Thanks to all who have reviewed so far, and the people who have submitted tributes, I am overwhelmed by how creative and dedicated some of you have been! This chapter should provide some insight into the events of the rebellion as they happen in this story, and I hope you enjoy! There are still a couple of tribute spaces left, and I will be posting the list so far at the bottom. Thanks again!
"Hurry up kid."
Josiah looks to the older boy walking ahead of him, and after wiping the sweat from his brow, he clumsily stumbles after him, too big boots clumping along the broken cobbles. His hand at his side is covered in dirt- he can't remember the last time he cleaned, the last time he changed his tattered clothes. Picking his way cautiously across the rubble, he glances about what looks like the shell of a town square. He'd seen pictures of them before- all the Districts had them, even District 12, before the Rebellion. The Justice Building lay crumbled, once solid stone, it now bore the marks of war. Great cleaves of rock had been blasted out of the structure, leaving gaping holes, windows shattered like hollow eyes. They stare at him, mournful, full of grief and suffering. Shivering, Josiah continues along the grey landscape, the town which is scattered into a thousand pieces.
The boy in front of him stops, having reached a pinnacle of wreckage- the ruins of a now forgotten structure. His black leather longcoat flaps in the wind as he turns, looking down to the 8 year old trailing behind. Squinting in the bright sunlight, he shields his eyes from the sun with a hand to his brow.
"Cmon, it's just over this hill!" He shouts down to Josiah, his voice straining through the relentless and scorching squall. A storm was brewing, they had to be quick.
In some ways, Josiah didn't really miss District 13. Before the Rebellion, he was holed up in the ground, listening to fairy tales and legends of the "Outside World"- how people lived above the surface, how they had wooden houses and bathed in rivers and streams. It was all a big dream, an afterthought as he wiled away the days making bread in the caverns with his mother and sisters, secretly longing for some connection to the wider world- a way out of his earthen confines.
Then the rebels had arrived- people with sunburnt faces, people with scars and tattoos, people who he had only heard about in stories. They had walked straight out of his wildest dreams, and changed everything. They had seemed immortal to him, indestructible, until the day of the raid. Rebels and District 13 citizens alike had cowered in the bunkers. They had both wept with fear, as the bombs shattered overhead. Josiah shudders, the memories grating against his mind. After that, had come the liberation. The long pilgrimage to District 12. And here he was, his family clustered in a dusty tent where the Seam used to be. He was a refugee of war, and refugees had to do anything to survive.
He reaches the top of the "hill", his breath short and feet aching with sores and heat. It is a familiar pain by now. He looks upwards to the tall boy waiting for him, tanned and lean, freckled by years of sunlight on his face, dark curly hair nesting over his firm grey eyes. He was everything Josiah wanted to be- a remnant of Panem, marked by the weather and hardship. Tough.
"You alright there kid?" the boy chuckles, raising an eyebrow. Josiah feels somewhat embarrassed by his breathlessness, his cheeks flushing pink.
"I'm fine, Scree." His brow knits with annoyance.
"I knew you would be. You're good like that kid, that's why I picked you." Scree smiles knowingly, an air of wisdom beyond his years etched in his face. Slapping Josiah hard on the back, he turns, facing forward again. Out of his sight, the younger boy rubs his back silently, grimacing from the pain.
"Look, you see it?" He raises a leather clad arm, pointing into the distance.
"I…I.." Narrowing his eyes, Josiah peers into the distance, the heat hazing the air in front of them. He makes out a ring of what look like large houses, boards over the windows. Gasping with surprise, he looks back to Scree with shock.
"That's it?! The Victors Village?"
"Yep." Scree nods, smirking slightly at the kid's naivety. "The one and only."
Josiah stands there wide eyed, mouth agape in awe. He had heard so many tales about the people who lived there, the rebels he had caught mere glimpses of back in District 13.
"Are you coming or what kid?" Josiah scurries to catch up with Scree, already halfway down the hill of stone and metal.
By the time they reach the rusted iron gates to the compound, Josiah has lost his breath again. The sun shivers, a low orange blob sliding down a bloody sky. Scree comes a halt, and pushes a hand against the metal bars. They give with a slow and reluctant shriek, the piercing sound cutting through the thick and cloistering air the two boys breathe.
"Well… what are you waiting for?" Scree looks down and steps over the threshold, but not before Josiah notices the wavering look in his eyes. Gulping down his fears, the child follows suit, slipping between the crooked irons. The air is unnaturally still, and their footsteps echo in the heavy silence. They walk across the compound without exchanging a word, both heads fighting the dark thoughts that creep up on them and extend their vile hands in company. Monsters under the bed lurk in their minds as they come to a stop before the first house.
"Well, this is it then." Scree's voice is low and sombre, and Josiah is scared. He notices graffiti on the finely bricked walls, images and words that mean nothing to him.
"What… What do they mean?" He asks in hesitation, his voice quavering as he points towards the scrawls and pictures ahead.
"The Odds Are Never in Our Favour… its Games stuff, from before the war. The Peacekeepers are probably gonna raze this place to the ground soon, that's why we have to salvage as much as we can, before it's all gone."
Josiah had heard a lot about the games. Scree moves towards the boards over the grand entrance to the house, swinging the hammer he keeps at his belt. Not wanting to be left behind, the younger boy hurries to keep up as he imagines shadows snapping at his heels.
Once inside, Josiah is less afraid and more curious, as he walks around the dusty yet once luxurious interior. He has never seen such rich furnishings, and he supposes that someone very wealthy had once lived here. As they walk through the kitchen, he notices bottles and jars on the shelves, dishes in the sink left unwashed. Somebody left here in a hurry.
"Leave the glass containers, it's mostly leaves and stuff. The pans and crockery should fetch a pretty price though." Scree walks slowly, his face flickering around the room. His eyes glitter dimly at the bounty they have just found, and he can't believe so much is still here. They would eat well tonight.
Josiah nods absently, as he moves into the living room. Plush sofas weep stuffing, mirrors cracked and blackened with mould. He brushes dead leaves off a cabinet, looking in puzzlement to a white silk rose resting in a grave of dust. Who had the money to spare on fake flowers? Heshakes his head in bemusement, as he progresses through the once grand room. His boot crunches on something hard, and he stoops curiously, reaching beneath his sole.
Scree walks up behind him.
"What you got there kid?" he moves in front of Josiah, and tilts his head in question.
Josiah opens his palm, and looks to the object in confusion.
"It's like a pin… a bird thing-"
He barely has time to answer before it is smacked out of his hand by the older boy. Scree turns to him, eyes wild with anger and shock.
"What on earth do you think you're doing with something like that!? Are you insane?" His voice is strained and Josiah catches a hint of almost fear.
"I… I…" the young boy is scared, and embarrassed, not understanding his mistake.
Scree's face hardens, and his expression turns serious and guarded.
"Grab as much as you can. We need to leave."
"But we haven't even checked the other houses yet!"
The tall boy grabs the much smaller one by his shoulders, looking intimidatingly into his eyes. He speaks through his teeth and blazes with anger.
"I said we are leaving. Now."
As they lug their findings back to the camp in silence, Josiah can't help the questions that swim in his head, which itch at his thoughts. Nevertheless, he keeps his mouth closed. Memories flash; when the Capitol conquered District 13, when the Rebels were lead outside with their hands tied. He remembers the sound of shots being fired.
He knows what happens to those that speak their mind.
There we go! If you enjoyed this chapter (or if not) please leave a review, they are really appreciated, and help me figure out what you guys like/don't like. Don't forget to follow this story for updates on new chapters! I will start writing the Reapings as soon as the list is complete. Just to clarify, yes there are District 13 citizens living in District 12, but the majority of the population are survivors from the bombs, people who are native to District 12. This means 12 is still competing in the Games, but they are suffering from more hardship than ever before.
The Tribute List:
D1 Male: Reserved for Infamouskal420
D1 Female: Lexa Emmeline Merkell (18) Submitted by GlimmerIcewood
D2 Male: Aiden Faust (18) Submitted by grab. .
D2 Female: Jade Rainer (17) Submitted by ashleyashley
D3 Male: Dutch Morgan (13) Submitted by Heslen
D3 Female: Alice Day (13) Submitted by Rayofsunshine14
D4 Male:
D4 Female: Amoret Rossdale (17) Submitted by carriedaway88
D5 Male: Lucas Holmes (12) Submitted by grab. .
D5 Female:
D6 Male:
D6 Female: Merinda Lux (17) Submitted by Heslen
D7 Male: Reserved for Infamouskal420
D7 Female: Katy Jo Cheming (17) Submitted by Nona
D8 Male:
D8 Female: Payton Wells (12) Submitted by 17headlines
D9 Male: Maximus "Max" Wood (18) Submitted by ZTEBladeCM11
D9 Female: Isla Waral (15) Submitted by 17headlines
D10 Male: Kyle Horne (16) Submitted by Wandering Princess
D10 Female: Clarissa Brown (17) Submitted by Wandering princess
D11 Male:
D11 Female: Adria Braud (15) Submitted by TheDancerSG
D12 Male:
D12 Female: Winze Barcroft (16) Submitted by GlimmerIceWood
So just a few requests to round it off;
If you have reserved a tribute, please send me the filled out forms in the next few days or I will have to open the places to someone else. This is to ensure that I can get on with the Reapings ASAP, and it's only fair on other people who have already submitted! Thanks.
I have a lot of Male openings left, so if you haven't already submitted two tributes, see if you've got any ideas for another one!
Remember to mix up your tributes a little, the more unique your tribute is the more likely it is I will use them to their full potential! Think crazy, weird, bloodthirsty, melancholy, bubbly, idiotic, smart.
As always, thanks for your support!
