XIII. Injustice

You don't know about me
You don't know how hard I try
You don't know about me
Why the hell should you decide?
You don't know about everything going on inside
You don't know about me

Fennella Farro. 17.
District Nine Female.

She's been on the run for nearly a year now, wind sweeping her braids as they clatter against her back like the sound of horses trotting against dirt. Fennella's not got a clue where she's going, but then again, she never has. At least not as of late. All she knows is that wherever she goes, it's got to be far away from where she previously was.

Around midday, her friend Karim stops her in her tracks and brushes the dirt off his knees, "You know… I've realized something."

A few months into her trek, she met the guy and ever since they've been thick as thieves, always relying on one another for anything from food to entertainment or even just somebody to pass time with since well… it gets boring being alone. He's a good fellow too, even learned how to braid Fenn's hair the same way her mother did before she had to run away.

"That's never a good thing," She teases him, her brow raised, "Go on?"

"It's just that," He stalls for a moment, and Fenn can't tell if he's about to tell a joke or say something honest, "I'm really fucking hungry."

That's far of him to say, it's been a while since she ran into her sister Anona who usually gives her food, and lord she could really go for a nice loaf of sourdough bread right about now. And then some warm butter and maybe a sprinkle of cinnamon and… Fenn's hungry just thinking about it, shit.

"Aren't you always?" Not that she can judge him really since she feels the exact same. That's not exactly revolutionary though, by any means. In fact, it would be pretty odd if Fenn wasn't permanently hungry. Especially when, she really shouldn't be hungry. Her family's not rich by any means, but they're well off enough that struggling for food is something Fenn should have never known.

"I'm sure we'll see Anona soon," She continues, because again it has been a while and the town's they've been strolling in are starting to look familiar again, not that Nine is known for having architectural variance. Every settlement's basically the same, houses made of birch wood and stone with slightly elevated roofs, farmland as wide as the eye could see and a few shops here and there, connected by cobblestone paths. It's gotten boring, seeing the same thing again and again, but it's safer than being back in Chitona where her family resides.

Fenn knows that the moment she steps foot in Chitona which just so happens to be Nine's capital, she'll be dead on sight. And what's worse about it, is that she'd die guilty of a crime she neither committed nor had any intention to commit. She was, and still should be destined for great things, it's just a shame the winds propelling her future decided to turn southwards so quickly. Her grades in school were the best they could be, and her teachers would oft' brag that she's a "pleasure to have in class," or that she's one of the most enthusiastic students they've ever met.

Maybe it got to her head more than it should have, but Fenn was so convinced that a monotonous life as a farmer wasn't in the cards for her. Funny, because now she'd do anything to live a future picking corn and wheat and sending it across the country. Funny how things never change for the better, and that's why she should've never gotten her hopes up that they would, especially in Nine of all places. Karim and her always joke that their home District is "where dreams go to die," but that would imply people in Nine had any choice in being born there, and that they should have dreams in the first place.

Really, Fenn was foolish for thinking that when she saw an advertisement in the newspaper regarding how Mayor Triticale was looking for a new secretary. She should've run for the hills— er fields then, or at least not bother applying. Then again, she didn't think that she of all people would be worthy of being hired for such a prestigious title.

Yet she was, and that was enough to give her hope, hope that the world had good in it after all, and maybe all her teachers were right when they said she had potential. Her time in the Justice Building learning how the government worked formed some of her greatest memories, they just were now gone to waste. Whenever she thinks of the place, Fenn can't help but grunt, because her dreams are dead because of it.

She remembers the look of horror she had on her face the morning where she read in the paper, "Mayor Triticale Poisoned to Death," and a photo of his body passed out on the ground. Obviously, she was just as curious as the next person as to who could've done such a thing, but as she peered deeper into the article, she found people pointing fingers at her of all people.

Fennella Farro was next door to the mayor's office the day before he died!

Fennella Farro grew up on a farm, she must know a thing or two about poisons!

Fennella Farro's the snake who killed him; we should've never hired her in the first place!

Fennella Farro's a monster!

And all for something she never did. It was safe to say she was horrified that day, as her parents locked her in her room to question her, asking if she really did kill him. They didn't think she did, because why would she? That's the question the public never asked, why a nearly seventeen-year-old girl who's just been blessed with the opportunity of a lifetime would ruin it all in the most deadly of ways. But Nine's a hive mind that believes the first explanation they hear about anything, and maybe it did make a bit of sense why they'd think Fenn did it. But still— she had no reason to.

The name she'd tried so hard to make known was tarnished in an instant, testimony from her teachers saying that because she was always too smart for their classes, they should have realized that she was dangerous enough to do a thing like killing the mayor. And that bugged Fenn even more, the people who'd always believed in her and sheltered her in unwavering support were suddenly dragging her in the mud like she was nothing to them.

It's never "innocent until proven guilty," in Nine, just "guilty unless you make a run for it," and it's because of that that Fenn kissed her parents on the cheek one night and told them that if she wanted to survive, she couldn't live with them any more. She'd endangered herself by taking the job, even if she didn't know it, and she couldn't plague her family with that same guilt. It just wasn't in her blood.

Fenn hasn't seen them since that day she left, and while her semi-regular visits with Anona are nice enough, they'll never substitute the wonderful life that she could have had if it wasn't thrown away without her consent.

Karim sighs, "You always say that Fenn, that we'll see Anona soon, but it's been three weeks and we've ran out of everything she gave us."

Somehow, she feels guilty relying on her sister for food, even if she always says it's her pleasure to provide for her. It's just… such a hassle for her, Fenn's sure of it. Even when she returns to the village where she typically meets with her sister, she has to fight the urges to just tell her not to come the next time. Because lord forbid somebody see her helping somebody as supposedly heinous as Fenn, it would lead to the two of them being dead on sight, and her parents have all but lost one daughter, the last thing they need is to lose another.

"Well," Fenn folds her arms and smirks, "It's not like I can just telepathically communicate with her and beg her for food. If I could, I would trust me." She would but she would still feel bad about being a hassle even if it were by means of telepathy, "Maybe it's about time we learn to find our own food, go hunting or something?"

"Right because if we kill an animal, we totally have somewhere to cook it that wouldn't involve setting a fire that would lead Peacekeepers to finding us," Karim makes a fair point, and now that she's thinking of it, it is pretty odd that she hasn't been caught yet. She hardly entered the public eye during her first few months on the run, so maybe they've given up hope on ever finding her? Doesn't change the fact that if they did find her, they'd capture and kill her immediately.

"True, true," She nods her head up and down, "Well… we could grow a farm or something?"

"And finally be able to eat sufficiently two months from now?" Again, he was correct, "Look, that's probably a good end goal for us, but for now we need to focus on getting as much food in as little time as possible."

Karim's always been better at living off the land than Fenn has, but that's probably because he's been doing it for at least three years now, running away from his childhood home of abuse and despair. She tries her best to think logically, but she'll get carried away at times and forget some of the tinier steps towards any given goal, but at least she has him to clear her mind and put her on the right path towards achieving her goals.

It's just that, she feels guilty at times even though she has no reason to, she feels like she's a burden after all the struggles she's cursed her family with, and it clouds her mind at times. But she's trying her best to be more cognizant in making better choices. It's the best she can offer, and though she doesn't know what she did to deserve somebody as resourceful as Karim looking out for her, Fenn's dedicated to ensuring that in a few years, all the pain they felt in the past will be long gone and they'll be able to be independent.

"I'm sorry, you're so right," Fenn looks him in the eyes, "I just feel bad using my sister for food, you know?"

His reply is gentle, like he usually is whenever he speaks to her, "Don't feel bad, Fenn. She's a free resource, and she wants to do what's best to protect us. Would you rather starve without her or thrive because of her?"

"Thrive because of her," She says without a shadow of a doubt in her mind, "No matter how bad I feel, I'd feel worse if I was dead."

Ugh, she's foolish for even thinking of not using her sister's help. Especially when it's allowing Karim to live the same way it's helping her. She shouldn't have brought up the fact she feels bad using her food, it's just going to lead to her being dead in a ditch because she starved. And that's not much better than dying of a gunshot wound to the head now is it?

Fenn just wishes that she'd moved with the world instead of spinning against it. She hopes and prays for a return to normalcy even if it's the furthest thing from possible, especially when her brain won't allow her to trust anybody but Karim and her family. And most of all, she's so terribly worried. Because yes, she hasn't been caught now, but that could always change. In just a few weeks she'll have to go into Chitona for the Reaping ceremony, and then everybody'll know that she's still alive. So either they'll kill her on instant then or— it begins to make sense.

If Nine can't get justice by killing Fennella Farro themselves, they'll make her serve her penance in the arena for the whole country to see.

I don't give a fuck about your bad intentions
I've got the feels
I'm on another level, no inhibitions
I've got the feels
I don't give a fuck about your bad intentions
I've got the feels, got the feels, got the feels

Lethia Aphelion. 18.
District One Female.
TW: Reference to terminal illness

Ignatius Monroe's Third Concerto in C minor… easy enough. With her mahogany-wood violin in hand, Lethia's somehow nervous for the recital despite the fact she's practiced long and hard.

She's worried, because if she didn't practice enough well… she won't succeed. It's pretty easy for Lethia to remember times were she didn't do just that… succeed… well at least I was pretty successful when— never mind. The point is, as of late— which is what's important— Lethia Aphelion's grown paranoid that if she doesn't work hard enough, she'll fall face first on the ground.

Tonight's no different.

Sure, it's her last violin showcase before the Games, but Panem-willing, it's not her last showcase overall, she prays she'll be back to One's stage eventually, but it very well could be her last showcase with him…

Icarus St. Augustine, he's not really her best friend but he's given her enough over the years that she feels slightly indebted to him is standing besides her. She asks him, "You ready?"

He bites his lip, he's always been cocky, and typically he's in the right, "When haven't I been?"

If only she knew how quickly her life would change in the next five minutes…

Icarus leans back against the wall next to the stage with a somewhat wicked look on his face. At the time, she chooses to ignore it, he's always looked like a bit of a cheeky bastard, "Lethia?"

She turns over to him immediately, looking at his freshly pressed white suit, probably something he got in an attempt to one-up her, not that it's working based on her own dress, "Yes?"

"Come closer," He gestures and he notices his eyes tracing her right hand, probably just looking at her violin. She did get it re-surfaced recently, figured it would be good to show off right before volunteer selection. One did always favor the more showoffish of kids, which is why Icarus (and now her) had been doing so well as of late, "I want to see your nails?"

Right away, Lethia wonders why the hell he of all people cares what her nails look like, but they shine an elegant silver from the lights of the stage peaking in through the curtains, and they're rather noticeable, "They're a new color!"

Icarus holds her index finger in her hand, and despite every muscle in her body resisting it, it's not very hard to… crack!

"What are you doing?" Lethia says, her teeth gritted as she tries to pull herself together, because in all honesty, she can't believe this is happening. She can already feel her hand swelling as tears form in her eyes, tears she tries to wipe away with her right hand but can't because again, crack… and this time it's her pinky, and it's louder than the previous finger, hurts just as much if not more. She looks up at Icarus and his eyes don't move, his face doesn't change and she finds that she recognizes his coldness. It's the same way her mother looked when she… never mind.

She feels the weight of the world crumbling down on her, and she tries to say something, anything, yet… crack… crack… crack… and she feels her palm itself shatter when she presses it against the wall with a …crack… crack… and then he lets go.

Icarus let's go and she swears a sneer escapes his lips as she tries to make sense of everything that's happened. Just five minutes ago… everything was just about perfect for Lethia, and now her hand's wrapped and shattered just like her dreams very well could be. As she chokes on her tears, she mutters a series of, "I should've known betters" and "Fuck you's," in his direction, yet they go unnoticed.

He walks, no prances on to the stage that cheers upon his entry, and she can't help but think they never wanted to see her in the first place. Why would they? Lethia's always been his second-in-command, and she's a fool to ever even think she could be close to his equal. It's just… that after all this time, and after all these tricks of him that she's learned, she thought, Maybe I'm just as good as him. Maybe I've got the potential to win the Games after all instead of just living in his shadow. She thought wrong, and as much as she loves winning, she should've known that this is Icarus' game and she's bound to be his runner-up.

Lethia arrives home that night to her father Vicente laying in bed, still conscious enough to ask his daughter, "Why're you home early?"

She doesn't want to worry him, especially when he's going through enough already, but he's going to find out what happened eventually, so she lifts up her right hand, bandaged together (and poorly so) by toilet paper she got from the restroom, "I had an accident, and I couldn't perform."

Vicente gasps when he sees the injury, obviously something bad enough it can't be fixed by half a roll of toilet paper, and the burning sensation's still rushing in her veins, "What happened?"

As much as she wants to tell him everything, how Icarus was the one who crushed her hand and her heart for the sake of his own success, there's something telling Lethia that she can't. It'll just get him into trouble and create a whole mess, which isn't what One needs after everything it's been through in the past year. That and… it would just prove that she's just as bad as him. As much as she wants to tear him down, there's a little voice in her head telling her that coming out on top of him will feel all the more better than making him suffer the same way he is.

And maybe she should've just told him, it certainly would have made everything easier for her. Vicente would say something like, "I never trusted that boy," and probably call Vallhalla to complain about him, much to Lethia's disapproval. And then it could have been done for, Icarus would be in the storm drain and while she wouldn't be better off than him, at least she wouldn't have to see him succeed. But still, she looks at the hurt in Vicente's eyes and she begins to wonder how much time he has left… she can't not try to volunteer, if not for her own sake, then for his.

"I fell," She deadpans, trying to sound more honest than she is, "My hand broke my fall, thank the lord, but it also… yeah broke itself."

He looks more concerned than he should be, especially since he's not concerned for himself but for Lethia, the girl who's sacrificed so much to ensure he can survive his disease. The girl who can't give up now. While she has no clue where her mother is, Lethia knows she'd be just as disappointed if she saw her daughter admitting defeat to a white blonde boy with a name as dumb and pretentious as Icarus.

She runs to the Vallhalla medic's office the very next morning, her hand still swelling in pain, and she's grown a bit worried that it's not going to heal properly. But at least she's trying to get help now. Adora, the medic, as expected says she's shocked to see that Lethia didn't play in the previous night's concert and she feels horrible that she fell, but it's what she says next that really causes her blood to boil.

"You know, your friend Icarus was so cordial about the whole thing last night. He really seemed sorry for you, and said over and over again how he wishes you could've played with him," It takes everything in Lethia not to scream as Adora romanticizes the monster of a man, "I don't think anybody expected you to fall, and I'm sure the audiences missed you, but boy oh boy did that Icarus put on a show. He's just such a class act, as I'm sure you know. And when he played Lune de Clair by Lebussy, which I know is your favorite, he dedicated it to you."

She grunts, Of course he dedicated the one song he could hardly play to me, fuckin' asshole. I just… It's getting harder and harder for Lethia to not just expose him right then and there, and she's equally annoyed at how much Adora seems to love Icarus, the same guy who would mope around about how nobody gives a damn about him, probably some shitty manipulative tactic Lethia wishes she'd seen from miles away.

"Yeah," Lethia gently sighs, the pain from her injury being wrapped up doing enough to mask the fact she's more mad at Icarus than at the fact she's in pain, "He's quite the guy, I have to agree."

What Lethia really can't believe is that less than a day ago, she really would've sung such high praises of Icarus, because even if he truly is the scum of the earth, and he did occasionally go too far in their shenanigans, he gave Lethia a lot that she can't really put into words. Even if it was all bullshit, as she's beginning to suspect, Icarus showed Lethia that she's worth something, and he helped her to get stronger, helped her to become an actual contender for the Games, and taught her how good it feels to succeed. Icarus taught her the importance of hard work even if you have to cut corners sometimes, and he taught her most of all that every action should have a consequence. Why should he be any different?

She's still aching but it's getting better, so she thanks Adora before running off to another training room. Lethia knows now that her injury isn't a death sentence, but rather a setback. A setback that's supposed to leave her in ruins but she's not going to let it. She's always said that she's going into the arena so she can win and pay for her father's treatment, but this recent development has taught her one thing… if she wants to win, she has to do it for herself.

Sure, Vicente's getting worse, and seeing him get better is going to make the grueling process of recovering from her injury and then entering the arena all worth it, but it won't make her feel as powerful as she'll feel once she's standing next to Icarus in the arena where she'll knock that stupid smug smile right off his face.

The feeling of victory, the way everything will get better for her family and for herself once she comes out of that arena alive is enough to keep her going. So what if her right hand's gone to shit, she'll just use her left to fight back twice as hard. No matter how many hours it'll take Lethia to get back on track to volunteering, she'll train for twice as long. Nothing is too drastic if it allows Lethia to return back to the throne she once so comfortably sat on, because the glory she'll feel from it will hit harder than ever before.

Icarus St. Augustine will regret what he's done to her, and until his blood's spilled and his face is in the sky, Lethia won't be satisfied. Now it's just a matter of getting there.

You Don't Know About Me, Ella Vos / Bad Intentions, Transviolet

Well holy fucking shit! We've done finished the intros! Look at us (me) go! Thank you to Ben for Fennella and Laney for Lethia and all the bad feelings they are going through. While I am a firm believer that Icarus has never and will never do anything wrong, maybe Lethia can have a few rights as a treat. I'd love to know what you think of these kids, and I look forwards to reading your (incorrect) arguments about why Lethia was done dirty by Icarus.

Now that intros are through, I'm curious who your favorite children are as well as any potential alliances you could see or even potential Victor candidates. I honestly have no clue at this point who wins this fucking thing, so you could be correct, you never know! Because I am very curious, I have a fun and sexy little poll where you can express how you feel by democratic means so go vote on that if you like voting.

Before we enter pre-Games we will have a sexy little interlude next week featuring my favorite person Liana Taylor as she goes on national television to discuss what she thinks of the Tributes (and it is revealed how the fuck Malin volunteered when they're mute), as well as some words from Haymitch as he copes with the fact he's mentoring his boyfriend and drug dealer. Last, we'll hear from a mystery third person who will leave you all very shook, or not, I've got no clue. Then It will be time for Capitol madness, where your beloved children will each receive an additional two POVs and we will hear more from the subplot gang, because I love to self indulge.

Here's the pre-Games schedule along with the POV counts for those interested. I'm not revealing who gets POVs where because I feel like being mysterious and sexy but hopefully none of these POVs exceed hmm... 2.5k? That seems reasonable! But hopefully they don't exceed 1.5k either... please lord bless me with self control.

14. Interlude I (3 Subplot POVs)
15. Train Rides/Chariots (5 Tribute POVs)
16. Training Day I (5 Tribute POVs)
17. Training Day II (4 Tribute POVS, 1 Subplot POV)
18. Training Day III / Private Sessions (2 Tribute POVs, 3 Subplot POVs)
19. Free Day (3 Tribute POVs, 1 Subplot POV)
20. Interviews Part I (4 Tribute POVs)
21. Interviews Part II (4 Tribute POVs)
22. Night Before (3 Tribute POVS, 1 Subplot POV)
23. Interlude II (4 Subplot POVs)
24. Launch (2 Tribute POVs, 1 Subplot POV)
25. Bloodbath (Who fucking knows how many POVs)

Also, fun fact. This is the last thing I am writing on my current computer, a delicious 8-year-old MacBook that has trouble running games as simple as Minecraft because it is so old. My new computer is soon to arrive, and while I am sad to say goodbye to this computer and the 650k or more words of Hunger Games Fanfiction it produced, I look forwards to having a computer that can actually do things besides sit around and disappoint me the same way I sit around and disappoint my mother.

Wow, I really did not shut up, but yeah! Thank you to all the submitters and to everybody reading thus far for giving me a very fun intro process, and I hope you all have a great week!

Fuck this shit, I'm out,
Linds