Luna Sparks (District 10 Escort)
I still can't believe I'm not going to get to see any animals while I'm here. Seriously, what's the point of being assigned to District Ten if I don't get to see a cow or a pig in the flesh? What kind of third-rate operation is my producer running here?
I mean seriously, would it really be the end of the world if we started the reaping fifteen minutes late so I could travel out to a nearby farm and look at a cow in person for five minutes? Of course, it wouldn't.
It's not like anyone in the Capitol is still paying attention to the Reaping's at this point anyway. The majority tune out after District Four, and the rest tune out after District Seven. By the time Ten rolls around, only the hardest of the hardcore gamblers or the criminally insane are still watching, and only the former are actually paying attention.
But none of that matters to Neo. No, he doesn't care that I've been dreaming about this moment since I was a kid — or that no one would honestly care if we started the reaping five minutes late, which is all the time I would need to see my cow and get back. All he cares about is doing our job — buzzkill.
"Are you OK, Luna?" whispers my partner, Aurelius. A concerned look on his lean, angular, peach-fuzz-covered face. "You seem a little … upset."
"Oh, I'm fine," I lie, doing my best to replace my disappointed scowl with a happy smile. "I was just … thinking."
"That line might work on someone as oblivious as Neo, but it's not going to work on me. Come on, Luna, you can talk to me."
I really don't think Aurelius knows what he's asking for here. I mean, I get that I'm being childish and petty — I do. But I feel entitled to be childish and petty about something like this. Again, I've been waiting for my entire life to see a real, live cow in person. And to be denied the chance to do so by someone who cares more about sticking to a schedule than he does making my dream come true is annoying as hell. And I have no problem being vocal about it.
However, I also don't want to annoy Aurelius. He's been relatively friendly towards me since we got paired up, and I don't want him to think that I'm shallow or that all I do is complain about stupid, mostly irrelevant crap like being denied to chance to see a cow. So, I'll keep pretending that I'm ok until I either forget that I'm not or the lie becomes the truth. I've always been good at stuff like that.
"I know I can, Aurelius. But there really is nothing wrong, I promise."
"Is this about the cow?" he asks, a wry smile on his face as I stare at him in shocked disbelief.
"How did you know?" I mumble, my face flush with embarrassment as he starts to chuckle softly.
"I'm psychic." he jokes, leaning in closer so that Neo, who has started to inch closer to where we're sitting in an effort to eavesdrop on our conversation, can't hear what we're saying.
"Really?" I laugh, rolling my eyes and smiling as he leans in closer, whispering pointless nonsense to me as Neo strains to hear what we're saying. "But seriously, how did you know?"
"I heard you and Neo arguing about it," he admits. A sheepish grin on his face.
"Oh. I'm sorry you had to hear that. I promise I don't normally get that upset about such stupid and unimportant crap. I was just. …"
"It's not a big deal, Luna," he laughs. "To be honest, I sort of agree with you on this."
"You … you do?" I ask, unsure if he's being serious or if he's playing with me.
"Of course, I do. Frankly, I don't understand why Neo brought us here a day early if not to explore the district."
"Thank you," I shout, loud enough to be heard by Neo, who glares at the two of us with curious annoyance while Aurelius giggles and I roll my eyes. "Oops."
"Yeah, oops," he grins.
"No, that really was an accident." I insist. The amused glint in my eyes quietly betraying the seriousness of my voice. "I promise I would never do anything to purposely annoy my wonderful producer."
He can't help but laugh at that. And, despite knowing better, I can't help but laugh with him. It just feels right. The fact that it also annoys the ever-loving crap out of Neo is just a bonus. And I know that it annoys him because within maybe three seconds of us starting, he's glaring stern, angry daggers at us. As if his disapproving scowl is enough to cow us into submission.
Which it's not. So, naturally, we choose to ignore him. Opting instead for a rather enjoyable back and forth about how lame Neo is being and how next year we'll have to make an extra special effort to sneak away for a few minutes so I can see my cow. Provided we're still partnered up and working in Ten, that is.
After that, things kind of start to run together, and we spend the next ten or so minutes talking about random nonsense. Right up to the moment Neo storms over to us with a super-duper pissed-off look on his face.
"Are the two of you even paying attention?!" he screams, gesticulating wildly like a deranged madman.
"Of course, we are, Neo," I coo, sarcastically. "Why do you ask?"
"Oh, I don't know. Maybe, because you're sitting here like morons even though the mayor finished introducing you jackasses five minutes ago?!"
"You're exaggerating, Neo," groans Aurelius, a disgusted look on his face as he slides out of his chair and offers me his hand. Which I take, slipping out of my chair and allowing him to lead me across the foyer towards the main doors with a smug grin on my face as he continues to chew out Neo. "I can hear the mayor from here, and he just started my portion of the introduction."
"That's ... that's irrelevant, Aurelius."
"No, it's not." he snaps, rolling his eyes as the two of us take our places on the stars at the front of the entryway just as the massive red-iron doors begin to flutter open — bathing the three of us in the warm, dusty embrace of District Ten. "And if you lie like that to us again, it will be the last mistake you ever make." He growls, shooting Neo a final, steely glare before strolling calmly and confidently out onto the stage with a smile on his face as the crowd treats him to a well-deserved smattering of warm, respectful applause.
"This only happened because you wouldn't let me go and look at a cow." I joke, shooting Neo a playful glare of my own before skipping happily onto the stage and taking my place behind the podium a few feet to the left of the absolutely breathtaking cattle skull they're using as a reaping ball.
"Good afternoon, District Ten!" I squeal, choking ever so slightly on the oppressive layer of dust hanging in the air like an invisible blanket. "It's a pleasure to meet you all. My name is Luna Sparks. And that dashing rogue over there is my partner and your new mentor, Aurelius Crane.
"Now, I'm sure most of you know why we're here, so this next part is for those few who just got back from a good old-fashioned cattle drive. We're here today to select the two brave young fillies," god, I hope I used that word right, "who will have the honor of representing all of you and this wonderful district in the most anticipated Hunger Games in Panem's history. The Fourth Quarter Quell!
"And, now that you're all caught up, I think it's time for us to do just that. Don't you?" I squeal, a playful smile on my face as I slide around the podium — sprint across the stage — and thrust my delicate little hand firmly into the center of the sea of blood-red slips of papers nestled safely inside the hollowed-out confines of the cattle-skull reaping ball.
This is when my escort training comes into conflict with my instincts. My training tells me I'm supposed to make this take as long as I can, to spend a few seconds mixing the papers to and fro while building tension, without it being overly obvious that's what I'm doing. On the other hand, my instincts are screaming at me to ignore that stupid shit and hurry up and pick a slip so I can meet my first tribute.
It's a real battle for all of about three seconds. That's how long it takes for my instincts to win out over my training and for me to carefully palm a slip of paper, gently remove my hand from the ball, and scamper back behind the podium so I can read the name of the lucky young woman I've just reaped.
"The name of our first tribute is ..."
"I VOLUNTEER AS TRIBUTE!"
Oh my. I don't — I don't know how to respond to that. I mean, I knew there was a chance that I would hear those words, those perfect, soul-lifting words. But it was such a long shot that I never seriously entertained the idea that it could actually happen. But it has — I have a volunteer — District Ten has a volunteer.
I'm so excited that I can't stop smiling, and while it doesn't seem like the people of Ten are as delighted about this as I am, that's ok. I'm excited enough for everyone. Seriously, it's taking every ounce of self-restraint in my teeny-tiny body not to scream and babble like an awe-struck moron.
Of course, I am only human, and my self-restraint does have its limits. And the longer I have to wait for my volunteer to show herself, the harder it's going to be for me to keep my cool and not make a fool out of myself at the worst possible time.
Fortunately, my volunteer seems to understand this. And within maybe thirty seconds of volunteering, she's strolling calmly and confidently down the central aisle, her bright blue eyes burning with the kind of confidence you don't see in most outer district tributes.
That confidence can take her places no one from Ten has gone since Dusk won the games twenty years ago, but it won't have to carry her there on its own. She's also got the right look, coupling those stunning blue eyes with long, light-brown hair that falls to the middle of her back in soft waves and beautiful pale skin with a smattering of blemishes on her nose and upper cheeks.
Her only physical drawback is that she's a little on the — how do I put this — brawny side? She's not dainty by any stretch of the imagination, which for some reason, is an issue for certain sponsors. I don't necessarily agree with that sentiment, but it is what it is. It's also their loss.
This girl looks like a future champion. She's tall, strong, and confident. She looks like she could go toe to toe with a career and expect to win. That's what should matter to them.
"Welcome, my dear," I squeal, throwing my arms around her neck and hugging her for all I'm worth the second she steps onto the stage. "It's a pleasure to meet you ..."
"Sarah Beth. My name is Sarah Beth Fullberg, Miss Sparks. And I can assure you, the pleasure is all mine," she says, nodding her head respectfully while flashing a warm, playful, happy little smile that could light up a city it's so bright.
"Sarah Beth Fullberg. That is such a beautiful name, dear."
"I'm glad you think so, Miss Sparks."
"You are so polite," I squeal, waving my arms around like a lunatic as I inch ever closer to a major fangirl meltdown right in the middle of the stage. "Could you be any more perfect?"
She thinks about that for a second, her face scrunching up oh so adorably as she furrows her brow in thought before slowly melting back to its original look as she leans in and says, "I don't think so. But I'm willing to try if you think it will help me win the Hunger Games."
"Such a cheeky answer, I love it! I love you, Sarah."
"Thank you, Miss Sparks. But, it's Sarah Beth."
"Excuse me, dear?"
"My name. It's not Sarah. It's Sarah Beth."
"Oh, my apologies."
"There's no reason to apologize. It's a — different naming convention. I've got two first names, I've always had two first names, and it can be a mouthful. That's why I go by SB. It's shorter, easier to remember, and just flat out better."
"Then SB you shall be.
"Now, we don't have a lot of time, SB. So, I'll limit myself to one big question instead of half a dozen or so little one. Though, I might have to pester you a bit more in private once we're on the train."
"I am at your disposal, Miss Sparks. Here, on the train, in the Capitol, on my Victory Tour, whatever you need."
"You are just so polite. Isn't she polite, everyone?" I ask, staring intently into the nearest camera and winking playfully while gesturing towards Sarah Beth with a massive smile on my face. "But I'm wondering dear — and please, don't take this the wrong way — why did you volunteer?"
I think my question about her parents caught her off guard because it takes her a couple of seconds to collect her thoughts before she finally gives me an answer. And even then, she's curt, matter-of-fact, and leaves a lot to be desired. "My reason for volunteering is sort of a … touchy … subject. If it's all the same to you, I'd rather not talk about it."
Part of me wants to push this issue, but I know better. I've got a great thing going here with Sarah Beth, and I don't want to ruin that by forcing her to answer a question she's obviously not ready or willing to answer. She's going to have to answer it eventually, the Mistress of Ceremonies will see to that, but she doesn't have to answer it today. Not if she doesn't want to.
"Then you don't have to talk about it, Sarah Beth. To be frank, why you volunteered is almost irrelevant. What matters is that you did, and you're going to be representing District Ten in the most important Hunger Games in Panem's history.
"Well, you and your future district partner. Which reminds me, I still need to pick you out one of those. Unless we have a second volunteer lurking out there somewhere who would like to save me the trouble of doing so?" I ask. The faintest glimmer of hope snaking its way past my defenses and bleeding into my question as I lead Sarah Beth over to her assigned spot on the stage before quickly making my way back over to the ball and snatching up a second blood-red slip of paper before retreating back to the podium and nearly tearing it in half in my excitement to unfold and read it.
"The name of our second tribute is … Luciana Bay!" I squeal, my voice dripping with excitement as I all but rip the microphone out of its holder and sprint over to the edge of the stage, happily scanning every face I can see in search of Luciana's.
Of course, Luciana isn't as prompt as Sarah Beth was. She's a traditional tribute, not a volunteer. So, naturally, it takes her a bit longer than it did Sarah Beth to make her initial appearance. And when I say a bit longer, I mean nearly two minutes. It takes Luciana nearly two full minutes from the time I say Luciana's name to the second the pretty young woman I assume is her stumbles out of the crowd with a painfully forced and yet awkwardly adorable little smile on her face.
Her smile is one of her more endearing physical traits, and it couples perfectly with her tall, lean, lithe body. Gorgeous, dark-brown hair that's streaked with stunning dark-purple highlights that falls to the middle of her back in soft waves before curling at the ends. And her soft, light-brown eyes and beautiful tan skin.
If there's one thing about her I would change, besides not volunteering, it would be her choice in accessories. I've never been a big fan of dark colors or animal-based jewelry, and she's rocking both of them in the form of her jet-black nail polish and butterfly earrings.
Though that's more of a personal nitpick than it is a genuine problem, and it's one I'm more than happy to overlook if that's what I have to do.
"Welcome, Luciana," I squeal, throwing my arms around her neck and pulling her in for a back popping hug just like I did Sarah Beth. "It's an absolute pleasure to meet you."
It takes her a few seconds to respond to that, in part because she's still very clearly trying to come to terms with what just happened, and in part, because I may or may not have squeezed her a little too tight and knocked the wind out of her. Though — in my defense — my hug strength was quite clearly still calibrated for Sarah Beth, who is much stronger and broader than poor Luciana is. So, it's not really my fault that I hugged her too tight.
Not that it matters whose fault it is, and I'm not just saying that because it's like, ninety-five or so percent my fault. No, I'm saying it because it really doesn't matter. After all, the result is the same. It takes Luciana a little while to collect herself, both emotionally and physically, before she can respond to my greeting.
"Thank you very much, Luna. It's a pleasure to meet you too," she says, her voice quiet and low but with none of the unease or hesitation I was expecting. "It's also a pleasure to meet you, Sarah Beth," she says, offering her new partner a small nod and a polite smile before turning her attention back to me.
"Trying to out-polite your exceptionally polite partner, Luciana?"
"Of course not, Luna," she laughs, a warm smile on her face and a slightly hurt look in her big, brown eyes. "This is just who I am."
"I'm sure it is," I say, wrapping my arm gently around her shoulder and pulling her in for a much softer hug as the nearest camera zooms in close on what I'm sure it expects to be a tender moment. "In my admittedly limited personal experience, the people of Ten are some of the nicest, most polite, and hardest working people in all of Panem.
"Now, I can't speak to the third one with you or Sarah Beth quite yet, though I feel fairly safe in assuming that it will be true. Since I can say with absolute certainty that you're both easily the nicest and most polite tributes I've ever met. I look forward to working with both of you moving forward."
"Well, I can't speak for Sarah Beth, but I know that I feel the same way about you and your partner Aurelius."
"So do I," quips Sarah Beth, a happy smile on her face as she walks confidently towards Luciana and me — extending her hand to her partner and shaking it firmly just as the Anthem of Panem begins to ring out from every corner of the square. Bringing an end to what has been a fun and unexpectedly historic little reaping. I may not have gotten to see my cow, but this is the next best thing.
"And on that note, it sounds like it's time for us to wrap this up. I want to thank the people of Ten once again for being so kind and welcoming. Aurelius and I have both thoroughly enjoyed our time here, and we look forward to our return trip in the fall when we're celebrating the hard-fought victory of either Luciana Bay or Sarah Beth Fullberg in the once in a generation extravaganza that is the Fourth Quarter Quell!
"Happy Hunger Games District Ten! And may the odds be ever in your favor!"
Luciana Bay-17 (District 10 Female)
"I'm surprised you showed up. I mean, don't you have a business meeting, or a business lunch, or something like that you should be at, dad?"
"Luciana, please," groans my mom, an exhausted look on her face as she tries and fails to stop me from standing up and squaring up on my dad.
"No, mom, I want him to answer me. This is the only thing he's shown up for in my entire life, and I deserve to know why.
"So, dad, why this and not one of my birthdays? Why this and not the birth of my baby brother? Or his funeral? Or any one of the zillions of other times when I needed my dad, or mom needed her husband? What makes this moment more important than those? What makes it more important than work? Isn't work always more important than family?"
"I never said that Luciana."
"Don't lie to me, dad. I was there. I was in the room when you told mom you couldn't get away from work for the birth of your son. And you weren't even in the district when we buried him. You were in Nine negotiating grain prices for cattle feed.
"I remember that — because I was trying to take care of mom, who was on death's door AND help plan a funeral. At SIX, dad." I scream, my body shaking with anger as my mom tries to calm me down while my dad stares down at the floor with an ashamed look on his normally smug and confident face.
"You're right, Luciana, I wasn't there when I should have been, and I'm sorry for that."
"You're sorry?!"
"Yes, I'm sorry. I'm also here now. And I promise I'll do everything I can to make sure you make it out of this mess. I'll lean on every one of my business associates to scrounge up sponsor money. I'll call in every favor I have and some that I don't with people in the Capitol. I'll do everything in my power to help you make it out of this. I promise."
I don't — I don't know how to respond to that. I should probably be grateful, or at the very least thank him for being willing to help, but I just can't bring myself to do it. This walking asshole of a human being doesn't get to weasel his way out of seventeen years of neglect by helping me survive the Hunger Games.
"I don't want your help, dad. I don't."
"Luciana?!" snaps my mom, tears streaming down her face as she looks into my eyes and pleads with me. "Don't say that. She didn't mean it, George."
"Yes, I did, mom. I don't want his help. I don't need his help."
"Think about what you're saying, Luciana. And do it carefully," he says, his tone low and annoyed as he passively straightens out his tie and jacket before turning towards my mom. "I'm trying to be reasonable here, Catalina, but she won't give me a chance. I understand that she's under a lot of stress right now, but there's only so much of her crap that I'm willing to take."
"Then leave," I snap, putting myself between my parents and shielding my mom from my dad's hard, slightly annoyed gaze, "It's what you're best at."
"Fine then," he shrugs, taking a couple of steps towards me and wrapping me in a big, warm hug before planting a soft kiss on the top of my head. "But remember, I love you, Luciana. You may not believe it, but I do," he says, taking one last loving look at my face before turning around and walking confidently out of the room without a second look.
"Why did you do that, Luciana?" sobs my mom, tears flowing freely down her face in a steady stream from her big, red, puffy, green eyes.
"I don't … because he deserved it," I say, my voice quivering as I fight back the urge to cry while doing everything I can not to look at my mom. Focusing instead on the small, white-gold wedding bands on a chain she gave me last night for luck. "He … he deserved to know how I really feel about him."
"He's your father." she sobs, quickly darting out of the room after him, leaving me alone with nothing but my thoughts as the door snaps closed behind her with a deafening thud.
Sarah Beth Fullberg-17 (District 10 Female)
"Why did you do it, SB? Why did you volunteer?" sobs my friend, Vivian, her soft, full lips coated in a fine sheen of bloody phlegm as she quickly pulls out a tissue and wipes her mouth.
"Because I had to, Vivian. You know that."
"This is — *cough* — about — *cough* — me? Isn't it?" she asks, her tiny body wracking with every cough as a trickle of blood seeps out of her nose and runs down her lip. "I told you I'm — *cough* — fine. I have a cold, and you and the doctor are worried about nothing."
"Colds don't last for over a year, Viv," I respond, plucking the tissue out of her trembling hand and gently dabbing at the ever-growing stream of blood trickling out of her nose. "And they don't keep getting worse when you take medication."
"You're not a doctor, SB," she giggles, trying and failing to fight back yet another bout of body shaking coughs and blood-soaked phlegm. "How would you know?"
"Because your doctor, who is a doctor, told me so," I coo, continuing to gently dab at the blood trickling out of her nose until it finally stops. Freeing me to toss the now blood-soaked tissue in the nearest trash can before leading Viv into the bathroom so I can clean her up and wash my hands.
"I'm still not convinced my doctor is actually a people doctor."
"What else could he possibly be?" I ask, a small smile on my lips as I allow myself to imagine any number of fantastical answers she might give me as I gently dab a wet tissue on the dried blood under her nose.
"I'm not sure," she admits, a mischievous and triumphant twinkle in her eyes as she successfully fights back the urge to cough. "But he can't be a doctor. His bedside manner is terrible."
"His bedside manner is not terrible, Viv. You're just a lousy patient." I joke, turning off the water and tossing the wet, bloody rag in the can next to the sink before leading Viv back out into the main room and over to the couch. "Though I can't say that I blame you. With all the tests he's had to run, you must feel like a high school science experiment."
"More like a well-used pin cushion."
"Well, I wasn't going to go there. I don't like needles."
"How do you think I feel?"
I don't know how to answer that question without making her cry, which is all I seem to be able to do recently. In fact, this is the longest we've gone without her crying since she got sick, and I'm enjoying it. I like it when Viv is happy because it makes me happy. That's why I have to find a way to save her.
"You've got that look in your eye again, SB. Is something wrong?"
"No," I lie, doing my best to look as happy and confident as I looked when she first walked into the room. "I was just thinking about who's going to take care of you when I'm in the Capitol."
"I could always go back to the group home?" she jokes, punching me softly in the arm as tears start to stream down my face.
"You're never going back there," I declare, my voice hard and serious even as the tears continue to streak down my face and fall softly onto her dark-red head. "I told you that when we ran away."
"I might not have a choice, SB. Especially if you — if you —"
"Don't think like that, Viv. I'm going to be fine. I promise."
"You can't promise that and you know it," she says, a fresh string of tears running down her soft, flushed cheeks and a fresh trickle of blood seeping out her raw, red nose. "What am I going to do if you die, SB?"
"I'm not going to die," I say, pulling her in for a tight, reassuring hug as I fish a fresh tissue out of my pocket and hold it gently under her nose. "I'm going to win. And after I do, I'm going to use the money I get to fly you to the Capitol for treatment. I promise. And I've never broken a promise to you. Have I?"
"No. But there's a first time for everything," she whispers."
Not here, I think. Not with you.
A/N: First, I'd like to give an extra special thanks to KitKathy520 and Gomex for submitting Luciana and Sarah Beth. Both are absolutely amazing tributes, and I've enjoyed the heck out of bringing them to life. I just hope I did them justice in your eyes :D
Well, we've finally hit the home stretch, just two more reapings to go, four more amazing tributes to meet, and then we can get to the train rides! After a little surprise, that is. Yes, I do have something small and world-building planned for the near future, and I can't wait to show it to you all :D
But that's a discussion for a different day — right now, I'm much more interested in hearing what everyone thinks of Luciana and Sarah Beth. So, as always, please drop a review and let me know what you think of them, as well as the story in general, and I'll be looking for all of your smiling faces at the District Eleven reaping! :D