Pre-Reapings

Rion Dehart, 12, District 11 Male

When Rion reaches his grandmother's house, out of breath and drenched in sweat, he doesn't bother to knock. The flimsy door squeals as he pushes it open and he kicks off his muddy boots, knowing that she won't want them tracking on her carpet. "Grandma! You here?"

"In the kitchen!" She calls back and Rion drops his bag on the ground by the door. It's heavier than usual as he finally convinced his teacher to let him take home a bird species catalogue. As soon as he is done here, he plans to spend the rest of his night looking out the windows to identify as many as he can. He's sure that his mother would rather he spend time with friends, but Rion doesn't have very many of those. Quality over quantity is the name of the game and besides he enjoys his own company.

He finds his grandmother seated at the old dining table slicing an apple and promptly depositing each piece into her mouth. Rion only has to stare at her for a moment before she cuts off a thick chunk and tosses it towards him.

"Staying out of trouble?" She asks with a raised eyebrow.

"Trying," Rion shrugs as he chews.

"Too bad," She sighs. "I thought you were finally getting interesting."

Rion laughs and she winks at him playfully. It's only been a couple weeks since Rion's run in with that Peacekeeper, and his parents were definitely not as amused as she was when they heard about it. He didn't know the Peacekeepers could hear him when Rion said that they should be paying for their meals instead of scaring people into freebies. Rion got off with little more than a warning and a slap on the wrist, but the incident has him more shaken up than he'd care to admit. His parents said that he could have been flogged for insubordination.

"Staying for dinner?"

"I can't," Rion sighs. "Ma wants me home right after school."

"Of course, she does," his grandmother replies. "You didn't get in trouble. I don't know why she is so worked up."

"I don't know," Rion shrugs. He doesn't want to tell her that he is just as worried as his parents are. His grandmother has always been extremely vocal about the injustice in their district, but she's old enough now that the Peacekeepers brush her off as senile. Growing up, Rion wanted to be exactly like her- fearless and ready to stand up for those who can't. He doesn't want her thinking that he is complacent like his parents, but Rion also doesn't want to get hurt. At his age, the Peacekeepers are starting to pay more attention. They'll beat someone close to death for looking at them wrong. Rion shivers to think what they would do to him for talking like his grandmother. His parents think he could easily be accused of treason.

"Well then run along," she says sadly, nodding towards the door. "Don't want to worry your mother, now do we?"

Rion gets up to leave, regretting that he can't stay longer. His parents have been uncertain of him spending so much time with her as he got older, but after his reprimand they have become even more adamant against it. Rion loves his grandmother as much as he does his parents; she basically helped raise him while they worked. He still looks up to her and he wonders if he is letting her down now that he's starting to listen to his parents. It would be so much easier to keep his head down and let things happen, but those are the people that his grandmother hates almost as much as the Peacekeepers.

"Oh, Rion!" she calls after him and Rion pokes his head back into the kitchen to see what she wants. His grandmother sticks the paring knife into the remaining apple core and winks at him. "That Peacekeeper was a fucking prick. Don't let them get you down."

Rion can't help but laugh. "Thanks, Grandma."

Aristona Villiour, 18, District 2 Female

"You realize instruction is over, don't you?"

Aristona flinches as the voice breaks her concentration and her next slash barely scrapes the dummy's arm. She wrinkles her nose at the clear miss before spinning around to see Matias staring back at her. Aristona's cheeks redden, realizing that the Victor saw her mess-up, but she holds her head high and pretends not to care. It's true that it is well past time for the Academy to be offering classes, but with the Reaping coming up so quickly Aristona figured it would be a good idea to get in more practice. Her father was proud when she told him that she would be volunteering this year, and Aristona can feel the pressure building with every passing hour. When she gets into the arena, it won't just be her own life she is protecting anymore. Aristona will be holding the future of District 2 in her hands, just as Matias did years ago.

"It's open practice until nine," Aristona says, setting down the sword and inviting Matias to approach. It appears that he would like to speak to her, and Aristona is honoured to have that opportunity. District 2's Victors are as revered as the noblest war heroes, and at the Academy they are royalty. The students hang on every word regardless of their specialization.

"Aristona, correct?" Matias asks. It seems unthinkable that he should know her name, and Aristona almost melts as it escapes his lips. She has looked up to the Victors since she started at the Training Academy. They represent everything that District 2 stands for and everything she hopes she will be when she comes out of the arena.

"Yes," Aristona nods.

"I caught word that you will be volunteering next week," Matias says solemnly, watching her expression carefully. Aristona tilts her chin up just a touch higher and lets out a breath through her nose to calm her nerves. "Is that correct?"

"It is," she says proudly. She has been a trainee since the Academy was established, accepted immediately to specialize due to her father's business. Aristona was one of the first trainees to set foot in this room, and the very first to cry when her wrist caught the sharp edge of a sword. In three years she has transformed in ways that she never thought possible. The Academy turned her well-mannered, hardworking personality into a soldier ready for battle in the arena. Aristona could not be prouder to take on the title of tribute and serve her district, just as her father became a soldier to protect it.

"Congratulations," Mathias nods, extending a hand that feels much weaker than Aristona expected. "Your honour will be remembered. See you at the ceremony."

Mathias turns and walks out of the gymnasium before she can respond. Of course, Aristona recognizes the traditional farewell that every child of District 2 could likely recite in their sleep. During the rebellion, Aristona heard it many times from neighbors when referring to her father. At that time, it was used both to honour the soldiers and to console their families in case of loss. Pride swells in her chest as she watches the door close, leaving her alone once again. The farewell feels that much more significant when Aristona knows that it is meant for her. She will be a soldier just like her father, albeit in a different type of war. Her honour will be remembered.

Jory Danton, 17, District 9 Male

Jory whips out his baton and smashes it against the wooden post, cringing at the deep indent it leaves behind. It's late, probably well past midnight, but sleep is still far away. It was his father's idea to take the security job at the nearby mill, something about it looking good when he applies next year to be deployed as a Peacekeeper. Jory doesn't mind the night shifts, but they can get terribly boring especially when his partner rarely shows up anymore.

"Stand down," he mumbles, keeping his voice low so that he won't wake anyone in the nearby houses. One benefit of the night shift is that basically nothing happens, and Jory is free to do whatever he likes. Usually that means pacing back and forth near the doors, practicing the few takedown maneuvers his father showed him on sandbags. Jory thought it might be fun to try the post tonight but judging by the dent from his baton that might not be the best plan.

Jory's movements are not nearly as refined at the Peacekeepers, but he tells himself that more practice will get him there. His father assures him often that he will get recruited and not to worry so much about it, but Jory figures he can never be too ready. It's not as easy to get chosen from District 9 as it would be from District 2, where his father was born. Still, Jory is determined not to have to settle for a rejection.

"Busy?" The voice makes him jump and Jory immediately returns the baton to his belt before he turns around. A smile breaks across his lips when he sees it's only Chloe, dressed in dark clothes no doubt so her parents wouldn't see her leave. She is also hoping to get accepted as a Peacekeeper next year and often joins him during his shifts to practice. Practicing takedowns with her is a lot more fun than trying to beat up a sandbag.

"Completely swamped," Jory jokes, motioning to the empty lot around them. "Not sure I can squeeze you in tonight."

"Jerk," Chloe says, rolling her eyes. Jory smirks at her mistake, barreling into her before she can react. In seconds they are on the ground, Jory pinning down one wrist and fighting to get the other. It was a clumsy maneuver, but he easily wins by shear weight advantage. "Not fair, I wasn't ready."

"Is that what you'll tell your commander?" Jory taunts, smiling as he raises the pitch of his voice to attempt to match hers. "Sorry the murderer got away, but I wasn't ready."

"I hate you," Chloe laughs. Jory helps her back up to her feet and she brushes the gravel from her back. Though he's almost certain he shouldn't be letting someone else use his work equipment, he offers Chloe the baton to practice. It's the most basic weapon that a Peacekeeper could use, but also the only one Jory has access to as a security guard. Both of them figure it's better to be at least a little bit prepared than to go in blind.

"Do you think we'll get in?" Chloe asks him after a few minutes. Her expression is solemn, as it usually is when they start practicing together. Jory has had years of practice from his father and he still wouldn't consider himself a master. She has only a couple hours a week over the last few months.

"I will," Jory shrugs and Chloe punches him as hard as she can in the shoulder. He winces but tries not to let on how much it actually hurt. Chloe might be smaller than him, but she is not weak by any stretch of the mind. The Peacekeeper corps would be lucky to take her. "You seem to like talking more than practicing so who knows."

Jayde Cassidy, 17, District 10 Female

Jayde's heart beats quickly as she presses herself into the stone wall. She can hear the sounds of the marketplace jutting into the small alleyway. It's always been the ideal place but now the bustling of the patrons also shields her from hearing whether or not she has been followed. After a few long seconds, Jayde continues down the alley, coming to a dead end and smiling up at the top of the fence. It might have looked stupid to follow a path with such an obvious ending, but not for Jayde. She knows this square like the back of her hand along with every side street stemming off of it. To her, this is home and she knows the best escape routes.

She climbs up and over the fence, ducking down when she crosses the top to keep herself hidden. She is almost certain now that she was just being paranoid but it never hurts to play safe. The woman had turned so quickly to her after Jayde had slipped one of the packages from her bag. It felt obvious that she had been caught, but perhaps she imagined the angry look on the woman's face.

Jayde slips easily through the back roads, deciding that it's best to go home until the pre-dinner rush just to be sure. The door to their one-room apartment is unlocked, the knob having broken several months ago. A thick coat of dust covers every counter and the only light in the room is streaming in through the half-closed blinds. Jayde takes the package out of her jacket pocket, inspecting it eagerly to see what she's won. Her eyes light up when she sees the freshly sliced chicken and a sugary scent from the seasoning fills her nose.

"Look who's home early," Luke says groggily, stretching his arms as he sits up on the grounded mattress. He's definitely not family, but Luke is the closest thing to family that she has now. He yawns as he stands up to greet her, giving her a quick kiss before he sees the package.

Luke swipes it from her hand before she can protest. "No way. You went to the Carter's stand? Are you stupid? They know us."

Jayde reaches for it, but Luke holds it just high enough that she can't grab it back. "I'm not an idiot. Some woman had it."

He winks at her and she slaps him across the chest hard enough that he grunts with impact. Jayde takes back her treasure and pushes Luke even further away. He pretends to look hurt, but his smile gives him away. "Oh, you better be sharing."

"Why should I?" Jayde teases, breaking off a hunk of chicken and stuffing it into her mouth before Luke can even try to take it from her. They hardly ever risk trying for the good finds anymore because too many of the sellers recognize the pair. More specifically they recognize Luke, but he would never admit that. Jayde is much better at going undetected. Her brown eyes and hair help her blend into the district seamlessly while Luke's light features stick out like a sore thumb.

"So that I can keep up my manly physique for you?" Luke says, running a hand through his hair and staring at his own barely-existent biceps.

"Try again," Jayde says with a snort, breaking off another piece for herself. This time Luke intercepts, and it goes straight from her fingers into his mouth. She rolls her eyes but Luke nudges her playfully and she isn't able to even feign annoyance. Luke has always been able to bring out the best in Jayde. She'd never tell him that though, he would never stop rubbing it in.

Florian de Avila-Coronel, 15, District 12 Male

Florian turns the page quietly, adjusting his tie as it flops down in the middle of the paragraph he is reading. He would love nothing more than to go up to his room and change out of this uncomfortable suit, but that's the first place his parents will think to check for him. They hate when Florian leaves their dinner parties, but they're usually too busy entertaining to spend much time searching for him. According to them, he should be happy to meet so many important people at his age, though they all seem the same to Florian.

He stiffens when the cellar door opens and the sounds of the dinner party leak back into his ears. It's not that he wants to disappoint his parents by sneaking away, it's just that he'd rather be anywhere other than the party right now. Every other member of his family is perfectly at ease engaging in conversations with people that they hardly know or laughing at a joke that they can't understand. The truth is that Florian isn't much more interesting than the china in their cabinet, and probably even worse at conversation.

As the door open, Florian is relieved to see their housekeeper, Oria, enter the cellar. She shakes her head when she sees him crouched between the wine racks. It's certainly not the first time she's stumbled on one of his hiding spots. "Now I don't know much about wine, but I do know that children shouldn't be sneaking around it."

"Sorry, Oria," Florian blushes. "I'm not… I'm not drinking it."

"I know," she smiles. "I'd have a lot more questions if you were. Had enough of the party?"

Florian nods, closing his book but keeping his finger between the covers to keep his place. "Please don't tell them where I am."

"I wouldn't dream of it," Oria says with a wink. She's been working for his parents since before Florian was born, and Oria knows him better than anyone else in the household. He's the second youngest of six, after all, and it's hard for his parents to keep track of all of them. Probably especially so with respect to Florian. Almost everything they pride themselves on simply doesn't appeal to him. "They've sent Santino after you, though."

Florian groans and leans his head back against the wall. His younger brother, Santino, is going to be annoyed to have to leave the party to search for him again. He's just getting to the age where he is allowed to attend their dinners, and now Florian is going to ruin that for him again tonight. "I should go back, shouldn't I?"

Oria shrugs and gives him a knowing smile. "I'm not going to tell you what to do."

"Thanks," Florian says, but he knows that he should go back upstairs. He checks his watch and sees that almost an hour has passed since he left. He'll be able to excuse himself to bed in another hour or so anyways. For Santino, Florian will suffer through it.

He takes the back stairway up into the kitchen and grabs a glass of water from the tap. It's not a good excuse to be gone for such a long time, but Florian knows that his parents will not chide him in front of their guests. He'll be sure to get a lecture tomorrow morning, but that will be an issue for later. Florian pulls a quiet smile onto his lips and steps into the dining room. Only a few eyes turn to greet him, and with a curt nod to his mother Florian floats seamlessly into a nearby group. It's remarkable how well he fits in with the overdressed crowd; just like the china plates.

Noemma Dobra, 16, District 4 Female

"Noemma! Pull the rope tighter, Rowley's side has caught air already!"

Kaia's shouts easily cut through the sound of sloshing of waves against the ship's hull, and Noemma uses her body weight to lift the sail. This is a relatively straightforward drill, but it's been trickier in the high winds than Noemma expected. She blinks salt water from her eyes and grits her teeth, willing the sail to rise up and match Rowley's. In a few seconds, it does and Noemma sighs knowing that her part of the drill is finally over.

Noemma tightens her ponytail, which is also slick with sea water. The waves have been unrelenting today, but Kaia said it was perfect drill weather. If she was the one calling the shots from the sidelines, Noemma might have been more inclined to agree with her. As one of the newer and younger coast guards, Noemma wouldn't dare say anything against her unit captain. She wants to make a good impression during every moment that she spends on this boat. Someday, if she's lucky, Noemma might be allowed to lead her own unit like Kaia.

Noemma tries not to shiver as she stands back and watches the rest of the coast guard. Rowley briefly tries to make polite conversation, but he can soon see that her eyes are glued to Kaia and he gives up. Noemma memorizes every call that Kaia makes, wondering if she would have been smart enough to make the same decisions. The drill ends quickly, and Kaia calls for them to head back to shore. Noemma takes this chance to go over and talk to her.

"Great call with the masts," Noemma says with a wide smile. "I don't know if I would have thought of that one."

"That's because you're still green," Kaia says loudly without bothering to turn around. "You don't need to make these calls yet. Good thing, too."

Her words sting but Noemma does her best to swallow the embarrassment. She wants more than anything to learn from Kaia, but her unit captain always seems to have other plans. Noemma tries as hard as she can, both during drills and during the real calls she has been allowed to assist on. It's been a year since she took the job and, though Noemma knows that she is getting better, sometimes it's hard to believe that she can really do this. They reach the shore quickly and everyone disembarks to head for the storage house.

"Noemma?" She perks up at the sound of her name, turning to see Matteo walking out of the guard tower with a bright smile on his face. Noemma jogs over to him and he pulls her into the tower, shutting the door behind them. He wraps her in a warm hug, clearly not caring that she is soaking wet from the boat.

"How was the drill?" He asks.

"It was okay," Noemma says honestly. It certainly wasn't her best day, but it never is when she has to help with the actual boat mechanics. It's been the most difficult part of the job so far, and Noemma is much more comfortable just dealing with the actual people they find.

"So modest," Matteo says, rolling his eyes. He's been working with the coast guard for much longer than Noemma, but for some reason he isn't as hard on her as the rest of the team. Matteo has always been the person that she goes to if she is having trouble with new skills. He makes her feel like she isn't a complete failure, which is sometimes difficult after a shift with Kaia.

"I should get back. Kaia wanted to debrief," Noemma says reluctantly. She wishes that she could just stay and work with Matteo for the rest of her shift, but she needs to hear the critiques. Today is probably going to be harsh, but she'll learn for next time. Noemma isn't going to stop until she gets everything perfect. Matteo looks disappointed as he opens the door for her to leave, his fingertips lingering on her hip for a moment longer than they probably should have.

A/N: Well this was more fun than I expected it to be. I've decided to include 6 mini-POVs per chapter so that we can get through them a little faster. They're designed just to give you a small introduction to each character and their situation before the reaping ceremony. Of course, personality will be expanded upon in later chapters and I don't expect you to glean a full analysis of each tribute from these little sections. Hopefully I did everyone justice and let me know how I did presenting your tribute if they were part of this first group.

What do you think of these 6 tributes (Rion, Aristona, Jory, Jayde, Florian, & Noemma)?

What do you think of the short POVs for this chapter? Any advice?

I am going to attempt to stick to a schedule of updating approximately every 3 days, but we will see how that goes as I get back into things. I appreciate thoughts and any criticisms you can offer because I haven't done these types of introductory chapters in a hot minute. Thanks as always!

~ Olive