NOTICE !

I do not own Johanna Mason, the Hunger Games, Catching Fire or Mockingjay! Let alone the world of Panem, all 13 Districts and the concept/idea of the Hunger Games.

The Hunger Games trilogy and characters is property of Suzanne Collins!

Captain, Masque, and other names mentioned[ Such as the Twenty-Two other Tributes, Mayor Orbenkleine Tair, Osceroe, Jordy, Arik & Mallisomn, ], with the exception of Johanna Mason, are copyright to me, Writing Assassin!

[ C h a p t e r 2 ]

Masque Styner.

She was the daughter of the District 7 victor from before Captain's time. He had heard about her, here and there. She was thought highly of, everyone's money and trade was set on her for the Games. They wanted her to come back. Although there were no gasps, fellow District 7 individuals had widened their eyes, their jaws cracked slightly. We might actually have a chance this year... Masque was confident as she was escorted to the stone platform by some of the Capitol officials. Two behind her, and two on either side of her, it was precautionary. To make sure any Reaped Tribute would not run off. Masque was shorter than Captain, surely, and she appeared to be about his age, as well. But her arms were fairly toned, she may actually stand a chance. If her father was a past victor, then she had some experience and probably trained here and there, when she had the chance. Her hair dangled passed her shoulder blades, straight, silky. At least as silky and smooth compared to anyone else here in the Lumber District. She had medium brown hair with natural onyx and blonde streaks. It really complimented her, it could almost be described as the fine grain in professionally polished wood.

Mayor Orbenkleine helped Masque up onto the stage, climbing those steps in her dark brown dress seemed almost impossible. She wore black flats and a face that looked little bothered. In fact, she did not seem to mind being up there! Her father was seated toward the back of the stage with Johanna, and his expression never changed. He was not in the least surprised.
Tair then crossed the stage, to the other bowl where all the boys names were placed. Reaching in again, he repeated the same process with Masque's name. Staring long and hard at the piece of paper he plucked, "Mortius Vandsmorf, is our boy Tribute." All eyes turned toward the boy, who had to be plucked from the crowd. He could not have been any older than thirteen, and was putting up a fuss, yelling, "Me? Me? No, no! I'll die out there! I'll die!" He began to wail and flail his arms. The Capitol officials were trying to restrain him when Captain pushed forward. Because he was older, he was not pushed far to the back, in fact, he was lined up in the second row, behind the eighteen year olds, when he stood out in the middle of the complex.

"I volunteer for Tribute!"

Captain stood fifteen feet ahead of the teenagers, and stared at Tair, whose deep brown hues found him. The officials paused in their tracks, and Mortius stopped his wailing, staring slack-jawed at Captain. Masque only stared down, her fingers fiddling with the faint frills on her dress. He could see her eyes now, and they were a beautful shade of bright, golden brown. The gold and black accents in her hair really made the eyes pop. The officials looked up at Tair for conformation and he nodded. They dropped Mortius and wandered toward Captain, "What's your name, boy?" Tair's voice boomed in Captain's general direction, but the boy had not flinched nor faltered away from the intimidating tone. Little was he frightened when the Capitol officials were standing mere feet from where he was, "Captain Tyson." The teenager spoke loudly enough, but the strength of his voice was none to compare to Tair's, "Our new District 7 boy Tribute is Captain Tyson." The escort spoke loud and clear again, as Captain made his way up onto the stage. The first thing he had done when he was settled beside Masque, was look down into the District 7 individuals and look for Shureshire. Her face pleaded, it was obvious she hadn't wanted Captain to go, but this had to be done. Jordy and Arik...They were not visible at all from the top of the stage. Too far back, "Is there anyone else who like to volunteer in the place of the already chosen Tributes...?" Tair asked, scanning the crowd with his dark eyes, Mortius is hiding his face in his shoulders, and to Captain, it looked as though he'd been crying.

After a short pause, Tair had given a careful nod, scanning the crowd nce more, "Then these are our District 7 Tributes. Masque Styner and Captain Tyson." Tair confirms, then begins to read a Treaty, a scripture which is mandatory to read at every Reaping. Every District must do this...
He could feel his stomach jump up into his throat now, and he felt like passing out. Tair motioned for the two District 7 Tributes to shake hands after reading the Treaty of Treason. Although Captain hesitated, the most he offered Masque was a tight sqeeze, barely a shake. More than likely because he was nervous, he was not fond of having to shake an opponents hand. I'll have to kill her off anyways, I mean, if I don't die within the first ten minutes of the Game anyways... The anthem for Panem began to play, the two Tributes standing quietly, orderly fashioned and balanced on stage. The cameras focused on them, and then the anthem faded.

Capitol officials began to lead Masque and Captain away, the crowd still dead silent. It was uncomfortable, the teenaged boy almost got the feeling that he would not be missed. After all, Masque was the victor's daughter, she had the upper hand, so it seemed. Easily, she could have out done Captain, only because the odds.

A large building had come into view, it was almost intimidating to Captain. Of course, he'd seen the Justice Building before, during other Games, but never has he seen it in the flesh. He'd never had to come down this way before, that, or he has never paid much mind to it. The structure was unlike anything Captain had witnessed first hand before, and this was where he would be staying until he and Masque were ready to head to the Capitol. The Tributes are lead inside, and Masque is escorted to one room, while Captain is taken to his own. The place did smell different, it felt different, and really did look different. Totally and completely not the surroundings Captain was use to being in. Fancy... The teenager thought to himself. It was dark, wooden flooring, with a rich, chocolatey carpet sprawled across the floor. Granted this was just a holding room, only temporary, so it was not that big. However, it did contain a single twin bed and a lounge chair with a small coffee table. The bed was draped with a nicely stitched comforter, and white as pearls bed sheets. Three pillows which were covered by red fabric. The lounge chair was a simple dak gray and silver embroidered fabric. Captain stands in the door way, which must be monitored on the other side, because he hadn't heard the familiar click of a door being locked. There was no doubt in Captain's mind that Tributes have tried to escape this place once or twice, and who could blame them?

Pushing himself away from the spot, Captain moved to make himself comfortable on the bed. He was feeling a bit off kilter, sick to his stomach. The pillows welcomed the boy's head with open arms, and he folded his hands across his abdomen. Staring up at the ceiling, which was decorated with a detailed mural. It was a lumber yard, trees climbed high above a mess hall, and off a ways was a creek. The painting was dark, but it was to show either sunrise, or sunset. Captain was too occupied mentally at the moment to depict which one. Let alone had he cared much. Silver eyes were then sheiled by exhausted lids, but deep inside, the teenager felt as though he could run for miles on end. The bed had such a comforting grasp that did not want to let him go, it seemed. He laid perfectly still, then the door opened almost silently. The only thing that told Captain he had a visitor was the light coming in from the hall and the footsteps. By the sound of it, it was either his mother, or Shurshire, "You're pretty ballsy, lumber boy." The door shut and the only thing illuminating the room was the sun shining through the cracks in the blinds, and the small table lamp set in a far off corner of the small room. He cracked open an eye to stare at her, before moving to sit on the edge of the bed, "For doin' what? Volunteering?" Captain spoke, offering a small chuckle as he extended both of his arms, intertwining his fingers and flexing them, causing them to crack and pop.

"Well, ya. I wouldn't have done that."

She approached the bed, but she was dressed in something quite different from what she was wearing this morning, when he was tending to Fresco. It was a black dress, with brown accents. it was beautful, and it clung to her body. It actually gave her a very femanine look, Captain liked it, even though he also found it a little awkward, "But that's you, Shire." The boy allowed his arms to dangle off his knees and he leaned forward, allowing onyx bangs; which were hardly at all long, to drape his forehead. Silver eyes followed the stitching in the deep brown rug. Shurshire leaned against the bed post and fiddled with the end of her dress, "I'd have just let Mortius go off, he deserved to be the boy Tribute, he got called. The kid's annoying anyways." She spoke honestly, her deep colored hues finding Captain as she rose a hand to twirl a curl that strayed from her head, "You're mean. I was going to volunteer for Tribute no matter who got their name pulled." Captain explained, averting a smile that melted soon after. The girl shrugged, and brought her focus to the room, "Ya, and I understand why, but this is a huge risk...I-I know I can't talk you out of it now, but...I just want you to do good, okay?" Shureshire was about to break into tears, but she was sucking them up, she was not about to cry. Captain also noticed this and moved to stand. he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into a comforting embrace. She returned the gesture by wrapping her arms around the base of his neck. They were about the same height, Captain being slightly taller than Shire, but there was no struggle, "I'm going to do my absolute best, Shire. Don't you worry...I just wanna ask one thing of you." Captain pulled away slightly, just enought to get a good look at Shureshire's face, "Check up on my parents, alight? Make sure Mallisomn is okay. And, I know you don't like him, but visit Fres once in a while for me. Until I get home." He made it sound like he was going away for twelve years, when it would really only be a few weeks, or however long this Hunger Games will last for.

Shureshire gave a nod, and offered a smile, "I'll try to be nice to Fres." The girl reassured him, as he moved a hand to cup her jaw, his fingers barely touching the surface of the skin on her face. The door opened once more, and it must have been the guard that was supposed to be monitoring the room because he popped his head in, "Time's up, let's go." The older man called into the room, waving his hand, motioning for Shire to exit the room. She pulled away and only offered another smile, "Good luck, Cap. I'll be rootin' for ya'." She patted his chest gently before being hurried out of the room, which fell dead silent. The gut wrenching feeling quickly returned. Right now, he was almost regretting volunteering for the Games. He wanted to go back home, but understood it was too late. Stupid, stupid me...Always putting others before myself...pft.

The door opened five minutes later and Arik had entered the room to find his son relaxing on the lounge chair. He was a strong man, and had faith in his son, but honestly, the old man was shocked when he heard Captain volunteer. Honestly, he was not expecting that... "Quite a surprise you pulled out there, Cap." Arik chuckled and approached his son, his hands folded behind his back as he moved across the room. Captain shrugged, "I had it planned for a little while...I wanted to do it for Mallisomn. If I can win the Games, we can get her some help and maybe she'll be alright." He looked up almost hopeful, rising brows in an innocent fashion. Arik was holding back his deep conern. Deep down, he wanted to scold Captain, but he was just scared, he didn't want to lose his son, "I'm happy you thought of your sister, Cap, but it's not your job, you don't have to throw your life away like that." Arik spoke, keeping his composure...barely. Captain offered a frown and averted his attention to the floor again, "I know...But this can benefit all of us." His voice was shallow, and regretting. Arik now having seated himself on the foot of the twin-sized bed, "But it was nothing you should have had to worry about." The older man answered, heaving a sigh as he combed his fingers through his dark brown locks, his own silver eyes being hidden behind tired lids. It was pretty much where Captain had received his eyes, his father. Bright silver orbs, popping out like pools of liquid iron or mercury.

"Anyways, it's a tradition to hand this down to the next family member that enters the Games. My father received it from his father who was one of the first to go in an earlier-on Game. This necklace just goes so far back you couldn't imagine...You need to carry it with you into this years Game."
Arik held out his hand, and in the palm was a silver laced chain necklace with a golden charm. It was an axe, and had the signature red tipped blade. Captain rose from the lounge chair and approached his father, reaching to grab the necklace with extreme delicacy. It was a sturdy chain, and the charm was big enough to be noticed. It was in pristine condition for its age. Captain smiled and moved to hug his father, "I'll wear it with pride, and I'll be extremely careful." He muttered reassuringly, holding the necklace behind his father, examining it. He could almost see everything in the reflection of the golden axe. Arik had said nothing, and only replied with a tight squeeze. By the subtle sniffles, Captain could tell his father was probably shedding tears. Of joy, or sadness, the teenager could not tell... "You've got another visitor..." The guard's words interjected the sentimental moment, but he was holding baby Mallisomn. Captain handed the necklace to his father after pulling away. Approaching the guard, he reached out for his baby sister, and wore the widest grin, "Your mother went home to clean up, she got spit up on but wanted you to at least see your sister." The guard explained, and Captain turned, walking away from the door which was gently shut by the guard.

He made himself comfortable on the bed beside his father, craddling Mallisomn in gentle arms. The small coughs and whines she emitted made Captain want to shrink away, but it seemed to give him all the more motive to do his best in the Hunger Games, "I'm doing this for you, Mall, because I love you. I'm going to come home, and we're going to make you all better." He cooed softly to the child, who turned her head in reaction to the soothing vibrations that his voice emitted. Captain couldn't help but crack a small, sincere smile, one that was truly rare coming from this particular boy.
Mallisomn even seemed to find it in her weak, withering body to pull off a baby smile, reaching up a tiny hand to grab Captain's finger. Her grip was firm, as firm as a weak infant standing at two months could get. He found hope in his little sister. She was going to pull through this, he knew it. He slouched slightly to kiss her forehead, then the guard was telling everyone to leave. Hesitantly, he offered Mallisomn to his father, who exchanged the necklace for the fragile infant, "We're all cheering for you, Captain, don't lose faith in yourself, alright?" Arik looked back at Captain, who stood and only gave a faint nod as a response.

Then everyone was gone...It was the last time he'd see them for only the Capitol knows how long...