Post by ƤαƖƖαѕ ✧ on Jul 8, 2019 15:19:32 GMT -5
"Amadrya Darrow!"
A twelve-year-old girl stood in the crowd in the square in District 7, wearing her nicest dress and with her hair done in an elaborate style. The girl had dark hair, lightly tanned skin and sharp grey eyes. She was a slip of a thing really, scrappy and slim, but while she lacked fat she did appear to have lean, springy muscles uncharacteristic for someone as young as her outside her district. Lots of the children her age in District 7 were similar, skinny but showing some sinewy muscle. She was a little tall for her age, her gangly limbs suggesting she would grow to be a rather tall young woman.
Though her chances of growing up were now severely diminished.
The Capitol escort's eyes were searching the crowd now, crowing the name again as she searched the faces of the crowd. But Amadrya's time was up; with the calling of her name, the girls surrounding her turned to look at her, backing up slightly. The escort's gaze fell on the nervous young girl.
"Ah, there you are, dear. Come on up!"
The woman was beckoning now, but there was a slight impatience in her demeanour. She would have to get this over with. And so, with the crowd parting around her, the brunette took a few shaky steps towards the stage.
But she looked over her shoulder suddenly, her head jerking as her attention was pulled by the sound of a commotion from the boys' side of the square. Her youngest cousin, Linden, was crying out and struggling to reach Amadrya, or so it would seem. He was only a year older than her, at thirteen, but despite his younger age his emotion seemed to give him strength. It took both eighteen-year-old Ackley and sixteen-year-old Firth to hold him back.
"Maddie, don't go up there!" Linden was screaming "You can't! Someone volunteer for her, it isn't fair!"
"Do you want the peacekeepers to get involved?" Amadrya caught Ackley's warning over the breeze
But Linden appeared inconsolable, and his crying caused tears to prick in the girl's own eyes.
"I'll volunteer," Ackley could be heard suggesting to Firth, "Volunteer for the boy and go in with her, protect her. I'm bigger, stronger..."
"And guarantee that our family loses someone? You can't do that, Ackley." came Firth's reply
Firth's words were accompanied by Amadrya's own reaction. She caught Ackley's eye, and shook her head subtly. He could not volunteer. It would benefit nobody. Ackley seemed to understand that, and nodded. But he looked pained
But the cameras were on her now and the Capitol escort seemed to be growing ever more impatient. Amadrya figured it was more than time for her to ascend the steps to the stage. She did so, and was directed to a spot to stand by the Capitol woman.
"Alright, now that's done," the woman said with a tight smile "it's time for the boys"
While the woman disappeared to choose a male tribute, and the cameras were away from her for a moment, Amadrya took the opportunity to wipe the tears still lingering on her cheeks. She would not be seen as a weakling, she would not let her cousins or her district see her cry. She was already going to be seen as weak, a goner already because she was only twelve. And she accepted that, she knew that. But why on earth should she lower her chances just because they were already low? No, that was not going to be what she did.
----------------------
It was time for the interviews; the young girl was dressed in a floaty knee-length dress, various shades of green colouring the fabric. Her eyes had some green eyeshadow and were lined with gold eyeliner, and her lips were the red of autumn leaves. Her hair was left loose and decorated with leaves, and little glowing lights like fireflies. She looked like what her name meant; a tree-nymph. She had been told to go for young and innocent, her stylist and mentor unable to come up with another angle for someone as young as Amadrya. They didn't know her at all; they didn't even seem to know how much she hated dresses.
And as she walked across the stage to take her seat she refused to go along with it, her arms were crossed and she was almost scowling.
"Well, don't you make quite the image, Miss Darrow?" chuckled the interviewer as he gestured for Amadrya to sit down.
She did so, crossing her legs but still not moving her arms from their folded position. She could imagine her mentor yelling at her about this, but she honestly didn't care anymore at this point.
"Now, Amadrya, how are you finding the Capitol?" the interviewer asked, clearly hoping to draw some comment from the young girl after her initial silence.
"It's great, but I'm sure my talking about the Capitol isn't what everyone tuned in for tonight," Amadrya shot back.
She wasn't wanting to make friends anymore, or to get sponsors. She was here to speak the truth, to let her anger about these Games radiate. What difference would any of this make anyway to her actual outcome of the Games?
"Okay, well, tell us about your family."
"No, my family life is private to me, I don't feel like sharing that with all of Panem. Some things have to be kept sacred. Besides, I'm twelve, don't I have the sympathy card on my side already? All you need to know is that I have three cousins and my uncle."
"No parents?"
"Dead."
She would not give this interviewer anything. Perhaps if she played this how she wanted to, she would get sponsors still, sponsors who appreciated her bravery and honesty. SPonsors who might think she had more of a chance than every other twelve-year-old who came through and pretended to be innocent. That never got them anywhere; innocence earned them sympathy but the strategic betters avoided them when possible, they weren't viable victors. Perhaps she could differentiate herself and mke herself seem like someone that could be betted on despite her youth. But if she didn't? It wouldn't harm Amadrya, she knew she wasn't going to survive anyway.
"Alright, and what kind of skills do you have that might benefit you in the Arena?"
"Well, I'm strong for my age, I can climb. And stop me if you've heard this before from, I don't know, literally every other District 7 tribute ever, I can use an axe pretty well."
"An axe?"
Amadrya nodded.
"You're an intriguing young girl, Amadrya. I take it you plan on playing offensively?"
"Within reason; I'm well aware that I would be unlikely to survive an encounter with many of the older and larger tributes this year. But I can hold my own in a fight. And why shouldn't I play offensively? Just because I'm the youngest tribute doesn't mean I have to do everything the same way every other twelve-year-old before me did, running around and playing the cute card for sponsors. Every other twelve-year-old tribute before me has died, somehow I think getting off the beaten track might be my best bet."
That seemed to get the crowd's attention.
"And are you ready for the Games?"
For the first time in that interview, Amadrya felt like the crowd was hanging on her every word. They actually wanted to know what she had to say, they weren't disregarding her just because of her young age, as they had been before
"Oh, I'm ready, but I don't think anyone else is," Amadrya said with a chuckle.
........................
It was mid-way through the Games, and to be fair Amadrya was shocked that she had even survived this far. An injury thanks to one of the Careers had left her unable to travel, and so she had gone into hiding after running from the site of the attack by the careers, where she had previously been hiding out. Now she had a new base, but it could hardly been called that now that she had been separated from all of her supplies, which had undoubtedly been claimed by the careers.
She had gotten away from the careers with a broken leg and an injury to the torso. She had managed to suppress the bleeding from her torso, but hadn't completely stemmed it. She still couldn't really walk, though she had tried to. She was weak with the blood loss and lacking the use of one of her legs. She had, nevertheless, been attempting to find water for a couple of days now but to no avail. She was severely dehydrated, and it had gotten to the point that travelling to find water was causing her to become too weak, it was worse than her just staying still. She had to conserve her energy.
She knew that water was getting too expensive at this point in the games and her mentor was probably focussing on her district partner anyway, who she knew was uninjured and safe with his own stash of supplies somewhere across the Arena. She wouldn't be getting any water from sponsors.
She lay in the new building she had made her home, staring outside the window at the dusty Arena outside. It was dark inside the building, and cool, which was helping her a little. But it was bright outside, which was pleasant too.
She couldn't speak now, she was too hoarse, and she could hardly move with her weakness. Her mouth was dry, her lips chapped, her vision getting hazy.
The twelve-year-old was slowly drifting in and out of consciousness, and she knew now that she would lose consciousness again soon and likely not wake up. That way okay, it beat the way most kids her age died in the Games. An easy kill for a Career, a practice kill to get warmed up. She had survived longer than most people her age did, or at least the ones who weren't in alliances anyway. Perhaps she had even made Games history by being the longest-lasting twelve-year-old ever. She doubted it, but perhaps. It didn't really matter to her anyway.
She thought about home instead, her family and the trees and the forest, letting those thoughts fill her mind as her breathing slowed and she felt her pulse faltering. Her eyes flitted shut and she heard the distant sound of a canon.
A twelve-year-old girl stood in the crowd in the square in District 7, wearing her nicest dress and with her hair done in an elaborate style. The girl had dark hair, lightly tanned skin and sharp grey eyes. She was a slip of a thing really, scrappy and slim, but while she lacked fat she did appear to have lean, springy muscles uncharacteristic for someone as young as her outside her district. Lots of the children her age in District 7 were similar, skinny but showing some sinewy muscle. She was a little tall for her age, her gangly limbs suggesting she would grow to be a rather tall young woman.
Though her chances of growing up were now severely diminished.
The Capitol escort's eyes were searching the crowd now, crowing the name again as she searched the faces of the crowd. But Amadrya's time was up; with the calling of her name, the girls surrounding her turned to look at her, backing up slightly. The escort's gaze fell on the nervous young girl.
"Ah, there you are, dear. Come on up!"
The woman was beckoning now, but there was a slight impatience in her demeanour. She would have to get this over with. And so, with the crowd parting around her, the brunette took a few shaky steps towards the stage.
But she looked over her shoulder suddenly, her head jerking as her attention was pulled by the sound of a commotion from the boys' side of the square. Her youngest cousin, Linden, was crying out and struggling to reach Amadrya, or so it would seem. He was only a year older than her, at thirteen, but despite his younger age his emotion seemed to give him strength. It took both eighteen-year-old Ackley and sixteen-year-old Firth to hold him back.
"Maddie, don't go up there!" Linden was screaming "You can't! Someone volunteer for her, it isn't fair!"
"Do you want the peacekeepers to get involved?" Amadrya caught Ackley's warning over the breeze
But Linden appeared inconsolable, and his crying caused tears to prick in the girl's own eyes.
"I'll volunteer," Ackley could be heard suggesting to Firth, "Volunteer for the boy and go in with her, protect her. I'm bigger, stronger..."
"And guarantee that our family loses someone? You can't do that, Ackley." came Firth's reply
Firth's words were accompanied by Amadrya's own reaction. She caught Ackley's eye, and shook her head subtly. He could not volunteer. It would benefit nobody. Ackley seemed to understand that, and nodded. But he looked pained
But the cameras were on her now and the Capitol escort seemed to be growing ever more impatient. Amadrya figured it was more than time for her to ascend the steps to the stage. She did so, and was directed to a spot to stand by the Capitol woman.
"Alright, now that's done," the woman said with a tight smile "it's time for the boys"
While the woman disappeared to choose a male tribute, and the cameras were away from her for a moment, Amadrya took the opportunity to wipe the tears still lingering on her cheeks. She would not be seen as a weakling, she would not let her cousins or her district see her cry. She was already going to be seen as weak, a goner already because she was only twelve. And she accepted that, she knew that. But why on earth should she lower her chances just because they were already low? No, that was not going to be what she did.
----------------------
It was time for the interviews; the young girl was dressed in a floaty knee-length dress, various shades of green colouring the fabric. Her eyes had some green eyeshadow and were lined with gold eyeliner, and her lips were the red of autumn leaves. Her hair was left loose and decorated with leaves, and little glowing lights like fireflies. She looked like what her name meant; a tree-nymph. She had been told to go for young and innocent, her stylist and mentor unable to come up with another angle for someone as young as Amadrya. They didn't know her at all; they didn't even seem to know how much she hated dresses.
And as she walked across the stage to take her seat she refused to go along with it, her arms were crossed and she was almost scowling.
"Well, don't you make quite the image, Miss Darrow?" chuckled the interviewer as he gestured for Amadrya to sit down.
She did so, crossing her legs but still not moving her arms from their folded position. She could imagine her mentor yelling at her about this, but she honestly didn't care anymore at this point.
"Now, Amadrya, how are you finding the Capitol?" the interviewer asked, clearly hoping to draw some comment from the young girl after her initial silence.
"It's great, but I'm sure my talking about the Capitol isn't what everyone tuned in for tonight," Amadrya shot back.
She wasn't wanting to make friends anymore, or to get sponsors. She was here to speak the truth, to let her anger about these Games radiate. What difference would any of this make anyway to her actual outcome of the Games?
"Okay, well, tell us about your family."
"No, my family life is private to me, I don't feel like sharing that with all of Panem. Some things have to be kept sacred. Besides, I'm twelve, don't I have the sympathy card on my side already? All you need to know is that I have three cousins and my uncle."
"No parents?"
"Dead."
She would not give this interviewer anything. Perhaps if she played this how she wanted to, she would get sponsors still, sponsors who appreciated her bravery and honesty. SPonsors who might think she had more of a chance than every other twelve-year-old who came through and pretended to be innocent. That never got them anywhere; innocence earned them sympathy but the strategic betters avoided them when possible, they weren't viable victors. Perhaps she could differentiate herself and mke herself seem like someone that could be betted on despite her youth. But if she didn't? It wouldn't harm Amadrya, she knew she wasn't going to survive anyway.
"Alright, and what kind of skills do you have that might benefit you in the Arena?"
"Well, I'm strong for my age, I can climb. And stop me if you've heard this before from, I don't know, literally every other District 7 tribute ever, I can use an axe pretty well."
"An axe?"
Amadrya nodded.
"You're an intriguing young girl, Amadrya. I take it you plan on playing offensively?"
"Within reason; I'm well aware that I would be unlikely to survive an encounter with many of the older and larger tributes this year. But I can hold my own in a fight. And why shouldn't I play offensively? Just because I'm the youngest tribute doesn't mean I have to do everything the same way every other twelve-year-old before me did, running around and playing the cute card for sponsors. Every other twelve-year-old tribute before me has died, somehow I think getting off the beaten track might be my best bet."
That seemed to get the crowd's attention.
"And are you ready for the Games?"
For the first time in that interview, Amadrya felt like the crowd was hanging on her every word. They actually wanted to know what she had to say, they weren't disregarding her just because of her young age, as they had been before
"Oh, I'm ready, but I don't think anyone else is," Amadrya said with a chuckle.
........................
It was mid-way through the Games, and to be fair Amadrya was shocked that she had even survived this far. An injury thanks to one of the Careers had left her unable to travel, and so she had gone into hiding after running from the site of the attack by the careers, where she had previously been hiding out. Now she had a new base, but it could hardly been called that now that she had been separated from all of her supplies, which had undoubtedly been claimed by the careers.
She had gotten away from the careers with a broken leg and an injury to the torso. She had managed to suppress the bleeding from her torso, but hadn't completely stemmed it. She still couldn't really walk, though she had tried to. She was weak with the blood loss and lacking the use of one of her legs. She had, nevertheless, been attempting to find water for a couple of days now but to no avail. She was severely dehydrated, and it had gotten to the point that travelling to find water was causing her to become too weak, it was worse than her just staying still. She had to conserve her energy.
She knew that water was getting too expensive at this point in the games and her mentor was probably focussing on her district partner anyway, who she knew was uninjured and safe with his own stash of supplies somewhere across the Arena. She wouldn't be getting any water from sponsors.
She lay in the new building she had made her home, staring outside the window at the dusty Arena outside. It was dark inside the building, and cool, which was helping her a little. But it was bright outside, which was pleasant too.
She couldn't speak now, she was too hoarse, and she could hardly move with her weakness. Her mouth was dry, her lips chapped, her vision getting hazy.
The twelve-year-old was slowly drifting in and out of consciousness, and she knew now that she would lose consciousness again soon and likely not wake up. That way okay, it beat the way most kids her age died in the Games. An easy kill for a Career, a practice kill to get warmed up. She had survived longer than most people her age did, or at least the ones who weren't in alliances anyway. Perhaps she had even made Games history by being the longest-lasting twelve-year-old ever. She doubted it, but perhaps. It didn't really matter to her anyway.
She thought about home instead, her family and the trees and the forest, letting those thoughts fill her mind as her breathing slowed and she felt her pulse faltering. Her eyes flitted shut and she heard the distant sound of a canon.
