowd before the stage looked smaller and nicer than many of the other Districts but that doesn't seem to cheer up the escort. He looks defeated and broken in his disgusting, mustard yellow suit. He bears a simply miserable expression but he knows what he's supposed to do, crossing the stage and to the female bowl.
"Jada Evander." The escort grumbles and the camera zooms in on a small girl who steps directly into the aisle. She looks terrified but keeps walking towards the stage, eyes locked on a boy in the eighteen-year-old section who looks like he could be her older brother.
"I volunteer!" a blonde-haired older girl shouts, casting a look at the same boy. "Izora Ashran and I volunteer!" she strolls to the stage with a confidence Anne likes to see.
"Watch out for her, and the boy, they will both be like-career grade killers."
"Alright." Arnau nods, agreeing with her.
The girl makes her way to the stage, her grey eyes pinned on the melancholy-looking escort. Her muscular frame makes it to the podium pretty quickly, taking her place beside the escort. She smiles at the camera, shifting her gaze back to the same boy.
"Adrian Yvonne!" the escort calls, folding up a small piece of paper with his name on it.
A blonde boy slowly and cautiously steps out of the seventeen-year-old section. He holds a small slip of paper in his right hand but realizes he's on camera and slides it gracefully into his pocket. He starts to make his way to the podium but his walk is interrupted by a weak cry, "I volunteer."
That same boy, Jada's older brother, steps into the camera angle. He smiles a weak grin to the blonde standing on the podium already. "My name is Edmund Evander and I volunteer." He repeats, making his way to the clean stage.
"There you have it Panem, this years District Fourteen's tributes." The escort grumbles and Anne turns to Arnau.
"There we go, all the other tributes."
He nods, "Boom, the other tributes."
"They're going down though." Anne chuckles, "you both are gonna go great."
"Thanks," Anrau smiles sheepishly, "c'mon let's go get some dinner from the dining car."
A/N: Annnnnd we're back with another chapter! I'm so so sorry that took so dang long… like two months but we're not gonna talk about that LMAOOO. My computer has been legit broken for a solid three weeks now (i've stolen my cousin's laptop to post said chapter) and I've been in and out of the hospital a few different times but damn, enough of my shit, y'all, FIRST PREGAMES CHAPTER LETSGOOOO. This is so dang exciting, I'm so hyped for MZ!
(Little note, there was a check in last chapter and if you reading now and haven't responded yettt, just head over there and check it out- its worth 10 sponsor points.)
Also will y'all sue me if I skip the Chariot rides? It's never anything important (at least for me) and always drags on way too long! I'm probably just gonna pass on it and head to the welcome party, after the train rides ofc, so see ya then! And yeah, that's all I got- as always, have a good day/night/afternoon.
Bye for now,
Marie