YOLO PEEPS!
Here is District three reaping!
Please, a round of applause for author IxLOVExALOISxTRANCYx with Jasmine Emerson and Nrrrd-Grrrl-Meg with Cillian Fusion
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Jasmine Emerson's POV
The bright, and beautiful rays of the sun, burst through the window of a small home in the east section. Sighing, a girl with wavy blonde hair sits up as her chocolate brown eyes open to the sun that peaks through her window. Getting out of her lavender covered bed the girl moves towards the small sun peaking through the curtain. Seeing the peace keepers walk around the ground, the girl sighs and walks over to her door, opening it and walking to her medium sized kitchen. Grabbing a bowl of cereal, Jasmine sits down and eats slowly.
"Jasmine, the reaping will be happening soon, you must go bathe and get ready." says the small and timid maid that her father hadshired to look after her.
Turning, Jasmine walks toward the bathroom, undressing slowly to just piss the maid off. She then turns and looks at her battered body in the mirror. The bruises, and cuts are mainly from her not listening to her father and going into the restricted areas of town. Jasmine then turns and starts the water for her bath. Washing her hair and scrubbing the dirt off her body, she turns her head to see her cat sitting by the door of the bathroom meowing. Jasmine finishes bathing and goes out of the bathroom to her room. Seeing the pale dress and shoes laid out for her, Jasmine sighs. She then gets dressed and lets her maid do her hair, as she thinks quietly to herself. The loud alarm signals the time for her to go to the reaping, the maid looks as if she is afraid.
'It's not like she's in the reaping, she's too old.' thinks Jasmine as she gets up and walks towards the front door of her house.
Jasmine leaves the house, looking around to see everyone either crying or shaking with fear. Jasmine on the other hand, holds her head high and walks confidently to the town square. She then gets in the ever lasting line, as the person at the desk pricks the people's fingers, for them to sign in. Finally, it is Jasmine's turn to sign in. She lets the woman prick her finger and guide it to the paper.
"Go on, next!" the woman yells as Jasmine walks past the woman and into a random row of people.
She then waits for everyone else to sign in. After what seems like an eon, the reaping begins. The woman comes up to the microphone and begins to talk. Then the video starts.
"War, terrible war. Windows, orphans a motherless child. This was the uprising
that rocked out land. Thirteen districts rebelled against the country that fed
them, loved them, protected them. Brother turned on brother until nothing
remained. And then came the peace, hard fought, sorely won. A people rose up
from the ashes and a new era was born. But freedom had a cost. When the
traitors were defeated we swore as a nation, we would never know this treason
again. And so it was decreed that each year the various districts of Panem
offer up in tribute one young man and woman, to fight to the death in a
pageant of honor, courage, and sacrifice. The lone victor bathed in riches
would serve as a reminder of our generosity and our forgiveness. This is how
we remember our past this is how we safeguard our future." Said the screen
'BORING!' thinks Jasmine to herself, as she picks at her finger nails. Smiling, the ugly lady up on stage goes over to the microphone.
"Lady's first" she says with a smile, as she dipps her hand in the bowl, pulling out a name.
"Jasmine Emerson!" she said calling Jasmine's name. With a devilish smirk, Jasmine walks up to the stage.
"Now for the boys." says the weirdly dressed lady, as she dipps her hand in to the other bowl.
"Cillian Fusion" she calls out.
Kids and teens, look around until a boy with copper-colored wide eyes hidden behind partially broken glasses and shaggy ginger hair. The boy then slowly makes up to the stage looking stunned.
"We have our tributes, now shake hands you two," says the lady looking at them with green eyes.
The boy reaches out a shaking hand, Jasmine giving him a study hand shake, turns her back to him as she looks over at the lady.
"We have our tributes, and may the odds be ever in your favor." she says as she turns and walks through a pair of double doors.
Jasmine gets put in one room, while the other boy somewhere else.
Sighing, Jasmine sits on the ledge of the window. The door than takes that moment to open, her father walking in.
"Hello, daddy," says Jasmine with an evil smirk.
"Jasmine, i'm so sorry.." he says as he wraps her in a big bear hug.
"Don't be, I think this game will actually be quite fun." laughs Jasmine as she smirks.
"Jasmine, don't say that you do know you could die." he says as she unwraps herself.
"I know, and if I do, it won't really matter. Besides not like anyone would care if I died." Says Jasmine as she turns and sits on the wooden table.
Jasmine's father, then hangs his head down.
"Your the only thing I have left." He whispers. The peacekeeper then opens the door.
"Times up," he says as he looks at the other peacekeeper.
Her father walks out, as a random young and cute guy walks in. He hugs her as Jasmine looks at him with a raised eyebrow.
"S...sorry" he mutters as he softly cries his blonde hair covering his green eyes.
"Who are you, and why should you be sorry?" says Jasmine in a snake like voice, not caring one bit about his hurt looking face.
"Ummm, i'm Cole you probably don't remember me do you?" Cole asks as he wipes away his tears.
"No, I don't," she says turning her head away from him.
"I took the blame for you when you did something bad. You probably don't remember because they hit you upside the head with the whip." he says looking down at the ground. "We used to be best friends, when we were little anyways," Cole says as he looks up at Jasmine, who is wide eyed.
"I don't remember that..." she says stunned.
The peacekeeper then walkes in "Times up" he says looking at them.
Cole then looks at Jasmine and plants a soft kiss on her lips, the peacekeeper comes up and grabs Cole pulling him away from Jasmine.
"Wait!" Jasmine yells as she jumps up from the table running after them.
"Jasmine, just remember I love…" saays Cole before the door closes leaving Jasmine with teary eyes.
"NOOOOOOOOOOOO!" she screams opening the door and running out of the room. Getting down a few halls with peacekeepers running after her, she trips as one scoops her up, dragging her back to the room and locking it.
Cillian Fusion's POV
"Sleep, those little slices of death, how I loathe them."
Sometimes, in the dead of night, I can still see his face. The smell of burning wires, the crazed look in his eyes, the blade covered in AB negative blood. Same as mine, but belonging to the woman that brought me into the world and sacrificed her life for my own. Now, she lays slain at my feet, another life lost to the District Three slasher, along with my father. For reasons unknown, he left me alive to live with the survivors guilt that plagued me to this day. In another twist of fate, while I can remember the man that ruined my life vividly, I have no memory of my mother and even less of my father. To this day, I can not sleep through the night without seeing his electric blue eyes boring into my own and the smell of burning wires makes me nauseous.
The beginning light of day peeks its way through the shutters of my room here in #1 Victor's Village as I sat at my desk, disassembling my alarm clock in order to gain extra parts for my pet project: a working hoverboard. With everything I know about how the hovercrafts work, making a hoverboard should be easy as pie. Especially for a kid like myself.
My thoughts are interrupted by horrid screams that echoed down the hall and filled my room with dread. It's been like this every year since before I came to live here. While his nightmares never seem to go completely away, it gets worse the week before The Reaping. Being a victor has its perks, from all the riches you could ever need, the big house, the fame; it all comes at the price of your sanity. Wyres Virtue, winner of the ninth annual games, took me in a few years back after watching me amuse myself with the robot I created out of parts I had lying around...and the clocks I took apart at the orphanage. He saw in me a kindred spirit and whisked me away to live in his palace, given anything I could ever want. However, the only things I want, my parents and my voice, are things I can never get back, but the sentiment is nice. He provides me with everything I need to get by in life and I give him a reason to keep going year after year. I doubt we could live without each other.
As his screams intensified, I made my way towards the hallway and found Wyres thrashing about in his bed, almost as if he was fighting off someone bigger and stronger than himself. I've never watched his games fully; Wyres would never allow me too, but since he was our first-ever Victor, I've seen the highlight reel. Wyres was thought to be another bloodbath victim, caught by the brute from District Two, by was saved from an arrow from the girl from District Four, who became his ally. The lasted until the finale seven, when they split and she met her end at the district partner of the boy she killed in the Bloodbath and Wyres swore to win for her. With a bit of wire, the mines from the platforms, and a few things sponsors sent in, he created a remote landmine that he tossed at the back of the girl that took down his ally and burst her into so many pieces that not all of her left the arena that year. In the end, that was his only kill and it still ate at him every day. Now, nineteen years later, he still begs the girl from District Four, whose name he never learned, for forgiveness for winning while she went home in a pine box.
Since his victory, he has only brought home one other Victor, a timid girl name Leah Ian, who won mainly due to the arena being set inside factory, much like the one she worked in here in Three. She would join Wyres on stage in just a few hours, waiting to mentor the next pair of Bloodbath kids waiting to happen.
He must have sensed someone was in the room with him, because Wyres leaped out of bed and grabbed for the knife he hides under his bed. Quickly, I hit the light to show him that it was me, and he breathed a sigh of relief before placing the knife back in its home. His coal-black hair was a mess, sticking up in odd angles off of his head and his green eyes seemed even beadier without his thick glasses, but his smile was all Wyres. He fumbled for his glasses and asked me what I wanted for breakfast, smiling at my simply signed request of oatmeal.
"Kid, you are too simple."
By the time breakfast was finished, it was time for Wyres to make his way towards the Justice Center, leaving me behind to get myself ready for The Reaping. Thanks to Wyres, my name is only in the bowl twice, but I still worry about my chances of being picked. If my calculations are correct, I have less than .3145380 chance of being picked, but that is IF you believe that these things aren't rigged, much like I believe them to be. For all I know, the Capitol could resent Wyres for taking out their precious District Two lapdogs and seek to punish him by taking me away from him. By now they have to know that he took in a little orphan and why let me live? After all, I was already saved from death once...what makes me special enough to be saved twice?
I need to clear my mind, to get back to some form of normalcy before heading into the lion's den, so it was back to the hoverboard, where I had it nearly complete by the time my lone-remaining clock in my bedroom told me it was an hour before I had to be there. Quickly, I showered and changed into my brown slacks and white button-down shirt, the same outfit I wore last year and the year before and the year before, because I haven't really grown much since I was roughly nine years old. Pleased with the fact that I might actually have grown enough to warrant another outfit, I made my way from the Victor's Village and down the path that lead straight for the Justice Building. Within moments, I am reminded of the smog that hangs over our city and the array of tall buildings that let little light pass through and cast shadows no matter what time of day it is. This is one of the many reasons why I am glad to have my house on the hill, even though I feel isolated and alone up there, especially when Wyres is out on official Hunger Games business. Anything is better than being cooped up in this dark hellhole I once called home.
The Peacekeeper looked annoyed when he asked for my name and I pulled out my notepad and wrote "Cillian Fusion" in large letters, which only made him jam my finger twice as hard. I sucked on my injured finger until I was safely tucked away in the thirteen year old section. From his spot on the stage, Wyres winked, letting me know he was there no matter what happened to me. It gave me a sense of hope that lasted until our deranged and distant male escort, Vanilla Malloon, went about to his name-plucking business. He waddled much like a duck would, towards the girls fishbowl containing hundreds of different names across a multitude of cards and came out with one unlucky name.
"JASMINE EMERSON!"
The sea parted around a girl in the fifteen year old section, where a girl with wavy blonde hair makes her way towards the stage and if I had to guess, she was smirking at the thought of being Reaped. Well, at least Wyres has at least ONE tribute that might make it back. Once on stage, the blonde-haired girl seemed to find it funny that she was picked.
"And now, for the boys."
The odds are in my favor and I know it, only two cards in that entire bowl have my name on it. Two, out of hundreds. I repeat the calculations I had created to make myself feel better about The Reaping over and over again in my head, drowning out the sounds of everything else. It wasn't until I saw the other boys around me back away that I knew my name had been chosen.
"Cillian, my dear, I will not be kept waiting."
With tears in my eyes, I made my way towards the stage on legs made of jelly. The odds were supposed to be in my favor, my name was only in there twice, and yet, I am here, marching my way towards certain death. My days are numbered and I know it, as one glance at Wyres' tear-drenched face nicely reminds me. As I accended the steps, I wiped the tears from my eyes and stood next to Jasmine, the girl excited to go into the arena.
"Anything you'd like to say, Mr. Fusion?"
Oh, dear Malloon, I'd love to say a million things. I really would. Instead, I sign a simple goodbye to my District before I am forced to shake hands and whisked into the Justice Building and dumped into a tiny, sparcly furnished room. Luckily, I am not alone for long.
"Cillian, my dear Cillian." Wyres wraps me in his arms and cries into my shoulder. "You can do this, you are brilliant. Just get your hands on some machinery and get yourself out. Do you understand me?"
I signed back to him. "Are you coming with me?"
He shook his head and stared at the floor. "They...they won't let me. They are allowing Leah to mentor both of you because they don't want you getting special treatment. But if you need something in the arena, anything at all, sign it. More than likely they won't notice you doing it and I will use everything in my power to have it sent to you, don't you worry."
With tears in my eyes, I said goodbye to the man that has taken care of me all these years in the only way I knew how. I Love You. It was one of the first things he ever taught me to sign and I signed it overt and over again until he was ripped from my arms by Peacekeepers. Deep in my heart, I know this will be the last I will ever see of him.
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