Reaping I

Otis Warburg, District 9

i'm waking up, i feel it in my bones
enough to make my systems blow
welcome to the new age, to the new age

(radioactive — imagine dragons)

•••

Otis has only been eligible for the Reaping once before, but he already knows it's by far the worst day of the year — especially when there's no one to hold his hand through it.

He's grown accustomed to being on his own, but the idea of being alone while it happens still haunts him. His only friend, a fellow orphan named Bobbi Grisham, won't be by his side when it happens because the Peacemakers segregate the eligible tributes by gender before entering the town square — which means he'll be surrounded by hoards of boys that he's never spoken to before while struggling to keep his breathing even. He gulps quietly as he fixes his tie, and stares at his reflection in the mirror before letting out a quiet sigh.

He's only thirteen, but he has already been through so much.

His fists tighten ever so lightly and his mind goes back to his parents. His memories of them are vague and even blurry at times, but he needs to hold on to them in times like these. He tries to recall the way his mother sang to him before tucking him in, and the way she would dance around the kitchen with his father when they thought he was fast asleep. They had always been rather poor, but Otis remembers his childhood as an extremely happy one — at least until the typhus epidemic struck District Nine when he was just seven years old and took them both away from him.

"Ot, c'mon. We're already running late."

He turns around and finds Bobbi smiling kindly at him. Unlike Otis, Bobbi has never known life outside the orphanage — her single mother died at childbirth, and she has been raised by the teachers and nuns who run the orphanage. She has a sturdy personality, which is Otis's favorite thing about her — she's determined, but also extremely kind, and she knows how to fend for herself even in the darkest circumstances. Otis has never told her, but he thinks she would have a fair shot at winning the Games.

"Yeah, I'm coming," he muses. He takes one last look at himself in the mirror and then offers her a half-smile, because today isn't a day for wholehearted grins. "Let's go."

The other kids have already left, so they both make their way to the town square in a comfortable silence. Bobbi occasionally points one or two things out as they walk down the street — she tells him about the neighbor's dog having had puppies the other day, and about this sixteen-year-old boy from the orphanage who keeps bugging her all the time. He listens attentively, but hardly replies to her incessant monologue — Otis knows he's her go-to person to vent all her worries and ideas out, and he is a rather good listener after all. By the time they get to the town square, however, Bobbi has gone silent, and she gives his hand a gentle squeeze before casting a glance towards the Peacekeepers who will inevitably send her to the girls' section.

"I'll see you later, all right?" She says, an encouraging smile on her face. "Don't panic — it's going to be completely fine, Ot. Your name has only been put in twice."

"I know," he nods, and knows his friend is right. But there's still a chance of either of them getting reaped, so he doesn't let go of her hand just yet and whispers, "Will you come say goodbye if I get reaped, Bobbi?"

Bobbi grimaces, but nods quietly. "Sure thing, Ot." And she pulls him in for a hug before adding, "You'll come too if I'm the one who gets reaped, right?"

"Of course," he whispers against her shoulder, and shuts his eyes firmly as he hugs her close. "You're the best friend I've ever had, Bobbi."

She nods, as though agreeing with his statement, then presses a soft kiss to his forehead before letting go of him.

"C'mon, let's go," she whispers. Otis notices that she's a little teary-eyed — which isn't like Bobbi at all. "I'll buy you an ice cream later, all right?"

Otis does a half-smile and nods. "Not if I buy you one first!"

Bobbi snorts and waves him goodbye before the Peacekeepers usher her to the girls' side. He raises his arms in protest when they try to do the same with him, grimacing ever so lightly at the aggressive look on their faces. He follows the other boys into his group, and crosses his arms as he looks up to the central stage. Their Capitol escort is a snobbish young man by the name of Ovidius Maysendorf, and Otis has always hated him with passion. His accent is nothing like the people of District Nine's, and he always wears the fanciest clothes when he knows full well that most people in his assigned District can't even afford four meals a day. He clenches his fists when Ovidius grins at the camera and, sporting a freshly tanned look that he must have acquired while on holiday in the fancier side of District Four, he flashes a smile towards the crowd standing in front of him.

"Good morning, District Nine!" He says in a loud, enthusiastic voice. "Welcome to the eighty-sixth District Nine Reaping. I bet you're all very excited about it." The boy standing beside Otis snorts, and he can't help but awkwardly smile in agreement. "Thank you to our mentors for being here, and thank you all for taking the time to come over."

"S'not like it's optional, dude." The boy snorts again, and Otis has to stifle a laugh. He's taller and possibly older than him, and they most likely haven't even met before, but he has already decided that he likes him. There's an entire science to bonding with other fellow candidates through Reaping Day, Otis thinks.

"Let's begin with the boys, shall we?" Ovidius lets out what attempts to be a charismatic laugh, but the crowd in front of him seems to either ignore or downright disregard his gesture, so he simply coughs and motions towards the bowl. "All right, let's do this . . . "

Otis presses his eyes closed, and for a second he manages to block out every single noise, colour, taste, and smell that surrounds him. He's alone in his head, and he allows himself to breathe for a second before telling himself it's going to be all right. He's not getting reaped, because there's plenty of eighteen-year-olds who have put their names in fifty or sixty times so as to feed their families for an entire year after the Reaping. His name has only been submitted twice, and he will probably just go eat an ice cream with Bobbi afterwards and laugh his anxieties off like he did the previous year. He isn't that unlucky, after all.

"Otis Warburg!"

. . . Except maybe he is, after all.

so! that's the first reaping right there. i wanted to start off with wee otis because well, he's a character i came up with the other day and wanted to try and write him for a bit before diving into the submitted tributes. please let me know what you think via review! and remember, there's still plenty of slots left — so if you're reading this and haven't submitted a tribute yet, please shoot me a PM and make me uber happy!

also — make sure to check Andii99's SYOT! it's absolutely amazing and it'd be lovely if you could submit a tribute or two there as well. :)

coming next: luxe's reaping.