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Post by Cherry on Mar 25, 2012 18:07:03 GMT -8
DISTRICT 4 REAPINGS The air smelled of salt and fish. But really, mostly fish. This is what Alice Bales noticed as she mounted the stage for District 4's reapings this year. Alice wore heavy jewelry and extravagant clothes, but this was her very first year as a District escort for the Hunger Games. Which was perhaps why the Capitol sent her to such a smelly District this year. But that was alright, she would make an impression and she remained positive that this would prove to be a very exciting year. Her first year up close and personal with Tributes! She dreamed of this her whole life. Only, without the fish. But at least thus is a Career District.
She came back to reality as the Anthem ended with her favorite flourish, her heart thudded with excitement. Her eyes swept the crowd watching the last 18 year olds file in the back of the crowd. She gave them a wide mouthed smile, ready to start this years Games off right.
“Hello, hello, hello!” She quipped with bright eyes. “And welcome, we are thrilled to pick one young man and woman as Tributes for this years Annual Hunger Games! And I must say, I am quite excited!” Alice left no time to waste as she flew to the huge glass bowls on her left and right. She returned to the microphone holding two identical looking slips of paper, and looked at the countless heads of people. She patted down her large necklace that bunched up slightly at the nape of her neck.
“Exciting isn't it?” She ignored the quiet that answered her question. “Hm, well, here we go!
And may the odds be ever in your favor.
I'll pick randomly, hm? Spice it up a bit?” She giggled excitedly as she unrolled a slip of paper and instantly called out the carefully printed name,
“Aster Skyline.” She called out in her inherited Capitol accent.
“Oh,” She chuckled again, “Not quite sure which gender you are dear, by your name, but I will pick things up.” Aware that this was in fact her first reaping, Alice continued to act rather quickly out of nervousness, and suddenly unrolled the next slip,
“Grant Gray.” |
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Post by Aster Skylin on Mar 29, 2012 18:49:55 GMT -8
Aster was speechless as she heard her name announced by the crazy Capitol woman. Her mouth hung slightly agape, but she closed it quickly. She held her head high, pulled her shoulders back, and walked confidently towards the stage, though inside she was falling apart.
She glared at the Capitol woman as she stood on the stage, arms crossed.
"Aster is a girl's name," she said, deadly quiet, just loud enough for the woman to hear.
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Post by Grant Gray on Mar 30, 2012 14:38:40 GMT -8
Grant's hand was planted firmly on his sister's tense shoulder, a stern expression on his face as he listened for the first name.
Aster Skylin.
Grant's hand relaxed on his sister's shoulder, slackening with relief. His sister had not been reaped. He knew Aster hardly -- in fact he could never recall them even exchanging words -- but he knew who she was. Aster was a girl. And at her price, his sister was spared.
He looked down to Catty, his eyes light with another year passing of her safety. As she looked back at him, her face flushed white.
Grant Gray.
Grant only blinked in response, the air filled with the lingering cadence of the microphone, the sighs of relief and the mumbled prayers. The lingering syllables of his own name. Grant felt his sister's hand clasp his wrist, looking at him with wild, wide eyes, her lips parting to speak, to scream her disagreement, but he reached out and covered her mouth gently.
"No, Catty. Just -- don't" he said softly, swallowing the sudden, cracking dryness in his mouth. He felt the eyes on him, the surrounding, burning stares that dug holes into his skull. They lived in a Career Tribute district. Someone could easily step up, volunteer to take his place. It had happened before, he'd born witness to it with grateful eyes. He silently pleaded within his shock for someone to be proud.
Yet as he turned to his sister again and hugged her tightly, no one moved but the Peacekeepers who were perhaps beginning to lose their patience. So Grant walked forward. Not proud, not confident. Simply as Grant. And as he stood aside Aster, who's calmness -- regardless of whether it was genuine or not -- intimidated him. He said nothing, only stared at the sea of familiar faces. They donned pity, though he knew they did not pity the pair more than they were thankful for their own safety.
Grant's eyes wavered. One of the pair of them, at the least, was going to die. He locked on to Catty's flushed face. It was not going to be him.
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Post by Aster Skylin on Mar 30, 2012 15:49:55 GMT -8
Aster stared at the boy she just barely recognized standing on the stage with her. She could not lose the Games. She would win. And if it had to be, Grant would die. She turned her bluish-gray-green eyes to the sea of people standing solemnly in their best attire. Aster herself was wearing a simple chocolate brown dress that had lace embroidered on the neckline, sleeves, and bottom of the dress. She tugged at the lace on her sleeve, ripping it slightly.
She then began to breathe hard and fast, her calm demeanor slowly cracking. She could not lose. She wouldn't. Her family needed her, depended on her. If only some eager, proud, and foolish girl would take her place. If only. But the crowd was silent, and she clenched her hands into fists, nails digging sharply into her skin until blood was drawn.
She was frustrated. And angry. And sad. And so many emotions that she just couldn't keep inside.
Aster ran a hand through her long dirty blonde hair, looking back over at Grant.
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