Chapter 2
1129 Words
Thompson POV:
Let's get this party started.
Most kids in Panem are terrified of the Reapings. Me, I was raring to rip. It was the ultimate party, and I knew parties.
My father owned the District 2 training Academy, and as soon as I was old enough I stood to be a very wealthy young man. Not that that would change anything- I was already a very wealthy young man. And I wouldn't even need his Academy if I wasn't. Once I won the Games, I'd be even richer than he was.
I'd been training for this since I learned to walk. With my breeding and funds, I had my pick of any of the best instructors in the District, and soon enough I knew everything there was to know about winning the Games. I didn't neglect the more mannerly areas, either- I knew the finer things in life, and I intended to get them.
I was known district-wide as the man to see if you wanted a good time. I had the means to provide it, the disposal to want to, and the attractiveness to gain followers. If it was a nice day out, it was time for a joyride in one of my father's hot rods. If it turned rainy, no problem- we'd head inside my mansion and hit up the bowling alley in the basement. Whoever said money can't buy happiness obviously didn't have enough.
I wasn't the slightest bit afraid of being Reaped. Why? I planned to volunteer. I watched as our escort, Ijolite Bust, swept onstage in a stunning peacock gown with a train that reached the edge of the stage even as she stood in the middle by the bowls. With a name like that and her siren looks, I was sure she'd heard every dirty joke in the book. I know I'd told at least half of them.
She reached her slender fingers into the bowl and unfolded a slip of paper.
"Ruby Lancet!" she announced.
"I volunteer!" a girl's voice responded before "Ruby" could even step out of line. A nice little piece with black hair and blue eyes leapt onto the stage. I winked at her, but she just stared ahead.
You'll change your tune, honey, I thought. I'll have you singing to the angels.
I grabbed Ijolite's hand and reached for the sky. With my other hand I blew a kiss at the crowd. I saw my girlfriend Granite gasp and scream. My girlfriend Letitia blushed and looked away. My girlfriend Vespa clasped her hands over her heart and squealed. With my flawless physique and simmering good looks, I had my pick of the girls. And I picked and picked and picked. I treated them nice, too. With all this money, might as well buy a few pretty things for the ladies, right? Makes them all the more eager to take them off. I did a double take when one of the boys screamed "I love you too, Thompson!", but the moment was saved by another girl who sweetened the view entirely by lifting her shirt over her head.
I took in the glorious sight and grinned. This was only the beginning.
Valencia POV:
For close range fighting, get the longest weapon you can. Long range? Throwing knives all the way. Run at the Cornucopia at an angle. There will be a crowd at the front.
All these thoughts and more ran through my head as I waited for Ijolite. It didn't matter who she picked. This was my year. I'd made sure all the other kids knew what would happen if they got in the way.
In District 2, there were plenty of girls my age who knew how to fight. The Games had been around 24 years, and we knew what it took to stay alive. The training Academy had proven to be worth every penny, and District 2 already had twice the number of winners of any other district. However, those girls were in it to live. I was in it to kill.
It wasn't that I was a maniac. I didn't just run around cutting people down. It's just what my father always told me. "Never start a fight unless you're ready to destroy your opponent". He wasn't young enough to have fought in the Games, but he was the head instructor at the Academy. Even the Victors didn't piss him off. And I was ready. The kids from the outlying districts that got reaped would sort themselves out. I was here to show the other "Careers" what it meant to be a killer. Not a winner. Not a survivor. Not a champion to be surrounded by fans and showered with adoration. A killer who would end anyone who got in her way and watch the life bleed from their bodies not with fear, and not with pleasure, but with nothing at all.
Ijolite called out a name.
"I volunteer!" I shouted. I walked to the stage and stood beside Thompson. I knew him, of course. There wasn't a soul in 1 who didn't. I didn't associate with him. He was a vapid, showboating i***t. Who did he think he was, volunteering when I knew he couldn't so much as hit the ground with a spear? I saw him in the Academy now and then, flailing around with weapons with his entourage of drooling fans cheering him on. He wasn't worth my time, and he wasn't worth the energy it took to kill him.
I felt Thompson's leer and ignored him. Let him have his fun. He'd be dead in a few days anyway. He winked at me and I rolled my eyes.
That's one of my allies, I thought with disgust. For Panem's sake, I hope the rest aren't completely brainless.
Ijolite gripped my hand and raised it.
"Let's have a big round of applause for Thompson Kirstein and Venus Lorieta! And may the odds be ever in your favor!"
The odds were in my favor, with my skills and my endurance. But that didn't matter. Hang the odds. I was going to win and that was that.
Heads up: I got a pretty diverse bunch of tributes, but there are two things they tend to share. Nearly all the girls are short- from 5 feet to 5'4", and just about every tribute is a fast runner. The short thing shouldn't really matter, but the Bloodbath is going to be more or less evened out since all the tributes are fast. If you sent in a fast tribute, that doesn't mean they're dead meat, but a couple of them might still get caught and die. The guys had a little more variety, but they're still shorter than I expected. Guess we'll see what happens.
- Writer
