Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games. They belong to Suzanne Collins.
Note: Here we are, the start of the next decade of Hunger Games and the first canon Victor on the list. I've always had a soft spot for Mags and thought she was a really lovely character. I mean, volunteering to save Annie despite knowing she had zero chance to win? Sheer selflessness and bravery. What kind of arena could her tale have originated in? ...How about we find out? :D
Katniss looked down at Mags' portrait upon the sidewalk with a respectful sort of smile.
"A brave woman right to the end," Katniss said, impressed. "Volunteering, walking to that fog so we could all have a chance to keep going... rest in peace."
"Rest in peace," Peeta echoed, his smile soft and distant. "We only knew her for a while, but... I don't know, I wanted to know her better. I bet she was a wonderful person."
"Haymitch certainly had nothing bad to say about her, and you know he excels at saying bad things about people," Katniss said with a snicker. "Safe voyage Mags."
"Safe voyage," Peeta echoed once again.
11th Annual Hunger Games
Name: Mags Flanagan
Gender: Female
District: 4
Age: 16
Kills: 3
Museida was not a happy young man. He never had been and did not expect that he ever would be. Eight years on from his time in the arena and he still hadn't begun to feel like his old self, not even for a moment. The nightmares, the physically painful feelings of regret, the sound the girl from Two made when he'd accidentality crushed her beneath the shell of the hermit crab. It was all so raw and fresh. He had no delusions that it would be like this for the rest of his days.
The Capitol, in his opinion, had nothing but delusions. The idea that they were happy to be in the Games. The belief they loved their overlords. The opinion the Victors were more than happy to support the Games at each and every turn.
Perhaps the tenth Victor, that patriot freak whom Museida hated so very much. But besides her? None that he could think of, not even Baron and Runa. How ironic that the one who started the sick Career trend by accident had ended up as his best friend come Hunger Games season.
Museida would be content to just live alone in his house and never come out. Most of the year he could do so. But not during the summer when the next Hunger Games loomed near. As the sole Victor of District Four it fell to him to Mentor the next two corpses trying to avoid their fate.
That was why on a fine summer day he sat on the stage at the reaping ceremony, not bothering to hide the unpleasant sneer on his face. He barely gave a grunt of acknowledgement when his name was read out during the treaty of treason. The sooner the kids were reaped, the sooner he could start getting this over with for another year.
"Magnolia Flanagan," trilled out the Escort. Museida had never bother to remember the name of the man, preferring to just call him 'nimrod' in his mind.
The victor watched as a curly haired young women exited the sixteen year olds section and mounted the stage.
"My name is Mags, get it right shiny," the girl huffed, giving the Escort a sulky sort of glare.
"Uh, of course... mags, then," the Escort said, stumbling over his words.
Museida snickered at the way the Escort stammered before moving over to the boy's reaping bowl.
"Marlin Pelleck!"
A bronze skinned boy walked out of the sixteen year olds section and took the stage in silence. He didn't bother to speak to the escort, merely flexing and growling for the camera.
Musieda just shook his head, wondering which of the two was gonna have their cannon fire first. After the way the patriot from Two had been inspiring her District, so said the news on his personal TV, it was a sure thing that Two was going to be on one hell of a power trip. They advantage was only going to get more and more outrageous as time went by.
"Unless I fuck it up for them real quick," Museida muttered to himself, hardly watching as his tributes shook hands. "They'll have to do."
Museida watched as the tributes were led into the Judgement Building. He didn't miss the way Mags sneakily pick pocketed several caps from one of the Peacekeepers, though the Peacekeeper himself sure did. Deep down, Museida had a gut feeling that Mags was who he should put his focus towards.
His gut feelings were never wrong.
"What can you do?" Museida asked them on the train. "I can't help you if you cannot even help yourselves. Skills, now."
"Brute strength, swimming, fishing, intimidation and harpoons," Marlin listed, counting down on his fingers.
"You're dead," Museida said, simply. He turned to Mags. "What can you do?"
"Hey, what the hell?" Marlin asked, his face reddening. "I just told you five damn good reasons I'm going to be the one who lives. How am I dead?"
"Obvious threat, no subtlety. With Olga's influence on Two, I guarantee they will be hunting down the strongest competition first," Museida said, shrugging. "That is, unless you can join them."
Marlin looked mixed between thoughtful and angry as he considered this. Museida then repeated his question to Mags.
"I can make fishing hooks, weave baskets, sneak around and... well, is making good soup a talent?" Mags asked, shrugging.
"Could be. Depends on the arena," Museida said. "Ok, I think there is a slight, I repeat slight, chance that you may not be dead. But, it won't be easy."
"Is it ever easy?" Mags replied.
"Only if you sell out your soul and become a lapdog," Museida said, scoffing. "Do not do that. Ok, here's the plan."
Museida pointed to Marlin first, instructing him to try and join the inevitable 'Career killer' alliance and, if he failed, make sure he was fast enough to flee the Bloodbath. He then pointed to Mags and told her to hide beneath notice and learn to use some kind of a weapon.
The tributes both agreed, of course, but Museida had a feeling that they had plans of their own in mind.
The parade this year had a slight alteration done to it, that being that President Orion had given the Capitol citizens the all clear to toss in roses, coins and other such trinkets to show support to their favourite tributes. It was an unspoken rule that rocks were permitted, though not favoured.
It was little surprise that the chariots of One and Two had many roses and coins, while the chariots of the Districts that lacked any Victors at all had to make do with the odd half-wilted rose or a pebble.
"Too bad we can't throw anything at them," Mags muttered with a shake of her head. "Disgusting, right?"
"I don't see why we can't," Marlin replied. "I swear, if they throw anything at me that isn't shiny or ripe roses then-."
Marlin was cut off as a pebble came his way. He caught it as it bounced off his forehead, a bruise left in its place.
"Keepsake?" Mags asked, teasing.
"I'd rather return it to its owner," Marlin grunted.
With that, Marlin hurled the pebble at the audience with all the skill of a professional baseball pitcher. The sound of breaking teeth and screaming began to follow. By the time the parade ended and Orion gave his yearly brief speech the citizens were howling for Marlin's execution. Mags slowly inched away from the boy beside her, glancing around awkwardly.
"I do not know this person," she announced as the tributes were taken into the tribute building.
Museida was torn between shaking his head and laughing at what he had seen. One thing was certain, he had a pair with potential this year. And, looking at Olga fuming further down the line of Victors, one of his tributes was likely to be a target for the Twos.
Never anger a patriot, that was the best thing to keep in mind when dealing with Olga Machete.
Museida could not control what his tributes did during training, merely give them suggestions. While Mags and Marlin went down to learn the skills and, ideally, not end up with every other tribute wanting them to be the first two dead, he headed out to work on one of his least favourite parts of the job.
Finding Sponsors.
While it was typical for some wealthy Capitol citizens to approach the mentors and associated Hunger Games staff to send in supplies once the tributes were in the arena, the best odds of keeping a tribute alive came from finding sponsors before the Games actually began. That was why, on this summer afternoon, Museida found himself at the sponsor square.
He sighed as he stood before the golden gates that led into the rich, gaudy gardens that housed all of the Hunger Games fanatic meetings.
"Well, the hairs on the back of my neck are standing up and my palms just got sweaty... stupid Capitolites must be very nearby," Musieda sighed, sucking it up. "Do it for the tributes. Do it so you don't have to mentor two kids at once next year..."
Museida straightened out his jacket and entered the sponsor square. It wasn't more than a minute before the rich smell of perfume had him gagging and the sight of the pampered, prissy crowds had him wanting to stow away on the next train back to Four.
"Hey Museida," Mizar said, greeting his friend with a polite wave. "Here to get some sponsors for your pair?"
"Why else would I come here?" Museida replied, dull.
"Uh... yeah, good point and well made," Mizar said, awkward. "I'm not getting anywhere right now. Most of the sponsors are wanting to go for Two this year."
"Let me guess, Olga's work?" Museida asked, shaking his head.
"The Capitol loves a patriot," Mizar said with a helpless sort of shrug. "If you want my advice, put your stock into Mags. I don't think Marlin's stunt at the parade is gonna win him any favour."
"It won favour with me at least," Museida said, unable to hide a smirk. "Kid has guts."
"Yeah... guts these people want to see torn out," Mizar replied, shaking his head. "Well, good luck Museida. Too bad we can't sponsor our own tributes."
Mizar took his leave, trying to convince a rich couple to invest into the life of the baker boy and field-hand girl from Nine. Museida took one look around at all the spoiled citizens, another at the crowd surrounding the trio from Two and a last look at how all the other Victors, aside Peridot, were being ignored.
He left the sponsor square not long after that, a sly smirk on his face as he headed for the grand library of the Capitol.
By the time he got back to the tribute building it was almost time for the day of training to come to an end. He'd not sat down to read his book - The Hunger Games Rulebook for five minutes. After chuckling in triumph at what he saw Mags and Marlin returned, the former in relatively high spirits given the situation and the latter with a black eye.
"...You know, the Games don't start yet. Just felt you might appreciate the reminder," Museida said, shaking his head.
"The boy from Two said his mentor told him to," Marlin replied, heading for the fridge for some ice. "I'll get him back."
Marlin soon headed off to get some rest. That was when Museida sat Mags down, ready to tell her the good news. Or at least, some of it.
"I found you a sponsor," Museida said, a deep smirk crossing his face. "If you need anything in the arena, just name it or sketch it out in the dirt. A camera will see you no matter where you are. Your sponsors will make sure you get anything you need."
"You look like a guy who has a bit of a secret plan going on," Mags remarked, chuckling. "Almost makes you look like me."
"Secret plan?" Museida asked.
"I ain't telling. But let me tell you this, watch the soup," Mags said, stretching out. "So, any pointers for the interview?"
"Pointers?" Museida asked, curious.
"Yeah, how do I make 'em not hate me?" Mags asked. "Do they like 'rough and tumble' gals from Four? Because that's kind of what I am."
"Let me phrase it like this... do not do what Marlin does," Museida said, a hint of pleading to his tone.
Mags considered this point for a moment.
"...How could I? I'm going on before him?" Mags said, teasing. "Shouldn't he just copy me?"
Museida groaned, knowing it was going to be a long Games season this year.
As this was in the days prior to interview prep there were interviews every year that simply did not pass as what one may call 'successful' or even 'barely past salvageable'. However, some of what went down in this particular year caused every Games from the twelfth onwards to have the etiquette teaching.
It all started to go a bit wrong when it got to Mags.
"So, how do you feel about going into the arena?" Mortimer asked. "Scared? Spine tingled? Missing mommy?"
"You seem interested," Mags noted, a sly smirk upon her face. "It's almost like you want to be a tribute in my place. Wanna swap?"
While not a statement of outright rebellion, the way this made Mortimer stumble and lose his words for several long moments was not soon to be forgotten. Neither was Mags casually picking her nose at the two minute mark of the interview.
"What?" Mags asked, wiping the snot on her pants. "You guys drink that vomit cola stuff so you can keep eating. What's a nose nugget next to puddles of puke?"
The fact was that Mags had a solid point, but tributes were not meant to make points. That is, aside from sword-points stuck into the bodies of other tributes. It was deemed that she was just being cheeky, not rebellious per-say, and so she wasn't sentenced to a more likely death than she already was. All the same, Orion gave the order for future etiquette training and to keep an eye on the fisher girl.
It was Marlin's interview that really crossed the line though and led to every interview thereafter being held in a less open space with much beefier security. Before the days of a studio set, the grand park was where the 'magic' happened... and one could say Marlin said some magic words that night.
"I'm gonna hunt down some patriots in the arena," Marlin said, his arms crossed firmly. "I'm not scared of them, specifically. Any fears I have in the Games, it's not coming from what District Two has to offer. Whether it's a sword or my black eye."
"Isn't fighting illegal though?" Mortimer asked, enthralled.
"Only if you get caught, I guess," Marlin said, sitting up straighter. "Whatever, I'm ready to go any time you are. No sense worrying about the inevitable. I'm strong, I can win this thing."
"Can you though?" Mortimer continued. "You behaved pretty badly at the parade, Marlin. You hurt a poor, innocent man. Perhaps your odds may be better if you apologise?"
Marlin paused, considered this.
"I can't," Marlin said. "I'm not sorry and do you want me to be a liar and a murderer?"
Mortimer should have just dropped it, but it was his job to grill the tributes and extract some facts. It was later agreed that he did his job far too well on the one occasion he should have just not done a thing.
"How can you not feel sorry?" Mortimer hissed.
"They threw the pebble at me and kidnapped me from Four to kill people. Why should I feel sorry?" Marlin asked, shrugging.
A riot followed that, cutting Marlin's interview short by half a minute. Several Capitol citizens ended up well and truly thumped during the interview and Marlin had to help throw one man off of the stage when Mortimer started to freak out and accidentally slapped the man.
"I don't know this boy!" Mags yelled from backstage, having stuck around to watch the carnage play out.
"Yes you do!" Marlin huffed.
"Uh, no, I am really sure that I don't!" Mags insisted.
After that fiasco Arendellian from Five was very much halfway to being an afterthought, if that. All that was on the minds of the citizens was anger and hurt feelings. Oh, and their sore bodies as well.
All that was on the mind of Orion, however, was how to dispose of the boy and that, next year, the interviews would be far stricter to prevent something like this from happening again. Already many ideas were bubbling in the tubby tyrant's mind and not a single one was nice
When Mags got her first look at the arena that year she couldn't help but laugh out in triumph. Marlin and, from his spot in the mentoring room, Museida were very much the same. If there was a year to belong to District Four then it was this one.
It was a ship yard.
The tributes were launched upon the top deck of the largest boat in the ship yard by the bay, the Rusty Bucket. The name was apt as it, and many of the other boats, were rather rusted and all kinds of ill maintained. Mags found herself wondering if this boat was soon to begin sinking.
She'd find out soon enough as the countdown reached zero sooner than later. As the gong sounded Mags did not bother sticking around for the action. She grabbed a loaf of bread from the foot of her pedestal and leapt over the side of the boat, swimming off like a torpedo towards one of the smaller boats in the ship yard.
Her choice served her well as this year's pack of Careers were of the silent but deadly variety. Ten were dead within the first two minutes, the pair from Six being the first ones to fall per Olga's orders to her tributes, and Marlin as the third with his throat cut wide open by the boy from One. Many tributes abandoned their supplies and ran away, but it soon became clear that jumping into the water was a bad move if a tribute lacked the swimming prowess that Mags had.
A shark mutt was in the water, one that seemed to emit a rather foreboding sort of song every time it opened its massive jaws.
The girl from Eight found out about the mutt in the hardest way possible, while the pack of Four wasted no time gearing up and moving out to cover ground. Per Olga's instruction, they were not to waste any time in case their prey escaped and later on deprived them of the chance to take them out.
While the Careers got to work with deadly efficiency and reduced the number of living tributes down to ten during the dead of night, Mags got to work on her own plan. She asked her sponsor for a harpoon and supplies to make some fine fish soup. It was all delivered promptly and so she began to get to work on cooking up a plan... literally.
All the while, the Careers hunted slow and menacingly throughout the night.
Museida watched the screen, wiping a sweat off of his face with a rag. He had to admit, the Avox's provided some excellent service. He'd have willingly given them a tip if not for the fact it would've got them in trouble.
Mags was still alive as of the third day, more than seventeen of the tributes could say at this point. The remaining seven tributes had scattered around the arena. More specifically, the Outliers had scattered and the quiet, deadly pack of four were sweeping the arena in one slow hunt for those who remained. It seemed inevitable that they would find her eventually, especially as now there were twenty sharks in the water, each one thirsty for blood. Escape via swimming was no longer anything but a suicide method.
"Come on, keep going," Museida muttered, watching Mags upon the screens.
At present his tribute had ran back to the Cornucopia upon the Rusty Bucket, refilling on food and water. With the pack over a mile away, searching around a smaller boat – the 'Piece of Ship' – it left Mags free to do as she liked with the supplies. Her choice, of course, was to steal them.
"Smart, smart," Museida whispered. "...Dumb, dumb!"
Mags wasn't turning tail and running off like he had expected. Instead she had laid down her bowl of soup and was calmly mixing it. Using a lighter from amongst the cornucopia supplies she began to warm it up nicely.
"Notebook and pencil please," Mags called to the sky.
It wasn't even a minute before Museida had opened his wallet and sent down the requested items. He had no need for the surplus of cash he had, so why not do some charity? Mags wrote out a quick note of some kind, one that the cameras couldn't pick up.
"What's she doing?" Honorius asked from his seat beside Museida. With both of his tributes dead he was stuck hanging around until it all ended. "Giving up and having a last meal?"
"I don't think so," Museida said. "She's a tough one... though, honestly? I have no fucking clue what her plan is."
Museida tensed, seeing the pack returning to the Cornucopia on another screen. The smug look on Olga's face and look of pure professionalism in Peridot's eyes had him scowling. As much as he liked Baron and didn't mind Runa, the way 'their sort' tended to act had him feeling bitter more often than not.
"Your tributes look tired Olga," he heard Mizar say.
"Tired, but successful. They're about to knock this down to the final six and eliminate District Four," Olga said, calm as a gentle breeze. "Just watch."
"I'd honestly rather not," Mizar said, turning away to focus on the boy from Nine. "Come on..."
While the boy from Nine stumbled deliriously from the fumes of the rusty bucket's engine room the Careers made their way back, closer with every second. True to Mizar's word, they looked fairly exhausted.
"He's right... they seem tired..." Pliny yawned, hardly awake herself.
"You can't judge that," Olga said, snickering.
"She can't, but I can," Fir added with a giggle. "They're sawing so many logs you'd think they were from my District!"
On screen Mags suddenly poured the contents of a small bottle into the soup. She bolted away and leapt over the side of the boat. Grabbing onto a rope she swung herself towards a small lifeboat, starting to paddle it towards the docks. Unaware their prey had vanished the Careers came back and relaxed, intending to take a quick five minute break.
"How many left to go?" Karma from Two asked, sipping some of her water.
"Still three," her District Partner, a large boy by the name of Thaddius replied. "Boy from Nine, Girl from Four... who was the other one?"
"Girl from Five," was the reply given by Awesome from One. "She's tiny, she won't last much longer."
"Wish we could sleep," Caramel, also from One, grumbled. "Been days with just brief naps... hey, smell that?"
The Careers all crowded around the bow of soup, eager for something more than just the arena rations. One look at the sponsor note seemed to tell them that it was sponsored to Awesome.
"...Oh, stop looking at me like that," he said, rolling his eyes. "Looks big enough to us to all have a share. I'll go first as it's mine and then we'll go down through kill count."
"So, I'm last?" Caramel asked, annoyed.
"Fair is fair," Awesome shrugged.
Awesome took a few deep gulps and passed the bowl to Thor. Soon it was passed to Karma, who gagged for a moment.
"Bitter aftertaste. Must be eel or something," she said, wiping her lips.
Caramel was a moment away from taking a gulp of what was left in the bowl, only stopping when Awesome fell down in a bit of gasping and choking. Second later Thor and Karma did the same, the trio of Careers dead within the next two minutes from the rather potent, toxic boat fuel mixed in with the fishy soup.
Caramel was quick to get moving after that, searching for her final few opponents. Up in the control room Museida applauded, laughing in triumph at Mags' clever move. One look down the desks set up told him all he needed to know.
Olga was infuriated and a plan like what Mags did was unlikely to be fallen for until at least a decade had past. It didn't matter to him, as it had kept his tribute alive all the same. He couldn't help feeling confused, though, at how Peridot was wholly unaffected by what happened.
"...I never liked that boy," she said, shrugging. "If you were a noble in One and grew up in the Flawless Estate you'd get it. I prefer mentoring non-nobles, myself."
The Games dragged on towards the fifth day with the final four still varying degrees of alive. The large ship yard made hunting for each other a fairly difficult task, one that the Gamemakers were happy to assist in speeding up.
The docks crumbled and the boats sank under the grimy dock water.
It had come right on cue, really. One moment Mags had been forced into a duel against Caramel, one that was as brutal as the fish hook flail she was using against her foe's face, but it seemed destined to end in her death.
The way the boat started to turn over midway through the battle and suddenly the tributes had no care except to stay on solid ground. Mags had used her weaving skills to make a small boat entirely out of wiring from within various boats, having deemed the lifeboats as not seaworthy.
Caramel had no such boat and thus it wasn't ten minutes before she sank under the filthy water, thus leaving another noble house driven into bloodline extinction out of greed and desire for having a Victor in the family.
While Mags floated in her boat and Arendellian scrambled her tiny self into a rickety lifeboat it left Branner from Nine to scramble up to the crowd's nest of the sinking Rusty Bucket. Even with his shelter gradually sinking it seemed he had enough high ground to win.
Well, it did until the mast broke and the sharks got him.
With Mags and Arendellian nowhere near each other it was a matter of surviving the raging waves and snarling sharks trying to capsize them for as long as it took.
One boat overturned, its passenger swiftly devoured in an instant. When the trumpets sounded and the Hovercraft came down for the Victor it wasn't for Arendellian.
"Get out of here! Bugger off!" Mags yelled, shaking a bloodsoaked fist at one of the sharks gazing hungrily up at her.
"So, who was the sponsor you found for me?" Mags later asked, sitting at a table at the side of the Capitol party. "I owe them my life."
"Oh really? What would you do for them?" Museida asked, curious as he poured himself a drink.
"Give them a hug, for one thing," Mags said, downing a glass of juice in one gulp.
Museida set down his drink and opened his arms, smiling genuinely for the first time in years.
"Well then, let's hug it out," he said, chuckling. "It was me all along."
It was only a minute or two after Mags had flung her arms around her Mentor that a thought occurred to her. One about the legalities of what Museida had done.
"Are you allowed to do that? Use your own money to sponsor me?" Mags asked, unsure.
"I mean, too late now if I'm not," Museida said, shrugging. "Everybody else is dead last time I checked."
To this Mag let out a very uncomfortable sort of laugh, accepting this response.
"I think we're going to get along just fine," Mags said, smiling. "Best neighbours ever?"
"Eh, maybe. But I agree, I think we'll get along," Museida said, a smile crossing his face again.
"Oh, fair warning, I host rave parties every friday. That gonna be a problem?" Mags asked, mischief filling her eyes.
Museida's smile vanished.
"I should've saved Marlin," he said, flatly.
Soon though, he and Mags were laughing again. Even a formal, vicious warning from Orion was unable to ruin his mood. After all, true to Musida's claim, there was no rule written down sayign a mentor could not sponsor their own tribute.
Starting from the Twelfth Hunger Games there was such a rule. This, and a lack of Gamemaker mercy towards tributes from Four that lasted for a grim stretch of time.
"Think there might have been any way that Mags could have survived the Quell?" Katniss asked, as she and Peeta kept walking. "Guess I'm just thinking, maybe if we did something a little difference there may have been another survivor... I gotta stop thinking of such what ifs."
"I should too. It's maddening," Peeta agreed. "I don't know, maybe... maybe if we had gone counter clockwise in the arena during the first night? We'll never know."
"Honestly, it'd only take one little change for us to have both died in our first Hunger Games," Katniss said, perturbed by the thought.
The pair soon came to the next Victor upon the lengthy sidewalk. The imprinted face of a sallow cheeked boy with thick glasses looked back up at them, his hair fairly stringy and unkempt.
"Shunt," Katniss noted, reading the name beneath the face. "The first tribute to use fire itself as a deliberate weapon, right?"
"Can't say I remember," Peeta replied. "If you're right though, it seems you weren't the only tribute who ignited a bit of a spark."
There we go, done with our first canon Victor. Like I said, I've always liked Mags, the selfless old lady who essentially tossed her life aside for poor Annie. That kind of sheer bravery and love is to be admired. Here though, we can see she was a right handful in her youth, one with a cool mentor and a good set of smarts in her mind. Expect her to pop up again from time to time!
Stats
District 1: Peridot Gaudy (8th Games)
District 2: Baron Overwhill (4th Games), Runa Peace (7th Games), Olga Machete (10th Games)
District 3: Honorius Perthshire (5th Games)
District 4: Museida Selkirk (3rd Games), Mags Flanagan (11th Games)
District 5: N/A
District 6: N/A
District 7: Pliny Aransio (2nd Games), Fir Buzz (9th Games)
District 8: N/A
District 9: Mizar Aldjoy (1st Games)
District 10: N/A
District 11: N/A
District 12: Duke Saint-Rose (6th Games)