Post by Tamari on Mar 14, 2012 7:31:16 GMT 10
Title: Always
Rating : PG-13
Word Count: 780
Crossover: Tortall/Hunger Games (/Twilight /Harry Potter)
Summary: She has played many different games, and she has never lost. Warning for implied violence and implied death (basically Hunger Games warnings).
She walks confidently onto the stage, sidestepping her sobbing sister and pale brothers, when her name is drawn. Her hair is as dark as her hidden knives are sharp and no one will touch her- no one will dare.
“Hello, Effie,” she says in lilting Common.
Effie smiles hesitantly (Scared, Trinket? You should be). “Welcome to the Hunger Games, dear. May the odds be ever in your favor.”
“They always are.”
Her stylists dress her in an unflattering black velvet gown (Where is your blueblueblue now, darling?) but she does not argue.
She has no mentor, unlike the Panem tributes. This is a disadvantage, but it is shared by the Hogwarts and Forks tributes as well (and besides, she is no ordinary tribute). She tosses her head and thinks scornfully that mentors are for the weak.
“Tortall!”
She is darkly seductive in her interview- all crossed legs and long lashes and full red lips. She answers questions deliberately and confidently. When Caesar Flickerman asks her why she will win the Hunger Games, she gives the camera a sapphire stare.
“I always win,” she purrs. “It’s in the blood.” She digs her long nails into her palm and flicks a drop of blood at the lens.
After a reasonably high score in training (she is as adept with a bow as her mother was, and her uncles and aunts have taught her basic sword work and knife play, among other things), she is dressed for the arena in a basic shirt and breeches, for the arena is a deceptively simple forest.
“Ladies and gentlemen, let the First International Hunger Games begin!” She is gone as soon as the countdown ends, at the Cornucopia first and defending herself well with a set of knives, a sword, and a pack full of food and supplies. She fells two Forks tributes (strangely sparkling in the sun) and a Panem tribute, ducks a flying light from a blond Hogwarts boy channeling his Gift through a stick, and disappears into the trees.
She reminds herself to conserve her own Gift as much as possible, and concentrates on getting as far away from the others as possible. When the cannons start, there are eighteen blasts.
The field is already halved, and she will win.
She always wins.
She manages to avoid the other tributes for a few days, although she has a near miss with an unchecked swamp and practically drowns before stabbing her knife through a clump of dirt and pulling herself out. Ten more tributes die: nine from Panem, one from Forks. It is lucky that she is the only Tortall tribute and doesn’t have to kill her own friends and family (but she is always, has always been, the fortunate one).
Her food will not last forever and she has to find another source.
One skill she possesses that she did not show the Gamemakers- stealing. The Tortallan girl creeps into a camp shared by four of the remaining seven tributes (plus her, eight). It is unoccupied (the residents are likely off hunting for more food or other people) and she takes all of the food and breaks all of the left behind weapons.
She is not merciful. Mercy has no place in the Hunger Games.
She will win.
Some days later, she faces off with the last opponent. He is a heavyset Hogwarts tribute and brandishes his Gift stick at her as she nimbly dodges his flying lights.
“You’re not the only one with magic,” she says with a smirk and sends a wave of fire at him.
The Hogwarts boy obviously hasn’t counted on another mage, and seems to be able to use his Gift only through the stick. The battle is won the instant her fire touches it- the twig burns up immediately, followed by the screaming boy.
“The winner of the First International Hunger Games- the Tortallan tribute!”
“Welcome home!” the citizens cry as she steps off the strange transport onto her home soil. Their words are warm but they are obviously afraid and she gives them her most friendly smile.
“I had to make it back,” she says. “How would Tortall fare without me?”
And they grin and agree, but the fear never leaves their eyes.
She moves confidently through the ball, easily parting the couples and whispering groups. Her hair is as dark as her heart, they say, and no one will touch her- no one will dare.
“It’s good to be back, isn’t it?”
Her mother smiles hesitantly (Scared? You should be). “We knew you’d make it.”
“I always do,” Vania says, blowing a kiss to the gathering from her blood red lips.
Rating : PG-13
Word Count: 780
Crossover: Tortall/Hunger Games (/Twilight /Harry Potter)
Summary: She has played many different games, and she has never lost. Warning for implied violence and implied death (basically Hunger Games warnings).
She walks confidently onto the stage, sidestepping her sobbing sister and pale brothers, when her name is drawn. Her hair is as dark as her hidden knives are sharp and no one will touch her- no one will dare.
“Hello, Effie,” she says in lilting Common.
Effie smiles hesitantly (Scared, Trinket? You should be). “Welcome to the Hunger Games, dear. May the odds be ever in your favor.”
“They always are.”
-:-
Her stylists dress her in an unflattering black velvet gown (Where is your blueblueblue now, darling?) but she does not argue.
She has no mentor, unlike the Panem tributes. This is a disadvantage, but it is shared by the Hogwarts and Forks tributes as well (and besides, she is no ordinary tribute). She tosses her head and thinks scornfully that mentors are for the weak.
“Tortall!”
She is darkly seductive in her interview- all crossed legs and long lashes and full red lips. She answers questions deliberately and confidently. When Caesar Flickerman asks her why she will win the Hunger Games, she gives the camera a sapphire stare.
“I always win,” she purrs. “It’s in the blood.” She digs her long nails into her palm and flicks a drop of blood at the lens.
-:-
After a reasonably high score in training (she is as adept with a bow as her mother was, and her uncles and aunts have taught her basic sword work and knife play, among other things), she is dressed for the arena in a basic shirt and breeches, for the arena is a deceptively simple forest.
“Ladies and gentlemen, let the First International Hunger Games begin!” She is gone as soon as the countdown ends, at the Cornucopia first and defending herself well with a set of knives, a sword, and a pack full of food and supplies. She fells two Forks tributes (strangely sparkling in the sun) and a Panem tribute, ducks a flying light from a blond Hogwarts boy channeling his Gift through a stick, and disappears into the trees.
She reminds herself to conserve her own Gift as much as possible, and concentrates on getting as far away from the others as possible. When the cannons start, there are eighteen blasts.
The field is already halved, and she will win.
She always wins.
-:-
She manages to avoid the other tributes for a few days, although she has a near miss with an unchecked swamp and practically drowns before stabbing her knife through a clump of dirt and pulling herself out. Ten more tributes die: nine from Panem, one from Forks. It is lucky that she is the only Tortall tribute and doesn’t have to kill her own friends and family (but she is always, has always been, the fortunate one).
Her food will not last forever and she has to find another source.
One skill she possesses that she did not show the Gamemakers- stealing. The Tortallan girl creeps into a camp shared by four of the remaining seven tributes (plus her, eight). It is unoccupied (the residents are likely off hunting for more food or other people) and she takes all of the food and breaks all of the left behind weapons.
She is not merciful. Mercy has no place in the Hunger Games.
She will win.
-:-
Some days later, she faces off with the last opponent. He is a heavyset Hogwarts tribute and brandishes his Gift stick at her as she nimbly dodges his flying lights.
“You’re not the only one with magic,” she says with a smirk and sends a wave of fire at him.
The Hogwarts boy obviously hasn’t counted on another mage, and seems to be able to use his Gift only through the stick. The battle is won the instant her fire touches it- the twig burns up immediately, followed by the screaming boy.
“The winner of the First International Hunger Games- the Tortallan tribute!”
-:-
“Welcome home!” the citizens cry as she steps off the strange transport onto her home soil. Their words are warm but they are obviously afraid and she gives them her most friendly smile.
“I had to make it back,” she says. “How would Tortall fare without me?”
And they grin and agree, but the fear never leaves their eyes.
-:-
She moves confidently through the ball, easily parting the couples and whispering groups. Her hair is as dark as her heart, they say, and no one will touch her- no one will dare.
“It’s good to be back, isn’t it?”
Her mother smiles hesitantly (Scared? You should be). “We knew you’d make it.”
“I always do,” Vania says, blowing a kiss to the gathering from her blood red lips.