"Nightmares and Daydreams"
A/N: As per request of the submitter, Jamie doesn't have an intro, so y'all will have to wait 'til (checks notes) the night of the third day of training to see his first POV. Huh, that's a while away actually. Anyways, since that's a thing I decided I might as well also put Earheart in this chapter too b/c her partner doesn't have any POVs.
I know intros are getting progressively shorter, which, eh. Between this and TTS I've written so many intros recently that I'm running a bit low on ideas lol. Everything will balance out by the end of the pre-games though.
Warning: Dark themes in Persephone's POV. This isn't rated R so I don't get explicit, but it's pretty defining of her character so it's definitely there.
~Let's take these issues
Step by step by step, to work it out
Day by day by day we're falling down
But life goes on~
Persephone Saskia, 16
The Morning of the Reaping.
Persephone hated crowds. She had gotten up as early as possible and finished all her chores to avoid being crammed in the middle of a never-ending line, but it seemed like her efforts were for nothing. It didn't matter that she had avoided any sort of line, she was still trapped in the pen, slowly creeping closer to the wall to avoid the crowd of people filling in.
Petunia was still one year away from reaping age, and so the one person that could have calmed her down was still back at the orphanage, crowded around the communal television. So she was at the reaping alone, watching as families and friends all held each other and gave comfort. Mothers and fathers waited outside the roped sections for their kids, while friends hugged and moved in a pack through the pen.
Everything seemed even grimmer than usual. Up on stage a new escort stood and talked to the mayor. She had bright red, fluffy hair that she wore in a bun, wore a dress covered in emeralds, and had green eyes that seemed to glow an eerie neon color in the sunlight. The chair where Kyle Braddock usually sat as the lone District Ten victor was now empty, and it seemed to be affecting the district, a strange discomfort spreading throughout the crowd.
Persephone couldn't be bothered to notice. To her all she could pay attention to were those families, still held together, crying for fear that their temporary separation would become permanent.
Unwanted memories came to her.
The night where everything was torn apart. Where they had taken everything away from her. The Peacekeepers who took her life from her were all around, boxing them in, watching them. She wondered if one of them was the one that pulled the trigger and ended her parents' lives. Every time she saw a particularly large Peacekeeper her breath caught in her throat as even worse nightmares from that night threatened to play again in her mind.
But not those. She shoved those thoughts, those images, those feelings away. Whatever they had injected her with afterwards made her forget nearly everything, but it wasn't enough. There were still those lingering sensations, those flashes of fear. They stuck with her, not just when she thought of that night, but always.
How could it ever leave her? She lost more than just her family that night. She lost who she was. Her friends all abandoned her when happy, cheerful Persephone stopped being able to put up a smile, and couldn't bring herself to laugh at jokes that she didn't find joy in. She didn't feel comfortable in her own skin anymore. Everything brought back those flashes of that night, and even worse, every little thing had her mind reeling as she feared it would happen again.
She didn't feel like she could do anything right anymore. But that couldn't, wouldn't stop her from fighting. It didn't matter how badly she screwed everything up, she would still fight to prove that there were still things she could do, even on her own. Even as broken as she was.
"Hello, hello, hello!" The escort sang into the mic, giggling as she gave it a tap. "Welcome one and all, to the reaping for the one-hundred and second Hunger Games!" She threw her arms into the air, waiting for applause that nobody was willing to give. Confusion might have described her reaction, but certainly not shame, and so she continued on with unaltered enthusiasm. "Now, please welcome your mayor as he reads from the Treaty of Treason!"
The mayor stumbled onto stage. Beside Persephone, someone tried to squeeze their way through the crowd. A boy got bumped out of the way and collided with Persephone, grabbing her by the shoulder to avoid tripping.
"Don't touch me!" The scream came out involuntarily, panic rising in her chest as she shoved away from the boy.
The crowd was silent, and Persephone could feel the district's eyes on her. She tugged on her hoodie, covering her face and burying her arms into her sweatshirt pockets as her eyes fell to the floor. Her face flushed red as she waited for the moment to pass.
Luckily the mayor seemed unfazed by the interruption, continuing on without delay as he dully read through the treaty. Within time, everyone's eyes fell off of Persephone and back onto the stage, all too caught up in their own worries to pay attention to someone else. The boy muttered an apology and scooted away from her. She took solace in at least having everyone keeping a comfortable distance from her after the outburst. It didn't help her as much as she wished it would.
She hated the way that fear dominated her life, but she couldn't help it. It wasn't a choice, it was an instinct, fight or flight kicking back into gear and leaving her unsure how to respond.
The mayor wrapped up the memorized speech and handed the microphone back to the escort, whom he introduced as Sienna Mattick.
"Agh! This is exciting!" She exclaimed. "Are you all excited, because I'm excited." She again got no reaction. "Anyways, let's go ahead and figure out who the marvelously lucky lady is that will be selected to represent her district!"
Sienna went to the bowl, and Persephone realized that she wasn't the least bit scared. The event that had struck so much fear in her as a child didn't faze her in the least. She was a single slip of paper away from sure death, and she didn't care. The fact that even that thought didn't worry her brought a chill to her bones.
She looked at all the people around her. Every single person looked terrified, breathing heavily, squeezing a friend's hand, biting their nails, hugging themselves. . . it seemed like she was the only one who couldn't be brought to care.
Why should she? They were all scared because they had something to lose. Friends, family, a sense of self and a larger purpose. What was it she even wanted? She struggled to find an answer to that question. To prove to people that she could still do something worthwhile, she supposed. Who those 'people' were and what 'worthwhile' was she didn't seem to know.
The escort grabbed a slip, and began her walk over to the microphone. Persephone felt a tug in her chest. She wasn't sure if it was a call to the void or a heroic impulse, but she felt it regardless. A chance to do something that mattered, that intangible worthwhile action that could prove that she still had purpose. That could prove that her fear didn't dominate her. After all, what else could possibly be more fearless.
She felt herself inching forward, a lump in her throat as she found herself standing tall. She was ready to take control. To do something by her own accord, rather than just continue to live a life where she was dragged along with someone else at the controls.
"And the first tribute to represent District Ten in the one-hundred and second Hunger Games is. . ." she paused for dramatic effect, looking over the audience with a childish giddy. While everyone else held in their breath, Persephone built up the words she needed to say within her. She stood as tall as she could allow herself, and prepared for her moment.
"Persephone Saskia."
The words froze in her mouth. She felt herself sink back down as the eyes seemed to return to her.
"Oh," she said.
Earhart Robertson, 15
1 Day ago.
The Robertson house was alive. Earhart's parents were forced to stay late at work due to the looming reaping, but the house felt anything but empty. Chaos was in full swing, as each of the Robertson siblings found their own distraction from the worries of tomorrow.
Earhart was lying on the couch, their eyes resting half-open as they found their thoughts leaving their body behind. They jumped from tangent to tangent, image to image, floating through different worlds. There was no discernible pattern to the way their mind fluttered, and each thought and imagination was forgotten as soon as it was thought of. There were no worrying thoughts, no stress or deep thought. They were content, and that was all. The reaping tomorrow wasn't so much as a flicker in their imagination.
"Ugh, this never is- hey, Earhart! Mind helping me out with something?" Twelve-year-old Theaden slid into the living room, pushing up on the frame of his glasses.
Earhart smiled brightly. "Of course!" They needed no further explanation, following their little brother as they wove through the narrow halls of their cramped home.
They entered the dining room, where Theaden had set up a makeshift chemistry lab. A few cups were filled with liquids, all surrounding a massive plastic bottle. He fiddled with his glasses and spoke in a rapid voice. "I've been trying to figure out this chemical reaction that my teacher showed us a few days ago. I know he used yeast, water, soap, and hydrogen peroxide, but I don't know if it was twenty or forty volume."
Earhart stared at him blankly.
He waved a hand in the air. "You don't need to help me with any of that. I'm just worried it might explode, or something, so if you could maybe pour it in. . . ."
That inspired more confidence in them. "Psh, sure!" They exclaimed. "It'll be fine."
"Thanks Earhart, you're the best!" He said excitedly. He handed a glass of clear liquid to them. "Just, here, try this out first. Might as well go for the biggest reaction possible. Pour that in, and then run maybe?" He shrugged, seeming less concerned with that aspect of the plan.
Earhart showed as little regard for safety, carelessly walking over and dumping the liquid into the bottle. They crouched down to get a better view, and behind them Theaden slowly approached the table.
Suddenly, the liquids began to react. A blue foam began to form, slowly at first, then rapidly, shooting out of the top of the bottle. Earhart jumped back as it blasted out of the cup and fell to the floor. The reaction was over as soon as it began, blue foam settling all over the dining room floor and table.
The two Robertson siblings were quiet for a moment.
"That. Was. Awesome!" Earhart exclaimed excitedly. They turned and high-fived their brother, who joined in the enthusiasm, jumping up in place.
"The reaction was even bigger than in class. I wonder what it was? He said that the reaction was caused by the oxygen from the-"
"What in the world happened here?" The eldest Robertson walked into the room with a wide mouth and slacked jaw.
Theaden turned to Earhart, panic written across his face. "Scatter!" He quickly took hold of a handful of books and dashed out of the room.
Earhart didn't move, an excited smile still across their face as they looked up to their older brother. "You shoulda seen it, Coleman, it was like, pfmtbroom!" They attempted to recreate the sound effects of the explosion.
Coleman facepalmed. "This stuff could stain the floors-" He sighed. "Can you help me clean this up?"
Earhart nodded her head. Before he could give further instructions they bent down to their knees and scooped as much foam as they could manage into their arms.
"Not-" Coleman stopped himself, letting out another sigh. Foam squished against Earhart's shirt, dampening it, while bits of foam slunk into their sleeves and mixed with their hair. "Nevermind, just come dump that in this sink."
Earhart dropped the pile of warm foam into the thankfully empty sink, and Coleman ran the water and watched as it slowly slunk down the drain.
"Well, since you're already all foamy, you can just keep grabbing it with your arms. I'm gonna go get a mop."
Earhart agreed to that, and within a few minutes the floor was devoid of evidence. Coleman sighed, wiping his forehead as he set the mop down. "Thanks Earhart, just, try to not help Theaden if his invention or experiment or whatever involves destruction."
Earhart eyed him curiously. "We didn't destroy anything, did we? I'll fix it if we did."
"No, you didn't-" he stopped himself, held up a finger, and shook his head. "Never mind. I'll just go talk to Theaden. Try to stay out of trouble," he called out as he went down the hallway. "It's a long day for mom and dad, let's not give them anything else to worry about."
Earhart thought to ask him why they would take something that worried mom and dad and then give it to them, but didn't have time to formulate the question before Coleman was gone. Their mind wandered some more as they aimlessly traversed the home, eventually finding her way to the sizable backyard.
Auriol was out there already, their little sister playing with the youngest of the Robertsons, little five-year-old Omlie tolerantly allowing Auriol to attempt a french braid on her hair.
Earhart passed by the two of them with disinterest. They looked on for something more exciting, and didn't take long to find it.
Right behind the bushes where the two Robertson sisters were sitting, Wright was set up, hushing Earhart and motioning for them to approach. Earhart snuck their way over, diving down to their stomach as their ten-year-old brother began speaking in a hushed tone.
"Can you help me get them two?" He pointed to their sisters. "Auriol is hogging Omlie, when she was supposed to be playing pirates with me. So I think it's time to use the water balloons that I got from school last week." He motioned to a small bucket that was filled with a multi-colored collection of water balloons.
"Let's do it!" They said, pumping their fists with enthusiasm.
Wright winced, and Auriol stood up, looking back at the bushes. "Earhart? Wright? What are you guys doing back there?"
The two exchanged a look. "Get the balloons!" Wright shouted, making a mad dive for the bucket.
Earhart dove after, taking a firm grip of the bucket.
"Throw them!" Wright exclaimed.
They took a balloon in their hand, then looked at their brother with confusion.
Wright rolled his eyes. "At them!"
Earhart's eyes widened. "Right!" They said.
The two jumped to their feet, balloons in hand. Auriol finally realized what was happening, but too late. The balloons rained down on her, Earhart's throw hitting Omlie in the back of the head and sending her tumbling to the ground. With her face in the dirt, she began to madly giggle.
Auriol shrieked, frantically dodging the throws as she shouted for them to stop, her pleas quickly turning to threats and then back to pleas while Omlie's giggling increased in volume beside her when another balloon splashed right in front of her face.
Yeager stepped out of the house to investigate the noise, looking confused as they took in the situation. Wright pointed to their twelve-year-old sibling, and nudged Earhart in the shoulder. "Easier target!" He exclaimed. With a war cry he charged at Yeager, who quickly made their retreat back into the house. A water balloon exploded against the sliding door as they narrowly escaped the attack.
While Auriol was distracted, Earhart landed a hit on her back, which provided just enough distraction for Wright to hit her in the foot with the last of the balloons.
Auriol screamed in frustration, throwing her hands down. "You guys are dead!" She shouted.
Wright turned to Earhart, cackling as he shouted out, "run!" Earhart made a beeline for the house, dodging around Omlie when Auriol chased after them. They were able to lose their younger sister in the winding hallways of the house, but slipped into a bedroom to be sure, diving into the room and closing the door behind them.
"Can you knock!" Hoover moaned. Earhart's older brother let out an exasperated sigh and covered his face with a pillow as he attempted to shut his eyes.
Earhart knocked on the door.
Hoover threw down the pillow and sat up in his bed, looking at Earhart with tired, red eyes. "I'm just trying to get some sleep, can you please leave me alone?"
"I'm hiding from Auriol, I'll leave in a little bit," they said.
"Fine," Hoover muttered. The seventeen-year-old laid back down and closed his eyes. "Why are you running from Auriol, anyways?" He asked.
They recounted the story with explicit detail, right up to the moment that Wright shouted to run. Hoover just sighed, shaking his head.
"You shouldn't be bothering her today," he said glumly. "The reaping is tomorrow, she doesn't need to be upset about anything else."
"Why would she be upset about the reaping?" They asked, tilting their head as they sat down on the floor.
"Because she might get reaped. Because I might get reaped, or you, or any of us." His voice stammered a bit at that, and he let out a heavy sigh, turning over in his bed so he didn't have to face his sibling.
"She won't though," Earhart said simply. "None of us will."
"Everyone always says that," he muttered bitterly. "You don't know that, though."
"Yes I do," they said. There was no further explanation, no deep dive or thoughtful reflection. They knew that nobody they knew was getting reaped, and that was that.
Hoover sighed, and threw the pillow back over his head as he attempted once again to drift off to sleep. "You're wrong," he muttered.
Earhart wasn't listening though. They had already slipped out of the room, snaked through the halls, and sprinted for the sliding door that led to the backyard, not a single doubt in their mind.
A/N: Big thank you to Merp1Molecule and Goldie for Persephone and Earhart! I've gotten a ton of chapters stockpiled up, so I'm excited to be able to start speeding up updates soon as we enter into the pre-games! Just 2 more intros are left, with next chapter taking us to D8, and then D2 finishing them off after that! I am so excited to get these pre-games going, because all of the characters y'all sent me are so incredible, and I can't wait to get to see them interacting with one another. I've definitely been hitting a bit of writer's block with all these intros, and now that I've been writing pre-games words have started coming out a lot easier and more naturally.
Make sure to vote on the poll on my profile if you haven't already, as it's going to influence which tributes I give an extra POV in the Capitol during the free day or last night.
Trivia(1 point): Do you listen to music while reading and writing? If so, lyrical or instrumental? I feel like I'm really weird for listening to lyrical music while doing both, so I'm just tryna see if that's normal lmao