After The Storm (A Hunger Games Fanfic)

District Two Reapings

It's raining in District Two.

This is nothing new. It rains a lot in Two, for complex geographical reasons that none of the cool and stubborn inhabitants know or care about. Grey clouds drift over the hills, sprinkling droplets over the busy townships. The inhabitants naturally hurry all the time, like they're late for something very important. Not like in District One, though, where everything is colourful and sparkles and people laugh and joke. The mood here is sombre, tinged with pride. Lots of pride. No district has a Hunger Games history like District Two. In the last twenty years alone they've had six victors to District One's five and District Four's three. They stand, tall and proud, milling around until they're asked up onto the stage.

Cutter, the strong and merciless killer. Slate, the thoughful intelligent one. Orion, the ladies man and now in his sixth year as a mentor. Breeze, the snarling angel of death (according to the Capitol anyway...). Victor, the one who lived up to his name. And Tile.

In the predominantly tall and dark District Two, Tile's small bouncy figure stands out from miles away. She bobs around happily, talking to people - mostly about herself - and occasionally exclaiming "Isn't this exciting?" Her endless enthusiasm is met with stony silences and the occasional indulgent smile; she's barely turned twenty and most people are under the impression that she'll start to calm down soon. How she managed to win is a complete mystery to everyone. How District Two managed to bring up such a personality is a mystery to the Capitol rep.

Benedict stands on the stage under the canopy, waiting and listening to the rain splash on the canopy and the dull hum of the crowd. His serious grey eyes survey the people in front of him. If this was either of the other Career districts the canopy would be splashed with streaks of colour to make up for the lack of sunlight. But no, here in Two it's painted as grey as the sky. The children are dressed in different shades of black and white, hair loose, no glitz, no glamour. A few have patches of orange for the forges which are unlit today, but they are the minority and he bets their parents don't approve. They prefer the focus to be on them rather than on their clothes. The kids are tall and brawny, the adults even more so. Even the twelve year olds look like they could snap him in half. Thank goodness there will never be a riot in District Two.

Even so, Peacekeepers patrol regularly. This is the first official duty of all newly-qualified Peacekeepers; preside over the reaping. They march smartly in twos while the Mayor beams proudly at them.

"Good batch this year," he tells Benedict. Benedict nods. He's a man of few words and he's already used up most of them fending off the woman with the golden eyeliner. He doesn't care if it will bring out his eyes; he prefers his normal grey. He's sure he was only chosen for this district because he doesn't smile. Perhaps they thought District Two would be able to relate to him.

The stage camera has an orange light blinking above it; nearly time to start. He slaps a hand onto the podium.

"Settle down, please," he snaps, though there's no need. Everyone is settled already. Well, everyone except one.

"Sorry!" calls a happy female voice, "I got lost!"

One or two people in the crowd smirk as a mass of blonde hair bounds up onto the stage with a grin. Got lost? Okay, so Benedict himself has got lost in the maze of District Two townships a couple of times, but he's not native. He winces as Tile carries on "Hi guys!"

The other victors stand tall and straight, with the exception of the oldest, who refuses to sit down and instead stands very hunched over, her once maginficent hair silver and fluttering around her shoulders. Orion gives her a small, meaningful smile and she gladly bounces off to stand between him and the always-snarling Breeze.