Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games. They belong to Suzanne Collins.
Note: Been a while since the last update, huh? What can I say? Life happens, what with emotions, job hunting, novel writing and the like. One could call me a 'stressedmite', heheh. Still, finally got time to get the next Victor done. If you like arrogant douchebags then this guy is the one for you! :D
"Seems like an arrogant sort of guy, judging by his face on the ground," Peeta said, crossing his arms. "Or am I being too judgemental?"
"Us humans are a judgemental bunch," Katniss replied, shrugging. "We're all a bit prejudiced when you get down to it."
"I guess you have a point," Peeta conceded. "You know, I'm surprised District One took this long to have their third Victor. They were always so dominate when we were growing up."
"I guess they had some false starts and teething pains before they become unbearable to go against," Katniss said with a shrug. "I guess Bronze only furthered their support for the Games and training up lethal kids."
"If nothing else he sure helped his home out a lot," Peeta said, wincing. "Not that it did our home much good."
19th Annual Hunger Games
Name: Bronze Marley
Gender: Male
District: 1
Age: 16
Kills: 7
Bronze Marley was a complete asshole.
Not every Victor in the history of Panem was a person who could be considered nice. Even those like Mizar and Pliny who only killed once, and those like Bentley who only caused accidental kills, were still marked down as murderers. But Bronze, even among other arrogant Careers, was a touch above the rest in his sheer capacity for being a douchebag.
Legend tells that he's the reason Peridot soundproofed her house and why nobody ever moved into the houses either side of his own within the District One Victor Village. He was just that much of a dick.
He was arrogant, he was cocky, he was smug, he revelled in showing his superiority in increasingly overblown and cruel ways, he cared nothing for those he saw as beneath him (everybody) and he was a shameless womaniser.
He didn't give a shit about any of this, just smugly claiming that everybody else was jealous of him. He'd never lost at anything before and, just a few months after his sixteenth birthday, decided that the Nineteenth Hunger Games would be no different.
Panem got their first true look at Bronze when he swaggered up to the stage, waving and posing for the crowd. He went so far as to take the mic and, completely ignoring his District Partner and how he'd stolen the spot of the boy the academy had chosen, vowed that he was going to win and the other tributes may as well kill themselves to save him some time.
"In two weeks tops I won't be 'Bronze', I'll be Gold," he said, a sly smirk adorned upon his face.
Crystal and Peridot, the two Victors District One had in those days, had glanced at each other and done rock-paper-scissors to decide who would have to mentor Bronze.
"Bugger!" Crystal swore, having done paper and Peridot done scissors.
"Oh thank goodness," Peridot muttered, shaking her head.
Things did not get any better on the tribute train. Indeed, while Peridot and the female tribute, Bliss, had retreated to the back carriage for some semblance of peace and quiet, Crystal found herself stuck with Bronze. By all accounts, her attempts at mentoring him were for naught.
"Get lost, I don't need any help," Bronze said, sneering. "I've got this in the bag. You didn't even win right, you literally died for a few minutes after they got you out. You say you saw some kind of paradise? What, did you see teddy bears too?"
"Hey, I know what I saw," Crystal replied, defensive. "It was really nice and heavenly and-."
"Don't care, it's not about me," Bronze said, yawning and stretching out. "Get me some grapes, would you?"
In the end Bronze caused Crystal so much stress from his dickish behaviour that she had another heart attack and required the train staff to use the defibrillators on her. It was clear that Crystal wasn't going to be able to do much mentoring of any sort for a boy like Bronze.
She was more than fine with this, glad to be away from him and have free time to raid the cookie jar on the train.
The parade was typically the first place any tribute would be able to grab sponsors to keep themselves alive when the arena arrived, a time where many tributes would smile, wave and go absolutely all out in order to get whatever support they possibly could. Typically there was always a tribute or two that absolutely stole the show.
Bronze didn't steal the show. No, that would be too weak a term for what happened. He outright committed the robbery of the century with the parade.
From the moment the District One chariot was in view of the audience the other tributes had almost no chance. Bronze waved, blew kisses, fist pumped, humped the air, yelled support for the Capitol, told the citizens he loved them and promised a hot night with whoever sent him the best sponsor gift. He had the Capitol crowd in the absolute palm of his hand with hardly any effort required.
Even Orion, giving his brief yearly speech, couldn't help but feel the boy had a natural gift for performing. He was wasted in the Districts, but such was Panem.
It was only an entire hour after the parade had ended that Bronze ceased his robust, almost sensual, performance of showing off and excessive air humping. Crystal ended up needing the defibrillators once again.
Bronze showed off his skills with swords and maces flawlessly in the training centre. He breezed through everything that he attempted, making it look easy and never once passing up the chance to laugh at the weaker Outliers. It was one of those years where just about every Outlier was particularly feeble, no chance of shocking powerhouses like Isobel from the year prior.
"Ha, pathetic," Bronze laughed, pointing mockingly at the girl from Six as she fell off the climbing frame and broke her hand. "You taking my advice to kill yourself early? Smart choice."
The girl, having been resigned to her fate from the moment her name was drawn, went down as the first tribute to seriously piss Bronze off.
"If you're the best then why is your name Bronze? Doesn't that make you third best?" she choked out, wearily standing up.
Bronze began to snarl like a mutt, practically frothing at the mouth. It was a fact that he tended to fly off the handle and get into fits of rage if his superiority was questioned. Sure enough, while the girl from Six was led off to be checked over, Bronze destroyed a grand total of forty seven dummies and snapped over a dozen spears over his leg before he came halfway towards calming down.
Bliss and the pair from Two, Sextus and Vi, could only stare in shock and a bit of embarrassment at the severe tantrum their egomaniac ally was throwing while the Outliers were torn between fear and feeling awkward.
The Gamemakers merely sipped fine wine and made notes on what they were seeing. It was agreed that at bare minimum the boy deserved a nine for his impressive outburst.
Bronze would have been offended to hear this; he was going for a perfect twelve, dammit.
No tributes got any sleep on the night that the scores were announced. From the moment the show began it was all downhill. Bronze was awarded a nine and his screaming and shouting at this so-called 'blasphemy' went on for hours. Poor Bliss was unable to enjoy the fact she earned a nine too due to how Bronze's screaming fit outright intimidated her.
It only got worse when Sextus scored an eleven and Vi scored a ten. Being outshone by his allies has the arrogant boy howling in rage and spitting in hatred. How dare they, he kept yelling over and over. Even the fact most of the Outliers had pitiful scores didn't improve Bronze's mood in any significant way.
After all, the fact Ridge from District Twelve had been the only strong Outlier and had tied Bronze's score was nothing short of a personal offence to the boy from One.
Crystal ended up needing the defibrillators used on her again.
The interviews of the Nineteenth Hunger Games were a fairly mixed bag, full of highs and lows. Bronze went all out to ensure that he was seen as the absolute highlight of the show and it seemed that by all accounts he had succeeded. Everybody loved the boy from the family of silversmiths.
"Yeah, I stole the spot of the nobody that the academy selected," Bronze said, reclining in the chair beside Mortimer's own like he owned the place. "But I did him a favour really. I saved his life; he'd have just ended up like the other eighteen boys from One you've already seen die."
"How generous and kind of you," Mortimer remarked. "What makes you so sure that you're going to end up differently than those boys before you? Any secret skills or talents?"
"It's quite simple really," Bronze said, giving the audience a sly wink. "I'm me and they weren't."
The crowd lapped it all up and seemed really disappointed when the buzzer went off, ending Bronze's interview. He swaggered off, making fingers gun to the crowd, knowing he was going to be the highlight of the night.
Of course, seeing the audience responding with cheers and approval to Sextus and Vi had him feeling angry all over again. Bronze was not a boy that liked to be outshone and he did not want anybody thinking that a single other person had anything over him. He was number one and felt as ready as he possibly could be to prove this to the nation.
He knew exactly how he was going to accomplish this.
Bronze showed no fear as he was launched into the arena alongside the other twenty three tributes. He just waved to the cameras, making a few seductive faces of sheer arrogance and cockiness. He received the bulk of the screentime as the countdown ticked closer towards zero.
The Gamemakers had gone a step beyond the tried and true forest terrain this year, instead settling upon a thick jungle. The place was vastly overgrown and incredibly humid from the moment the tributes were exposed to the jungle air. It was shaping up to be a year where dehydration deaths would be a very real possibility for those unable to secure water.
Bronze had no such worries, having been so confident and certain of Victory from the very start. What reason what there to worry about anything when he was so self assured of his skills.
He didn't bother to make a charge at the Cornucopia, instead choosing to strut his way into the fray. He just smiled and waved to the cameras, hardly phased by the screams of agony and despair that filled the air. Roland from Eight tried to tackle him, but Bronze merely had to punch him in the throat and, without pausing from waving at the cameras, stomped hard onto the poor boy's neck.
Not a single camera missed the crack.
By the time the dust settled Bronze took a grand bow for the crowd and, without turning around, smashed his mace upon the skull of the girl from Ten as she tried to sneak up on him with a knife. The kill was instantaneous.
"What a rush!" Bronze laughed, twirling his mace in his hand. "Fun, right guys?"
"You could say that," Vi replied, wiping her spiked whip clean of blood with a rag. "Only eight kills. Fucking weak."
"Hey, not my fault. I got two of those kills," Bronze said, shrugging. "And as you lot got one each that'd mean three Outliers killed too... geez, I thought they were hopeless."
"Actually, I got four kills," Sextus stated, pausing from his chugging of a water bottle. "I got four, you got two and the girls got one each."
Sextus turned away to check over the rack of spears, missing the truly murderous look in Bronze's eyes. He seethed, his mouth almost starting to froth.
"Second best... I'm second best...?" Bronze grinded his teeth together, his left eye twitching.
"Oh come on, get over yourself," Bliss said with a shrug. "You're still alive, aren't you? That's the main thing. Last one standing is the one who is best, no matter who they are. I mean, Pliny won terribly but she was still the best that year."
"Oh, don't remind me," Sextus groaned, shaking his head. "That year was just embarrassing to watch at the academy. Olga told us any tribute of hers who does that gets kicked out of Two."
"Can she do that?" Bliss asked.
"Olga has a lot of power. People love her," Vi said with a shrug, bending over to reach into a crate. "Cool, gotta be like three dozen water bottles in here."
"Make sure those are protected," Sextus said, moving to look over the water. "It's humid as fuck, we need that water."
Bronze balled his fists until his knuckles were white. All he could focus on was how Sextus kept upstaging him and how he wasn't going to stand for it. Not for a single moment!
The Careers left Bliss as the guard, heading out through the jungle with Sextus leading the way. Naturally, having to follow the lead of another only made arrogant Bronze even more annoyed.
The humidity did not help with this. The Careers were sweating, going through their water supply quicker than they would have wanted to. Still, Bronze could see two upsides to the unpleasant jungle conditions.
The fact Sextus clearly hated it and how it allowed Bronze to show off his shirtless form. Bronze flexed, smirking knowingly over how the Capitol audience were sure to love it.
A cannon fired after five hours of hunting. They hadn't known it until the anthem, but the girl from Five had been the first to succumb to dehydration, having literally ran herself to death.
"Fifteen left," Vi noted. "We gonna keep going?"
"Obviously. I'm not letting anybody steal my kills," Bronze said, snorting. "Not even sundown yet."
It wasn't long after that when Vi declared she needed to stop to take a piss. While Vi left the area Bronze began to patrol around as Sextus paused to sip more water. Bronze glared at the tougher boy, hatred filling his eyes.
His hatred reached dangerous levels when Sextus casually punched the tree he was next to, knocking the girl from Three out of her hiding spot. One quick stab from Sextus' sword and little Beeper was dead.
"Five, not bad," Sextus remarked. "Fourteen left, Bronze, we're doing-URK!"
He got no further before Bronze, well and truly pissed off from the kill stealing and upstaging, sunk his dagger right into Sextus' neck. Sextus slumped over like a ragdoll, moaning horribly until his cannon fired a few seconds later. Bronze wasted no time in placing the blood-soaked dagger by Beeper's body.
Bronze smirked, winking for the cameras, and forced a look of rattled panic onto his face when Vi came running back not long after that. The girl from Two looked frantically at the sight, bewildered by what she was seeing.
"Explain!" she shrieked, hardly able to get the word out at all.
"That little runt jumped Sextus from the tree. I tried to get her off but by the time I killed her she'd already stabbed him in the neck," Bronze lied, shaking his head. "Such a damn waste. I'm sorry Vi, I wasn't fast enough... fuck."
"Well... he'd have had to die eventually," Vi said, moving to collect Sextus' belongings. "Only one Victor, and he was a threat. We all knew it."
"Can't say I disagree," Bronze said as he moved behind Vi. "Only one Victor."
One moment Vi was looking at Sextus' token – a family photo – and the next moment she slumped over, her skull smashed with one powerful swing from Bronze's mace. She let out a pitiful whimper as the grim reaper claimed her.
"And it won't be you, it'll be me," Bronze said, smirking widely from cheek to cheek. "Nothing personal. Just can't have anybody outshining me on my path from greatness to super greatness."
Bronze pilfered the bodies of all their food and water, soon moving on with a spring in his step and a cheerful whistle passing his lips. He felt more confident than ever that he had things in the bag.
Bronze returned to the Cornucopia at midday of day three. Two more cannons had fired by then, one from dehydration claiming the girl from Nine and the other from tough Ridge being torn apart by a fearsome bear mutt.
Bronze had a wide smirk on his face as he sauntered back to the Cornucopia, one he quickly wiped away when Bliss made her way over to him.
"Where were you? What happened?" she asked, looking a touch out of it from the isolation.
"Bear attack," Bronze let out his best sigh. "It happened so fast. One moment we're chasing after the girl from Three. Next moment Sextus kills her and gets jumped by a bear mutt. He was dead before I could do anything and by the time the battle was over Vi was dead too. I've been lost for days, trying to find my way back here."
Bronze made a show of kicking over a crate, muttering. He glanced back at Bliss, narrowing his eyes.
"Those bears are bad news," the braggart said. "Don't try and mess with them unless you're as awesome as I am."
"I guess I'll be fine then," Bliss said, rolling her eyes. "So, what are we gonna do? Still eight others out there and this jungle is pretty big. We gonna go hunt them down, or leave a guard... or what?"
"I say we load up on water and get hunting before they dehydrate. That'd just take away the fun and the glory," Bronze said, cheerfully laughing. "C'mon, grab your favourite blade and let's get going."
It wasn't long before the Ones were off, ready to get killing the Outliers who remained alive. Bliss didn't know she had mostly been told a load of bullshit, but Bronze had been honest about one thing.
The bear mutts were seriously dangerous and he didn't wish to confront them alone, not that he'd ever admit it.
During the early hours of the fifth night two tributes were eaten by a single, ravenous bear mutt. Bronze, meanwhile, had the foresight to ensure that Bliss and himself were securely in the trees and out of the reach of the fierce mutts.
"Not a terrible night," Bronze remarked. "Not so humid when the sun goes down."
"Still not what I'd call a nice place to hang out," Bliss replied, trying to get comfy.
"It's not meant to be, it's an arena," Bronze stated, rolling his eyes. He smirked, mischievous. "A place where there are many things lurking in the dark and none of them nice."
A scream of despair and horrible growling echoed from somewhere half a mile away, a cannon booming moments later. Bronze gestured in the direction of the kill site, indifferent.
"See? Nothing nice out there," said the arrogant prick.
"I guess you've made your point," Bliss replied. "So who is left now? I think the boy from Four is. Not sure who else."
"Hell if I know. To me they're all just lesser beings. Targets if you will," Bronze said, shrugging. "Not much to overthink; the Outliers this year were all worthless except what's-his-face from Twelve and he's already dead."
"I guess you're right," Bliss replied, trying to settle down. "How many do you think will still be alive by the time morning arrives?"
"Not many," Bronze said, a devilish smirk adorning his handsome face.
Bliss soon fell asleep, her District Partner volunteering for the first watch of the night. Bronze kept guard dutifully, keeping an eye out for any signs of danger or action. For a time there was nothing besides a gentle shower of rain, one that the jungle canopy mostly protected him and Bliss from being doused in.
A cannon boomed an hour later. Something in Bronze appeared to change when he quickly realised only six tributes were left in the arena. Without hesitation he moved closer to Bliss.
"Well, look at that, you won't be alive by morning either," Bronze whispered with a snicker. "Can't have anybody standing equal to me and taking away my kills and glory."
The mace came down with a particularly brutal smash and a moment later only five tributes remained alive in the arena.
With the death of Bliss a lot of the betting in the Capitol ground to a halt, many of the citizens seeing it as inevitable that Bronze would be the one walking out of the arena with his life. With Angus from Ten being a toothpick and both Flower from Seven and Wrenn from Eleven being particularly small and starving it meant that Seamarr from Four was the only other tribute who really had any sort of muscle to him.
That changed when a bear mutt tore his left arm off and sent him falling to his death in the mud at the bottom of a rocky cliff.
While Seamarr's life came to an abrupt end, Bronze was overall having the time of his life as he sauntered through the jungle. He waved to the crowd, posing against the jungle trees and flora to keep the audience excited, and worked to track down Flower before the sun came down on day six.
Bronze had no time to brag or rest, however, not when the Gamemakers sent a bear mutt after him as a way to at least try and ensure it wasn't going to be a completely obvious outcome this year.
"Whoa, watch the goods!" Bronze yelled, dodging the deadly claws of the snarling bears. "Wanna play rough? Ok, let's play rough!"
Bronze lunged at the bear, trying to strike it with ferocious swings of his mace. His swings made contact and sent blood flying, but failed to kill the powerful bear mutt. It only roared, furious and greatly pained. Bronze winced, starting to feel a sense of genuine fear for the first time in his spoiled life. He didn't pay attention to the cannon that marked the death of Wrenn – the small girl having been stabbed by lanky Angus – and instead turned to run for his life.
He ran right to a tree, running up the side of it and flipping backwards. It was sheer luck alone that allowed Bronze to land upon the back of the bear, right in the perfect place to ride it around, but he had no plans to admit this.
"All according to plan," Bronze declared. "Ok, where's the last-WHOA!"
The bear bucked, writhed and roared as it charged along, trying to throw Bronze off of itself. The Career boy held on for dear life, hardly able to wave to his adoring fans as he rode the aggressive mutt through the jungle. It was easily one of the top five most bizarre moments that had been seen in the Hunger Games thus far in those early days.
One moment Bronze was yelling in alarm as he was finally thrown off of the bear and send a good ten meters through the air from it.
The next moment he landed right in front of Angus. Instinct took over and Bronze smashed the skinny boy without mercy before he could even start to react.
Bronze was almost mad with laughter and triumph as the trumpets rang out, feelings of glory and arrogance filling his mind and soul. He danced around, kicking the body of Angus, showing off and making sure to mock the losers who hadn't been able to match his formidable skills.
District One was mainly just glad to have another Victor and didn't mind Bronze's ego, content to cheer along and enjoy the day.
District Two were sore in defeat and vowed to do better next year, Olga making a special note to tell her tributes to never ever turn their backs upon their allies from District One.
Districts Three right down to Twelve felt something bubbling up within them as Bronze kicked and spat on the corpse of Angus, fist pumping and laughing like a madman.
Hatred.
Bronze danced smugly at the after-party of the Games, more than happy to sign autographs or pose for photos with starstruck Capitolites. He felt like he was king of the world and was ready to reap the rewards of being a Victor for his entire life.
Peridot and Crystal stood off to the side, nowhere near as happy about this outcome as Bronze was.
"Well, this sucks," Crystal huffed, pouting. "Do we have to hang out with him back in One? I'd rather not; I've needed the dang defibrillators sixteen times these Games."
"I'm certainly not going to," Peridot said, crossing her arms. "In fact, I'm going to read comic books and pretend this braggart never won. Farewell."
Peridot made a beeline for the exit. Crystal did not stick around either, feeling her time was better spent away from Bronze and up in the room she shared with Harp. Bronze would have to enjoy the party alone and, by the looks of things, had no issues in doing so.
When Bronze eventually took his leave from the party alongside two pretty purple haired twins, all three with sly intent for the night, he was watched in disgust by Isobel. She shook her head at the sight, standing beside Shunt.
"Disgraceful. He actually loved this experience," Isobel gripped her glass tightly, almost making it form a crack. "You saw that boy kicking up Angus' corpse. Disgusting."
"Sure is," Shunt agreed, adjusting his fedora. "But we're stuck with him now."
"We may not be able to control that, but we can control how we respond to him," Isobel tapped her chin, thoughtful. "...You sure you're not interested in forming a bit of a Victor rebellion?"
"Like I said, show me ten interested members and then I'll get on board," Shunt said, flinching. "I'd rather not embark on a suicide quest. I was lucky to emerge as the sole knight standing once. A second time... it's a risk."
"Doing the right thing is always a risk," Isobel replied, not pushing it. "Fine then."
Isobel glanced around the massive party room as she wandered to and fro. Most of the Victors were busy, whether it was talking to Capitol officials like Olga and Rook or sitting off to the side in a state of pain and resignation like Bear.
It was only when she stepped onto the balcony for a few minutes of peace that she finally found any sort of luck.
"I heard what you said to Shunt," Mizar whispered, near silently. "I'm in. I'm sure Gwenith would agree; it's time to start doing something."
Isobel smirked, shaking hands with the man from District Nine. The Districts were not totally fucked just yet...
"Only nineteen years and the death toll... it's horrible to think about," Peeta said, a hand over his face.
"It only gets worse," Katniss replied. "Is Bronze still alive? I can't help thinking that his name ring a bell... maybe..."
"...I think he got burnt at the stake by rebels," Peeta said, lightly.
Neither of the couple said anything else, only keeping a silence for the burnt braggart. They soon moved further down the sidewalk and reached the next face.
"The end of the second decade. Twenty years of this. Makes you wonder how hopeless people felt," Peeta said, looking down at the ground.
"I don't have to wonder too hard. People were just as hopeless a few years ago," Katniss stated, glum. "Hmmm, wonder what Boulder Atherston did in the arena."
The imprinted face that looked back up at them, one with fairly tidy hair, patient eyes and a short goatee, naturally gave them no answers.
That was Bronze, the most arrogant bastard the Hunger Games have ever seen! Or, well, maybe just one of the top five? I guess time shall tell! Not every Victor is gonna be super complex and full of backstory. Some, like Bronze, are just kind of truly arrogant pricks. On the other hand, I feel like Bronze's level of ego made for a rather entertaining villain. I feel there's a certain line that, when crossed, makes a character go from detestably arrogant to being hilariously egotistical and I think Bronze crossed that line? I guess I'll let you guys decide if he's good or not. Either way, almost done with the second decade of the Games and the first Quell draws ever nearer...
Stats
District 1: Peridot Gaudy (8th Games), Crystal McCree (14th Games), Bronze Marley (19th Games)
District 2: Baron Overwhill (4th Games), Runa Peace (7th Games), Olga Machete (10th Games), Rook Valiant (17th Games)
District 3: Honorius Perthshire (5th Games)
District 4: Museida Selkirk (3rd Games), Mags Flanagan (11th Games)
District 5: Shunt Gaspar (12th Games), Isobel Sparks (18th Games)
District 6: N/A
District 7: Pliny Aransio (2nd Games), Fir Buzz (9th Games)
District 8: Woof Casino (16th Games)
District 9: Mizar Aldjoy (1st Games), Gwenith Rosebud (13th Games)
District 10: N/A
District 11: Bear Redfoot (15th Game)
District 12: Duke Saint-Rose (6th Games)