At 2:30, wearing a pink dress that's just a little too small, Rose, Jackie, and Mickey board the tram that will take them to the district square, centered right on the border between the Field side and the Factory side.
Fact was, in District 9 that's how everyone identified themselves, Field or Factory. Though Field was on the District seal, for a good reason; they grew the hybrid tesserae grain, the genetically engineered grain that was a high protein, high nutrition alternative to other grains, like barley, wheat or oats. Officially, that was District 9's industry, the Capitol seemed to be saying A whole district responsible for growing grain so many depend on, are we not merciful?
Reality, it wasn't even half of the district's job, like most districts there was a secondary industry and here in District 9 it was Metal. The Factory part largely consisted of foundries and that was where the mines of Panem sent the raw ore. Once the ore was refined and alloyed, iron and steel were shipped to 2 and 5, copper mostly to 3 and 6, precious metals to 1 and so on down the line.
Still, same district or not, it didn't stop Factory form looking at Field as a bunch of unwashed yokels and Field looking at Factory as a bunch of gangsters. Though on reaping day everyone stood together.
Taking her place between a couple of Field 18 year olds, with rather sun bleached hair and tan skin, she looked around to catch a glimpse of Jackie and Mickey settling in with the other families.
Nervously fingering the gold bracelet on her left hand, she looked away from them. The bracelet had been her father's, even had his name on it and no matter how hard life god Jackie refused to sell it. Rose understood that, something's just mattered more than food or money, and this was one of them. And Jackie had long insisted that Rose wear it to the reaping.
"Means your father is looking out for you sweetheart." She'd said this year as she'd put the bracelet on Rose's arm. And Rose wasn't going to argue with that, it was one of the only pieces of her father they had left.
As soon as everyone was assembled, the mayor took the stage and read the Treaty of Treason. Really this part of the proceedings was just a formality and Rose wished they'd just get the reaping over with. As usual, after he finished he introduced the districts past victors of the Games.
There had only been 5 in District 9's history, but only 3 were currently living. The oldest was Sarah Jane Smith, at 55 who had been reaped when she was 16; the year her mom was born. She honestly had no idea how the woman, who didn't look like much, had won her Games. Someone had once said that she had the heart of a lion, and Rose supposed that was true enough, anything Sarah Jane did she did with all her being. She'd turned around the community home for orphans (which from what Rose had heard, had been a nightmare before she'd gotten her hands on it), and she was notorious for getting into things she really shouldn't, but coming out with barely more than a few scrapes. It was also fairly well known that she was a prolific writer; it was rare that she didn't have something to write in on her. And it was often times while she was out roaming for something to write about that she got into trouble, which she seemed to be a magnet for. In any case, the people of District 9 rested a lot easier knowing that if anything ever happened, their kids would be well looked after.
Donna Noble was the other female victor, 42 years old, and when she made her presence known, she MADE her presence known. Some joked that she'd just yelled at the other tributes until they ran away. Doubtful, but you did not want to cross Donna Noble, though from what Rose knew Donna's mother Sylvia would give her mother a run for her money. Rose had encountered Donna once or twice in passing; she kept Henrick's files in order. Still, under the brass lungs and hot temper, Donna was a caring person; you just had to get to know her under that force of nature personality. Not easy sometimes from what rumors Rose had heard.
And then there was the Doctor, 45 and the only living male victor. If he'd had a real name, no one remembered it; everyone just called him the Doctor, even the mayor. He'd won a few years before Donna, and she and Sarah Jane were among the few people he put up with. It was a well-known fact that he and Sarah Jane considered each other family, as neither had living family at this point. He also had a knack for finding trouble that rivaled Sarah Jane's, he'd found his way out of many rocky situations, some with Sarah Jane. And it was fairly common for him and Donna to be seen around the district, trading barbs with each other like siblings. Beyond that though, he was known for being caustic, rude, confrontational, and acerbic and your only hope for medical treatment if you were ill or injured and couldn't afford the hospital. He would treat people for free and most of the people who went to him came out singing praises of him. He had a heart of gold underneath the caustic exterior; it was just hard to get past.
Still, it took a lot of nerve to talk to him, as his general manner was exemplified as he stood on the platform; arms crossed, glaring down his nose with his cold blue eyes as if he was disapproving of the whole world. Though instead of dressing up like everyone else (though Sarah Jane and Donna's clothes just seem to be better kept and nicer looking versions of their preferred styles) he wore what he always wore. Chunky, but sturdy black boots, black denim jeans, a t-shirt, though when it got colder out he'd wear a light sweatshirt, and a worn black leather jacket. Rose got the feeling that the 3 enjoyed the reaping about as much as she did, not much at all.
After the mayor finished the Capitol escort, Reina, came up. She'd only been assigned to the district last year and was on the young side for an escort, though Rose figured she was ambitious. She was rather pretty, even if the pompadour wig, the gaudy gold dress and highly stylized makeup made it hard to discern. Bored, Rose attempted to read her lips and entertained herself with a bad lip reading of what she knew was being said.
And now it was time for the reaping.