Izzysink

she/her I like to write

[izzysink]

↜ 𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐬,

✎ 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕

✎ 𝒂𝒐𝟑 𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒇𝒊𝒍𝒆

✎ 𝐼 𝑢𝑠𝑒 𝑑𝑖𝑣𝑖𝑑𝑒𝑟𝑠 𝑏𝑦 @adornedwithlight 𝑜𝑛 𝑚𝑜𝑠𝑡 𝑖𝑓 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑎𝑙𝑙 𝑜𝑓 𝑚𝑦 𝑝𝑜𝑠𝑡𝑠 - 𝐼 𝑑𝑜 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑜𝑤𝑛 𝑛𝑜𝑟 𝑑𝑖𝑑 𝐼 𝑚𝑎𝑘𝑒 𝑎𝑛𝑦 𝑑𝑖𝑣𝑖𝑑𝑒𝑟𝑠 𝐼 𝑢𝑠𝑒

[melodicwriter]

[izzysink]

𝐑𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐒𝐎𝐃𝐘:

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐠𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬, 𝐟𝐞𝐦! 𝐨𝐜

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐦𝐨𝐨𝐝𝐛𝐨𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐬

Is this the real life? Is this just fantasy? Caught in a landslide, not escape from reality, Open your eyes, look up to the skies and see.

Katniss Everdeen once spoke of Tributes altered and changed by the Capitol. 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐀 𝐋𝐀𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐑 was one of them.

District 11, the 69th games; the odds were never in her favor.

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏: 𝑃𝑅𝐸𝐿𝑈𝐷𝐸

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟐: 𝑅𝐸𝐴𝑃𝐼𝑁𝐺 𝐷𝐴𝑌

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟑: 𝑇𝐻𝐸 𝐶𝐴𝑃𝐼𝑇𝑂𝐿

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟒: 𝑇𝑅𝐴𝐼𝑁𝐼𝑁𝐺 𝐷𝐴𝑌 1

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟓: 𝑇𝑅𝐴𝐼𝑁𝐼𝑁𝐺 𝐷𝐴𝑌 2

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟔: 𝑇𝑅𝐴𝐼𝑁𝐼𝑁𝐺 𝐷𝐴𝑌 3 - in progress

[izzysink]

𝑹𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒔𝒐𝒅𝒚, 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒉𝒖𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒓 𝒈𝒂𝒎𝒆𝒔

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟓: 𝑇𝑅𝐴𝐼𝑁𝐼𝑁𝐺 𝐷𝐴𝑌 2

𝒃𝒆𝒄𝒂𝒖𝒔𝒆 𝒊’𝒎 𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒚 𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒆, 𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒚 𝒈𝒐

𝑚𝑖𝑙𝑑 𝑡𝑤: 𝑝𝑎𝑠𝑡 𝑡𝑒𝑒𝑛 𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑔𝑛𝑎𝑛𝑐𝑦 + 𝑚𝑐 𝑖𝑠 𝑎 𝑡𝑒𝑒𝑛 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑒𝑛𝑡 - 𝐼 𝑑𝑜 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑚𝑒𝑎𝑛 𝑡𝑜 𝑟𝑜𝑚𝑎𝑛𝑡𝑎𝑠𝑖𝑠𝑒 𝑡𝑒𝑒𝑛 𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑔𝑛𝑎𝑛𝑐𝑦 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑖𝑡 𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅𝒏’𝒕 𝑏𝑒 𝑟𝑜𝑚𝑎𝑛𝑡𝑎𝑠𝑖𝑠𝑒𝑑

𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ✎ 𝐚𝐨𝟑 𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐤 ✎ 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 ✎ 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫

The next morning, Maria rose early, knocking on the opposite door to reveal a bleary-eyed Peppa, expression all too similar to Jenny’s morning face.

For breakfast, warm stew was on the table, toast and butter and pastries and scones littered around it. She cradled her bowl in her hands like the carrots and potatoes in the bubbling broth held the answer to getting back home. Like she could see Briar's face in the froth at the edge, her laugh in every waft of steam that curled around her nose. Her hands burned with the heat of the stew seeping through the ceramic like water through a net. What did they have for breakfast in District 4, she wondered.

Peppa dug in beside her, shoveling pastries and chocolate spread in his mouth like a starving man. Chocolate was a recent discovery of the two children, the sweet, addictive flavour exploding on their tongues. 

Maria spoke into the peace of the morning, the two were up much too early for their mentors to be awake. “Sleep well, last night?”

Peppa ceased his attack on a nearby croissant, “I guess, I keep on having this same dream over and over though.”

This piqued Maria’s interest. “Really? What’s it about?”

He shook his head. “It doesn’t matter, it’s stupid anyways.”

Maria looked at him disbelievingly, an eyebrow raised and her lips in a straight line. He popped the rest of his croissant in his mouth before speaking again, crumbs flying everywhere. “I always see myself at school, in the playground. I’m playing with my friends until the bell rings, and the dream stops.” He rubbed his hands on his training pants, brushing off flakes of pastry, “I told you it was weird.”

“Thank you for telling me anyway; wanna head down?”

Peppa looked at her sideways “now? It's eight in the mor -ning.” he whined. 

“You know, my daddy used to say an early start meant an early finish.” She said, getting up from the breakfast table. “That's old man talk for I want breakfast now , but my point still stands. I want to try and get my hands on a training dummy before that girl from 2.”

[x]

When she handed Peppa a small dagger, she could see the uncertainty in his eyes, the worry in his stance as she told him to try and practice on the dummy in the far corner, try and keep your hold secure so you don't lose it in the arena. She felt stupid for even trying to train the boy, he was afraid of his own shadow at times, and she saw him jumping at the quietest sound. 

She perused the aisles of weapons thoughtfully, she had terrible aim, (she had only told Peppa she wanted the bow and arrow to get him out of their floor), she probably didn’t have the strength to hold a sword or throw a spear effectively. The Capitol didn’t give out modern weapons in the arena, guns were too dangerous to give to Tributes. Maria had laughed at that, too dangerous for an arena filled with children gunning to kill each other. 

She felt her only option was a small blade, how she would get close enough to anyone to use one she didn’t know, but it was something she knew how to handle, at least rudimentarily. She used a sickle daily but there was no way they’d supply—

Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted a curve of bronze metal hung low, abandoned on the rack of daggers.

She and Peppa trained side-by-side, slashing at their dummies for the better part of an hour before people started to trickle in. Maria put down her sickle, massaging her hand distractedly. She felt useless; how did this help, how did telling a 12 year old to stab a stuffed bag keep him alive. She knew once Peppa got into the arena he would be her responsibility, he was practically a puppy for her to protect. But that was exactly the reason she was staying with him, he was a puppy , unprotected and unaware of just how dangerous the Games were. She needed to figure out how to keep him safe.

The careers were first, coming in in a clique of deadly teens. They seemed surprised to see two of the weakest Tributes of their Games training with weapons, most weaker Tributes stuck to the survival stations. However, they didn’t bother them too much aside from a few green-eyed smirks thrown in her direction. She realised the boy from 4, Caspian wasn’t with them. 

Next came the Tributes from the higher-up districts, she was pretty sure it was the girl from 3 who was climbing the urban parkour course expertly, and she also noticed the boy from 6 expertly camouflaging his arm. When time started to tick closer to 10, the rest of the Tributes arrived, including the two from 7.

She noticed how they beelined to the fire station, the boy trailing behind the tall girl, blearily rubbing his eyes of sleep.

Peppa nudged Maria’s side. “What do we do?”

“I don’t know,” she replied honestly. “Lets’ go to the fire station as well.”

Peppa nodded in agreement, turning to the weapons rack to put his knife away before stopping short. Paris, the boy from 1, was perusing the racks languidly, one dagger already in hand. He flicked it up and down expertly, fiddling with the blade as if it were a child’s toy. 

“Peppa? What’s wrong?”

Peppa whimpered quietly, curling in on himself. Paris glanced up casually, gazing at the two with cold, analytical eyes. 

Peppa almost dropped his knife, his knees buckling slightly. Maria, seeing this, quickly grasped the small dagger and deposited it and the sickle on the ground next to the dummies they had been practicing on. She led Peppa away from the 18 year old’s gaze, walking without proper direction other than away . 

Peppa’s shoulders relaxed more and more the further away they got from the career pack, and the two found themselves at the fire station.

Joan glanced up apathetically before returning to her task of rubbing her sticks together, smoke blooming from the point of contact. She shuffled a little further away from the two Tributes, but did nothing to make them leave. Oak, kneeling next to her, looked at the two intently, his gaze focusing on the shaken boy from 11, his crossed sticks slack in his small hands.

The instructors had come in without the fuss of yesterday morning, and the fire station instructor waited patiently as she and Peppa kneeled down a safe distance away from the District 7 Tributes, the two older girls bracketing the young boys.

Maria half listened to the instructor as he showed Peppa how to hold the sticks in a criss cross formation, instead focusing on the girl from 7. She debated how to start conversation with the girl.

“It’s rude to stare, you know.” Joan said, not looking up from the small fire she was kindling.

“Sorry.” Maria bit out awkwardly.

“Don’t sweat it,” The girl replied, unbothered. “What do you want?”

“Uh–”

“Come on,” she said, “we can talk somewhere else.” Joan nudged Oak’s shoulder gently as she motioned that she would be leaving for a bit. The boy nodded in acknowledgement. Up close, their bond was stronger than Maria initially thought.

Maria ruffled Peppa’s hair to get his attention before making the same motion and leaving with the girl.

“So,” Joan started, “are you looking for allies?”

“Yes.” Maria replied quickly, noting that they were headed to an empty corner of the room. “I think we can help each other.”

“Really?” Joan raised a dark brow, “‘cause I saw you training, and no offense, you’re not very good.”

“The audience likes me, I’m sure they’d like us four as an alliance.” Maria nodded back towards where Peppa and Oak sat, the two boys chatting easily. 

“True, but I would rather survive on my own without sponsors than risk myself and Oak with the chance of betrayal.”

Annoyance clogged Maria’s throat as Joan brushed her off. Maria narrowed her eyes. “Think on it.” she said, leaving the brash girl in the corner.

[x]

Caspian arrived late with deep eyebags and messy hair. His district partner, Sirene, had knocked him upside the head before dragging him into the sparring ring.

The two circled each other, Caspain blinking lethargically as he held a sleek spear. Sirene wielded a woven net, the complicated weapon manipulated easily in her hands. The two fought wildly, neither having a clear upper hand each time they clashed. Sirene needed close contact to use her net wisely, and Caspian utilised the long range his spear allowed him expertly.

Maria watched as they came together again, the way Caspian planted his feet and blocked a kick from Sirene with his spear before ducking under her arms and swiping the foot she had planted on the floor.

Sirene balanced herself expertly, spinning around the still crouching Caspian to attack him from behind. Her smirk was predatory as she flicked her net out and wrapped it around his torso in a complicated manoeuvre.

Caspian breathed as he struggled against the binds, searching for an out. When he didn’t find one, he spun on his back to face his opponent standing above him and kicked her mercilessly in the stomach with his unbound legs.

Sirene yelped in pain as she staggered back, releasing her hold on the net as she fell to the ground. Caspian shucked off the woven rope easily and grabbed his spear from where it had clattered to the ground.

He leaped up and pointed his spear at Sirene’s jugular, his chest heaving with exertion. Sirene surrendered in annoyance, smacking his hand out of the way when he offered it.

She stomped away, her silky hair shining under the fluorescent lights towards the District 1 Tributes. 

Caspian caught Maria staring and nodded in acknowledgement before turning to greet his fellow careers.

[x]

Peppa had left training early, and only a few stragglers and the careers remained in the training room. 

Maria had returned to her sickle and was slicing at a dummy in the farthest corner away from the careers.

Pausing at the sound of chatter, she saw the pack leave, Paris with his arm slung over Shimmer’s shoulder.

Now, only four Tributes remained in the room.

A boy approached her.

“Hi.” Caspian said, his hands stuffed in his pockets.

“Hi…” Maria replied, cautiously gripping her sickle.

A moment of awkward silence passed.

Caspian’s bronze hair was tousled from his earlier fight, and his sea-green eyes shone with something Maria couldn’t quite place.

“I–” He started, but then the buzzer signalling the end of the session sounded, and Maria took the excuse to leave quickly, brushing past the tall boy and hurrying back to the elevators.

[x]

Dinner was quiet, Peppa had gone to bed, and their Escort was out at a Capitol party for the staff of the Games.

Pomona and Seeder ate silently, their spoons clinking on their bowls as they ate the creamy soup. Jenny would love this, Maria thought, stirring the soup in the shallow dish lethargically, her head resting on her hand.

“Maria, how was training today?” Pomona asked while dessert was served, caramelised plums with a side of ice cream. She was reminded of the morning before the Reaping, her dash through the fields with Rue as they bit down on the fresh fruits she was now given on a silver platter.

“It was fine.” Maria answered, nibbling on a small bite of plum, the flavour tangy-sweet on her tongue. “I spoke to the girl from 7 about an alliance but she seemed unsure.”

Pomona nodded in acceptance, not diving any deeper.

“Peppa has befriended Oak.” Seeder spoke, “an alliance may be closer than it seems.”

[izzysink]

𝒊𝒛𝒛𝒚𝒔𝒊𝒏𝒌𝒔 𝒂𝒐𝟑 𝒇𝒂𝒏𝒇𝒊𝒄 𝒓𝒆𝒄𝒔

𝑎𝑙𝑙 𝑠𝑓𝑤!

𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐥:

Death Before Inaction by hppjmxrgosg

“Fuck off, Nicky.” ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ “Hasn’t anyone ever told you spider-napping is illegal?” ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ “You can’t hold me here, I know my spider-rights.” ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ “God, you guys are so old. What are you? Like 27?” ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ “Scale of 1 to 10, how upset would you be if I told you I banged your mom?” ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Or, I got my grubby little hands on the spider-man time line and fucked around a little bit. Not much (everything) changes.

Peter Parker centric, what if Peter was the more experienced, professional hero? horrifically angsty and hilarious, pretty slow updates but the author is a stem major so it's worth the wait 1000x over!!

𝐝𝐩 𝐱 𝐝𝐜:

the only crossover I will defend with my life <3

Vertical Limit by hppjmxrgosg

Danny Fenton is not okay. TM. Honestly? Just overall bad vibes. But he's doing his best. Making it work. And trying not to become fully dead in the process.

The Justice League is very concerned. But it's actually their fault they got involved so take that one, Batman. John Constantine told them not to do the thing. They did it anyway.

Or, Danny gets summoned by the League, and he actually kind of adopts them in the process. Because these big city heroes don't know anything about ghosts and who is he if he doesn't help them out? Besides, the Watchtower is in space. Danny's always wanted to go to space...

DANNY MY LOVE

𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐲 𝐣𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐬𝐨𝐧:

Falling for You by 1967HogwartsGoddess

In an alternate series of events, Percy saves Annabeth from falling into Tartarus. Too bad he can't save himself. As Annabeth leads the Seven on a treacherous quest to meet him at the Doors of Death, Percy fights through a wasteland of pain, torture and difficult choices.

Surrounded by monsters, alone in the darkest corner of the underworld, he starts to question whether he's a good kid anymore.

what if it was only Percy who fell into Tartarus? this made me cry (;´༎ຶД༎ຶ`)

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐝:

Just Another Monster by EmlynC

Blackened teeth sink into Carl’s shoulder, and the pain is cold as ice.

Carl Grimes centric, I love to torture carl. he can handle it dw

A Different Road by xXQueenofDragonsXx When the Governor attacks the prison, Carl Grimes doesn't escape with his father. He escapes all alone, with only the clothes on his back and a determination to find and reunite with his family. But as the years go on, he doesn't manage to find them. Instead, he comes across a group of people, ones who call themselves the Whisperers, and he joins them, setting off a chain of events he could have never foreseen.

yes king, collect that trauma like Pokemon!

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐠𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬:

The Life Of A Victor by folkloregryffindor

In this alternate universe (AU), where the Capitol successfully quashes the rebellion, Katniss and Peeta find themselves alongside Haymitch as mentors. Surprisingly, the next victor from District 12, emerges triumphant just a few years later, in the 78th Hunger Games. The fanfic delves into his life, the intricacies of his Games, and the aftermath of his victory, all while navigating the challenges of mentoring. As the world begins to stir a new revolution, join the journey through this compelling tale that explores resilience, unexpected triumphs, and the sparks of a burgeoning rebellion.

what can I say? I'm a sucker for hunger games oc fics <3

Mouse by NatalieThatOneNerd

Mice were common creatures inside the homes of District Nine. A constant reminder of their failure during the rebellion. Originally released by their oppressors as a form of biological weapons, it wasn’t uncommon to see their descendant’s scurrying the dirt streets.

When the Capitol learned of them being easily slayed during the war, they modified the failed jabberjays to attack anyone who harmed the disease carriers. A trait that the Mockingjay sadly kept.

To this day the people of Nine can’t go near a mouse without the birds attacking. As after all… what was a Mockingjay without a Mouse by their side?

༻❁༺

pre hunger games, to mockingjay part two

Anona my love ❤️‍🩹

𝐚𝐯𝐚𝐭𝐚𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐚𝐢𝐫 𝐛𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫:

All At Once, Everything is Different, Now That I See You by quillthrills

stuck in her tower for all eighteen years of her life, katara had come to peace with her own lonely, repetitive existence, her only company being her mother, hama. at least, she *was* at peace, until a certain airbending thief happened along her tower, caught her eye, and forever shifted the path of her destiny.

OR: kataangled. and yes, i came up with that brilliant wordplay all on my own.

for day two of kataang week 2024: protectiveness/ bodyguard

cutie patooties <3

birds of a feather by littlerosette

Overall, she’s had a wonderful experience so far; full of light, learning, and friendship. Katara is positive she wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world, especially because of how it brought Aang into her life. But still—

She whirls, too fast, and a gate catches the curve of her shoulder blade. Katara trips over her own foot, crying out in pain, and falls off of the platform, landing solidly onto her back with an oomph!

“Ow,” she whines, unwittingly, as Aang dashes to her in a panic.

It’d be nice to be good at this— actual airbending.

Or:

Avatar Katara is struggling with the Airbending gates. Aang comes up with a plan to help her.

Role Swap AU

agfiesgfahjow (づ￣ ³￣)づ

[trench-knife]

one of my worst writing sins is abusing my power to create compound words. i cannot write the sentence "The sun shone as bright as honey that afternoon." no. that's boring. "The sun was honey-bright that afternoon" however? yes. that sentence is dope as fuck. i do not care if "honey-bright" is a word in the english dictionary. i do not care if the sentence is grammatically correct. i will not change. i will not correct my erred ways. the laws of the english language are mine.

[katarinazurar]

“you’re a writer, right?”

me, staring at the one sentence i’ve managed to add in the last hour and the 12 open tabs on the specifics of shoes in 1845 Ireland: In theory.

[izzysink]

nothing can describe the chokehold Danny Phantom and DC crossovers have over me

[izzysink]

𝐬𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐬

𝑓𝑖𝑛𝑛𝑖𝑐𝑘 𝑜𝑑𝑎𝑖𝑟 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑎𝑛𝑛𝑖𝑒 𝑐𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑎 𝑓𝑟𝑜𝑚 𝑚𝑎𝑔𝑠 𝑓𝑙𝑎𝑛𝑎𝑔𝑎𝑛’𝑠 𝑣𝑖𝑒𝑤

𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑑 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑡: 𝟹𝟻𝟿 ✎ 𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑡𝑢𝑠: 𝑢𝑛𝑒𝑑𝑖𝑡𝑒𝑑 ✎ 𝑚𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡

Snow never fell on her father’s favorite beach.

Tributes came and went like the seaweed on her father’s favorite beach, sticking to her bare feet in the sand as she walked for a time, but as soon as she stepped into the sea, they washed away. Few stay holding on; stubbornly winding between her toes like the sea-salt wind in her graying hair.

Finnick had stuck to her stubbornly like a child on the first day of school, winding tight around her as he fought. But when she came away from the waters, he was tugged away by the harsh rocks and sand at the coast, caught by only a thread that brought him back to her time and again, more damaged each time, losing himself in the gravel of her father’s favorite path.

Annie had washed away more violently than most, only her ability to swim back through the crashing waves bringing her back desperately to Mags’ care. And though she made it back, not even holding Annie gently in her hands, cocooning her in her frail grasp could keep her together completely.

It wasn’t surprising that when they first spoke, they crashed like the water and rocks on her father’s favorite beach, harsh interactions and lulls of terse companionship, waiting for the next wave to arrive.

It wasn’t surprising that when they spoke a second time, they sat like the piles of shells on her father’s favorite beach, delicate and both so easily broken by passers by, picked up in interest before cast back down to each other without a thought.

It wasn’t surprising that when they spoke a third time, they came and went together like the tide and the moon on her father’s favorite beach.

It wasn’t surprising that when the sea faltered, the moon would pick up the waves and sea-foam like the treasures on her father’s favorite beach. It wasn’t surprising that when the moon fell, the sea would follow him back down, reaching out and knocking on his door when he returned; kissing his hand and every crater left by space.

Snow would never fall on her father’s favorite beach.

“I volunteer.”

𝒔𝒏𝒐𝒘 𝒅𝒐𝒆𝒔, 𝒊𝒏 𝒇𝒂𝒄𝒕, 𝒇𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒐𝒏 𝒃𝒆𝒂𝒄𝒉𝒆𝒔

[izzysink]

𝑹𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒔𝒐𝒅𝒚, 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒉𝒖𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒓 𝒈𝒂𝒎𝒆𝒔

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟒: 𝑇𝑅𝐴𝐼𝑁𝐼𝑁𝐺 𝐷𝐴𝑌 1

𝒊’𝒎 𝒋𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒂 𝒑𝒐𝒐𝒓 𝒃𝒐𝒚, 𝒊 𝒏𝒆𝒆𝒅 𝒏𝒐 𝒔𝒚𝒎𝒑𝒂𝒕𝒉𝒚

𝑚𝑖𝑙𝑑 𝑡𝑤: 𝑝𝑎𝑠𝑡 𝑡𝑒𝑒𝑛 𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑔𝑛𝑎𝑛𝑐𝑦 + 𝑚𝑐 𝑖𝑠 𝑎 𝑡𝑒𝑒𝑛 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑒𝑛𝑡 - 𝐼 𝑑𝑜 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑚𝑒𝑎𝑛 𝑡𝑜 𝑟𝑜𝑚𝑎𝑛𝑡𝑎𝑠𝑖𝑠𝑒 𝑡𝑒𝑒𝑛 𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑔𝑛𝑎𝑛𝑐𝑦 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑖𝑡 𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅𝒏’𝒕 𝑏𝑒 𝑟𝑜𝑚𝑎𝑛𝑡𝑎𝑠𝑖𝑠𝑒𝑑

𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ✎ 𝐚𝐨𝟑 𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐤 ✎ 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 ✎ 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫

Maria woke up sore and alone, a knowledge in the back of her mind that if she moved her head it would send pain shooting down her spine. Pushing herself up from marble floors carefully, she noticed she was in the bathroom of her quarters. Her back cracked and her neck ached. She supposed that was what she got from sleeping on the floor. 

When she went to open the door, consciously avoiding the mirror, it swung open, and the face of a stoic Avox quickly turned into shock as they realised Maria was in the nude.

Maria slammed the door in their face.

Wonderful.

She waited to hear the Avox scurry out of the room before she tried to open the door again, noting the training outfit laid out on her made bed. It was grey and red, made out of lycra with a stretchy fit.

Quickly changing, she went to have breakfast, absent-mindedly wondering what time it was. 

Pomona was at the table already, but no one else was. She was early. “Good morning Maria,” she said, reaching across the table for some butter for her toast. “You're up early, I heard it was a long day for you.” She flashed her a knowing glance. “Caligula has a more… brutal, sense of style, I hope the hospital stay wasn’t too stressful”

“How many people know about me?” Maria sat down across from her, not touching any food as the memory of yesterday zapped her appetite.

“Only those who need to know, the Gamemakers want to keep the Tributes as real as possible to the audience.” Pomona looked at Maria’s empty plate. “Eat up, training starts today, and I need you in top shape for the arena.” 

The quiet sound of the bustling Capitol outside filled the air as the two ate in silence.

Pomona spoke again, “I want you to memorise all of the other Tributes, I want you to know their names, their ages, and their strengths and weaknesses by heart at the end of the day. Training starts at 10, most Tributes will get there early but you have an hour before you’ll stand out by arriving late.” Pomona rose from her chair, “I suggest you watch the Reaping tapes.” 

The echo of Pomona’s footsteps broke the blanket of quietness that surrounded them.

Finishing the slice of bread she had been nibbling on, Maria moved to the circle couch on the other side of the room, the big TV opposite it buzzing to life. Pomona had left tapes of all of the Reapings on the inconveniently low coffee table, and Maria pushed in the first one.

The Tributes of District 1 were volunteers, obviously, both 18, and both equally deadly. A boy, Paris and a girl, Shimmer. 

So were the Tributes of District 2, though the boy, magnificently tall and built like an ox did strike a chord of fear into her. She was going into the arena with him? The girl, Bellona, was also tall, but even she looked small next to him. The boy was called Romulus. 

District 3 was different, their district had acted out more during the Rebellion and so didn’t have the privilege of being careers. Tribute training wasn’t allowed, but the Districts with more favour from the Capitol seemed to have leeway; Districts 1, 2, and 4. The Tributes of District 3; Bug and Alexa, seemed like ants in comparison to the other Tributes she’d seen, but Maria knew not to sweep them under the rug. Though they hadn’t any training, they were almost guaranteed to be clever, and a well-fed, clever Tribute was something to be very afraid of.

District 4 was more of the same, a bronze haired boy, Caspian, who looked strangely familiar for a reason she couldn't quite place, and Sirene, an enchantingly beautiful girl.

District 5 was similar to District 3, Watt and Dynamo.

District 6, Ahim and Kia.

District 7, Oak and Joan. Oak looked no older than 10. 

District 8 was where she started to see equals, both Tributes were rake thin and hollow-eyed, Tassel and Lacey, a blond boy and a delicate girl.

District 9, Harvey and Farrah. The boy broke down in tears when his name was called and had to be dragged to the stage.

District 10, Chop and Buckie.

District 11. 

Did she want to watch? She decided not to.

District 12, Abraham and Daisy. Both of them were filthy; hair caked in soot and fingernails stained black. They looked eerily similar, down to their stick-thin legs and olive skin. Maria decided she needn’t worry about them.

[x]

The sounds of swords clashing and projectiles thumping seeped through the door to the training room. She was late. The door whooshed open automatically, giving way to a grey and steel room. 

All of the careers were at the weapons area as expected, deathly precise with their current choices. She recognised Bellona from 2 beheading a training dummy with her sword, a morbid display of grace as she did a twirl to offset the momentum of her attack. The girl caught her staring. She smirked at Maria as if she were already dead, her cannon booming in the arena.

Most of the other Tributes were at the numerous survival stations, unsupervised as they had arrived early, and were trying their hand at building fires or setting traps.

She saw Oak from 7 kneeling next to his district partner, watching as she whittled down a stick to a short spear. The girl didn’t look too pleased at having a tail, but did nothing to make him leave as he tried to copy her actions with his own stick and knife.

Maria counted 20 people in the room including herself, deducing that the Tributes from 12 were nowhere to be seen, as well as Peppa, and one other she couldn’t place.

Maria made her way to a survival station for first aid. Without an instructor there she wouldn’t get very far. She saved the station for later.

Instead, she found herself at the rope station; there were diagrams for numerous different knots along a table next to a box of ropes. She stayed there, attempting to make a slip knot with varying success.

She didn’t know why she’d need knots in the arena, she didn’t know how to hunt and she sure wasn’t gonna hang someone. But truthfully she didn’t know where to start. She had no idea how to handle a weapon, she couldn’t set traps, and would probably need extensive help from a trainer for that, and she didn't know how she could prepare herself for the arena. There would be no diagrams in the arena, no trainers to wait for when she hurt herself. 

The clock struck 10. A woman came out from a doorway on the other side of the room, and high up in the wall; a window was unveiled by a mechanical curtain made to blend into the surroundings seamlessly. The Gamemakers. 

“Alright everybody! Gather around, I want you all to listen very carefully because I will not be repeating myself, is that clear?” The woman eyed all of the children surrounding her, “Good. My fellow instructors and I will be manning the survival stations and the weapons area. All instructors are experts in their fields and we will try to help you as best we can in the next three days.” She started to patrol the group, looking each one of them up and down. “The rules are as follows: no maiming until the arena,” she looked pointedly at the career pack. “No threatening staff, and most of all, work hard. Off you go.” 

Everybody dispersed immediately back to where they were previously, getting tutelage from the trainers now sat at each station. 

Maria felt a tug on her wrist, looking for the source, she saw Peppa had found his way down to the training room. 

“Train with me?” He asked timidly, he opened his mouth to say more but couldn’t seem to find the words. 

“I was just at the rope station, would you like to come back there with me?” Maria said kindly, not expecting a verbal answer as she guided him gently to the table with the basket of ropes. Peppa nodded.

“I didn’t realise we’d be this close to them before…” Peppa trailed off. 

Maria hummed as she picked up her abandoned slip knot. “If you don’t bother them, they won’t bother you, though this is a good time to try and get an ally if you fancy.” 

“Will you be my ally?” Peppa looked at her shyly.

“Of course I will, District 11 stays together.”

“Together, I like that.” Peppa picked up his own rope, invigorated.

“Me too.” Her knot came together seamlessly.

[x]

“Has Seeder told you to learn the other Tributes?” Maria and Peppa had moved to the first aid station, and were practicing tourniquets on each other. 

Peppa bit his lip, twisting the small tube of metal they had been given for the tourniquet. “She said to, but I haven’t looked at the tapes yet.” 

“That's fine, the careers are over in the weapon area, all six of them, can you see?” Maria pointed.

“Yeah, the big one looks like trouble.”

“Yeah, his name’s Romulus if I remember correctly.” Maria pointed to the fire station, “those two are from 7, the boy is Oak and the older girl is Joan.”

Peppa fiddled with a bandage. “He looks nice.” 

“He does, do you want to ally with him as well?” Maria asked, giving the decision to Peppa.

“Maybe, the girl looks good too.” Maria watched her effortlessly light a fire with two sticks.

“You’re right, we should talk to them tomorrow, how does that sound?” She turned back to Peppa.

“Yeah, let's do that.”

[x]

“Again.”

They were sat in one of the many lounges on their floor of the CTC, Peppa and Seeder in another room similar to theirs. Training.

Maria watched from the couch as her mentor paced the room thoughtfully. “District 1, Paris and Shimmer; both 18, both deadly.”

“Good, District 7.” Pomona had been testing her on her fellow Tributes for what felt like hours, Maria felt she could recite their whole families. “Maria? District 7.”

“Sorry, I zoned out. District 7, Oak and Joan, Oak is 12 and Joan is 15. Peppa likes them, so they’re possible allies as well.”

Pomona grinned at her. “Strategic, I like it.” 

“Strategic how?”

“District 7 is lumber, and like District 11, their children work young. The boy may not know how to wield an axe, but the girl will.” Pomona sat next to Maria, grasping her hands. “You don't have to ally with the boy, you know, if we can find you a skill to use in the arena I think you have a good shot at making it on your own. The media loves the fact you have a daughter, and the Capitol audience loved your show in the Parade, so you’re bound to get sponsors. But, you can get away with not being with him for the games.”

Maria frowned at her, “why would I not want to ally with Peppa? He’s—”

Pomona sighed through her nose and tightened her hold on Maria's hands, trapping them in. “He’s young. It's most likely that he won't make it very far. It's best you ally with the girl from 7, or even better, get into the careers ranks."

Discomfort and anger bubbled in Maria’s gut, how could she say that? 

She pulled her hands away. “We’re staying together.” She said quietly, imploring Pomona with her eyes before leaving the room to prevent herself from saying something she would regret.

“Maria!” Pomona hissed, getting up from the couch. “All I’m saying is that he’ll hold you down, don’t you want to get back to your daughter?”Pomona gripped her arm, pulling her back to face her mentor.

“Do not bring my daughter into this. Do you hear me?” Maria’s voice was icy, her teeth bared, daring Pomona to argue further.

Pomona rolled her eyes, opening her mouth to retort.

“Do. You. Hear me?” She poked the woman in the chest, getting in the mentor's space as rage simmered inside her. “Not a day goes by when I don’t think of coming back to her. I don’t want you to think for even a second that once I get into that arena I won’t—”

“Maria?” Peppa came out of the opposite room, looking between her and Pomona timidly, he must have heard them from outside the door. “What's going on?” 

Immediately her face softened, her posture relaxing as she turned her back to her mentor to kneel in front of her short companion, “I’m fine honey, why aren’t you with Seeder?”

“We finished for the day, she says that getting an alliance with Oak and what's-her-face would be good.” Peppa smiled bashfully, and Maria giggled.

“Oak and Joan.” She brushed a strand of untamable hair away from his face, “It’s getting late, and it was a big day for training, I think tomorrow we’ll hit the weapons area instead of the survival stations, that sound okay?”

“Yeah.”

Maria held his hand. “Let’s go to bed then.”

[x]

On Maria’s first night of actually sleeping in her new bed, she couldn’t sleep. Thoughts of Peppa being hurt or injured plagued her mind. Herself being killed because of his weakness, or even worse, Maria being the cause of his death. 

Not making it back to Briar and Jenny was inconceivable to her, but winning the Games was even more of an impossibility. How could she, Maria Laurier, outlive all 23 of the other Tributes?

Something Pomona had said earlier echoed in her mind. An alliance with the careers would keep her alive exponentially, but there was no way she could plausibly achieve that. Or, maybe she could. The Capitol loved her so far, and she was sure she could get sponsors if she knocked the interviews out of the park. She wasn’t all that present during the Tribute Parade, the shock of the previous days still infesting all of her waking hours. The Interviews could be planned for, if she could make the Capitol attached, they wouldn’t want her gone, and the careers could be lured by possible sponsor gifts.

A Tribute from District 4 won that way a few years ago, Finnick Odair. She didn’t think he would be a mentor this year, as he was only 14 when he won. In fact he was probably only a year older her right now. What a thought. 

Though, she thought, he had been a career, and had the skills to use the gifts he was given to slaughter his competition mercilessly in record time. Maria doubted she could do that.

But that led to the thought: why would she want to ally with the careers? Yes, they could keep her alive in the beginning, but alliances could be broken, especially later in the Games when there weren’t many people left. And she was sure they would kill her in a heartbeat if they wanted to. 

It was better if she and Peppa stayed together, and reaped the sponsor gifts from the notoriety they gained in the Parade.

Adrenaline ran softly in her veins. She had a plan, and there was no way she could sleep after making a literally life changing decision.

Seeder had mentioned that there was roof access in the building, but it was a bit of a maze to get up without being on the top floor. That didn’t matter, she had all night.

She slipped her feet into cloud like slippers she'd found in her closet earlier that night. She deliberated putting on proper clothes instead of coming out in her pyjamas, the soft cotton shorts and t-shirt she wore wouldn’t protect her from the cold if it was windy. She decided not to. 

Slipping out of her room silently, she paused at Peppa’s door opposite hers. Was he awake as well? She wondered if he would’ve liked to join her, but the soft snores she heard from the other side of the door made the decision for her. She smiled to herself before padding down the hall to the elevators to take her up.

[x]

Soft wind whistled through wind chimes in a rose garden on one side of the roof, the rest was empty except for a few maintenance boxes and a bench overlooking the Capitol in front of the glass rails lining the edge of the roof.

She thought she would be alone, but the glow of bronze hair caught her eye as the boy from Four came into view. She turned around to leave. She had no intention of an alliance with the careers, as if she could get one, and she didn’t want trouble before she even entered the arena.

“You can stay, I don’t mind.”

Her skin prickled with goosebumps. How should she respond? “It’s okay, I only came up for some air.” She mumbled, reaching her hand to open the access door. 

He took a step forward. “Please, stay?”

She frowned. “Why?” 

He grinned, charmingly crooked teeth flashing at her. “Why not?”

“I can think of a few reasons, actually.”

He huffed good naturedly. “And here I thought you were Lawfully Blond before the Academy.”

“Who?” 

“Jeez, you really are District aren’t you.”

“I don’t appreciate boys telling me what I am and am not. Not everybody has a TV. Even in District 4.” Out of spite, she opened the door and began to descend the steps down to the elevators before he could fit another word in.

“Okay, I’m sorry, I just need to speak to someone who isn’t my brother or Sirene for once my whole stay here apart from bloody Flickerman.”

His brother? Did he get to have his brother here? Maria saw red. How could he, someone almost guaranteed to win, get to have family come with him, when Briar, her baby, her daughter, who needed her to survive, had to stay in District 11?

Spinning on her heel she found herself face to face with the boy, he had followed her and had blocked her exit back onto the roof. “How?” she asked, grabbing his arm in a death grip. She needed answers.

He looked at her confused, furrowing his stupidly perfect eyebrows. “How what?” 

“How did you get your brother into the Capitol? I couldn’t even get my own daughter here. So why, the fuck, do you get your stupid brother when my daughter has to die slowly because I can’t feed her from half across the bloody country?!” without realising, she had backed him against the rail. It was almost comical, he was at least 5 centimeters taller than her, and looked significantly stronger as well, his sleep shirt did nothing to hide the lean strength he possessed in his arms and torso. And he had allowed himself to be backed up to a ledge on a 12 story building by a girl from District 11.

He looked at her, obviously amused by her unexpected outburst. “Trust me, I want him here about as much as you do, but when your brother’s Finnick Odair, you can learn a thing or two about winning. More than you can from the oldies anyway.”

Maria’s breathing calmed as she put two and two together. Oh. she must have not heard his last name when he was reaped. “You asked me to stay. Why?”

He chucked, “I told you, I want someone to talk to, and you look like someone who can listen. Or at least, you did.”

She looked at him blankly, “Ha ha. Very funny.”

“Sit with me.” Caspian grasped her hand, leading her towards it. She ripped her hand out of his grip, but followed anyway.

A warm July breeze listened as the two Tributes talked, tentatively at first, but soon they realised they had much more in common than they thought. Maria learnt about the fishing boat Caspian sailed on with his brother; apparently the elder Odair hadn’t wanted to stop working and bought a boat with his Victor's earnings, and Caspian heard all about Briar, and The Orchard, and even her annoyance on the years rising fruit prices, "I picked it, why should I have to buy it for five times what I was paid?" Caspian had readily agreed with her. In District 4, if you didn’t own a fishing boat and took some of your yield for yourself, the only way to eat fish was to catch it in the shallows or buy it for extortionate prices. Though recreational fishing was forbidden, there was a significant black market that Peacekeepers often turned a blind eye to.

“You know, I think you and Finnick would get along great. You’ve got that same… brooding quality.” Caspian said, leaning back against the bench to look at the grey sky — the light pollution in the Capitol was so prevalent that the nights weren’t even fully dark. Unlike District 11 with its sprawling fields and no lights for miles; the stars were constant, winking at Maria and her little family nightly. She missed the stars.

“Finnick Odair is capable of brooding? Also, I don’t brood.” She frowned at him. “Do I?”

He laughed, “you so do, but yeah, not on camera, obviously, but sometimes on the water he’ll just sit at the prow and stay there for hours. Brooding.”

Maria yawned and stretched her back, satisfying pops releasing the tension from her shoulders. “Well, I think I’m gonna hit the sack, I’ve got to get Peppa up in time for training.”

“Peppa’s the kid right? He’s cute.”

She smiled, “yeah, he’s sweet, reminds me of a friend back home. Anyway.” she stood up, offering her hand to Caspian. “Have a nice night. I’ll see you in the morning.”

He stood as well. “You too, I’m gonna stay out here a little longer before I head in, it’s a long elevator ride,” he joked, leaning against the rail.

She rolled her eyes at him good naturedly before heading down stairs, the door shutting with a click .

He stood there for a while, staring at the door she had disappeared behind. He sighed and rubbed his face with his hands, as if he could rub away the thought of her from his mind. Fuck .

[x]

Maria stood in the elevator as it descended to the 11th floor. Had she just made a friend? And a career at that?

What was wrong with her?!

Headcannon: the capitol has movies but they're altered to be more aligned with the capitol. So Legally Blond at Harvard becomes Lawfully Blond at the Academy.

The reason why Caspian knows about it is that victors (or at least victors in high-up districts) have access to capitol TV, and Finnick had Caspian and the rest of the family move in. (Finnick does not know Annie at this point so their possible living situation doesn't affect this atm)

bye!!

[izzysink]

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓:

↜ 𝑯𝒖𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒓 𝑮𝒂𝒎𝒆𝒔

✎ 𝐫𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐬𝐨𝐝𝐲

↜ 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑾𝑨𝑳𝑲𝑰𝑵𝑮 𝑫𝑬𝑨𝑫

✎ 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠

[izzysink]

𝑹𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒔𝒐𝒅𝒚, 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒉𝒖𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒓 𝒈𝒂𝒎𝒆𝒔

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟑: 𝑇𝐻𝐸 𝐶𝐴𝑃𝐼𝑇𝑂𝐿

𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒏 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒆𝒚𝒆𝒔, 𝒍𝒐𝒐𝒌 𝒖𝒑 𝒕𝒐 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒌𝒊𝒆𝒔 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒔𝒆𝒆.

𝑡𝑤: 𝑛𝑜𝑛-𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑠𝑒𝑛𝑠𝑢𝑎𝑙 𝑏𝑜𝑑𝑦 𝑚𝑜𝑑𝑖𝑓𝑖𝑐𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛𝑠 𝑝𝑒𝑟𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑚𝑒𝑑 𝑜𝑛 𝑎 𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑜𝑟 + 𝑝𝑎𝑠𝑡 𝑡𝑒𝑒𝑛 𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑔𝑛𝑎𝑛𝑐𝑦 + 𝑚𝑐 𝑖𝑠 𝑎 𝑡𝑒𝑒𝑛 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑒𝑛𝑡 - 𝐼 𝑑𝑜𝑛'𝑡 𝑚𝑒𝑎𝑛 𝑡𝑜 𝑟𝑜𝑚𝑎𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑠𝑖𝑠𝑒 𝑡𝑒𝑒𝑛 𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑔𝑛𝑎𝑛𝑐𝑦 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑖𝑡 𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅𝒏’𝒕 𝑏𝑒 𝑟𝑜𝑚𝑎𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑠𝑖𝑠𝑒𝑑

𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ✎ 𝐚𝐨𝟑 𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐤 ✎ 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 ✎ 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫

“So, Maria, tell me about yourself.” Caligula sat with one leg over the other. Tattoos resembling tortoise shell patterns covered almost all of her skin, and she wore a slinky, sheer dress to showcase just how much the tattoos covered her body, only having opaque areas in the dress where necessary for public decency. She had a roman nose and a straight back. She exuded nobility but smirked too much to be considered proper. 

“Um, I’m 17... I live with my sister, and I work in The Orchard.”

“No no dear, I need something to work with, give me something that can make you different.” Caligula leaned forwards, closer to Maria with every word. Maria simmered in discomfort.

“I have a daughter?” 

Caligula’s face split into a wicked grin. “That, I can work with.”

[x]

“The image we’re going for is a sort of ‘housewife’ aesthetic, it's quite old, I believe it's from before the floods, but what we want mainly is a motherly kind of feel; familiarity. So I’m thinking of putting you into something that was in style around this generation's childhood. Among other things of course. . . Hm, we’ll cinch you in at the waist and give you a hoop skirt, oh! If we can get clearance on such short notice we’ll give your breasts some help too- Mannon send that toot-suite to the surgeons-”

“Yes, Caligula.”

“Excuse me, surgeons?”

“Yes dear. Now, I’m thinking pastels.”

Caligula had been loudly brainstorming for almost 20 minutes while circling around Maria, who had been stood on a pedestal in the nude and told not to move or cover herself for all of that time.

It was hard not to look at herself in the polished floor length mirror, so large it spanned the whole wall of the styling room. She was obviously underfed, and having birthed a child during her most developmental years hadn’t done her any good either. Her face was pretty, and one of the people on her Prep-team, Justice, had commented positively on her legs, "if only they didn’t have so much hair!"

Having only ever breastfed Briar, her chest showed signs of motherhood, and though she was insecure of the stretch marks on her stomach and her breasts that sagged  with prolonged feeding, she couldn’t imagine herself without the signs of Brair’s survival.

It was six in the morning. Maria had gotten off of the train nine hours earlier and had slept like a baby in her fluffy bed when she was herded to her new room on the 11th floor of the Tribute Building.

Guilt gnawed at her stomach. Jenny and Briar were sleeping on worn blankets back home.

The Capitol Tribute Centre (abbreviated to the CTC) was made up of three buildings, one to house the Tributes, one for the stylists, interviews, and media (this building also had an underground train to the stables outside of the Capitol Building for the Tribute Parade) and one to house the Training Centre. Chastity had explained this to Maria painfully in her squeaky voice, insisting it was ‘knowhow’ she wasn’t going to let her Tributes be without, and that District 12’s didn’t even know what pink was. How it was so terribly important Maria didn’t know, she would be dead within the week, why should she know which building has what when she was escorted by Avoxs  everywhere she went. 

Maria hadn’t known what they were when she arrived at the District 11 suite and was greeted by one at almost every corner, staring blankly into space. Chastity had explained briefly with disdain that they were criminals, but Maria couldn’t see why they showed such obvious signs of timidness. And why not any of them made a sound.

The girl she had said thanked for waking her that morning and opening her window had looked so utterly terrified she had apologised immediately, which only caused the girl to bow hurriedly and scurry out of the room.

“Does the Prep-team have her measurements?” 

“Yes, and I have approval for the alterations if we take her to medical within the next hour.”

“Thank you Mannon,” Caligula whirled around and addressed Maria directly for the first time since she stood on the pedestal. “Chistery can escort you to the medical centre, Mannon and I are to confer with the boy Tribute’s Stylist and find a common theme to match you both. After tea, you’ll be back from medical and we can start fitting you in your dress!” Caligula shook out a fluffy gown to wrap around Maria’s shoulders and pushed her off of the pedestal and into Chistery’s arms. “Chop chop! I have a vision here!”

[x]

“Why am I going to medical?” 

She and Chistery stood inside an elevator with peppy music surrounding them. Chistery seemed to be a different character than the folks she had met in the Capitol so far, not disdainful like Chastity or as horrifically intrusive as Claligula. Instead, he was quiet and rather reserved, and only really spoke to her when needed. Though that could be because he was disgusted by her ‘Districtness’. 

He was a tall man, he wore wide legged pants with black rhinestone suspenders over a white silk shirt and tastefully large earrings. She noted that he had topped the look off with platform shoes which only enhanced his height. Next to him, the top of her head only reached his chest.

Chistery looked down at her. “Caligula wants to augment your breasts, they should be healed by the time for fittings.”

“I don’t want to be changed.”

“Tough luck, sweetheart." His voice was strange, his deep bass not matching well with the mannerisms of the Capitol accent, and the words he used were much more down to earth than any of his colleagues.

“I’m sorry?” Maria looked up at him incredulously, an ugly feeling bubbling in her gut.

“Whatever Caligula wants, Caligula gets; she’s the Head Stylist and has the authority to change your skin if she wants to.” Chistery’s face flickered with pity. “If it were up to me, I would only pad your dress, but as we have a whole day to prepare you for the Parade the Stylists can do what they please.”

“But you’re a Stylist too, aren’t you?”

“In a way, but I’m just a member of the Prep-Team.”

Just as Maria was to ask the difference between the two, the doors to the elevator pinged open and Chistery walked out in long strides, not looking back to see if Maria could keep up. 

[x]

The potent smell of antiseptic invaded her nose as they entered the Medical Centre. It was like all the other buildings in the CTC, with high ceilings and sterile white walls. Doctors milled about, but there weren’t many patients, seeing as there weren’t many accidents happening during Parade day.

None of the doctors and nurses paid any mind to them as Chistery led her through the waiting room towards what was labelled as the Plastic Surgery Hall. “What’s plastic surgery?”

Chistery didn't acknowledge her question as he led her down twisting hallways with doors on each side.

Maria’s face soured. “I want to know what's going to happen to me.”

“The doctors are legally required to explain if you ask.” Chistery answered dismissively. “This is as far as I go, knock on the door on the right and state your name and role—”

“What’s my role?”

He rolled his eyes. “What are you here for?”

Maria stayed silent, glaring up at him.

“Your role is Female Tribute: District 11, say it clearly and wait for the door to open, your surgeon will take over from there.” He strode away without another word.

Maria watched him leave, not moving towards the door until he was out of her sight.

She knocked on the door to her right, “Maria Laurier, Female Tribute: District 11.”

No answer. The silence stretched on behind the door and she began to think it was empty.

The door on the left opened, and a lavender skinned girl popped her head out of it. “Come in, Dr. Boucheron would prefer to use this room for you.” She opened the door wider then retreated into the room again.

Maria stood there, unmoving. She didn’t want to be changed, were they going to do it anyway? She had heard of the Victors getting alterations once they had won, but they were Victors. She was a Tribute. A lamb to the slaughter.

“Are you coming?” 

Maria looked down the hall left and right. The Plastic Surgery sector of the hospital was empty. There was a turn at the end of the corridor. 

Before she could process it, her body had broken out into a run, bare feet pounding against the marble floors. 

Half-turning to look behind her, she could see the girl from before staring at her intently from the doorway, speaking into a device in her hand. 

Nurses came from the corner Maria was aiming for. Backing up, she tried to run the other way, but she was picked up and manhandled by a hulking man whom she hadn’t realised was behind her. “Let me go!” She thrashed in his arms, kicking and screaming. 

The purple girl came up to them. “Now, now Maria, everything is going to be alright—”

Maria kicked her in the nose and the girl yelped.

“Knock her out! I want her under anaesthetic pronto!”

The world went black.

[x]

Consciousness came back to her slowly, though she couldn’t open her eyes. Her tongue felt heavy in her mouth, her eyelids weighing tons. 

“Go back to sleep darling, you’ll be all healed up in time for tea, don’t you worry.”

[x]

Her eyes flickered open, immediately blinded by the bright light shining above her. 

“Oh! Sorry Miss, I’ll lower the brightness for you.” This was a new voice, clipped and sympathetic. 

Where was she?

“The Medical Centre in the CTC, Miss.”

Oh.

Her bed rose automatically, bringing her into a sitting position. 

“Your surgery was postponed because of the scene you caused, I’ve had your dinner delivered here so you can rest before your fittings.”

Maria blinked at the short woman sat on a raised chair next to her bed. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, now, I do believe introductions are in order. I am Dr. Hero Boucheron, what is your name?” The doctor was fair skinned, and had a black, pin-straight bob on her head.  

Maria looked at her, confused. “Don’t you already know my name?” 

“Don’t you already know mine?”

Recognition sparked in her eyes. This was the Dr. Boucheron, the acclaimed best doctor of the generation in the Capitol. Most famous for nursing last year's Victor back to health after exiting the arena with a deathly injury. What was she doing in alterations?

“Names have power, never let anybody assume they know yours. I ask again, Miss, what is your name?”

“Maria Laurier, doctor.” 

Dr. Boucheron winked conspiratorially. “Thank you, Miss Laurier, here is your dinner.” She handed Maria a tray of delicious Capitol food. A plate of steak was the main, and a glass of water sat off to the side as well as aperitifs and a small mousse for dessert. 

As Maria dug in (she had taken Pomona’s advice to heart) she quietly observed her bare arms. They were spotless. Literally. Any marks or scars that littered her arms from working in The Orchard were gone, even the mark from the first time she held a sickle had disappeared.

“What did you do to me?” 

Dr. Boucheron had left her side, and was organising bottles on her desk when she asked the question. “Oh nothing too drastic, we only had clearance to fine-tune your skin and alter your breasts on the outside.”

“What have you done to me? I have the right to know.”

“In the Capitol you have no rights Miss Laurier, you're District.” Dr. Boucheron looked at her in pity as her thin lips curled in either pity or disgust. “I simply removed some excess skin and tightened the rest, implants aren’t authorised for the arena.”

Maria stayed silent, feeling bile rise up in her throat. Suddenly the steak didn’t look so appetising anymore.

[x]

Maria gasped breathlessly when Justice pulled on the corset cinches. Her Prep-Team surrounded her, each tying and tightening strings on the garments she was wearing. The dress was simple, and rather similar to her Reaping dress, but this one was purposefully créme and made of pure cotton. It was ruched at the sweetheart neckline and had off the shoulder straps.

On top of the dress, Caligula had given her an underbust corset with rose patterned stitching the same colour as the corset material. They had then given her layered skirts, all of which came up in a swoop to connect to the corset at one place or another, making the garment look free flowing. The skirts were all lightly coloured, and had a silky sheen.

The material flowed with her legs, caressing her ankles where the dress ended sweetly. Caligula had given her strappy sandal heels, the heel wide enough she could walk without risk of rolling an ankle. 

“As District 11 is the flower producer of Panem, I thought it would be a nice change from the vegetation theme of last year to have a floral theme, you see in the corset she has subtle stitching resembling climbing roses. Will most people notice? No! But somebody will, and that is the most important person observing your work. 

“The Gamemakers have hinted at starting a yearly museum with all of the garments and such from that year's Games. If that were to happen, we cannot be lazy with our art, it is imperative...” 

Caligula had been spewing on and on to Mannon about every step and piece of symbolism and thought in her dress. Chistery had told her quietly when he was sewing on her straps that Mannon was an Apprentice Stylist, and would be taking over for the next Games while Caligula retired to high Capitol life. This confused Maria greatly, Caligula only looked to be in her 20s, hardly old enough to retire. And Chistery himself looked to be older than her, how was he not retired? 

Caligula looked up at the digital clock on the wall, on a countdown to the final call for Tributes to the underground train to the Parade Centre. “Oh look at that, right on time. Off you go, to the train!”

Maria was herded by her Prep-Team into a side room where Pomona, Seeder and Peppa waited. As soon as she walked in they paused. “Well, don’t you just look like a flower in bloom.” Pomona tucked a braid behind her ear as she gazed at the girl. Odysseus from her Prep-Team had rebraided her hair astonishingly quickly into micro braids while her makeup was being done by Justice. They flowed down her back in a cascade of dark hair, and a few braids had been tied to create a rose at the back of her head.

Peppa stared at her slack-jawed. He himself was wearing a cream, short-sleeve button up with same colour embroidery all over it, climbing ivy all over his chest. For trousers the Stylists had given him light-wash overalls with pieces of cloth the same material as her over-skirts draped artistically from the pockets. It didn’t look like they had done much to him physically except from washing and trimming his hair. 

Pomona looked at her watch. “The deadline for the train is in 5 minutes, let's go.”

[x]

Light flooded her senses as their chariot entered the atrium, stage lights shining in her face from every angle. The adoring screams of the Capitol citizens in the stands deafened her. Pomona had told her to make a good impression, so she did. Waving and smiling graciously at the Capitol elite, she even blew a kiss to a man on the bottom row.

Bile rose in her throat.

Peppa, on the other hand, wasn’t feeling too well. Maria could see him shaking in her peripheral vision. “What is it?” She murmured. Peppa glanced up at her, “I think I’m motion sick, I can’t see, I miss my mum. Multiple things, actually.” He smiled weakly in humour at her. Maria gazed at him in understanding. “You can get through this, I know you can.” She wrapped an arm around his shoulder, giving him something steady to lean against.

A roar erupted from the crowd. Bringing her gaze back to the Parade.

There on the screens, she and Peppa were in full view. 

[x]

When the Parade was over, she and her district team all sat around the table, drinking tea and nibbling biscuits. Including her Escort, Chastity. “It’s simply wonderful, darling, that my Tributes were the stars of the show!” Chastity focused her large, bug-like eyes on Maria. “Oh! And you were extraordinary! I must thank Caligula for her exemplary styling, I dare say she turned you into quite the swan, and I have to know who your surgeon was, I’ve been dying for a new set you know.”

Maria looked at her questioningly, “a new set?”

“Why of course darling! Gosh! I mean— the last time I had alterations was a year ago, can you believe it! And that was only to top up my lips!” Chastity went to touch her shoulder in camaraderie, but came short when she realised her mistake, placing her hand band into her lap gently.

Though Maria felt she should have been offended; for one, Chastity couldn’t even bear to touch her because of her being District, and for another, she spoke so openly about alterations Maria hadn’t even agreed to as if she were a friend discussing hair styles. Well of course, no friend of Maria's would have that god-awful accent. She could only find it in herself to feel a pit of an emotion she couldn’t explain growing in her gut. “I think I’m going to have an early night, big day tomorrow after all.” She smiled tightly at everyone before getting out of her seat and stiffly walked to her room. 

Chastity hummed and took a sip of her tea, earl grey with honey and a dash of milk. “I wonder what that was about.” 

[x]

Her room for the next few days was even bigger than her cabin in the train, it held a large wardrobe along an entire wall, and had a sunken area in the middle that housed her bed. The bed was huge, bigger than she had ever seen, though that wasn’t much to go off of, and felt like a pile of clouds. The other side of the room was devoid of furniture, but had an entire wall-encompassing screen which was controlled either by the panel in the wall or by a remote control. 

The wall-screen had multiple settings, including forest scapes, deserts, and even a cityscape of the Capitol outside of the building; It also had a mirror function. 

Shedding the dress, she tossed it carelessly into a corner of the room, and went to the wardrobe to find some sleep clothes. Caligula hadn’t given her undergarments, claiming she didn’t need them. Glancing around the room, Maria noticed the wall-screen had been set to mirror in her absence. 

Sick rose in her throat.

It was gone. All of it. Briar was gone.

The stretch marks on her stomach were gone, and the small amount of loose skin she had around her belly was gone as well. Her breasts held no sign of breastfeeding at all.

She ran to the adjacent bathroom, bare feet padding thunderously on marble tile as she raced to the door. Sick came up, up, up her gullet, spilling out of her mouth and into the toilet. She cried, disgusted by the taste, by herself. 

Curling into a fetal position, she wept, wishing she could go back home. Back to Briar. To Jenny.

Maria spent the rest of the night in a ball by the toilet in a bathroom worth more than her livelihood.

Sobs wracked her body as she cried once more.

Never before had she felt so small. So out of control.

[izzysink]

𝑹𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒔𝒐𝒅𝒚, 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒉𝒖𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒓 𝒈𝒂𝒎𝒆𝒔

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟐: 𝑅𝐸𝐴𝑃𝐼𝑁𝐺 𝐷𝐴𝑌

𝒄𝒂𝒖𝒈𝒉𝒕 𝒊𝒏 𝒂 𝒍𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒔𝒍𝒊𝒅𝒆, 𝒏𝒐 𝒆𝒔𝒄𝒂𝒑𝒆 𝒇𝒓𝒐𝒎 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒍𝒊𝒕𝒚.

𝑚𝑖𝑙𝑑 𝑡𝑤: 𝑝𝑎𝑠𝑡 𝑡𝑒𝑒𝑛 𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑔𝑛𝑎𝑛𝑐𝑦 + 𝑚𝑐 𝑖𝑠 𝑎 𝑡𝑒𝑒𝑛 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑒𝑛𝑡 - 𝐼 𝑑𝑜 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑚𝑒𝑎𝑛 𝑡𝑜 𝑟𝑜𝑚𝑎𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑠𝑖𝑠𝑒 𝑡𝑒𝑒𝑛 𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑔𝑛𝑎𝑛𝑐𝑦 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑖𝑡 𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅𝒏’𝒕 𝑏𝑒 𝑟𝑜𝑚𝑎𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑠𝑖𝑠𝑒𝑑 + 𝑎 𝑏𝑟𝑒𝑖𝑓 𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛 𝑜𝑓 𝑝𝑎𝑠𝑡 𝑢𝑛𝑑𝑒𝑟 𝑎𝑔𝑒 𝑠𝑒𝑥

𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ✎ 𝐚𝐨𝟑 𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐤 ✎ 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 ✎ 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫

“Maria Laurier.” Chastity Trill squeaked, her accent making the name sound more like a question. “Maria? Come up sweetie.” No. Please, no. The Capitol woman smiled and displayed her perfect, pastel pink dyed teeth. Seconds of silence. Maria could feel her body moving without her. “Ah! There you are darling... yes yes up you come.”

Maria moved stiffly through the sea of parting girls. Her boots clacked against the floor embarrassingly in the utter absence of sound. Everybody knew. Maria could feel the pitying stares on her. The young mother, sent to die.  Maria could feel her face growing hotter with every step. Her eyes burned with tears. As she reached the aisle separating the two sexes at the Reaping, she was immediately surrounded by peacekeepers and led up to the stage where the Escort of District 11 stood in stiletto heels.

“And now, for the boys.” she strutted over to the other bowl on the stage, dismissing Maria entirely. All Maria could do was stare intently at her sister in the crowd, tears streaming down her face. Beside Jenny, little Rue stood clutching her hand, white knuckled and trembling. “Let’s see. . .” She pursed her pea-green lips, “Peppa Willaims!” She read from the slip of paper she had selected, looking down at the assortment of boys. He looked no older than 13, wide eyed and trembling as he shuffled towards the stage. Maria felt anger bubbling in her gut, and her face twisted into an ugly scowl. Wet tears streaked down her face, and embarrassment and fear and hate and sorrow flooded her heart. 

“Come now, shake hands you two.” The Capitol woman made them face each other with a surprisingly strong grip and moved back a step, her dagger-like nails digging into Maria's back. Maria shook the boys hand weakly, though he couldn’t seem to be able to do it strongly either. Chastity clapped her hands together in a praying gesture, looking out into the audience, “please, a round of applause for the Tributes of District 11 for the 69th annual Hunger Games!” She clapped lighty with her palm and fingers, giggling and looking at the two children like a doting mother. Little applause could be heard from the crowd, and a baby’s cry rang through the square.

[x]

Maria was led into a room in the Justice Building that looked out into the square she had been in just three minutes ago. 

She could see girls and boys dispersing, going home to their parents, heading to the fields. 

She could see herself walking to where Jenny stood like a statue, taking Briar from her sister’s hands. 

She could see Jenny running towards the Justice Building, cradling Briar as she thundered down the aisle marked by ribbons.

She could feel the odd fabric on her seat, it was soft one way and coarser if she ran her hand the other.

She could smell the musty air of a building barely used.

She could taste the bile in the back of her throat.

She could hear her own frantic breathing. Her heart ran too fast and too slow at the same time. Her dress was too tight. Her hands trembled, her knuckles white wrapped in her skirt.

She could see the door knob being turned.

She could feel the jolt of Jenny crashing into her, smell the sweat of early July and a crowd of people, feel the bone-crushing way Jenny held her tight, she could hear Briar fussing between them.

Briar. 

Tears welled in her eyes again as she leaned back to see her girl.

Taking her baby in her hands she held her tight, and Briar, not knowing what had happened calmed down in her mother's arms, cooing confusedly at the tears in Maria’s eyes. Jenny held her sister’s head in her hands, fingers tracing the dark contours of her face to commit them to memory. “Listen to me. You- you have to come back. And not because—"

“I can’t—”

“Not because you can, but because you have to.” Her sister wiped her tears, mourning the fact she’d never be able to again.  

“Come back to me, come back to us.”  

“I—,” two Peacekeepers came marching in, one grabbed Jenny and tried to pull her away with a harsh hand. “No! Let me stay—please!” But she was out of the room too quick to react. Maria could still hear her screaming nonsensically at the white uniformed men. The other picked Briar from her arms. Maria let out a sob, collapsing into the man and reaching for her baby. “Let her go, please! Don't take her away from me!” 

“No relatives are to come to the Capitol under any circumstances.” 

“I’m her mother! Give her back—please, can’t you see she’s upset!?” The ear-splitting cacophony of wailing from mother and child echoed in the room, the banging on the door from who the peacekeeper had presumed to be the mother of the babe he held resonated through the room as well. “Give her back please! She’s mine! My daughter!” 

The Peacekeeper paused.  Maria, having seen the man stop, ceased her screaming, though her breath still raced and her voice hiccuped intermittently. Hope rose in her chest. “She’s my baby. I had her last July.” 

“Wait here.”

The Peacekeeper left the room swiftly, still holding Briar. Maria scrambled to listen against the door.

Muffled conversation reached Maria’s ears from the closed doors. “Why would that change anything, Private?” What an odd name, she thought. “The other girl can look after it. The Tribute has no other visitors, get her to the train.” her heart sank to her stomach.

He came back in after, grabbing her by the arm, hauling her up and dragging her out into the corridor where Jenny stood, hugging Briar tightly and whispering sweet nothings into the still whimpering babe’s ear.

Maria’s thoughts caught up to the moment. “Wait—please! She’s not been weaned yet— she needs me!” Maria’s boot caught on the rug just in front of the main door. She gasped as she tripped forwards and knocked her skull on the door frame. A dizzying pain burst in her head. The other peacekeeper had to catch her body as she swayed backwards. Light flooded her vision as the doors burst open into the square, practically empty, except for the little girl waiting at the edge of the stage. Rue. She started forward to her friend in blind panic, but the Peacekeepers barrelled past her, and Rue, being small as she was, was easily pushed into Jenny’s arms. The two watched as Maria was shoved into a Capitol car and driven away. Away from them. Away from District 11.

[x]

The seat she sat on was like a cloud, a puff of all the softness she’d never felt before all condensed into one arm chair; and there were two of them! Her seat companion was a boy who looked no older than 13. He had semi-long, wild hair that defied gravity, and a gaunt face; a telling sign of poverty. The boy, Peppa, she now remembered, had helped himself to the food arrayed on the winding table and was stuffing his face with pastries, crumbs falling onto the white chair he reclined in. 

Maria, on the other hand, hadn't touched the food, for fear she would be sick. The car trip - she’d been in an actual car! - was quick but smooth enough to recede the pounding in her head to a dull throb. For a moment she had been entranced by the casual display of food and riches, the maximalist aesthetic of the train mesmerising in its comfort. But then felt a surge of guilt. How could she enjoy in Capitol riches when Briar was going to starve? Her sister would too surely, The Orchard paid only if work was done, and the salary Jenny received, though gracious, wasn’t much better than her own. 

Memories of harsh winters flooded her mind, cold mornings huddled together on the floor of their two room home. The two sisters used to sleep together, in the bedroom when the death of their parents was fresh, huddled together sharing meagre warmth and comfort on the thin mattress they owned. When Maria became pregnant with Briar she had already begun to make the main room of the house her own bedroom, from late nights coming home and not wanting to disturb a disappointed Jenny— suffering the cold instead of waking her tired sister.

When she was a few years younger and much angrier at the shortcomings of her family; hunger plaguing their school days with little energy to speak much to each other at all, she had fled to the barns where the elder kids hung out. The kids whose families owned the fields and farms (or at least directed them) and had little to do with their time, no jobs or dropping out of schools necessary for them. Food, though plain and bland, was almost always on the table. These children preferred to pass time in the warehouses that held the harvest in the summer and some reserve yield for the Capitol in case of emergencies, causing trouble and making fun in the night with moonshine, and poppy powder for some (including Maria herself more than a few times).

Infact, the boy she had slept with was the elder son of one the larger flower producers in 11. He had found her good looking, with smooth dark skin and plush lips, and though he was two years her senior and rather an asshole in some situations, she had agreed his proposition one winter night after a trip on the powder he had brought. A night she immediately regretted. She had been sick in the weeks that followed, and had cornered him with her suspicions a month after her last barn trip.

Looking back, the boy had been good to her when he could (though it wasn’t often) and she distinctly remembered him gifting her some coins one day. She knew they weren’t stolen because one of the older girls had lamented to her that he had started to charge for his products. Maria was never angry at the boy, Winnow Morrowson, though it hurt to even think about her times in the barn. She never blamed him for her pregnancy, half of their situation was of her own nïevety after all, and she was never scared at him either, though the boy was brash and uncaring, he had tried, and that was all that really mattered.

Winnow Morrowson died of an overdose a month before Briar’s birth at midnight. Only Winnow’s younger brother knew of his unborn child, and at was he who told Maria the news of his brother’s death only hours after it occurred. "It was easy to leave unnoticed," Thresh had said, after Maria asked if his parents knew where he was. "Me and my brother, we walk- we used to take walks in the mornings, he liked to watch the sun rise." The 12 year old, who was as tall as Maria already, had hugged her so tightly she was sure she would burst, and collapsed in agony in her arms. She held him gently, conscious of the strength in her frail body at a starving 8 months pregnant and stayed with him until the sun reached the apex of the sky, school all but forgotten.

But now, Briar was an orphan of two parents. And one died of fucking drugs.

Now, she was angry. Why, a year after his death did she need him? She didn’t need him when Briar was born. She didn’t need him during the months Briar kept both her and Jenny up like insomniacs afterwards. She didn’t need him. She didn’t need his money, she didn’t need his help. But now his daughter needed him. His daughter needed him more than she could believe. His daughter needed her father, a man she’d never known, because now, her mother was on a train to the Capitol about to enter a death match with other children, and even gets to watch.

While Maria worried about what Briar would wear this winter, two women entered the cabin. She recognised them immediately as the only two female victors of District 11; Seeder Thatch and Pomona Cadelle. Pomona met her eyes with a grim expression, taking the seat opposite her. “My name is Pomona Cadelle. I am your mentor for the foreseeable future. I intend to help you have the best chance at surviving these games, that task starts now; so I implore you to eat as much as you can before entering the arena.” Pomona eyed Peppa, “I see your friend has the right idea.”

Seeder spoke up from the side of car where she had been grazing the more savoury foods, “i suggest you eat and then go to bed, or at least your rooms, Chastity won’t wake up from her mid-afternoon nap until 4 so you have time to avoid her if you wish, she’s not the most pleasant character behind closed doors.”

Maria nodded and rose from her chair, though she didn’t go straight to the food. Instead, she stood outside the window that spanned the whole car horizontally. The blur of green disorientated her, the super speeds of the train felt impossible and almost separate from the car she stood in, the floor completely steady as if it wasn't moving at all. 

Pomona came up behind her and Maria could feel her hands being grasped and gently untensed from her skirt, colour slowly returning to her knuckles. “Let me show you to your room, the trip’s a days travel and the food isn’t going anywhere.” She chuckled dryly at her own humor.

She nodded blankly and let herself be guided to a cabin in a separate car. “You won't bump into Chastity in here either; the Capitol folk have a car nearer the front of the train. If you need anything, me and Seeder will be in the car with the buffet.” Maria mumbled her thanks and entered the cabin. 

And what a cabin it was. It must have been the size of the main room in her house, a large double bed draped in light summer sheets took up most of the space. A dresser sat opposite the end of the bed, and a floor to ceiling window spanned the outside wall. To the left a small room, she presumed a bathroom, and to the right a coffee and tea station. 

Without a thought Maria collapsed into the sheets, and though she had cried herself dry, she burst into tears once more and wished she were back home.

[izzysink]

𝑹𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒔𝒐𝒅𝒚, 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒉𝒖𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒓 𝒈𝒂𝒎𝒆𝒔

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏: 𝑃𝑅𝐸𝐿𝑈𝐷𝐸

𝑰𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒍 𝒍𝒊𝒇𝒆? 𝑰𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒋𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒇𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒂𝒔𝒚?

𝑚𝑖𝑙𝑑 𝑡𝑤: 𝑝𝑎𝑠𝑡 𝑡𝑒𝑒𝑛 𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑔𝑛𝑎𝑛𝑐𝑦 + 𝑚𝑐 𝑖𝑠 𝑎 𝑡𝑒𝑒𝑛 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑒𝑛𝑡 - 𝐼 𝑑𝑜 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑚𝑒𝑎𝑛 𝑡𝑜 𝑟𝑜𝑚𝑎𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑠𝑖𝑠𝑒 𝑡𝑒𝑒𝑛 𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑔𝑛𝑎𝑛𝑐𝑦 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑖𝑡 𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅𝒏’𝒕 𝑏𝑒 𝑟𝑜𝑚𝑎𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑠𝑖𝑠𝑒𝑑

𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ✎ 𝐚𝐨𝟑 𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐤 ✎ 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫

A baby’s wail echoed through Maria’s home, loud enough to wake her sister in the other room if she didn’t feed Briar soon; the eleven month old child still relying almost solely on her mother’s milk. She rose and lifted her baby from the cloth cocoon they used as a bed, settling Briar onto her lap. She blinked the sleep from her eyes as she cooed at the child, lifting her threadbare shirt to offer her breast.

It was almost first light outside, and some farmhands were already in the fields. The harvest had been plentiful that year, giving the Capitol cause to allow a larger amount of produce to be kept in District 11 than usual, but Maria had only heard the information in passing from Soya Gallagher, whose family had the means to buy the extra yield so graciously gifted by the Capitol.

Jenny shuffled into the cramped kitchen-living space, cracking her back with a soft groan.

“Briar hungry again?” Maria hummed and soothed Briar’s back gently, the familiar sensation of breastfeeding on her chest not quite comfortable. “I’ll get you something to eat, you have a long day ahead of you.” The Reaping, she had almost forgotten. Most districts had the day off on Reaping day, or so she’d been told, but work in District 11 never stopped, so Maria had a half day in The Orchard before heading home to put on her Reaping clothes at 1pm.

Jenny, at 21 years old, had outgrown the Reaping already, and Maria at 17 only had two more to go before she was free of the arena, something to look forward to she supposed, but also something she dreaded — the lack of extra grain from tesserae a thought she couldn’t stomach and tended to avoid thinking about.

When Jenny was still in the Reaping she refused to let Maria take tesserae (a yearly supply of grain and oil for one year per person in the receiver’s family) but now that she had been out for some years Maria’s name was in the draw 14 times.

On Jenny’s first year out of the Reaping she and Maria had had an explosive argument about her, then 15 years old, taking out tesserae, which had eventually evolved into a terse agreement for the younger sister to take tesserae for the remainder of her time in the Reaping, something neither had talked about since Briar’s birth and the number of extra times Maria’s name went in increased.

The two chatted whilst they ate pieces of unleavened bread and a cup of warm broth each, a glow settling in their bellies as the sun rose higher in the sky, their conversation only pausing to give attention to the tot sat in her mothers lap, nibbling on a piece of bread herself with her newly developed teeth.

Soon 7am rolled around and Maria changed into her farm clothes, worn denim trousers and a thin half buttoned shirt to fight the heat of July. She wrapped a stretch of cloth around herself, tying it in such a way Briar could lie against her chest facing her, the baby’s short legs splayed as far as they could go around her mother’s waist. Most days Briar would come with her to the orchards to pick fruit, but sometimes if conditions were right, she would be wrapped around her aunt’s torso whilst she tended to the market stall for the Bailey's farm or on the floor of the small room Jenny used as an office for the Bailey accounts.

The matriarch of the Bailey family, Beatrice (often called ‘Bebe’ by her close friends) had known Arwen Laurier, the girl’s mother, and had offered Jenny a job accounting for the family’s farm as soon as she graduated top of her class a few years ago, a rarity in District 11 and something both sisters were immensely proud of, even though one had still dropped out at 16.

The wrap, in fact, had been a gift from Bebe when Briar was born almost a year ago, and was one of Maria’s most prized possessions, along with the few baby clothes donated by the other mothers in their neighbourhood — nicknamed the Brush by its inhabitants, the poorest area of District 11.

[x]

The walk to the orchards wasn’t long, and with the sun having only just risen Maria wasn’t too hot when she reached the acres in which she worked. Though her sister worked for a family run farm, there were many Capitol owned farms, within which people without many job options could get pay, though the money wasn’t high. Maria worked at one of these farms: The Orchard. Tiny excitement bubbled in her chest as she approached the bountiful lines of fruit trees. Maria had left work early the day before, and had cut her time short with her favourite co-worker by accident. She spotted Rue a few meters away, on another similar path in the direction to The orchard, the small girl's eyes shining in the morning sun.

The way the harvest worked in The Orchard was that there were separate teams of people working on a few acres each, the size of the team depending on the ages of the people in them, as children under 16 had the summer off of school for the harvest each year. Most children above 16 years of age would drop out to work full time in the fields, so usually teams were quite of around 5 to accommodate the younger children working. Each team would be allotted one or two acres depending on the produce in the area each day and would have to complete collecting the food before the day was over, failure to do so resulted either in unpaid overtime hours or extra hours and whippings, that choice depending on which Peacekeepers looked over the procedures.

Bebe had offered Maria a job at the Bailey farm, but the girl rejected it only because she couldn't stand to leave one of her only true friends in The Orchard. Rue. And the thought of leaving Rue to deal with the Peacekeepers and the harvest by herself left an ache in her chest Maria couldn't stand.

Maria’s team consisted of 2 adults, a woman, Apple, and a man, Jasper, as well as Rue. Most teams had a ‘young’un’ as they liked to call it, and it was the other member’s responsibility to teach and look after their apprentice. Maria liked all members of her team, but Rue was her favorite, sweet and a little cheeky, the small girl never failed to make Maria’s day just a little bit better than it was before, and the other months felt empty in the fields without her.

“Maria!” Speaking of the girl, Rue ran up to her with a huge grin on her face, her too-big blouse fluttering in the wind, “guess what guess what guess what!” she squealed, drawing out her final word whilst tugging Maria’s hand toward where the other two were standing.

“Hm, let me think...” Maria tapped her chin playfully, “you’ve learned a new song?”

“Nope.”

“You’ve changed your hair.”

“Nu-uh, silly, if I had you’d be able to tell,” Rue giggled.

“Okay then let's see, you grew a tail?” Maria stuck her head back to check.

“No!” Rue gasped, looking behind to double check herself. Nothing was impossible.

“Well, what is it then?” Maria asked, stopping to face Rue with her hands on her knees.

“I...” Rue paused for suspense, “am a big sister!” A massive grin split Maria’s face in two.

“Oh, isn’t that wonderful! Is it a boy? A girl?”

“She's called Willow and she's a beautiful baby girl.” Rue said, quoting her father at her little sister's birth and tripping over the alliteration adorably.

Maria gasped, lips splitting into a wide grin and ushering Rue towards Apple and Jasper as she followed, thoughts racing through her head as the news properly sunk in, and she was struck with worry. A new baby in the Barnette family didn’t spell sunshine and rainbows. Rue’s father was terminally ill, and through he still worked (she knew because she saw him often working in the fields outside her house), Rue would soon become the sole provider for her family as her mother couldn't work, having lost an arm in a machinery accident a few years ago and having severely poor eyesight the growing family couldn't afford to fix.

Maria and Rue had reached the rest of their team by the time she was about to voice her worry, and had to place the thoughts in the back of her mind.

They got to work in the apple orchard first, Rue clambering up each tree and collecting the fruits from the top branches while Maria collected the apples closer to the ground, using a sickle to cut the stems at the regulated length, as climbing with a sleeping baby on your front was not a very smart thing to do— though neither was wielding a hooked blade so near their head.

The two girls worked in quiet companion ship for a while, before Rue’s timid voice broke the silence. "Are you scared of the Reaping?" The question cut through the calm moment like a knife through butter. Maria thought for a minute before answering the girl, both pausing their work. "I would be crazy not to, I think, but it's a one in a million chance, so it's not like it's inevitable or something." Her answer was weak, they both knew that, fear laced Maria's words, no matter how steady she tried to sound. Maria remembered last year's Reaping, when Lily Cartwright's name was drawn and her mother dropped to the ground screaming. She remembered the silence. The way everyone turned away.

Lily was Maria's age, and lasted a day in the arena before she was killed by the careers.

Silently, Rue hopped down from her branch. Thin arms wrapped around Maria's waist, and little Rue's head burrowed into her side, in between a sleeping Briar and her friend.

"Thank you." Maria whispered, not trusting her voice to say any more.

"You two!" A Peacekeeper barked, a hand gripping his gun tight. "Back to work!"

Rue shivered in fear, and Maria wrapped her hand around the small girls head. "Yes sir." She replied, dipping behind a thick fruit tree and leading Rue to a different cluster of foliage further away from the main building of The Orchard.

They passed a small well of water, clear in the summer sun as it rippled. A bucket danced along the water edge, left hanging on its rope. Realising how parched her throat was, and how dry her skin felt in the dry air, Maria stopped to lower the bucket fully into the water, filling it halfway before tugging back on the rope. Rue stood beside her, licking her dry lips.

The water felt cool on her tongue as she cupped her hands into the freshwater, lifting it to her lips quickly. Rue mirrored the action, spilling some of the liquid down the front of her light smock. They giggled as Maria copied the clumsy movement, water dripping down her front as she smoothed a cool, damp hand over Briar's soft head. The baby babbled in content.

Too soon, the sun came to the middle of the sky. Rue whistled her tune, and echoes of the four note riff repeated all over The Orchard, signalling the end of the day.

Rue slid down from the plum tree they had been harvesting, and gripped Maria's hand tightly. They saw Peacekeepers spreading out into the trees to catch any stragglers. The two girls giggled at each other as they both snagged a plum quickly and started to run hand in hand to the exit of The Orchard. Briar started to fuss, and Maria placed a hand on the babe's head as the two friends rocketed down dirt paths and through fields, passing smiling labourers as they bit into the rich fruits, the juice dripping down their chins.

They stopped at a crossroads, chests heaving and the sweet tang of plum on their tongues. "Can we go to the bakery after the Reaping?" Rue asked breathlessly. Obviously, they didn't have the money to buy any cakes or pastries, but the baker's wife had a soft spot for the girls, and often gave Briar spoonful of icing. They liked to stand in the small shop of the bakery and bask in the warm, sweet smelling air.

[x]

Warm water enveloped Maria as she sunk further down to rinse her hair, using soap to make the month old braids look presentable for the Reaping. They couldn’t afford warm water baths often, and only used the fireplace sometimes to heat water or food like they had earlier this morning, but boy, did Maria wish she could use it every day.

Jenny was playing with the baby in the living room, giving Briar floor time whilst Maria was getting ready. She could hear Briar’s happy babbling from the tub that sat in a small segregated area of the two sister’s house, and relaxed in bliss for a few moments to listen to her family.

Maria stood facing the small mirror on the mantelpiece of their fire pit, a layer of dust separating herself and her reflection. She wore Jenny’s old Reaping dress, a tan frock that had (assumably) been white in the past that reached just above her ankles with ribbons of the same cotton material connecting the tiers of the skirt. The bodice was plain but had ruching on the hem of the bust she had added herself on accident by pulling a thread. Jenny had arranged a few of her braids to tie together above the ones flowing down her back.

“A little help?” Maria turned to see her sister laughably struggling with the baby wrap for Briar and went over to help, “I’ve told you how a million times over,” Jenny rolled her eyes  at her giggling sister, “like this,” Maria demonstrated, “over one shoulder then under the other, back over and under... no, not like that...”

[adornedwithlight]

Neutrals: Lace

Please like, reblog and credit when you use my dividers!

[izzysink]

✎ 𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑪𝒂𝒑𝒊𝒕𝒐𝒍 - 𝑹𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒔𝒐𝒅𝒚

✎ ↜ ✿ 𝑪𝒂𝒍𝒊𝒈𝒖𝒍𝒂 𝑴𝒐𝒅𝒅 ✿ ↝

✎ ↜ ✿ 𝑪𝒉𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒚 𝑴𝒂𝒚𝒆 ✿ ↝

✎ ↜ ✿ 𝑪𝒉𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒕𝒚 𝑻𝒓𝒊𝒍𝒍 ✿ ↝

✎ 𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝑪𝒂𝒑𝒊𝒕𝒐𝒍 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒔

↜ 𝑪𝒐𝒓𝒊𝒐𝒍𝒂𝒏𝒖𝒔 𝑺𝒏𝒐𝒘

↜ 𝑫𝒓. 𝑯𝒆𝒓𝒐 𝑩𝒐𝒖𝒄𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒐𝒏

↜ 𝑱𝒖𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒄𝒆 𝑪𝒉𝒐𝒔𝒕𝒆

↜ 𝑶𝒅𝒚𝒔𝒔𝒆𝒖𝒔 𝑺𝒑𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 

↜ 𝑴𝒂𝒏𝒏𝒐𝒏 𝑳𝒆 𝑹𝒊𝒄𝒄𝒊

↜ 𝑹𝒂𝒐𝒖𝒍 𝑶’𝑴𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒆𝒚

↜ 𝑺𝒆𝒏𝒂𝒄𝒂 𝑪𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒆

[izzysink]

𝑹𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒔𝒐𝒅𝒚 - 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒉𝒖𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒓 𝒈𝒂𝒎𝒆𝒔

𝑴𝒂𝒓𝒊𝒂 𝑳𝒂𝒖𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒓

𝑱𝒆𝒏𝒏𝒚 𝑳𝒂𝒖𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒓

𝑩𝒓𝒊𝒂𝒓 𝑳𝒂𝒖𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒓

↝ 𝑳𝒊𝒏𝒌 - 𝑹𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒔𝒐𝒅𝒚