Re: Rayne, Rayne, Go Away
“Rayne, Rayne, go away~” A singsong voice cooed from the treetops, followed by two short laughs as I turned quickly, looking for the exact source of the sound. “Come again another day.”
“Kirlia!” The short green and white Pokemon called, pointing with one of his arms towards the tallest of the surrounding trees. “Kir! Kir!”
I turned to face my attacker, meeting the eyes of a slender girl with long brown hair, the color of tree bark, hair and a slender cream and blue Pokemon with flames on its back, a Quilava. I recognize the girl, her name is Myddie. Or maybe Maddie. Either way, she had definitely stood out before the Games. Her score is one of the highest, a total of 10/12 points. No one knows her specialty, not even the other tribute in District Two. But what is she doing here? Shouldn’t she be with the other Careers, the tributes of Districts One, Two, and Four? She must be a loner, I thought bitterly. Like me.
Tributes, those forced to partake in the horrendous games of the people that are supposed to protect us. It was over a hundred years ago when they decided that The Hunger Games was something to invest in. After the revolt of District Thirteen, the one that now lies in ashes and ruins. This is our punishment. A Game that killed twenty-three kids a year, leaving one as the sole survivor. This is my time in the arena, and I wanted to make a difference.
Careers are the ones you want to look out for. From the richest of the twelve districts came the Careers. Trained just for this occasion, seasoned with knowledge that the rest of us could never have access to. Districts One, Two and Four were the richest and the most favored of Capitol.
The Capitol; the ones who controlled us and would do anything to keep us in line. Even I, seventeen year old Rayne Wiress, didn’t understand exactly how it worked. I just knew that they could destroy us easily and they planned to if we didn’t compete in their Games.
The Hunger Games, a cruel torturing device used by the Capitol to control its surrounding districts. Twenty-four kids, two from each of the remaining districts, compete in a fight to the death. One will survive. It is a game, they told us. But I knew what they are telling us. ‘Look how we take your children and make them fight. Go out of line, and the same will happen to you.’
“Good job giving away your location,” I replied curtly, glaring at the girl. She throws her head back and laughs manically. I took a hesitant step back. She is going insane, or maybe already there, and it is only the second week of the Games.
“I meant to,” she chuckled, her hands gripping tighter on a thin and long stick. Quilava snorted, sending puffs of smoke out of its nostrils like a Torkoal. I glanced at Kirlia, my partner for these games. He is glaring at the Volcano Pokemon, eyes squinted and hands clenched. “Quilava, sweetie,” Myddie/Maddie said quietly but just loud enough for me to hear, “aim a dazzling Flamethrower at those…” she paused, adding effect, “things.”
I took yet another step back, hand on the cylinder at my side. By pressing a single button I can be protected from one attack with a shield fastened from an Aggron’s plates. But only once before it would break. My other hand goes to my knife.
Kirlia raises his arm at the pair, shaking it angrily as he yells at them in Pokemon speak.
“Calm down,” I snap quietly, placing a hand on the Psychic Pokemon’s thin shoulder. Quilava is preparing his fiery blast, almost ready to aim at us. “When I say now, use Magical Leaf at the girl. Keep using it until she falls. She doesn’t have to die. And do it quickly.” I keep my voice low and quiet, praying that my enemy won’t hear.
“Rayne, you’re talking too quietly. Speak up,” the girl said, her dark eyes showing both fear and anticipation as Quilava readied his attack. For my death, no doubt.
“Why would I ever want to talk to you,” I replied, trying to keep calm. I don’t want this tribute to see my fear.
“But you’re talking right now,” she says, twirling her hair innocently. “You’re out of your comfort zone, aren’t you? You’re used to factories, not all these trees and dirt.”
“And you’re used to soft pillows and people waiting on you every day,” I retort, motioning with my hand to Kirlia. He took the hint.
A colorful array of leaves began to appear, falling lightly from the air onto Kirlia before firing themselves at Myddie/Maddie with brutal torrent. Each one hit her, creating deep cuts on her face, arms and chest. Her Quilava let out an anguished cry, shooting bursts of fire at each leaf. But the leaves kept coming, cutting easily through the fire. Quilava’s fire had been weakened by something, and looking at it more closely made me see that there were still the sparks from being paralyzed. Slowly the girl’s clothes began to fall off, revealing more cuts from the magical, razor sharp leaves. Dark blood flowed down her face and arms, leaving none of her pale skin exposed. I almost gagged.
“Come on!” I shouted, taking a few steps back, waiting for Kirlia to finish his last batch of leaves. He hurries after me, not even looking back as the Quilava shoot flames at Kirlia. “Use Teleport!”
I grabbed his hand just as he disappeared into nothing. It is a weird feeling, being between nothing and nothing, not here and not there. But it is soon over and I am back on the damp ground, far away from District 2’s female tribute. But I wasn’t too far away to hear the cannons go off.
The cannons were a sign that someone had perished, normally in the most brutal of ways. It is all a part of their Game.
In our world, we have a Capitol and twelve Districts surrounding it. Districts One, Two and Four made the most money and were considered the Capitol’s favorites. Districts Eleven and Twelve had people dying daily from hunger and accidents. The rest of the Districts had to make due the best they could.
They took two kids between the ages of twelve and eighteen from each district, making a total of twenty-four kids. Put them in one arena and tell them that only one can win. One can survive. Each kid, known as tributes, is paired with a Pokemon, either the first evolution of two evolution lines or the second of three. Both the kid and Pokemon were given a chip that, when one of their lives ended, the others would end as well. The kid that won would always be paired with that Pokemon. Apparently Pokeballs gets rid of the chip somehow, but the past winners are too scared to even try.
That’s how I met Kirlia. The most stubborn of any Pokemon I’ve ever met. But I like him; he’s nice and doesn’t give up. He’s a Psychic type, which isn’t that new considering the fact that I am from District Eight, home of factories. Many Electric, Steel and Psychic types can be found around the factories and everyone that works with machines has those types. My brother had a Raichu, which helped around the house when we couldn’t afford electricity. My father’s Grumpig helped him build machines with her Psychic powers.
So far, in the Games, there are fourteen kids left; fifteen including me.
Myddie/Maddie is dead, plus both tributes from Districts Seven and Nine. The twelve year old from District Twelve is dead as well as a thirteen year old from District Six. Plus three more that I couldn’t remember. Not everyone is that memorable before the Games had begun. Only those with the fiercest faces or the highest scores.
Kirlia shook me out of my thoughts, using his two hands to pull on my loose black shirt. He pointed with his head at the deeper woods, still dripping from the rainstorm we had the previous night.
“Yes, getting out of here is a good idea,” I mumbled, reaching out to grab Kirlia’s. “Here, climb on my back.”
The Pokemon looks exhausted, beads of sweat drifting down his forehead and pale green hat-thing. Teleporting any amount of distance took all energy out of Kirlia, leaving me to get us both to safety. Kirlia hesitantly crawls on my back, as if he still didn’t trust me 100% after the few weeks that we’ve been here. Yet he still wraps his skinny white arms around my neck and allows me to do the rest.
I ran through the thick forests and into the lighter forests, mud squishing under my simple brown shoes. Trees are spaced more apart and are filled with different berries, from the palm-sized, deep blue Oran berries to the much larger and lighter blue Yache berries. It is the perfect place to go if you are hurt, injured or if you just need a quiet place to rest. A few other tributes came her looking for food, but they ignored me completely, leaving me to my snacks and meals. It is also helpful when you were in need of something to cure poison or paralysis. Cheri Berries cured paralysis for Pokemon and infection for humans. Rawst berries cured burns for both of us. But Pecha is the most helpful of the berries, as they cured the poison that the Wiki berries had been ingested with before the Games, something that the Capitol found funny. Kirlia had been poisoned twice before we realized that the berries had caused it. Plus the soft pink berries were super sweet, which made both me and Kirlia happy and content with living off of them.
After only five minutes of running, we come across our own little hideout. Well hidden on the side of a dusty brown cliff, under the fallen rocks and decaying branches. Only a Pokemon knowing the move Psychic or one that is very strong physically, could get to it easily. Luckily, Kirlia knew Psychic. Under the large log, one that still had its green leaves growing on some of its branches, is a hole that leads to what could have been an old wine cellar but is big enough for at least three people to lie down and fall asleep. The walls are cold and covered in a layer of dust and there is no furniture, but it is a good place to lie down and rest for a while.
I set Kirlia on the ground, telling him quietly to use Psychic to lift the log. He obliged, weakly lifting the log a few feet above the ground, allowing me to slip into the dark cellar. Kirlia followed slowly, making sure he didn’t drop the log. Once inside he set it down gently, careful not to make any noise that would cause someone—or something—to hear us and find our hiding place.
In the back of the cellar is an old sweatshirt, something that I had been wearing at first. It is warm, but Kirlia and I decide that it is better to put edible berries in it instead. I walked over to it, unwrapped the blue sleeves and took out a couple of Oran berries that we had picked the day before, when it is still sunny and nice out instead of the gloom that now hung in the air.
I didn’t need to tell him to eat them. He just took one of the deep blue berries and devoured it, smearing a lighter blue juice around his mouth. I laughed.
“Do you think we need more food?” I asked, kneeling down in the dark of the room. “Hey, a little light, Kirlia?”
I am so thankful that I had received the TM Thunderbolt at the beginning of the Games. Kirlia shot a weak bolt at the pile of wood we had collected earlier, causing the sticks to catch fire and fill the cellar with a dim light. “Kirlia,” the Psychic type replied, kneeling down besides me and organizing the berries.
“Kir kir, Kirlia,” he said, pointing at the few Pecha berries we had left. I grinned.
“You really like sweets, don’t you?” I ask playfully, handing him one of them. “We should get more of those. And we have four Oran berries left, so we should collect some more of those. You know how helpful they are.”
Kirlia rolled his eyes. He hated the Oran berry flavor, though only because of its lack of the sweet flavor.
“I know, I know,” I replied, shaking my head slightly. “Oh, and I thought I saw some Mago Berries around where that District 2 tribute was…”
Kirlia looked away, as if he is uncomfortable with the issue of killing others. “Kir, kir,” he said weakly, lying down on the ground.
I smiled sadly, sitting against one of the walls. “Get some rest, I’ll watch,” I told him quietly, humming a soft melody that my father had once taught me. It was long until Kirlia is snoring lightly, fast asleep in the dim cellar.
Paired with my love, the incredibly awesome and amazingly fantastic Shock <3
Black and White Teams
Black FC: Alexa, 5243 2120 8993
Last edited by TsukiKaiki64; 11-25-2009 at 02:39 AM.