Hunger Games: Fandom Style

Till the Sun Goes Down

24:00:00
Fred and George banged on the massive oak doors that guarded the old family home. A few moments later, a witch opened the doors, a smile already dancing on her lips. "Hello, boys."
"We need you to teach us everything you know about curses."
Bellatrix Lestrange's smile widened.

12:00:00
Artemis watched the action in four from his computer. He took down precise notes in a hand that barely shook at all.
Holly was perched on the desk beside him. "Think they've got a chance?"
He shook his head. "It's too spontaneous. They haven't planned for it nearly enough. If the other districts were ready to step in, it might be different, but as it is, all they can hope for is to bloody the Peacekeepers' noses a bit." He raised his eyebrows as a building exploded. "All right, break the Peacekeepers' noses. Still, the point remains the same. Unless your people are prepared to intervene . . . "
Holly shook her head tiredly. "You know what they're like. The Council can't see anything that hasn't been pounded into its collective brain, which is approximately the size of a swear toad's."
"Vivid," Artemis murmured. "Is that reporter still bothering your department?"
Holly rolled her eyes. "You'd think after the third time Commander Root threw him bodily out the door he'd take a hint."
"Perhaps he'd prefer to take this." Artemis held up a gold tinted jump drive.
Holly took it. "Shiny. What's on it?"
Artemis smiled wolfishly. "Just get it on the air. Every faerie in the Lower Elements is going to want to see this."
"It might take a while," she warned him. "It's not quite that easy."
"Just make it happen, Lieutenant. I want this hammer ready to pound."

02:00:00
In a town where gunpowder had seeped into the very cracks, explosions came easily. Too easily.
Norrington had requested a hovercraft to fight the fires raging all over four. The request had been denied. Repeatedly.
They had fought through the smoke and finally managed to corner a chunk of the rebels in what had been the tesserae offices. Peacekeepers surrounded the building. One was roaring through a speakerphone for their immediate surrender. Things should be calm here soon enough at least.
A messenger ran up to him. "Sir! They're escaping to the docks!"
Norrington nodded. Beckitt could handle things here. He took off running towards the docks, fighting to ignore the cough hours of shouting and smoke inhalation had brought on.
A bad fit forced him to stop at the corner. He looked back. One of the rebels had come to the doorway as ordered, but their hands weren't in the air.
They were lighting a very short fuse.
Beckitt's gun jerked as he fired a shot. The man collapsed.
And the building exploded.
When Norrington could somewhat see again, he looked around.
He was the only thing living on the street. Bodies of rebels and Peacekeepers alike lay like rag dolls a cruel older brother had burned to a crisp.
He fell to his knees and retched.

01:00:00
Sherlock leaned back against the swaying wall of the ferris wheel car. It was quite an impressive structure, really.
His stomach was complaining, but he had not yet reached critical condition. He had gone without food for longer periods before. Winters could be hard on orphans in 12.
His fingers played with the catch on the locket. He popped it open to reveal a faded photograph of his parents and a single flower petal. He considered the petal for a moment.
No. Not yet. Not until he had no other choice.
John would never forgive him.

00:30:00
Gimli surveyed his defenses proudly. He had successfully blocked off the only path leading to their stronghold with three progressively stronger walls constructed from whatever rubble he could find or create. To complete their defenses, a truly massive stone was positioned to roll onto anyone who got that far. And he had done it all by himself.
Well, the girl might have helped a little.
She had discovered water in the caves of the mine, although Gimli had been disappointed to realize the gems falling through it were illusions. And the jewels the poor dwarves had worked so hard to excavate were fakes. Some wicked magic must have clouded their brains and hidden this from them. Gimli sniffed. It was a sad tale.
On the plus side, he had the mine cars working again. He grinned up at Eowyn. "Want to give it a go?"
She smiled fiercely. "Try and stop me."

00:10:00
The place had presumably once been a restaurant. Tables still stood, both out front and inside. Merlin had shoved most of them out of his way and had spent most of the time since the bloodbath muttering defensive spells.
"What does that one do?" Arthur asked.
"Keeps them from noticing anything unusual when they turn the camera to us. It'll let me take off the cloak if I want to. It's quite a complex bit of magic, really. It would help if I'd had a human sacrifice or two, but the full moon isn't until tomorrow, so . . . "
Arthur stared at him. "Human - " He stopped when he saw the grin on Merlin's face.
An exhilerated scream cut through the air. They both spun to look out the window.
A mine car rushed past on the antiquated track. Blond hair streamed out behind it.
"Well," Arthur said at last. "It seems the neighbors have been busy."

00:00:00
The darkness was familiar. Comfortable.
Thirsty.
72,562.9873 divided by 22,567.5487 was 3.215368593. Multiplied was 1,637,568,750. To the power of was -
Not enough. Never enough. The ocean couldn't even begin to touch his thirst.
He leaned his head back against the wall. His fingers clawed down his face. Focus on the pain. Focus on the smell. Think about anything else.
Think about Carlisle. Don't disappoint him. Not again. Not like this. Think about Bella. She deserves better than a monster.
Thinking about Bella did help, for a while. Even in memory, he could lose himself in her smile.
But then the thirst came back, worse than ever.
"I know you're there," Edward said. The words came out as smoothly as always. They should have rasped and croaked. With the Saharan Desert being put to shame by the fires in his throat, the words should have come out drier than an ocean of sand. His lips should be chapped and bleeding.
Instead, he was velvet and marble. Outwardly whole.
Inwardly ravenous.
Leah - in human form, of course - stepped out from the shadows and leaned against the wall. "What do you want?"
"Talk to me, please."
"What?"
"Distractions. I need distractions."
"Oh." She frowned. "What's it like, being a leech?"
That wasn't very distracting, but maybe if he humored her, she'd come up with something better. "Have you ever been on a run with your brothers that went on for so long it strained even you? Have you ever come back sweating and reached for the first bottle of water you could find?"
"Sure."
"Imagine that it's cold. Ice cold. Condensation gathered around the rim and it's right there in front of you." He sighed and closed his eyes. "Then imagine someone's holding a gun to a complete stranger's head and they'll kill them if you take so much as a sip."
"It's that bad right now?"
He cracked his eyes open. "It's so bad that you're actually starting to smell appealing." True, there was that wet dog smell, but there was also the blood, pulsing and deliciously hot. It would take the edge off. Turn the fire to embers for a while.
Venom welled up in his mouth. It took all his self-control not to spring for her throat.
Steady. Steady.
"Distraction," he said, strained. "Please." He could hear her thoughts dimly through the blood lust. She was considering just walking away. It would probably be the smart thing to do.
Her duty to make sure he didn't go and kill someone else kept her. Her survival instinct got her talking.
"Quil come up with this idiot theory that we're all actually mutts the Capital created and's testing. Embry insists we're aliens. It's one of the few things that'll actually get them laughing these days."
He turned his head slightly. "They don't buy the traditional story?"
Confusion flickered in her brain. What story? No, don't tell the leech you don't know, just roll with it-
Edward smiled. Most people seemed to forget his abilities pretty quickly. The smile faded. It seemed inexpressibly sad somehow that even this had been taken from them.
"I heard the story a long time ago. I could tell it you so that you can compare it to the version you heard," he offered, adding the last bit to save her pride.
She remembered his gift then and embarrassment washed over her. Curiosity was greater though. And was that - perhaps, just the tiniest hint, of gratitude? She was warming up to him.
Edward settled back to tell the story.
He couldn't help salivating a bit when he got to the bits about blood.

President Snow smiled and rolled the flask between his hands. It was to go to a very special tribute. The vampire would be sated soon enough.
He'd have to make sure Flynn got to watch.