Tribute Intros Part II
Opal, Sebastian, Malachi, Whisper
Opal Granite, 14
District One
Opal and her friends always walked past Victors' Village on their way to the reaping. It had been a tradition even before they'd been old enough to actually participate in the reaping. Well, 'participating' was a bit of a stretch. Sure, they cheered and clapped along with the rest of the crowd, but all the excitement, all the glory, rested with those who actually volunteered.
Still, tradition was tradition, and occasionally they would catch a glimpse of one of the Victors as they passed. Opal led the way, grinning. "I wonder where everyone is. It's almost time for the reaping."
"Maybe they're already there," Ruby suggested.
"Maybe they're just waiting," Pearl offered.
Jade chuckled. "Maybe they're scared. Worried no one will volunteer."
"Well, if they don't, I will." The words left Opal's mouth before she realized what she was saying. That seemed to be happening more and more recently. It was what her friends would want to hear. They liked the smart, confident girl they thought they knew. And she wanted to make them happy. She wanted to be their friend.
Pearl stared. "You? But you're only fourteen."
Opal shrugged. "Same as you."
Jade shook her head. "Yeah, but she didn't say she would volunteer for the Hunger Games. Have you even been training?"
"Of course!" Opal lied. Well, not exactly a lie. Every so often, she and a friend or two would wander into the training center, and she would try to impress them. It wasn't hard. All you had to do was pretend you knew what you were doing, and no one would question it. Well, no one who also didn't know what they were doing…
"I think that'd be amazing!" Ruby beamed. "Just imagine being friends with a Victor!"
Opal nodded along. She hadn't meant it. Or maybe part of her had. After all, if she was a Victor, everyone would like her. The real her. She wouldn't have to pretend to be someone she wasn't in order to get the other girls to be friends with her. That had to be worth the risk, didn't it?
Besides, it wasn't as if she would have to go through with it. Someone would volunteer. They always did. And then she could always say that she would have volunteered, but someone else beat her to it. Yes. Yes, that was it. There was nothing to worry about.
Sebastian Banks, 18
District Four
It looked like he wasn't the only one who'd decided to try to fit in a little time at the beach before the reaping. Sebastian grinned as he swam towards the boat in the distance. It wasn't a very fast boat; he could definitely catch up to it, give whoever was on it a bit of a start, and make it back in time for the reaping.
Well, probably. He wasn't sure exactly what time it was, but he'd always been a pretty fast swimmer. And ever since his father, the former mayor of Four, had gotten him a personal instructor, he'd gotten even better.
It had been his father's idea to train for the Games. He said he wanted Sebastian to make something of himself, but Sebastian had always suspected he simply wanted a way to make his name mean something again, now that he'd retired.
In any case, he wasn't too fond of the idea of dying, but he'd agreed to volunteer on one condition – that his father find him a 'mermaid instructor.' Someone who would focus on the water-based skills he would need, because that was what he liked. His father had found one, so he'd agreed to train. That had been years ago, after all, and the idea of volunteering had seemed so far away. But now it was time to hold up his end of the bargain.
Sebastian dove beneath the water as he got closer to the tiny boat. Just a little farther, and he could surface right beside it, just like a mermaid. Just a little farther—
"Whatcha doing?" Sebastian called as he sprang out of the water and grabbed hold of the side of the boat.
There was a scream. Something flew past his head. "Corin, you could have hit him!" one of the girls on the boat squealed.
The other girl – apparently Corin – blushed. "Sorry. You startled me."
Sebastian plucked the spear out of the water. "No harm done. How about a ride back to the reaping to make up for it?"
The other girl hastily turned the boat around. "Think we'll still make it back in time?"
Sebastian grinned. "I hope so. I'm supposed to volunteer."
Corin cocked her head curiously. "Supposed to?"
Sebastian shrugged. "My dad wants me to."
"What do you want?"
Sebastian waved an arm expansively at the sea. "This. I'd love to just be out here and do this all day. But once I win, I'll be able to do that."
Corin nodded, satisfied. "See, Lyla, I told you there would still be volunteers. We'll be fine."
Sebastian said nothing. He hadn't thought about that, really – that him volunteering meant that someone else wouldn't have to worry about going into the Games. Not that it changed anything about what he was going to do, but it was a nice thought. He smiled at Corin. "Exactly. I'm sure you have nothing to worry about."
Malachi Thorne, 18
District Nine
"Sorry to bother you with this on reaping day," Cody apologized as Malachi examined the grain sorter. "But the damn thing just won't start, and you know how the Peacekeepers will be on my back if we're under quota."
Malachi waved a hand dismissively. "No trouble, really." It wasn't as if he had to do anything to get ready for the reaping. All things considered, he'd rather be here tinkering with the machines than at home helping his six younger siblings pick out their clothes and fix their hair and make themselves look perfect just in case they got reaped. As if any of that would really help if they were picked for the Games. Malachi pried off a panel. "Just let me get in here and— oh."
Someone had already tried to fix it. Well, not exactly. Someone had tried to jury-rig everything together instead of going through the trouble of actually trying to fix it properly. Malachi sighed. Of course. Why bother with actually fixing the problem when you could patch a little here and there and it would work just fine?
Until it didn't.
"Can you fix it?" Cody asked, a bit sheepishly.
A few years ago, Malachi would have been annoyed by the request. He would have given Cody an earful about how he should have just fixed it at the first sign of trouble rather than putting it off until it simply didn't work. Then he would have sighed dramatically and hemmed and hawed about what a bother it was the entire time. It would have felt good to let off some steam, but…
But there were more important things than being right. Or at least, there were things that were more important than everyone else knowing you were right. He knew what should have been done, and he knew how to fix it. That was good enough.
Malachi reached for his toolbox. "I'll have it done before the reaping."
"You don't have to—"
"I'll have it done by then. Just in case." He didn't want to think about it anymore than anyone else did, but there was always the chance that he might not get to finish it later. Between the fact that he was eighteen, and every year he'd taken tesserae for himself and every member of his family, his name was in the reaping bowl seventy times. Sure, there were others who were just as unfortunate, but that was still a lot. Better to get the job done now; at least that way, he knew it would be done right. And that was what really mattered.
Whisper Collins, 16
District Ten
It was so peaceful out, Whisper thought, you would never guess what was about to happen. From the sun peeking out from behind the clouds, from the wind whistling through the small grove of trees in the distance, from the chirping of the birds in the nearby bushes, you would never know that two kids were about to be sent to their deaths.
Well, probable deaths, at least. District Ten had three Victors, after all – Hector Barzona, Trenton Fallow, and Inastasia Aveneura. Still, three Victors in forty-one years … well, maybe it was about average, but those still weren't great odds. Both he and his cousin Jolie were fortunate enough not to have to take tesserae, so their names were only in the bowl five times each, but that still felt like too many. One would be too many. There was always a chance…
Whisper shook his head, humming a little to himself as he stared out at the fields. Just open land as far as the eye could see. He'd gotten pretty good at knowing where to go to avoid the animals. That was why he had moved into town with his aunt and uncle after his father had been killed, mauled to death by one of his own bulls. His mother had stayed on the ranch, which had been in her family for generations, but she had been the one to suggest that he stay with his aunt and uncle until he could handle coming back.
That was almost five years ago.
It wasn't that he didn't want to live with his mother. It was just that he was terrified of the bulls, and … well, it was pretty hard to live on a ranch if you didn't want to be around bulls. Of course, town wasn't perfect, either. It was loud. It was sometimes crowded – especially during the reaping, which was why he was still out here. He would be there in time for the reaping, of course, but that didn't mean he had to be early. He could wait until he'd be sure to get a spot somewhere near the edge of the crowd, where he could get away as soon as the reaping was over.
Suddenly, he could hear voices cutting through the peaceful, natural sounds of the morning. A group of men was headed towards town from one of the small patches of forest in the distance, dragging someone along. Whisper ducked behind the bushes as they got closer. He could hear angry voices – and one higher, confused voice. "Where are you taking me? Let me go! I didn't do anything to you!"
Whisper waited until their voices had faded into the distance, then slowly got to his feet and headed back towards town. Whatever was going on, it wasn't any of his business. He just hoped they wouldn't be too rough with her, whoever she was.
