Falline Tamori; District Six


When Falline Tamori first woke, she kept her eyes closed for a few moments before blearily opening them. Although she had awoken on her own terms, Falline still felt quite tired, like she hadn't had a good night's sleep.

She was lying against a slightly crumbling brick wall, her feet tucked beside her as to not trip anybody as they walked by and draw attention to her sleeping form. Falline noticed she was still wearing her shoes. Her cheek felt red and raw, as it had been pressed and scraped against the wall. Raising a hand to the skin, she realized the flesh was bleeding slightly, with little bits of brick, like small pebbles, were stuck to her face. She gently rubbed at her cheek, wincing as the scratches began to sting. Satisfied that the little pieces of the wall were out of her cheek, Falline stood up, her legs still wobbly from sleep.

"Ah, so the little princess is awake?"

A normal person would have been startled, even frightened, by this sudden statement, but Falline just chuckled.

"Oh, she is. And hungry too. Got any food, Rikash?"

A man stepped quietly out of the shadows of the alley. He had a friendly face, but Falline had seen it contorted with anger one too many times. His shaggy grayish-black hair fell in front of his eyes, concealing most of them from view. He was smirking, as he always was when he was teasing Falline. Other than Wolf, the lead fighter of the gang, she was his favorite. He had adopted her when she was young, even though he was only five years older than her. They had always shared a sibling-like affection for each other, though, unlike most siblings, they never fought. Sometimes Rikash couldn't resist teasing Falline, but she didn't mind it. Sarcasm was also a strong point of hers.

"Anything for my little princess," Rikash grinned and pulled out a wing of some kind of bird. Though it looked cold and stringy, Falline fell upon the food. She hadn't eaten since yesterday, at noon, and she was starving. While she gnawed on the bone, Rikash took the opportunity to speak.

"So, the Reaping. Are you nervous?"

"Not really," Falline muttered over her bone. "I didn't have to take out any tesserae, thanks to you guys."

Rikash smiled. "There's still a chance."

Falline rolled her eyes. "I'm only fourteen. That's...what? Three slips in the bowl? I know some kids have, like, twenty. Got any more of these?" She waved the bone, which she had picked clean with her teeth.

Rikash tossed her another wing. "Let's say you were picked. What would you do?"

She let out an exasperated sigh. "Outsmart the other tributes. Shouldn't be hard, should it?"

He laughed, a loud, raucous sound. "Sounds like an excellent plan, missy."

Falline narrowed her eyes. Although she was good at picking out sarcasm from statements, Rikash's words dripped with it. "Yeah? What would you do?"

"Well, unlike you, I seem to have gotten myself out of eligibility relatively unscathed." Falline threw her first bone at him. He ducked, but not fast enough. It hit him on the left temple.

"Because you were lucky," she retorted, finishing the rest of her second wing. "You can't brag about something that was based on luck."

Rikash raised his eyebrows, which were already hidden by his hair. "Oh yeah? Says who?"

"Says me," she said, raising her bone threateningly.

"All right, all right." He protected his face with his hands, in case the feisty fourteen-year-old decided to chuck the white object at him anyway. "I'm just saying. You have to have a plan."

"A plan for something that might not even happen?" Falline questioned. "Come on, Rikash. The chances of me being picked are one in thousands. I have three slips. Just three slips." She murmured her last three words to herself over and over.

Just three slips. Just three slips.

Rikash looked slightly affronted. "I'm just trying to help you, Falline. No need to get all worked up.

"I'm...I'm sorry." Her breath caught in her throat when she said those words. This was the fourth time in her life she remembered saying them. Once when she had gotten a tattoo of a black cat on her right shoulder blade, even though Rikash told her not to; that she was too young and the tattoo cost far too much money anyways. In the end, the gang leader began to grow accustomed to the tattoo. Falline's stealth and skill brought back the money quickly, and it was also a great symbol. In a way, Falline was like a cat, agile and nimble, cunning and clever. The tattoo, in a way, symbolized herself.

The second time she had apologized was when she had accidentally set off an alarm while the others were robbing a shop near the town square. The group got out safely but they left behind priceless items. Since that unfortunate occurrence, Falline had been extra-careful; she wouldn't permit herself to make the same mistake again.

The third time was when she had lost a very expensive necklace on her way to the Black Market. It was very beautiful; a rarity in District Six. The chain was made out of pure silver, with a beautiful sapphire set into a shining pendant. Falline remembered clutching it in her fist, trying desperately to make sure no one saw the chain or the sapphire, that no one recognized the priceless piece of jewelry. When she checked again, the necklace was gone. Though she was never sure what had happened to it, she was pretty certain it had slipped out of her grasp while she had been busy worming her way through the crowd. The necklace never resurfaced.

Now this. It was the first time in months, maybe even years, that she had apologized. She felt weird as the words escaped her lips. Falline never said "sorry" if she didn't mean it; a fact Rikash knew very well. His gaze softened and he ruffled her spiky black hair affectionately.

"That's okay. Now, better start getting ready. You wouldn't want to look bad to the Reaping!"

Falline sighed and stretched. She lithely made her way around the various trash bags and other junk in the alley towards a door, dark and nearly concealed in the shadows. It wasn't much of a door, really. Less than half of it remained. It hung slightly open, one of its hinges missing. Most of the top half was gone, though the part nearest the missing hinge still remained. The entire door was lopsided, even the frame was slightly crumbling. Falline smiled when she saw the door. Even though it let in unwanted drafts and pests, she still liked it. It meant "home" to her. She didn't know if she could bear it if the door was replaced.

Nimbly Falline made her way through the gap between the frame and the wood, quickly followed by Rikash. The place smelled of mold and alcohol, but she didn't mind it. She had grown accustomed to the sometimes revolting smell over the past couple years. It was normal to her now.

The main room was quiet at the moment; empty, vacant. She guessed that most of the gang were out and about or still asleep. Through the dark, she managed to find the stairs that lead to her room. Falline was lucky enough to have it to herself, being the only girl in the entire group. She found herself alone; Rikash had left her side. Without so much as a backward glance to see where he could have disappeared to, Falline made her way to her "room" and closed the rotting door behind her.

It really wasn't much; Falline's bedroom. Her bed lay across the far side, a small table lamp set beside it. That was it for furniture, apart from a moth-eaten arm chair in one corner that had most likely been taken from the District dump. Across one wall lay five piles of clothing. The gang couldn't afford a dresser. Without really thinking, Falline chose a black shirt from the first pile, black tights from the second pile and a dark gray mini-skirt from the third. Finally, she chose a black belt from the fourth, rather messy, pile.

Almost subconsciously, Falline changed into her new outfit. Lastly, she pulled on a pair of black combat boots that lay next to the fifth pile; short and pants. Having nothing to check her reflection in, Falline simply looked down and admired the effect. If she was picked, and that was a big If, she would already appear "edgy and dangerous" without any help from her prep team and stylists. Falline smiled.

Perfect.

Slowly, she walked down the stairs. The concrete was crumbling, like the rest of the building, but she had long since gotten over her fear of falling off. It had lasted this long, why not a couple more years?

Rikash was standing by the door. He wolf-whistled jokingly when he saw her, and Falline punched him lightly in the arm. They began to walk down to the town square.

"Will Wolf and Kalli be there?" She questioned, referring to her two best friends.

"Of course," Rikash replied, smiling down at her. "They could be tributes too, couldn't they?"

"Oh yeah." To be honest, Falline had totally forgotten that Wolf and Kalli were only fifteen and were eligible to be Reaped too. They just seemed so...so mature. Anyway, Wolf was an expert when it came to fighting (he was, after all, the lead fighter of the gang) and Kalli was extremely smart. There was no use worrying about them, Falline was sure they could both make it out alive. Unless...unless Kalli or Wolf and I was Reaped. No, don't think about that. The chances of that happening are...one in a million. There's still a chance, though. No, stop it! You can't think that way!

Feeling suddenly queasy, she quickened her pace. Rikash, with his longer legs, didn't have to work hard to keep up with her.

"Feeling nervous?" He questioned, looking down at her, his gray eyes concerned.

"No, of course not," Falline lied. "I just want to get there before it starts."

"So you can prove me wrong?" He grinned, and she just scowled.

"Very funny."

Sooner than Falline would have liked, they found themselves in the town square. She and Rikash were separated as Falline was herded into the fourteens' section by a Peacekeeper in a white uniform. Once in her place, she stood on tiptoe to look around, and immediately spotted Wolf's fluffy white-blond hair with all the other fifteen-year-olds. Apparently he was looked for her too, because he caught her eye and gave a small smile. The slightly shorter Kalli was also standing next to him, with his long black hair and unusually dark blue eyes. He turned, saw her looking at him, and gave a broad grin.

"You look great," he mouthed, still smiling.

"Thanks," she mouthed back, and then the mayor began to speak.

He was a tall but stooped man with short, wispy gray hair. He had wire-rimmed glasses that rested on a rather unappealing pug nose. When he began to speak, the faulty microphone he was using echoed everything he said, providing an unpractical, but very amusing, effect.

"We gather here today..." We gather here today...

"In honor of the Capitol..." In honor of the Capitol...

"Whose acts of mercy..." Whose acts of mercy...

Falline caught Wolf's eye and had to cover her mouth to stop herself from giggling. She didn't bother listening to the rest of the speech, preferring instead to watch a little ant crawling beside a crack in the stone.

"And now for our escort, the lovely Candra Aurora!" And now for our escort, the lovely Candra Aurora!

Falline almost had to cover her eyes as Candra walked onto the stage. She was a bright yellow woman, so bright that she seemed to be glowing. Her banana-yellow hair was piled on top of her head in the strangest fashion. The bright orange color of her cheeks gave her the impression to be permanently blushing. Although she was far from being plump, she had a round face and a double chin. Falline guessed she had neglected her face when she had gotten the surgery done. She almost wanted to shield her eyes.

"Ladies first!" She shrieked without bothering to use the microphone, her extremely long-nailed fingers diving into the bowl holding Falline's name. Although she was not a particularly superstitious person, she crossed her fingers. All she could do now was hope.

Candra pulled a name from the bowl and squinted, trying to make out the name.

"Erm, Falline Tamori! Come on up, you lucky lady!"

Falline's heart stopped cold. She couldn't breathe, she couldn't move. Maybe someone will volunteer for you? No, don't be stupid, this is District Six. No one in their right mind would volunteer for you.

Although it felt like eternity, only a second had actually passed since Candra had read Falline's name. Slowly, ever so slowly, she began to make her way to the stage. The crowd parted easily. Some people were looking at her with sympathy, others with relief, still others with mixed emotions. She felt sick.

"Why, what a wonderful tribute we have here! Congratulations, Falline! Now for the male tribute!" Candra skipped across the stage to the second glass bowl and plucked a name out. A boy in the thirteens' section was called. As he neared the stage, Falline saw that tears were rolling out of his eyes.

What a wimp, she thought to herself. He took his place, they shook hands, and that was it.

Looks like you were right, Rikash. Now all I've got to do is come up with a Game plan, so to speak.


Athena Argos; District Two


Athena Argos was never a morning person.

She was also never the luckiest of people.

Therefore, of course Athena had to be awake at the crack of dawn. Training. Although usually she didn't mind it, she didn't like getting up early. Especially when everyone else was sleeping in.

Athena's hair was still mussed from sleep, her eyelids still heavy. She kept looking over her shoulder, to see if her father had entered the large training center. If Jupiter Argos noticed his daughter's usually impeccable aim was off, she would never be allowed to volunteer. Now that Athena was eighteen; this was her last chance to get revenge on the tributes from District Eleven.

Athena winced and the knife she was about to throw went off its target and hit the wall. Four years ago, Athena's older sister Artemis had volunteered for the Games. They had thought she would win; be the next victor. She was tall and strong; a perfect tribute. She, perhaps, would have been the one to create District Two's reputation as ruthless killers.

Athena remembered standing in the town square, surrounded by family and friends. People with relatives in the Games were treated like royalty. The Argos' were given delicious meals and beautiful clothing. Athena had been gifted a gorgeous red silk dress that became her favorite at the time. Nowadays the dress hung in the back of her closet, symbolizing the death of her sister, the blood that had spilled out of Artemis' throat.

District Eleven. Ugh. How Athena hated that horrible, lower District. If that good-for-nothing boy hadn't snuck into the fight at the feast and thrust that terrible knife into Artemis' throat, Athena would have still had a sister. She would have still had friends. And she would still have a normal, happy life, living in a lavish house in Victor's Village.

Overcome with a sudden surge of anger, Athena lunged forward and threw the knife in her hand as hard as she could towards the target. It struck dead center.

"Nice," said a curt voice behind her. Athena whirled around, her curly red hair whipping behind her. Jupiter Argos stood not five yards away, a cold, familiar smirk on his otherwise expressionless face.

"Though that," he gestured to the knife still stuck in the wall, "could afford some improvement."

Athena blushed, looking down at her feet. "I got...distracted."

"That's not an excuse," her father told her, walking over to the blade and pulling it out by the handle. "You must stay focused. What happens if you get distracted in the Games? You'll end up with a dagger in your throat, just like Artemis."

She flinched visibly when Jupiter mentioned her dead sister. "Don't say that." She muttered, still looking at the ground. "She's your daughter, and she's d-d-dead."

He sighed and walked over to her, putting a hand on her shoulder. Athena could tell it was meant to be a comforting gesture, but it gave her no warmth whatsoever.

"I'm sorry." He said, though his harsh tone was not apologetic. "I just want to protect you. I can't afford to lose another daughter to the Games."

Athena moved away from her father so that his hand dropped. "I need to practice my bow and arrows," she said flatly, jogging to the other side of the center so that Jupiter couldn't try to call her back.

There was a collection of bows hung on a rack near the axe station. Next to the rack lay a bunch of quivers, each holding a dozen arrows. She picked up the quiver closest to her and selected a hand-crafted wooden bow. It was a beautiful thing, made out of strong yet appealing wood. It was the same bow Athena had used ever since she had been old enough to not shoot herself in the eye. She remembered getting in a fight with a boy who had wanted to use the same bow. She had given the boy a black eye and a broken finger, but she herself had sprained her wrist, so her training had been put back a month or so. The boy had ended up switching to a different center, and although he claimed it was because of the lack of "quality equipment", Athena knew that he didn't want to be around her anymore. The thought made her smile. He made the right decision. No one messes with me.

Although at first Athena had found the bow slightly too stiff for her tastes, she had soon grown accustomed to it, and now she used no other. Now the bow fit comfortably into her hands, as though it had molded to fit her fingers.

She fit the arrow onto the string; almost subconsciously. She had done the same so many times before it wasn't as though she really had to think about it. She lifted the bow and released the string. It flew, almost as though in slow motion, and embedded itself just shy of the bull's eye. Swearing softly under her breath, Athena set the second arrow. This time, the tip hit directly in the center of the target. She smiled her usual smirk and got ready to shoot the last ten arrows.

Three of her last arrows hit the bull's eye, the other seven just barely missing. Athena sighed. She wasn't doing her best today. She pulled the arrows out of the target and stuffed them unceremoniously back in the quiver. For a moment, she debated whether or not to continue training or to start getting ready for the Reaping. No, she decided, it's not worth it. Besides, I have to look perfect if I'm going to volunteer today. No use making the stylists feel like they have a lot of work to do.

Athena threw the quiver on top of the others and carefully placed the bow on the rack. In order to avoid her father, she'd have to take extra precautions, precautions that she at the moment did not want to take. She was tired, sweaty, and hungry. With a sigh, Athena set off in the direction of door, wishing that Artemis had never died, so that she would never had had to go through what she had.

She moved like a cat, lithely making her way through all the stations. The training center was relatively new, only being built six years ago. Before then all the Districts had been helpless, all the tributes had the same chances. One out of twenty four, that was it. Nothing more, nothing less. Now, with Districts One, Two, and Four starting training, the rest of the tributes' chances were reduced even more. It was a surprise none of the so-called Careers had won after the centers being built. The only Career that had been crowned victor in the past seventeen years was Mags, from District Four, who had won the 12th Hunger Games when she was seventeen.

Athena smirked. If that fool could win when she was seventeen, she could definitely win if she was eighteen. She had gone through the Training, when "Mags" had not. Plus, she was stronger and better than the District Four victor. She was born to win these Games. While it was rumored for Mags' health to be slowly dwindling, Athena would enjoy her victory. She was going to spend the rest of her days in her beautiful and lovely house in the Victor's Village, wear only the best clothes, eat only the most delicious meals. Yes, Athena thought, my life will be perfect. I will be admired and envied. I will avenge my sister's death by killing the tributes of the wretched District Eleven, then return to the life I could have only dreamed of.

Yes, winning the Games would be a piece of cake. Her life afterward would be even easier. Athena sighed happily. She had it all in her mind. She had it all planned out.

Two stubbed toes and four close calls later, Athena found herself in her room. It was extremely large, though in District Two it was found to be quite average-sized. She prided herself on knowing that one of her closets was probably the size of a District Eleven citizen's kitchen, living room, and bathroom combined. It was a lavishly decorated room. The bed sheets were all silk; the half a dozen pillows all cashmere. The walls, however, were still painted a horrifying shade of bubblegum pink. The job had been done when Athena was just eleven; before her sister had died. She frequently wished to have it repainted, but for some reason it had never been attended to. Though the room was often cleaned and dusted by the family's pair of Avoxes, the walls remained as pink as ever; a fact that Athena hated.

She took of her shoes and resisted the urge to throw them against that terrible wall. Instead, she kicked them to the middle of the floor. One of their Avoxes was sure to pick them up later anyway. The plush carpet was soft and comfortable under Athena's sweaty and admittedly smelly feet. She sighed with relief. Although her shoes were custom-made by the District's best designers, they still weren't too comfortable. Soon the carpet was replaced with cool, smooth stone. Athena had reached her bathroom. While smaller than one of her closets, it certainly was very large and appealing. Smooth, onyx counters, white marble floors. She very much liked this room. Also, the walls were not colored a hideous pink.

Quickly undressing, Athena tossed her clothes to one corner and stepped lightly into the shower. With a quick turn of the knob, she was doused with hot water. She liked the steady stream hot enough that the large room soon filled up with steam. The water slightly scalded her skin, but Athena liked it that way. Somehow, it felt good. She sighed, pouring shampoo and then conditioner on her hair. Her fingers worked fluidly and soon her previously tangled hair was soft and silky.

Once convinced that all of the hair products had been washed out, she stepped out, wrapping a towel around her body. With some help from a blow dryer, her hair soon returned to its natural curl. Still wearing the towel, Athena stepped out of the bathroom and back into her bedroom.

Athena had two closets, though the second one wasn't anywhere near full. Compared to most District One girls, Athena didn't have a lot of clothes. She had never been too obsessed with things like that. Well, no, that was a lie. There was a time, when Artemis was still alive, that Athena had loved clothes and makeup and spent all her money at the local mall. Now that her sister was dead, it seemed foolish to spend so much time worrying over such simple, useless things. Of course, clothes are useful, but Athena would be just as happy in a t-shirt and sweats as she would in a sleeveless silk dress. Perhaps even more so. Consequently, most of Athena's gorgeous and expensive dresses had been placed in the back of the closet, where they hung there, lonely and too small.

She walked into her first closet; the smallest of the two. She needed something that wouldn't be too casual, but she wanted to be herself in it. If she wore something frilly and pink, she'd give off the impression that she was girlish and sweet, which she was most definitely not. An impression like that would only be influenced by her small build and her annoyingly high-pitched voice. Ugh. Why must she be cursed with such a thing? It was horrible. It made her sound like a little girl.

With a sigh, Athena began to browse through the various clothing racks nearest her. She seemed to be sighing a lot today. Well, after all, the Reaping was to take place in just over one hour. It was sure to trigger lots of sigh-worthy memories.

A hour later and Athena found herself in the town square, standing on her tiptoes, trying to see over the heads of the other eighteen-year-olds who were, admittedly, much taller than her. She was wearing a short, dark violet dress, with lighter ribbons for straps. Athena quite liked this dress, it wasn't too girly but it was, after all, a dress. It made her look edgy and dangerous; especially with the fishnet leggings Athena had added, just for good measure.

She began to tap her foot impatiently as the mayor slowly neared the stage. He was a stooped man who moved by shuffling his feet. By the time he finally reached the microphone, Athena's attention was elsewhere. It was something that happened often when she became impatient.

It took forever for the escort to be introduced. Finally, a dark-skinned woman with vibrant purple hair and slanted, heavily-lidded amber eyes skipped on stage. Though she did look slightly freakish, she seemed pleased to have a Career District for once. For a moment, Athena wondered what had happened to last year's escort, a man with tattoos all up and down his body. However, her thoughts were interrupted by the woman's surprisingly deep voice saying, "Ladies first!"

Before Athena could act, the Capitol escort's long fingers plunged into the bowl and pulled out a name. Her lips formed the word, but before she could say anything, Athena shouted "I volunteer!"

As she ran towards the stage, she saw a girl from her section giving a death glare, her hand dropping to her side. Sucker, Athena thought, smirking to herself. Too late for you, now, isn't it?

As Athena took her place on stage, she saw her father smiling softly and her mother's eyes beginning to fill with tears. She sighed. Her mother didn't understand. She was going to win, and that was that. She wasn't going to let her guard down, like Artemis had done.

Before the escort even had time to pick the male tribute, a strong, cold voice rang out.

"I volunteer!"

As whoever had spoken moved towards the stage, Athena caught a glimpse of a mop of dark brown hair. Then, as the boy emerged from the crowd, her heart caught in her throat. A vision of a dark-haired boy, snapping her wrist back, flashed across her mind's eye.

It was him.


A/N: So, how'd you like it? It's really long, almost 5,000 words. Yeesh. I promise you that in the future, chapters won't be this long. Unless you like them this long. Even though it's a Reaping, I rather like this chapter. I love all these characters! At first, I wasn't really feeling Athena, but I really began to like her towards the end of her section.

Oh, and I changed the title, because I just didn't like it. It didn't flow. Hope you like the new one :).

Now, I better explain what I'm up to here. Y'see, at first I was only going to do one character per one introductory chapter. For instance, one character has their Reaping written. Another has their time in the Justice Building written. Still another has their train ride written. But then I decided the characters needed a bit more explaining than that, so I decided that two characters get their Reaping written, two characters get their goodbyes written, and so on. Expect to see your character sooner. Or later. But every character will get at least two half-chapters written about them before the Games. Got it? Also, each character will get their time to shine in the Games before they are killed off. I will try my best to not focus on one person/alliance too much. I know it can get annoying when your character isn't getting as much screen time as you would like.

Obviously, this fic will be written in third person. I hope you like it that way, because if you don't, I'm not doing anything about it. Third person is easier for me to write.

Also, I'm not doing sponsoring. I'm not that organized. However, it's no excuse for you not to review. Because if you don't, there's a good chance your character will die faster.

Let me explain. So we all have some time in our lives where something is going on or we're too busy and we just can't review. Me, being the little lovely angel I am, have given you some slack. Depending on how great your reviews are (e.g. something at least a few sentences that includes some praise and constructive criticism) I will give you a little leeway. The better the reviews, the more non-reviewed chapters I won't count.

For instance. Reviewer (A) leaves sentence-long reviews that usually tell me that the chapter was great and to update soon. However, one day (A) is feeling lazy and decides not to review. This continues for three chapters. (A)'s character's name will go into the that four times. Once because it's necessary, and three times because (A) didn't review three chapters and (A)'s reviews were pretty crappy. Now, reviewer (B)'s reviews are satisfactory. They're more than five sentences long and always include some sort of praise and criticism. Then, one day (B) is off on vacation and misses a chapter. The next time a new chapter comes out (B)'s having computer problems and doesn't review that chapter. The third time (B)'s just having a bad day and reads but doesn't review. (B)'s character's name will only go in once or twice more, if even that. Get it? Now, if you don't review at all, your character's name will go into the hat eleven times. Why? Because there's ten characters, and therefore ten chapters before the Games. This is number one. If you don't review at all, there's an enormous chance that your character will be the first to die.

If your character dies, I will remove all their names from the hat. If your character doesn't die during that particular chapter, and you don't review that chapter, there's a heightened chance that he/she will die next chapter.

Get it? Got it? Good. Phew, that was a long author's note. I hope you get it. Review, please! Also tell me if you like the chapters this long, or if you would like them shorter.

~Autumn

Edit: I am so clever. I found a button that says "insert horizontal ruler". I clicked it, and what appeared? A LINE! Muahahaha. Now, carry on with your daily lives. Don't mind me.