A/N: Trigger warning for this chapter.


Chapter 8:

Grey Pendleton, 17, District Eight

One Month Before The Reaping

3:08.

Grey lets out a sigh as he looks up from his watch and back towards the school door, leaning against one of the cement pillars lining the front gate. He starts cracking his fingers, one by one, as he stares at the door, waiting for his cousin. She should have been out by now…and he's growing more impatient by the minute, knowing this delay is going to cut into his schedule of going for his afternoon run. She knows that he's here waiting for her, yet she's still not out yet.

A few stragglers leave the door and Grey momentarily straightens up, putting on a kind smile as he casually waves at the students walking past him. A couple wave back while the others keep talking to themselves, ignoring him as they leave, too focused on their plans for the weekend. Once they're past him, the smile soon fades from his face, replaced by a look of annoyance towards Quill.

3:10.

"Come on, Quill," Grey mutters to himself as he glances impatiently at his watch once more. There's no doubt in his mind that his aunt is to blame for Quill's tardiness, having not properly raised her to recognize being punctual, or at the very least letting people know if she'll be late. But as he turns towards the door again, part of him starts to grow worried for her. Did something happen to her? That could explain why she's late… Should he go inside and check? Or wait a bit longer and show her that she needs his help?

But before Grey can make up his mind, the door opens again and Quill steps outside, pausing at the top of the stairs to look around for a moment and when she catches sight of him, a scowl forms on her face. She starts storming down the steps, ignoring Grey completely.

"What happened? Are you okay? Did you get hurt in any way?" Grey asks quickly as he walks over to Quill, examining his cousin's physical appearance very quickly for any visible signs of harm.

A sneer forms on her face as she gives him a long side glare, one that Grey is all too familiar with, and he braces himself for another challenging day of convincing her that he's right. "What happened is I was taking my time trying to avoid you."

"If you were going to take this long, you should have told me so I could have come in and helped you pack up faster," Grey shakes his head at his cousin as she starts storming off towards her home, not waiting for him. "Quill, wait for me. You know it's not safe for you to be walking home alone without me. Just look at what happened when you did that before. Do you really want to lose your other arm?"

"Oh don't start acting like I can't do anything with this," Quill retorts to him as she waves her right hand at him. Grey picks up his pace to keep up with her storming, refusing to let her walk home alone without him, even if she is intent on doing everything to push back against him. "You know, I was having a bad day already and seeing you just made it absolutely awful."

"What happened? Did someone hurt you? If they did, it's because I wasn't there," Grey shakes his head as he stares ahead, smile still on his face for the people they pass on the streets. Wouldn't want them thinking he's being anything but a kind young man helping out his younger cousin. But Quill lets out a laugh of indignation, pushing Grey's already thin patience with her and getting close to his limits. "Quill, why do you insist on being insufferable?"

"Maybe you should ask yourself that," Quill tells him as she pauses for a moment at the crossroad, before looking both ways and crossing before the light has changed.

"Quill, stop!" Grey yells at her as he starts running after her in the crosswalk, only for her to stubbornly do exactly that and stop in the middle of traffic. She crosses her arms as a car honks at them, having to stop for them, and Grey grabs her arm and drags her out of the road and back onto the sidewalk. "If you nearly get yourself hurt when I'm with you, what do you think would happen if I wasn't around?"

"I'd be safer because you wouldn't make me so damn mad!" Quill yells at him before yanking her arm out of his grip and stomping off towards her house once more. Grey sighs before catching up to her, which only makes her glare at him. "Why do you even waste your stupid time with me? Just go home and be an ass to your actual siblings since you have them wrapped right around your slimy finger."

Grey's patience is very quickly getting to its limit and he just stares ahead, refusing to respond to her comment. He doesn't like ignoring her, but at this point, it's the only way she's going to learn. He keeps a smile on his face, but it's very forced at this point. Why can she not see that she needs him? He's the only one that can protect her. Clearly her mother can't do that since she let Quill get injured years ago and become disabled. If Grey had been there that day, it would have been a completely different outcome. Maybe Quill just needs to see how he's the only one that can protect her…

"Are you ignoring me?" Quill asks him and Grey keeps staring straight ahead, refusing to talk to her when she's acting this way. From the corner of his eye, he can see her look over at him, and he just shakes his head at her. They turn the corner onto her street and she lets out a 'hmph' of satisfaction. "Good, I don't have to listen to your aggravating voice anymore."

Grey takes his time answering her, wanting her to know that she has hurt him by acting out this way. They pass a few run down houses in silence until reaching the next crosswalk and Quill has a skip in her step as she crosses the street, surely feeling like she's won this argument with him. But she hasn't. Not even close to winning against him. "You know Quill," Grey says with a heavy sigh as he follows her across the street, "It truly hurts me to have to ignore you. And I know it hurts you too not having your favorite cousin talking to you."

"I'll show you hurt," Quill mutters as she starts fumbling with her arm, her pace slowing to focus on it.

"Careful, Quill," Grey warns her a moment too late to stop her from walking into a light pole, entirely her fault for focusing on her arm instead of where she's going. He could have pulled her aside, but sometimes he has to just let them learn and get hurt. He sighs as Quill lets out a noise of pain and rubs the spot she hit, "I warned you, Quill. You get hurt even when I am around, so what would have happened if I wasn't here?"

"Hmm, I wouldn't have run into it in the first place because I wouldn't have gotten frustrated at you," Quill responds before pulling off her prosthetic arm and smacking him across the chest with it, quickly making the smile disappear from his face. "I don't need your damn help!" Grey snatches the prosthetic out of her hand and holds it up high enough where she can't reach it, even when jumping. Not a hard thing to do consider she's more than half a foot shorter than his tall stature. She starts shoving his chest when he doesn't give it back to her, her face showing growing anger and worry. "Give it back to me! I'm serious, Grey!"

Grey fixes her with a blank stare, making her take a step back from him right away and stopping her jumping for her prosthetic. She eyes it nervously as Grey stays silent, the bustling of the city as everyone starts heading home for the day filling the empty silence as he watches her carefully, pushed to his breaking point.

"Really, Quill?" Grey asks in an emotionless voice as he brings the prosthetic arm down to look at it in front of him for a moment, before sliding his bag off his shoulder and crouching down to better unzip it. "You know, I thought better of you. I never expected that you would reach such a low point where you feel the need to hit me with this," Grey holds the arm up for a moment before sliding it into his bag.

"Grey, what the hell?" Quill asks him as he zips up the bag and swings it back onto his shoulder as he stands up. Quill tries to shove his chest with her remaining hand, but he stands firm, barely getting moved by her and further proving to him that she needs him there protecting her. She's not strong enough to defend herself on her own, especially without her prosthetic. "Damn it, give me back my hand, you asshole!"

"No, Quill," Grey responds, pushed to his very limit and his voice raising in anger, surprising both of them. He shakes his head at her before continuing to walk towards her house, knowing she'll follow him now that he has something of value to her. "It's clear to me now that your mother has failed to raise you properly. Insulting your cousin? Who has done so much to care for you and help you after your accident? Show some damn gratitude!"

Grey lets out an angry laugh as he stops in front of Quill's house, knowing his aunt is never going to raise Quill properly, not the way that he would. He sees the fault of her upbringing now, all stemming from his aunt insisting that she could properly raise Quill and no longer needing Grey to watch over her a couple years ago. "I should have fought harder against your mother, insisted she needed me more after your accident. That was a failure on my part – more so a failure of your mother, though. A failure I plan to fix."

"Grey…" Quill says quietly as she tries to get past him, keeping her distance to reach the path up to her front door. "Give me back my arm…you're scaring me."

Grey stares off blankly for a few seconds before bringing his stare to her, barely hearing what she said. "I'm going to be in charge of raising you from now on. And to show how much better I can raise you, here," Grey tosses his bag at Quill, watching her barely catch it with her hand. She quickly unzips it and takes out her arm, cradling it to her chest to try and stop him from possibly taking it again, before kicking his bag back to him and spilling some of the contents. Pitiful, really, how dependent she is on it, even though she claims she can still do anything with it. If she would have let Grey help her, he would have shown her what she could do without the prosthetic – within reason, of course. He'd still need to keep her in line.

"You're insane, Grey. How the hell do you propose doing that, dimwit?" Quill yells at him from her front porch, gesturing around to the buildings surrounding them with her prosthetic arm angrily. "You don't even have a home!"

"You'd never have this anger with me raising you!" Grey tells her, voice raised in anger that makes her take a step back from him as fear crosses her face. Grey's mind works slowly through the burning anger in him towards his aunt, trying to put together the pieces of his plan. "I'll get myself a home," Grey tells her as he tries to figure out how to do that at seventeen and without a proper job – babysitting doesn't pay nearly enough to afford a home. "I'll…"

Grey trails off as his brain finally puts together the plan, a brilliant plan, he'll admit, of how he will get a home and a proper lifestyle for Quill, away from his aunt who continues to fail at raising her. There's one clear way that he can get a home – a damn nice and expensive home – without needing to get a job that forces him to work 80 hours a week. That wouldn't do, then he'd have no time to raise Quill properly. A slow smile begins to form on his face as he picks up his bag, shoving the things back in it as he stares at Quill's terrified face. "One month, Quill. In one month, I will get you a proper life and fix the failures of your mother. Just you wait."

Quill stares at him for a few more seconds before running inside her house, leaving Grey to finish packing his bag alone. He'll scold her tomorrow about leaving him without saying goodbye. For now, he needs to get home. He has some training to do.


Maeryn Callahan, Escort for District Eight

Chef Mae takes the stage in District Eight to some cheers of excitement from those she's a familiar face to, those that look forward to her quips and words she'll have for the chosen tributes. Most of them belong to those past the Reaping age, safe from getting called a fucking donkey or maybe a miserable wee bitch. At this point, Chef Mae mostly keeps up the insults in public because it's expected of her. Everyone waits and speculates on what insults Chef Mae will have cooked up for her District each year since it's the only chance they get to see them now that Mae's shows have been over for several years in favor of working at her small restaurant. And yes, maybe she's gotten a bit softer in her years of seeing tribute after tribute go through the Games, most of which not making it back home alive despite their best efforts.

Except for sassy young Astrid. She'll always have some quips for the young lass and she'll fire them right back at her, not holding back at all. Yes, Chef Mae loves the victors she's managed to bring home – even if she'll always be mad at herself for taking that promotion the year Barathea won.

"Alright you twats, let's get down to the Reaping! We have a fucking schedule so don't waste time diddling yourself and get up on the stage when I call your name!" Chef Mae yells at the crowd, hands on her hips and staring them down. "If you don't know who I am, hello, I'm Chef Mae and welcome to reality you dimwit, I've been an escort here for over twenty years!"

A few cheer at this in the crowd and Chef Mae shakes her head at them as she heads over to the first glass bowl, "This isn't a fucking sporting event, it's the Reaping. Calm down, you dumb nuts."

Chef Mae gives the crowd a firm look, keeping them quiet as she picks the first name. She really wishes they'd be more respectful of the children being picked, not just getting excited for her insults. "First up is Cheraline Dagen."

The escort waits at the microphone for the girl to start making her way out from the crowd, but before she even gets halfway towards the stage, a slurred angry voice calls out, "I-I volunteer."

Chef Mae raises her eyebrows as she watches a girl stumble out from the fifteen year old section and start approaching the stage. "Do we not know manners here? Come on, District Eight, you know you wait until I ask…" But Mae trails off as the girl gets closer to the stage, recognizing that whatever drove this girl to volunteer was not a good reason. The girl wears a sweaty t-shirt and ripped pants that don't hide the bruises covering her arms, in various states of healing. Her hair doesn't cover the fresh black eye or the split lip with a bit of dried blood caked to it.

"What's your name?" Mae asks quietly as she gathers the girl on the stage, looking around nervously at the victors and others on the stage, recognizing the abuse on the girl.

"Gwenith," she slurs and Mae picks up on the smell of alcohol on her breath. "Gwen…Drezzel."

"Okay Gwenith, we'll get you taken care of," Chef Mae reassures her, but she suspects the girl is too far gone to recognize what she's saying or just what she volunteered for. Mae looks back on the stage and a Peacekeeper steps forward to take Gwenith's arm, keeping the girl upright on the stage.

"Well then," Chef Mae addresses the crowd as an uneasy muttering passes over it. Gone is the energy they had when Mae first appeared, leaving behind uncertainty at Gwenith volunteering. Mae doesn't even know for sure what to even say now and she clears her throat, knowing she needs to keep up an act for the Capitol. "If anyone else is going to do that, don't be a rude ass and wait until I ask for volunteers."

Chef Mae takes a deep breath before going to pick the other name, a bit frazzled at the turn of events today. Normally the Reapings here are so straight forward: she'll pick two names and that's it. They very rarely have volunteers… "And the second tribute is Garlin Potson."

Chef Mae uses the time as Garlin heads up to the stage to compose herself and get back on track, so when the boy reaches the stage, she's ready to let the insults keep flying. "Now that we've waited until the proper time, anyone want to volunteer in the proper time?"

To everyone's surprise, a second voice does call out. "I volunteer!"

There's more murmuring in the crowd as a boy steps out from the seventeen year olds, wearing a simple white dress shirt with short sleeves, brown slacks being held up only by the belt he wears, and well worn out loafers. His hair is pushed back and gelled into place, leaving his face open for everyone to see who he is as he takes the stage with what Mae can only assume he thinks is a dazzling smile that will win everyone over. "Oi, what's your name?"

"Grey Pendleton, next victor of the Hunger Games," Grey answers confidently as he pushes back his hair some more before flashing the crowd a smile.

"Look at this imbecile, volunteering for the Games," Chef Mae says as she points at Grey standing all smugly on the stage, looking real proud of himself. She partially means the insult, really wondering what could possibly make this boy think volunteering is a good idea, but at least the Capitol will just view it as her schtick. "What are you trying to achieve lad by volunteering? Winning a trophy for having a single brain cell?"

The smile on Grey's face falters slightly, but he keeps it on as he fixes Chef Mae with a cold look. But he remains silent, ignoring her insult. She raises an eyebrow at him expectantly before turning to the crowd, "Ah, I see, that brain cell is working full force on your pride and can't afford any effort to talk. Very well, looks like we have our tributes. Gwenith Drezzel and Grey Pendleton."


We are back with another intro! Big thanks to Little Knight Mik for Grey and Chef Mae and Brooke2214 for Gwenith! I've been having a lot of fun with Grey and all the invalid tributes we have in this cast of tributes! And of course, who doesn't love some good quips from Chef Mae? The train rides are going to be fun combining Grey, Chef Mae, and Astrid in one place lol.

It's time to get through these intros! I have all of the remaining intros and the reaping recap done so I have a stockpile for this (and Senseless) and will be able to consistently update every Friday for several weeks! I have a schedule on my profile if you're curious to see when I'll be updating things and I'm keeping it updated with chapters as I finish them.

RQ #8: On a scale of 1 to 10, how dumb is Grey's plan? XD

Alrighty, I will see you next week with District Five!