A Tribute Becomes A Jumper

I silently study the images displayed on the wall at the other end of the classroom. As I do I have to repress a shudder. The images being projected onto the screen are of hovercraft floating over the devastated remnants of the 13th District, smoke still visibly coming off of some of the rumble in the image. 

My classmates are silent as they study the pictures being projected onto the wall. None of us manage to keep up the facade that we are gung-ho about Panem’s history as we stare at the propaganda we are being fed. Not here, mere days before the reaping. 

Our teachers note this and they frown at us. Some of them are former victors themselves, they are annoyingly, sometimes even dangerously, perceptive people. 

A few awkward seconds pass, before one of the adults in the room quietly presses a button on the remote control in her hand, and the images portrayed change. We all audibly cheer, though I knew that no one in the room really believed us. The adults smile softly though, not quite heartened by our display but definitely feeling a bit better. 

It was one thing to be excited about the games, it was another thing altogether to be excited about history. The rest of the class passes by quickly enough, with no more awkward pauses due to any particularly disturbing images. The rest of the images we are exposed to for the day’s history lesson are the images of the very first “Victory Tour” held in the wake of the eleventh Hunger Games. 

When a shrill bell rings out of a speaker affixed to the room’s northwestern wall, we all quickly stand up and begin to make our way towards the door right next to the speaker. The door softly swings outward as the first student to reach it swings it open and steps out into the gigantic courtyard which connected the various classrooms of the Augustus Braun Victory Academy.

As I step out of the classroom, alongside the rest of my class, the sounds of distant mock combat begin to creep into the very edges of my perception. I can distantly hear students, all of whom are younger than myself, training for the day that they may attempt to become the district’s tribute. 

Other students who step out of the classroom with me, most of whom are smaller than me, wince as they hear the faint sounds of sparring. An occasional scream manages to cut through the din as we begin our walk towards the part of the facility dedicated to weapons training. Along the way, we silently walk past electric screens attached to the walls of the building.

These screens all project various images of the same cast of characters. The images are heroic-looking pictures and artistic depictions of various victors from District 1. The most famous of those victors is the academy’s namesake and headmaster; Augustus Braun himself. 

I quickly look away whenever we pass by a screen that flashes his chiseled face. As I do I hear quiet snickering behind me. This annoys me but I do my best to mask my emotions. It’s bad enough to be a sibling of a victor at home, I don’t really need to draw extra attention to myself here of all places. 

It only takes us a minute or two of walking to reach the gigantic elevators that, when activated, will take us down into the depths of my brother’s academy. We reach them and an adult guard in peacekeeper garb presses the button to call the thing to us. None of us are talkative as we wait for the massive metal doors in front of us to part. 

The man smirks at me specifically as my class waits for the soft sound of the elevator’s arrival to herald us having a chance to hit each other with practice weapons. I offer a smile to the peacekeeper. He is far from the only adult who has been weird to me today. That’s what happens to a Braun on their 18th birthday. 

Eventually, this strange moment is ended by the arrival of the elevator. A soft “ting” sound emanates from the machine, and the doors slide open. We all step forward into the cavernous maw of the elevator, and as we do I see many of my peers begin to smirk and chuckle excitedly. I know what they’re thinking. Even I begin to get a little bit excited whenever we get a chance to visit the pseudo-cornucopia waiting for us.

Elsewhere in the District 1 settlement nicknamed “The Jade City”, a man and a woman sit across from each other in a stately home office. The room is completely shut off from the outside world, and the woman silently reads a small, highly personalized journal. 

She is a short redheaded woman with catlike green eyes. She has an air of innocence about her and doesn’t look like she has a care in the world. Nevertheless whenever she yawns her mouth seems to flicker in and out of reality, and her teeth sometimes change. For a few seconds they’ll be sharklike, or vampiric looking, or even have massive tusks, before flickering back to mimic a human’s teeth.

The man, on the other hand, is a tall, blonde fellow and he silently stares at her. He has a panicked air about him. His fingers tap on the regal wood of the desk that keeps the two of them apart. 

He wants to say something but he physically cannot speak. He tried, minutes ago, and eventually gave up as for some reason the parts of his body necessary for him to speak simply refuse to allow him to do so. 

The redheaded woman quietly turns the page of the notebook she is reading. As the page is turned words begin to appear on the previously empty page that she is turning to. She smiles as she continues to wordlessly read the contents of the telepathic notebook she is holding. 

The strange figure eventually looks up from the book she has apparently found quite riveting. As she does her eyes flit to the small, framed photograph on the desk that separates the inhabitants of the room. The photograph is small and kept in a surprisingly simple wooden frame, but its presence at all is quite telling. 

She is silent for a moment. And then she begins to smile. Her smile is terrifying in a way that the man cannot articulate. Her smile is terrifying to her “host” in a way that is beyond the ability of creatures as simple as humans to express. 

“Oh, Cossus… You’re such a cute little thing.” She says, referring not to the man in front of her but to one of the figures in the picture. The picture itself is of a handsome family consisting of Marcus Braun, Augustus Braun, Claudia Braun, and the youngest member of the family; Cossus Braun. 

Cossus Braun is a handsome, somewhat darker-haired, almost-carbon copy of his older brother as far as appearances go. He has his brother’s gigantic build, well-honed muscles, and impressively sharp features, but lacks the man’s signature blonde hair. His hair is not blonde but rather a soft shade of brown.

The eerie woman in front of Marcus flashes her “Host” a predatory look. He is the father of the sole figure she is interested in, the younger sibling of the winner of the 67th Hunger Games. 

Marcus does not look like either of his children. He is a smaller man than they are, though not at all a weak one. He is more barrel-like than they are, but his strength is obvious nonetheless. Regardless, as he watches this bizarrely tigerlike figure, he knows for sure that if she wanted to kill him she could have. There is something about her that assures him of that, and so he quietly waits for her to do something of some real importance. 

Eventually, hours begin to pass. At first, the wait is hard for Marcus because he is afraid of the tigerlike woman. After the second hour, it begins to get a bit easier. By that point, the woman’s actions have suggested that she has no interest in killing the man, and is instead bizarrely fixated on his younger son so Marcus quietly assumes she is no enemy. This is partially due to a number of perks she possesses working their magic on him and is not somehow the byproduct of any sort of logical thought process. 

When something finally happens it is the quiet opening of a door into the spacious home by a member of the family. This subtle action, one that was unnoticed and unheard by Marcus himself, does not escape the notice of the inhuman being seated across from him. Ghriza wordlessly gets up and steps to the door leading out of the office. As she does she turns away from Marcus and giggles gently. 

She opens the door leading out of the office with a small look of excitement on her face. Her excitement does not fade as she steps out of view, and before Marcus can even feel a twinge of happiness at the thought that he has been freed from his strange captor he tries to stand up. His body does not listen to his commands. He inwardly grimaces as he finds that he cannot get up. This causes the fear that he had begun to not feel to return in force. 

Ghriza steps away from the door leading to and from the office and walks down a small walkway to position her head over the second-floor railings in front of her. As she does she spots the figure she had come to this little world for; Cossus. She begins to call out to him excitedly, causing the worn-out figure to visibly jump in surprise as he steps into the foyer of his stately home and looks in her direction.

As soon as I enter my home I receive an unwanted birthday present in the form of a guest I did not invite to my home greeting me excitedly. The very second that I step into the foyer of my home a figure hurtles herself at the railing of the second floor of my home and screams my name. I immediately leap back in shock and reel from the energy in her voice.

I look up at her and for a split second, I can see that she is a young-looking redhead whose face is almost childlike. There is a certain… tone to her voice that reveals quite easily that she is not as young as she appears, but it is still a challenge for me to pin any sort of age on her. That is mostly because I cannot look at her enough to study her in detail. 

She is saying my name excitedly, but as she repeats it I begin to feel a bit… strange. My very brain begins to pound against my skull and for a split second, I can feel my heartbeat in my head as my mind races. 

At the very same time, the stranger begins to skip towards the stairwell that will lead her to where I am. As she approaches I try to look at her but it is challenging for reasons I cannot find the words to explain. I cannot bring myself to actually stare at her, or even really look at her and focus enough to get a clear look at her.

I distinctly begin to feel myself dropping to my knees as my mind fills with knowledge I intuitively know isn’t my own. I see images of various incredible wonders from the very same hovercraft that take tributes to the Arena where they duel for fame, honor, and wealth, every year, to various sorts of “Mutts” that the Capitol is known to breed. But that’s not all. 

My mind also fills with knowledge of how to create these technological wonders! I can sense how to create every component of even the most advanced of these strange devices and stranger lifeforms. Some of the technology and lifeforms I feel myself learning how to create are terrifying, such as the strange canine-like creatures with nightmarishly human faces.

I spend several moments on my knees, all while the stranger bounds toward me. As she gets closer I find myself better able to look at her, and I can look at her face enough to make out a haunting smile. Her teeth are perfect, but there is a strange sort of… glow that follows her that scares me in a subtle but thorough way. 

“Cossus! Did you like my birthday gift?” She asks when she reaches me. She places a hand on my shoulder and uses her free hand to tilt my head so that I can stare at her. As she does she giggles softly and seems to tremble in excitement. 

“Who are you?” I ask, managing to utter the words more cohesively than I dared hope I could have. She tilts her head askew for a second as she considers how to respond to my question. And then she smiles, more cutely this time, before uttering a short sentence. 

“I’m your sponsor.” She says with a sly smile on her lips.