[D1] The Reaping

Scout Alex Fray was better then everyone in this piss poor excuse for a career district.

Her home was becoming a joke. It had been seven years since a victor had been crowned in District One, seven years and District Eleven had sprouted three pieces of shit. Each one that stepped out of the arena was more revolting then the next, she was sure that last guy wasn't even eighteen, he looked thicker then an ox. Perhaps his skull was of a similar design. He had a stupid face, that Cryito boy. He didn't look much more appealing, he was lanky and thin and missing a few essential pieces, perhaps even his dick had fallen off in that arena. And then there was that other one. Not to mention that long list of forgettable faces of those District victors, all the way back down to Opal Shore, or Earnest or whoever the fuck she honestly was these days. The girl was useless, Septys Lexig had been in the perfect position to carry the crown home, bring back some small sense of honour to the District and he'd failed, probably due to Topaz and the rest of the rocks inability to do more then fuck up. It was disgusting, the District mentors were as pathetic as her brothers ability to torture someone for longer then a few minutes.

A crowd had begun to trickle into the District Square, Scout stood off to the side, dark eyebrows knitted into an intimidating scowl. It was a permanent feature upon her well cared for face, it was any wonder she managed to pick up anyone to satisfy her sexual drive. It was hardly likely someone guy (or girl) would approach her, she didn't have a particularly welcoming or warm or friendly or, well, nice face. It was all harsh lines, it was unforgiving, with dark brown eyes that were cold and calculating, and lingered like an animal of prey. They shifted through the crowd always searching, it was the gaze of a predator always, always searching for prey. A wolf in a sheep herd.

The rest of her family was spread out amongst the mess of young, smelly children, too many too eager to step forwards. She hoped, like she had for the past few years that the next name to be called would be some strong career with a craving for blood. Then, at least, she could put her hopes into the District's future once more. It was awful, carrying such a black reputation around on her shoulders, how was she supposed to enjoy killing street scum and pissy crybabies if all they saw were weak scrawny children, no longer those strong powerful careers that dominated over everyone. It was embarrassing, rocking up to Panem events like the olympics, only to be mocked by some fucking District Nine toothpick.

The tension in the air rose, as the crowd was hushed by some eccentric Capitolite. Scout shifted her gaze through the crowd, hoping, for the second time that day, that a proud career would be called -if not, rather some over-eager bonehead would step up to take the weaklings place. It was District One's time to shine this year.

She crossed her arms stiffly over her chest as the anthem played, fingers drumming against her pale forearms as she impatiently waited for the main event to happen. As usual her clothes were dark, tight pants to high-light each and every one of her curves, but perfect for running and moving, ready for some fun after the reaping was over. A loose shit, that easily covered the knife that was tucked into her jeans. She would drag Kaiser off after the reaping was over, find some relieved person who was excited about the prospect of living for another year and kill them. She lived for those moments, when that relief, that made their minds spin and legs weak took hold, and they smiled at everyone on the streets, shaking hands clutching their chests. They were so gullible, so easy. It was like taking candy from a baby. Cornering them was simple, watching as that glint of unexpected joy at surviving flicker and die was euphoric. watching it switch from happiness to terror made her toes curl with pleasure. It was her ecstasy.

"Remi Smoak!"

The name cut through the tension like skin separating from flesh. It shook Scout from her day-dream, and the small smile that had lingered on her lips disappeared, a comfortable scowl slipping back onto her face. Her muscles tightened as she clenched her fists, leaning forwards to catch a glimpse of the tribute. The pressure in her chest only tightened as a small framed, shaking girl stepped forwards. There was something off about the girl, the way she walked back hunched forwards, as though the weight of the crowd was breaking her. As she turned to face the crowd Scout froze, displeasure curling her lips. Those eyes, now frantic with confusion, held a lifeless glow to them. She knew that look so well, it was those eyes she despised the most, it was one of the few types of people she avoided and refused to kill. The ones that had this darkness embedded into their hearts that whispered in their ear 'die'. There was no fun torturing someone who wanted to die, that didn't scream and plead and beg for their lives.

This girl wasn't going to be a victor, this girl was going to be another waste of time of effort of everything. Ripred knew she'd probably try and off herself before the games even started. She was so tired of her district being represented by pathetic, no good cowards, that not even she would take the pleasure in skinning alive. This girl was another disaster, another failure, another ticket of embarrassment for her district. Fuck her.

Growling Scout shoved the girl in front of her, fingers digging into skin as she pushed herself through the crowd, eyes glowing with a murderous light. She'd be damned if some no good for nothing street rat failed her home. Fuck it, she'd do it herself. At least, in the arena, she could kill them all without having to worry about the Peacekeepers. She snorted, as she stepped into the aisle, striding towards the stage, scowl glued to her face, at least, with a crown on her head she could kill whoever she wanted right? The Peacekeeper's wouldn't punish a victor.

She took the steps two at a time, unable to bear one more moment of her crowd staring at that pathetic excuse for a person. Strolling over to the girl, Scout growled, "piss off. You're not needed."

Reaping Day was like a high. Euphoria coursed through his black heart and spread to his extremities like roots from a tree. The guessing game of ”which family will get in this time?” sprouted bets from across every neighborhood, and while the popular vote this year was Moreno (since they were overdue for another fake career), Kaiser figured it was time to start betting on his own surname again. A Fray had never been Reaped, nor had any of them decided to volunteer, but the recent streak of disappointing victors had left everybody on edge. District One was tired of witnessing the fall of perfectly worthy tributes, especially by the hands of twigs from Eleven. Harbinger was the exception – that piece of work was sculpted like a massive statue. He would definitely be willing to have a spar with that one.

He had money down on one of his siblings having their name pulled from that scared jar - there was the other option of volunteering. The rule was simple: whoever made it into the Games was the final winner, and the money would be dealt to those betters. He was desperate for a win this time. The Frays were a prestigious family, yet mockery was whispered into ears about how they had been left in the dust by everybody else. They didn’t have a single tribute to represent their glory and it was ridiculous. By now they should’ve had at least two! And at least one victor. Any one of them could’ve wiped the floors with Kirito and Katelyn, and saved every district from suffering their terrible speeches.

At least Katelyn was hot.

The mansion was abuzz with silent energy. Kaiser stuffed himself full of breakfast and changed into the type of high class outfit he wore every year for the Reaping, because it turned into a fucking fashion show and he was not about to ruin his chances with the ladies and lads by looking raggedy. He shoved himself through the front door with a grin painted across his jaws. The Square was always an ocean of colors and for this reason he never imagined himself in the Games. There were so many candidates that it seemed unlikely to happen, and he couldn’t be bothered to volunteer. He hadn’t felt up to it yet. Maybe next year, if one of those selfish families didn’t beat him to the punch.

He yawned through the anthem and snorted at the escort’s outfit. They looked like little kid’s dolls standing up there with the pristine victors. Opal was their last and she was okay in terms of skillset and badassery, but she was definitely hot.

The escort announced a name he didn’t recognize. Shit. He frowned, realizing that it wasn’t one of the career families. Probably some isolated no-name. The entire District would be disappointed. He stood tall enough to see her weave through the crowd, shoulders hunched as if she was scared and self-conscious.

Yikes, one of those.

He was about to call it a day and rub his hands together in anticipation for a comeback with the male name, but then a commotion broke through the pool of bodies. He spotted her – his twin sister – approaching the other girl with that posture he recognized, threatening but confident. His jaw immediately dropped.

Scout was volunteering.

”Fuck yeah!” he shouted, thrusting his fist into the air. Finally there would be some proper representation. ”You go Scout!”

The male tribute ended up being another volunteer, one of the Lexigs. Not surprising. He didn’t really care. It was most important that it was his twin sister up on that stage. Not a Shore, not a Moreno, but a motherfucking Fray. It was finally their turn to steal the limelight, and prove to everybody that they were the fucking best. Scout was perfect for the job; she was savage, experienced, and merciless. She enjoyed the suffering of others while certain tributes hesitated.

She would lay waste to an entire arena.

He smiled proudly.