The clinking of pint glasses on the morning of Draw Day in District 5, otherwise known as The Fallout District, was a familiar sound. Yes, the people in District 5 has very little in the way of money, but come Draw Day, almost every member of District 5 would be found in the pub, as long as they were legally able to, of course.
Much like District 4, which is also known as The Umineko District, the members of District 5 didn’t have much in the way of a lavish life, and they were often grouped together in discussions of the poorest people in Contestia. In reality though, District 5 was much worse. Roads were merely mud paths, houses were made of wood and constantly flooded during the wet season, people died of starvation on a regular basis due to lack of supply and money. The lucky ones in District 5 were the families that had small shops, or who’s men worked in the mines, and they could bring some sort of income and food. To be fair this was a vast majority of the District, but there seemed to be far more cases of death than all the other Districts put together.
This had given the civilians of District 5 a keen sense of survival, and grit and determination in whatever they did. Although no-one wished to be part of any Hunger Games, they always provided entertainment for the people watching in the Capital, as many were very spontaneous, messy fighters, and always brought about the most watchable deaths. Despite this keen survival instinct that most possessed, The Games was always far too much for any of them, the highest a member of District 5 ever placed was fourth, a couple of years back, and more often than not, they were eliminated towards the beginning, usually because of their rash movements and behaviour, and their inability to think through a situation.
Today was a dark day in The Fallout District, and a day to drink away their sorrows and fears of the impending midday Draw. Doors opened at 7am on Draw Day, and in one pub, named The Sum, two childhood friends were already on their fifth pint of the day.
“I am gonna be SO ****ing hammered come midday” Alec, a tall well built miner, with skin that had darkened due to being in the mines, said as he took another swig of his drink.
“If I’m less drunk than you, I’m gonna be so disappointed!” Comm, also a miner with charcoaled skin, scraggly black hair, and a slight scar under his left eye replied, whilst matching his friend swig for swig.
Alec and Comm had grown up next door to each other in the slums of District 5. When Comm’s parents had died when he was only 9, Alec’s family let him stay with him, despite having another mouth to feed. Alec’s parents died shortly after his 19th birthday, and now Alec and Comm lived together in his parents house. Both managed to get mining jobs at the age of 20, and 5 years down the line they had never struggled to put food on their plate at the end of the day.
“Awww ****!!!” Came a voice from behind Comm. “I gotta hell of a lot of catching up to do!”
“Sleep in again Justin?” Alec laughed, as a young looking man with white blonde hair sat down next to him.
“Hey Justin, are you even OLD enough to be in here?!” Comm broke out in laughter, almost spilling some of his pint.
“Wow, that joke really never gets old does it…” Justin said sarcastically.
Justin in fact looked extremely young, often mistake for someone of the age of as low as fourteen he often got questioning looks when entering the pubs of District 5. This pub though, knew him well, and he knew he was always welcome here, despite being the butt of every joke going.
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~C~ - NIO BUNNY - http://img.imgcake.com/nio/76ayvpngam.png A Hot Dog will make you a fatty, a SuperNiceDog will make you a GURU!
“So… Draw Day again eh?” Justin said sipping his pint. “Comes round so goddamn quick!”
“Ugh don’t remind me” Alec looked glum. “If I get picked I think I would top myself before even entering the Arena, would probably be a much more bearable death.”
Comm looked deep in to his pint glass, as if looking for some sort of salvation from the coming events of the day. “Yeh…” He eventually said. “It would suck to get drawn out of that devil of a glass bowl.”
--------------------- “Morning Doc” a glum voice came from the person sitting on the bar stool next to him.
“Hey Mai.” Doc replied raising his pint glass in a toasting fashion.
Doc Football was the only “doctor” in the whole of the district. He had never been medically trained, but his father had taught him a few remedies and how to detect for diseases and such. He had been essential for saving a number of lives within the District, and almost everybody knew of him. As he adjusted his glasses, which were held together by a piece of tape, he imagined what life in the District would be like without him. The death rate would be a hell of a lot higher that’s for sure. If he got picked today for The Games… Well… It wouldn’t even bear thinking about.
“Lost in thought?” Mai, an attractive girl for someone living in the lower Districts, and still with all her teeth, asked the doctor.
“Yeh.” Doc replied. “I always think what this place would come to without me… Ya know, if I get picked today.”
“Ah don’t worry bout it” Mai replied, almost buoyantly, taking a swig of her beer. “The odds are pretty damn low, it’s the way I always see it. Just gotta hope for the best really Doc.”
Mai Immortal lived on what one would call the wealthier side of District 5. It was only regarded as wealthier because the wooden houses there were slightly sturdier than others, and better built. She was an attractive girl, which is dangerous in District 5, as most of the men are hungry for lust, to feel something good for once in their mostly miserable existences. Mai was a tough girl though, and the men had learnt not to take her for granted, or as an easy target, in some ways she had even earnt their respect.
--------------- As the sun shone down on what seemed like a good and rare sunny day in The Fallout District, Jeffrey Raze pulled the remaining weeds out of the ground around him. Him and his wife Naomi grew herbs. A rare profession in a District full of miners, but one that had got them by for years.
Jeffrey stood up and took a quick glance around him to make sure no-one was around. He was on the edge of the district, in an area where he thought know one knew, and the area where him and Naomi grew their herbs.
“You gonna help at all today Naomi, or you just gonna sit there getting stoned?” Jeffrey asked his wife, hand on hips.
Naomi was leaning back on a tree, letting her jet black hair flow down her side. She took a puff on the small white cylindrical tube she had in her hand, inhaled deeply, and eventually breathed out the smoke.
“…Yep” she eventually replied, smiling vacantly.
Jeffrey and Naomi also grew “Special Herbs”, which the authorities of District 5 allowed them to grow, as long as they got a cut for free everytime a new batch was produced. This actually made the pair of them the most money.
“You’re completely baked aren’t you?” Jeffrey asked, who only smoked the special herbs occasionly.
“…Yep” Naomi replied again, laughing deeply.
Jeffrey paused for a moment, looking at her. “**** it!” He eventually said. “It is Draw Day, give that here!” And he outstretched his hand.
Naomi gave him what he desired, still smiling, and Jeffrey took a long drag.
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~C~ - NIO BUNNY - http://img.imgcake.com/nio/76ayvpngam.png A Hot Dog will make you a fatty, a SuperNiceDog will make you a GURU!
“One of us is definitely gonna get picked today. You know how racist that King Link is!” A bald dark skinned man retorted as he ordered a beer from the bar.
“Dizzy you know its completely random, everyones name is in that bowl.” Replied a girl of equal race with short dirty black hair that looked like it hadn’t been washed in a while.
“So you say Gen, so you say.” Dizzy said “But it ****ing wouldn’t surprise me if those bastards put our names in to the bowl like a hundred off times to increase our chances of being chosen.”
“Don’t be so ****ing pessimistic!” Gen responded angrily. “You’re like this every ****ing year and we still haven’t been picked so shut the **** up!”
“Yeh but look how many other ****ing ******s get picked! One every ****ing year. Now you look around here and tell me how many other ******s you see?! Huh?! Not that many eh?” Dizzy shouted “They’re ****ing rigging it I tell ya!”
“God you piss me off Dizzy.” Gen stared daggers in to his eyes. “We may be married but I really hate you sometimes.”
With that Gen got up and stormed off through the door of the pub. “**** him!” She said to herself. “Every year is the same…”
She started to wander slowly towards the District Square where the Draw was being held.
When she got there, unsurprisingly, it was pretty empty. There was still an hour to the Draw, and she suspected most people were still in the pubs, drinking away the reality of today.
The district square wasn’t much to look at. It basically was a large area of mud formed in to the shape of a square. A wooden stage had been erected at one end though.
She spied a small trio of young men at the other end of the square, kicking about what looked to be a poorly custom made soccer ball. They must be too young to drink, she thought. She hoped they were also younger than 16, too young to be in the Draw for The Games.
------------- “Man I can’t wait til next year when we can actually get drunk before the Draw” said Han, kicking the ball accurately to his friends feet.
“Yeh, not being old enough to drink, but being old enough for tribute selection is a ****ing joke!” Mik responded, passing the ball onwards to the third and final member of their little group.
Whatis controlled the ball and looked up at the wooden stage at the other end of the square to where they were playing. “It would be a total ***** if one of us was selected and we had never tasted alcohol.” He said.
He then turned to them and smiled. “Which is why I brought this!” He pulled out a small dirty tin flask from the back pocket of his ripped and scruffy shorts.
“What the hell is that?!” Han asked, mesmerised.
“It’s a drinking flask” Whatis answered. “I stole it from my Dad and filled it with some of his beer he had left over.”
The drinking age in District 5 was 18. But the age to be eligible for The Hunger Games was 16. The three boys were all 17, and in that horrible limbo age where you couldn’t drink. Drinking underage was highly illegal and if caught, was punishable by death, so many didn’t dare do it.
“Oh man…” Mik said, looking around him, but the Square was deserted, except for a black woman who was now facing away from them.
“Ok” Han said “Lets drink it quickly before anyone sees.”
“My thoughts exactly” Whatis smiled as he undid the cap of the flask and took a swig.
He immediately spluttered and coughed. “Ugh!” He exclaimed. “It tastes like ****!”
“Here lemme taste” Han outstretched his hand and grabbed the flask. After one swig he came to the same conclusion, wincing slightly as he swallowed. “Yeh… That is disgusting.”
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~C~ - NIO BUNNY - http://img.imgcake.com/nio/76ayvpngam.png A Hot Dog will make you a fatty, a SuperNiceDog will make you a GURU!
“Give it here you babies” Mik grabbed the flask and took a gulp.
“Oh my god!” He exclaimed “Why the hell would anyone wanna drink that?!”
The boys tipped the remaining contents of the flask away and continued their kickabout, thoroughly disappointed with their first taste of beer.
“I’m sure we’ll get used to it…” Han said positively.
“Yeh… If we get the chance too.” Mik replied glumy.
-------------------- Midday came, and as by law, everyone in the District was present in and around the Square. Many were drunk, some were stoned, others were even passing out out on the floor.
The mayor of District 5, who wasn’t drunk as he knew the TV cameras were on him walked up to the stage.
“You all hate this day, I hate this day, so lets just get this over with quickly.” He said in to the microphone. “I know you’re all drunk, but if you get picked, try not to make a fool out of yourself, lets try and have a good year for representation yeh?”
A loud drunken boo echoed round the crowd.
“Whatever.” The mayor retorted sticking his hand in to the glass bowl in front of him, pulling out the first tribute’s name. “Comm Adore.” He read out loudly.
“Comm! Comm!” Justin shouted, trying to shake his friend awake, who was lying in a drunken heap on the floor. “Get the hell up man you got picked!”
“Huh?!” Comm said drowsily. “I got licked? By who?! Was it a chick?!” He slurred.
“No” Justin said panicstricken, the callout of his friends name immediately sobering up. “You got picked as a tribute for The Hunger Games.”
Comm had no idea what Justin was saying. He was struggling to focus. “Just let me go back to sleep Justin” He managed to get out.
“No, you have to go up on stage, or they’ll kill you and draw out another name.” Justin said, helping his friend to his feet.
Justin held up Comm and walked him to the stage, leaving they’re other friend Alec face down in the mud, dead to the world. They reached the stage and Justin pushed Comm up the stairs.
The mayor rolled his eyes at the scene unfolding before him as Comm crawled on his hands and knees towards him. The mayor crouched down next to him.
“Anything you want to say to the crowd?” The mayor asked
“…Whats going on? Where am I?” Comm slurred.
“Excellent.” The mayor said standing back up. “Just great” He muttered under his breath.
“Lets hope the next one isn’t steaming drunk” He announced as he dipped his hand in to the bowl once more. “Though I wouldn’t count my chickens…”
He unravelled the piece of paper and spoke loudly once again in to the microphone. “Gen Saga!”
Gen, who had not met back up with her husband, had never felt more alone as she did now. She quickly scanned the crowd but couldn’t see him and had no choice but to just walk up to the stage.
“Well at least you seem sober. Hopefully that will work in your favour” The mayor smiled at Gen as she greeted him. Behind them, Comm was puking over the back of the wooden stage.
“Gen! GEN!” Came a call from the traditionally silent crowd.
Gen looked in the direction of the voice she recognised. It was Dizzy’s, pushing his way through the crowd looking distraught. Her beautiful husband, she thought, no doubt he was going to shout to her words of encouragement, was going to tell her that he loved her, and that everything was going to be ok.
Dizzy pushed to the front of the crowd, looked up at her, and pointed.
“See! I ****ing told you!” He shouted. “Racists!”
Chapter End
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~C~ - NIO BUNNY - http://img.imgcake.com/nio/76ayvpngam.png A Hot Dog will make you a fatty, a SuperNiceDog will make you a GURU!
I will send all tributes 3 separate questions in a Private Message that will be the "interview questions". Please respond to me by Monday morning with your answers. They can be as short or as long as you like. I will explain more in the PM.
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~C~ - NIO BUNNY - http://img.imgcake.com/nio/76ayvpngam.png A Hot Dog will make you a fatty, a SuperNiceDog will make you a GURU!
As the apparently in-character expert on winners (I've covered Games, y'know), my kneejerk ranking of each district's pair of tributes based on their perceived strength:
Deadpool really brings down District 2 because I've never seen him before this project or outside it, and thus he's a completely unknown quantity. Though I guess I don't really know flubbin that well either.
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"Oh God, maplejet's trying to be cool again. I'll call the ambulance." - Wylvane [NO BARKLEY NO PEACE]
Halo, you don't know my relationship with Gen very well. She is my baby momma, and not the one I shirk child support with. I got my girl until the end.
Also, questions received. Excellent questions. You are quite the interviewer.
Oh right, I forgot she was your baby momma. But she's married in this story so we'll see what happens. Should be exciting! Either way, one of you (preferably both of you) has to die.