[94th] The Reaping - District 11

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gm bourgeois decadence [aya]
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[94th] The Reaping - District 11 May 26, 2023 23:11:06 GMT -5

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Post by gm bourgeois decadence [aya] on May 26, 2023 23:11:06 GMT -5

"It is time," the Escort said as they stood over the impatient people of the District, "To once again send two of our own children to the Capitol to compete in the Hunger Games. Let us begin the Reaping!"

They did not look to see the reaction of his district before reaching into the glass ball that held the names of the children. "First up," the Escort announced, pulling out a slip of paper. They unfolded it and read out to the crowd, "Elise Krane!" They then reached into the ball again, selecting another name. "Daniel Ulysses!"

OOC - RPing is allowed. If you wish to volunteer, let the tribute post first either accepting or stepping down from their place for volunteers, and then post. If the tribute doesn't reply by Tuesday, May 30th, a staff member will post saying that volunteering is open. Please do not post until you see this staff message. FIRST COME, FIRST SERVE.

Tributes, please do not make your acceptance or denial of your spot in character; instead, please leave an ooc note at the end of your post stating whether they accept or are stepping down for volunteers.

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[94th] The Reaping - District 11 May 27, 2023 9:02:37 GMT -5

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Post by ☢️ on May 27, 2023 9:02:37 GMT -5

ELISE KRANE

Vibrating strings fill the room with a mellow melody from the untuned ukulele between Louie Krane’s fingers. Elise sits on the edge of her bed, balanced enough just to see herself in the obscured mirror as she detangles the curling ribbons from the night before. The hollow sound of her brother’s instrument perfectly drowns out the tension that spurts in small eruptions in the hallway. She could use the reaping as an excuse for her parent’s morning ritual brawl but there is always one marked in the calendar, daily. They seem to make amends before breakfast is served, then they don’t need to see each other again until dinner time and then it is part two.

The silence in the room is abrupt, Louie stops and throws his ukulele onto his pillow.

”How about a game of checkers before breakfast?”

”Not right now, I am trying to get ready.” She says, finally unthreading the last of the ribbons in her hair. The curls do not look quite right though, not in the chipped small, squared mirror that is ten feet away. ”Ughh! Girls take so long, I am all ready to go!” Elise’s little brother complains, kicking his laced up boots against the edge of his own bed. ”You can go downstairs if you are ready, I will need to get changed.”

”Go change in the bathroom, I am not going down there alone!”

The four walls of their shared bedroom have become a sacred solitude to the mess that is outside it. It would be good for everyone if they just split but it is not just two people splitting. Who would the siblings live with? Elise with her mother and Louie with his father. It is not just two joined loving parents they would be losing. Elise is good at fixing broken things but tinkering with her parent’s relationship is beyond her limits. ”I will and I promise we can play checkers when we are back home.”

There is a trunk at the end of Elise’s bed, it is the make do with this wardrobe that her father brought home once when she asked for one. Living as a materialistic girl in District Eleven seems impossible but somehow Elise has managed. Second-hand frocks from the market, hand-me-downs from older cousins, even rags she has picked from the garbage and amended by hand. It is so easy for her to disguise their true origin from the prying eyes of the popular kids at school that she puts so much effort in to impress. It is not enough to impress them once; everyday she has been piling brick after brick to influence them. So much effort and for what? Just to be another name they will likely forget when they graduate.

Elise pulls out a white blouse and light blue skirt that is neatly folded at the top of the trunk, papers slip out from under it onto the floor. It is the travel permit that she has yet to ink her name onto, Louie’s eagle eyes are quick to spot it. ”Do you still really want to go to District Eight?” He asks, a little limp In his words as he looks down at his knees that dangle over the bed.

”There or maybe Three, I am not sure yet.” Elise is not content working the short shifts in the florist when she is not at school. There is no challenge to it, her brain is melting in her skull with every passing day. She could design the next best revolutionary dress in District Eight or learn more about the fascinating mechanics of technology in Three, even the idea of going to Six has passed by in her mind. ”It won’t be for long. You will be alright without me for a few weeks, right?”

”I will have to be.” Louie crosses his arms and Elise gathers the rest of her reaping outfit before walking out of the room to change. Her brother will manage without her for a short time, she thinks so anyway. He has friends he can retreat too, even the cousins that like to rock up at the door unexpectedly. Maybe her not being there will force the realisation to finally hit their parents. It will not be for long, she needn’t worry.

Time must have slipped from Elise has she tries to perfect her hair in the bigger bathroom mirror. Louie belts on the door for her to get downstairs, she must be the one to walk down them first.

Her parents have perfected their happy family look as they sit around the set table, smiles and good mornings greeting their children. The chitter chatter around the table consists of Louie’s morning ukelele playing, the district that Elise intends to travel too and the promised checkers game that Louie reminds Elise about several times. Louie is so good at keeping the chatter, enough for their parents to forget about the morning’s argument topic. It is enough for Elise to know that he will be just alright without her, she will be nineteen in two years. It is time she starts to prepare to step out of that door and never look back.

There is not much talking once they all step out of the door. Louie grips onto Elise’s hand once they leave their parents at the adult section of the town square. This isn’t her brother’s first reaping; he still has a few years left and Elise has two. It is why she wants a few weeks away from Eleven before her last. A quick adventure somewhere, just in case.

Elise leaves her brother with the younger kids and seeks out her ’school friends’ amongst the crowds of unfamiliar faces and then she finds them, sniggering away at each other with their tied back hair. ”We said we would wear pigtails to the reaping this time Elise! Did you not get the memo?” Says the blonde, Izzie with scraped back tight hair, tied back into two tails and her receding hairline for all to see. ”You said we should curl our hair the other day?” The group laughs at her and bodies nudge and shove Elise as other kids try and find their place. ”Sorry, we changed our mind. Did we forget to tell you?” Elise just sighs and tries to find her place, standing next to the blonde but a hand stops her from moving any closer. ”You can’t stand with us now, go stand with them.” Meredith, another of the group points back at the obvious farmers that have not been fortunate enough to have their monthly baths. Stained denim dungarees and straw hats atop of their head.

It is not too bad being stood here; she can see her brother perfectly from this view. Now she is going to have to hurry back home after the reaping and tie back her hair, there is a party near a creek planned that she cannot miss, hopefully an opportunity for her to make amends.

Then the ukulele plays in her head, the same mellow tune from this morning. The ecstatic face of her brother that has finally learnt to play a full melody from ear.

”Elise Krane!”

The string snaps and the ukulele shatters. A sombre melody switches to the screams of a frantic brother. Elise is secured to her spot, not a single joint or muscle wants to motion forward with the call of her name, but her vision is working perfectly. All she can see is her flapping fourteen-year-old brother and there is a peacekeeper marching up to him with a baton in hand.

”No!” She calls out to her brother, now finally stepping out and showing the world who Elise Krane is. It is a name that has not been heard at the reaping for a long time, a name she wanted writing out of this tradition’s existence.

”It won’t be for long. You will be alright without me for a few weeks, right?” Elise tells her brother as the peacekeepers escort her past him. She reaches out with her hand, and their palms touch for just a second.

”I will have to be.”

ELEGANT

[Elise Krane accepts her position as D11a]

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[94th] The Reaping - District 11 May 27, 2023 17:09:29 GMT -5

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Post by MATTIO on May 27, 2023 17:09:29 GMT -5

U L Y S S E S.

KEEP OUT.

BEWARE OF DOGS.

NO TRESPASSING.

If you were the guardian of a seventeen-year-old kid and they put those metal signs in black and red text over their bedroom door, should you think twice about entering? Well yes, yes you should! My grandparents do not know the definition of boundaries, though. Both of them are at my neck the moment I get back home. Arms crossed, both of them certainly have something to chew me out for. And I have a feeling it's not going to be about the roll I took before leaving my friend's house.

"Can you explain what we found lying in your bed, Daniel?"

A shrug follows my drawn-out sigh. "I don't know what to tell you. I thought the signs were pretty self-explanatory." Claws scratch on the dark wood down the hallway.

"A mutt, are you kidding me? Did you not think about what might've happened if she got bit?"

"Then don't go into my fucking room." There's a brief pause in which both of them scold me for my language and tone. For years, they've demanded that I act as a role model for my little brothers and sisters. I'm anything but that by their standards. Oh-so horrible is their oldest grandkid! I slip past both of them, their reprimands sounding like audio from the archaic films and footage they grew up with. "This is why we ask you to keep your door open … None of your little siblings are this way, how did you get like this … Where did you get those signs, anyway? Steal them?"

Blah. Blah. Blah.

I open the door enough to slide myself in and keep the dog from getting out. It's just a stray, that was lazing about drinking out of the spring's muddied puddles of the neighborhood's fenceless backyards. Why both of them decided to throw a fit is unknown to me. And why must they call it a mutt? He's a dog, and a good one too. Some people in Eleven can barely afford a haircut. Who's paying the grooming fee for a stray dog? Head picked up upon entry, the pitbull is lying by my bed. The tail wags from excitement as I rub the back of his ear. He's so quiet for a dog, but I suppose he has to be. People who just want peace and quiet can grow fed up with rowdiness. My grandparents, for example. They can't tolerate the way I am. If I was a mutt in their backyard, they might just shoot me down.

I pour what's left in my water bottle into the dish I set out by the window. The dog rises up, overgrown nails sliding against the hardwood floor. It's comical, and the pitbull knows it. "Good boy," I say, my palm patting its malnourished side. If my grandparents are this intent upon this no dogs allowed thing, I guess I will let him out. As much as it satisfies me to get under their skin, I know what kind of attachment my siblings can get to an animal. The thought of them crying about how they want to keep it, and how that'll lead them to get scolded for what I did… nah, I can't handle that. I'm a pain in the ass so they don't have to be. So they can be kids with a semi-normal childhood. I got that. I remember Mom and Dad– I know the good they taught me. The love and patience they gave. My grandparents love them all because I set the bar so damn low– by my own design.

"Aww shit, buddy!" He's been an angel for the day that he's spent in my room… except for one thing. The chewed-up dress shoe on my bed. The black leather is torn in some spots. A hand-me-down and memory of my dad, it hurts to see it the way it is. His lucky shoes. I pick it up to inspect the damage. Thankfully, slobber can be wiped away and cleaned off. They aren't completely destroyed, but they'll need some fixing. Especially because, well, today's the Reaping. Gotta wear lucky shoes on days like this.

Okay, let's see. I'll need a dish rag, some tape, a black marker… and a prayer. I'm pretty crafty and good at thinking on the spot. What better way to hide a hole than throwing a bunch of duct tape over it, right?

Right!

A half-hour later, I leave my room. One by one, I greet my little siblings. Rose, Andrew, Peter, and Shan. Today is Shan's first Reaping, but I made her promise last week not to be nervous. The Peacekeepers like to pick on the nervous kids. The rest of 'em, they've still got some years before they enter.

My shoe squeaks with every step. Grandma is the first to inspect me and catch the grey duct tape wrapped around my shoe and scribbled together to match the rest of the shoe with a permanent black marker.

"Let me guess, that mutt ate your shoe."

I catch a spot of shining grey that I'd missed on the first attempt. "Nope." I swing my foot up to the table and pull the marker from my pocket, painting over the tape. "It was actually me! Leather is edible, you know." My free hand stuffs a piece of toast in my mouth. "But it's stale and rotten, kind of like-" who I say is unidentifiable through my chewing. I hope that gets under my grandmother's skin, wondering if I'm talking about her. I watch my grandfather's eyes roll.

Typical awkward tension passes by with backhanded back-and-forth between my grandparents and me until its time to head out for the Reaping. Grandma and Grandpa announce that they'll take the kids over, leaving me to go 'whenever I'm ready.' What, are you not proud of your eldest grandkid? C'mon. Grandpa rests his hand on my shoulder and whispers in my ear, "I want that mutt out of the house before we come back, do you hear me?"

How threatening. I nod and go back to my room. "Hey, baby boy, you wanna go out? For a walk, maybe?" The dog is rather obedient, nails tip-tapping against the wooden floor as we head out together. He doesn't need a leash to stay by my side. We travel together toward the center square for the Reaping. Every once in a while, the duct tape sticks to my sock, a mix between velcro and wax ripping apart with each step.

Kids are organized by age: youngest in the front, oldest in the back. At seventeen, I can basically stand as far back as I want. And I'm not going to leave my dog unattended for too long. My grandparents may want me to get rid of him, but that just means I need to do a better job of hiding him. He's a companion.

"Okay, buddy. Wait here for me. Don't move, okay?" The pitbull sits tall against the roped-off Reaping pool. I check in at the front and hug the ropes to make my way back to the dog.

He's still there, patient and eyes squinting against the sunlight. I wave him forward with my hand and he crawls beneath the barrier and follows me into the crowd. A few Peacekeepers look over at the commotion I'm causing, but all they see are turned-down heads. Maybe they'll find it satisfactory that we kids aren't paying attention to the festivities of their killing machine.

I'm half-squatting, scratching at both of the dog's ears while the Reaping begins.

"First up…"

Elise Krane. A last name I haven't heard in a hell of a time. They used to get Reaped like the baby boom. There's a scene that hits all too hard between Elise and someone else running toward the center aisle. All too familiar with the fears I have between myself and Shan. How I'd react if my little sister gets reaped, or how she'd react for me. Another reason why I warned her to just stay calm... out of all the times, even I know the Reaping is not the best to make a scene.

Second one… here we go.

"Daniel Ulysses."

Well. Shit.

Even though the dog and I have only known each other for, what, two days? There's a look between the pet and the owner. The this is when we never see each other again kind. I scratch under his mouth and his face flops up toward me. Usually, this happens when an animal gets put to sleep. Roles reversed now, even the dark brown of the pitbull's eyes grow larger, knowingly.

Well. Shit.

I shuffle towards the center aisle where a pair of Peacekeepers wait. The dog follows at the exact same pace, light ears bouncing beside my kneecap. With me, every step of the way.

I don't see my sister in the crowd. I think that's a good sign, that she's not making a scene in public. We can say our goodbyes soon enough.

"Why's there a dog with you?" One of the Peacekeepers whispers to me as soon as I break free of the crowd.

I shrug.

"It can't follow you."

"Okay."

I bend down to my shoes.

"Something to remember me by, buddy, hmm?" I undo the laces and take one shoe off, the one that the dog hadn't chewed through. I hold it up against its mouth. Almost majestically, it grabs the shoe by its side. I turn my head towards the exit and the pitbull gallops away.

Gallop. I think that's a nice name. I smile as it leaps over the rope barrier and escapes back into the district.

With one shoe left, I walk unevenly to the stage.

I stand firm with a resigned smile.

Some role model I'll be for my brothers and sisters now.

[ulysses accepts 11b]

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