tw: bullying and poison in Choux's POV. fire in Valerian's POV. DM me if you prefer a recap.

Choux Macbeth, 18, District 1

6 years ago

In District One, there were two types of upper class: those who assumed they were in power, and those who held the power. Fortunately for the Macbeth family, they fell into the latter.

It was no easy feat, however. Their legacy had been built up since the creation of Panem's thirteen districts. Every choice, every decision made by a member of the Macbeth Family had consequences. Lear Macbeth, Choux's grandfather, currently ran the large estate. Every decision he made, he made carefully.

Cause and effect. A fortune built on the backs of others.

Yet Choux Macbeth wasn't in the plan.

Her mother thought there were only two babies in her belly. The future heirs to the Macbeth family's names were special to Mr. and Mrs. Macbeth - Bijou and Bébé. So when the midwife pulled out a third baby, the Macbeth's were entirely unprepared.

Growing up, there was no doubt in Choux's mind that she could have any claim to the real Macbeth power. She assumed it would go to one of her siblings - Bijou or Bébé. All three were born simultaneously, yet Choux never connected with either of them. When they chose chaos, she chose quiet. When they started picking fights with their cousins, Choux secluded herself to the back of the room, with a good book in hand. When it was quiet, and only then, was she truly happy.

Unfortunately, even the fortunate ones don't always get what they want. The more she pulled away from her siblings, the more she was ultimately pulled in. Bébé was tough, but Bijou was just flat-out cruel. He made the girls' lives a living hell. It was thanks to him that Bébé will wear burn marks on her face for the rest of her life. It was thanks to him that the Macbeth cousins pestered and picked on Choux. Since they couldn't get back at him, they took it out on her. It was thanks to her own brother that Choux didn't get her peace and quiet.

Her life wasn't always miserable. She spent many hours in her grandfather's library. She was drawn to the books less ragged, those that analyzed the complex psyche of the human mind. Lear Macbeth's assistant, Chevalier Montague, took notice and with his guidance, she absorbed the knowledge presented to her.

Her grandfather allowed it. He assumed she would take Chevalier's position when she and her siblings reached adulthood. It was clear she was not fit to be the Macbeth matriarch.

(But his other options weren't that compelling, either.)

She was thirteen when she piqued his curiosity. Every living Macbeth were invited to his mansion for dinner. It was something of an annual tradition, one Choux wasn't too fond of. Gathering like this only invited torment, from both her siblings and her cousins. Yet for the first time, Choux was ready.

It was subtle, but her grandfather noticed. The way she redirected her cousins' anger. The words she said to move their attention elsewhere were so deliberate. And effective.

And for the first time in Choux's life, her grandfather saw her potential. And when he called her into his study to ask about it, he was even more impressed when she played it off so casually.

Yes, Choux Macbeth was a natural.

Despite her best efforts, she was still only a child. And the anger of children cannot be suppressed by a few deliberate words. The more Bijou tormented their cousins, the more they retaliated against Choux. They went so far as to scar her, cutting off the tip of her ear one day after deciding she needed a bit of a haircut. How ridiculous the whole thing was. The worst part was how they continued to parade her around the Academy, bloody-faced and short-haired, without a hint of regret.

(Choux had enough.)

It started off as a normal day. The twins were in training and Choux was in the library. Bijou had just stepped up to spar with another trainee his age. According to witnesses, Bijou started mumbling nonsense. Swatting the air in front of his face, hysterical about the bugs crawling over his body and flying in front of his face. And when his fellow trainee stepped up to try and soothe him, no one could have predicted the reaction the distressed boy would have.

(No one but Choux, at least. She had calculated the dose of datura carefully. He didn't even feel the poisoned pin enter the soles of his feet.)

At the funeral, her parents were distraught. One of their pride and joys, gone. Choux played the part of the mournful sister. She cried when no one was looking, and wiped away tears when they were. Her extended family and family friends gave their condolences.

All except her cousins, whose eyes were locked in on Choux, and not in a mournful way. One cousin, in particular, was a frequent target for Bébé. Choux waited, waited so patiently until the time was right. Then, as she slipped past the girl, she muttered, "Lightning strikes twice on a fool waving around a knife."

Choux bid her time, she waited for schedules to return to normal, for the mourning period to pass. And then, when Bébé returned to training, she decided to strike.

Bébé was in the showers after a long day of training. It was so long and exhausting, that she didn't even realize the handle had fallen off on the outside. Not until the first of the trainers arrived, hearing the shower still running. When they finally forced the door open, they were greeted with the unsightly demise of Bébé Macbeth. It took them a while to work out what happened, and a horrible accident it was. A loose light fell while she was showering, knocking her to the ground. The shock from the light's contact with water, combined with the build-up of water in the shower.

Another horrible tragedy amongst the Macbeth family created a world of peace for Choux Macbeth.

Her cousin, who had heard her warnings at the funeral, feared Choux. Feared what she was capable of. And from that moment onward, the cousins who used to take so much joy in tormenting her started to leave her alone.

Peace and quiet. Finally.

Except, nothing ever lasts.

Choux continued her training, ensuring the Macbeth's still looked strong in the eyes of the district. And it worked. She had found herself at the top of the class, the first choice for the female Career for the 110th Hunger Games.

And she was going to pass it up. Ride on the coattails of her family legacy as long as she could.

But Lear Macbeth needed her to work for it. The Macbeth legacy would not fall to the runt of the family without a reason. He needed her to prove she was worth it over every other member of the family.

So he offered her a deal.

"You are the last option to inherit any of my estate. But we both know you're worth more than the others. I could give it to you right now, even. But I am not a charitable man. You've killed your siblings, Choux. Go and kill twenty-three others. I don't care if you play the bumbling fool or if you talk them into suicide. As long as you come back with proof of your skill, no one will contest your position as my heir."

Initially, Choux wasn't interested. But the more she thought about the proposal, the more the idea resonated with her. It was the perfect path to anything she could ever want. With the power and fortune that came with being a Victor, combined with Lear Macbeth's entire estate, well, the world was Choux's for taking.

So it was decided. Choux Macbeth would volunteer for District One. And she would kill as many as it took to get the peace she always desired.

Amatus Zanetti, 18, District 2

3 years ago

It wasn't easy being Amatus Zanetti.

At the top of the training class, his position was wildly lusted for. He always had to be on his best game, he was not allowed to show weakness.

Not that he had any weakness. He was Amatus Zanetti.

Yet if there was one thing that irritated him more than anything else in this world, it was people who just didn't get that. People who continued to try and show him up. People who couldn't accept the truth.

Renatus Zanetti-Carvus was one of those people.

The two boys had been sparring since childhood. Their respective parents lived in houses close to each other and were seemingly always inviting one another over for dinner. Renatus was enrolled in the Academy, just as Amatus was, so the boy saw more of his cousin than he'd care to.

For years, he just brushed it off. Renatus wouldn't steal the limelight from him. He was just too good.

Yet something was bound to shift, and for Amatus, the shift came just too soon

It was a few days before his fifteenth birthday when his parents rushed out of the house early one morning. They didn't bother to tell Amatus where they were going, and Amatus didn't think to ask. He went to school as normal, followed by training. Everything about his day was normal. He didn't notice that Renatus wasn't at training that day.

It all came crumbling down when he returned home. Renatus was sitting on the couch, his face red, likely from tears. Amatus' parents were standing in front of him, their attention immediately turned to Amatus when he entered.

A few things happened at once. First, he noticed his cousin had been crying. Second, he noticed the large box labeled 'Zanetti-Carvus'. Third, the words that fell out of his parents' mouths sealed it for him.

"Renatus will be living with us, now. Please clean up your old room."

Amatus was furious. Why would they do this to him? He had no problem asking that question of them like Renatus wasn't even there. His mother chastised him. His father demanded he go clean.

"His parents were accused of having rebel ties, Amatus. Stop making this about you!"

He finally left to clean, but not without a lot of complaining on his end. They had no respect for him or his questions.

(How could he become a second-class citizen in his own house? Was he really that replaceable in the eyes of his parents?)

So he cleaned the room. He didn't bother to tell his parents about the floorboard that came loose. Maybe Renatus would step in it and break it. Show his parents what happens when they let a stranger into his house.

No, not a stranger. A stranger would have been kinder. A stranger wouldn't compete with Amatus for the glory he deserved.

The next year was one of the worst of Amatus' life. He poured his heart into training, determined to still have that to win his parents over and make them proud. It worked for a while, especially while Renatus was recovering from the loss of his parents.

There was no trial. Any association with rebels, whether they were true or not, led to instant execution. Even in Two, where loyalty was hardly questioned.

So Renatus, who was once close on Amatus' heels for the volunteer spot, fell behind. When he returned, he was noticeably rusty. But something in him changed. Or snapped. No one knew what it was. But slowly he rose back up in ranking. Soon, he was as well trained as he was before the incident with his parents. And much to Amatus' horror, soon he was in contention for the volunteer slot for the 110th Hunger Games

Amatus couldn't believe it. How could this happen? Who let this happen? There was no explanation for it. It was unprecedented

Amatus was livid. Especially when his parents commented on it.

"You need to stop slacking, Amatus," his father scolded him one day after receiving an update on his status.

"I'm not! I would never," Amatus was disgusted at the accusation

"Maybe you can train with Renatus. He's been doing great," his mother said with a pride that churned Amatus' stomach. With a scowl, Amatus disappeared into his room for the rest of the night.

What the fuck?

Amatus' mind was swirling with emotions. Anger at his parents for their treatment of their only son.

Anger at the Academy for underestimating his potential. Anger at Renatus for causing this turmoil in his life.

Something is going on with him. I'm going to figure out what, Amatus decided

It was decided. Amatus refused to sit around and let others overlook his potential. He would do whatever it took to mitigate the situation. To return the honor of the designated volunteer to himself.

To find a weakness in Renatus Zanetti-Cavus. Surely, he had more than one just waiting to be exploited.

Over the next week, he watched Renatus' movements closely. He learned his cousin's schedule. He was impressed at his discipline, he rarely strayed from his daily routine.

But Amatus knew he would slip up. It was only a matter of when.

Amatus' first break came late one night. Where most of the trainees and trainers had gone home, Renatus didn't. It took Amatus some time to find his sneaky cousin, and when he did, he learned something that helped fill the pieces of the puzzle.

They were in a small training room that had yet to be used in decades. At least, not publicly. Through the dirtied window, Amatus saw Renatus sparring with the Victor of the 92nd Hunger Games, Matteo D'Emilio. He was shocked, yet relieved. This provided an explanation for his rise in skill. For his rise in ranking. With this advantage, Renatus might have well been unstoppable.

After Amatus ensured this was regularly occurring, he started asking around. Apparently that Victor saw Renatus as some sort of 'prodigy. Someone who was destined to win the Games.

It made Amatus sick.

Amatus couldn't let it go on any longer. And when he devised a plan, a plan that would put Amatus back in the top running for the volunteer position.

And make his parents proud of him, once again.

He just had to bide his time until the moment was right.

As the days passed, Amatus patiently waited for the right time. He had carefully calculated this moment in his mind, and he would not let anything screw it up.

It was a Friday night when it went down. Amatus knew Matteo took Fridays off, so Amatus and Renatus were home simultaneously. As planned, Amatus barged into his old room with a vengeance. He demanded Renatus to spar with him, right then and there, to determine who was the stronger of the two.

As he expected, Renatus was taken off guard. He told Amatus to knock it off, but Amatus kept pushing. Renatus stood up, desperate to get the boy out of his room, but there was no arguing against it. The verbal altercation turned physical, and although Renatus was pleading with Amatus to knock it off, the boy wouldn't hear it.

One misstep. That's all it took for the weak floorboard to reveal white paper underneath it. Amatus rushed to grab the paper before Renatus knew what was happening.

He had no idea what was coming.

The papers were letters, and correspondences with known rebel supporters. Names that both Amatus and the Peacekeepers recognized. The same names that threw Renatus' parents in jail.

It didn't matter how much Renatus pleaded his innocence. His parents were arrested and executed as rebel supporters, and the letters were all the Peacekeepers needed to accuse him of the same crime.

Amatus heard him pleading innocent as they dragged him away for execution.

And then there was nothing but silence.

Yet things didn't return to the normalcy Amatus had hoped. Something felt…off to him. It wasn't guilt, he had nothing to be guilty for.

So what could it be?

As he resecured his spot as volunteer, he came to realize what it was. He realized how little he was looking towards his parents for affirmation. His parents, who had just about avoided him ever since Renatus was arrested.

He realized he didn't care. He didn't need anyone to validate him, or his worth.

He was capable of validating himself.

Valerian Ignatia, 18, District 1

13 years ago

Vitali Ignatia was the pride and joy of the Ignatia household, and his parents never shied away from bragging about it.

"Vitali has been doing great in training."

"Vitali's grades are top of his class. We're so proud."

"He's going to win the Hunger Games. Just wait and see."

The way his parents talked, it would be so easy to miss the part of Vitali that was the most important to him. And it wasn't training, or a secret girlfriend or boyfriend. It was Valerian Ignatia, his better half.

(He was the only one that referred to Val as the better twin. Even Val never believed it. But coming from his brother, it meant something.)

And it was a good thing Vitali gave Valerian that reassurance. Sure, his parents discussed enrolling Valerian in training alongside his brother. Two chances at the title of Victor were better than one after all.

(Yet there was a part of Val that knew he was different. A reason why his parents were so nonchalant with him compared to his identical brother.)

It all came to fruition when the boys were only five. They were out in front of their house, running around like they always did. And when Valerian tripped on some loose gravel, he tumbled to the ground with cuts on his knees. Vitali helped him up and encouraged him to keep playing. And he did, for a bit at least.

Except, something was wrong. As he ran, his knees kept bleeding. Shouldn't they have stopped by now? Why were they still bleeding?

He was lightheaded. Dizzy. He might've stumbled backward. Maybe he would have fallen again if Vitali wasn't there to catch him.

Vitali rushed him to their parents, and the four of them rushed to the local doctor.

Valerian doesn't remember much of the encounter. His young age, and lack of understanding of what the adults were talking about made most things go over his head. He remembered his fear. But he also remembered Vitali holding his hand, reminding him it would be okay.

Valerian did know one thing: he was different. The doctor diagnosed him with a rare blood clotting disorder. When he got a cut, his blood would not clot to stop him from bleeding. The doctors stopped his bleeding that day, but they warned the Ignatia family that this was not a kind condition to have, and his life was in serious danger if they didn't restrict his activity.

So that's exactly what he did. He wasn't allowed to run around anymore. He wasn't allowed in any sports or recreational activities. And he sure as hell wasn't allowed to train alongside his brother, like he always wanted to.

Like he always thought he would.

Fortunately for their parents, Vitali did not have the same disorder as his brother. So he was pushed into all the things Valerian was restricted from. The sports and the training and the activity, it was all encouraged for the favorite son.

If Valerian thought he was neglected before, nothing could have prepared him for growing up after his diagnosis. He heard stories and rumors of how some kids in the orphanage were treated by their past parents, and although it was never that bad for him, he can't say he ever felt an overwhelming amount of love or appreciation for anything he did.

But where his parents failed, Vitali didn't. He never lost sight of what was important to him: his brother. Every spare moment he had was spent with Valerian. They spent so many nights laying on the floor together, imagining a future away from their household.

Vitali even brought his training home to his brother. He wanted his brother to be a part of his life. He kept him up to date on survival techniques, and he brought him his assigned readings, and his notes from that day of training. Valerian never picked up a sword, but he took in every word Vitali presented him.

It reminded him that there was someone who cared for him.

"When I win, I want you to live with me," Vit would tell his brother. Although Val wasn't looking forward to seeing his brother go off to the Games, he knew there wasn't another option. His parents didn't give them another option.

As they aged, Vitali's training regime increased tremendously. Considering their parents constantly forgot Valerian also existed, he ended up with a lot of time to do with what he pleased.

(Well, not anything he pleased. Not with his condition.)

But he did find himself drawn to music. He loved listening to the arrangement of the notes, the story told through the emotions it evoked. It was such a powerful tool he could use to express himself.

Too bad he couldn't play to save his life.

There was an old piano in the Ignatia house that belonged to the twins' grandmother that their mother never bothered to get rid of. One day when he thought everyone had left for their respective daily activities, he slipped away to the piano to try it out. As he ran his fingers along the keys, picking up dust in the process, he couldn't help but hate the sound of every note he played.

But no one was home, so he kept trying.

Little did he know, there was someone home. And that someone listened to him play for an hour before Valerian realized he was there.

"Here," his brother said. Valerian's heart jumped, embarrassed that his brother of all people heard his horrible notes.

He jumped up from the bench and let his brother take over. He played a few notes, immediately tuned the instrument, and then went back to playing. And Val heard it again - heard what made him fall in love with the instrument in the first place.

Val had the stories. Vit had the talent. And Val loved spending time with his brother, hearing him play the notes Val so carefully put together. Every day, while he was training, he would add to his sequence. And every day when Vitali returned home, he would play it for his brother.

Life couldn't have been better. He spent time learning from Vitali. He wrote music for Vitali. And he got to listen to Vitali play.

(Val knew deep down that this would never last. That the 110th Hunger Games would come soon enough, and Vitali would be taken away from him. He knew he would have to watch him fight for his life in an arena filled with other kids, some as well trained as him. He knew this, and every day the thought threatened to take over.)

Yet the real Vitali Ignatia never got the chance to volunteer.

It was a late night of studying and talking like the Ignatia brothers were used to doing. They didn't want to wake up their parents, so they lit a candle instead of turning on a lamp.

Each Ignatia has a different story of how that night panned out. The one thing that was consistent was the fire, started by that little candle.

What happened next is when stories get muddled. Vitali and Valerian's parents were the first two to make it out, and when they saw Vitali they cried in relief.

"Where's Valerian?" he asked. When his parents couldn't provide an answer, he didn't hesitate. He ignored his parents yelling behind him, and he walked straight back inside.

The minutes passed like hours as the Ignatia's waited. They just waited. They contemplated going inside themselves, but a collapsing piece of roof always deterred them.

And when someone climbed out of the house, they ran over to help him. He was covered in soot, sweating, and coughing nonstop.

"Vitali, thank god-" his mother began before she got a good look at his face. The face of Valerian.

His parents begged and pleaded for anything about their son. Val's mind was spinning. He couldn't think straight, he could barely walk.

He was their son, too.

The fire ran its course and Vitali Ignatia was nowhere to be seen.

Val's parents were distraught and devastated at losing him. They lost their pride and joy.

They put their eggs in a single basket. So what could they do but rebuild the basket?

They offered Valerian a deal. There was zero chance the Academy would allow Valerian to train and volunteer for the 110th Hunger Games. But there was no reason they would deny Vitali to volunteer. Even if he had lost his identical twin brother.

"Pretend to be Vitali," they told him. "or get out of our house."

Valerian had no choice but to agree. It was his fault Vitali was dead, or at least that's what his parents ingrained in him. It didn't matter that one wrong move he would literally bleed out on the training floor.

What mattered was not ruining Vitali Ignatia's legacy.

And he hoped, deep down, if he could pull this off, he would be worth something to his parents.

And with that - intros are concluded! Thank you Little Knight Mik for Choux, TheWatcheroftheVoid for Amatus, and mykindleisawesome for Valerian!

Next up will be the reaping recap chapter with some subplot, and after that will be the goodbyes! Below is the list of the first round of pre-games POVs, subject to change.

Goodbyes: Ozzy, Reagan, Tamin, Mishra, Hem, and Ronan

Train rides: Astel, Cali, Chaffinch, Aizen, Valerian, Becca

Chariot: Dahlia, Owain, Exa, Amatus, Choux, Mori

First night/first morning: Klara, Davidson, Eleanora, Roman, Bazooka, Vetiver.

I love you all I hope you enjoyed all 24 of these kiddos!

Onto recaps...

peace

~Moose