so um. i may or may not have started writing a realm smp hunger games au where ros and aimsey are from the same district and get picked in the reaping and try to keep each other safe but ultimately only one of them walks out of the arena. and also clown is ros’ brother and a victor with the highest kill count of any hunger games and i get really in my feels about that sibling dynamic. also owen is caesar flickerman. so basically ummmm if anyone wants that please start pressuring me to actually get it written
here have a little bit of angst
The moments after the Reaping pass in a haze. Ros doesn't really register anything except Aimsey's hand gripping hers, tight enough to hurt but not enough to keep her grounded.
Ros sees two boys she vaguely recognizes as Aimsey's brothers, and then Aimsey isn't by her side anymore. They disappear through a doorway, and sometime after that, Clown appears in that same doorway.
"Hey, Ros," Clown murmurs, sitting next to her. Sneeg follows him inside, quietly closing the door and blocking it with his body.
Ros doesn't feel anything. She only feels numb, and maybe a little angry.
Clown sighs, and Ros leans toward the sound, finding his shoulder with hers. "I'm so sorry," he whispers, wrapping an arm around her shoulders.
“Mm,” she hums, trying to make her words work again. “‘S alright.”
“No, it’s-“ Clown sighs again, frustrated and upset and more emotional than she’s seen him in years. “You’re going to make it out of there,” he promises. “I- we’re going to do whatever it takes, yeah? You’re gonna be fine.”
But it won’t be easy, Ros finishes silently. It won’t be the same ever again, and it’s going to hurt. Her eyes find the deep scar carved into Clown’s brow, remembering seeing a battleaxe come down on his face and barely missing his eye. She’ll never forget the image of him snarling, brandishing a sword, with blood coating half his face and dripping onto his chest.
“Okay,” Ros says, taking a few deep breaths and trying to settle back into her body. “When do we have to leave?” Clown already had a bag packed for himself, since he never has any time between the Reaping and the train to the Capitol.
“About two minutes,” Sneeg tells her. “I snuck away and grabbed a few things,” he says, offering Ros a little bag.
There’s not much, but Sneeg brought her favorite hairbrush, her sketchbook, and a few colored pencils. Even if he just swiped everything from her nightstand in a hurry, Ros is still grateful to have some semblance of normalcy.
