something something District Seven!

Alora Young, 15

Spring, 115 ADD.

Alora eyed the rapier with scorn, assigning only malice to its metallic gleam. Any other fifteen-year-old would kill to be in her spot, she knew that. She who was about to participate in the Mock Games reserved only for those in their final year of the Academy. She'd be lying if she said she wasn't wholly disinterested for the mocks; the thought of letting loose for a week or so was one she turned to often. Wherever the mocks would be held, she'd be far away from her parents and their critical judgement. There, during them, she could just be her.

The thought of her parents made Alora chew the inside of her cheek. Even though she had little desire to win their affections - them seeing only achievements in training as suitable exchanges for love - Alora couldn't help but try and compete against her sister. Though only thirteen, Macy was every bit as model of a Career as Alora was - if not more. Both were well equipped and the product of the Young Family devotion to the Capitol, yet Alora desired to best her sister to prove her way of thinking was correct. Where Macy blindly followed the teachings of their parents, believing the little nothings they spoke of, that the Capitol truly cared and, through playing their Games, the Districts would be rewarded, Alora believed otherwise. She belonged squarely to the 'old' way of thinking in District Seven; pitying those who were dealt the worst hands in Panem and doubting the prestige of the Capitol.

Alora'd never admit those things to her parents, however, and thus train for the Games she did. She also trained because the 'old' District Seven had been dead for decades. The rebellious spirits reminiscent of the Johanna Masons of old had been stamped out by the new breed of those from Seven - the true breed, to the district proper and the Capitol. Not a single soul in Panem was unaware of how it was those loyal to the Capitol in District Seven that turned the tide against the Mockingjay, allowing the great President Snow to re-establish rule. It was for their victory that District Seven was awarded its own Career Academy. With it came the encroaching Career ideals of victory and volunteering. The rest was history; Alora knew as much, for not even the oldest in Seven dared speak against the way history had coursed - and why would they? Life was surely easier now. Muddied morals, sure, but easier.

As she walked to the rapier, picking it up and analysing its weight in her hand, Alora couldn't help but lambast her ancestors. Both of her sets of grandparents had been among those loyal to the Capitol. Her father's parents had been some of the fiercest warriors - pictures of her grandfather receiving medals from President Snow were in her history textbooks whilst her grandmother had allegedly sewn repairs into the suits of Peacekeepers. Her mother's parents, the Youngs, had been regarded as something of masterminds behind it all. For their duty, they had received a monopoly over some of Seven's lumber, leading her to live the life she did. Alora knew, to a degree, that she had to be grateful - Macy incessantly warbled such sentiments - but she couldn't help but feel the pressure of expectations looming over her. A Young had yet to volunteer for the Hunger Games and, through seniority, she was expected to be the first.

Such expectations only rose with the announcement of her participating in the Mock Games.

Raising her blade against one of the trainers, Alora sighed. As much as she wanted to fight for her way of thinking, how much she hated what Seven had become, she knew it was futile. People in Seven had grown used to the Capitol's favour and were unwilling to give it up. Why starve in righteousness when you could live luxuriously in obliviousness? Alora supposed she'd never find out the answer.

The training was arduous and long. Months of training for the Mock Games had rendered her body sore and ached; unlike those who were eighteen who had the luxury of having a decade in the Academy, she had only seven years to her name. Though some in her class argued that those years didn't count for much and that they were just as capable despite their age, Alora found her body disagreed on the account of how much it hurt. If it wasn't for her parent's expectations of her to volunteer, nor the Academy's seemingly endless belief in her, the likelihood of Alora training for the Hunger Games at all would be low - if not non-existent. She sighed to herself as she watched Macy from across the gymnasium conversing with some of her friends.

Let her have all the glory. The thought was sardonic, accompanied with a slight eye-roll. She wants it anyway.

Slinging the small backpack she always brought with her to the Academy over her shoulder, Alora moved to make way to the boulevard before being stopped by a figure. Used to the older trainees throwing their weight around, she opened her mouth to say something before registering who the figure was.

"Miss Young." The visage of Nerine Calanthe, District Seven's inaugural Career Victor and Head of the Academy, smiled tersely down at her. In that moment, Alora remembered starkly why the Capitol called her 'The Great Oak of Seven.' "May we discuss something in my office?"

The young trainee nodded before following the woman, cursing herself for no doubt having a soured expression on her face prior. Although Alora had no real internal desire to please those loyal to the Capitol, she knew better than to anger the Victor.

Nerine Calanthe's office, like it had been the previous time Alora had been there, was immaculate. Reminiscent of a log cabin yet modern enough to look plucked from the Capitol, it was something of a marvel. The woman's thirteen Victor crowns that she had been gifted by the Districts were hung behind the plush chair. The Capitol given fourteenth that she was crowned in, no doubt, was hung proudly in her home. Alora had heard most Victors did that.

As she sunk into a chair, Alora couldn't help but feel intimidated. This was what they all trained for - the glory of the Hunger Games. Even someone with less loyalties like herself could see that - or, perhaps, that was the installed Career belief within her talking. The very same belief she would had to hone and display constantly when she, presumably, went to the Capitol herself.

"Miss Young, from myself and the other trainers at the Academy, I must say we are very impressed." Nerine's words were carefully chosen and spoken meticulously. It was of little wonder why she was often brought to speak during the Games season. "We'd like to propose a first, seeing as you appear capable enough."

Alora cocked her head, eyebrows furrowing slightly. What was she on about? "A... first, ma'am?"

The woman's smile curled with mirth as she leant back in her chair. "We - or should I say I - am offering you a fighting spot in this year's Selection Tournament, irrespective of where you come in the Spring Mocks. A first befitting of an exceptional trainee."

Thomas 'Tommy' Oak, 18

Spring, 115 ADD.

Thomas stared up at the Death Oak before him. Though not as large as those that surrounded it in the forest, it was still grand and magnificent its own right. He marvelled at its size; his mother had only been passed four years and yet the oak that commemorated her was plenty large. Part of him knew that the surprise was misplaced - part of District Seven's reward for choosing loyalty over unrest was funding by the Capitol towards their burial rites. Gone was the age of waiting decades for a deceased loved one's oak to grow strong and tall, replaced by fertilizer from the Capitol that stimulated growth. Keepers, the Capitol had also developed a gold barked variant of the Death Oak, befitting for the district's volunteers. Thomas smiled to himself, knowing the pride of Seven possessing both black death forests and the golden tribute equivalent was something shown annually at the reaping.

Wrapping his arms around the trunk of the tree, Thomas tried to link his hands at the other side. Unlike last year where he had managed to with some difficulty, this year only the tips of his fingers could splay against each other. He let out a sigh as he recoiled slightly at the way the bark dug into his cheek. The first two years, when the tree was young and new, he had been able to hug it with ease. Transferring the love he'd never be able to give to his mother was doable. Now, and presumably from that year onwards, it would prove to be a more difficult affair. Thomas sighed, choosing to instead take a step back and pressing a single palm against the cold wood. As much as he loved the trees his district bore, their cooled wood could never replace the warmth of a body.

Of course, he knew he wasn't the only one in his place. Discounting his siblings Killian and Grace, many others across Seven felt the same things. His mother's death oak was only one in a large section of the district's greatest death forest. The section, named 'The Decade Blight' after the illness that swept the district, housed many death oaks that had been planted too prematurely. His mother, like many of those whose ashes had been interred with the soil and seeds of the oaks, had perished before her time and, left in her wake, a family who was still unable to move past it completely.

The early morning chill that ran through the forest brought Thomas back to his thoughts. Today was the day that the Academy announced who would be participating in the Selection Tournament. He allowed himself a prideful smile as he straightened his back, imagining his mother was commending him on being the Victor of the Spring Mocks only a month ago. Whereas his father worried that volunteering was a glorified sentence or death, Tommy knew that his mother would have found some pride to be taken in the achievement.

Glancing down at his watch and noticing the time, Tommy quickly gave his mother's death oak one last squeeze before picking up a paced jog to the Academy.

He knew that being late would be unforgiveable; as the Spring Mocks' Victor, it was a near guarantee he would be given the blessing to participate in the Selection Tournament. If he were to miss out on that opportunity because he was late? Tommy wasn't sure his siblings would let him hear the end of it, not after he drilled punctuality into them.

...

"It's about time you showed up." Killian's voice was heard before he came into view.

By the time Tommy had entered the Academy, the training floor was bustling and teeming with life. From eighteen-year-olds who were excited to hear who would be permitted to put their name forward in the Selection Tournament to the ten-year-olds who continued to devour the experience of their first year at the Academy. It was the very atmosphere that Tommy, like many, had come to love; it being one of the reasons he hoped he could win, all so he could immerse himself in it for the rest of his life.

"Just took my time, y'know?" Tommy quipped back, flashing his brother a smile. He didn't need to mention where he was; both of them and Grace had made several stops over the past few days to their mother's death oak, all seeking luck for Tommy. "Don't gotta rush things when you won the mocks."

Killian blew air out of his nose as he pushed himself off the pillar he had been leaning against, uncrossed hands revealing a small sword that he handed to Tommy. "Glad you think so. Nerine's been running around looking for you - told her you were in the dorms."

Tommy gave his brother an appreciative smirk as he took the sword from him. He glanced at it for a second before raising an eyebrow. "Fancy a spar?"

His brother nodded, his own smirk finding its way onto his features. "Who else is gonna whip you into fighting shape?"

Alora Young, 15

Reaping Day, July 4, 115 ADD.

The fateful meeting Alora had with Nerine ran through her head as she shuffled through the crowd. Neither back then nor now did she think that she would stand as the designated female volunteer for the district. She wasn't supposed to have come third - there were measures that were created once to prevent it. Yet, as she had her attendance logged, Alora knew that she'd only ever see the square again if she came back a Victor.

Wandering down towards the area cordoned off for the fifteen-year-olds, Alora wondered if the pit that formed in her stomach was unique to her or if every designated volunteer felt it. Though she wanted to believe the latter in a weak attempt to pacify her worries she knew, likely, it was just her alone. Her volunteer partner, Tommy, didn't seem to possess a single ounce of fear within him. In fact, he had been rather jovial at being the district partner to a historic tribute.

She gritted her teeth at the glorified title everyone had given her - historic tribute. Everyone around her said it so much as if it were some sort of regalia; as if that alone would see her back to Seven. Alora found it irritating that even if she didn't necessarily want to train for the Hunger Games, the fact she did and it seemed to be overlooked in lieu of some 'historic first' was something appalling. She knew that Nerine saw her work ethic and determination, the Victor had said as much when she beat all the eighteen-year-old girls at the Selection Tournament. Everyone else, however, looked passed that.

Alora especially hated how, since the tournament, she had become her parents' favourite child.

"Our historic Alora!" They would say, beaming from ear to ear as they showed her off as if they were the Masters of Ceremonies themselves, blissfully unaware that her misgivings towards training had been better utilised in the dream - the one utter goal - to free herself from them.

Even now, as she stood in her place and looked to the stage, she let herself smile as she imagined her coming home and disavowing herself from them. Perhaps it'll all be worth it.

The escort for District Seven, Hesperos, was the newest to the esteemed line-up of Career Escorts - or Carescorts, as they called themselves on Capitoline television. Like many of those who brought tributes to and from the Capitol, he had begun his profession at the age of sixteen, escorting for District Eleven. Alora vaguely remembered how he commanded attention even then with his suave demeanour and endless one-liners. Apparently, according to Nerine, it had been a scandal when he took over his retiring father's position as escort for Seven, quelled only with promises that he would move on after five years. The announcement to the Academy had been one of endearment, many of the older girls eager to try and secure the volunteer spot to try and woo the young man.

Alora, as she had done then, simply scoffed and rolled her eyes.

Though even she could see the appeal of living in the Capitol as a citizen, she abhorred the idea of abandoning so many basic values of morality and dignity. Being a Career trainee didn't take those things away from her, she could rightfully claim that she had been forced into training, but living in the Capitol meant signing away all of those things in order to see the Hunger Games in an even more perturbed sense of glory than One, Two, Four and Seven combined. From the way that Hesperos seemed to wear the same impish grin he did every year, Alora doubted it was a hard thing to rid oneself of.

The spiel about the Dark Days and the Second Rebellion that came nearly a century after never failed to bore Alora. Those around her stared at the screen with intent, clutching onto each word as if they hadn't heard it before and wouldn't hear it again. To them, it was all gospel - undisputable truth that the District Seven that stood at that moment was the true Seven. Why revere Johanna Mason, ally to the Mockingjay, when Nerine Calanthe, first Career Victor of Seven could be honoured instead? Alora suspected the latter knew that was how most thought; she always dressed like a queen on reaping day.

Alora allowed herself to get lost in the repetition and procedure of the reaping ceremony, just as she had done the past few years. It was all the same; wait for the videos to cease their playtime, listen to Hesperos pander to the Victors that Seven held high and, then, wait for the scripted and practiced volunteering to begin. Though she had to be nudged by the girl next to her, Alora began to call her name to volunteer - something she had only done in the past to mock the girls older than her who seemed to want nothing more than to chance their lives.

The way Hesperos grinned as he pointed at her was chilling, temporarily seizing her muscles before she forced herself to walk. It was a stark reminder that though her family name meant something in Seven, to the Capitol she was just another Career. A young one, at that. If Hesperos' face that no doubt would find its way into her nightmares didn't tell her that, then Alora was sure the way that the Peacekeepers nudged her with little regard cemented it.

She offered a smile to the escort, ignoring all the primal urges that encouraged her to run. She was glad that, up close, the garish makeup didn't exaggerate the man's features too much - though it still took her a mental reminder to let him take her hand.

"Our female tribute, Alora Young!"

Thomas 'Tommy' Oak, 18

Reaping Day, July 4, 115 ADD.

Even though he had spent the past few months with Alora, standing as the designated volunteers for Seven, Tommy couldn't help but notice how small she looked standing next to the escort. Sure she had the unmistakable presence of a Career and her healthy athletic build aged her fairly, she looked young. He pursed his lips as his mind wandered to how the other Careers would react. Would they see the potential everyone in Seven saw? Or would they designate the honorary position of 'First Dead Career' to her?

Tommy shuddered, not quite ready to completely disassociate designated volunteer and something of a friend Alora with tribute Alora, who he'd have to kill to elevate Seven further in the ranks of Careerhood. That could come later. For now, he made sure to smile at her in case she looked to him for some form of comfort.

It was clear that Hesperos was bemused by the choice of female tribute; the way his lips curled slightly with an upturned eyebrow gave away whatever he wouldn't say. Whether it was bad or good, Tommy knew that he'd be privy to it soon enough - everyone else would need to wait until the post-Games interviews. Optimistically, he believed that any form of interest was good - that was, after all, what they were taught at the Academy - and that it would be used to District Seven's benefit.

The escort, in all his bravado, turned and presented Alora to Seven one last time.

"And now, for the gentlemen!"

Hesperos had inherited much of his mannerisms from his father, so much so that if he were to close his eyes, Tommy wouldn't be able to tell the difference between the two. Not that he'd particularly want to; Hesperos was only the vessel to the Capitol, after all. Focusing too much on him would take his eyes away from the main prize.

Only a few moments had passed before Hesperos had chosen the name of a random kid and Tommy was raising his hand and declaring his intent to volunteer - not that he particularly needed to. The volunteering process was one of the first things that Seven had perfected upon becoming a Career District. Learning from the mistakes and the poor viewing of District Four, the people of Seven replicated the finesse from One and Two's reaping and sought to show the rest of Panem just how serious they were in their newly inducted role.

As far as Tommy could tell as a member of Seven's Academy, the intended effect had been perfectly grown over the past thirty or so years.

He let those thoughts encourage a smile; he was proud to be of Seven, the district that had put the work in and cultivated its own destiny. It, unlike a certain coal district, didn't need a false idol to promise something that they couldn't achieve. Instead, the people of Seven proved that loyalty and hard work were all the people of Panem needed to reap the rewards - and rewarded had Seven been. Nerine had often mentioned that it sounded like District Four was due to be outcasted at any moment from the Career Alliance.

As he took his place on the other side of Hesperos after being summoned with the clockwork mechanics people had come to expect of Seven, Tommy couldn't help but believe that it was deserved. Who knew - perhaps he'd even take out the Four Careers first? That thought was sardonic as he smiled to his district.

District Seven deserved another glorious win and who better to bring it to them than he himself?

Talk From The Capitol:

[DistrictSevenApologist] a 15 y/o? oh she better be SPECIAL for seven to send her out! she'll eat!

[TommyOak4TheWin] omg... did anyone else see how CUTE tommy looked? major hottie! x

Our final Career District done - as well as our penultimate reaping!

We've only got District Three and then we're onto the good stuff! I suspect updates will get faster then as bouncing around PoVs is where my writing tends to shine the most!

I've not got much to say - other than thank-you to n3b and Finnick18 for Alora and Tommy respectively! Both are some amazingly fun characters and I'm excited to see how they interact with those around them.

As always, reviews are super appreciated!

~ Oli