Powers ~ A Hunger Games Fanfiction [On Hold]

District Two - Reaping

District Two gathers in the square, talking amongst each other. Shouts echo around the square as friends call out to each other, and the newly eligible whisper and giggle to their friends about the excitement of the whole day. Very few here know who will be going up; although chosen beforehand, the tributes were kept secret from the district, only a select few with the knowledge of the tributes.

One boy, Caper, claims that he knows exactly who the tributes are this year, and tries to sell the names out. No one takes him up, and after awhile, he settles moodily into the thirteen year old pen, grumbling about how he knew Thyme was lying, the little-

"Welcome District Two!" calls Mayor Ryte, and begins the speech. She condenses it quite a bit, cutting out the unimportant bits and skipping ahead so they will have time to read out the victors before district one finishs their own reaping. The list goes on and on, and by the end, her voice is monotonus and boring to listen to. The crowd stays silent though, watching attentively.

"And, the mentor for District Two this year will be Claudine Monroe!" Claudine steps away from the line of Victors, taklng the applause with a wave and a smile, saying nothing. Though nearing her sixty-second birthday, Claudine is one of the best mentors to have in these games.

Signals are given, hurried whispers are passed offstage. They're on in five, four, three, two, one...

"And now, here's your escort, Jeaniee Fayde!"

Jeaniee waves as she comes onstage, taking in the applause with a bright, happy smile. This is her first year in district two; she'd been stuck in district five for years, and has finally been bumped up. "Hello district two!" she calls, and there are a few whoops and some clapping. Jeaniee smiles, completely caught up the spirit of the games. With a laugh, she skips over to the girl's bowl, taking the microphone with her.

A burst of feedback squeals through the speakers as the mic is tugged too far and dropped. "Do you mind?" yells one of the girls in the back. She covers her ears, looking up irriatbly at the escort.

Jeaniee's face flushes red as she picks up the microphone. "Sorry." she says quietly into the mic. After a rather awkward pause, Jeaniee pulls a slip from the girl's bowl, returning to center stage. "This year's female tribute for district one will be... Bellona Hyet!"

Bellona comes out of her pen calmly, walking up the steps with her head held high. The girl is small- she can't be more than fourteen. All eyes are scanning the crowd, waiting to see who's going up this year.

"Do we have any volunteers?" asks Jeaniee, when Bellona has taken her place on the stage.

"I will!" I girl threads her way forwards from the back pf her pen. Her last year to participate. It's now or never. And never is not an option.

Bellona jumps down off the stage and heads back to her pen when the new tribute comes up.

The girl takes the microphone when it's offered to her, clearing her throat and saying, "Hello district two. My name is Calsa Illans, and-"

"HA! I told you I knew this year's tributes!" A yell from Caper cuts her off, and she searches for him for a moment. Calsa locks onto him after a minute, giving him a glare dark enough it would make a tracker jacker second-guess who it wanted to sting.

"Sorry." mutters Caper, looking at his shoes.

After a moment more, Calsa continues. "I am Calsa Illans, and I will be the victor of the one hundreth Hunger Games." The blonde stands there for a minute, barely aknowledging the applause and enthusiasum she is getting. She hands the mic back to Jeaniee, who is looking thouroughly excited. Calsa looks for Caper to give him one last glare.

Caper hasn't looked up from his shoes yet.

"Well, isn't this amazing?" asks Jeaniee, not waiting for an answer. She picks out a piece of paper, heading back to the microphone stand. "And our male tribute is Leonardo Cemart!"

"I volunteer!" calls a boy from somewhere among the sixteens.

"No you don't." says another, from the same place.

The rest of the kids have enough sense to back away, revealing two boys, facing each other. "I think I do." says one of them.

The taller one cracks his knuckles. "And I think if you still want a face, you don't." He gives the other boy a menacing glare. The original volunteer considers his options. The other is taller, and looks like he would follow through with his threat. Besisdes, he's only sixteen. Two more tries left. He'll go up next year.

With a sigh, he backs away, and the other heads up onstage, grabbing the microphone right from Jeaniee. "Nicholas Night." he says shortly, "And I'm coming back here as a victor." He tosses Jeaniee back the microphone, glaring at the crowd as though they've caused him some personal grevience.

The escort scrambles to catch the mic before it hits the ground, nearly falling off the stage in the process. "Shake hands, tributes." she says, backing away from the edge. As they do, both of them regard each other with cautiousness. "Kelsa Illans-"

"Calsa." snaps Calsa, unconciously tightening her grip on Nicholas's hand in annyoance.

"Right, sorry. Calsa Illans and Nicholas Night!" says Jeaniee, grinning as the tributes are led off the stage. This would prove to be an interseting year...

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So, for those of you in Trial by Fire, yes, I know Claudine isn't really a wrter games victor. But not once has district two one a writer games. I searched for half an hour. No D2 winners. Ever. So, I went there instead.