Sorry for the late update, I was busy with schoolwork and stuff like that. I'm not particularly happy with how this chapter turned out but I hope you guys like it, make sure to comment your thoughts.
The praise for these two amazing tributes should be directed towards EthanW32 and shirapp, thanks for both of these guys, they rock!
There is an important Authors Note at the bottom of this to do with the sponsorship system, everyone's opinion matters so make sure you check it out!
The Capitol citizen POV for this chapter is Althea Redpath, a Capitol scientist who works alongside the gamemakers, creating mutts. Veeto Ingus is her boyfriend, one of the many presidential candidates and he was introduced briefly in the first prologue. Her POV provides a little snippet of insight into his personality as well as a look at some of the mutts the 103rd will have to offer.
Enjoy!
(Yes, that's a command)
Ophelia "Lia" White – District 3 Female
Age: 16
"In the battle of Brains Vs. Brawns there is never a clear winner."
"Daniel White. Please report to the head office, we are ready for your presentation." The robotic voice is projected around the complex. I look up from my book, 'The Great Gatsby' and scan the room.
To anyone else the room would appear bare. There are no obvious speakers or cameras in the room but under careful inspection, you can see a lot more. There are five minuscule cameras, about the size of an apricot seed, scattered around the room. You can only see them if you're looking, and no one is, they don't care. As for the sound, that's coming from the cameras as well, which kind of defeats the point of secrecy.
My father stands up, holding his briefcase. I'm not allowed to go in, only the inventors are allowed to be present, I'm here for moral support. He smiles weakly at me and ruffles my hair. "I'll be right back, okay?" He says as if I'm worried. He's the one that's worried, his palms are clammy, his eyes aren't focusing and he's shaking slightly.
I smile at him and shake my head. As he walks off I return to the Ancient American world of Jay Gatsby.
Daniel, that's my father, is an inventor, he works with a team of other inventors who are all invested in the same branch. Media. At the moment he's displaying last year's effort and hard work, twelve entire months of consideration and creativity. Somehow he managed to concentrate entire terabytes of data into minuscule packages. 'Wow, that's exciting,' you're probably thinking. But you're wrong, it is exciting, this means people can broadcast and distribute massive files in seconds, milliseconds. It's an impressive feat.
So why's he worried? Well, it's not that his invention is bad or a waste of time, his chance of being accepted is minute. When he was younger he was an apprentice to Beetee Latier, Three's greatest inventor who was… Executed recently. It's not public information, to everyone else he died of a heart-attack but I know the truth. Confidential Information was found in his possession and he was accused of treason. My father barely escaped with his life, he's on probation, the Capitol are watching him. So people making investments aren't going to risk their chances on him. It's the ugly truth.
I'm up to the part where Nick is invited to Mr. Gatsby's fancy doo, when I feel the warmth of a human body replace the cold air beside me. I look up, honestly, I'd rather read than socialise… People skills aren't exactly my forte.
Liam. No complex socialising is required. Lucky me. "How fares thee?" He asks, his dazzling smile chiselled into his handsome face. I rest my head on his shoulder and his arm lounges around mine. His lazy brown hair falls in curls tickling my head. Next to my straight-blonde-hair-simple-features face, he must look like a supermodel.
"I'm not sure. Dad's super stressed, I'm worried for him, I guess. He deserves to be happy."
I can feel Liam nodding against my forehead. "Yeah, he does. Your dads a great man. I guess I'm too late then, Mum sent me for moral support." Liam's parents both work alongside my father. He's the boss of the program but everyone needs assistants. That's how Liam and I met.
"I tried, but he just discarded all my efforts. He's to wound up. It'll all be over soon enough," I say, attempting to lighten the mood.
"Yeah, but then there're the reapings tomorrow," says Liam.
Right. I try to brush it off with a giggle, "Dad isn't going to get reaped?" I say.
He untangles himself and props his body up on his elbow, which is leaning against the back of the chair. His emerald green eyes stare at me as he talks. He's telling me it's a serious matter, which I shouldn't joke about. Honestly, I'd rather read Gatsby, all this serious nonsense is frustrating me.
I lean forward and press my lips against his. He's shocked at first, but then he gets into it. I feel his long eyelashes flutter against mine. He was probably annoyed at my interrupting him but I don't think he's going to complain now.
"Get a room." Says someone, malice clear in their voice. We break apart and I look up. Ashland Grigsby, Worlds number one bitch stands before me, camera in hand. I glare at her, my light blue eyes trying to destroy her.
I'm not normally rude but this girl is disgusting. She makes it her hobby to ruin other people's lives. Her dad is an inventor like mine. No. That would be a lie. Harwood Grigsby is nothing like my father. That man is terrible, though I have to admit he is a lot more successful than my father. It's like in books, the good guys never get the happily ever after, at least until the end of the story. Hopefully, that's how my life will turn out.
"Sorry," says Liam, "Are you jealous? Don't worry there's enough of me to share around." He lunges forward, smiling.
She shrieks and swats him away. "Eek! Why would I want some lame excuse like you to kiss me? ICK!"
"Because I'm incredibly sexy." I raise my eyebrows at this. Oh well, I'll let him have some fun. It's not like he is actually into Ashland.
"Thot," she says, smiling. Ashland finds enjoyment in insults. Thot happens to be a particular favourite of hers, I hear it at least twice a day.
She flicks her hair and sachets out of the building, probably to go call someone else a thot. Idiot.
When the door closes behind her Liam and I crack up laughing. I have to admit, Ashland can be quite funny. Unintentionally, sure, but it's still deadly hilarious.
The Great Gatsby lies on the floor, open at the spine. I reach down to grab it and when I come back up, book in hand, I see my father walking down the hallway.
"I did it!" He calls, "YES!"
He runs into my arms and we twirl around on the spot, jumping with joy. I have to admit I am surprised, pleasantly surprised.
I guess there are decent people in the world after all.
Gadge Lotus – District 3 Male
Age: 18
"I'm crazy and I don't pretend to be anything else."
I sit cross-legged in front of the washing machine. Watching it rotate. I can see my sparkly blue shirt being flung around inside, soap colliding with its cotton strands. I watch as the pretty sequins fly off, the shirt said 'soaking only, washing in machinery may cause damage'. I hate my pretty blue shirt. It's too sparkly, maybe it can tell me what it's like to be destroyed.
The threads pull apart, a bit of blue here, a sequin there. The inside of the washing machine looks so pretty.
I hear footsteps, someone's coming. No! They'll turn off the switch!
I stand up and run over to the door. The lock slides down easily and holds the door in place, it's not going anywhere. For now, it's just me, the washing machine and my pretty blue shirt.
I sit back down and close my eyes. I can hear the monsters banging on the door, their fists smashing around and rattling the bolts. The monsters want to eat me. I need to hide.
My hands pull my body forwards. One hand first, then the other, they pull me to safety. I jump into the washing basket, the garments cover me, keeping me warm. I sit in a ball, my hands consuming my knees which are huddled up against my chest.
It doesn't take long for me to relax. Once I can't hear the monsters, everything gets better. All I need is something shiny, like a crystal. I dig in my pants pocket and pull out a tiny chunk of polished steel. It's shiny, really, really shiny.
It slides into my mouth before I know it. I didn't want to eat it, it's my urge's fault, it just looked so damn tasty! I roll it around in my mouth, fondling it with my tongue, imagining District 1. Apparently, everything there is really shiny. That would be so nice.
I remember a time when someone else wore shiny clothes. A peacekeeper he was called. Apparently, he had to wear shiny clothes but I knew that was a lie. Only I'm allowed to wear shiny clothes. I had run at him and bashed him up. He hadn't seen me coming! Haha! What an idiot. They tied me up to a post and hit me with this strange stringy thing, they said I had broken the law (that means rules that you have to follow) but they were wrong. They should have hit the other guy, he was the one that broke the rules! Who did he think he was! Wearing shiny white uniforms. People need to learn the rules, shiny things are mine and only mine.
I remember a time when I didn't know the rules. I let everyone else have shiny things. But that wasn't my fault, I was only two, at least that's when I first remember knowing the law. We were out in town and all the people were driving shiny cars and I saw one in the middle and I wanted it and I ran towards it and I got it and I licked it and it tasted shiny. That was fun but apparently, that was what grandpa calls 'suicidal' but the person in the car was the suicidal one! He broke the law and it was my job to punish him.
A giggle escapes my mouth as I remember my favourite one. The time when I killed the two kids! Haha! That was a fun time.
I roll over in the basket, the shiny garments fall over me. I only wear shiny clothes but only if they're good. I hate ugly ones, like my pretty blue shirt.
I remember the time that I was in jail. That was a sad time for everyone. No one got to see me during that time. Luckily grandpa had the brain to bale me out. Now everyone is happy again, they have someone to make sure people follow the law!
The reason why I was in jail was silly. I was just running a little experiment and then the police came and arrested me! I didn't even get to check my hypothesis.
When I was twelve some people took me away to a thing called the academy. It's like school but they teach you how to kill people, Oh and what food you can and cannot eat and stuff like that. They said it was training for this big event where you get hungry or something, I'm not sure, that part always bored me to death.
Then one day we learnt about the dangers of the time-you-get-hungry thing. Apparently, you can die and stuff and they showed us how to find out if someone was dead by touching their neck with two fingers (I just licked them, it worked just as well). They also taught us that death is natural and there's nothing to worry about, everyone dies.
So I decided to run an experiment, they were teaching us this at school. You need an aim, a hypothesis, materials, subjects and you need to record your results. My aim was to find out what it was like to be dead and my hypothesis was that it would be boring, like sleeping but without shiny things to dream about. So I picked my candidates and I killed them. There are weapons available twenty-four seven at the academy. But then they arrested me for something called 'murder' even though the subjects were volunteers (Well…). And I never got my results, either. I never got to ask them what it's like to be dead.
Oh well, I guess I'll find out in the hungry thingy.
Althea Redpath – Capitol Scientist
Age: 28
"Darling! How did you forget to iron my clothes… Again!"
Seriously? Since when did ironing his clothes become my problem? "Oh, sorry Veet, I guess I was a little busy last night, Proteus invited me out to breakfast this morning, so I've got to go!" I reply. I know he's really busy with his campaign but the fact he treats me more like a maidservant than his fiancé is starting to get on my nerves. Besides, he could totally afford a maidservant, so what's his problem?
"You're going to breakfast with another man…" He says under his breath. But I can hear him, there's a wall between us but Veeto has never been known for his quiet tone.
I grit my teeth. "It's business, honey."
"So that's what you call it?" He retorts.
I step out of the bathroom, a comb jammed in my messy bun. "Veeto! What is your problem! Why are you so distrustful! I wouldn't cheat on you! Trust me," I say.
"It would be easier to believe if you'd have ironed my shirt," he says, smirking, acting like this is all just flirtatious banter. Why does he have to be so green? He's won anyway, manpower claims victory again. I attempt a fake giggle that no one sensible would ever believe. But Veeto is definitely not sensible. I'm not sure why, but he thinks that asking me to do him a chore makes me happy, idiot.
I flash a fake smile and grasp the iron. It only takes about three minutes but it feels like forever. The monotonous back and forth of the iron. We should pay people to do this kind of stuff.
Why do I live with him then? Money and fame, I guess. He is more or less the reason why I am where I am today, a scientist for the Hunger Games. I was just a blushing, naïve Capitolite when I met him, unaware of all the power struggles, betrayal, and drama of the upper-class citizens. We started dating, it wasn't long before I decided he wasn't the one for me but by then I had been educated. Veeto had links, he was President Coriolanus Snow's right-hand man and knew lots of official people. If I stuck with him, made him believe I loved him, then it would all be fine.
He took advantage of his connections with Dawn Angelica and got me an interview. I used my looks and manipulation to get Proteus Baron to accept me, it wasn't hard. And now I have it all, all I have to do is put up with my asshole fiancé when I'm at home and I can everything I ever desired. And if Veeto becomes President of this grand nation…
"See you later darling!" Veeto calls as he shuts the door behind him, pulling me from my thoughts. He's got a presidential rally today, he's not one of the higher profile candidates but he still has his bunch of ignorant adoring fans.
"Wait!" I call though it comes out more like a shriek, "You forgot your coffee."
He smiles at me as he comes back in. "Right, sorry Alty, I know how you love to mix me up a good cup of Luwak," he says happily, obviously flattered by my care for him. He's not exactly sensible but I'm pretty sure he sees right through my love for him, he just pretends not to.
I rush off to the kitchen and start to whip up the coffee. Luwak coffee is extremely expensive, it has to have passed through the digestive system of a mongoose, a species all but extinct. I personally find the idea of drinking coffee that may contain faecal matter quite horrifying, but whatever tickles your fancy.
As I pull the jug off of the machine I tip in a dash of… of flavouring. He'll never notice it, it's completely flavourless and while he thinks I go to extra effort to make him coffee every day, I'm actually slowly bringing upon his death, just like Celestia taught me to.
He hugs me quickly before rushing out the door. I have to say he is a little bit cute when he's happy.
I sit in the café, sipping a cup of Antoccino, some kind of coffee made with steamed milk. I consider myself quite the connoisseur, I've savoured many varieties of coffee in my time, I know my fair share.
This Antoccino isn't exactly top quality, the milk latte isn't quite steamed enough, leaving a so-so flavour, I'm not sure why Proteus chose this cheap café to hold an important rendezvous on this year's Hunger Games. There are much more impressive places, or he could've just seen me at work… He obviously doesn't want people to note our communication.
It takes a few minutes but eventually I spot Proteus coming towards the café, briefcase swinging cheerfully as he strolls along the sidewalk.
"Good day, Althea. How fares you?" Ooh! Chivalrous! Now, I've never seen this kind of attitude before.
"Fine, thank you," I say. I don't want to cut straight to business, so I try to latch onto his mood. "Why are you so happy today?"
"Ahh! Now, my dear, that's why I'm here." Damn, there goes that plan. I saw him eye me in a perverted way as he took his seat, so I'm fairly sure it's not that he isn't interested. After all, my goods are top quality, it's probably more likely his business is actually important.
Normally Proteus is shallow and treacherous, always trying to be in the right places at the right time, prepared to beat anyone to get where he wants and what he wants. He can be rude and angry but never have I ever seen him happy and excited, well at least where the general populous can see him.
Cheerfully, he pulls out his laptop, muttering something about flowers. He clicks on a few icons and then swivels the screen around so I can see it. Proteus looks different, his hair falls around his brow in a dark halo and his hollow cheeks smile with glee. "Here," he says, "I want you to make this."
I focus on the screen. At first, it doesn't make sense… but then I get it. It's genius, at least if I can pull it off. "Bugs?" I say, "Aren't they a bit… overused?"
"Yes. Quite. Plenty of Dawn's games included swarms of insects… but never anything quite like this. I'm going to take that idea and… revolutionise it, just like I did with the arena." Back at it again with the arena. Everyone thinks it was his idea, but I know Winchester Stocks is the one behind it. He treats it with such praise, it's hard to believe he could be so positive towards someone else's work.
My eyes glance down at the screen again. There's a diagram, containing six different types of bugs. They're all different in colour and they have a different description and name. Fear, Sorrow, Love, Happiness, Anger… Insanity. They look like a cross between a ladybug and some kind of spider.
"Yes… Yes, I think this is within my capabilities."
His face breaks into an even bigger smile. If that's possible. "Splendid!" He says. He digs around in his briefcase until he finds a thumb drive. "Here, this contains everything you need to know. I want them done before the parade. Got it?"
I nod. I never intended to be a major player in these games, but when you buy into something, there is never an easy way out.
Ophelia "Lia" White – District 3 Female
Age: 16
"In the battle of Brains Vs. Brawns there is never a clear winner."
"Honey," calls my mother, "Up. Now."
Already? I swear I fell asleep only moments ago… I must've been super tired after last night's celebrations.
Dad held quite the party last night, tonnes of people came over to celebrate his success with District 3's board of inventions. There was alcohol and I'm pretty sure I saw a kid smoking pot behind the shed out back. Contrary to popular belief, District 3 is quite the party place, I'm fairly certain we have the most alcoholics in the entirety of Panem, especially after what happened with Beetee and the decrease in the average income.
Beetee Latier's passing took its toll on the whole District.
I roll over, falling off my bed and onto the floor. Ouch. I'm not the biggest fan of parties so I just hid in my room the whole time, reading Gatsby, it's an awesome book and I definitely recommend it, you can't have my copy, though, I'm lending it to Liam, he has first dibs.
Untangling myself from my sheets, I waddle over to my wardrobe. Today is the day of the reapings, mum says you have to look 'nice' at the reapings. Personally, I don't see the point, it's not as if I'm going to get reaped.
I slide into a plain white t-shirt and pull on some fancy jeans. Mum won't exactly be pleased but I do not fuss, it's not as if anyone else is going to dress up fancily.
I douse my face in cold water and give it a bit of a scrub before walking downstairs.
My mother, Rachel, is the CEO of a software designing company, needless to say, she's a lot more successful than my father and she lets it be known that she's the main breadwinner. Dad doesn't care, he's too caught up in his inventions to worry about being the 'man' in the relationship, so it's a win-win for everyone. I guess you could call her smart, intellectual, apparently she's where I got my brains from. She's hardly motherly, though, I'm a lot closer to Dad than Mum, she's normally left for work by the time I wake up.
She cares a lot more about her work than about her only child, that's for sure.
"Hey, Mum. What's for breakfast?" I ask - a carefully chosen sentence to start off the day.
"Anything you like, Hon, it's an open pantry," she says with a smile. My mother is a small lady, only just taller than I am with the exact same blonde hair as me. She, however, cuts hers into a different style every month, whatever is considered a powerful haircut. At the moment its cut short into what's called a 'pixie cut'.
My face lights up into a grin, open pantry means hazelnut spread on croissants! I dash into the pantry and grasp the packet of croissants, there's two left. Perfect. I butter them quickly and slap some hazelnut spread on them before crunching into them, savouring the buttery goodness.
"Good morning Lia," says my Dad as he comes down the stairs. He's struggling with his tie, tying a tie is beyond his capabilities, that's mum's kind of thing.
He ruffles my hair. "Nice get-up."
"Seriously?" Asks Mum, "What happened to that cute yellow dress?"
"Sorry mum, I forgot," I chirp with a smile. "Thanks for the breakfast but I've got to dash if I want to get to the reapings on time."
I pick up my purse as I leave the building, Gatsby is inside it (For Liam) as well as another book, 'A Brave New World' by Aldous Huxley, you never know when you'll have a boredom emergency.
"Took you time!" says Ashley as I open the door.
I jump. She startled me. Seeing my shock she doubles over, laughing.
Let's make this clear. Ashley Adams is nothing like Ashland Grigsby, the similarities end at the first name. Ashley is a sweet and loveable redhead whereas Ashland… Well, you've already met her.
My parents make it their hobby to help out the District. Despite my father's affiliation with Beetee, we weren't as affected as others by the decreased income. Mum's career paid for it all. So they donate any surplus money to local families that are struggling through this hard time. That's how I met Ashley, she hated me at first, saying I was only nice to her because she was a 'charity case' but eventually we grew closer.
I'm not one of those people that have loads of friends. If someone likes me, then cool, I've got a friend but if they don't, oh well. I don't make it my hobby to go out and search for friends, I'm not that desperate, I've got my books, that's all I need.
"Sorry," I say, "I woke up literally two minutes ago."
"Oooh! Where you up late with Liam?" She says playfully, flashing me a wink.
I shake my head at her. "It's not like that Ashley. We're 16."
"Old enough, and remember if he ever does anything to hurt you I'll tear him a new one. Okay?" She says. I've never quite understood this side of Ashley, normally she's an average sweet girl but sometimes she gets super protective. And she's not a fan of my relationship with Liam, according to her he's a 'hot-head' and - trust me on this - that's not what it sounds like.
Ashley's the kind of girl you'd call a firecracker, she openly detests the Capitol, she lets everyone know it, even the peacekeepers. Dynamic? That's another word you could use to describe her.
It's raining as we check in - the peacekeeper stamps our bloody fingers onto a slip of paper – and head towards the sixteen-year-old girl's section.
I glance over at Liam as we take our place. He stands stock still, facing the stage, he's worried about being reaped, he has a lot of tesserae in this year.
As we wait, the girls surrounding me begin idle chit-chat so I grab out 'A Brave New World' and start reading. I lean my head over it so that it doesnt become sodden from the dismal downpour.
Eventually, Romina May takes the stage (She's our escort) along with Marissa and Anjin, the two mentors for this year.
Romina's dress is dizzying… I feel like I'm about to faint.
Romina May – District 3 Escort
Age: 41
I'm a skilled escort.
I really am, no one is better at this job than me. No one.
19 years in the business and I've brought home two victors. Only career Districts and 10 have better ratios than that, so I must be good.
It's raining at the moment, what an unpleasant day for the 103rd reapings. I mean, for our District, there have been worse reapings, one year a cyclone tore through the District right as I announced the tribute's name. Unfortunately, the chosen tribute died in the cyclone and we had to redraw, needless to say, President Coriolanus Snow wasn't happy.
He's dead now, I don't have to worry about him.
Being a successful escort, it's all about how you treat your tributes. If you're too nice they start to like you and then you start to like them and all the entanglements become too much. Trust me, I know. So you have to keep them at arm's length. That is the only way of bringing a tribute home successfully.
You have to be strict and stern, if they get out of line you have to show them who's boss. Though not too harsh, that's when the younger tributes get scared and are worried about asking for help. 19 years in the business and I have that mastered, I am neither too harsh nor too kind to them (Though they may tell you different).
"Rom," says my bodyguard, "Head Peacekeeper Sentius is ready."
"Umbrella," I say my voice showing no emotion. My bodyguard is below me, he is an unnecessary complication to my job, he's only here because some stupid rebels have been attacking the escorts in District 5. Idiots, what kind of person thinks they can take down the Capitol? It's all on the shoulders of Coriolanus Snow and his stupid offspring. We need someone capable in charge, like Dawn for example.
Gerard – That's my insignificant bodyguard's name – passes me an umbrella. It's huge with a floral decoration that perfectly complements my superb attire. I'm wearing a beautiful and gorgeous Evangeline blouse, part pirate, part romantic neo-Victorian explorer and covered in intricate patterns. It's simply stunning really, I just love the fashions of the past, people had amazing ideas back then
Gerard and I walk in silence down the cement pathways leading to the justice building. Rain pitter-patters on my umbrella and drips elegantly off it, heading in multiple directions and keeping the dirty rain off my sterling figure.
Fortunately, the stage out the front of the Justice building is covered, though the citizens of three have to wait in the dismal rain.
I'm quick to the punch, I know the people in the Capitol want to know which tributes they will see this year and I'm not one to go against other people's advice.
I feel no remorse as I pull out the male tribute's name, straight after the brief formalities. I love my job and the Hunger Games are the reason it exists. This boy should be honoured.
"Miles Wattkinson!" I announce.
A muscular boy in the seventeen-year-old section steps forward. He doesn't appear exactly pleased with this outcome, though I'm sure he's glad to be out of the rain. He glares as he takes the stage, I despise tributes like that. Always trying to make the worst out of things, behaviour is important, if I want this boy to go far he has to learn to behave.
I notice Anjin exchange a brief smile with Marissa. They're the two mentor's for this year, I brought Anjin home but Marissa was before my time. She won at twelve years old, now that is an impressive feat. Anjin nods, I assume he's going to mentor Miles.
"Any volunteers?" I ask. It's a hopeless venture, we haven't had any volunteers in the past few years.
A strange giggling sound erupts from the crowd and a boy runs forward from the eighteen-year-old section. He looks insane, he's giggling and laughing, he's all over the place and his baby blue shirt is doused in rain, it hangs from his figure. He looks like a creature from a nightmare.
"I VOLUNTEER AS THINGY!" He declares as he sprints up the steps and onto the stage. I gesture the microphone towards him, hoping to catch his vibe, why did he volunteer? But he just snatches it from my grasp (How rude) and sticks the head of it into his mouth.
The sound of his wet tongue slapping against it boom around the square. You can hear a deep gurgling sound coming from his throat and some muttered words about ice-cream.
Miles leaps off the stage, relief clear on his face. I have to say, now that I think about it, Miles would have been a better option.
It takes a while but eventually some peacekeepers manage to wrench the microphone from the insane boy's hand and pin him down. He lies on the floor with two peacekeepers straddling him and a roll of cloth in his mouth.
This boy's attitude is disgusting, he has absolutely no manners, hopefully, I can straighten him up during the trip to the Capitol. Otherwise, he won't have any sponsors. Drama. That's the only thing going for him, that and being insane which usually draws in some wacky sponsors.
After a minute everyone calms down (The only exception being a hunchbacked old man who is weeping down in the viewers section, though you can hardly tell, the rain is almost covering it up. How could anyone mourn an insane boy like that?)
"Well!" I holler, "That, was exciting!"
A few people utter some weak laughs, not exactly an amazing response.
"Now, time to find out which female tribute shall fight for District three's honour in the 103rd Annual Hunger Games!" I strut over to the female bowl, my splendid Evangeline blouse bouncing along with my footsteps.
"Ophelia White!" I announce.
I peruse the crowd of girls. They're all unimpressive, at least with the rain. Most of them wear dull clothing and hold an emotionless look on their face. Beetee Latier's death didn't exactly affect our District in a positive way. The average income has dropped substantially.
A girl in the sixteen-year-old section steps forward, a brave look on her face. She looks fairly simple, average for this District. She has plain blonde hair that goes down just past her shoulders and then curves inwards, giving her an intellectual look. Her eyes are a watery blue, not very outstanding in the cosmetic department, hopefully she has at least half a brain. She's small in size, probably about 5'5" and she boasts a little bit of muscle on her arms.
She seems okay, better than the boy at least. Marissa and I can work with her, who knows, we might have a victor this year!"
I hand her the microphone and she holds it between two fingers, it still has slobber dripping off it from that disgusting boy. "Ophelia White," she says, "I've got brains, so don't count me out just yet."
A few people clap and the boy on the ground starts to moan. A long guttural sound.
Damn, this is going to be a long month.
Gadge Lotus – District 3 Male
Age: 18
"I'm crazy and I don't pretend to be anything else."
"Gadge!" He cries. "Why did you do that? Was it something I did, something I said?"
I giggle to myself, what a fool. My pops actually thinks I did this for him. No, this decision was completely mine and it was a good decision. That shiny ice-cream cone tasted delicious!
This room is amazing, there are lots of shiny things, a chandelier is hanging from the roof, if only I could touch it and lick it. I think it would taste really good, probably even better than the shiny ice-cream cone. I look down at my body, I'm wearing a shiny purple shirt, decorated with sequins that looks really swell with my dark wash jeans. And my feet, they're really big, pops once said that they were the biggest he's ever seen. And that was a nice thing to say, so I always leave my feet out of my shoes, so that everyone can see how big they are.
My bare feet feel really nice when I rub them through the fluffy carpet. This place is nicer than the laundry room!
"Don't worry pops, I'll be back soon!" I say, hoping to make him see clearly but he just shakes his head.
"Gadge, do you understand what you've gotten yourself into," he asks, "do you even have a strategy.
I giggle to myself again, remembering the flavour of that shiny ice-cream cone/microphone. "Of course!"
He looks at me with his eyebrows raised. He always says I'm 'impulsive', (whatever that means) and that I don't think before I act. He's clearly surprised that I actually have a plan. "Well," he says, "Colour me surprised. What is it?"
"If it's tasty, eat it. If it's moving, kill it. If it looks fun, it's fun and if it's shiny, lick it," I say, beaming at him. Now he has to be proud, I'm going to be a victor.
He looks at me - dumbfounded. He shakes his head. "How on earth did I end up with you?"
"My parents went missing when I was five and you said –" I begin but he cuts me off.
"Son. That's what you call a rhetorical question, you don't answer it. You're going to have to learn fast if you want to come home." He says.
I glare at him. "And that's what you call interrupting people. It's rude."
The smallest hint of a smile starts to creep across his face. "I'll miss you," he says.
God. I hate soppy, sad situations. I know! "Hey, pops. Guess what?" I ask him.
"What?"
"I got to lick the ice-cream cone!"
We sit there in silence for a while, he just stares at the ground.
"Gadge, do you have a token?" He asks.
"Oh. Yes, pops, I got it this morning," I say. I dig around in my pocket for a bit until I find it. It's kind of slippery but it's the best I could do. "Your teeth! See? I stole them from your bedside table, they're really shiny. Don't you think?"
There you go!
Who'd you like better? Ophelia or Gadge?
What did you think of Romina?
What about Althea?
The mutts?
Ice-cream cone rhymes with microphone... XD
I hope Ophelia didn't seem like too much of a Mary-Sue, she wasn't meant too.
I hope this chapter didn't seem more oriented around Althea and Romina than Gadge and Ophelia, that was a mistake.
What District do you guys think I should do next? I'm leaning towards District 5 because I have a little bit of an inspiration for it but I'll definitely take your opinions into consideration.
Remember, reviewing makes your tributes have less chance of being a bloodbath.
Okay, so, here's the important authors note.
MAKE SURE YOU READ THIS PLEASE!
At the start of the story, I decided to do a sponsorship program with readers being awarded points for certain things as well as them being able to buy things for the tributes. I've been recently alerted that this might not have been the greatest idea for many reasons. 1, it kind of makes me relinquish control of the tributes a little more than I should. 2, keeping a record of everyone's points is a challenge in its own right, originally I didn't think this many people would be interested in Campaign. 3, including sponsorship items in my story, will be difficult. Making sure they get them at the right time and if I am halfway through a chapter when I get the sponsorship it will make it extremely difficult to add it to the storyline and I may have to rewrite entire chapters. There are some benefits, however, it gets the readers more involved in the story and may make for greater excitement in the story as well as interesting plot twists.
Don't worry, this doesn't mean I am cancelling it, at least not yet. The sponsorship program may still be part of the story. What I want is your opinions, should I keep it or is it okay if I get rid of it? Will anyone be really annoyed if I drop it completely? So, I'll put a poll up on my profile, make sure you check that out. Also, make sure you include your opinion in your review.
#DORYFORPRESIDENT
Until Next Time! :D
