Mishra Erfinder, 17, District 3
Five years ago
Mishra was careful as he dug through the various scraps of old computers, cars, and robots that decorated the junkyard across town. He and Aadin had been there for about three hours, and they hadn't found anything to show for it. Aadin was starting to give up hope, but Mishra kept digging. There had to be something hidden underneath the rubble, something they could use.
"Have you checked the other side?" Mishra asked as he slipped, almost losing his footing entirely.
"Yes. I'm telling you, there's nothing here," Aadin said for the tenth time in the last hour. Mishra must've tuned it out.
"Well, what about-" Mishra stumbled again, jumping from one pile to another.
"We've checked it all, Mishra. Let's just go home." Mishra ignored his twin brother's pleas.
"You're just jealous because you know whatever I build will be the best thing ever," Mishra said with a cheeky smile plastered on his face.
He knew something was there. And he was going to find it.
Another half an hour passed as Mishra dug through another pile of scraps. He didn't know when Aadin stopped to sit down, but he ignored him to continue working.
And that's when he saw it. Something shimmered under the sunlight, which caught his eye. It was exactly what he was looking for. And it was still wrapped in its original packaging.
"Ah hah!" He said, pulling it out of the trash and showing his brother. His brother didn't share his same enthusiasm and stayed where he was seated.
"What is it?" He asked with a sense of relief. Mishra sensed it was more so due to the fact he could now leave.
"This, my brother, is the key to our latest creation," Mishra jumped down onto the solid ground, carefully examining the new chip in his possession.
For the last few months, Mishra and his brother had been working on a prototype of a surveillance detection system of sorts. One that would detect underground motion, up to as sensitive as being able to track worms.
"Great. Can we go now?" Aadin asked. Mishra nodded but promised himself he would be back soon.
(He didn't know soon wouldn't come.)
They arrived home to a surprising sight. Their parents were sitting at the kitchen table with two men that Mishra didn't recognize.
"Hi, boys. Come sit," their mother said, and they obliged.
As their parents spoke, Mishra's eyes were focused on the two strange men. Their appearance screamed Capitol, but more subtly than the ones he was used to seeing on the television. They were wearing colorful suits, and their white-blonde hair was slicked back. One had thick glasses on, but Mishra wondered if it was for aesthetics instead of vision.
Mishra doesn't remember what words were shared that afternoon. Other than "exceptional students", "good of Panem", and "great opportunities". Mishra remembered how excited his parents were, and in turn, how excited he was. A place for him to not only practice his skills but a place where he was encouraged to.
He was eager to sign up immediately, but of course, Aadin was skeptical.
(Mishra thought this would be the best thing that would ever happen to him.)
So it was decided. The Erfinder brothers would join District Three's Young Inventors Program. They packed up and said their goodbyes, and a few days later found themselves on campus.
They arrived at their dorm, a shared bedroom that was larger than the one they had at home. As they unpacked, Mishra noticed how unusually quiet Aadin was.
He was about to speak up and say something when a knock came to the door.
"Hellooooo!" A singsongy voice echoed in the small hallway outside.
"Come in," Mishra said as he turned to face the door.
A boy entered, one that wasn't any older than Mishra. He had scruffy hair and a dorky smile on his face, but when he held his hand out, Mishra shook it.
"Filo, at your service," he said with a bow.
"Mishra. This is my brother, Aadin," he said as he looked at Aadin, whose head was still stuck in his luggage.
"Wonderful to meet you. My roomie and I live just beside you, so we'll be seeing each other a lot," Filo said, tilting his head to the right. "We've been here for a bit of time, so if you need a single thing, we're your guys."
"Actually, yeah, I had a question," Aadin stood up and faced Filo for the first time since his arrival. "How…is this place? Overall, I mean."
Mishra was shocked at the question and didn't understand where his brother was coming from. Not until Filo's smirk dropped.
"Ah, a perceptive one you are. All I'll say is…keep your eyes open," he said softly. He cleared his throat. "But really, welcome. You two should be just fine."
(Although Mishra had expected nothing less, he wished he took Filo's warnings closer to heart as his brother did.)
Mishra settled immediately, but Aadin struggled. On multiple occasions, he told Mishra how badly he wanted to return home.
"You have to make the most of this, Aadin. We'll never get an opportunity like this again," he remembered saying.
(It took some time, but he was glad to see when Aadin took it to heart.)
The years away from home flew. Mishra found himself comfortable with a small group of kids, Filo and his roommate, Arrhenius, included.
He was thriving. At least, socially. He wasn't the strongest inventor there, and he never pretended he was. In fact, it was Aadin who took that title. Aadin, who Mishra saw less and less of as the years passed, despite sharing the same room. When they weren't learning, or being tested on various concepts of mechanical engineering or physics, Aadin was in the lab working on his latest invention. In their own way, they were both thriving.
So when Mishra found himself in the headmaster's office, he couldn't imagine what it would be for.
"Your grades aren't what we had hoped, Mr. Erfinder," his words stung. At some level, Mishra knew the truth behind them. It didn't make it any easier to hear.
"You have a final test coming up, do you not? Score high enough, and you will see a future here," his warnings resonated with Mishra.
"You have to make the most of this." His own words to his brother came back into his mind.
It wasn't easy, but he did. He threw himself into his studies, day and night leading up to the exam. Filo warned him not to overwork himself, the effects of sleep deprivation clearly kicking in. But Mishra couldn't lose out on this opportunity. No, he wanted it too bad. He needed it.
Exam day came and went, and Mishra's test scores were not only passing, but they were also exemplary. Suddenly, Mishra's scores put him at the top of the class, taking the spot from his own brother.
When Mishra returned to their room that night, he had expected his brother to praise him or at the least display some level of happiness. He did not expect the greeting he got.
"How could you?" Aadin asked with a tone Mishra had never heard before.
"What?" A genuine shock came across Mishra's face. His brother shook his head.
"You spent the last four years slacking, and now you want to pretend you give a shit? Now you want to diminish all the work I've been doing?" Aadin's voice started to rise.
"We-we're always trying to one-up each other, brother. It's what we do. It's just a game," Mishra kept his voice calm, but inside, he was breaking.
"No, no see that's where you're wrong. It's a game for you. This is my livelihood." Aadin's face turned red.
Why am I being scolded for my accomplishments? Mishra's brain rattled.
"You wouldn't even be here if it wasn't for me! Or did you conveniently forget, you didn't even want to come here," Mishra shouldn't have engaged further. But he couldn't help himself.
"Mishra-" Aadin got closer to Mishra, and Mishra shoved him back.
"No, you don't get to hyper-fixate on my life. Look, I'm sorry it didn't work out for you. But don't get mad at me because you failed." Mishra knew the words were wrong as soon as they exited his mouth.
Aadin shoved him back, causing Mishra to lose his footing. He doesn't know if he threw the first punch, or Aadin did, but all he knows was that it turned aggressive. So much so that Mishra ended up on the ground, his nose bleeding, and his cheek bruised.
(How could the best thing to ever happen to him turn into the worst thing to ever happen to him, in an instant?)
When he recovered, he left the dorm and stumbled into Filo's room. Neither Filo nor Arrhenius were there, and that was fine. Mishra needed the time to himself.
By the time Filo did arrive, Mishra could tell something was up.
(It must have been in the air that day.)
"Mishra…I need your help," he said, his voice shaking. He didn't even notice Mishra's face, not at first. And when he did, Mishra just shook his head and that was sufficient.
"What?" Mishra asked, desperate for something to take his mind off of his brother.
"I…I have concerns. And I want…I so desperately want to prove myself wrong. But to do so, well, it won't be exactly legal here." Filo coughed and Mishra could sense the anxiety he had.
(Mishra probably shouldn't have agreed so quickly. But what else did he have to lose?)
Davidson Zinaro, 16, District 6
Four years ago
The Zinaro twins were attached at the hip, as their guardian would say. Davidson could always be found only a few feet away from Harleigh, ever since they were born. They didn't need anyone else in their lives.
(At least, that's how Harleigh saw it.)
Harleigh was the rock Davidson needed. She was grounded when his head was in the clouds. She was serious when he was jovial. She was strong when he was less so.
Davidson couldn't imagine a life without her.
Davidson loved exploring the District. He loved running around with children his age, getting into things they probably shouldn't have been getting into. And the kids loved when Davidson joined them.
(Their feelings weren't mutual with Harleigh, though.)
It was a brisk day in District Six as the two walked to their first day of a new school year.
"Do you think we'll be in all the same classes?" Davidson asked.
"I'm not sure. Maybe," she replied, adjusting her backpack.
(Davidson didn't know which would be better.)
There was not a single thing Davidson wouldn't do for Harleigh, and he knew there wasn't a single thing she wouldn't do for him.
(Sometimes, just for a moment, he wished it was different.)
As they entered the school ground, Davidson was surrounded by familiar faces. Some of those faces turned to him to wave. Some glanced at him and his sister without doing anything. And some didn't acknowledge them at all.
Davidson and Harleigh were used to it. Harleigh embraced it. She gave them a reason to continue ignoring them, with her snarky comments and evil glares.
Davidson hated it.
He would walk to the end of the Earth with Harleigh. He loved her with everything he had. But being surrounded by other kids his age, with her as his twin sister, wasn't always easy.
(She didn't make it easy.)
The walk through campus to their first class was anxiety-inducing for Davidson. When he sat down, he ended up a few rows away from her. He was able to smile and engage with the kids sitting around him.
(Why was it this hard for him?)
At home, Harleigh was a different person. Her home was all she needed, according to her. It didn't matter that neither of their birth parents were in their lives. They had Avianna. She supported them more than any other mother would, and they adored her.
(Sometimes, Davidson wanted to know more about their birth parents. But Harleigh discouraged it. She hated her parents for abandoning them. While he understood…it didn't suppress his curiosity.)
Between the three of them, they were always there for each other. But public-facing, Harleigh was someone else entirely.
When they returned home from school that day, Avianna asked how their day was.
"Fine," Harleigh had said as she pulled out some homework.
"Yeah. Fine," Davidson said, a little quieter. He sat next to his sister, and they worked on their homework together. He helped her, and she helped him, and together they were done in less than an hour. They didn't finish without sharing a laugh or two, of course. Even Avianna cracked a smile.
(This was the Harleigh he wanted everyone to know.)
But Davidson struggled with his conflicting feelings the rest of the school year, and the school years to come. His desire to make friends was superseded by his relationship with his twin.
(He wished he enjoyed his time with her more. If he knew what came…)
It was another typical reaping day. Davidson and Harleigh stood in the square, surrounded by dozens of other children who resided in Six. Nerves were high, knowing that in just a few minutes, two families would be changed forever.
(Davidson couldn't have known it would be his.)
Harleigh Zinaro was reaped as the female tribute for the 109th Hunger Games.
Davidson cried when her name was pulled. He cried during goodbyes, he had never hugged anyone as tightly as he did then. He anxiously watched every moment of the Capitol festivities. Her stoic look at the chariots. Her determined demeanor, and higher-than-average score of 6.
(Not as high as the aggressively trained Careers, though.)
His eyes were glued on her during the bloodbath, in which she narrowly escaped. She played the game alone, surviving through the first few nights without much incident.
But day three came and went, and so did the last moments of Harleigh Zinaro's life.
Davidson was stunned for the rest of the Hunger Games. It was almost not real – it was like his brain couldn't physically handle the days without his sister. He hardly moved, he didn't speak. Everything he had ever known was shattered in a single moment.
(All while the Capitol cheered.)
During the first month of his grieving, Avianna sat him down.
"I am your birth mother. Yours, and Harleigh's," she said. If Davidson was in a normal headspace, he would have been shocked. He would have had questions upon questions. But at that moment, he was still. He had nothing to say.
(He was getting used to that.)
She explained her reasoning for keeping it a secret to Davidson, but he didn't care. He was utterly shocked and frankly, ecstatic. He hugged her tightly, tears covering both of their faces.
(He hadn't cried happy tears in…months.)
(How could he be so happy when Harleigh was gone?)
The following months were excruciatingly painful for Davidson. Nightmares of the arena plagued his sleep. Detailed visualizations of her last moments, flashes of the Career that took her life.
Davidson was just glad he didn't end up winning. If he had to see that murderer's face celebrated…
When he did go back to school, he had prepared to be shut off from those around him. He expected the days to drag on, for people to point and whisper as he passed by them in the hallway.
But they didn't do that. Instead, they sat closer to him during class. They waved at him in the hallways. They asked if he was okay and if he needed anything.
(He didn't know what to say, so he didn't say anything.)
They invited him to their lunch tables. They included him in their conversations. They helped him with his homework, and with lessons he had fallen behind on.
Davidson thought they were just pitying him. But months passed, and they never stopped engaging with him.
It helped him come back out of his shell. He still had his nightmares, but school became a good escape.
For the first time in a long time, he was…almost happy.
(It was coupled with guilt, of course.)
How could he be happy with Harleigh gone? She was his everything.
(And yet.)
6 months before the reaping
Years passed slowly, but by the time he was sixteen, he had a solid group of friends he could lean on when he needed to. He spent time with them in and out of school, and it made him happy. When he was alone, he was with Avianna-his mom.
(He was still getting used to calling her Mom.)
It was only when he was alone, truly alone, did the guilt creep back in and threaten to eat him alive.
Harleigh's face filled his mind. Memories of her, of how happy he was with her. But also how…awkward he was with others.
He would've given anything to have her back. The pain of her absence didn't lessen with time. And when he looked around himself, at how different life had become since her absence, it was hard not to wonder what it would look like if she was still here.
(If he could have both, he would. If only he could…)
So he did what he could to honor her memory. He remembered the good times. He kept her belongings in his room. He talked about her whenever he could. He honored her memory. Even those that didn't love her when she was alive listened with joy as he reminisced.
As long as Davidson Zinaro lived, so would Harleigh.
Oswaldo "Ozzy" Moquette, 17, District 8
Three years ago
The rain poured down on Ozzy as he tried to make himself as small as possible under the roof of the bakery. He pulled his jacket over Scarlet as she shivered.
Ozzy wondered if they did the right thing. But then he remembered the pits, and seeing her bruised and bloodied, and he knew they made the right choice.
"We'll find shelter soon. I promise," he told her. She nodded, still shivering under his jacket.
He knew he said it yesterday. And the day before. But it's not easy for two kids to find a safe place to hide. Especially without ending up in the orphanage.
Why couldn't they have been born to anyone else? Anyone who didn't force their kids to fight for money for them. It didn't matter he rigged so many of the fights in their favor, the punches were real. The blood was real. The pain was real.
Especially when he wouldn't give them a single one of their earnings.
They got tired of it. So they ran. And they ran and ran until they were in a section of the District they had never seen before. It was a quieter part of town, and slightly more run down. The people who did live here just ignored the two kids, which was fine with them. They scavenged what they could, but Ozzy knew it wasn't sustainable.
"What are you two doing?" a male voice made Ozzy's heart jump. He looked up and an older man was staring down at them.
"We…we were just-" Ozzy started.
"Minding our business," Scarlet said. Ozzy was shocked at her direct answer. But the stranger just laughed.
"You're doing a shit job, sitting out in the rain," he said. He started to continue his walk down the road.
"We don't have any shelter," Ozzy said, standing up to face the man with some dignity. The man looked him up and down, then over his shoulder.
"I can see that," he sighed. "Come on. You can sleep in my factory."
Scarlet didn't trust it, and Ozzy understood completely. But he felt this was the only chance he had to get his sister out of the rain.
So the man led them to his factory, and let them inside. It was smaller than the ones Ozzy was used to seeing. He figured that's why it was on the edge of town.
The man agreed to let them sleep in the office. Scarlet was on the couch, and Ozzy was with a blanket and pillow on the floor. He even provided them with some dry clothes that belonged to his grandchildren.
"This isn't so bad," he remembered saying to his sister. She didn't say anything as she rolled over to go to sleep.
Ozzy had only expected to spend one night there, but they were in luck. The factory was down a few workers.
So in exchange for the office to sleep in, and consistent meals on their plate, they stayed in the factory working. They were assigned more menial tasks, as they were still children, but Ozzy didn't care. It was safer than the work they had been doing.
He knew Scarlet didn't like it, but it was their best option, and she knew it. She wanted other opportunities and actively searched for them.
So Ozzy wasn't surprised when they eventually got roped in with a gang of thieves, all workers of the same factory. There were about four of them, and Ozzy and Scarlet made six.
When Ozzy met the "leader", Hickcox, for the first time he didn't get the best feeling in his stomach.
But he listened as Hickcox explained how their gang worked. He wanted Ozzy and Scarlet to join in on their first heist. A simple robbery after the end of their shift. A homestead on the other side of the District.
It was a simple plan. The family wasn't home, so once the lock was picked, they were in. The siblings, Hickcox and another gang member called Bob split up the floors. Ozzy and Scarlet gathered as much as they could on the top floor.
"Did you clear that room?" Scarlet asked, pointing at a small closet Ozzy hadn't seen. He said as much, then moved over to search through it.
By the time they leave, all four of them have full sacks.
"Did anyone scout the place?" Scarlet asked.
"Is she serious?" Bob asked Hickcox. He ignored him.
"No, princess. Did it matter?" He pushed past the twins and headed back to the factory.
On the walk back, Ozzy sensed his sister plotting…something. He knew her well enough to know that look she got when her mind was going.
So when they regrouped with the rest of the gang and turned in their findings to be sold and split, she already had an idea.
They would form a fictitious cleaning service. Ozzy would act as the cleaner, gaining full access to the house and playing distraction, all while Scarlet snuck in and mapped out the house. Then, the entire gang would return and rob as much as they could. In and out, that was Scarlet's plan.
Hickcox liked it and picked their first target. Ozzy felt uncomfortable in his pretend professional wear, but he talked to the owner like a natural. He got so into the conversation he forgot it was a trick. He gave Scarlet all the time she needed, and later that night, they made a bigger score than the gang had seen in years.
This went on for the next few years. Ozzy and Scarlet were making good money, and no one ever suspected it was them pulling off these heists. The gang grew a few members, but Ozzy felt like they had secured their place in the gang. Like they were equally valued amongst the rest.
He was wrong.
"They're fucking stealing from us." Scarlet barged into their office/bedroom as Ozzy was trying to nap on the couch.
"What?" He rubbed his eyes and sat up.
"They've been giving us a smaller cut than everyone else." Her face was turning red. Ozzy stood up and placed his hands on her shoulder.
"Hey, hey. Calm down. It'll be…it'll be okay," he tried to say.
"It's not fucking okay," she said, pushing him back. She rubbed her temple, then took a breath.
"You're right," he said. "Let's do something about it."
"Okay. What did you have in mind?" She asked, her face returning to its normal color.
He smiled.
They played the rest of the night out as normal, going through the motions of the robbery. No one suspected a thing.
So when they were done, and everyone else headed back to the factory, Ozzy and Scarlet disappeared into the night.
3 months before the reaping
Ozzy woke up to the smell of bacon coming from the kitchen.
He jumped out of bed and pushed his door open to reveal Scarlet standing in the kitchen preparing breakfast. As he walked, he felt his pocket knife gently pressed against his leg in his sweatpants pocket.
After they left the factory, they found their way to the inner dwellings of the District. They bought a small apartment, and that was where they had been living. They stayed out of sight, their neighbors didn't even know who they were. They had saved plenty of money from their years living in the factory, and they knew they could live safely. For a while.
"That for me?" he asked, reaching for one of the fully cooked pieces. Scarlet slapped his hand.
"Ah! No." She went back to her cooking, effectively blocking Ozzy from stealing more bacon.
Ozzy walked to the fridge to pull out a bottle of water. As he did, a movement outside his window caught his eye.
And the faces he saw made his heart drop to his stomach. He dropped the bottle of water and rushed to the door.
"Stay here," he said and left before she could say anything.
How did they find us? What are they doing here? They can't be here-
He walked out the back door of the complex and, waiting in the alleyway, Hickcox, and Bob.
"Well, well, well," Hickcox glared at Ozzy with an evil look in his eyes.
Ozzy didn't think twice. He sprinted down the other side of the alley, and he ran and ran and ran. He kept running until he hit the edge of the District, continuing to glance over his shoulder to make sure the gang members were on his trail. They were.
He turned to face his assailants as he hit the fence that kept him in. Hickcox wasted no time, he rushed in and tackled Ozzy to the ground. He sat on top of him and repeatedly punched his face.
Ozzy struggled to block the strikes as the pain seared through his skin. He could hear Bob laughing from afar.
Get off me get off me get off-
Ozzy isn't sure when he reached into his pants pocket. He isn't sure when he pulled the knife out. Nor was he sure what compelled him to stab it into Hickcox's neck.
In fact, he hadn't realized what he'd done until the punches ceased and the body weight shifted off of him. He pushed himself up and watched as Hickcox pulled the knife out, blood covering his mouth.
"You asshole!" Bob ran to his friend, but Ozzy was faster. He swiped the knife and stood up to face the other gang member.
"You're dead!" Bob reached for Ozzy, but he pulled back.
"Please…" he begged. He didn't want to he didn't want to he doesn't want to be a murderer-
But Bob kept advancing, and his fate was sealed just as Hickcox's was.
(Ozzy thought he was going to be sick.)
He fled back to his apartment, blood stains still on his clothes, the pocket knife pressed against his leg.
When he reached the front door of his apartment, his heart dropped to his chest. The front door was wide open, and the smell of burnt bacon filled the room.
And Scarlet was nowhere to be found.
Ahhh welcome to intro 4! Mishra was sent in by TheWatcheroftheVoid, Davidson was sent in by the lovely goldie031, and Ozzy was sent in by Nautics! A big thank you to District11-Olive and rising-balloons for beta'ing y'all are awesome.
With this set of intros we're officially halfway through the intros! Next Sunday there will be a short interlude/subplot chapter, and the Sunday after that will be intro 5 with Vetiver, Chaffinch, and Moriko! That's going to be a fun group.
Happy Sunday!