There was something rather exhilarating about being near the beginning. It meant that she could not think about the nerves and the butterflies that were fluttering around her stomach. She would not let them overwhelm her. If there was anything that Cameo could be now in these moments, it was calm and level headed. She needed to keep her mind on what she was to do for the gamemakers, which had been quite the struggle. She had to show her intelligence. But how? She wanted to tie in the weapons prowess she had, but she only had fifteen minutes and besides getting in there and just reciting bits of trivia she knew, she knew it wouldn’t earn her a high score. She inhaled deeply and exhaled as the automated voice said her name and she took the steps forward to her fate.
She came in, her eyes quickly scanning the area before turning her attention to the gamemakers and flashing them an oh so innocent smile. “Cameo Whelan District One.” She stated before fixating back on the station before her. She reminding herself not to worry about the people in the background, that she just focus on herself and not on whether she was disappointing them. She closed her eyes for a second and felt as if she was the only person in that room at the moment. Good. That was what she wanted.
Cameo made her way over to the weapons and grabbed a short sword with a thinner blade. It was more of a slashing weapon, but it would do the purpose now. It was actually easier for her to wield. She took a step back and held the blade over her head with two hands, feeling the balance. It was even better than the swords at home and a smile crept onto her face as she took a few swings, twirling as she did so. It was all for show. Her feet moved quickly, quicker than the sword. Proper footwork was key, one wrong step and she could make a huge mistake. She pretended to parry blows before turning to one of the dummies and slashing off one of the arms. The good thing about dummies was that they didn’t bleed. Another twist to the side and she slashed off the other arm. She took a step back to admire her work only for a second, but she was far from done. Cameo needed to prove just how intelligent she was.
She evaluated the area before the idea clicked in her mind. She looked at a new dummy, a standing one that wasn’t screwed into the floor, just on a heavy pedestal. Perfect. It was just what she needed. She placed the sword where she retrieved it from and picked up two daggers, one in either hand. She moved far to the back of the room, so that she was away from the practice dummy. Flipping the daggers in her hands once, she prepared herself. The look in her eyes was hard and calculating as she figured out each move that she had to do to make this perfect. Without wasting anymore time, she took off at a run and leapt at the dummy. A real human would have fought back and tried to stop her, but it was a good thing that it wasn’t real.
As she jumped, the knife in her hand sliced at the thigh of the dummy. Her knees collided with force on the chest of the dummy. It rocked, but with the angle and the amount of force, she could feel it start to topple. Her dagger made contact with the neck, before planting on in the heart and the other in the eye. As it landed, she rolled off and came up on her knees, swiping at the strands of hair that had fallen in her face. She stood and pointed at the slashes she made in the leg and the neck. “That is where the femoral artery is, you’d bleed out in three minutes. The other is where the jugular is. That’s two minutes unless I’d it the carotid as well, then they’d only have a minute or less. It’s obvious with the eye and the heart, death would have been instantaneous.” This was probably illegal to talk so much, but for her, she couldn’t just show them. She felt compelled to say something. No one had ever told her saying anything was against the rules, so she would just play dumb. She had done so well up until this crucial point where she needed to show her true colors. Her fifteen minutes had expired and they dismissed her. She gave a slight nod in acknowledgement as she left, hoping that she did all in her possible power to make her district proud.
A robotic voice announced that it was his time. Inhale, exhale, and then, he stepped into the room. Head held high, he looked directly at the gamemakers. Now was his moment to shine. “Hutton Sanger, District Three. Ready to show you just what I can do.” Not wasting any time, he moved quickly to grab a knife from the weapon’s rack. He ran from th rack to the plant comparison station and dropped down to his knees where it would open. “Most of the others are going to come in here and show you what they can do with a weapon. I’m here to show you that you can use your environment to your advantage.” He used the knife to jimmy open the plate and stuck his hands inside, pulling out some of the wiring, cutting ends and connecting them to others. He worked quickly to rewire the system, only once feeling a jolt in his hand. He pulled back and shook it before going back to work to finish what he was doing to the plant station.
Jumping up once he was doing with the rewiring, he ran over to one of the tables, grabbing a long thin rop, still holding the knife in his hands. He laid out the rope, tying it between the two bases of the stationary dummies. “These dummies would be trees,” he explained as he worked, “And I would camouflage foliage if this was really the arena.” A good length of the rope was taut between them, but he made sure the knot on the one side was loose enough to slip free. With the excess rope from around the dummies in his hand and the knife firmly placed between his teeth, he started to scale up the rope ladder that hung down from the ceiling. His hands moved swiftly and easily, one over the other, until he missed a rung and his foot slipped. He was hanging so close to the ceiling, with one hand clinging tightly to the rope ladder. Hutton grunted around the knife as he swung his body and other arm back toward the ladder. He grasped it and continued to pull himself up the rest of the way. He tied the knife to the end of the rope and hung it over one of the beams so that it was dangling down and would pull the rope downwards. If someone wasn’t looking for it, they wouldn’t know if was there.
Knowing that he didn’t have a log of time left from setting up his trap, he climbed back down, jumping when he was two feet from the ground, losing his footing and falling to his back. He scrambled up to his feet, losing precious seconds of his time. He picked up another one of the dummies. “This would work better with a living being who can press the buttons,” he informed the gamemakers as he sat it right in front of the plant station. Picking up one of the smaller weights, so that he wouldn’t damage anything too bad, he lobbed it towards the buttons on the console. It hit the buttons, causing the machine to short circuit. An electric current shot out, hitting the dummy right next to it. It flew backwards, where the feet would be on a real person, tripping over the rope. The rope unwound as the dummy fell, shooting up and around the beam, the knife hurtling down and planting itself in the dummy’s stomach. It didn’t land exactly where he hoped, but he could rectify that.
He walked over to the dummy, eyes shooting up to where the gamemakers were watching him. He managed a grim smile before turning his attention back to the dummy. His hand went to the throat, clasping it with force that would have choked a normal person. “IF I had more time, that would have been more involved. There would have been something that swung instead of just dropping down, to get more of an instant kill. Making an electric current in the arena will be hard, unless I have something electronic, but even a simple trip wire can do the same thing to snare a victim. Fore example, I’d use something they’d really want like the plant station here or food in the arena. I don’t think many of the other tributes will be expecting traps like this one and won’t pay attention to where they step. That’s where I can get the upper hand .They’ll be caught before they know it. Though, since I haven’t finished this one off,” His hand tightened around the neck, his other gripping the knife in the stomach and tugged, cutting open to cause a thick gash that would lead a person to bleed out. Knife still in hand, his gaze traveled back to the gamemakers. “And if I’m feeling merciful and don’t want them to die slowly,” he said as he drove the knife down without breaking his gaze with the gamemakers. The knife was planted in the heart of the dummy.
Hutton stood up and bowed. “Thank you for your time.” He glanced back at the plant station before smirking at them. “I can fix that if you want me to, before anyone else comes in.”
Fear fluttered in Koda’s stomach like a bunch of butterflies as he heard his name announce that it was now his turn to go in and do his showcase. “this is just another game,” he muttered to himself as he walked into the room and turned to face the gamemakers. “Koda Baler, District Nine. I need to set a few things up.”
Quickly so that he did not waste any time, Koda jogged over to where there was a bunch of training dummies set up. Grabbing one, he dragged it over to sit at the end of the obstacle course. He repeated this action two more times, knowing that his precious time was ticking down. He headed to the weapon rack and grabbed a sickle off of the wall. Passing by the camouflage station on the way back to the dummies, the boy retrieved a bowl of paint. He arranged the training dummies in a line before dipping his finger into the paint and crudely painting on the chest of each one a name large enough so that the gamemakers would be able to see it.
The next thing Koda did was kick off his shoes. “You’re probably wondering why I’m doing this. I’m fast, but socks lack traction. I’m going to do that without my shoes.” He pointed towards the obstacle course, knowing that he would be at a disadvantage in his sock, but that was the point. Showing how fast he could be was one thing. He wanted them to know he could still be just as fast at a slight disadvantage.
Running over to the beginning of the obstacle course, he held the sickle tightly in one hand before taking off and running at one of the obstacles, a wooden beam that he could either choose to slide under or hop over. He skidded on the floor , overcorrecting as he ran into it, stomach hitting against the beam. The momentum propelled him over and Koda landed onto the floor, instantly pushing himself back up onto his feet as quickly as he could. As he approached the next obstacle, he used the momentum that he had from slipping and sliding to drop to his stomach and shimmy through, popping back up and running to the edge where there was a gap between where he was and the next obstacle. He jumped, landing in a crouch before moving on and jumping over another beam, skidding to a halt in front of the dummies. It had only taken a few minutes, but now he had to show them the last part before his time wasup.
If you didn’t notice before I did that,I painted a name on each of these dummies. One career, one random person, and my district partner,” he said, doing his best to keep his voice from shaking. He raised the sickly up in an attacking position. The sickle was not a traditional weapon. That was exactly what he was going for. The paint was already starting to run down, but he could see that it said Temper. It was one of the names he could remember being a career. He struck out quickly, moving the sickle from right to left, the hooked blade catching in the stomach of the dummy. He pulled hard, opening a gash across the gut, padding starting to fall out. If that was a real person, they wouldn’t recover from this. It would’ve hit too many organs,” he commented, remembering what the trainers had said to him. “Gut wounds are dangerous untreated. Or so I’ve been told.”
He turned to the next one, the one labeled Noah. He had picked one of the names he remembered. With as much speed and strength that he could muster, he lashed out at the leg, catching the hook behind it and leaning his shoulder into the chest of the dummy so that it would fall backwards on the ground. It landed with a thud and Koda instantly swung the hook down so that it caught in where the navel would be, tugging up and splitting the dummy open. It wasn’t perfect and he didn’t think he got it too deep, but he had to move on.
He didn’t say anything as he jumped back up and swung the hook at the side of the neck of the next dummy, the blade cutting into the material. He pulled it back out with a sharp yank on the handle. Instead of going back for the incision he had just made, he used the point and aimed for the front of the throat, where the vocal cords would have been located. It sank in, coming out the other side and he pulled as hard as he could, ripping the material out. His eyes traveled down to the name he painted on this one. Angel. He swallowed the lump in his throat before turning back to the gamemakers. “As you can see, I’m even willing to kill my own District partner, even if I promised that I would get her home. I’m willing to do what it takes. And who wouldn’t trust someone with something that looks like a simple farm tool that he’s used on a daily basis? How could that ever be a weapon?” He turned away from them for one moment, raising the sickle again and brought it down on the top of the head of the dummy, leaving it stuck there. One more look at the gamemakers and Koda bowed his head slightly. “Thank you for your time.” And with that, the boy turned and came out the way he entered.
Bess closed her eyes, inhaling deeply and holding her breath for a few seconds. As she exhaled, she opened her eyes. It was her turn to show them what she could do. She would not be afraid, even if she was pretty far in the lineup of everyone they had to watch.
She walked into the room, smiling brightly as she stopped in the middle of the floor and looked up at the gamemakers and their feast. She offered them a little wave in greeting. “Hi! I’m Bess Yew from District Nine. And I’m here to show you what I can do.” The girl’s voice was just as bright and cheerfully as her smile. She turned away from the gamemakers and headed over to the weapons, talking as she went. ”So, I’m sure that people underestimate me. I’m a girl from District Nine. I’ve worked my whole life in the fields. I’m not very big or built like some of the others, but that’s where they’re wrong.” The smile was still there, but her voice sounded much more serious now as she reached out and picked up the set of throwing knives. “I’m a great climber, better than they’d all think.” She didn’t say where she learned to climb since that was illegal.
She approached the ropes course and looked up at it. It was high, but she had practiced climbing up and down it during training. She reached out and grabbed the first handhold and hoisted herself up. She pulled herself quickly, hand over hand and shimmied up until she was near the top. She paused for second before letting her body hang down. She swung back and forth, reaching out to grab the next spot and then the next. She moved quickly across the ropes before stopping. Biting her lip, the girl let go with one hand and fished out one of the throwing knives. Her arm already felt like it was calling out in protest as she raised the knife and aimed at one of the training dummies. She threw the knife, watching it arc down through the air and hit the dummy in the arm, not exactly where she was aiming. Gravity and the fact that she was hanging made it more difficult to do the throw, but that was why she did it.
With a grunt, she swung herself back up and grasped the rope again. She pulled herself up further so that she was hiding among the ropes course. She wrapped a few of the ropes around herself, leaving enough slack so she had mobility. She slid in between the layers so that she was nearly invisible. “I know the importance of making myself scarce. It could mean life or death if I’m out in the open all the time. With climbing, I can find a spot to hide until the tribute passes, but I can still be just as deadly.” She pulled out another one of the throwing knives, aiming it and throwing it at the same dummy, this time hitting it in the head since she was able to steady herself without swinging around wildly. “They wouldn’t even see it coming.”
Slipping back down through the ropes, Bess held on tight as she swung herself and grabbed another one of the ropes. She swung herself so that she was near the tree climbing station. She looked at it for a moment before she started to rock herself back and forth to get momentum. If she fell, she would ruin everything that she was trying to show them. Once she was in her arch upwards, she let go of the rope, sending her flying through the air. She hit the fake tree with a small “Oomph”. She slid slightly and she could feel the fake bark scraping against her arms and legs. She slid down to a branch where she saw the bow and quiver of arrows waiting for her. She picked it up, trying to remember everything she practiced. She nocked and arrow and aimed it for a dummy’s leg. She loosed it and heart it land with a sickening thunk. She knew it was important to show that she was versatile and could use more than one weapon, but she had already talked too much.
She scrambled down to a lower branch, grabbing onto it with one hand and letting herself hang down. Grabbing the last knife, she tightened her grip on it as she started to swing herself back and forth. She kept her eyes focused on the back of the training dummy that was not too far from her. She jumped, letting go of the branch, landing on the back of the dummy, wrapping her arms and legs around it, thankful that it was bolted to the ground and was not going to fall like an actual person would. She took her knife and planted the blade in the neck. She glanced back up at the gamemakers, bright smile back on her face again. “They won’t expect it. They won’t see it coming from a friendly girl like me.” She hopped down from the back of the dummy, offering the people a wave. “Thanks for watching me and have a great day!” she said, skipping out of the room once she was dismissed.
A sigh escaped their lips before they walked into the large training room. Eyes traveled upwards toward the gamemakers, knowing those watching had already seen a slew of other people before them. A brief introduction with their name and district before forcing a half smile was all that they offered before setting off towards the plant station.
They set off to work in silence, grabbing some leaves from a plant that they could identify as comfrey. They didn’t know as much as they should have about plants and herbal remedies. It was never their strongest subject, even with coming from that District. This was one that they could do, one that they had spent time learning how to make. “It is important to know how to make salves. How do I know how many sponsors I’m going to get? I might not be able to heal myself completely, but I could stop myself from dying right away.”
They crushed the leaves, grabbing some of what they could recognize as olive oil on the table and pouring it in there. They didn’t take too much time. It didn’t need to be perfect here. It was only a show for the gamemakers. A few quick movements over to the fire building station and they knelt down, hands working quickly to get the fire started. It took two tries, eating up a little bit of the precious time that they had been hoping to save. The fire came to life and he jogged back to the plant table, grabbing his concoction and positioned it over the fire. “Now, this salve takes a little while to boil out, but when it is done, it’ll help soothe aching joints and inflammation. It can even help with the pain of broken bones. However, one wrong ingredient…” Another quick jog back to the plant table. They grabbed a piece of cloth and picked up a tiny apple they knew to be poisonous. Even in their caution, their skin brushed up against it. They hissed in pain as they grabbed a bottle of water and poured it over the exposed area. Crushing up the apple, they took it back over and they through it into the pot. “That’ll cause an intense rash and if it gets into the bloodstream, it’ll be deadly. And no one would ever know by looking at it.” They held up their arm as proof, the area that had touched it already looking red and irritated.
They moved away from the station and towards the weapons. Finding what they were looking for, they grabbed the baseball bat from the wall. It was the only thing they felt comfortable at using. They had been athletic back in their district and even though they never used it as a weapon, they knew how to wield it properly. “I know what you’re thinking. This doesn’t look like a great weapon, but that’s where you are wrong.” Fingers gripped tightly as they walked over to the training dummies. Raising the bat, they swung as hard as they could for the gut. With a loud thump, the bat reverberated, sending shockwaves up their hands, but also knocking the dummy over.
They ducked around the next dummy, weaving through the training center. As long as they kept thinking about how the Hunger Games was a huge sports competition where the only thing different was that people died, they could do this. They swung the bat, hitting the next dummy in the legs. “With enough force, I could do enough damage to incapacitate them,” they called out through clenched teeth.
They skidded to a halt in front of one last dummy. Taking a swing, they hit it in the abdomen, but this time, they misjudged and it wasn’t as hard as they hoped. Swinging again with the makeshift weapon, they hit the dummy square in the head. It toppled over and they put a foot on the chest as if they were stopping someone from getting back up. They brought the bat down over and over again until stuffing started to pop out from the seams. Eyes traveling back to the gamemakers, they shrugged, “I know, not very pretty, but it’ll be bloody. I can promise you that." They place the bat back over on the weapon rack. "Thank you for your time.”
The door opened and Rojin could not stop the tears from prickling at the corners of his eyes. Great. He was starting to cry in front of the gamemakers while they were to judge him. He swallowed hard against the lump in his throat as he looked up at them. They sat above him, barely interested in a boy of thirteen from Eight. And what did he have to show them? What skills did he truly have outside of sewing? He ran a hand under his nose to stop the snot from running. “R-rojin Khadem. District Eight,” he managed to stammer out before he took off running towards the first aid station.
The boy stumbled over his own feet, catching himself, and making it the rest of the distance. He plucked up some needle and thread, hands shaking as he tried to thread it. He picked up the knife he’d asked to be sat near it and cut into a dummy nearby. Using the needle and thread, he started to sew the cut back up. It was harder than the fabric back in Eight and it took more effort to get it to pull together. He could feel the sweat beading on his brow as he finished up and looked at his handiwork. It wasn’t the best and he could see stuffing poking out of it. “I know how to sew. I could stitch my own wounds,” he said, trying to project his voice.
His time was ticking down and he had to move on. He ran over to the fire building station, grabbing items as he went. He laid them down around it as if it was a makeshift camp. The only item he kept was the club that he grabbed. He plopped down next to the station and started to build a fire. He grabbed the greenest wood that he could find. He piled it all together, fumbling over it and eating up time as he could not get the flint to light the wood. Once the sparks started to catch and smoke, the boy crawled backwards, stumbling to find a hiding place.
He hid behind one of the tables as the wood smoked. “Green wood makes a lot of smoke, so I would want to lure another tribute here. I’m not the biggest, but I could ambush them,” he explained and he jumped out towards the dummy he set up. He swung the club. It hit with a small thud, but it wasn’t hard enough to even rock the dummy. He was out of time and his stomach dropped. He tried his best and he did not think that it would be enough as he walked out.
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The doors opened to reveal the interior of the room and Kairi stepped inside, keeping her chin up as she approached the middle of the floor. She smiled up at the gamemakers. ”I’m Kairi Ahn from District Four. I hope you enjoy what I am about to show you.” She kept her voice bright and cheery as she pivoted on her heel and dashed off towards the wall of swords so that she could get started.
Reaching the wall quickly, she picked up a short sword and tested the weight in her hand. It would suffice. It was almost as good, maybe even better, than her favorite sword that she used back home. She stepped up to the training dummies and held the hilt with both hands so that she could get the maximum amount of power behind her swings. Strength was key to get in nice and deep like she wanted and while she was not built of pure muscle and of a leaner stock than some of the other careers, she knew she could get force behind her swing. She slashed with the sword, cutting into the material around the neck area. She pulled it back with ease and swung again, this time hitting the abdomen of it. ”If this was an actual person, they would be down by now. The neck is sensitive and often not covered and abdomen wounds are dangerous and easily infected,” she called back to the gamemakers, still in that bright tone.
She moved the sword to one hand, tightening her grip on it. She spun and used the momentum to hack at one of the arms. The strength of the hit went deep and she had to tug hard to pull the weapon back out. She struck again, severing the arm completely, listening as it thudded to the ground. She thrust the sword one last time, feeling the tip enter where the heart could be on a person. If a person had on body armor, as she had seen in previous years, it might not be as effective, but it would hurt like hell. However, an unarmored tribute would drop at that attack. She yanked the sword back out and then dashed over to the mat, nodding to one of the trainers to come and join her. Time was ticking away and she needed to spend the last ten minutes appropriately.
She picked one that looked more imposing than she was. She held the sword in her hand as they circled one another. Dark eyes appraised the trainer’s every move. She saw the way he held the sword in his hand and how it did not seem to be the right fit. Sword fighting was probably not his forte, she observed to herself. She took the bold step forward and struck out, metal clashing against metal. She hopped back and the trainer lunged at her next. She dodged out of the way, spinning out so she could get further away. He followed her, lunging again and she parried. There was strength behind his swings and she could feel them reverberating down her arms. The stronger he swung, the more likely he would tire himself out quickly. She also watched him used more of his right side. She would need to target his left as he left it wide open.
With every lunge at her, she kept the sword play like a dance. She dodged and twirled out of the way, backing her way up and forcing him to use every inch of the training room. She parried when she had to, trying to reserve her own strength, relying on her quickness to get her out of the way. The sword whistled over her head as she dipped out of the way, nimbly bending backwards. This was no different than training back home. She was often paired with taller, stronger students and she had to figure her way out of the situation. That was why she kept him moving. She twirled around as his sword struck hers, closer to where she wanted to take him. Her back hit ropes and she could see the grin on his face that he thought he had her. She wrapped her hand around one of the ropes and as he swung, she dropped her sword and started to scramble up into the nets. His swing connected with her foot, sending a shockwave of pain from the dulled sword. It did not slow her down as she heard the frustrated groan as she pulled herself through the ropes. She’d been on a boat before and messed around with the sails. She could pretend that this was the rigging. She heard him prowling below her on the ground and she leaned out of the ropes and waved. She gave a quick glance over to the gamemakers, hoping that this would simulate her using her surroundings.
Using one rope and her body, she swung herself back and forth to gain momentum. As soon as she thought she could grab the next, she launched herself through the air, hands finding purchase. She slid a little, the rope cutting into her hands, but she squeezed her legs around a part of it and stopped herself from sliding any further. She glanced down to get a view of her surroundings, seeing the fire building area close by. Perfect. It was exactly where she wanted to be. Her time was ticking down and she had to make the most of it.
She leaped to the final rope and hand over hand, she deftly made her way to the floor, hopping down the remaining few feet. The trainer was on her, sword still in his hand. Even with her impromptu rope work and the brief break he had, she could see the way his chest heaved. She tired him from making him give chase and it only caused her smile to grow. She ducked out of the way as he swung at her. She was weaponless, but her training would not let her give up. She kicked out at his shins to slow him down, backing up again. He swung once more and this time, Kairi dropped to the ground. Her hand reached back blindly as she searched for what she thought would be there. Her hand made contact with the dirt used to put out the fires. She grasped a fistful, barely rolling out of the way as a sword came toward her.
The sword raised back up and she used his next swing to throw the fistful of dirt into his face. He started to stumble backwards and that is when she struck. Her legs kicked hard at his left knee. It started to buckle, the sword clattering from his hands as he was more distracted with his eyes. Kairi rolled over, claiming the weapon for herself and got back up quickly to her feet. She struck out again, hitting him in the left leg once more so that he was now the one flat on his back. She held out the sword to his throat with a triumphant smile.
Not taking her eyes off him, she pressed the weapon to where she knew the artery was. The dulled blade would not cut through, but it would make her point. ”What I have learned over the years is that I need to be observant,” she said, her bright tone starting to change ever so slightly to mean business. ”It is best to be disarming in personality. If people don’t think I’m taking it seriously, then they’ll underestimate me. I’ve also learned to watch my opponent for tells. He,” she said with a gesture of the sword. ”Telegraphed all his moves to the right, so I knew I could take him out on the left. He also swung way too hard, so I knew I could tire him out by making him chase me around the area. I know that I can’t predict what will be in the arena, but what I can tell you is that I will use it to my advantage, just like I did here. Some might say what I did was playing dirty. There is no playing dirty or playing fair. I want to win, so I will do what it takes.”
Kairi finally moved the sword away from the man’s throat and turned back to the gamemakers. The bright smile was back as she gave a little bow. “Thank you for your time!” she called. She placed the sword on the ground and made her way out of the training room, only letting the whole façade drop once she was out of view.
Final Scores:
Vigor: 11
Dexterity: 11
Intelligence: 11, bumped up to a 12 after discussion
Overall Rank: 11
As Aoife walked towards the doors and stepped into the room, she reached up to her ponytail and tugged it a little tighter. Fifteen minutes was not a whole lot of time to do anything and the tiny girl from District Six had a lot to prove. As the doors clicked shut behind her, she only gave the gamemakers a cursory glance. “Aoife Pierce. District Six. What a pleasure,” she said dryly, not slowing her pace down as she made her way over to one of the training dummies.
The girl grabbed one and dragged it with her, grunting as she felt of the weight of it in her arms. She knew that she would not be the physically strongest tribute. She did not even hit five feet and did not train like the tributes from District One, Two, or Four. She hurried as much as she could as she deposited it at the end of the obstacle course. She did not want to think about the precious few minutes she wasted doing that as she ran back to the table with the camouflage paints. On her way there, she discreetly snagged a knife off the wall and hoped that the gamemakers did not see her do so as she slid it into the waistband of her pants.
At the table, she started to paint her hands and face, moving as quickly as possible and not worrying so much about precision here as she might in the arena. She had thought about painting them a picture of what she could do in the arena, but painting herself was the next best thing. It was the one talent, besides stealing, that could possibly benefit her here. Her hands were the easiest part to paint and to make look like bark. She only had two or three minutes to waste on this, knowing that she needed to dedicate more time to the obstacle course. She knew that she had to look silly with the smears of greens, blacks, and browns across her skin as she dropped the paints back on the table. “I’m an artist,” she called out as she raced back across the floor. “If I have access to supplies and even dirt, I could make myself blend in which seems stupid here, but it could help me hide in the arena.” She knew that she would need to rely on being able to hide. She had to outsmart people and to be quick. That was what was important to the girl.
Aoife came back to the obstacle course and crouched down, readying to launch herself at it. She took in a deep breath to steady her nerves as she took off, narrowly avoiding the first weighted bag that swung at her. It caused her to step right in the path of a second and it knocked into her. She fell of the platform and cursed at the pain in her side as she jumped back up and went back to the beginning. She took off again, dodging the first and second weighted bags. The third one came and she flattened herself to the floor as it swung right over her. Springing back up to her feet, she dashed to the next section. She stood on the next platform which led to what looked like a bunch of stepping stones. She had spent a good majority of her life running and dodging the adults in her life that she considered herself quick. The girl hopped from one to the next, barely pausing on the small plates until she landed on the next larger platform.
In the next area of the obstacle course, she saw the wall. It was decently high off of the ground, but nothing she would kill herself off of it she fell. She knew she was going to have to hoist herself over it. She found the first handhold and foothold and with a grunt she started to pull herself up. She was used to Etta’s bay window and scaling up and down the wall next to it so that she could get into her friend’s room. She pictured this wall was that. One hand over the other, she quickly scaled the wall. She could have chosen to use the rope hanging down it, but she continued up to the top and with another grunt, she quickly pulled herself up to the top and pressed herself down on it at the top, surveying the last part of the area. She knew what she had to do and her minutes were ticking away quickly. She would be cutting it close to even finish on time.
She grabbed the rope hanging over the side and let herself drop, feeling the burn in her hands as she did so, a small huff of air escaping her lips as she landed on her feet. There was a shock that ran up her body and she had to push through it. She could not stop as she reached a tangle of netting and the girl dropped down to the ground. Her short stature gave her an advantage for crawling through the netting. She focused on putting on hand in front of the other, keeping her movements quick, but highly aware that she could get caught if she was not careful. It was here that she hoped that they had trouble seeing her with the paint on her skin. This was the best she could do in the short amount of time to simulate brush.
As she came to the end of the netting, she could see the base of the dummy standing there. As quietly as she could, she untangled herself from the netting and crouched behind it. She had positioned it so it was facing away from her, hoping that they would understand that this was all supposed to show her sneaking up on someone who did not know that she was there. Aoife pounced and wrapped her arms around the neck of the dummy. It rocked on its base and for a second, she thought that they were both going to tumble to the ground. She leaned back ever so slightly so that it righted itself.
Her arms around the neck of the dummy tightened. “If this was a human, I’d be cutting off his airway. I know I’m small and they have a weight and height advantage on me, but if I can get the jump, I can hopefully surprise them and they won’t know what hit them.” She’d been in her fair share of fights back in District Six. She was a scrappy person and she had to use that to her advantage. It meant not playing fair. In a flash, she released one arm from the dummy and dropped it to the waistband of her pants. She produced the small knife and planted it in the left side of the neck and then kicked off the dummy. She pushed it forward, watching it fell onto its face as the momentum sent her to the floor. Aoife landed on her rear and quickly scrambled back up to her feet. She finally gave a real look at the gamemakers and gave them a little mock salute without saying anything else before pivoting on her heel and leaving the room behind.
Final Scores -
Vigor: 7
Dexterity: 10
Intelligence: 10
Overall Rank: 9
Vala inhaled deeply through her nose, holding it for a few seconds before exhaling through her mouth. It did nothing to calm the nerves building up in the pit of her stomach. She took a few shaky steps into the room, stopping almost in the center and looked up at the game makers. How could she prove anything to them? She’d never been super athletic, always picked near the middle if not closer to the end during gym class. She’d always done much better in science class. Now, she had to convince them that she was good enough for a decent score.
“Vala Packard, District Three.” Her voice sounded tiny and she looked back down at the ground. She could do this. She had to do this.
The girl jogged over to the weapons and grabbed a bow and a quiver of arrows from the wall. She slung it over her shoulders, making sure that they were sitting nicely before retrieving an axe. It was heavier in her hands. She never really used one before. A screwdriver, yes, but never an axe. She wanted to show them how smart she was and she could have disassembled one of the machines and put it back together but how would they know how it could help in the arena?
Biting her bottom lip, she wasted no time to dash over to a table of supplies and to grab the copper wire sitting on it. She slung the roll over her arm. Time to get to work.
Turning towards the fire building section of the training center, she found a few nice sized logs. Not too fat for her to carry and cut, but thick enough that they wouldn’t break. Taking the axe, she started to chop into them at angle. She knew that she only had fifteen minutes to show them everything that she could do. It was a very rudimentary point to it and she touched it, feeling it poking her skin, but not breaking the skin. Grabbing another log, she repeated the process, doing a few more times until she had around six pointed pieces of wood. She wasn’t completely pleased, but it would do the trick for now. She sat the axe down close to the trap, not even bothering to hide it. If someone saw it in the arena, they’d probably think it was an abandoned weapon.
She brought the pieces of wood over with her, sitting them on the floor as she brought out the copper wire and wound it around two of the trees to create a trip wire. Grabbing some dirt and some moss, she covered it up the best she could. Then, she took some of the dirt and smeared it across her own face. Blending in was key. She didn’t need to be completely covered, but if she could make herself look a little dirtier, it might buy her some time and camouflage. ”If I had more time, I would electrify it, but I know I won’t have a lot of availability to electronics in the arena,” she finally spoke up as she started to set up the spiked pieces of wood, digging them into the fake earth of the floor so that they were standing up. It would work so much better if she was actually outside.
Another dash over to the fire building station, she grabbed supplies to build a fire and quickly set it up behind the trip wire, but in front of her makeshift trap. She went to work quickly, spinning the sticks and watching as the smoke started to form. Soon enough, there was a spark forming and she fanned it to get it going. It didn’t need to be perfect. It was only to set up the scene before her. To complete the look, another quick dash to the station with the medical supplies had the girl with a bundle of bandages, splints, and ointments in her arms. She laid them near her fire as bait.
Taking a training dummy, Vala dragged it over and stopped it in front of the trip wire. She took a look over at the trap once more before heading to one of the trees and pulling herself up it. She could already feel the strain in her arms as she scrambled up into one of the branches, pushing back against it to make herself inconspicuous to anyone that passed by. She pulled her bow off her back and nocked one of the arrows.
Clearing her throat, she called attention to herself, though she wouldn’t do that in the arena. Attention was the last thing she wanted, but she needed the gamemakers to focus on what she wanted to say. “The smoke will show that someone is here. They’ll think, oh, she’s an easy target. Like I said, if I could electrify the wire, the shock would probably send them hurtling into my waiting trap, but since I can’t do that, can I get someone to push the dummy?” A trainer stepped forward to push the object, the feet of it hitting the wire and it fell straight into the pointed sticks. Most of them bounced off, but one pierced the abdomen. “Outside, I could dig a deeper hole so that they couldn’t see it and have more time to make the sticks sharper. It’s a simple trap, but one that can do a lot of damage especially if the hole is deep enough that they can’t escape. On a real person, that stick would have pierced near the stomach. Because of where it hit, unless they can get treatment immediately, there is a good chance it’ll get infected and they’ll die.”
She inhaled and let the arrow fly, hitting the dummy in the head. She nocked another one and this time, hit it in the leg. She could sit up from safety and pick off whoever tried to attack her.
Slinging the bow back over her arm, she scurried down the tree and back over to the discarded axe. She gripped the handle and lifted it back up. She walked back over to the dummy in her trap and heaved the axe over her head. She slammed it into the chest of the dummy once, pulling it back out with a hard yank and then did it one more time. She let go and looked up at the gamemakers. She felt like she was going to vomit. This wasn’t her. She wasn’t violent and as she spoke, she did her best to keep her voice from wavering, though it still sounded small and not as menacing as she wanted it to. ”And that’s for anyone who underestimates me and thinks I’ll be easy to pick off. Thank you for your time.” With that, she turned around and walked out, trying to not fall over as she did so.
Final Scores -
Vigor: 7
Dexterity: 8
Intelligence: 11
Overall Rank: 9
”Kaycee Anders. District Seven,” she said as the doors closed behind her. She glared at them, sitting there with their food, watching her as if she was some sort of entertainment. She could feel the anger burn inside of her and she knew she needed to harness that to show them everything that she could do.
She ran over to one of the tables with some basic first aid supplies and started to pull it away from where it was located. A few precious minutes ticked by as she positioned it underneath the fake tree of the tree-climbing station. She did not need it to be perfect, but in a good enough spot that she’d be able to reach it. Knowing that she could not waste any more time with it, she pivoted to move on. A short jog brought her over to the edible plants station and she picked up a handful of dark berries that she recognized from her excursions into the woodlands. She spent enough time going out there and being hungry enough to figure out what was edible and what wasn’t. She held them up towards the gamemakers. ”These are pokeberries and they while they’re not that poisonous to animals, they are poisonous to humans, even though they look kind of close to grapes. A hungry tribute isn’t going to know any better unless they're looking closely. Not that you’d know that.” She couldn’t help but add that, even though she knew she shouldn’t. What would they do kill her? Kill her already dead family? She slipped them into a small pouch and put it in her pocket before taking off for ropes course.
She scaled up quickly, all her years of living in District Seven and climbing trees helping her. Hand over hand, she quickly disappeared up among the ropes. She let herself get lost in them as she shimmied her way towards the end. It did not take her long to get through it, having practiced on it when she had free moments during her training. She could see the tree climbing station right across from her and the table below it. With a determined grimace, she grasped the ropes and let herself drop down so that she was hanging in the air. She could feel the burn in her arms as she swung herself towards the tree. She might have not has much arm strength, but it was her determination and adrenaline that kept her moving. One. Two. Three swings until she could get her momentum and she launched herself towards the tree.
She instantly circled her arms around it to help slow her descent as felt on of the branches stop her. She gritted her teeth to stop herself from crying out. She needed to remain silent. That was what this was all about. Quick, silent, and inconspicuous. Those were all traits that she used to thrive out on the streets of District Seven when she stole food from local merchants. She thanked whatever odds there were that she at least had a talent that could be used in her showcase.
She climbed silently down the tree until she reached the lowest branch. This was the part that made her nervous the most. She pulled the small pouch out of her pocket and then, swung herself so that she was hanging with her legs wrapped around the branch. Directly above the table, she reached down and pulled a few of the supplies off the table, placing the little pouch of berries there instead. She did not stay in this position for too long, feeling the blood start to rush to her head. She swung herself back up, taking a few moments to regain her composure before shimmying down the tree the rest of the way with her newly acquired first aid supplies in hand. ”Now, with real tributes around, I would have to wait for the opportune moment to do that, but everyone needs to sleep or piss, so, I’d find it.”
With a glance at the clock and seeing that she had enough time to show off a little bit of her other skills, she did not waste time to drop the supplies in her hand and rush to get a hatchet from the wall of weapons. It was light enough as her small fingers wrapped around the wooden handle. The beauty of it was that it could be used as both a weapon and to collect wood if she was in a place that had trees. She wished that she had enough time to weaken a branch on a tree and show how that could be dangerous, but she needed to show them weapon prowess.
She approached one of the training dummies, trying to remember what the trainer said about using her small size to her advantage. She did not come at it head on, ducking around the side as if she was avoiding limbs of a larger person. She ran around it, striking out with her free hand towards the throat, one of the weaker areas that she knew of to get some sort of advantage. She twisted around the dummy as she swung with the hatchet, slicing it in the side. It was enough to bring a small smile to her lips.
Kaycee drew back a little from the training dummy. If she was fighting a real person, it would have been her quickness that she’d use to get away from them. With a little bit of space between her and it, she launched herself at it, arms circling around its neck and knees against its chest before she slammed the hatchet down into the head of it and pushed off so that she landed on her feet. She stumbled slightly, but managed to keep herself up. She glanced up at the gamemakers. Time was ticking down as she headed back towards the dummy and grabbed hold of the handle with both hands. She gave it a sharp tug to get it out of the head of the dummy.
She rested it against her shoulder as if she was leaving from a day of work in the lumber yard and started to walk away towards the supplies she dropped earlier. Stopping next to them, she turned back towards the dummy, imagining that it was all the people that had taunted her, tormented her. She even imagined that it was the people here, thinking that she was here for their entertainment. She chucked the hatchet towards the dummy, hearing it thud as it struck it in the chest. It would have slowed a tribute down and maybe not have killed them on impact if they were of the bigger sort, but she wanted to leave them with the image of the small seventeen year old from Seven throwing her weapon back. She didn’t say anything as she walked towards the door so that she could leave. There was nothing left to show them. She’d let them decide her fate.
Final Scores -
Vigor: 9
Dexterity: 11
Intelligence: 8
Overall Rank: 9
It was Hero’s time to shine. This was the moment she’d been preparing for since she was nine years old and entering the training center for the first time. Her eyes quickly studied the room before lighting upon the gamemakers. Flashing them a smile, she cocked her head to the side. ”Hero Poole, District Four and I’m here to show you what I can do.”
Sprinting over to the ropes station, the girl picked up a thin rope and ran back over so that she was between two of the stations. She secured one end, tying it expertly, like she had learned from the few years that her parents taught her knots for fishing. She pulled it taut, making sure that it was low to the ground and tied it to the other side. She stood up from her work and looked back up at the gamemakers before moving on from her trap to sprint back over to the rope station. She grabbed some of the other ropes to throw them on the ground around to disguise what she did. It would work better in the arena with a natural setting with dirt and leaves. She did not say anything about it. She would show them why she did it later.
Walking over towards the targets, nimble fingers snatched up the throwing knives. They fit perfectly in her palm as she tested the weight before aiming and letting the knife fly at the target. It hit it squarely in the bullseye, but Hero did not pause to look to see what the gamemakers thought. She threw another one quickly after it, glancing off of the target and clattering to the floor. Another knife followed suit in milliseconds, thunking into the bullseye again. Quietly and quickly pocketing the next knife in her hand, she grabbed a shuriken instead. The throwing star was smaller and lighter than the knife. Changing how she was throwing to adapt for that, she let it fly at the target. She alternated between the throwing knives and the shuriken, striking close to the bullseye as she fired them off rapidly. She held the last knife in her hand, ready to throw it at the target and instead of throwing it at the bullseye, she switched at the last second, watching it hit the training mannequin right in the forehead. “And now that you can see what I can do to a nonmoving target, let me show you what else I can do,” she said to the gamemakers, winking in their direction.
A trainer flipped a switch and the targets started to move around. Hero picked up another set of throwing knives. She flipped one in her hand before letting it fly towards the closest target. It hit in the outer ring. She waited a moment before she chucked the next knife at another target. She backed up, giving herself more distance between herself and the targets. Another knife flew out of her hand before she back up until she was standing on a platform. Taking a running leap, she jumped off of the platform, spiraling through the air and release the knife while she was in midair. It hit off center of the target. The girl smiled as she moved away from the targets.
She turned towards a male trainer in a room, motioning for him to come forward. Her other skills could not be used against a training dummy. She needed a human being for her next bit. She charged the trainer, twisting around him as he threw a punch at her. He was bigger than she was and she had to use her size and her agility to her advantage to get away from him. She kicked at his knees as he spun around to try to face her. The girl moved again to try to dodge his attack and this time, she felt his punch glance off her shoulder. A small ‘oof’ left her lips and the trainer took advantage of his hit glancing off her shoulder. She felt the hit collide with her ribs. Hero dropped down, clutching her stomach. She bit the inside of her lip hard enough that she brought tears to her eyes and could taste the copper in her mouth. She rubbed her tongue against it, smearing it over her bottom lip to make it look like she was bleeding worse than she was. “Stop! Stop!” she cried out, making her voice waver. The girl knew she needed to make it convincing. She was someone who was in their top condition and to fool someone into thinking she was severely hurt, she’d have to pull out all the stops. “I’m actually hurt.” She watched him hesitate and she made her move, kicking out so that her leg snagged around his to pull him down. This gave her enough time to scramble away from him, back to her feet, and gain some distance. With a smirk as he stood back up, she motioned for him to come and get her, taunting him. She sprinted towards the agility course. She darted back and forth, jumping over obstacles, hoping that he was struggling as she looped back around to where her rope trap sat, waiting to be used. Having him thoroughly distracted, Hero took off towards the rope. She hopped over the line at the last second and landed on the other side, but he didn’t notice it, toppling to the ground.
Hero used this to her advantage to jump on top of him and pin his arms to the side so that he was face down on the ground. The look on her face softened as she leaned down so that her lips were near his ear. “Okay, okay. That was a nasty trick. I promise, I’m done. I can help you up and we’ll both be on our way. It’ll be over quickly. Fair and square,” she said, her voice full of sincerity. She saw the hesitation in his eyes from having being fooled by the girl before, so she placed a hand gently on his back, stroking her fingers down before planting a kiss on his cheek. She jumped off of him and held out her hand as if to prove she could be trusted. Her other hand went slowly to her pocket as he stood up, taking her hand. She barely waited for him to steady himself before she moved in like a flash, jumping on his back and snaking her legs around his waist. She produced her knife, holding it level with his heart. “See? Over quickly.” Her eyes went to the gamemakers. “Now imagine what I could do with someone who trusts me implicitly. I could have them…” She ran a finger down the side of the trainer’s face. “… doing my every whim and using them to protect me until I didn’t need them anymore.” She untangled herself and hopped back down to the floor. “What makes a better show than people turning on one another?” She flicked her hair out of her eyes before turning to walk towards the exit. She looked back over her shoulder with a coy smile. “Thank you for this opportunity.”
Final Scores -
Vigor: 10
Dexterity: 12
Intelligence: 11
Overall Rank: 11
Chapter: Two
Genre: AU Hunger Games
Characters: Reef Waverly
Words: 1,542
PREVIOUS CHAPTERS : One
Minute by minute dragged by as Reef pondered his fate. He sealed it when he raised his hand and volunteered instead of his brother. Why? Why did he have to do that? He’d always been impulsive, but this seemed impulsive even for him. He told himself he did not get jealous. When it came to his brother, it was different. All he felt in that moment was wanting to steal the glory away from his brother. He wanted to take it all from him and wipe the smug look off his face. He thought about his brother coming home a victor and rubbing it in and it was enough to make his blood boil. He hadn’t considered the alternative. His brother could be dead at the end of it all and their family would be in mourning. Now instead of it being Dune, it was him.
Slowly, Reef lifted his head from his hands and sucked in a deep breath. He’d never known anyone who personally went into the Hunger Games, so that meant he never visited the rooms in the Justice Building. He did not even come down to collect tesserae. They did well enough without the children needing to take extra out. The chair he sat in was plush, but old. It probably saw use of a dozen other teenagers. Hell, it might have been here from the very beginning. He ran his hand over the padding. ‘I could chuck it against the wall’ he thought, but he pushed that away. Throwing a tantrum would do nothing for him.
Books lined the walls and he started to stand, thinking about perusing one before someone entered. Would that? Maybe his best friend would take time out to see him. Would his family? Or would they be far too angry to even want to see him?
Reef frowned, swallowing hard against the lump forming in his throat. He did not know if he would be able to stay strong if he did not see his mother, Tide, or Cascade ever again. He needed to see them before he left. “Oh, shit, my birthday meal,” he muttered to himself. He’d forgotten about the meal his mother prepared for after the Reaping. He would not get any of those treats now and the joke about his name being pulled made his stomach sour.
The door opening snapped him out of his thoughts. He turned to see a group of familiar dark haired people shuffle into the room. The door was not even shut as Mariner rushed over to his son and grabbed him roughly on the shoulder. “What the hell did you just do, Reef?” The words were rushed and loud, causing Reef to wince and put his arms up in front of his face.
Reef squeezed his eyes shut and braced himself for the punch that would surely hit him square in the face. His father had never been a violent man. Reef never remembered him raising a hand to any of his children, but what happened earlier in the town square was something that none of them had anticipated. He had gone and screwed up every plan his father made.
A peacekeeper stationed at the door would have been able to stop the man, if they wanted to do so. There was a good chance they would. Why would they want an injured tribute going to the Capitol?
Reef peeked open on eye to see his father, red faced and fuming with his hand clenching and unclenching. It did not move to strike him and Reef started to relax and his arms dropped from their protective stance.
“Happy birthday to me?” he quipped as he scanned the room. His dad, his mom, Tide, Cascade. No Dune. Only four of the Waverlys were there, his brother absent from seeing him off.
A sob from the corner of the room took his attention away from his father and to his mother. Ara buried her face in her hands, her body wracked with sobs. Reef glanced down at the ground, feeling remorse and guilt for his actions. He did this. He was not the child that they sent off to train. That had been Dune and his mother made sure that Reef had been safe at home with her. He’d spent most of his childhood with her on the fishing boats, while his father showered his brother with praise. Dune would be the one to raise his hand. He would be the victor that his father hoped for.
And then, Reef went and ruined that.
He wanted to tell her that he wished he could take it all back and that he never meant to do this. He did not mean to hurt her, only Dune. He wanted to ask if his brother would show up at all. He opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out. It felt like the sand, dry and rough.
He was going to die.
Finally, he summoned up all the confidence that he could and turned away from his father in front of him to look at his two younger siblings and his mother. Pulling his arm free from his father’s grasp, he knelt down in front of Tide and Cascade. “Don’t worry. I’ll come back. How hard could it be?” As the words left his mouth, he did not believe them, but he just had to convince everyone else.
Arms latched around his neck and Reef snaked one of his around Cascade. “I have to come back for you two. Who else is going to put up with you? Dune won’t,” he said as he blinked back the tears. He could not cry in front of them. He needed to remain strong, but it was hard to do so when another pair of arms wrapped around him and he could feel his brother now hanging off him. “You two are going to have to let me go. I have the Hunger Games to win,” he joked halfheartedly.
“If you took this from your brother, then you need to win,” his father said. Reef did not even deign to look up at the man. He couldn’t. Instead, he clung to his siblings and listened to them tell him how he could do it.
Another sob came from above him and he untangled himself from the two children and stood back up so that he was facing his mother. “Don’t worry about me. I can do this,” he whispered, trying to keep his confidence as her blue eyes locked on his.
Her hand reached out and she cupped his cheek. He thought he would break down at the touch, feeling his lip quiver. “You are foolish and impulsive and I will never understand why you raised your hand. You would have been safe. Please come home to us, Reef.” Her fingers caressed his cheek and he felt the tear slide down it. “You need to do this, but remember who you are. My caring boy who’d help anyone in need. Keep that in here,” she said, moving her hand from his cheek and placing it on his heart.
He wiped at his face, ready to respond when the door opened up. “Time’s up,” the peacekeeper said roughly. He wanted to protest as his family was forced out of the room and the door shut.
Alone once more. He hated it. He stared at it for a while, moving his hand back up to wipe at the tears that started to fall. Of course, it would be his mother to make him cry. It was the last time he could do that. Going into the Hunger Games, he would need to show he was the right choice. He would have to exude the confidence that he liked to portray back home. Sometimes, his mother called it cockiness, but he could use it in his favor.
The door opened again to reveal his friend and this time, he sat opposite in one of the chairs. The two of them talked about Reef’s chances and joked around about Reef flirting with the other tributes. It almost felt normal for the short time they were allowed to spend together. It was over too soon when the peacekeeper opened the door and ushered him out.
Reef’s gaze went back to the door. He watched it, waiting for it to open again. His brother had to come. There would be no way that he was that angry at him that he would not wish him good luck or come to scream at him. He needed to come, though Reef was not sure what he’d say if he did. He could not trust his own mouth to say the right thing. The time ticked by. Too slowly and too quickly all at once. The door never opened again to a visitor.
The next time it did, a peacekeeper motioned to him. “All right, kid, time to get you on the train to the Capitol.”
The was a stone in Reef’s stomach. It felt heavy as he stood up and walked over to the man. All the energy had been sapped out of his body. This was it. He was going to the Capitol to die.
Reef’s Games, i’ll come up with a better title later
Chapter: One
Genre: AU Hunger Games
Characters: Reef Waverly
Words: 2,034
Summary: Reef was never supposed to volunteer. His brother was the one who was trained, but on the day of the 86th Hunger Games, Reef raised his hand instead and sent his life down a path that he’d never even considered. (This is based on a character of mine from a RP board)
Chapters: One | Two
The scents of baked good filled the Waverly household as sixteen-year-old Reef bounded down the stairs and into the kitchen. Ara Waverly stood at the stove, her dark hair pulled up into a messy ponytail, tutting her tongue at something. She was cutting it close to the time of the Reaping, but that was not what had brought the teen into the kitchen. No, it was the smells that permeated the house. He tried to keep his steps light as he crept into the kitchen. He passed right behind her, giving her a sideway glance to make sure that she was not paying attention. He neared the cooling rack, the chocolate chip cookies sitting right there. The smell enticed him as he reached forward ever so slowly, his fingers inching their way to grab the cookie.
“You know they are for later, Reef Caspian Waverly,” his mother scolded without even turning around as she opened up the oven and pulled out the cupcakes, sitting the tray on the top of the oven. “You have to wait until we get home for that.” She turned around, crossing her arms over her chest, blue eyes taking in his appearance. He was already dressed in the blue shirt that was saved for Reapings. It remained untucked from his dress slacks and his hair was messy from running his fingers through it. His mother tutted her tongue again at his haphazard appearance.
“One for the walk down?” he asked as he leaned against the counter, giving her his best pleading look. “After all it is my birthday and you wouldn’t make me wait on my birthday, would you? What if my name is drawn?” It was a low tactic from the boy with his mother, knowing how he could possibly get her to cave. Then again, Reef inherited his stubbornness from somewhere. His gaze did not waver from hers, trying to see if she would give in.
She patted his cheek, having to reach up, the sixteen-year-old already having a couple inches on her. “Nice try.” She smoothed his hair down into something more manageable. “Even if it is, someone will volunteer, they always do.” She did not say what she was thinking. Reef knew it, though. That someone would be his brother, chomping at the bit to get into the arena. “Now, I need to clean up and we’ll all head down to the town square.” He opened his mouth and the woman sighed. “Fine, just one.” She moved away as he grinned and took one of the warm cookies off the rack. “And tuck in your shirt!” she called back to him as she walked out of the kitchen.
As he left the kitchen, he walked towards the door to the house. They would go down to the square together as per their custom. He sighed as he stepped outside, lifting the cookie to his mouth and taking a bite. The hot July weather hit him immediately. He could feel the salt in the air as he leaned against the wall of the house to wait. If his mother came out of the house, she would yell at him for dirtying his shirt. He started to look over when the door opened up and before he had a chance to react, the cookie was slapped out of his hand.
“And that’s why you’d die in the Games. You’re too slow.”
Reef glared at his older brother. Fury burned through him and he barely paid attention to his now ruined snack on the ground by his feet. Even though there were only two years between them, Dune looked more imposing. His years of training developed his muscles in a different way from Reef’s years helping on the fishing boats. “You don’t know that. I’m smarter than you are. You’d probably let someone get the best of you,” he hissed back at his brother. “I hope your name is chosen and someone volunteers so you can’t go in.” This fight between them started yesterday. He should have walked with his friends past Dune’s group. He should not have stopped and said anything at all. Instead, something about the way his brother and his friends laughed and talked about it all got under the usually laidback Reef’s skin. So, he tried to embarrass him yesterday and it made last night’s dinner tense between the two of them. He’d thought he would ignore his older brother today, but fate seemed to think differently.
There was a flicker of anger over his brother’s face and for a moment, Reef thought he would be pinned up to the wall with a black eye. Instead, the door opened again and the rest of the family stepped outside. His own anger faded, locking it away, so that he could grin at his mother. He kicked the cookie away with the toe of his shoe so that she would not see what happened.
“Well, let’s get going. Today’s the day!” exclaimed Mariner Waverly, a huge proud grin plastered on his face. “’Bout time my oldest son volunteers for the Games!” Reef tried not to let what his father said bother him. Dune was the one who’d been chosen. They only had enough money for one of them and if Reef thought about it, he considered himself the lucky one. His life was not being sacrificed for his father to live vicariously through a victor child. Still, he could not stop the pang of jealousy at the way his father looked at his brother. His blue eyes drifted over to Tide and Cascade. ‘Would they be next?’ Reef thought bitterly. If Dune did get in and didn’t win, he assumed that his dad would pick one of the younger two, unless his mother stopped him.
Reef pushed off the side of his house and followed the rest of his family to the square. On the way, hands brushed the dirt off his back. “Really, Reef? Out of sight for five minutes and already trying to ruin your shirt,” his mother sighed as she finished dusting off his back and deftly tucked his shirt in before he could protest. He offered her up a shrug as he reached out to take his sister’s hand.
“Want to ride on my shoulders, Cascade?” he asked, ignoring the glare his mother shot his way. He lifted the girl up, settling more for a piggyback ride than fully up on his shoulders. “We’ll race you, Tide!” he said to the younger boy walking near Dune. His sister giggled in his ear as he sped up. He watched Tide take off and he heard his mother shout something, but he ignored it. Sweat prickled his skin, but Reef did not care as he raced with his sister on his back into the town square of District Four. He skidded to a halt, grinning down at Tide jumping up and down victoriously. “Look at you. You’re getting faster,” he laughed as he let Cascade climb down from his back as their parents and Dune joined back up.
His mother was back to him as his father talked to his brother. She ran her fingers through his hair again. “Not much longer and then, we’ll go back and celebrate your birthday.” She pressed her lips to his cheek and his face burned with embarrassment.
“Mom, you should let me sign in. There are people around,” he mumbled as she looked at him, a sadness passing through her eyes for just a moment. “I should go.” He jabbed his thumb towards the sign in table and she nodded in response.
The line wasn’t long as he held out his right hand so they could prick his finger for check in. They nodded and he moved through, finding the group of sixteen-year-old boys. As soon as he picked a spot, Reef reached down and freed his shirt from his pants. “Hey, Reef. Happy birthday.” He turned to see his best friend standing next to him. They were in the same class and worked on the same boat after school. He greeted him back, but did not get to say much more as the escort stepped up to begin the Reaping for the Eighty-Sixth Hunger Games.
Reef’s focus was on the video that played over the screen, a yawn escaping his lips as he turned to find his family in the crowd. His mother’s eyes found him and he watched her motion to him to tuck in his shirt again. A smile toyed at his lips as he tucked in the side that she could see. He waved to Tide and Cascade before turning back around to watch the escort approach the Reaping ball. The woman’s fingers swirled the slips of paper around and pulled one out with such flourish. “Marina Clearwater.” Whoever the girl was, she did not even get to step forward as clear and loud voice called out, “I volunteer as tribute!”
The girl who stepped forward was one that Reef knew from Dune’s circle. Her dirty blonde hair fell in beachy waves, bouncing as she walked with a purpose to the stage. The green dress she wore highlighted her sun kissed skin. She looked like the picture of the perfect tribute and she’d obviously been rehearsing this moment for weeks leading up to this. She smiled, it even reached her green eyes, as she leaned into the microphone. “Maren Storm,” she said and then she took a step back to allow the escort to move towards the ball that held the names of all the boys.
It felt like ages as the escort pulled a name out of the bowl. She opened it slowly. Reef stole a look at his brother. He looked primed to raise his hand and all that jealousy and anger bubbled up inside of him. He looked so proud and Reef wanted to knock that smug look off his face.
“Dune Waverly!”
Without thinking, Reef threw his hand into the air. “I volunteer as tribute!” he called out and suddenly, hundreds of pairs of eyes were zeroing on him. Reef did not shrink back as he felt the hand of his best friend on his shoulder. He did not look, knowing that he would see the question of why in his eyes. He stepped forward, people moving away from him. He walked with confidence towards the stage, untucking his shirt as he went, each step knowing that he was being judged. He had not trained. He was never supposed to volunteer, but in that moment of hearing his brother’s name, something in him snapped. He wanted to take that from him. Dune told him that he couldn’t do it. He wanted to prove him wrong. Now, as he took the first step up, he realized what he’d done. He did not think he could take his volunteering back. There was no way that would be allowed.
He grinned as he stepped up to the microphone. “Reef Waverly,” he said, taking that moment to steal a look at Dune. The older boy clenched his jaw and Reef could see the pure hatred written over his features. There was a small bit of pride that swelled in him, even if he should not have felt that way. He could not will himself to seek out his parents in the crowd. His mother would no doubt cry and the anger he’d see on his father’s face would be almost as bad as what he saw on Dune’s.
“Oh, Waverly. That must be your cousin or your brother!” The escort chirped and Reef offered her up a charming smile.
“Brother. Older brother. He wasn’t ready,” he lied, not letting the smile falter, taking a step away. He did not let the smile fade even when they ushered him off the stage and into the Justice Building. They led him down a long hallway, opening up a door and showing him inside. When the door shut behind him, Reef walked over to a chair and sat down. The weight of what he’d done settled on his shoulders. He buried his head in his hands. How was he going to get out of this alive?
