{Pricked} by the Crown (VT!Mattio/Frankel/Kou)

Witnessing every recurring event of the chaos that struck his District, Ronnie was unfazed, the district deserves a cleansing. As long as his brother wasn’t one of the many hundreds dragged to his early grave, he didn’t care and during the terror, Reggie was at his side so his presence assured him. It was the shadow that caused this. The shadow that has been tracking his brother’s every move, ready to pounce and take his life. For so long Ronnie has fended the shadow away from his brother and so in fury, it sent a natural disaster to his homeland…again failing to meet the purpose.

Instead hundreds of lives taken, families torn apart and buildings destroyed. His own house flooded downstairs, fortunately a mere small wound to compared to the homes closer to the ocean. A couple of weeks drying out can solve it while others have months to rebuild their livelihoods from scratch. Most of his family were safe, except the branch that had already faced terror before the wave came. Henrietta’s family, Henrietta the maniac with the hollow head. Ronnie believes her lack of planning helped with her demise. She played around too much in the arena and didn’t organise a single thing. Becoming allies with those from the lower Districts, two little children to add to the stupidity. The girl had wished her death as soon as she came out of that bloodbath far too prematurely. Having watched over the footage with Reggie, the pair of them strategized together so they know they’re ready if their name is ever plucked from that glass bowl.

Following Henrietta’s predictable death, the majority of her family was wiped out by the wave. The rich side of the family. Ronnie’s illegal empire had been funded by their generous gifts and now the money wouldn’t be coming from them, only the young one survived and of course he would have inherited everything, even if the house was destroyed, there must be some wealth hidden away somewhere. Coming up with a genius idea, Ronnie suggested to his parents that they become Jaime’s guardian so hopefully they would be able to get their hands on the hidden cash. Even if the kid is just a year younger than him, Ronnie will be able to manipulate the broken cousin.

Flooding the District, many from different areas have come with their hands to help rebuild and as soon as Ronnie heard, a business idea struck. So many new potential customers to sell his substances too. Instead of helping remove rubble or any other back breaking tasks that Ronnie has been asked to do, he has instead been wandering around the relief centre, slyly advertising his business. So far, he has found out that the District Six citizens are keen buyers while the District Threes aren’t exactly a target audience.

Today he has been notified that the shit faced District Three victor, the one who won Henrietta’s games has blessed his face at the relief centre. He knows for a fact if his cousin Jaime sees him, he’ll likely tear him down and that is a fight Ronnie is eager to see. Sneaking a bundle of sandwiches from the volunteer’s tent, Ronnie goes on a scavenger hunt for his cousin and the victor.

Lighting up a cigarette, he sucks on it while he walks alongside the never ending tents of the injured, so many mangled faces. Walking into the centre, his prize reaches his eyes as both Jaime and the victor are identified. Heading towards them, he is able to catch the small talk, hoping it unfolds into a great battle.

”I'm Jaime Cheyne, you know brother to Hettie Cheyne, the girl that you helped kill one way or another.” Even though Henrietta’s performance was an utter embarrassment, Ronnie knows that the shit faced District Three would have never had a chance if he had faced her alone.

”I’m truly sorry for your loss,” Sighing, Ronnie knows too well that he probably doesn’t mean it. How automated, who wrote that down for him?

Moving towards Jaime, Ronnie shoves one of the sandwiches in his hand. ”Eat kid.” Turning around to the victor, he’d remove his cigarette, blowing the smoke into the victor’s face. A smirk lines his face as he offers one of the sandwiches to him. ”We know you don’t mean it, so just don’t bother.”

As soon as the cigarette's smoke dispersed from the victor's face, his appearance lights up Ronnie's eyes. "Well you look at lot hotter than you do on the television screens."

It only took a second. A second was all that was needed to make his anger flourish within his smaller body. Atticus Manor was no king compared to the crown they gave him for being a loser. Hettie should have been queen and Jaime her prince, but she was dead. Dead and buried under the ground, soaking up the water that probably tore the land apart. The world was angry at her death. The tsunami was the signal that up in whatever afterlife she had moved onto to, that she was mad or worse pissed off. Jaime remembered the threat he heard his sister say on the the cameras to Atticus. It's all Jaime wanted to do when he heard the words fall from the victor's lips like it meant something, when truly it didn't. ”I’m truly sorry for your loss,”

If the king had been so sorry for his loss. Something would have been done in Hettie's honor, but nothing was. Only a tsunami had come to tear the rest of his shackles apart and set the prince free to learn about the world on his own. Atticus Manor was no king. Jaime Cheyne was learning that no one was royalty, they all were peasants under everyone's eyes. Ants that the god of the world could crush under his thumb at any point in time. Hell already froze over and yet here Jaime was, standing before the man who knew his sister and helped kill her in a way. The world was in chaos and his crown stung upon his head. Anger filled his blood, sorrows sank into his skin, and the pain throbbed against his skull, seeping into his brain, trying to control his every being.

Ronnie appeared faster than he could react. The little prince being nothing more than ignored by his cousin and the victor. The prince's fist clenching in anger, a fight threatening to break loose from his hold, but his mother's scolding still fills his mind. A prince wasn't supposed to lash out. A prince was to stay calm and collected. A prince wasn't supposed to be alone. A prince wasn't supposed to wish he was dead. Though, Jaime still did. He wanted to be reunited with his family, just as much as he wanted to live. Ronnie's voice only aggravated Jaime Cheyne more than he could believe. ”Eat kid.” He hadn't eaten in the past two days. The sandwich looked like a blessing, but he was always wary of his cousin Ronnie, something about the man always put him off in the wrong way.

”We know you don’t mean it, so just don’t bother.” The little prince wanted to praise Ronnie, but his cousin wasn't one for praise. Jaime wasn't the kind of kid to give it either. A prince doesn't praise anyone, they praise him. A kingdom of glass shattered before him and yet he still felt he deserved the respect needed. The next words he hears fall from his cousin's lips makes him scrunch up his nose in disgust. "Well you look at lot hotter than you do on the television screens." Hot wasn't the word he would use to describe Atticus Manor. Disgusting or vile were the closer of the synonyms to Atticus Manor. Jaime slowly bites the sandwich that he held before speaking. "You're disgusting, Ronnie." Never had he spoken truer words. His princely demeanor was breaking. The thinking before saying was vanishing before him like it was the last piece of chocolate.

That's when she decided to make an appearance in front of the prince. His icy blue eyes stare at her, expecting her to praise him like the king he was going to be. Another cousin that he knew the name of only by his mother and father's demands. Ivy Cheyne. A cousin who he had no clue about, until she came into the room and spoke to the victor of the 72nd. "I'm Ivy Cheyne, and I do not blame you at all." His insides grind and creak against one another. The pain of hearing a family member not blame Atticus for Hettie's death made him sick to his stomach. A shame is what she was to him. A disgraced cousin that he would never forgive, even if it meant her doom. Jaime Cheyne wasn't the type to give in and forgive and forget, no he was a prince who held his ground longer than any of them could. The only Cheyne remaining who can hold a war upon the field of broken bodies and dead memories. A prince who had a piece of his mind to give to Atticus Manor, but first the boy was going to deal with the disgrace known as Ivy.

"Such a bold statement for a waste of breath. Atticus Manor is to blame. He's the reason they're all dead. He's the reason that I'm alone. Atticus Manor is nothing but a coward!"

The tension grew within his statement. Oxygen to the flame that was anger and sadness in his chest. The world was in chaos and all that the prince could do was let his life spiral downwards into a pit of anger and sadness. Jaime Cheyne was breaking inside and out, the crown of thorns upon his head the weight that he carries through his life. The prince wasn't done though. The fire upon his chest ready to burst out and engulf Atticus Manor until he perishes a slow and meaningless death. The prince was still the richest and most adored Cheyne left in the district, even if he was acting like a spoiled brat.

"Atticus, I despise you. You're nothing to me. When you die, people won't care about you. They'll be relieved that the scum of the earth has fallen and that they can finally move on with their own petty lives. You're nothing more than the dirt upon the ground."

A smile upon his face. Words spoken outloud in a fury of flames. The little prince's arm wrapped up in a cast. His form was tattered and broken, yet he still had the strength to tell Atticus Manor how much of a coward he truly was. The crown of thorns upon his head being carried like it was nothing, even though the weight was greater than anything else. Atticus was the reason he was alone. The tsunami was caused by Hettie's death, nothing could change that. It was how the gods wanted it. It's how Hettie would have wanted it. Suffer and then thrive. Jaime would follow in her footsteps, suffer and then thrive.

Made by Frankel