The Wrath Of Games (Percy Jackson Hunger Games Crossover)

The Wrath of Games: Part I: Percy I

I've always wanted to do a Percy Jackson/Hunger Games crossover, so I'm finally doing it!

Hope you like it, R&R. :D

Part I: Urchin

Chapter 1

I close my eyes, staring at the everchanging colors beneath my eyelids, red, blue, green, yellow. I always think of it like a kaleidoscope, you can never see the same color or pattern twice. It is the same in snowflakes, even humans...

Except me, to most people, I'm the one small exception. To small to think about much, but large enough that there are whispers behind my back. Most people think I'm an odd ball, to never to amount to much.

If I don't get up now, I'll be in trouble. I groan; Ms. Matilda, the caretaker of the orphanage, would be livid if I woke up late. She doesn't like me, reminding me every morning that I have no future. She doesn't really care for any of us children, just the ones that might be able to contribute to our society.

Our society is simple, there's the Capitol, which controls everything, then twelve outlying districts, each one known for certain things. Our district, 12, is known for coal mining, in particular, under-paid coal mining.

I live in the seam, the part of District 12 with the roughest, work worn people. In the morning I can see masses of exhausted miners going to work through the attic vent, where I sleep.

"Johnson, get up now!" That would be Ms. Matilda calling up the stairs to me.

My real name is Percy Jackson, but ever since I came to the orphanage, she's insisted it's Peter Johnson. I'm pretty sure she's just too lazy to learn my real name.

I get dressed in some standard patched up cargo pants and a white Tee stained gray with coal dust; I pull on my warm hunting boots.

Taking the stairs down two at a time I jump the last four, it's kind of what we four older kids used to do to annoy our caretaker. A younger boy mimicked us once, and ended up having to have stitches — not that Ms. Matilda would pay for them. We ended up having to carry him to Mrs. Everdeen's, the best healer in my personal opinion. Ever since then, I'm the only one that participates in the peeve.

When I get to the bottom the old, rickety table that we only use for reaping day is out. I kick myself internally, how could I have forgotten today was the Reaping Ceremony? I'm glad I won't have to change, though, I only own two pairs of clothes, these being my better pair.

On the table is the best breakfast we see all year, even surpassing holidays. That being said, it still isn't much, just a little cold, watered down, porridge mixed with oatmeal and raw katniss tubers. While the capitol would probably laugh at me, I look at it like a feast, as if I'm a ravishing wolf to have just taken down a mouth-watering prey.

I sit down at the end of the table being the oldest, though staring at Ms. Matilda's face is enough to wish that privilege denied.

As seats start filling up around me with kids from ages three to sixteen, I can't help silently laughing at the irony of it all. While most of them see it as a present on this special day, I see how it really is. It's a hope that Mrs. Matilda will never have to see two of us again; she's trying to fatten us up for the slaughter.

Then Adaya, my twelve-year old sister, comes in the front door. While she wipes her shoes on the 'go away' mat, all my previous thoughts of the Hunger Games evaporate like the Mist. In contrast to my semi seamish look, she has light brown hair, aqua marine coloured eyes, and pale skin. While I don't know who our parents were, they must've been from a district other than 12 with our looks. That thought leads me deeper to so many more silent questions that I almost miss Adaya's.