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Post by countlivin on May 11, 2021 20:45:09 GMT
Sorry guys I’m going to have to postpone the next part until tomorrow, as I don’t have time today to get it done. It’ll be there tomorrow though.
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Post by countlivin on May 13, 2021 4:37:36 GMT
You have chosen Marten to [B. Take the Deal.]
He couldn’t risk it; there was too much at stake. “I’ll get you the morphling!” Marten cried. “Just put the gun down… Please!”
The barrel of the pistol pressed hard enough into Marten’s forehead to draw blood, but eventually, Ronn eased up. He chuckled as he pulled the gun away. “See?” he taunted. “Now that wasn’t so hard, was it? We wouldn’t have needed all this nastiness if only your dear old Grandad had done his job.”
Ronn turned and trudged through the current back to shore, carrying the spear on his shoulder. The boys who had followed behind the carpenter’s son were no longer laughing; clearly they had wanted more blood. Marten climbed painfully to his feet and shouted, “That’s my spear! Give it back!”
As he made it to dry land, Ronn laughed and shook his head. “Nah, I’m keeping it. Just call it a down payment…” Marten felt a surge of anger. His father put that spear in his hand when grew he old enough to hold it. But regardless, Ronn continued into the woods, taking a piece of Marten with him. “Two days, Marten. Two days.”
Until the waxing moon shone upon the creek, and the stars twinkled brilliantly behind the clouds, Marten stayed at the creek, feeling the cold water course around him and through his wound. An hour into the night, Willy arrived along with Jill, Kregan, and Uncle Avery shouting Marten’s name at the top of their lungs. They spotted him and brought him back to the Lewis house, wrapping a warm blanket around his shoulders to bring him comfort along the way. Little did they know that the Marten they found was not the Marten that they had lost.
At the Lewis house, Marten arrived to the usual ruckus. His cousins were playing music on their fiddles in the corner, Aunt Myra and her husband were watching the younger kids play by the firelight, and not a second would pass by without something big and dangerous being tossed through overhead. Mom stood in the kitchen and instantaneously wrapped Marten in a sweeping hug, or at least as much of Marten as she could fit her arms around. “Oh dear, we were all worried sick!” She saw the blood on Marten’s forehead clearly in the candlelight and wiped it away with a washcloth. “What happened to you? Myra, get the gauze!”
“I’m fine, Mom, it’s just a scratch,” Marten protested.
Willy laughed and clapped Marten on the back. “Found this guy just sitting in the river down by the fence. You woulda thought—”
“Oh, you could have gotten hypothermia!” Mom panicked. “Myra, get the thermometer too!”
Marten was not running a fever, nor did his forehead hurt, but he knew his mother well enough not to put up a fight. Within a minute a long red glass tube was poking from his lips and yellow bandages were stretched taut around his forehead. In truth, his foot hurt the worst of anything, as Ronn had driven the spear fairly deep, but pain alone could never faze a Lewis. And besides, they couldn’t see the shape of the wound or they would have questions he couldn’t answer.
He watched the kids race happily around the room, the boys hitting each other with sticks they found outside and the girls arranging colorful rocks they found by the brook. This… This was what Grandad wanted to leave his family, not the debt… not the blood. Marten patched up his foot in the privacy of the bathroom before he went to sleep that night. As he drifted off, he turned it over and over in his mind. By morning, it was clearer than fresh water.
Despite what Grandad may have done off the records, he was still a hero to this family. To the people of Four, his company had been a landmark since before the Dark Days. That was the company Marten wanted to inherit, not some dirty cover-up. Grandad’s memory would stay clean, and Marten would run the company the way Grandad would have wanted him to. Marten would put his foot down, no matter how much blood he would lose.
Marten would wait two days. When Ronn came, he would be ready.
End of Chapter Four
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Post by countlivin on May 13, 2021 4:41:25 GMT
CHAPTER FIVE: FORGOTTEN
Penn Cassidy
It was dark… It was dark, and that was all Penn could remember. She knew her own name, she knew she was eighteen, yet, no matter how long she plumbed the depths of her mind, she could not remember where she came from. Her eyes were closed; she wasn’t sure what kind of a world she would wake to, or whether she would enjoy a life in it. Penn’s overwhelming question was “why?”
When Penn opened her eyes, she found herself in a blank, white room—stars blinking on all sides. Silhouettes of light hovered above her, though she could not make out their features with eyes that felt so new. As the lights became dimmer, a silhouette darkened into a tall man with thick, brown hair with a surgical mask stretched taut along his jaw. His eyes stared deep into hers—he seemed to know her.
“Thank God…” the doctor whispered. He flipped a switch and the incessant light became a dull simmer. The world around Penn took shape. He sat up, and so did she. She pressed her lower back against the velvety pillow and nocked a strand of black hair behind her ear. “We weren’t entirely sure you’d wake up again…”
The room was very small—no larger than the average bedroom—and was terrifically claustrophobic. It was so cold, and her skin felt raw. There was comfort and warmth in her knees as she hugged them to her chest. “What… happened?” she spoke, a rasp in the subtle hum of the light fixture. “Where am I? Who are you?”
The doctor took his hand to his mask and hung it around his neck. On his breast pocket, he wore a tag with the name Dr. Terriet Prince. With his rugged cheekbones and impressive jawline, the man was easily attractive, but far too old for her. That was one more reason she wished to grow up. Do I want to grow up? she asked herself, realizing the thought came unbidden to her mind.
“All of your questions will be answered in due time, miss,” Dr. Prince responded, flipping through notes on a clipboard. “I understand you must be scared, but I’m going to ask you to remain calm and collected so we can provide an accurate treatment. Alright?”
“Alright?” Penn felt a twinge of anger. “How can it be alright? I don’t know who I am!”
The doctor ignored her. He clicked a pen and hovered, preparing to record his observations. “What is your name?”
“Penn… Penn Cassidy,” she replied, growing warmer.
“Do you remember anything about yourself? Age? Family members, perhaps?”
“Eighteen,” she replied softly. She dug back for any recollection of her parents, and realized there was someone there… “I remember my father. Nothing about him—only that he was my father.”
“Was?” He raised a brow, his pen scratching relentlessly over the paper. “Is he no longer with us?”
She shook her head. She could remember nothing of her father, but her heart swelled in her chest while she thought of him. Even tempting the notion that he might be gone—even if Penn did not know who he was—was troublesome. “I… I don’t know,” she said truthfully.
“I see…” He scrawled on his page, and Penn had the unsettling premonition that she would not want to read what he had to say. He flipped on a switch and the bulb above showered blinding white light on her once again. Penn squinted and held up a hand to shield her eyes. “Is there anyone else…? A boyfriend, perhaps? Maybe the family dog?”
Upon mention of a dog, Penn’s heart sank deep into her stomach with an involuntary lurch. “I don’t know of anyone else. Listen, why are you asking me all these questions? Can you just go get my father?”
“Not until we are sure he is your father, Miss Cassidy,” he replied. “We must be careful about these things.
“Why am I here?” she asked.
“You are here because you were recovered at the bottom of a ravine, half-dead. Two days ago.” There was no lift in his tone when he said it. “We’ve restored your bone capacity mostly, yet you seem to be lacking your memory.”
“No way!” she shouted sarcastically, tears springing to her eyes. “Tell me something about me—something I can go off of… Please!”
“I can tell that you have a boyfriend,” Dr. Prince stated, scratching on the board. “Himself and your father have been waiting outside the compound for the past few days to see you. We haven’t been able to let them in the door. At least until we can confirm they are, in fact, related to you.”
A handsome figure formed in Penn’s head. She did remember something of her boyfriend: his kiss. “Can you send them in to see me?” she asked. It was a strange feeling, meeting your family for the first time.
“I cannot. I’m sorry.”
“And why the hell not?” she retorted.
“They found you at the bottom of a ravine outside District One. You were caught trying to escape, Miss Cassidy.” He gestured around with the clipboard. “This place is not a hospital. It’s a prison. I suggest you get used to it.”
The words hit Penn at mach speed. District One? How could she be a prisoner if she didn’t even know what she was trying to escape from? “I don’t remember trying to escape… Where was I going? You can’t do this to me…”
“We can, and we did,” said the doctor, and Penn boiled. “Like a foolish little girl, you tried to run away from the Capitol when we have provided so much for you. You should be grateful you’re in here and not dead. My team had to do a long bit of work on you, you know? Completely avoidable…”
“I’m not going to sit here and rot for something I don’t even remember doing!” Penn roared. She tried to leap from her bed to get the upper hand, but her body was too weak and failed her. Instead, she slammed face first against the ground sending shockwaves through her spine. She laid there writhing until the doctor called a nurse to help lift her back.
“You are so incredibly stupid, you know that?” Dr. Prince said, rubbing his temples in frustration. Penn glared down a bruised nose at him. “Look, girl, I just want to know if you recognize the names Jomal Cassidy or Dray Kerrigan.”
“Like I would talk to you…” Penn scoffed.
“Don’t be difficult.”
Don’t be difficult, he says, Penn mocked in her mind. She snickered and said, “I will be as difficult as I damn well please.” Prince stared fire at her; the thought of his irritation only made it funnier. “I’m in prison, aren’t I? I mean how much worse can I get? Seriously, I—”
Prince brought out the taser. Twice he pulled the trigger, sending electric bolts of agony into the air. Penn quieted. “Jomal Cassidy. Dray Kerrigan.”
Penn paused, finally allowing the names to settle in her mind. After ruminating on them for a while, she was able to match the names to the figures in her head. “I remember both names,” she told the doctor.
“Listen,” he told her, clearly unhappy to utter the words he was speaking. “You are allowed one family member’s audience, but we can bend the rules to let in a relationship if that’s what you’d like. I really honestly don’t care.”
“Why can’t I see them both?” she cried. “It’s my dad and boyfriend! How can I pick one over the other?”
“It would help if you’d make this a bit easier on yourself and just shut up for a minute.” Prince shook his head. “And you’re going to have to choose. You’re lucky you get even that. You do that or you get no one. Your call.”
Who should Penn ask for?
[A. Ask for her Father.]
[B. Ask for her Boyfriend.]
[C. Ask for No One.]
You have chosen Penn to [A. Ask for her Father.]
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Post by InGenNateKenny on May 13, 2021 5:18:46 GMT
[A. Ask for her Father.] I have always been fascinated about people doing something (usually controversial) and then getting amnesia and not remembering it. Is it fair to treat them as if they did what they do when they have no recollection of doing it?
Invalid vote eh?
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Post by countlivin on May 13, 2021 5:56:39 GMT
[A. Ask for your Father.] I have always been fascinated about people doing something (usually controversial) and then getting amnesia and not remembering it. Is it fair to treat them as if they did what they do when they have no recollection of doing it? Yeah that certainly is an interesting moral question to tackle. Penn, though, doesn't have much trouble getting into trouble. Now it's just that she's forgotten why. Also, I just realized I've been doing the votes in third person this time around, so it's ask for her father now lol. Of course, this means your vote is INVALID!
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Post by Stephen on May 14, 2021 18:41:56 GMT
[A. Ask for your Father.]
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Post by countlivin on May 14, 2021 18:43:07 GMT
[A. Ask for her Father.] I have always been fascinated about people doing something (usually controversial) and then getting amnesia and not remembering it. Is it fair to treat them as if they did what they do when they have no recollection of doing it? Invalid vote eh? I'll allow it but you're on THIN ICE
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Post by LiquidChicagoTed on May 14, 2021 23:11:33 GMT
[A. Ask for her Father.]
A wise man once said "Ugh, Penn!". That wise man was me. Since then, however, I have become older and therefore wiser, so now I can say with certainty that I am not entirely certain if I still hate her. I don't like her. No, I really don't. But she was sometimes somehow not the worst last time, I still don't know how you pulled that off, but my opinion about her somewhat changed for the marginally better. And a lot of what made me hate her the first time (for example, all of it) hasn't happened yet, so who knows how she's going to end up this time. Better? Perhaps. Worse? Hardly possible, but again, perhaps. Just judging her by her first part alone and not by any whats and ifs, she's okay. This might be the best you'll ever hear me say about her, but right now, she's okay. Let's see if she remains that way, I'm surely going to be interested in seeing how she develops. Whatever happens, her parts have always been interesting to read even when she was the worst, so yeah, that's something to look forward for in either way.
On a note (maybe) completely unrelated to the fact that I really don't like Penn, I just found out this forum has a puke emoji and that honestly just made my day
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Post by countlivin on May 15, 2021 1:23:54 GMT
[A. Ask for her Father.]
A wise man once said "Ugh, Penn!". That wise man was me. Since then, however, I have become older and therefore wiser, so now I can say with certainty that I am not entirely certain if I still hate her. I don't like her. No, I really don't. But she was sometimes somehow not the worst last time, I still don't know how you pulled that off, but my opinion about her somewhat changed for the marginally better. And a lot of what made me hate her the first time (for example, all of it) hasn't happened yet, so who knows how she's going to end up this time. Better? Perhaps. Worse? Hardly possible, but again, perhaps. Just judging her by her first part alone and not by any whats and ifs, she's okay. This might be the best you'll ever hear me say about her, but right now, she's okay. Let's see if she remains that way, I'm surely going to be interested in seeing how she develops. Whatever happens, her parts have always been interesting to read even when she was the worst, so yeah, that's something to look forward for in either way.
On a note (maybe) completely unrelated to the fact that I really don't like Penn, I just found out this forum has a puke emoji and that honestly just made my day Ah yes, the long-fabled Penn rants. How I have missed these lol. Honestly I'm tempted to make Penn even worse this time just so I can push you to see how long I can get the corresponding Penn rant to be
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Post by countlivin on May 15, 2021 7:09:01 GMT
You have chosen Penn to [A. Ask for her Father.]
Penn was upset by her lack of options, but she was upset in general so she made the stupid choice. “Just bring my dad in here then,” she pouted. “I’m telling you I don’t remember doing anything.”
Dr. Prince stood and turned away from his patient. “You may not remember it, but that doesn’t change the past, Miss Cassidy. You’d better learn to accept it.”
He slammed the door, and once he was gone, Penn took her pillow and screamed away all her breath where no one could hear it. She’d been awake for ten minutes and already she wanted to go back to sleep. At least her father might be able to provide some answers, because in that regard, the doctor had been no help.
After five minutes of fuming at a wall, there was a knock on the door. Before she could answer, a smiling man wearing a dusty brown jacket entered.His thick gray hair came down around his face into a scraggly beard. If she had seen him on the street, she would have taken him for the village idiot… He was her father?
On the man’s face was a bittersweet smile behind that shaggy mustache. “Penn…” he said, his eyes welling up. “I can’t believe it—what they told me about you. This can’t be true, right? They found you outside the gate?”
“You have five minutes. Use them wisely,” said Dr. Prince before closing the door.
Penn could hardly understand. Even though the man was scruffier than she had hoped, his voice had all the warmth she needed to fight the cold of the cell. As her father wrapped his arms around her, there was something homey in the creaking sound of his leather and the scratch of his beard bristles on her cheek. How could she refuse to hug him back? “Daddy?” she whimpered.
He began to laugh through the tears, his hands shaking slightly. “Yeah… It’s me, honey. I can’t believe it.”
“I can’t remember anything…” Penn said, now truly accepting the weight of those words. “Where am I?”
“District One, honey,” he replied, taking his hand in hers. “It’s where we live—in One. Dray is really excited to see you. We all are, kiddo… Have they treated you well in here?”
“I only woke up about fifteen minutes ago,” she murmured, “and no, they’ve treated me like ass…”
He laughed through the tears. “You still have your mother’s mouth.”
“Where is my mother?” she asked him. The fact that she was not here nor outside the gate with her boyfriend was disconcerting. “What happened to her? Is she…”
“Dead?” he cut in. “No. But she might as well be.”
“What happened?” Penn asked to no response. “Daddy? What happened to my mother?”
“She’s an Avox…” He fought the words out, and regretted them after. “They took her voice away from her. That darling voice… You would have loved to hear her sing, Penn.”
Penn did not know what an Avox was, but figured she shouldn’t ask. “Where is she? Is she not in District One?”
“She’s with some snot-nosed freak with bushy eyelashes in the Capitol,” he grunted angrily.
“Are they gonna let me out?” Penn asked her father in an effort to shift the subject to something she could understand. “I hate this tiny room.”
“They’ll let you out,” he responded, sniffling. “They have to eventually. The Games are quickly approaching, and they’ll need every hand free.”
In Penn’s amnesia-riddled mind, there was no clue as to what the Hunger Games were, but with the term can an involuntary rush of excitement. A flash revealed a memory to her; she pictured herself throwing a knife of steel at the side of a building, and then… her very first meal cooked over a fire… She remembered feeling truly happy there. She didn’t know what the Games were, but she had an overbearing urge to join them. She knew, at the very least, she had wanted to before she fell.
“What are the Games?” Penn asked.
“You really don’t remember anything, do you?” he replied. As he made to answer her question, a metallic scrape signaled the entrance of Dr. Prince. Dad continued. “I don’t know the extent of your amnesia, but it’s got to be quite a bit if it erased that part of you… It’s a—”
“You’ve had enough time in here, Mr. Cassidy,” interrupted Dr. Prince definitively. “Get out.”
Dad stood slowly, and before he made his leave, he pulled a small wooden case from his pocket. “I’m going to post bail for my daughter,” he told the doctor, and handed him the case.
“We don’t accept bail here, that’s for non-federal crimes,” Dr. Prince stated plainly. “I suggest you leave, or I will be forced to remove you myself.”
With a smooth gesture, Penn’s father opened the wooden box in a manner that only he and the doctor could see inside. Penn lifted her chin to try to see over the lid, but it was futile. “I’m going to post bail for my daughter,” Dad repeated.
Prince took one look at the box and took it from the man, quickly stowing it in his briefcase. As he hurriedly stashed it away, he spoke. “Your bail is accepted. You both can leave.”
Penn climbed uneasily from her sickbed, finding uncertainty in each of her footsteps. It was like Penn had never used her legs before, and that frustrated her to no end. She began to fall but her father caught her with a strong arm and helped her hobble to her feet. “Thank you,” said Penn sincerely, cursing her flimsy feet.
“It’s time to go, Penn,” her dad told her as he helped her to the door. He didn’t bother to shut it behind her, as he carried her through the cement halls.
“What was that in the box?” she asked, clinging to his arm.
“Your bail,” he whispered. “Do you think you’ll be able to walk on your own soon?”
“I don’t know…” Truly, Penn felt as though her legs were jelly beneath her. There was no way for her to tell how quickly they would solidify.
“Damn,” he cursed. “We need to hurry. We don’t have long before we get another chance.”
“A chance for what?” Penn raised an eyebrow.
Dad turned the corner in the hall and waited for several men in shiny white plate armor to pass by. “Evening,” he said to them, and they carried on without even as much as a glance. Once they were gone, he whispered, “Another chance to escape, Penn. Another ticket to a better life.”
End of Chapter Five
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Post by countlivin on May 15, 2021 7:11:22 GMT
CHAPTER SIX: THE TWENTY-FIFTH
Aura Cantarella
"Move! Get in formation!”
Aura was rushed into the line by a man wearing armor of gleaming white. The color was blinding next to the field of gray and black worn by many members of the crowd—funeral colors… Today, there was not a cloud in the sky to match her disdain. The sun was shining for once, yet it felt as though its rays missed this part of the earth entirely. Today was the reaping.
The girl had been dreading this day from the moment she was told what her destiny was. Until only a week ago, Aura believed she had one more year until she was forced into these Games. She had told her father she would volunteer though, and for the sake of her little brothers, she had every intention to honor it.
She wiped a bit of dust off her black silk skirt: one of the fanciest pieces of clothing she owned and a gift from the Capitol. Though it would have infuriated her father to wear dirty rags on the day of her big triumph, she would have stuck out in the crowd like a sore thumb, and that would have been worse.
“I’m scared, Aura,” Cass spoke lightly, and nudged her. Aura Cantarella and Cass Cannadine had met when the two of them were only twelve, young pups in a hunter’s trap. Since their last names were so close to each other in the alphabet, they stood next to each other year after year. And during every single reaping, Cass could never keep her mouth shut. “I put my name in too many times… What if it’s me? What will Garth say?”
“Shut up,” Aura whispered back, keeping her vision trained on the stage as she had been taught since she was born. The Capitol and their minions in white had told the kids to line up in two street-wide columns—boys on the left and girls on the right. This year, the seventeen-year-olds were placed just in front of the eighteens, who took up the rear. Only a single year and she would have escaped this…
Cass nudged her arm again with her own shorter one. “Come on, Aura. The guards never catch us chatting here. Why do you keep pushing me away?”
Aura reached down and took Cass’s hand in her own, gripping it with her own fear of death. Cass seemed to notice the intensity: one that she had never sensed in her best friend before. She gave Aura’s hand a gentle squeeze and a tear fell unbidden from Aura’s eye. She had not yet told Cass about the decision her father had made… She would find out soon enough.
Aura began to turn those four horrifying words over and over in her mind. I volunteer as tribute… I volunteer as tribute… I volunteer as tribute… What if another beat her to the punch? Would her father send Corvin into the training then? What if she stumbled with her words, pronounced it wrong and they wouldn’t accept her? So many poisonous questions were floating in her mind, and the only thing she could do was to squeeze them into Cass’s hand.
“How many times did you put your name in?” Cass asked with a relative calm.
“Thirty,” Aura replied, her voice quivering. “Now shut up, please…”
“Dear God,” Cass replied, completely ignoring her. “How can you live taking risks like that?”
Aura sighed and gave up on remaining quiet. Cass would continue to babble, just like she did every year. She said, “I’m going to volunteer.” At hearing the worlds, all the girls in the nearby vicinity turned in shock, and Aura felt so small. District Seven seldom had a volunteer.
“Aura, you can’t… Tell me you didn’t!”
“I did…” It saddened Aura that there would never be a good time to explain this all to Cass. “You have to promise me something.”
“Anything.” Cass squeezed her fingers tenderly.
“Promise me you’ll look out for—”
Aura’s instructions were cut short as the huge gates of the Justice Building rolled open. Spilling out of them was a large, jolly man with curly yellow mustachios, well-coiffed yellow hair and a gut full of booze. The man was Ludwig Orretter, the escort representing Seven. He was vile, but he put on a good show for Capitol screens. That’s all that truly mattered to them.
“Hello, my young woodpeckers!” he exclaimed with the glee of a child. He took delight in referring to District Seven simply as woodpeckers because of their lumber export. “Can I get a show of hands? Who’s ready for today?”
A handful of naïve children in the front raised their hands, but none past thirteen dared. They knew better. It was their first year here, so the twelve-year-olds hadn’t spent enough time listening to this man speak. He appeared fun-loving and friendly to the naked eye, but Aura knew who he really was. After many visits to the Victor’s Village and many back-handed remarks about her and her brothers, she knew better. He had used these comments on Ava too, but after she left and never came back, at least the man had enough human decency to do the same.
“As I have been informed only moments ago, today is a very special day for you youngsters! Today, you get to be written into the very book of history!” Aura didn’t understand why Ludwig was more chipper than usual, but she figured with the man’s loud mouth, she wouldn’t have to wonder much longer.
“I’m sure some of you have noticed—” Ludwig Orretter hiccupped, a momentary bit of relief in his awful speech. “Some of you have noticed the glass bowls are not present as in previous years. I’ll ask you not to worry! They will be back soon.”
“What does he mean?” Cass leaned over and asked.
“I have no idea,” Aura answered. “Maybe it’s some kind of—”
“Hey!” The bellow echoed over the Justice Pavilion and she turned to see a Peacekeeper with a blonde ponytail striding toward her, gun in hand. The Peacekeeper broke through the ranks of eighteens and grabbed Aura by the collar-bone. With no care for Aura’s neck, she yanked the girl out of the row and into the center lane. The hair Aura had worked so hard to make beautiful this morning had fallen flat again.
“NO!” There was only one audible voice in the entire court. All others fell silent. It was her father, behind the fence. Drunkenly, he shouted, “You get your hands off her!”
“If you have such a will to speak, girl, then do it!” The Peacekeeper projected. “Say those words everyone wants to hear!”
“Madam!” Ludwig Orretter shrieked. “This is a formal occasion! I’m sure you have been made aware of the rules. No one speaks unless a tribute or on the stage. Now, if you would so kindly return to your post, and stop talking.” When Aura was dropped to the dust, she realized with astonishment that the escort had been speaking to the Peacekeeper, not to her. In shame, the soldier went back to join the other of her rank.
They had not yet called the reaping, but this was her best chance. “I volunteer,” she said loudly, but not enough to shake the audience.
“What was that?” Ludwig said into the mic. “Speak up if you wish to say something.”
Aura slowly stood amidst the dust. Her collar was slightly torn down the back and her once pristine blouse now was coated with a thick layer of dust. The boys were on her left, the girls on her right; she spoke for all of them. She cleared her lungs and roared, “I volunteer as tribute!”
A strict moment of silence passed over the pavilion. Even Ludwig was taken aback. He hiccupped. “While I do admire your enthusiasm, Miss Cantarella, I’m afraid I have to decline your offer.”
Aura felt the blood rush to her cheeks, and before she had time to ask, the gates behind Ludwig flew closed and a projection appeared upon them in the form a short man with long hair, a thick beard and a friendly smile. It was the Head Gamemaker, Roman Walsh. After studying every opening ceremony to all nineteen Games before her, and participating in five of her own, this had never happened before.
The man on the projection spoke louder than Aura could even imagine. It was as if he was a hammer beating the words into the skulls of the crowd with the harshness of his tone alone. They didn’t need to hear these words again. Twenty-four of them get shipped off to die every year, and the Capitol again would treat it like a joke. Aura already knew the announcement by heart.
“And without further ado, I announce the Twenty-Fifth Annual Hunger Games! It is truly a special occasion. For this year’s games marks the twenty-fifth anniversary of your salvation. And yesterday, President Coriolanus Snow decreed that, in celebration of this magnificent event that unites our nation, a special rule will be placed upon the Games, to quell the ambitions of those who might disagree with our methods. This year, we will demonstrate that you are still free to choose for yourselves, and that all citizens, regardless of district, are still citizens of Panem.
“For this year, there will be no reaping. You shall choose amongst yourselves which tributes shall represent you. YOU decide for your district. And so, this year, we speak to not only tributes, but to every child of Panem. Heed our words.
“May the odds be ever in your favor.”
As the projection closed with a flash and a whir, there was devastation. The entire district fell silent. Even the twelve-year-olds near the front of the pack were visibly shocked. Aura was no different. All were too shocked even to move, let alone talk to each other.
In the confusion, Ludwig stepped back to the mic and spoke in a condescending manner. “You may return to your formation, Miss Cantarella.”
After the gates closed and the ceremony was over, the children filed out of the court in their normal, orderly fashion. They weren’t jittery and chatty as usual, but instead, every boy and girl shared a silence. Each and every one of them knew the pain and impending choice the district would be forced to make. No person would want to willingly send someone to die.
Aura began the walk home alone, careful to avoid her father’s path as she did. She didn’t want to deal with whatever he had to say. The scenic route through the southern forest was one that hadn’t been used in a long time. She though it led to an old wood processing plant, long since abandoned, but she’d never had the urge to check.
Halfway along the trail, she felt a small prod on the shoulder and jumped, screaming along the way. As she composed herself, she saw Cass behind her with a face between humor and sadness. “What the hell, Cass! You can’t startle me like that! How did you even find me?”
“I followed you home,” she responded innocently. “I’d meant to ask you before you so bravely volunteered if you’d like to come out with me and Garth to the Haven tonight. It’s been a while since we all hung out there and after today, everyone just needs a break.”
“You can’t sneak up on people. You’ll give me a heart attack someday…”
Cass scoffed. “If this is the girl we’re sending into the arena for us, we’re gonna be in trouble. Don’t get scared so easily. What if I had been an attacker? You just gave away your position and advantage.” Aura was surprised at the amount of strategy she had tucked away under that thick skull of hers. If only she used that same logic in school, she might not be flunking. “Now, do you want to come with us or not?”
“I have to get home, Cass,” Aura sighed. She had prepared dinner before they left so Corvin and Barker would have some way to eat once she was gone. Now that she realized she could be able to eat some of it, she realized how hungry she was. “Dinner’s going to get cold, and I have to put the boys to bed.”
“You eat like a king every day, Aura,” she replied. “The rest of us are lucky to get one full meal before it gets dark. Take a break and see how it’ll be in the arena for once. Don’t you want to give Garth one last goodbye anyway if you’re leaving? You know he’ll miss you.”
“I’m not leaving. You were there. There was no reaping.” Even though Garth was Cass’s boyfriend, Aura knew he had a secret crush on her from the start. Cass got past that a long time ago though, and the three of them grew to become best friends.
Cass sighed. “I know there’s not a reaping, but if you think the town won’t take into account your little scene in the aisle, you’ll be wrong. Chances are, you’re still our volunteer.” Cass extended her hand and turned onto their dirt path beneath the pine to the Haven. Aura wasn’t sure whether to take it or not. “One last goodbye?”
What should Aura do?
[A. Stay Behind.]
[B. Leave with Cass.]
You have chosen Aura to [B. Leave with Cass.]
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Post by foxcobra on May 15, 2021 23:40:44 GMT
I say leave with Cass. We’ll sing dark children’s songs more later
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Post by countlivin on May 15, 2021 23:43:05 GMT
I say leave with Cass. We’ll sing dark children’s songs more later Fair enough 😅
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Post by InGenNateKenny on May 16, 2021 22:40:41 GMT
[B. Leave with Cass.] More interesting option I think.
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Post by countlivin on May 18, 2021 19:10:57 GMT
You have chosen Aura to [B. Leave with Cass.]
“One last goodbye,” she finally agreed. Aura reached out her arm and caught her friend’s. The two walked in the way they always did toward their Haven. “I don’t want to go to the Capitol,” she spoke softly. “I realized that this morning. I want more than most things not to go to the Capitol… I don’t want to die.”
“I know… None of us do,” Cass replied. “Yet the minute any of us let out a bad word, there they are, aiming a missile at our home. Why did you volunteer in the first place? You never told me.”
“My father,” she said. “He told me if I didn’t, he would put Barker and Corvin through the same program he put me and Ava through.”
“Oh, honey…” Cass sighed. “You’re really going to go through with it, aren’t you?”
“I’ll go through anything if it means those boys don’t have to suffer. They deserve better than this filthy town… And my dad.”
Aura and Cass passed tree after tree. To any other, they would all look the same, but they knew exactly where they were going. They travelled through these woods all the time. “You asked me to promise you something just before you got dragged off,” Cass said.”
“Yeah.”
“What was that?”
Aura had truly been hoping she would be able to put this question off indefinitely, but she bit the bullet and asked. “Can you watch after them… when I’m gone? You’d be a good mother to them. They need one.”
“I can do that,” she said and hugged Aura close. “I owe it to you for being such a good friend over the years. Now I’m going to ask something of you.” She stamped her foot in the dirt until Aura stopped and met her eyes. Aura didn’t normally like eye contact, but it felt normal with Cass. “No matter how much the Games drag you down, whatever they force you into doing… Promise me when you come back you’ll still be the same.”
“I can’t even promise that I’ll come back.”
“Oh, you’ll come back.” Cass smiled. “You’re different than the other tributes. You have more reason to win than just survival. You’re doing it for your family—for the boys. And when you return home, you’ll be hailed as a hero. Panem will cry your name. Well… I hope I’m there to see it… The day my best friend becomes a victor.”
End of Chapter Six
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Post by countlivin on May 18, 2021 19:13:10 GMT
CHAPTER SEVEN: WHAT IF IT WERE ME
Aura Cantarella
The Haven was only a place they chose in the farthest reaches of the woods, and yet, it felt like it were always meant for them. The way the sunlight graced the forest floor and glimmered off the gentle water pouring into the spring. Here it felt as though the world was worth living in. Aura had heard that outside the reaches of Panem, there were more places like this. There were places the darkness hadn’t touched yet.
The area they had named “The Haven” was rich in plant life. Almost every type of plant she’d ever seen could be found within fifty feet from where she stood, and in the center of it, there was a small freshwater spring with a section of creek dropping off into a waterfall. It was the picture of serenity. She slipped off her shoes and socks; the grass felt like shag carpet here.
“Somehow, this place always makes me forget,” Cass noted, placing herself on a rock near the spring. “You remember the time you told me you liked to sing, and I got upset at you because you were way better than me?”
“No,” Aura lied, sitting on a smooth stone across from her. “Sorry, but it doesn’t ring any bells.”
“See? This place makes you forget.” Cass giggled, and Aura joined in. “No, but seriously, there was this time when we were thirteen. I had always thought to myself that one day I would be a musical star… One day I’d rise in fame and eventually get to live in the Capitol and meet President Snow.”
“I mean, those are some pretty realistic aspirations,” Aura laughed.
“Yeah, my point exactly.” Cass stuck a finger in the water and waved it around in ripples. “I used to tell myself I would one day do all that, and my mom and dad would agree with me because they’re cute. And then you came along, and everything I knew about my singing was shattered.”
Aura’s heart sunk in her chest hearing this. “You’re a great singer!” she said.
“Well next to you, I fell flat on my face.” Cass sighed. “The first time you opened your mouth, it was the most beautiful thing I’d ever heard. I’m jealous your brothers get to hear you every night.”
Aura didn’t know whether to coddle her friend or to act in modesty. “Cass, I…”
“You were so good… And then you told me about your dad,” she spat. “You said that he told you it was your destiny to die in the Games. And trust me, I thought some pretty nasty things that a thirteen-year-old should not be thinking, but I kept them to myself. I kept them there because… because you seemed to agree with him. He told you to kill yourself and you said ‘okay.’”
“I was younger,” Aura said defensively. “My dad didn’t let me actually watch the Games until three years ago. I didn’t know what they were about.”
“But what I was most upset about,” Cass continued, “wasn’t that you were going off to the Games. It was that you weren’t going to be a singer. It was like, one minute I’m thinking I’m a musician, and the next moment someone clearly better arrives, and they announce proudly that they’re going to die instead. How messed up is that?”
“Yeah…”
“Is that weird? Selfish?”
“A bit,” Aura said, “but understandable. I would’ve thought the same.”
“But my point is, our lives used to be so simple. We had time to worry about what clothes we were going to wear tomorrow, and what the school lunch was. That was all taken away when the Games started. I don’t even think it’s Panem at all. It’s just the Games.”
“The Games are what make living here rotten,” Aura agreed.
“The Games and Snow,” Cass corrected her. It felt so freeing to be able to speak bad about the presiden without keeping a watchful over the shoulder for passing Peacekeepers.
“The Games and Snow,” Aura repeated.
“Your voice is just one bullet on a long list of things the Capitol has ripped away from us,” she spoke quietly. It was morbid, but most likely, it was true.
They sat in silence for something like five minutes—it was hard to keep track of time here. Neither could find anything to say, as in one week, Aura would be off to what would likely be her death. Dad had taken to telling her that the Cantarellas had combat skill in their blood. It gave her a sure advantage, he informed her. Then he had her watch the recordings of both his and Crispin’s Games. She didn’t know about Uncle Crispin, but her father survived simply by being in the right place at the right time.
Aura heard a loud splash and a squeal as Cass scrunched up into a ball. The wave had luckily missed Aura entirely but it left Cass soaking wet. “Garth!” Cass shouted, knowing it was him before she even turned.
“C’mon, hon!” Garth grinned widely, treading in the center of the spring. He swiped his hand over the water and splashed it at his girlfriend. “A little water’s not gonna hurt you!”
Cass stood and turned. She pulled off her shirt and shorts and leapt into the water with her boyfriend. “No, but I’m gonna hurt you!”
“Oh god!” Garth screamed sarcastically. He turned away and swam to the other side of the spring. Garth was a tall man, but very skinny, and his facial structure matched. His normally puffy red hair hung in wet strands down to his neck.
Aura laughed at the display, and scurried to the rock that Cass had left. It was slightly wet from the splash, but she didn’t mind. As Cass’s head peeked back above the water, she wiped her ebony hair back. Garth waved back to meet her in the center. “Way to take the stress off, guys,” Aura laughed.
“After today, we could use it,” Garth replied. “That was really something—what you pulled at the reaping. You don’t… You don’t really mean it, do you?”
“Hm?” Aura asked for clarity.
“You’re not going to volunteer, are you?”
“I am,” she told him. “I have to.”
“Wow…” he sighed, his voice sinking lower. “You don’t have to now, though, right? You saw the Head Gamemaker just like everyone else did. The district is going to choose. It doesn’t have to be you.
“The district isn’t going to just ignore a bold statement like that,” Cass assured him. “She actually might have a better chance now that she did that. The sponsors will have definitely enjoyed the show.”
I wonder if they were looking at me,” Garth chuckled. “I was posing for the camera back in my section.”
“The other way to win sponsors at the reaping,” Aura laughed.
“Come on in, Aura,” Cass encouraged her. “The water’s great. Even warmer than usual.”
“I’m fine up here,” she replied.
“This may be your last chance to swim here,” said Garth. “Come on, it’s like your second home.” Aura shrugged and he frowned.
The longer she gazed at the two of them, the more she wanted to jump in, until she stood and pulled her skirt to her ankles. “Screw it,” she muttered to herself. He was right. This might be the last time she spent here. She was going to make it count. Winding up, she ran and bounded into the water in a cannonball, causing what felt like an even larger splash than Garth’s. When her head broke the surface, Cass and Garth had migrated to the side and were lying against the rock. She did the same.
“I want today to last forever,” she told them.
“I think everyone wants that,” Cass agreed.
“Tomorrow, I’m going to have to go back and deal with my dad’s training again. I’ll be doing that almost nonstop until I have to board that monorail,” she sighed. “And then, only God knows what fresh hell comes after. But today, I’m just going to sit. I’m going to relax.”
“You’ve earned it,” Cass smiled.
“How do you want to go?” Garth asked. The question came from nowhere. When Aura and Cass shot him looks of horror, he acted as though it were the most innocent question in the world. “How do you want to die? Because if I were you, I’d be thinking about it every waking moment.”
“I don’t know,” Aura replied. She was taken off guard by the question. “I suppose I never really thought about how it would happen.”
“Me? I’d like to go taking someone else out,” Garth replied. “Someone who’d hurt me… like a final act of revenge.”
Cass looked at him with worried eyes. “Where did this come from?”
“Ever since I heard Aura shout at the top of her lungs she’s gonna volunteer, I haven’t stopped thinking about it,” he said. Of course, he wouldn’t have to worry about it anymore. He was nineteen, and above the age limit for the reaping. “I keep wondering, like, what if it were me? Would I be one of the ones who sticks it out? Perseveres? Cause it sure as hell feels like I’d be too nervous.”
Cass sighed. “If it were me, I wouldn’t be able to handle it. I feel like, if there’s any way to die, it should be your own way. And if it’s early on in the Games, so what? There are very few things you’d be able to choose for yourself in the arena. This should be one of them.”
“I don’t think you can choose how you die,” Garth says. “You should try to go as long as you can. Do whatever needs to be done to come out on top. Because you can’t give up. You just have to keep going on.”
Cass traced a finger through the water’s surface. “There’s one way you can choose your fate. I know everyone looks down upon those who are killed in the bloodbath, but think how much pain would be avoided. Think how much guilt they didn’t have to suffer. They got to die with nothing on their conscience.”
“Don’t talk like that,” Garth frowned. “If you have a chance, you have to take it. What do you think, Aura? You’re the one who’s actually going into the Games here.”
Aura was having trouble deciding whose ideals to pick. “What if it were me?” he had both asked. The “it” was Aura. She peered into the glimmering water of the falls to her right, and came to her conclusion. She knew there wasn’t any other way to look at it.
What who should Aura side with?
[A. Side with Cass.]
[B. Side with Garth.]
You have chosen Aura to [B. Side with Garth.]
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Post by Stephen on May 18, 2021 23:22:28 GMT
[B. Side with Garth.]
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Post by InGenNateKenny on May 20, 2021 2:40:12 GMT
[B. Side with Garth.] Aggression is good. Must be aggressive. You play to win.
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Post by foxcobra on May 20, 2021 3:59:27 GMT
Side with Garth. Fighting to survive doesn’t have to mean killing. Often there are other ways, if you are determined enough
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Post by LiquidChicagoTed on May 21, 2021 2:57:11 GMT
[B. Side with Garth.]
So, while I get what Cass means, where she's coming from and why she's saying that, I don't agree with her at all. Garth is right. Aura has to survive if she wants to have any chance at getting out of there and in the end, that is all that matters once she's actually in the games. She has to do whatever it takes to survive, that might even include killing, but it definitely means that she cannot just give up and die in the bloodbath.
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Post by countlivin on May 21, 2021 4:06:46 GMT
Sorry for the early release, my dudes, but I'm leaving for vacation tomorrow morning and won't have a whole lot of time to post. I'm pretty sure everyone has voted that is going to vote, though
You have chosen Aura to [B. Side with Garth.]
“You can’t just give up, Cass,” Aura told her. “There’s always a way out of everything… even death. And if there isn’t, you make your own. But you can’t give up.”
Cass frowned. “I guess you have a bit of your father in you after all.
That stung. Garth could sense the slight tension and tried to cleave through it with a hand in the pool. He splashed water in both of their directions. Aura and Cass turned to him in shock. “What” he asked. “We’re in the pool.”
“Regardless, I’d still prefer you remain in one piece,” Cass said.
“Seconded,” Garth added.
“Motion carried.” Aura chuckled.
They sat there in the pool for what felt like forever, yet Aura knew it wasn’t hardly an hour. And when the sun started to go down, she knew her last day with her friends was over. “I should be heading back now. The longer I keep Corvin and Barker waiting, the harder my training’s going to be next week.”
“Stay a little longer,” Garth pleaded. He swam to the other side of the spring, beneath the waterfall. As gallons of water poured onto his head, he laughed and threw his arms in the air. “Pretend this is your last day on earth! Let’s go crazy!”
Aura climbed out of the spring and shook herself off in a pathetic attempt to air-dry. Quickly, she slipped back on her skirt. “No offense, man, but it may actually be my last day on earth, and I’d like to spend it with my family.”
“Fair enough,” Garth told her.
Cass swam to where they had entered the spring and locked eyes with her. “Hey, Aura, you know we love you, right?”
Aura smiled. “I would forget my own name before I forgot that.”
“Hey,” Garth called out. “When you win and become rich and famous, don’t forget about us little people! We deserve a shot too.”
Aura chuckled and turned away. “Okay, Garth.” She ambled back to the entrance path they had cleared years ago and leaned against a tree while she pulled her shoes and socks back on. She looked over her shoulder and got one last look at the place she had called home for so long. Tomorrow, it would all be gone. She teared up as she spoke. “Goodbye…”
There was a huge chance this was the last time she ever saw the two of them, and they knew it too. In a month, Aura would be either dead or a murderer. There wasn’t any winning in this. “Goodbye, Aura,” Cass spoke softly, just before bursting out into tears. Garth swam across the pool and wrapped her in his long arms. He looked in Aura’s direction and nodded, and she knew he meant it just as much as Cass had.
Aura turned, and finally left the Haven. It was so dark she could hardly see. She was cold, wet, and lonely. She was angry at her father, at her district… She was angry at everything. Once she was only a mile away from home, she couldn’t bear the stress anymore. She slumped down into the dirt next to a tree, and began to sob into her hands.
She let her collected persona go now that no one was left to judge her. She cried until she had trouble breathing, gasped, and then cried it away again. They were tears she had been holding inside her a long time, and letting them out felt like the flood gates bursting open.
“Why?!” She shouted at the top of her lungs. She knew someone might hear in town, but at this point she no longer cared. She stood and peered into the evening sky as a cloud floated past the moon. “Why the hell does it have to be me?!”
Silence… but what did she expect?
As she let her head focus more at eye level, she rubbed the buildup from her eyes and found something unusual on a tree next to the dusty path. There was a nail protruding from its bark, and hanging on it, was a framed wooden sign on a yellow string. She’d never seen it here before. She could barely see, but there was just enough light left in the day to make out the picture. On it, was a picture of an owl with its head facing the side.
There was a small wooden trinket hanging from the nail as well as the sign. Aura ripped it off and examined it closer. It was a miniature owl, looking identical to the one on the sign, with a yellow beak, horn-like feathers, and a regal appearance. She pocketed it and began to read the cursive words written on the sign. They read:
“The Owl sees where the Hawk does not. “The Owl is a friend. “From, Schrodinger.”
End of Chapter Seven
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Post by countlivin on May 21, 2021 4:09:35 GMT
CHAPTER EIGHT: THE TRIBUTES
Penn Cassidy
Nothing had changed. Penn wasn't sure what it had been before, but she had been told nothing had changed. Still there stood a man before the teenagers of District One, wielding the names of each. The reaping would continue.
She knew very little of what these games meant, but the more she learned, the more enticing they became. She looked around at the Hall of Careers and knew that a few days ago, this was her home. They had called her a Career. Penn arrived to a cacophony of “Welcome back!” and “How’s your head?” Perhaps this could be her home again.
Penn stood beside her father in a crowd of screaming kids—many of whom had had too much to drink. The lights in the chamber were suspended high above on the ceiling, and were dimmed far beyond the point of clear vision. Brassy music beat at Penn’s ear drums, and kids all around her were leaping and shouting. Hair was flying; the air seemed suffused with booze and sweat alike. How could Penn not be excited along with them? The tributes were about to be chosen.
Earlier that day, the projection of a short man Dad had deemed the Head Gamemaker appeared in the center of town. He announced that this year, instead of being picked at random in a giant glass bowl, the tributes would be chosen by the district itself. According to Dad, this was entirely a non-issue in District One. Hundreds of kids here—Careers—had been trained since birth to be a tribute. All names in the reaping were volunteers.
Before the ceremony, they had all been instructed to record their votes on which two of their ranks should take the spot of tributes, the results of which would be pooled together for the reaping bowl. Of course, Penn had cast in her own name, but knew no boys except for Dray so in that bowl she did not throw her lot.
“This is something crazy, huh?” a guy in front of her said, while wading through the masses. With pink eyes, he was clearly on some sort of drug. He continued to float on by, carried by the crowd.
Dad took her by the arm. “C’mon, Penn. We have to get you to the front,” he said in a quiet voice, or at least relatively quiet. There was precious little emotion in those words. “You’re going to be chosen.”
“Greetings, District One!” barked the large man center stage and the crowd cheered in deafening chorus. Everything about the man was cool, from his sleek black jacket to his locks of hair so expertly parted. From what Penn had heard from the random mumblings of potential tributes, his name was Plexus Goldbrand, and he had won the Fifth Annual Hunger Games. And now, twenty years later, he led the aspiring Careers in a facility he himself had envisioned and brought to construction. “Welcome to the first Quarter Quell. Or, as I like to call it, the chance to show Panem what we are all about!”
It was technically illegal, in the eyes of the Capitol, to train children before the Games, yet it was something most Peacekeepers let slip by. Everyone liked a good show. Year after year, the Careers posed a significant threat in the arena, and every time they won the Capitol provided the district with additional safeties and comforts. One was the wealthiest of any of the districts for this reason, though Two and Four had formed their own Career facilities and were not far behind.
After brushing past one more drunk Career, Penn realized they had turned this event into an enormous party. Penn was wading through a sea of idiots. All were trained killers with shaky trigger fingers, and the drink would just deaden their reflexes. And yet Penn found it all somewhat entertaining… A dream sailed through her mind of the honor it would bring her to stand up on that stage alongside Plexus when he inevitably called her name.
“You’re smiling,” said Dad. He nudged her shoulder. “I see you still have some of your old spirit left.”
She turned to her father, but made no response. This was where she felt at home: someplace where it was loud and noisy and everyone chanted in unison. The sound was mesmerizing, and she willingly sank into its depths.
Once the two of them fought to the front of the crowd, Penn found a familiar toothy grin. “Hey, Penn!” the guy said. He wore a sort of soft hat that rounded the top of his head, and cute brown stubble dotted his chin. It was her boyfriend, Dray. She met him last night after Dad had rescued her from the winding corridors of the Justice Building. He wasn’t the most attractive guy she’d ever seen—of course that title had to go to Plexus Goldbrand—but he was nice, and he did the job.
Dray wrapped his arms around her and pecked her cheek. His breath smelt of alcohol. “Have you been drinking?” she asked.
“Who around here hasn’t?” he laughed. The crowd leapt up and down and the whole world shook to the beat. Dray followed along. “Woo!”
Penn rolled her eyes to her father, expecting a disapproving look, but he simply smiled in her direction. Penn sighed. It felt very strange waking up and already being committed to a couple people she hardly knew.
“Alright, let’s get down to business!” Plexus’s voice echoed through the amphitheater. The Careers’ cheers soared. “Everyone should be here by now. Can I hear what our name is?!”
“District One!” they chanted.
“What is our trade?!”
“THE GAMES!”
Penn glanced over and couldn’t help but laugh at her father. His face was contorted into disappointment. “What’s wrong, Daddy?” she asked.
“Our trade is accessories.” He frowned. “It’s definitely not the Games…”
“Shh!” Dray brought his fingers to his lips as the rest of the room went silent and the loud music ceased. “They’re starting…”
“As we know, there is no volunteering for this one, guys,” Plexus announced through the massive speakers. The stage had been converted from an old boxing ring, and the crowd circled around him. “You all have voted on the strongest fighter among us, and I stand here today on righteous ground… The site where our children become heroes! One of you will join them today!”
Every eye in the room, including Penn’s, watched with bated breath as Plexus crossed the stage. He plunged his hand into the bowl of male names and ripped out a paper. He read it. “Stygian Pluto!” he declared, and a cry of accordance deafened the hall. From the other side of the amphitheater came a tall, muscular boy with close-cropped blond hair. He climbed confidently to the stage and basked in the spotlight. Plexus shook his hand with swagger. “Congratulations to our male tribute!”
The applause and the cheers mingled into one, excited drone. Stygian turned to the rest of them and held his arms high above his head. “District One for life!”
There were quiet grumbles as soon as the room quieted. “He’s so big…” Dray muttered in her ear. “No wonder people voted for him.”
“There are more tactics than brute strength,” Penn replied. She jabbed two fingers hard into his side and he jumped in pain.
He laughed it off. “I guess you’re right.”
Plexus found the other bowl on the stage. This is it, she thought. I’m going to be the female tribute. I have to be. Plexus handsomely reached into the pile of votes and withdrew one. With each second that passed, the knot grew deeper in Penn’s stomach. It was going to be her…
“Silver Lascius!”
Penn felt her heart stop and Dray clung to her tighter. Dad patted her amicably on the shoulder. When the girl made her way through the applause and onto the stage, everyone could see her piercing blue eyes. She was trying to look brave, but those eyes didn’t lie. The girl was terrified. She practically reeked of fear. It was disgusting.
“And our female tribute!” Plexus bellowed to a pitiful round of applause. It was evident that the crowd had expected someone else. “Shake hands to seal the pact,” Plexus instructed them. The moment Stygian and Silver shook hands, Penn was furious.
“Hey, honey…” her father reached out for her.
“You lied to me,” Penn shot, feeling it tear through her core. She had placed all her belief in what her father had told her, because what else did she have to go on? What little personhood she had attained since she woke up all came crashing down.
“Penn, it’s not the end of the world,” Dray told her, attempting to coddle her.
Penn didn’t want coddling, she wanted to know who she was. She turned away from them in a hurry and cut through the crowd, dashing until their voices drowned in a sea of tributes.
The music swelled louder and the cheering filled the amphitheater; everything smelled rank like alcohol. Penn was sick of it. She threw the door of the facility open and trudged up the stairs until she arrived in the rec room in the center of the town square. It was a stupid way of camouflaging a secret Career facility, in her opinion. Anyone who enjoyed table tennis would spot the entrance on a daily basis.
She slammed the doors and stormed into the cold of the night, leaving the bouncing building behind her. Her father’s voice echoed. “Penn, I know you’re upset, but it’s time to go home now. Why don’t we—?”
“You lied to me, Dad!” Penn interrupted him with an accusing finger. “You told me people feared me. You said they shouted my name when I walked down the street!”
“They do…” he continued.
“No, they don’t!” she screamed. “Stop telling me they do!”
“Penn,” Dray said, approaching her slowly from behind her father. “I think you’re being a bit rash here.”
Penn gripped the air so hard her fingernails broke her palm. The nerve of him… “Go away,” she whispered. “I just lost all my memory! Poof! Goodbye! The Games were going to be the one thing that could bring them back!” She collapsed onto the ground, angry with the world, but as she did, she came to a realization.
Dray wrapped his arms across her shoulders there on the ground, and attempted to help her up, but it was futile. “Why don’t we find you someplace warmer to spend the night than the town square?”
“Is everything all right here, citizens?” asked a man in white plate, a Peacekeeper holding his helm in his hand. “There were reports of some teenagers disturbing the peace.”
“I think we’re fine, sir,” Dad told him calmly. He jerked his head toward her. “We’re fine. Right, Penn?”
“We’re fine…” Penn repeated, reluctantly. As the Peacekeeper left, she stood and turned to her father. “Dad, you were talking about escape yesterday. You said I was caught trying to escape. Where was I going?”
Dad sighed and shook his head. “This isn’t the best place to discuss this. Let’s take it home.”
“Discuss what?” Dray asked, confused.
Penn agreed and the three of them followed the road until it led to the cluster of houses where the wealthier members of District One lived. By the time they made it to their street, she had collected herself. She wasn’t sure why she went so far off the deep end on the only two people who actually meant anything to her. When they arrived at her home, she knew it only by the number: 881. The paint was green and not peeling from the wall like every other house down the way. She approached and opened the door, immediately finding a seat on the futon.
“What was I doing the other day?” she asked. “Why did they find me outside the fence?”
Daddy fell across from Penn on an armchair and Dray sidled into the seat next to her. “You used to know this, but I’ve planned an escape from the district for quite some time now.”
“Escape to where?” she asked.
“The Capitol,” he replied. “It’s the land of paradise. Ever since your mother was taken, I’ve been formulating a plan to sneak out and rescue her. You were caught outside the perimeter because you fell.”
“You didn’t go down to help me?” Penn asked.
“I couldn’t. There was too much at stake.” He watched the stars and so did Penn. The moon was a beacon tonight, and the man within was frowning. “If they caught us together, they would’ve judged you harsher. I didn’t want you to end up like your mother.”
Dray leaned in. Penn could sense his complete bewilderment. “I would like to point out that this all goes way over my head. Why would you want to leave? I like it here.”
“Here is not in our best interests,” Dad told him. “It may be your home, Dray, but it has never been ours.”
Penn squinted at the moon, formulating her own plan. “Are there any non-Career districts adjacent to this one?” she asked. “Ones where the Games are not their trade?”
“The only one I can think of would be District Nine. Why do you ask?” The corner of her mouth turned up. “Oh no… You’re not thinking…”
“I’ve already made my decision,” Penn said, lying back in her seat confidently. “You wanna get me out of here and to the Capitol so badly, we’re going to have to have a pit stop in Nine first.”
“This is because of the Games, isn’t it?” he cried. “The other districts have nothing for us, Penn. The Capitol is where we need to be when these Games start.”
“The Hunger Games would give me purpose,” Penn told him. “Dad, when was the last time you had a chance to do something that would not only bring you honor… but glory? Who’s to say I’ll ever get this chance again? I’m eighteen. Next year, I’m not eligible anymore.”
“Penn, you can’t be in the Hunger Games!” He drove his fingers against his temple and attempted to massage it. “You won’t survive it!”
Penn was boiling. “The moment we escaped from the prison, you’ve been telling me about how I’m going to be chosen for the Games! It’s our ticket to a better life! And now the moment you realize you’re wrong, you—”
“Listen!” Dad shouted. He lowered his voice once Penn had calmed. “I could not tell you about the truth. You were supposed to be chosen for the Hunger Games. Then we were going to use the monorail to get to the Capitol and once were there, we were going to make our escape. I thought I had made absolutely certain you would be selected, but something went wrong. But never did I actually intend you to go into the Games themselves!”
“You’re unbelievable!”
“I—” started Dray.
“Shut up,” said Penn. At the same moment, Dad said, “Not now.” It was enough for Dray to sink out of the conversation. He clearly did not have a stake in it.
“I’m sorry I lied to you,” said Dad. “I believed it to be the only way tonight would go off without a hitch. If you had gone up on that stage, you needed to be nothing more than an excited Career. Eyes were on you; anything else would have tipped their suspicion.”
“How can I accept your apology? I don’t even know you!”
“For the record, I planned to tell you the truth tomorrow morning.”
“It doesn’t matter.” Penn sniffed away her tears. This was what she was doing. “Spare me the lecture, Dad. I’m going to District Nine with or without you.”
Dad darkened. “You can’t get out without my plans.”
“Oh, I know,” she replied. “But I’m going to try anyway. I might have a larger chance of not getting caught if you come with me.”
“You can’t do this… Please…”
“I don’t get why you’re fretting over this.” She slammed her hand down on the futon, and again for good measure. “I want this, Dad! I sure as hell want it more than getting to the Capitol. Now, are you coming with me or aren’t you?!”
Dad’s eyes were fire, and his beard itched. “I’m fretting because I’m not ready to let my baby girl die in someone else’s game.”
“Well I am!” she shouted. “Just think where they’re gonna come if I try and fail to use YOUR escape plan!”
He breathed a venomous sigh through his nose. It was hard for him to admit she was right, but she was. How else would she finally be able to discover who she was than these Games? “Fine,” he barked. “We’ll go to District Nine. I want you to know how much this hurts me.”
Penn was angry now. “It hurts me that you’re this against letting me bring honor to the district.”
“This ain’t about the district.” He frowned through his scratchy beard. “This is about you.”
Penn vaulted from the futon and out of Dray’s embrace. She went to the window and peeled back the curtains to watch the Careers laughing and dancing in the streets. Even though it was past curfew, the Peacekeepers passed right by. Penn was one of them. Penn was a warrior. Sure, she had to burn bridges to make new ones, it would seem, but she needed this. She told herself again that she needed this.
“Hey Penn, if you’re going to District Nine, I’m coming with you,” Dray said definitively. He stood up next to his girlfriend. “It may be new to me, but I’m going to support you every step of the way.”
Penn turned to him and sighed. She wasn’t so sure about it. “My father is coming with me for a reason, babe. He’s coming to help guide me to the other district. I appreciate your support, but I think you should really stay here. This is your home—your family. You’d leave it all behind.”
“I want to come with you,” he smiled. “I don’t care if I have to find a new life in District Nine. I’ll go on. But… Don’t leave me here alone. You were the first good thing to happen to me in a long line of bad ones. I want to be there for you.”
Penn turned and kissed him lightly on the lips. In the few seconds she took, she knew exactly what was going to happen next. She had already worked out her whole plan in her head on the way home. This was all going to be fine. She was fine…
What should Penn do?
[A. Take Dray with Her.]
[B. Leave Dray in District One.]
You have chosen Penn to [B. Leave Dray in District One.]
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Post by InGenNateKenny on May 21, 2021 22:59:44 GMT
[A. Take Dray with Her.] More dramatic this way, I reckon.
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Post by countlivin on May 22, 2021 2:00:54 GMT
[A. Take Dray with Her.] More dramatic this way, I reckon. Certainly will be more dramatic yes, with that vote I’d watch your head for Liquid 👀 What do you think of the note from Schrodinger at the end of Chapter 7?
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Post by InGenNateKenny on May 22, 2021 4:26:44 GMT
[A. Take Dray with Her.] More dramatic this way, I reckon. Certainly will be more dramatic yes, with that vote I’d watch your head for Liquid 👀 What do you think of the note from Schrodinger at the end of Chapter 7? Interesting. I like owls, a lot, so that's cool. At the same time, it is sketchy that the owl is regal, but like, it's a sign nailed to a tree on a stick. That's not too impressive.
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Post by countlivin on May 22, 2021 4:28:18 GMT
Certainly will be more dramatic yes, with that vote I’d watch your head for Liquid 👀 What do you think of the note from Schrodinger at the end of Chapter 7? Interesting. I like owls, a lot, so that's cool. At the same time, it is sketchy that the owl is regal, but like, it's a sign nailed to a tree on a stick. That's not too impressive. That’s true it is sketchy, but like is it really sketchier than the Hunger Games?
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raoul
New Member
Posts: 11
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Post by raoul on May 24, 2021 22:15:01 GMT
B. leave Dray home
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Post by LiquidChicagoTed on May 25, 2021 0:04:19 GMT
[B. Leave Dray in District One.]Ah, I don't know. I don't know about this one. Dray is alright, always has been. Penn however, not so much. Maybe he could have a good impact on her, but I am semi-convinced she's a lost cause. The only reason why I hesitate is that last time, she somehow wasn't and it still leaves me feeling very confused. I know depending on our choices she can end up somewhere between being somewhat alright-ish and being the human embodiment of the emoji, but until she ends up on either side of that scale, I'll treat her as neutral and objective as I can, which... is not very much, all things considered. I just don't like her. In all seriousness though, I have always genuinely wondered where her journey will end and while this might seem like an obvious set-up for me to say that we can't get to the end of her journey soon enough, I mean it. I wonder what is in store for her, because while I vaguely remember her Book 1 storyline, I obviously have no idea how those events might shape her, either for the marginally better or the tremendously worse. Also, I completely forgot about the whole Owl thing from Aura's storyline, but I think I remember some of the most important things now. My lips are sealed, of course, but this is very exciting!
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Post by countlivin on May 25, 2021 1:14:35 GMT
[B. Leave Dray in District One.]Ah, I don't know. I don't know about this one. Dray is alright, always has been. Penn however, not so much. Maybe he could have a good impact on her, but I am semi-convinced she's a lost cause. The only reason why I hesitate is that last time, she somehow wasn't and it still leaves me feeling very confused. I know depending on our choices she can end up somewhere between being somewhat alright-ish and being the human embodiment of the emoji, but until she ends up on either side of that scale, I'll treat her as neutral and objective as I can, which... is not very much, all things considered. I just don't like her. In all seriousness though, I have always genuinely wondered where her journey will end and while this might seem like an obvious set-up for me to say that we can't get to the end of her journey soon enough, I mean it. I wonder what is in store for her, because while I vaguely remember her Book 1 storyline, I obviously have no idea how those events might shape her, either for the marginally better or the tremendously worse. Also, I completely forgot about the whole Owl thing from Aura's storyline, but I think I remember some of the most important things now. My lips are sealed, of course, but this is very exciting! Yeah haha we’ll see how Penn turns out this time. I’ve been making quite a few changes to the original story, particularly in Saul’s and Marten’s storylines, but Penn might make it to the list as well depending on what you guys choose. I wouldn’t say she’s a lost cause but it’s still on the table. She’s definitely a cause though lol. As for the Owl, yeah I’m excited to bring another group of readers through that storyline. It was honestly the biggest reason I wanted to get back into writing this. We never got to see where it went haha
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Post by countlivin on May 25, 2021 14:10:32 GMT
You have chosen Penn to [B. Leave Dray in District One.]
When they broke apart, butterflies flitted in Penn's heart. She was happy she had a boyfriend who supported her more than her father would. Maybe he didn't understand where she was coming from, having never been a Career himself, but he was willing to try.
But she couldn't bring herself to ruin Dray. "I'm sorry," Penn told him, smiling. "I can't bring you with me." Dray looked as though he had been slapped hard across the cheek. Penn hadn't known him for nearly as long as he'd known her, yet she could tell he truly loved her. That made the hurt in his eyes all the more painful. "Don't you understand? What about your brother? What is he going to do once you're gone?" Penn had only learned of Dray's brother last night.
"I don't know," Dray said, beaten like a puppy. "I could bring him with us. Penn, you can't do this alone."
"I won't be alone. I'll have my father."
She walked over to the kitchen, trying not to let it get to her. She had won the argument after all. She was finally going to learn who she was, through the Games.
"Penn, you don't know what the Games are," Dad said, his head in his hands. He looked almost pitiful, in truth.
"Of course I do," she shot back. "You explained them to me."
"You can't go through with this..." he said, defeated. "Dray, how can you stand this?"
Dray took Penn's arm, but she could feel the doubt there. "I stand with her because I'll always be at her side." He turned and whispered. "You know I'll always be at your side, right? When you come back, you'll come back for me?"
She didn't know what to tell him.
"And when her side isn't there?" Dad was peppering him now. "What will you do then?"
Dray shook his head in determination. He truly didn't believe there was any alternative to Penn living through the Games. He was sweet. She kissed him again.
Dad hung his head, lost. He hid his face behind a fall of long, dark hair. "I'll go with you tomorrow. There is a small hole in the fence security system. It opens up for five minutes every four days. If you want to catch it, we leave at dawn."
"Thanks, Dad," Penn smiled, blowing him a kiss. "Thank you for finally agreeing with me. At least you still get to use your master escape plan! And hey, once I get back, we can make a new one to get to the Capitol and find Mom. Things are looking up."
"You've already convinced me of your reasoning." If there was a jab there, Penn chose to ignore it. "Don't ask me to be happy about it."
"I still don't understand why you're so freaked out about all of this, Dad. This is my one shot at getting back at the Reaping. I deserved to be on that stage." A lock of black hair fell across her eyes, but she didn't care enough to blow it away. "I want this more than anything, Dad."
"You want it more than you love me? More than you love Dray?" he asked, heartbroken. There was a tear in his eye. Stop making this so hard, Daddy. You're thinking about it the wrong way. I'm right.
"Daddy?" she frowned. "I don't want to leave you at all. I just don't want to give up this opportunity."
"The opportunity to participate in something there is a one in twenty-four chance of returning from?" he replied. "What if you die in the arena? Have you thought about the consequences? Dray and I... Your mother... I don't think I could go on."
"I'm going to come back," she repeated. She was so definitely sure of this, it occupied every other thought from the moment she had heard about the Games. This was all going to work out. No one was going to have to sacrifice anything. Why did he not see this?
"If she says she's going to come home, she means it," Dray added, sitting down in the open space next to the two of them. "I've never known this girl to go back on a promise. If she's sure of her word, I am too."
Dad stood and paced around the room. Momentarily, he found pause beside a hole in the wall. The way her father looked at it was slightly disconcerting. "You know nothing of the Games..." he muttered. "I've tried to give you everything you wanted in life, honey. I watched you grow up, and I was sad when I watched you leave for the Hall of Careers that first day, but I let you continue because you believed in it. When your name wasn't called, I was shocked... but I was also relieved. I never thought you'd go to these lengths. I know you better than you know yourself!"
"I know the Hunger Games better than I know you!" she shouted, standing from her seat. She had a slight height advantage over her father, and it felt good. "Ever since I woke up, I've heard nothing except your talk of the Games! What do I know about you?"
"Nothing..." he admitted. He puffed up his chest and heaved in. "Which is why, until you find yourself, you're not going to be allowed to make your own decisions. I will not be joining you if you keep up this attitude. You can count me out."
"Dad! This will take months—years! I only have this shot once! This is a part of history—the first Quarter Quell!"
"Right... Twenty-five Hunger Games now... That's where they are." He slammed his fist into the wall, making the room rattle. "That's not what they mean. Year after year, the Districts send off two of their best and brightest, and none of them ever return. Do you not fear that?"
"Death is nothing to be afraid out!" she screamed back. There was no going back now. "I already died once! This can't be any worse! And you don't have to fear death either! I'm going to come back! I'm a survivor..."
"No, you are not a fighter," her father spoke, gritting his teeth. "You are many things, honey—many wonderful things—but you are not a fighter. If you try to be a hero, you're going to fail."
"I'm coming back, Dad!" Penn shot back with a defiance that shook the ground. "And when I do, this family won't ever have to worry again. No one in this district will."
"No one in District Nine, anyway." Dad was solemn now, resigned. "Have you really thought through this at all? Say you do switch districts, and by the slightest chance, you make it into the Games. By an even slighter chance, you then emerge a victor, back in District Nine. You think this District will count you as a hero when you return? No, they'll think of you as the thief who stole their winnings to one of the most important Games in history."
Penn found a drawer in the kitchen and opened it hastily. There was a kitchen knife right where she'd left it. With the speed of a jaguar, Penn hurled it across the room, past her father, past her boyfriend, at a painting of an old man. It wasn't even framed, nor was any other painting in this wretched building. The knife landed centered between the eyes of the old man. It would have been fatal had the man been alive. "I've been able to do that since I woke up, Dad! I can't miss! I just look at something and know exactly how to hit it from thirty feet away. How can you look at that and tell me that this is a bad idea?"
A rueful darkness fell upon Dad. Slowly, he removed the knife from the painted man's skull. "I don't. I look at that and tell you that you just ruined one of your mother's last paintings."
"Stop calling her my mother! Stop calling yourself my father! I don't know you!" She was crying now, backing away from them. "I don't know any of you..."
She ran through the house, and instinctively knew the way to her room. She found her bed and buried her face in it. She didn't have a pillow to scream into, or else she would have. Who am I? she screamed internally. Who am I? There was only one way to find out: the Hunger Games.
The longer she laid there, crying in her bed, the more she started to criticize herself. She had ruined the painting... made her father cry... After a while, another voice began to whisper in her ear. You're wrong, Penn, it said. You're only going to get yourself killed. She pushed it away. The truth would only make it hurt the more.
Five minutes later, there was a loud thud, and her father let loose a cry of anguish. As the silence crept back, she could hear him weeping behind the walls. It only made her cry harder. Dray attempted to comfort the man, to little effect.
Why are they like this? Why am I like this? Penn wanted to hug both of them and pull them tight, yet every time they opened their mouths, her first instinct was to push them away. "Who am I?" she asked aloud to no one.
"You're my girl," Dray responded from the doorway, causing her to jump.
"Please, Dray... I just want to be alone right now."
He ignored her, approaching her bed. He blanketed his arm around her shoulder and she instantly felt safer. "You'll have enough time for that later. I want to spend every last moment I have with you." Penn buried her face in his shoulder and let out all the tears she had held back. "That was a tense situation, I know, but things will work themselves out."
"Dray... Tomorrow at dawn, I'm leaving," she whispered.
There was silence. For a long time, there was silence. His heartbeat rose steadily. "What about your dad?" he finally asked.
"If he wants to go to the Capitol so bad, let him go himself." She kissed him. "I'm sorry I can't take you with me. You know I want to."
Dray was crying now too. "Just don't make it goodbye. I'm terrible with goodbyes. You know I love you, right?"
"I used to..."
She laid there for so long under her boyfriend's embrace. Even counting the ones she couldn't remember, she was sure today was the most stressful day of her life. She just wanted it all to go away. She wanted to wake up tomorrow and know who she was. Alas, it was futile. And then Penn closed her eyes and drifted to sleep. Finally, she could rest. Finally, she was at peace.
End of Chapter Eight
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