Reapings

Madina Kerrigan, Victor of the 6th Hunger Games

Madina throws another few pieces into her bag before easily zipping it closed. It feels much less chaotic packing now compared to the other years. She can still feel her heart quicken in her chest when she thinks about where she is going, but she is able to remind herself that she is not the one in danger. Six years since she's been in the arena and the feeling of being under fire hasn't quite gone away but it's slowly fading. Along with the fear of getting on the train again is the determination to do better by her tributes. Madina spots a pair of socks hidden under the bag and squeezes those in as well. She does not know how long she will be in the Capitol this time around, but she's packing in hopes that it will be longer than the last two years.

The first year that Madina was brought to the Capitol as a mentor, she had no desire to be there and both of her tributes suffered for it. Thinking back, it's difficult not to blame herself for giving up on the two kids before even learning what they were capable of. It's the Hunger Games and, in all likelihood, they would have died even if she'd done everything right. Last year she tried to do just that, but the outcome was only slightly better. The female, Alandra, made it to the third day. Leo, like the 10th Hunger Games tributes, died in the Bloodbath. This year, Madina knows that she must try even harder but it won't be that easy.

Madina knows nothing about strategy. She didn't have anyone to teach her what to do in order to survive, she just did it. She doesn't know how to help others do the same when looking at them brings back memories of Harland, the other tributes she killed, and the version of herself that stayed stuck in the arena. It's hard to think straight when all the wound break open the second she even thinks of the Hunger Games. Two years ago, she cut off any ties to the tributes so that she wouldn't feel the pain when they died. Last year, all of the hurt came out in tears and panic. This year, she's trying to channel all of the raw emotions she is feeling into anger. Thinking back, that's the only reason she was able to stay in the right mind to make decisions in the arena. If it helped her then, maybe it can help the new tributes now.

The lump reforms in her throat as she hears the screen drawl into the next district. Madina sits down on the edge of the couch, the bag slipping through her fingertips and landing at her feet. District 8 will be soon, but for now it might not be the worst plan to see who they'll be up against. Allies could be good for them, in fact it's a miracle that Madina survived without any. There is strength in numbers that simply can't be denied.

"As per tradition, we will begin by selecting the female tribute that will represent District 7," the escort says, her hands clasped delicately in front of her. Her fingers are covered in thin lace gloves that dip gracefully into the reaping bowl to pull out a single slip. "Verdana Corbel, come on up darling."

A commotion in the crowd pulls the camera's eye towards one of the front sections. Peacekeepers enter and pull out a girl with thick, curly hair that reminds Madina of a younger version of herself. Sobs shake the girl as she allows the guards to lead her towards the stage. She looks back for a moment to the outside crowd, terror evident in her dark eyes that leak tears down her cheeks. As she stands on stage, she holds her arms tightly around herself, breaths coming in quick gasps as she stares down at the floor.

"Now for the boys," the escort continues, oblivious to the young girl's tears. Madina has the urge to run to comfort her, but she knows that the girl is too far away to get to. Besides, what other option does she have but to cry? She can't be older than fifteen, and Madina would bet she's actually younger. As terrible as it is to think, Verdana doesn't have much of a chance against the older tributes. Especially the volunteers. "Levi Mirani."

The camera catches movement at the back of the crowd and zooms in on a plain looking boy with brown hair and eyes. His face is flushed as he looks at the other boys that he passes, but none of them are willing to do anything to help him. Peacekeepers greet him at the edge of the aisle and he allows them to lead him up to the stage, his entire body trembling but his expression remaining largely neutral.

"Levi!" A shriek can be heard from the girl's section, but the camera ignores it to focus on Levi. His head spins around, recognizing the voice but unable to get to it. He brings his hands up to his face, but its easy to see the tears that stream down his cheeks. The escort pulls Levi's hands down to his sides and he tries to hold back more tears, but they don't stop.

"Well, shake hands, you two."

Verdana shakily extends a hand to Levi, who accepts it as he tries to hold eye contact with his district partner. Almost as soon as they lock eyes, Verdana's eyes return to the ground and more tears sprout. Levi gently reaches for the girl briefly, but the scene cuts to District 8 before Madina can see what he'll do. She's thankful not to have to watch them any longer. They seem like good kids, but neither of them can help how they react to their life being declared virtually over.

"Welcome District 8. It is time again to select the brave souls that will compete in the upcoming Hunger Games," Helio, the District 8 escort says dramatically. Madina doesn't particularly like the Capitolite, but he's not the worst out of the bunch by far. He just has a flair for the dramatics that most non-Capitol citizens find distasteful. "We will begin with the young ladies. Evi Tolbert."

A minute later, a tall girl with cropped hair emerges from the crowd. Her lips are tightened into a thin frown and her eyes look straight ahead without acknowledging the pitiful looks from those around her. She accepts Helio's gloved hand that helps her up to the steps and holds her arms still at her sides when they reach center stage. Madina finds herself wondering if Evi is actually this confident in her chances or simply has the most self-control she's ever seen. Either way, it's bound to get her bonus points with the Capitol.

Madina cringes. She hates to think about the tributes trying to gain the Capitol favour like some prized show ponies, but there's no other choice. Even Madina, who went in rated in the lower half of tributes, gained favour as the days in the arena went on. It seems impossible to win without it, even if at it's core the death match is supposed to be 'fair'. Madina learned first-hand that nothing will ever be fair when it comes to the Hunger Games.

"Now for the young men. Aberro Tripe."

Madina watches the camera zero in on one of the front sections, clenching her fists in her lap. She knows that the younger children are always at the front, some kind of sick trick of the Capitol to welcome them into the reaping pool. Sure enough, a younger-looking boy with tanned skin and dark features emerges into the center aisle. His eyes are wide as he looks around him, probably processing the fact that all eyes are now solely on him. She watches him let out a slow breath and walk stiffly to the stage without assistance. His body trembles but he does not cry, and for that Madina is grateful. Despite looking about their age, he doesn't look as helpless as Leo or Iman. From the moment that they were chosen, neither of them stopped crying until they'd almost reached the Capitol.

Aberro looks at Helio's hand for a moment before he takes it and is quickly pulled up the remaining steps. He briefly looks over at Evi, who ignores Aberro completely as she stares out at the crowd, before he focuses his gaze on the clouds above them. As instructed, Evi extends her hand out to Aberro but he doesn't even seem to notice. She wrinkles her nose and nudges him not so gently in the side with her outstretched hand. Helio gasps dramatically and pulls Aberro away before he can answer, though his stunned look tells Madina that he wasn't about to retaliate.

Gracen Walsh, Victor of the 7th Hunger Games

Gracen jots down notes regarding the previous two districts as the commercials begin again. Her bag is already neatly packed for her trip to the Capitol and sits on the ground by the door. As soon as the reapings are over, Gracen will walk to the station to meet the train as the tributes finish their goodbyes. She slides the coloured schedule out of the front of her notebook, checking it over one more time to ensure she has it committed to memory.

Her mother often says that time has flown these past few years, but Gracen knows that is simply not the case. Time doesn't get away from you when you plan every waking moment. Gracen has always been a timely person, but after returning from the Hunger Games this increased tenfold. She has a schedule for everything and no desire to stray from what's been planned for her. If there is something she doesn't want to think about, and there are probably hundreds of these such things, she simply doesn't schedule time for it. If she keeps herself busy, there is no ability for her mind to wander to uncomfortable topics. Gracen hasn't allowed herself to think of the Hunger Games until this morning.

On reaping day, it is impossible not to think of her own experience five years ago so Gracen allows time for it. Still, she cannot allow herself to be consumed by the memories because it will take too long to claw herself back out of that pit. Gracen is no longer just a Victor, she now also has the responsibility of mentoring District 10's tributes each year. Her time in the Capitol is not for her own mourning, it's to give these two kids the best possible chance at surviving like she did. Gracen must do everything it takes to bring them home, and that means that preparation begins now.

Gracen glances over the page, which denotes every tribute's name and general impression thus far. She's places stars next to the ones that she believes will be threats in the arena and dashes next to the ones that she believes will make useful allies. There are a lot more stars than dashes thus far, but that's to be expected. Gracen has a lot more to fill in once she actually meets her own tributes. She hopes that she'll be able to put stars next to their names as well.

"It's time again to select the newest pair of tributes to represent District 9 in the 12th Hunger Games," the escort announces with a bright red smile on her face. Gracen has never understood the desire to wear so much makeup, or any at all really. She's perfectly happy to look as plain as a daisy most days. Especially when she is in the Capitol.

"Sinead Kennard."

For a moment, the camera finds only stillness in the mass of girls before it finds a slight commotion near the middle section. One girl stands staring at the waiting stage as the rest of them turn to look at her. It's obvious that this girl is the chosen tribute, but she doesn't seem to know what to do with herself. Her mouth falls slightly open as the Peacekeepers enter the crowd to retrieve her, but she doesn't fight them. Gracen cringes for the girl, she can understand the sense of disbelief in herself that Sinead must be feeling right now. It's hasn't been nearly long enough yet to forget.

Gracen taps the tip of her pan on the paper beside the District 9 slot before she finally begins to scrawl the girl's name down. It's smart to wait for volunteers, even if there is never one from such a poor district. It didn't take very long to view the Hunger Games as a death sentence. No matter how sad her friends will be to see Sinead go, they'd rather it be her than them. That's just the way things are.

Sinead is deposited on the stage, her lip quivering as she stares out at her district but to her credit no tears fall. Gracen leaves the spot beside Sinead's name unmarked. Not a threat but not necessarily an asset yet either. That feels like the right judgement for now. The escort hardly seems to notice the girl's discomfort as she steps over to the second reaping bowl. Not that there is much she can do about Sinead right now anyways. The escorts are generally kind people, but dim with regards to what the tributes are going actually through.

"Jory Danton."

Unlike with his district partner, it takes almost no time at all to find Jory in the crowd. He marches to the center aisle from his place in the sections as the other children move to let him pass. His eyes are locked on the ground but his expression is determined. Jory doesn't look at the stage until he's climbing up the steps toward it and he turns away from the escort as she approaches him. He clenches his hands at his sides and doesn't look at anyone, it appears as if he's either too angry or too scared to.

"Shake hands you two," the escort says, nudging both of the tributes as her smile widens further. Sinead flinches but turns to Jory, timidly extending a shaking hand towards him. Jory takes it roughly and gives it a couple shakes, avoiding eye contact the entire time. Sinead's brows furrow as she looks at her district partner and her lips move in a question, though Gracen can't hear what she asks. The scene fades into District 10 and Gracen hurries to jot down Jory's name, deciding at the last minute to scrawl a star next to it.

Her heart skips as she sees the square and Gracen silently thanks the district for allowing her to watch from home again. It's been years but Gracen has still never visited the square since her Victory Tour. It's too difficult to keep her mind off the arena when she's there and she always schedules enough time to walk around it if she must go near the square. It looks exactly as she remembers it and Genaro is once again standing at center stage. He's a nice man, but Gracen still finds herself keeping him at arm's length. It's hard to trust anyone that comes from the Capitol anymore.

"We're here today to welcome the newest District 10 tributes," Genaro says confidently, his arms coming out to each side as if to wrap the entire district in a hug. He appears oblivious to the stiff silence beneath him, though Gracen knows he isn't. This is his job, as he explained to her last year, and he has to put on a show at the reaping. He only wants the best for the tributes. Gracen thinks he must believe this, but that doesn't mean she can. "Let's start with the young ladies. Welcome, Jayde Cassidy to the stage!"

Jayde also has to be pulled from the crowd, but she pushes the Peacekeeper away as tears stream down her face. She looks quickly behind her before another guard shoves her hard forwards. Jayde catches herself with her hands and glares back at them as her tears drip down onto the pavement. The guards pull her to her feet and escort her up to the stage. Jayde looks like she wants to resist, but something stops her and she allows them to take her to the bottom of the stairs. She pulls her hand away from Gerano, but takes her place at center stage beside him.

Gracen writes her name down and considers the girl for a moment as Gerano prepares to pull the second name. She's thin but the initial fight she put up makes Gracen think she could have some kind of ace up her sleeve. Either that or she'll be impossible to mentor. Gracen can't be sure just yet, but she puts a star next to her name anyways.

"And now, welcome Chase Hauver. Come on up."

No one moves for a moment, but the turning of heads towards the unfortunate boy soon becomes obvious. The camera zeros in on a pale brunette with a face full of freckles. At first he is looking down at the ground, but a loud gasp cuts through the air and Chase looks up with a smile. Almost instantly, the grin is wiped from his lips and Chase looks again at the ground as he is lead to the stage. He doesn't look up again until the escort nudges him and Jayde together to shake hands.

Gracen watches Chase as he offers a hand to his district partner. They're both clearly at the older end of the range and neither of them are particularly small either. She can't tell whether they seem to like each other or potentially even know each other, but it seems like a possibility that they'll get along. Chase seems quieter whereas Jayde is more impulsive, but neither is a lost cause and that's enough to latch onto. Gracen can work with that for their sake. She scribbles furiously in her notebook as the commercial break appears once again, looking back at the other tributes to try and make some kind of plan for Jayde and Chase.

Coriolanus Snow, First Son of Panem

Coriolanus stiffly sits on the couch next to his father, slightly uncomfortable to not be looking at him over the old desk. He's hardly ever been this close to Albinus, and it feels almost wrong to sit beside him now. The commercials drag on and Albinus turns to Coriolanus, but he pretends not to notice until his father addresses him.

"Quite an interesting batch this year," Albinus says simply.

"I agree," Coriolanus says with a nod. He doesn't understand what his father could possibly see in the tributes from the short introductions they've seen, but he doesn't want to argue. Coriolanus will have to see how they present themselves in the commercials and at training. At this point they could all be the same person and he would be none the wiser. The volunteers pique his interest slightly, but that's to be expected. The past two years have seen volunteers win in the arena and Coriolanus doesn't expect that trend to pass anytime soon.

"Who do you see as the front runners?" Albinus asks with a raised eyebrow. He often likes to speculate about the tributes, a new interest he's developed over the years, and Coriolanus is the only one that will entertain the notion. There are clearly right answers, with his father there always are, so it's difficult not to overthink his response. He's older now, not the trembling child that wanted to do everything to impress his father, but that doesn't mean he is willing to openly upset him.

"District 2," Coriolanus says after a brief pause. "The girl is confident and the boy is obviously strong. I think they will do wonderfully."

"They're expected to," Albinus shrugs.

"Father, who do you see as the front runners?" Coriolanus asks. It's clear that his father is disappointed in his answer, but he can't figure out a reason for that. District 2 has a strong showing, as do the other usual volunteer districts. The others are of little consequence. They've cried, cursed, and trembled just like every other year.

"It's hard to say," Albinus says. Coriolanus thinks that he might continue, but he doesn't. His attention returns to the large screen in their living room, District 11 appearing as a flush of greys and browns that makes his nose wrinkle. Albinus has always been interested in the volunteer districts 1, 2, and more recently 4. Coriolanus doesn't understand the new pull towards the other districts, especially so early in the Hunger Games. Often one or two will become favourites as the days roll on, but now it feels too early to say.

"I now join you in welcoming the newest tributes of District 11," the escort says, her smile so large it practically takes over her small face. "First we will begin with the girls. Welcome, Sadira Abdelli!"

A girl with dark curls pulled into a ponytail is pushed into the center aisle, none of the other girls wanting to be near the tainted girl any longer. An uncertain smile crosses her lips as she stares up towards the stage and Peacekeepers gather behind her. The guards do not allow her to make a decision about what to do, they just prod her until she starts moving in the correct direction. Sadira's eyes are wild as they search her surroundings, but the awkward smile does not leave her lips until she sees the escort's hand reach to pull her up the remaining steps.

"Now for the boys," the escort continues as she deposits Sadira in the middle of the stage, the tribute staring at the escort with panic in her eyes. The escort rushes over to the second bowl and snatches a slip from the top. "Welcome, Rion Dehart."

The tribute doesn't have to go far to get to the stage, in fact it's only a few steps before he is in the center aisle and then standing in front of the it. He blinks quickly, hands clenched at his sides, as he tries to hold back his tears. He's certainly younger than Sadira but standing beside her he doesn't look much smaller than her at all. Coriolanus shakes his head, it's always a bit of a shame to see the younger ones knowing that the Capitol will hardly bat an eyelash at them. They're simply not slated to do as well as the older, stronger tributes. Someone will always be at a disadvantage, Coriolanus supposes.

Rion's eyes squeeze shut as he is brought to stand beside his district partner. The escort urges them to shake hands, as is customary for the end of the reaping ceremony. Sadira looks from the escort to Rion before she takes a deep breath and extends one hand to him. Rion looks down at her arm and immediately bursts into tears, bringing both hands up to wipe them away as quickly as he can. Sadira takes one of Rion's hands from his face and steadies it with both of hers. She looks like she wants to say something, but her mouth only hangs open as tears continue to coat Rion's cheeks.

Coriolanus lets out a breath as the scene fades into the final district, a rather similar-looking place to the previous one. He's less interested in seeing the outer districts, but the intensity that his father eyes the screen with makes him sit up straighter to pay attention. Surely, he can't be thinking that either of those tributes will be front runners. Coriolanus glances briefly at Albinus, who doesn't even blink as the District 12 escort takes the stage.

"It's that time again to select the brave children that will represent District 12 in the 12th Hunger Games," the man says with a smart grin. His optimism is quite surprising, given that District 12 is one of only three districts that has yet to produce a Victor. "The lucky female tribute is Ira Adley."

It's several moments before the camera catches any movement, but soon enough a tall girl with straight hair emerges from the crowd. Even stranger, she does not cry or shout for her parents, she simply walks to the stage as if she has not a care in the world. Her face is unreadable, her cheeks not flushed or streaked with tears. Coriolanus can feel his father looking at him and he requires no words to understand what he's thinking. Even the filthiest of districts have the ability to surprise the Capitol. This girl is nothing like Coriolanus would expect from District 12.

"Not all of the Victors are from 1 and 2, remember that," Albinus says simply, his gaze returning to the screen. Coriolanus nods, though he's unsure if he is convinced. The girl is certainly peculiar, but she's still thin and appears unfit for combat. His father is correct, though, that many of the current Victors are from outer districts. Though times are changing to favour the rich districts.

Ira stand stoically at the escort's side, appearing not so much to look out at the district but to look beyond it. The escort smiles brightly at her and then moves to choose the final tribute of the day. "The lucky male tribute is Florian de Avila-Coronel."

It's easy to find Florian in the crowd as he walks stiffly through his section to reach the aisle. His eyes are wide and his face is flushed a deep red colour, but he stares straight ahead as he walks. The only movement besides his steps is the tapping of his fingers against his freshly pressed pants. Florian doesn't appear to see the escort trying to help him up the steps and he dutifully takes his place next to Ira. Neither tribute looks at the other but standing side by side it's hard not to see them as quite similar. Certainly not in looks but in temperament, two sets of eyes gazing out over the district they are set to leave.

A/N: Hello, hello. I'm back after the most hectic few days but thankfully now I have absolutely nothing to do until August so updates should return to normal. I hope you guys enjoyed hearing from two more mentors (Madina who was the Victor from my last story) as well as Mr. Snow. This is the end of reaping chapters and we will be moving into train rides next followed by the Capitol chapters. As stated prior, each tribute will get 2 POVs (1 in the first half, 1 in the second) and there will be 12 chapters of 4 POVs each.

Did any of the tribute reactions surprise you?

Which was your favourite POV?

Excited to get going with some development, as these little ones have already undergone a pretty big life change from the pre-reapings. Always good to hear your thoughts on the chapters, so review if you have the time please!

PS. Always remember that BLM and ACAB. Please continue donating, signing petitions, calling local government offices because change still needs to happen. There is a lot of work to still be done and I hope we are all in this for the long haul.

~ Olive