Chase Holloway, 15

District 5, She/Her

November 15th, 96 ADD

7:04 PM

tw: mention of gun violence

She'd only just turned the corner when Winter came sprinting down the hallway, her hands flying.

"Slow down," Chase said, signing the word for slow as she spoke, and then what. Even then, Winter's hands were moving so fast that she could barely keep up.

Here- capture- don't know- enemy- talk- go-

Spark-

Chase's blood ran cold. "What?"

Here- capture-

"Where?"

Interrogation room-

Chase took off in the direction Winter had come, weaving through the halls of her underground base so quickly that she nearly slammed into a few walls. She'd only found the facility a few months ago- it was once used to monitor a dam, but it had long been abandoned- and the group was just starting to feel settled in their new base.

(As she ran, she hoped Winter was wrong. If Spark was here, they were all in danger of a Peacekeeper raid. They were still too fragile to withstand another.)

(She still hadn't shaken the horror of the last one.)

Chase arrived at the old office they'd labeled their interrogation room, Winter on her heels. There were three others in the room. Raiden was a newer recruit, as well as a guard. She and Spring went way back- they'd been doing heists long before Chase joined.

And tied up in the chair, his hair disheveled and his nose bleeding, was Spark.

He raised his head, his dark eyes meeting hers. A smirk brushed his lips as he said, "Hey, Holloway."

Chase's hands curled into fists. "Don't talk to me like that."

"Like what?"

"Like I'm your friend."

He pouted. "You don't have to be like that."

Chase forced herself to look away, towards Spring. "Why is he here?"

"Raiden found him."

Raiden nodded his agreement. "I was about to switch patrols, and I found him outside," he said. "So I punched him in the face."

Chase's eyes widened.

"Hard enough to knock him out," Spring added, seeing her concern. "So no, he doesn't know exactly where he is."

Spark shrugged as much as he could in his bindings. "I have a pretty good idea."

Chase strode over and slapped him so hard her hand stung. "Shut it," she snapped.

"Chase," Spring murmured.

Chase whirled around. "After everything he did?" she cried. "After he-"

"You're freaking Winter out," Spring said, still quiet. "Calm down."

Chase glanced at Winter- her friend was paler than normal. Chase took a deep breath.

"If I didn't know better, I'd think I should be scared," Spark commented.

Chase was ready to raise a fist, but a look from Spring cut her off. "Why are you here?" she demanded instead. "To- to fucking sell us out again? Is that it?"

"I was minding my own business. You guys are the ones who kidnapped me today."

"You were the one who betrayed us."

"I was given an offer. I took it." Spark leaned back, sizing her up. "So what? You're leading the heists now?"

"I'm not the leader."

"Then who is?"

"No one."

(It wasn't untrue. There was no official leader anymore. Not since the last raid. But Chase couldn't deny the weight of responsibility on her shoulders. A lot of kids looked to her now for opinions and decisions, and it was a responsibility Chase still didn't feel ready to take. She was just doing her best. They all were.)

Spark snorted. "God, you guys are a mess."

"We're doing just fine," Chase retorted. "Better, even, now that you're gone."

"If you were doing better, you wouldn't be in this old, musty building," Spark said. "How many kids do you have now?"

"None of your business."

"I know you've still been pulling off heists," he said. "There's been two reports of robberies in the last month. Both included descriptions of people wearing animal masks."

Spring cut in. "If you're looking for money, you're not finding any here," they said. "You know we never keep more than we need."

Spark's amusement slipped. "I know," he snapped. "You all think you're fucking heroes. Stealing from rich people and giving the money to those kids. It's ridiculous. You always have been."

"It's not ridiculous," Chase said, her cheeks hot. "Five's homeless population is huge. We've all been the orphans on the streets- we know what that's like- and just because you would leave them to die doesn't mean we should, when we could help. You showed me that. Tye showed me that."

"And where is Tye now?" Spark shouted.

Chase didn't hesitate. She let her fist fly, hitting Spark's nose with a crack. He shrieked with pain, doubling over in his chair as Spring darted forward and pulled Chase back.

"Calm down," Spring murmured.

"He killed him," Chase sobbed. She hadn't realized she started crying. "He killed Tye."

(She'd never had a family. But when the orphanage had closed, pushing her to the streets, she'd found Spark, and Spark brought her to Tye. He was older and smarter with a smile that shined like the sun, and he showed her that her life could be better. His heists were his way of setting the world right, and he'd seen potential in her. He pulled her up from her despair and loved her like a sister, and she'd loved him too.)

(And then Spark had turned on them all, and the Peacekeepers had come.)

(It only took one bullet. They still shot him ten times.)

Winter was at her side, tears sliding down her cheeks, too, and she pulled Chase into her arms. Spring stepped forward, taking over the interrogation.

"You're not here by accident," they said. "But you're never coming back here, and you're not ratting us out again, either. Understand?"

Spark glared at them. "You could at least pay me for my silence."

Spring swiftly kicked Spark in the shins, making him screech. "You're lucky we're letting you go," they said. "If you tell anyone… all it takes is one survivor to find and kill you." They turned to Raiden. "Knock him out and take him as far away as you can."

Winter pulled Chase from the room. Okay? she signed.

No, Chase answered, her fingers clumsy with grief.

(She missed Tye. She missed his leadership. She missed feeling safe.)

Winter nodded and hugged her again. Chase could only sob.

Patrek Torres, 15

District 11, He/Him

Dcember 1st, 96 ADD

5:48 AM

Every day before he left for work, Patrek stopped by his dad's room to say goodbye.

He tapped his knuckles gently against the door, setting his backpack down beside it. "Dad?" he called.

"Come in."

Patrek opened the door, finding his father where he always was- in his bed, propped up on pillows. He hadn't seen his dad up and about in a few months.

Upon seeing him, his father cracked a weary grin. "Heading to work early?"

"Couldn't sleep," Patrek admitted.

(His dad had been coughing through the night. Every wheeze pulled Patrek back from the bliss that was sleep- and Patrek needed a break from reality, badly. But he couldn't forget his father's pain last night, because each cough reminded Patrek that he was running out of time.

And there was nothing Patrek could do about it.)

His dad nodded stiffly. "Sorry, bud."

Patrek shrugged. "It's okay."

"I don't want to keep you. Tell Pome hello for me, alright?"

"Of course."

"Bye, bud. Love you."

"Love you too, Dad."

And even though Patrek desperately wanted to hug his father goodbye, he did not. Instead, as he had for over a year now, he kept his distance. Just in case. He waved, then stepped away and shut the door behind him.

As soon as the door was closed, the coughing started again. Patrek buried his head in his hands, taking deep breaths to keep himself steady.

(It had been… years, now, of watching his dad wither away. But these last few months, with his father gaunt and bedbound, had been a special sort of hell. At least before, Patrek had felt like there was still time. His dad was sick, but he hadn't felt like he was going to die.

He couldn't comfort himself with that anymore.)

Patrek pulled himself together and grabbed his backpack, making for the door. He heard his mom and his sister moving around the house, too, getting ready for the day, but he didn't stop to say goodbye to them.

(Unlike his dad, he was confident he'd see them alive when he returned.)

Patrek had never been the best student, and given his dad's condition, it had only made sense to drop out. In the winter, instead of heading to the fields, he worked in a greenhouse. It was hard, careful work, but he didn't mind it so much. Especially because he was able to work with Pome.

"Hey, kid," Pome called. He was down at the end of another row, pruning the delicate hanging plants that Capitolites so loved. He was the tallest man that worked in the greenhouse, and this task was usually delegated to him. "Morning."

"Morning," Patrek called back. He made a brief stop by the supply room to drop off his backpack and grab a watering can before returning to Pome.

"How's the family?" Pome asked good-naturedly.

"Mom's good," Patrek replied, beginning to water a row of flowers. "Wren has been… a lot."

"How old is she again?"

"Twelve."

Pome nodded knowingly. "Tweens."

Patrek wrinkled his nose. "She keeps yelling at me," he said. "Like yesterday she got mad that I was 'walking around the house too loud.'"

"She'll grow out of it," Pome said. "Once my daughter hit her twenties, she was much more tolerable."

"Her twenties?" Patrek asked, despairing. "That's so far away."

Pome grinned. "It'll come sooner than you realize."

"That's eight years. That's more than half my life so far."

"Someday you'll see what I mean." Pome reached for another branch, holding it gently between his fingers. "How's your old man?" he asked, keeping his tone casual.

Patrek paused. "He's… coughing."

"Yeah?"

"A lot."

"Sorry to hear it."

"He also says hello."

"Tell him I hope he feels better soon, yeah?"

"Okay."

Patrek made a trip to refill his watering can, then started to work his way back down the other side of the row. Patrek was the best waterer- each plant needed a very specific amount, and he was always the most careful with his measurements. Silence settled over him as he focused on his task.

Pome kept glancing at him as he trimmed a second hanging plant. As soon as Patrek was only a few plants away, he asked, "Are you all right, kid?"

"Fine," he replied, keeping his head down as he topped off another plant.

"You've been quiet for a few days," Pome observed. "If anything's bothering you, feel free to talk about it, alright?"

Patrek considered this. He could feel Pome keeping an eye on him as he watered two more pots. Pome was several years older than his dad, and he'd always been a good friend to Patrek. Since he was no longer in school, it was nice to have someone outside of his family to talk to.

Especially when it was his family he wanted to talk about.

"The other day," Patrek said, keeping his eyes down, "I heard my dad talking to my mom."

"Yeah?"

"He said something about… how, like… he was looking forward to seeing Lucia again. Since it had been so long."

"Lucia was your sister, right?"

Patrek nodded.

(He was eight at the time. Lucia was nine.)

(His big sister was his best friend. She was funnier and smarter than him, but she never made Patrek feel bad about it. He'd never tried to hide how much he looked up to her. She was untouchable. She was his world.)

(And then she got sick, and she died, and Patrek's world ended.)

(And now his dad was sick too, and he was dying, and now Patrek's world was ending all over again.)

"I'm sorry, kid," Pome said, his voice gentle. "That's really hard."

Patrek nodded, his eyes still on the watering can.

"I can see how that would upset you."

He nodded again, his throat tight.

"If you ever need anything from me, you let me know, okay?"

"I will."

He glanced up at Pome. Pome offered him a sad smile. "You're a good kid, Patrek."

(If only being a good kid would make everything all right again. But it hadn't saved Lucia, and it wouldn't save his dad, either.)

He offered a strained smile of his own. "Thanks, Pome."

"Of course."

Aescelin Ibbara-Ixtal, 18

District 7, He/Him

December 21st, 96 ADD

2:34 PM

tw: gore

"So I have a few concerns," Florus said, sitting down on a nearby log.

"I am busy," Aescelin replied, keeping his eyes on his preparations. "The Winter Solstice is tonight. This is not the time, Florus."

"No need to speak. Simply listen."

Aescelin glanced up at the other boy. Florus was about his age, with light features and dark eyes. Usually, Aescelin was able to find mischief in those eyes, but not today. "What is it?"

"There are concerns about the winter."

"Such as?"

Florus frowned. "We've been established in these woods for less than a year. We haven't survived a winter outdoors before."

"We will."

"Not with our current food supply," Florus said. "Or the amount of new converts."

"We will," Aescelin insisted. "Have faith."

"Do you?"

"Of course."

(Of course not. His belief in the supernatural was more recent- more shakable- than he wished. He was incredibly aware of the fact that he'd first attracted his following with lies. Aescelin had only found the truth in his words some time later, and such an oversight instilled fear in him.

What if, in fooling everyone else, he'd also tricked himself?)

Florus cocked his head. "There is room," he said, "for both supernatural and practical."

"What do you mean?"

"We can both make spiritual preparations-" he gestured to Aescelin's supplies- "and increase our foraging. I see no harm in it, especially as I believe I am not the only one harboring such concerns. It might instill reassurance in others as well."

Aescelin nodded slowly. "Ritual today," he said. "Survival preparations tomorrow."

Florus grinned back at him, and his smile was bright enough to coax one from Aescelin, too.

(Aescelin had been feeling the loneliness of his leadership more than ever lately. He was fortunate to have such a… friend… by his side, even as his following grew.)

Dusk had only just begun to settle when a low-pitched horn rang through Aescelin's woods. Aescelin perked up from where he'd been supervising the building of the ceremonial pyre- they'd burn it at midnight. He reached for a knife, sheathing it in his sleeve.

"Intruder!"

"Continue the pyre," he commanded. Then he ran towards the sound of the call, Florus close behind him. He kept his pace quick enough that his cloak- ceremonial green, in preparation for the Solstice- fluttered behind him, but not so quick he appeared disheveled. Soon enough, a pair of scouts became visible, both restraining a third man. Whatever had occurred, he was in command. This was his forest, and he reigned over the people within.

As he arrived, one of the scouts began to speak. "We found-"

Aescelin lifted a hand upon seeing the intruder. "No need."

"What the hell is this?" Codrin asked. "Is this where you've been the whole time?"

Aescelin smiled. "I knew you'd come to me someday, brother," he said.

"What the fuck are you wearing?"

"You'll learn with time," he told Codrin. He hadn't seen his older brother in months, but Codrin hadn't changed much- dark wavy hair, cut much shorter than Aescelin's, stubborn black eyes, brown skin. "Every convert does."

"Convert?" Codrin asked. He scowled. "I'm not here to join in your witchy bullshit, Aescelin."

"Tread carefully," Aescelin hissed. "The Spirit doesn't look favorably on such an attitude."

"Will you tell them to let me go already?" Codrin asked.

Aescelin lifted his nose. "Codrin," he said, "you are either a convert or an intruder."

"I'm not joining your freak show!"

"Intruder it is," Aescelin replied. He addressed the scouts. "Bring him to the central clearing."

The scouts began to muscle Codrin deeper into the forest, despite Codrin's resistance. Florus hung back with Aescelin.

"Your brother?" he muttered.

"Yes."

"And you're sure-"

"He's an intruder, Florus," Aescelin said. "I would be a hypocrite to turn my back on the Spirit of the Forest in this manner, especially on the Solstice."

Florus put a hand on his arm. "I support you. I simply wanted to acknowledge the difficulty."

For a moment, Aescelin let himself enjoy the warmth of his friend's hand. "Appreciated," he finally said. "But right now… work to be done."

"Agreed."

"My devoted followers!" Aescelin shouted. "On our sacred Solstice day, we are reminded of District Seven's greed. Yet another intruder has come, attempting to claim the woods from our great Spirit."

"Aescelin," Codrin shrieked. He'd been tied to a tree in front of the crowd. "Aescelin, please-"

"We cannot allow this infraction to stand!" he roared.

The crowd roared their approval back.

"We will offer this intruder back to the wilderness as we always do!"

"Aescelin-"

He pulled his knife from his sleeve as he strode toward his brother. Codrin began to thrash in his bindings. Aescelin slammed Codrin's head back into the tree trunk as he brought the knife to Codrin's cheek.

"First," he murmured, "to renew."

Swiftly, he carved the rune into his brother's flesh. Renew.

Codrin started to scream. Aescelin stepped back, letting the next follower- Florus- carve a rune. Florus chose Cleanse. The next follower chose Rebirth, and then Life, and Generosity, and dozens more until every inch of exposed skin was bleeding anew with symbols, one for each follower.

"Second," Aescelin cried, "to reconnect."

Two men, each with axes carved with their own runes, lifted the weapons above their heads. Together, they swung them into Codrin's arms, severing his hands from his wrists and provoking an inhuman scream. More came forward, strapping sticks to his bleeding stumps, with some going so far as to insert them into the wound.

"Aescelin," Codrin sobbed, barely intelligible. "Aescelin, please-"

"Finally," Aescelin interrupted, his smile righteous, "to revenge."

"Aescelin!"

Another follower stepped forward, but Aescelin held up a hand.

He would do this himself.

Aescelin approached his bleeding, crying brother. "This could have been different," he murmured. "You could have joined me. But no- you have never given me a chance."

Codrin wept. "Please-"

"May the Spirit condemn you," he shouted, still inches from Codrin's face, spit flying. "And may your body nourish the Earth more than your destruction has harmed it."

"Aescelin-"

He tore his knife through Codrin's windpipe. He watched, unflinchingly, as Codrin choked and went still.

He turned back to his followers. "To the Spirit!" he shrieked.

"To the Spirit!" they cried back.

(The Spirit of the Woods was real. And with it, Aescelin was a force of nature himself.)

and with that, intros are also heading into a new year! thank you to nautics for submitting chase, tyrantrumofastora for submitting patrek, and thewatcherofthevoid for submitting aescelin! i had a great time with all three! thank you also to laney for your assistance with this one!

updates are not always this quick i swear. but fool's gold started off slow enough! now we are movin and groovin!

ummm yeah that's it from me. happy monday, and i'll see you guys next time with our intro interlude of mallory + qibli!

rb