Sparks flew.
Literally.
Her capacitor was too small to store the charge she needed. Well, not literally. Size had never been indicative of charge. Nonetheless, to say it was infuriating was a gross understatement. She had been working on this model car for months. It should've been easy. All she wanted, at least at this current stage of prototyping, was for it to move via remote control wherever she pleased. She had a fully functioning model car, completely remote controlled up to 100 meters away. Now all she needed was the extra capacitor to hold a charge when the battery ran out so she could drive the car back into its charging station when it's battery ran out. Like her father said, it never hurts to be prepared.
Except it wasn't working.
Vista sighed and ran her fingers through her black hair. There was no way it couldn't have worked. Her calculations were impeccable. They always had been. So then why would the car run for two minutes then stop dead in its tracks? She picked up the model, turning it, scrutinizing its every crevice and crack. Her usually dull brown eyes sparkled as she thought. The battery had the right voltage. She mentally added up the total value of her resistors to make sure they allowed for ample current. Her system was wired in series-
Vista stopped dead in her tracks.
Her system was wired in series.
All the electricity charge just passed straight through the system in one foul swoop. No wonder the car was so fast, all the energy just passed straight through it! Pulling out some pliers, Vista cut some wires and gently rearranged them to test her theory. She set the car down, and picked up the remote control. She hit go, and the car started to move exactly the way she envisioned it. She smirked.
Critical thinking to save the day, as per usual.
"Vista! Don't forget, we need to be at the reaping in an hour. Please remember to look nice," she heard her mother call from upstairs.
"Yes mother!" she called back. She didn't have it in her to sass her mother at the moment. It was just a miracle that one of her parents was around at all. She hit stop, and put the remote down, shaking her head. Maybe if she was lucky, the new head gamemaker would have some new technology to spice up the games. She already knew the past arena's like the back of her hand, even that sentient supermarket from a few years back. The tributes were always so careless, it wasn't even plausible to analyze their actions. Some of them were far too emotional for her taste, especially for being in such a high stakes game. Looking around her clutter pseudo-lab area, complete with random chemicals in test tubes, for the aesthetic but she'd never admit it. Vista grumbled softly. Having to leave her happy place and face the vicious words of her classmates was never fun. They just didn't understand. Logic was almost always the best tool to use, and some of them seemed to have none at all. It was infuriating. However, the least fun things often ended up being necessary. She put her remote in her desk drawer. She could come back to it after the reaping.
"How did Clint Maceon win the 22nd Hunger Games?"
Aristotle rolled his eyes as he sloshed around his oatmeal with his spoon.
"Brute strength with careful end game strategy. He mostly manipulated tributes into paranoia and then near the end forced their hand by taking supplies and slaughtering-"
"No no no! That was Alexandria Sung of the 21st Hunger Games. Maceon tortured those he found with personalized weaknesses and fears-"
"Which was incredible because no victor before him had ever paid so much attention to their opponents and it was that knowledge that allowed him to win," Aristotle recited from memory. It was one of many he had heard over the years. His father sighed,
" You know that you need to know this. You are going to volunteer one day," Aristotle cringed. He looked down, taking sudden interest in the way his oatmeal was clumping up and how condensation formed on his cup of juice.
"Leo, that isn't this year," he heard his mother say to his father. "He's only 14, he has four years left," He heard his father start to grumble
"Fine. Son." Aristotle glance back up at his parents. His mother, brown eyes glowing, smiled lightly. His father frowned slightly,
"Yes father, I'll go do some target practice at the community center before the reaping," Leonardo grinned at his son,
"Good, your mother and I will go wake up Apollo and Venus, pick up the table before you leave. Oh, and if Wolfgang is there make sure he actually trains with you instead of being a distraction" With that, the hulking man rose and strode out the room. Aristotle stood up as well, only to notice his mother still there. She approached him,
"You're a smart young man. We only want what's best for you. After the reaping, help us gather some supplies for the party tonight. Some colleagues will be over to discuss tribute statistics and make initial predictions," she announced. The boy could only give a tight lipped smile. As she walked out, he shook his head. Throwing the dishes haphazardly in the dishwasher, he walked out onto the grimy city streets. His white marble house glistened in the early morning light. It was so odd among the deteriorating apartment buildings. The contrast made him uncomfortable. It was good to have wealthy parents in District 3, his father being the inventor of the capitol defense system and his mother being the head designer and inventor of Panem's train system, but when he saw the hollowed out cheeks of the street kids he couldn't help but feel guilty. District 3 had amazing technology, but still couldn't feed its citizens. Before he knew it, dirt and grime transformed into steel and gray concrete as he approached the training center.
Despite being for "the general wellness and health of the citizens", Aristotle had always thought the capitol wished District 3 was a career district. Why else would they allow funds for a "exercise center" fit with weapons and a fully immersive Hunger Games simulator? They gave them all this technology, but not dummies. His parents, being the fanatics they were, just made some out of sacks of hack. Instead of training, he would've much rather taken a look into the coding of the systems, but his parents would never allow that. At least, not while he was of reaping age.
"Did your parents go on about you volunteering again?" Aristotle was jolted out of his thoughts by an all too familiar voice.
"Do they ever do anything else?" Aristotle rolled his eyes and turned around to see the shaggy, dark brown hair of his best friend. "Come on Wolf, they've been like this forever,"
"You know, if I accidentally run an electric current through the punch bowl-"
"You can't do that, sugar doesn't conduct electricity. You'd have to add salt and everyone would notice and that's not to mention HOW you get a current through the bowl without wires connecting it to some sort of energy source and-"
"Your dad would murder me for ruining his year Hunger Games party," Wolf grinned. Aristotle perked up, and smirked,
"It's all fun and games until you die and I'm the only one at your funeral-" he laughed.
"Hey! People like me too you know! You're not the charm of this duo," Wolf pouted. Aristotle couldn't help but chuckle.
"Course not, we're icons," Aristotle quipped back at him. He thought for a moment,
"You know, father did say that if you were here to make sure you actually trained instead of being a distraction," Wolf gasped, eyes bulging out of his head,
"ME? I would NEVER be a DISTRACTION to your valuable Hunger Games training!" Wolf grinned as he slapped a hand over his heart in feigned shock. Aristotle shook his head, walking over to the rack of knives.
"If you put half as much thought into math and science as you did pranks you could be unstoppable," Wolf walked over to the rack, scoffing
"That's what all you genius kids say. I'm happy where I am," he put his hand on Aristotle's shoulder,
"I should actually do some training before my parents find out," Aristotle picked up the knife and flung it at the dummy. It missed. Wolf's cocky demeanor melted away. Worry clouded his eyes
"They do know that kids like you and me will never be those careers? They're huge, we're just not," Aristotle just shrugged.
"It won't stop them from trying. Maybe I can talk them out of it before I turn 18. Besides, if I go into the arena at least I'll have my knowledge to help me. Who else memorizes critical plays of the games?" Wolf strained a smile at his best friend.
"Let's not talk about that," Aristotle held out a knife. Wolf looked at him, confused. Aristotle grinned.
"First one to land a hit buys the other ice cream," a sparkle appeared in Wolf's eye.
"Oh, it's on,"
The sun glistened on the oceans waves. The gentle sea breeze floated through her bright red hair, tickling her skin. Adrianne sat on the coastline, closed her eyes, and breathed in the salty sea air. Despite having lived there her whole life, District 4 was still breath taking to her. The hidden pockets of untouched beach glowed every morning. The bustling cities were lively without being crowded, or polluted. The people were happy. It was beautiful.
.
.
.
.
"So, do you like jazz?"
Aaaaaaaand the moment was gone.
One of her eyes popped open. From a few feet away, she could see her 3 best friends walking across the coast, approaching her. The girl with blonde hair had her arms behind her head, trying to look as casual as possible as her question cut through the air. The other girl, a burly brunette, looked at her confused, while the third, a blonde boy, shook his head.
"Alyson, you've known me for ages, you know what type of music I like," the brunette reiterated. Adrianne could see the blonde girl's cheek turn bright red.
"Well yeah, but I was just-"
"Hey guys I see Addy over there, I'm gonna go say hi," the blonde boy interrupted. The two girls nodded, but remained fixed to their spot as he ran away. Adrianne smiled,
"Hey Jeremy, are they still going at it?" she asked sarcastically. Jeremy rolled his eyes,
"If by 'going at it' you mean Aly is hitting on Kat and Kat has no idea what's going on, then yes. They're definitely still going at it. My sister is relentless" Adrianne couldn't help but laugh.
"They should just be together at get it over with. Can you imagine how much easier it would be without them being dumb? 'Hey Katherine, you look different. Did you do something new today?' 'Well, I'm not wearing make-up, does it look bad?' 'NO!'" Jeremy laughed as Adrianne made fun of their friends. Adrianne smirked.
"Seriously though, they'd be perfect together. They balance each other out," Adrianne mused, a small frown spreading across her face. It didn't evade Jeremy, who put his arm around her shoulder,
"Don't worry, you'll find your perfect match sooner or later. It might end up being a lot later, but they'll appear," Adrianne rest her head on his shoulder and sighed.
"Thanks, maybe once I've aged out of the reaping and we can all stop living in constant fear, then I can find someone," she murmured, more to herself than Jeremy. Gently, she pulled his arm off of her and stood up. "'I'm gonna go home and see my parents before the reaping, find me in line?" she asked. Jeremy nodded,
"See you later!" Adrianne turned around and ran off. She felt the warm sand fade away as asphalt replaced it. The sound of seagulls was replaced by chatter and laughter. She frowned. The reaping was a day of celebration, and she couldn't stand it. Floating through the crowd of people that started to form, she arrived at a small house with a prominent oak door. Letting herself in, she peered around the living room,
"Mom? Dad? Are you still here?" she yelled.
"In the kitchen," a soft, feminine voice replied. Adrianne ran over and saw her mother standing over the sink, washing dishes. Her father was sitting at the table doing a crossword. She walked to her dad and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. Her turned to her and smiled,
"Addy, my dear darling daughter, I came up with a new joke," he beamed. Adrianne and her mother couldn't stop the groans from leaving their mouths,
"Dad-"
"Anderson, you-"
"Just you wait ladies! I think this is my best one yet," Adrianne rolled her eyes, but her smile didn't fade.
"Alright Dad, hit me," Anderson grinned and rolled his shoulders back.
"Alright, what day do fish hate?" Adrianne heard her mother sigh, bracing herself.
"What day, honey?" Anderson gave himself a little drumroll, pounding his hands on the table.
"Fry-day!" Adrianne laughed lightly, while her mother only rolled her eyes. Anderson gave his wife an expectant look,
"River, doll, don't leave me hanging," the woman in question cringed.
"It was… great, honey. The best one so far," she lied. Anderson jumped out of his chair and ran to his wife, wrapping his arms around her.
"Doll, I know you're lying to me, but I'll still take it," he murmured, kissing her on the cheek. River instantly smiled and went back to washing the dishes. Adrianne couldn't help but stare and smile sadly. Maybe one day, if she was lucky, she'd get to find the one person who loved her the way her parents loved each other. Maybe she'd find someone to hold at night, and to walk with on the beach, and to be happy with.
"Adrianne, honey, what's wrong?" she snapped back into reality as her mother gazed down at her, concerned. Adrianne shook her head,
"Nothing mom, it's just reaping day," she lied. She tensed, realizing she had just made a terrible mistake. River's usually cheery expression grew solemn. Anderson held his wife a little tighter than usual, he let his chin rest on her head as he grew pensive.
"Mom, Dad, I'm sorry-"
"It's not your fault honey," River reassured her daughter. Adrianne bowed her head,
"I just hope one day that the games end," Adrianne whimpered, suddenly feeling vulnerable. Chair squeaked beside her as the parents sat down.
"One day hell will rain down on the Capitol, you just have to be patient. It might not be now, it might be a long way in the future, but it will happen. They have to pay for what's been taken," Adrianne looked up at her dad as he spoke. His eyes glazed over, as he was suddenly gone in time. Adrianne stood up,
"Honey, go get ready to head into town square. Meet back down here in a little bit," Adrianne nodded at her mother's words and left the kitchen. One day the games would end and everyone would be safe again, just like one day she'd meet someone and fall in love. Hopefully, both those days would come soon.
Adrianne smiled sadly to herself.
Everything will be alright. Sooner or later.
Deck perused the market stalls.
Seafood, seafood, seafood.
It seemed like there was nothing on sale that day but seafood.
Deck felt his shoulders tense. He had started to develop a slight distaste for the fishy stuff. It was tough though, being in District 4 and not liking seafood seemed almost impossible. Yet, there he was, perusing stall after stall of cod, salmon, and lobster, and trying not to vomit. Finally, he settled on some nice fried shrimp, after admitting defeat. Shrimp took on whatever flavor you cooked it with, so he was hoping the stuff he bought wasn't fishy.
"Hi Bathyal!" Deck whipped around, scanning the crowd for the voice who called out his full name. He relaxed as he sat it was only Furi, who was bouncing her way over to him.
"Hi Furi! How are you?" he asked, smiling. Furi shrugged,
"I'm alright, I just ran into Brine though," Deck cringed. Furi was, different from Brine, to say the least.
"What did she do?" Furi shook her head and sighed.
"She was screaming. She didn't get the volunteer spot," Deck's jaw fell to the floor.
"There's no way-"
"She missed it by a quarter of a point," His eyes felt like they would pop out of their sockets at any point. That was crazy. He'd never heard of the judges going smaller than half points before.
"She's livid, isn't she?" he asked. Furi laughed,
"Well, when isn't she?" Deck couldn't help but laugh at that one. Brine was the textbook definition of intense when it came to training. Furi sighed and shrugged,
"How are you feeling? You're not… too sad? Are you?" the pair started to walk away from the market stalls and onto the long strip of white beach. Deck shrugged,
"Kind of? It's always a hard day," he decided out loud. Furi pat his shoulder gently,
"Hoist was a nice guy-"
"I remember that, you remember that, but all anyone else remembers is a boy who begged for mercy and didn't kill anyone," the sea tickled his feet. He jumped back at the sensation, lost in his own mind. He hadn't noticed that they had stopped walking.
"Hey, it's alright, he's still in our hearts," Furi smiled up at him reassuringly. Deck looked out at the clear blue sea, pensive again.
"Furi, someday's I'm not because he's gone, I'm sad because everyone refuses to remember him. They haven't said his name since he died last year, and that's not fair. He worked hard, they all always work hard," He thought out loud. His whole body started to tense, his usually happy demeanor disappearing.
"Deck, come back," Furi's voiced floated in the back of his mind. He looked back at her, hair flowing in the wind. She had both hands on his shoulders, shaking him gently. He shook his head,
"Sorry, I had a moment there," Furi just smiled.
"It's fine, I just wanted to make sure you didn't get too wrapped up in your thoughts before your big day," Furi reassured him. Deck looked at her quizzically
"Furi, I thought you hated the games?" he asked quietly. Talking badly about the games in public was a dangerous bargain to make. Furi simply shrugged,
"I'm not a fan of violence. I understand the importance, I just feel the execution is not well done," she explained. "Besides, what kind of friend would I be if I didn't support you?" Dack grinned down at her.
"Thank you, it means a lot to me," he replied, giving her a hug. Furi, despite not being the most popular among his other friends, was great. Furi laughed,
"Of course! Now let's go, it's almost time to be in town square," she pulled away from and bounced off. Deck chased after her. It was almost his time to shine after all.
Hello folks!
I loved writing these snippets, but I'm always nervous to see how people respond to my characters. Since these characters weren't of my own creation, I'm always worried I'm not fleshing them out enough or giving them enough time in the sun. That's the main goal of these chapters, to explore characters and gauge their reception from both me and you guys. Oh well, we'll see!
I have to say, I forgot how much I loved every single tribute I got. I don't know how I'm gonna pick who to kill when. This is gonna hurt me.
On that note! Please leave a review on what you think! I'm always happy to hear constructive criticism and your likes and dislikes. I'm getting back into the game, but I can't help but feel a little rusty in some departments. Let me know.
Much Love,
Dia
