Hello everyone and welcome to the tenth and final Reaping chapter for TCOA! I'm super excited to get to introduce the last few of these tributes to you guys, and I hope you're excited as well! Let's get into it!
Naymena Lachlock, 18
District Four Female
Naymena awoke to the sound of the wind whistling against the walls of the cottage. It was common for this time of year, especially with the cottage being located as close as it was to the beach.
Four was often struck by summer storms, bringing with them humid winds and heavy rains. Her favorite part of it; however, was the fact that she got to call off work as an excuse sometimes. Although it didn't happen very often, some of these storms could get so bad that her boss had no choice but to let her have the day off. It was just too dangerous to venture out in the pouring rain and blistering wind all the time, especially during the heaviest of the storm season.
Work was enjoyable, she got to do it alone, but it was also brutal physical labor for hours on end. She was used to it for the most part, but each day brought different situations and conditions. The ships she unloaded and occasionally dismantled were often rusty so there was a bit of a risk involved with that.
She figured it was about time to get going, needing to get ready in time to make it to the center of town with a few minutes to spare. Those few spare minutes would be spent waiting in the long check in line, she could already predict it.
Moving her legs until they rested on the side of the bed, Naymena yawned as she scooted up on the bed and stood up. Now she would go and bathe, then get ready for the morning. She needed to look presentable, although she wasn't going to be all fancy like some of the other kids her age. Naymena just wasn't one for formal attire, it didn't let her move around easily, which was a downside that could easily get you injured in the seedier parts of the district. It also didn't help that it identified you as a good target to attack for money.
Making her way to the small bathroom attached to the larger of the two bedrooms in the cottage, Naymena got herself prepared to take a shower. She placed the soaps she needed on the little shelf built into the shower wall and set a towel on the counter containing the sink. Her clothes would remain in the bedroom, she could make the short trip back with her towel wrapped around her body.
Turning the water on, Naymena watched as it flowed from the shower head. The water in the old cottage generally didn't go either way, hot or cold, past a certain range of temperature. She'd learned to get used to it, the weather often dictated how hot the water got as well. In the summer, it was warmer than it got in the winter. No insulated pipes were installed this close to the beach.
Naymena stepped into the shower, avoiding getting her hair wet. She'd just washed it the other day, so there wasn't a need to dampen it while it was still somewhat fresh. Besides, it would take too long to dry before the Reaping anyway. Scrubbing her body with the washcloth she'd also placed in the little wall niche, she let the soap bubbles sluice off her body when she was done.
Her showers were mostly a quick ordeal, unless she was washing her hair, so she was out and toweling off pretty soon after she'd gotten in. She wrapped the towel around herself once she'd finished drying her body off, heading off towards the bedroom to don her clothes for the morning.
Walking through the doorway, Naymena pulled open the drawer containing her pants and selected a particularly formal, yet comfortable looking pair. They were a gray color, so they would go with a lot of her nicer looking shirts. Next, she opened the drawer containing those nice shirts and selected a white one, confident that it would match well with her pants.
She pulled both items on after she'd donned her undergarments and glanced at her appearance in the foggy mirror that hung across from her bed. It would suit the occasion well enough, yet she could still defend herself and move around if necessary.
It was debatable if she was going to consume anything beforehand, but the likely answer was no. She wasn't a fan of eating in the morning if she didn't absolutely have to, the only exception to this was if she had a shift starting in the morning. So many bad things could happen if one didn't fuel themself before such difficult labor. Naymena never made the mistake of not doing such, it was just yet another opportunity for the so called curse to but its head back into her life, but she was determined not to let it.
The curse wasn't about to take her too. She would find a way to make it leave her alone; she wasn't about to become a copy of her mother and experience the same end that she did. Giving up wasn't something that Naymena did, although she wasn't one to put everything into just one thing.
Volunteering for the Games was another way to combat the Lachlock curse, she was in control of what she planned to do. Sure, there was a chance that she could be claimed by it in the Games, but it was better than just letting it influence the rest of her lousy life in Four. It had already taken away every family member she'd known, there wasn't much else it could do.
Naymena was the last of her family left, and in truth, she was lonely. There was nobody that would tell her goodnight, nobody that she wanted to talk to about her day.
She shook her head, ridding her mind of the lonely thoughts and instead focusing on what the morning would bring. The spotlight would soon be on her, and even if she was going to hate every second of it, she needed to use it to her advantage. Every person that liked her, every sponsor that was intrigued in her, would bring her one step closer to beating that dreadful curse.
Once she was finished getting ready and putting herself in the best mindset possible, Naymena made her way to the front room. The front door was right across from where she was standing, and she knew it was about time to leave. She was going to do great, she would only have to be around that huge crowd of people for like an hour, she told herself.
Making her way to the tram stop nearest the cottage, Naymena stopped a few feet away from the covered bench. She wasn't about to put herself in a spot with a bunch of people crowded around her for longer than absolutely necessary.
Luckily for her, only a few minutes after having arrived, the tram slowed to a stop in front of the little covered area. She was one of the last to board, not wanting to shove herself through the crowd to get on first. Patience was indeed a virtue reserved for those that knew their own boundaries and respect for others trying to do the same thing as them. Training had taught her that and she wasn't about to change her ways now, especially right before her moment to prove herself.
Boarding last had a few downsides though. There weren't any seats left when she reached the top of the few stairs she had to climb to board. There were a few little straps for the standing passengers to hang onto, so Naymena made her way to the pole with the fewest people gathered around it. Thankfully it wasn't too long of a ride, living on the shore nearest the center of town.
The little bell that signified that they were arriving at their stop tinkled lightly and Naymena let out a quiet sigh of relief. Finally some fresh air after being cooped up in a bus full of people for a little over a quarter of an hour.
She was in the middle of the line of people to get off, and she made contact with the pavement with a heavy step. Moving quickly out of the way of the still flowing crowd exiting the tram, Naymena took her opportunity to cross the street towards the square where the Reaping would soon take place.
Might as well go ahead and get it over with, she thought. She'd only left with about fifteen minutes to spare anyway. Heading over towards the steadily growing check in line, Naymena entered at the back and prayed that it wouldn't take too long before it was her turn to have her finger pricked.
Much to Naymena's misfortune, the line took even longer than the tram ride to the square. It felt as if years had passed by before the registration table was within her sight. Soon after that, it was her turn to be prodded with the familiar needle pen that the woman had held to her finger every year since she was twelve.
Already knowing the drill, Naymena held out her hand, palm up and her index finger pointed out so that it would make the process that much easier and quicker. The woman pricked her finger with the same roughness that Naymena could recall experiencing last year, but it was over quicker than she remembered. Thank goodness for the memorable experiences, she supposed.
Upon being shooed off, Naymena made her way into the center aisle of the square, which separated the boys and the girls to make it easier to both identify those reaped and those that would volunteer.
She made her way over to the section that she was meant to be in, which happened to be at the front of all of the other ones. They were always like this. The older you were, the closer you were to the front of the square and the stage.
Naymena was quite thankful for her somewhat late start to getting to the Reaping when it began after what seemed like only moments of standing in her spot. The blue haired escort definitely had on an interesting outfit, it was quite funny to watch it move as she scurried across the stage to the microphone. Naymena's only guess as to what it was consisted of the thought of a pile of wet seaweed. What a ridiculous thing to wear, she personally wouldn't be caught dead in the thing.
The escort presented the infamous Reaping video with a squeaky exclamation and then tittered off back towards her seat for the duration of it. This could honestly be the part that Naymena hated the most. She felt that boxed in feeling because she was surrounded by a densely packed crowd, and she usually started going out of her mind in boredom out of the fact that she had already seen the video over half a dozen times. They couldn't even update it every few years?
At the sound of the ending music, Naymena breathed out yet another sigh of relief. She'd be letting out a lot of those today, she predicted. It was finally time for her moment, but Naymena wasn't sure that she was exactly ready for the influx of attention. Oh well, it was going to happen anyway.
The escort skittered over towards the girls' bowl excitedly and quickly reached in and selected a name. Everyone knew that it wasn't going to matter whose name was on it, but the escort really didn't seem to care. The name was read aloud as soon as the escort reached the microphone and Naymena shouted that fated sentence that launched her into everyone's attention.
"I volunteer as tribute!"
The escort clapped her hands in delight as Naymena made her way to the stage. Now the curse wasn't in control, Naymena was. And she was going to run with it.
Goneril Albion, 18
District Two Female
Goneril was grinning like a cat as she rose elegantly out of her bed. Today was going to be the most spectacular day of her life so far. She'd get to have all those eyes on her, some envious of her looks and skill and some admiring her and rooting for her to win the Games. It was going to be just spectacular.
But first, she needed to make her appearance all the more appealing. Nobody wanted to see her bed head when she walked up on the stage after volunteering. It just wasn't the thing to do if you wanted support from anyone in Two at all.
Padding gently across the hardwood floor of her rather spacious bedroom, Goneril made her way over to her closet. She was intending to pick something out that would make her wow the crowd after volunteering. Goneril noticed the perfect item of clothing only a few seconds after she had begun the search: a stunning pink dress that was glittery and slightly form fitting. Yes, this would do indeed.
She grabbed a fresh pair of undergarments from the drawer that contained them and then grabbed her selected dress. Goneril was planning on taking a shower beforehand, so she could be as fresh looking as possible. Hygiene was extremely important, it was almost half of your image. No volunteer would be caught dead with greasy hair or unshaven body hair. That would be taken care of by her shower this morning.
Almost skipping her way to her bathroom, which was attached to her bedroom, Goneril flipped on the light switch and set her clothes down on the little bench outside of her shower. Next, she grabbed a washcloth out of the cute little bin that they were in and tossed it onto the bench in the shower. Now all she had to do was wait for the water to heat up and then she would get in.
The wait flew by and soon the water flowing out of the shower head was at a scorching temperature, exactly how Goneril liked it. She would turn it down when rinsing her hair, hot water really wasn't good for keeping up with her luscious brown locks of hair. The steam felt amazing on her skin though.
Stepping into the steamy shower, Goneril closed the glass door behind her. She just stood there for a moment, letting the burning hot water flow over her body and warm her up all over. Afterwards, she turned the temperature knob down so that she could actually begin cleaning her hair and body.
She scrubbed her scalp with shampoo until she was satisfied with the amount of suds built up and backed up under the stream of water, washing the soapy bubbles out of her hair. Then, she ran conditioner through the ends of her hair, never her scalp, that would cause build up and her hair would become greasier a whole lot more quickly. After that was done, Goneril grabbed her washcloth and pumped some body wash into it. She lathered it up between her hands and then took to scrubbing her body. She'd already shaven all of her body hair last night during her shower after training, so this was the second to last thing she had to do.
Once she'd finished scrubbing her body and washing the suds off, Goneril took her shower hairbrush and brushed out all of the conditioner at the tips of her hair. Finishing up with that, she stepped out of the shower and grabbed her towel off the hook it stayed on when it wasn't needed.
Patting her body dry gently, Goneril wrapped her towel around her after she was satisfied with how dry she'd gotten herself. She grabbed the microfiber towel for her hair and wrapped the strands up in it while staring at the process in her large bathroom mirror. She'd dry it once she put on her undergarments.
Grabbing said items of clothing, Goneril put them on quickly and then dug through her cabinet until she found her hairdryer. She plugged it in and then undid the microfiber towel around her hair. It had soaked up about half of the water, but this would finish the job.
It was around another ten minutes later before Goneril was satisfied with her work using the hairdryer, then choosing to brush her hair out and leaving it alone after that. Next, she grabbed her dress from where it was sitting on the bench beside her and exited the bathroom and went back into her bedroom. Goneril unzipped it and then pulled it on, smirking at her reflection in the mirror. She zipped it up and then headed back to her closet to pick out a pair of shoes. A pair of silver low-heeled shoes were selected and those were pulled on as well.
Time to make her way downstairs and hope she'd made it in enough time that her brothers hadn't eaten all of the food. Goneril headed out to the hallway and made her descent down the stairs, ending up at the bottom in less than a minute.
Exactly like she'd hoped against, her brothers had indeed eaten all of the food her parents had prepared while she was getting ready. Goneril wasn't mad; maybe this was a good thing. It would prevent her from bloating any more and her dress showing it.
She caught a glimpse of her mother to her left, her father presumably off doing some land deal or something.
"Goneril, honey, your brothers are already in the car. You might want to go join them. It wouldn't look very good for you to be late this year," her mother stated in her angelic voice.
Goneril replied with a sincere smile, "Yes, thank you for informing me, Mother. I won't let you or Father down."
Her mother smiled in response, and Goneril was glad to receive such a positive reply. It always helped to reassure her parents that they were doing well in their parenting.
She then made her way out of the door, heading towards the running car that was sitting in the driveway. Opening the back door on the right side, Goneril took a seat next to Cassio, her middle brother. He was a year younger, but was just as sharp as Goneril and their older brother, Iago. The youngest, Iachimo, still had some learning to do, but he was also several years younger than all of them.
Her brothers were the absolute best, and all four had an amazing relationship with each other. They were all close and this was never going to change. Everyone backed everybody up, it was the epitome of a familial relationship in Two.
The car began to move as soon as Goneril clicked her seatbelt in, and they were now all on their way to the Reaping. Iago was a year out of eligibility, but the other three were all eligible and would be registering together.
Then came the hyping up of Goneril for her plan to volunteer.
"And we have a future volunteer in the house!"
"Future volunteer? More like future victor!"
"Oh yeah! I'm gonna be related to Two's most recent victor after this year!"
She smiled to herself and shook her head. These knuckleheads loved attention just as much as Goneril herself, if not more.
Their home was very close to the town square, with their parents' wealth affording them a beautiful house in one of Two's most desired neighborhoods to live in. It was easy to get to places from, and it was extremely close to the center of town as well.
The five minute ride was extremely short, and the driver let them out right at the entrance of the square. The attendance check in line was already forming steadily, so Goneril and her two younger brothers quickly made their way over in that direction. Iago split off and went the other way, intending on getting a good spot to witness the start of his sister's soon to be glory.
The trio joined the end of the line, which happened to be pretty short for what time it was. Maybe a lot of people aged out last year, Goneril guessed. They reached the front after a short wait and the boys let Goneril go first. Such manners had been a crucial lesson in their household, along with the fact that Goneril was pretty much the designated leader of the group of siblings. She appreciated their respect, and such respect was returned to them.
The woman was gentler with pricking her finger than what Goneril remembered from last year. Perhaps she was new or she had heard of Goneril's status for the Reaping this year. She was soon sent on her way, but beyond the little barrier, she waited on her brothers. They joined her a few moments after and offered her their luck and support.
Goneril then made her way to her section, offering a little wave of her hand to her brothers as they made their way to their sections as well. Upon entering the section she belonged in, she was barraged by an assortment of squeals. It was just Astoria and Navette.
They could give her brothers a run for their money in terms of excitement for Goneril, that was for sure. Goneril giggled to herself as the pair bounced on their toes excitedly, glad for the early attention. This behavior continued for at least ten minutes, until everyone's attention was called to the middle of the stage.
The purple themed outfit of the escort reminded Goneril of the beautiful lavender dress that she'd received a few years prior for her birthday. Purple was a lovely color.
"Welcome everyone to the Reaping for the 80th Annual Hunger Games! I know you're all excited to see our tributes for this year, but first we've got to watch our little film."
Goneril actually didn't mind watching that video over and over again. She thought it was a great way to educate the younger kids in Two and get more that wanted to train to be a volunteer and have a chance at the ultimate glory that winning the Games provided. It was short anyway, likely to prevent people's attention spans from distracting them.
Upon the conclusion of the video, Goneril's heart rate started to increase and she put that big wide smile on her face in preparation for what was about to happen. It was almost time for her moment in the spotlight.
The escort took her sweet time walking over to the girls' bowl and picking a name, which made Goneril a bit impatient. She understood why the escort was doing it though, to increase the suspense and entertainment.
"The female tribute for this year's Hunger Games is Alina Padme!"
Goneril took her sweet time stepping out into the center aisle, just helping the escort do her job of making the Capitol entertained.
"I volunteer as tribute!"
Her confident smile was unfaltering as she made her way up to the stage. The attention was addicting. She spotted all of her biggest supporters in the crowd: her brothers, her entourage of friends, her mother, and blew them a kiss. She'd earn the glory she thirsted for, and they'd love it too.
Ruga Palaemor, 18
District Two Male
Ruga giggled to himself as he finished concocting his latest creation. A poison that could stop function of the lungs slowly over time, surely that would work wonders for if he had someone get in his way of his dream position.
Just because there was technically no Grand Inquisitor of the Peacekeeping Force on paper didn't mean that it would never exist. When Ruga got a chance in the spotlight, that's what he would use his influence to create, just for himself. He had all of the skills for it, plus the dedication. Not many people could say that they would be loyal enough to the Capitol to murder any rebels they came across.
That in itself should have already been enough to get him in a position like that, but no, he needed to prove himself first. Had those who rejected him proven their dedication and skills to the Capitol? Just because he wasn't part of a rich family didn't mean that he had less worth than rich kids.
His mother had taught him what she knew about being an apothecary, poison and sedatives included, but Ruga considered dabbling in such a hobby. He had many hobbies, another of which was taking out the competition little by little. Sometimes they got to live another day, sometimes they didn't. Ruga's reward was the volunteer slot, having been the best of the oldest eligible boys left after his tampering.
After he finished cleaning up, Ruga made his way back upstairs to get ready for the Reaping. It was the most anticipated day of the year in Two, and for good reason. The finest of Two's trained teenagers were chosen in advance to represent the district, and they usually represented pretty well. It was up to Ruga to make sure that he proved to everyone that he wasn't one to be taken lightly.
Reaching his room, Ruga entered the space and went ahead on over to the well-worn wooden dresser that contained all of his clothes. The little apartment that he and his mother lived in above the apothecary shop could be a little cramped at times, so Ruga was often found working in the open space of the basement or plotting something in a hidden spot outside. He needed room for his genius to work.
Grabbing a random, nice looking set of clothes out of a drawer, Ruga tossed them onto his bed and went into the little bathroom to yank a brush through his hair and apply some more deodorant. His hair complied with him rather easily, only requiring a few passes of his hairbrush. He then grabbed the little tube of deodorant that his mother had specially crafted for him, she was excellent at brewing up things that helped and harmed. It worked particularly well, way better at preventing body odor than the version that the Academy provided in their bathrooms.
After he'd swiped that on, Ruga turned on the sink. Taking the water flowing out of the faucet, he splashed a bit on his face, not caring if any got on his clothes or not. He grabbed one of the few towels in the bathroom and dried his face with it afterwards.
Heading back into his bedroom, Ruga changed from his working clothes, which were splattered with a variety of ingredients found in his mother's shop, to the nicer, clean set of clothes laying on his bed. The shirt and pants went together just fine, it wouldn't matter anyways. Boys really didn't have many standards involving clothing that needed to be held up. It just mattered that they didn't look as if you wore the same set of clothes everyday or if it was clean and free of wear and tear.
Satisfied enough, Ruga went back downstairs to the main floor, where the exit to the outside was. There was nobody there to say goodbye to him; his mother was probably still passed out in her own bed from the long day she'd worked yesterday. Ruga had heard about it from her, but had ultimately been somewhere else (paying a not so nice visit to one of his competitors for the volunteer spot).
He stepped out of the door, the bell above it ringing softly, and started on his way to the location of the Reaping. It was in the town square, as always, which was a little ways away from the shop since they couldn't afford a spot in or near one of the rich neighborhoods near the center of town.
His walk took around fifteen minutes, taking him along the now bustling sidewalks of the middle of town. Everyone was just so excited to see Two's contenders for the Games this year. Ruga chuckled under his breath, loving the fact that nobody realized the soon-to-be celebrity walking among them. They would give him their attention soon enough, he told himself. Then he would prove to everyone who'd thought that they were better than him that they were wrong.
Reaching the check in line soon enough, Ruga entered the start of the queue. He was already ready to volunteer for his slot to have some fun with the rest of the tributes. No, he told himself, patience was the virtue that got anyone who wanted something what they wanted. He just needed to slow his mind down a little bit.
It was only about ten minutes before he reached the front of the line, holding his right index finger out eagerly to the woman checking people in. She pricked it with her little needle pen thing, and Ruga smiled, enjoying the sight of blood and the feeling of that sharp little pain.
Sent towards the sections of kids already waiting, Ruga stuck his pricked finger in his mouth to get it to stop bleeding, the coppery taste of blood blooming across his tongue. He walked on towards the section of boys at the front, his age group. It wouldn't be long before he would be barging out of this crowd and declaring himself the volunteer for the Games this year.
Everyone had to wait for another fifteen agonizing minutes before purple-clothed escort started the ceremony with a rather annoying statement.
"Welcome everyone to the Reaping for the 80th Annual Hunger Games! I know you're all excited to see our tributes for this year, but first we've got to watch our little film."
God, he hated that video. It was just another way for the Capitol to waste time in order to provide suspense for themselves. Had they ever even considered that the selected volunteers were very eager to get their moment in the spotlight and didn't want to waste any more time before then?
Thank goodness it was pretty short, albeit it still wasted several minutes of his important time. Someone really needed to change how they did the Reaping. And of course, the girls just had to go first. Great, even more time to wait.
"The female tribute for this year's Hunger Games is Alina Padme!"
Some girl stepped out of the eighteen year old section and took her sweet time to say the four words that she needed to. She must have felt so fantastic delaying Ruga's spotlight even longer.
"I volunteer as tribute!"
Ruga rolled his eyes at her theatrics, sure it might have been in order to appeal to the Capitol citizens, but it was still extremely annoying.
Finally, it was just about time to shout those four words a whole lot faster than his district partner had. The escort approached the microphone after taking a trip to the boys' bowl and back and read out an unimportant name.
"The male tribute for this year's Hunger Games is Arlo Emmy!"
Quickly, Ruga emerged from the crowd and shouted, "I volunteer as tribute!"
Smirking as he made the short trip up to the stage, Ruga absorbed the cheers like a snake absorbed heat from the sun. He was going to get the attention of the whole country during the Games this year, he was going to lead the Career Pack this year, and he was going to win this year.
And now we're officially done introducing our tributes! I'm super excited to get to write all of these amazing kids and I feel honored that each and every one of you that submitted chose to send a tribute or two my way! With that, I have some questions to ask.
1. Who is your favorite tribute?
2. Who do you think is going to go the farthest?
3. What are your predicted alliances and who all is in them?
I'm also really excited to be getting into the Pregames now! I'm planning on each tribute having around two POVs, but that could change. Thank you guys so much for reading and a special thanks to Paradigm of Writing for Naymena and LC-it-gets-better-alt-account for Goneril and Ruga!