Nothing Personal

District Nine Reaping

"Hello all, and can I say what an honour it is to be here in lovely District Nine today!"

People carried on talking, some of the seedier people talking about odds, most of the others discussing crops.

"Erm, hello?"

Nobody shut up.

"Oi! I am trying to talk here!"

Some people tittered, but enough people went quiet for the escort to be able to continue. She was certain that District Nine meant to make her life a misery.

"Okay, is everyone settled down? Good. Now, the history of our glorious Panem..."

They started talking again. She ploughed on anyway, raising her voice until it wouldn't go any louder. Nobody was looking at her; everyone seemed very interested in their feet, or the cloud formations, or the ridiculous tiny buildings that looked like they could collapse any second. 

She couldn't see what they found that was quite so interesting. Most of them were barefoot, which made her shudder once she noticed it. The cloud formations were pretty, she supposed, but she saw clouds every day and they were boring and they sometimes meant rain.

For some reason, her escort-mentor had quite liked Nine. She couldn't see it herself. Yes, there was a lot of space and the weather was usually very nice - although she'd heard once that there had maybe been a tornado - and there was something quaintly charming about the little stone cottages with straw roofs. But it wasn't colourful. It wasn't lively. People just did their thing and ignored everybody else's business.

In short, it wasn't the Capitol.

"And so began the Hunger Games. Now, onto the actual reapings themselves. Are you all very excited" - she heard 'lovely day for it' from somewhere in the crowd - "...here comes the girl...Ellie Cole!" 

Everyone went totally silent. 

"Stay right where you are, Ellie!" ordered a distuptive female voice from near the front of the pens. It was too late; Ellie was already making her way to the stage, pushing people aside with the stumps that were all that remained of her arms. Her scarred face was crumpled up like she was trying not to cry. As she passed the fourteen year old's pen, a girl with a ruffled pixie cut vaulted the fence and grabbed her shoulder sternly. 

The escort sighed. Why couldn't District Nine do anything the proper way? She was tempted to shout for her to wait for volunteers, but what was the point? The girl would only come up on stage anyway.

"Go back, Ellie," said the new girl kindly, giving the crowd a quick, reassuring grin, "I'll take it from here!" Ellie burst into tears, her whole being quaking with relief.

"Thank you, thank you so much!" she sobbed, as the girl swaggered up to the stage, a sort of cheerful resignation on her face. The crowd applauded her politely and she bowed until they stopped, her arms flailing in dramatic gestures. If she was scared, she didn't show it.

"My name is Taylor Biagotti, and I will be your District Nine victor this Hunger Games!" she announced brightly, waving her arms madly in the air and nearly clubbing the escort in the face. This got her a huge round of cheers and suddenly everyone was listening again. Very few looked particularly hopeful; the Biagotti family were famous for being hasty and generally overestimating themselves. The Biagotti father had once chopped his own finger off in circumstances that were a bit foggy, and some distant Biagotti cousin had apparently almost died of starvation because they had forgotten to eat, thinking that they could finish reaping a whole field of tesserae corn first.

"Over to you, Twinkle," Taylor chirped, clapping the escort on the back. She gritted her teeth angrily. Her name wasn't Twinkle, it was Star. But there was some old nursery rhyme and it had stuck, annoyingly.

"Yes, the boys," she scowled, "Well, here we go...Austin Biagotti!"

The whole crowd winced. Taylor swayed on the spot, swagger gone.

"Let me see that!" she demanded, grabbing the slip of paper. Twinkle didn't try and stop her. Her eyes went wide, then tearful, then finally resigned, by which time Austin was already ascending the stairs, head in his hands. Twinkle blinked a few times, resisting the urge to rub her eyes in case it ruined her makeup. She'd had the unfortunate experience of reaping siblings before, but never twins. These two just had to be twins. They ran straight to each other, hugging tightly and whispering. Austin glanced at her and she thought she detected a small grin.

"Well, how unusual!" chirped Twinkle, trying to lighten the mood. For once. Usually District Nine didn't need anybody lightening the mood for them. "What are the odds on that? Do we have any volunteers?"

People murmured uncomfortably, but nobody came forward. Austin let go of Taylor, giving her what looked like a small wink. Twinkle approached him; Taylor looked like she would just cry, and that was boring. "So Austin, what do you make of that?" she asked.

"I reckon I'm too pretty to die!" he responded, and Taylor laughed, just a little hiccup.

"Yeah," she added, though she was still very pale, "And I think Mom and Dad will be pleased they don't have to tidy up after us anymore!"

"You're a stupid girl!" sobbed a woman's voice from in the crowd. Twinkle winced.

"Brave words, you two. What a pairing, eh folks?"

Some people clapped. One or two were still discussing the weather. The twins stood next to each other, arms around the other's shoulders, staring at the crowd. She could hear Austin hissing "It's okay, sis, I'll think of something!" as they retreated into the Justice Building.

When Twinkle turned to follow them, it became clear that somehow, one of the twins had managed to stick a picture of a frowning face on her back.