Chapter Text
You belong to me.
To me only.
Always.
The strong construction that was continued few blocks away from them woke him up by his sleep. He felt distorted. He hated how the workers never thought of the people living by. The light coming through few of the cracks on the walls add a slight breeze to his being. The carpets on the wall as worn as ever. He looked around, checking his clock so he wasn't going to be late.
No good sleep will ruin this day. His day.
Neteyam got up, his braids weren't neat anymore as he felt his fingers go through them. Perfect. Adding on more to his disastorous morning that has been for the few seconds. He has to ask grandmother to remake them for him, he thinks.
"Grandma!" He yells. No answer, he shrugs. Maybe she wasn't awake yet. He walks by the creaky floors to their shower room. The rats were squirming along as they ran through the corners to their hidden holes. Hiding from the running light. Their apartment was high, but poor. The floors were unkept, tiles in the bathroom cracked and slowly being picked piece by piece. Neteyam stared at an interesting spot of cracked tiles that were carved off. Feeling them between his finger tips as he could guess a certain piece was cut off. He continues with his shower to his unbraided hair. It needed to be braided again.
"Kiri!" He yells again. He comes to the kitchen, finally finding his so dear grandmother, making herself herbal tea.
"Oh there he is, my handsome boy!" She says. Cupping his face between her old calloused hands. He takes them off as he greets her back. He needed to find Kiri.
"Kiri!"
"I'm here brother, calm yourself. " She answers from down the hallway, carrying something fancy in her hands. He looks at it, were those...?
"Are those from the...?"
"They are, I had to make you a new one, for your special day." She says as she hands it to him. He felt the fabric. "And this..?" He looks up.
"From the curtains, it looks almost like the fancy ones right?" She asks. Feeling pleased in her work. Like always. He smiled back briefly as he tried it on. It did fit well, just had to be buttoned.
"Here." Kiri steps forward as she buttons the final pieced together. It was slightly too tight around his neck, but it made him have a good posture. He thanked her.
"You'll definately get it." She says. "I'm sure of it, no one has worked as much as you have this year 'Teyam." He smiled in agreeing expression.
He had to be the one. He worked his ass off for this, for the price, for his family. His ego wouldn't allow it to be anyone else. He puffs air out as he got the rest ready while being braided. His grandmother liked his braids to be neat and tight. Which was why he always preferred his; Kiri's were always bit loose around the end and lousy. He felt slacking off if she did them. But he didn't ever say it for the good of his heart. "Where's Tuk and Lo'ak?" He asked. Noticing no other congratulators for him leaving.
"They're picking up some bread from the store." Kiri said, avoiding his gaze. Neteyam stopped and looked at her long enough.
"You know we can't buy bread Kiri.." She squirmed as she got caught. Neteyam's stare worsened.
"Her illness has gotten worse. She coughs more, so Lo'ak suggested some fresh air..."
Neteyams sighed. The poison around their apartment didn't do her any good. He watched as his grandmother sipped her tea.
"Well.. as I get that prize we will get her a doctor, a proper one." He promised. As he was being held for the final touched by Kiri. He had to look perfect.
Last braid behind his ear and he was let off. He waved back at both of them, while leaving. Walking the stairs down. The elevator never worked; walking out the doors to the academy.
Neteyam was sweating his armpits off. Thank god the curtain fabric held well, because he was sweating like a pig. More or less counting the growling monster in his stomach. He entered the front doors in, walking to the main hall of the graduates. Meeting his fellow classmates on the way. Recognizeable faces Koro and Emalik standing in their rich popular group, glancing at his appearance.
"Neteyam!" His dear friend yelled. He glanced back. Celesti put her arm around his. He felt slightly repulsed inside but let it be.
"Glad you finally made it."
"Couldn't miss it of course." They stop at their group, she catches something on her nose.
"Why do you smell--"
"I gave the driver day off, it's reaping day."
"Well you should definately hire a new one then."
They reach the group who was, as always, gossiping.
"Look at his shirt; buying with daddy's money again." One of them says. Celesti joins with them. "Who? The richy boy?" They nod back. "Getting anything with daddy's money, when we all know he's just district filth.."
"You can't buy class with money... I mean look at her mother, oh I'm sorry his 'Ma'." Another mocked.
"How could they allow him to come the same school as us? Does that not shame them?"
"Who knows, all I know that he's too desperate." Neteyam mumbled.
"Oh stop the act Neteyam we all know you two spend time together."
"I don't spend time with him Arachne, I tolerate him." Neteyam sighed.
"Who cares, if I hear one more speech about these games I could just put him--"
"Put who?" Speak of the devil; Rotxo joins in. The rest of the group now scatter like snakes, not daring to finish the sentence. They look elsewhere, where as Neteyam looks at his gentle friend, he smiles. "Nothing, congratsultions on your academy work Rotxo." His short friend smiles back. "You too, Neteyam." But he looked uneasy, his smile was distorted. Neteyam looked confused.
"What? What is it?" He asked. Rotxo looked around the group, he wished they were rather alone at the moment, but they had no time to wish for such things. He gulped hard.
"The-- the prize-- it has been cancelled." He whispered.
..
..
..
Oh he cannot be serious.
"What?" Neteyam grits through his teeth. He takes him by the shoulders, squeezing maybe bit too tense for Rotxo's liking. Gaze cutting edges.
"Th-they cancelled it-- Highbottom cancelled it for this year. You have to be--"
"Students!"
The bell rang, meaning only one thing; the graduation ceremony was about to begin. The youngsters were assigned to their seats, Neteyam more distraught than ever. He felt betrayed. Why....why....WHY. Why was it cut off!?
After all of his hard work!? Burned to ashes!?
Unbelieveable. He clenches his jaw, he will have a migraine after this, but screw that for now. He stared Highbottom so hard he was certain he could burn through his skull. Plotting murder through his eyes.
"I'm sorry Neteyam.." He heard Rotxo whisper, turning his head to his.
"It was his decision, we don't know why--" he fidgeted as the announcement was made.
"Good evening everyone." He says so highly toxicated, drinking yet another one of his small yet noticeable holic drinks. Sending snips and electric shocks through his body before coming forward to everyone. Cascadia rolls her eyes.
"How does anyone let him speak here anymore?"
"Why hasn't the board kicked him out yet?" Another one adds. Neteyam just sighs in anger. The stumbling man got onto his pedestal, making a suprising but depressing speech of the games. As usual. He kept going on and on about the tributes which honestly did not interest Neteyam. He wanted his prize one way or another. That what he had worked for what he visioned for, for three whole years. For--
"I am sure that you've all heard the news already." Highbottom adds, making Neteyam lift his head once more, meeting Highbottom's gaze immediately. They burned against him. But he started to walk around the stage so he moved to other targets. "That the rich prize has been... excluded from this years graduation ceremony, for multiple reasons."
Bullshit. Called Neteyam.
"But there has been another change for that, instead of giving it to the hardest worker, me, and the game makers have made a deal." He said.
"The best mentor gets, the price."
"Excuse me?" Araze asks insulted.
Yellings and arguments were thrown at him. Unfairness, unjustified, wronged, awful and most of all; "inhuman"; one said. It made Highbottom's head tick faster. He slammed his hand against the board, making the auditorioum go into a deathly silence. He cleared his throat.
"Now; may I present to you this years gamemaker; and our collaborative partner; Dr Volumnia Gaul."
Turning their heads as the side doors were opened, stepping dressed in red and menacing look in her eyes as she scanned her future victims. Leathered gloves on her hands as they stacked together, smiling, smirking; to the whole class. Saying her greetings. "Thank you, Highbottom." Turning away from the toxic man, now to the audience.
"As said, I am Dr. Volumnia Gaul, your humble game maker, and this year will be very different to you students. The people who were racing for the famous Plith- prize this year have to execute a different kind of task other than a good school record.... mentor." She sighs blissfully, a manic grin behind it. "It is such joy to see your young faces, the future of Panem. What an exciting times." She laughs again menacingky.
She whispers to the mic, leaning in closer.
"Be a mentor, a good mentor; and the prize is yours and yours truly." As her last laugh. She exits away and waves like a royal. Neteyam scoffs under his breath.
Fucking people.
"It isn't fair right?"
He turns his head to Rotxo. "The system." He adds.
Neteyam furrows his brows. "What?"
"People should get these prizes deserved... but they always change it to their benefit--"
"I don't care about the system Rotxo." He stops and stares at Neteyam.
I only care about wanting that fucking prize one way or another. He thinks to himself as the glorious reaping ceremony music was about to begin. Highbottom came in front of the class once more.
"Let the reaping begin! I'll announce each of your tributes as the live goes on."
One. Two. Three. Four. And so on. Rotxo's name mentioned amongst the first ones. Neteyam turned to him. A lucky one. "You get the best of the litter."
Yet Rotxo looked repulsed. Disgusted even. "Remember... I am part of that litter." Neteyam turned back in scoffed inside his head. Whatever, he was lucky, most distritcts tributes just die in the first few minutes so he'll do whatever it takes for himself.
They were all really just numbers to him. He wanted to make himself laugh at one point whenever the most annoying and spoiled kids got the worst ones.
Have fun making a spectable of that, he thinks to himself.
Now on the last rows... nine, ten, eleven.... where was his name? It wasn't mentioned yet and it made him nervous. He peaked as Highbottom looked at the cards. Picking his own hands at the process. For fuck sake how long was this going to take?
"Oh Celeste you'll enjoy this... and district 12 boy; goes to Neteyam Sully." Highbottom announced. He turned to the screen. Watching as with bright light showing the skinny, underfed, colorful, curly haired boy.
Disappointing. Neteyam exhaled.
Spectable it is. Not a victor it seemed.
Come on. Come on. Come on.
It is your last reaping.
After this.... you'll be free.
If he has no balls in his sack, he wouldn't have done it.
Let it fucking pray he wouldn't do it.
Aonung stood in his place. He looked at the backs of the children, each scared of getting picked. Aonung waited, for eighteen years and not once has he been picked. This wouldn't be that day. Not now.
He embraced the cloth between his fingers. Making him keep his sanity for the moment.
Breathing as the mayor steps the stairs up. With his grey suit and tight bow. Picking the card from the litter of other names. Time stops and Aonung bites his lip.
Neteyam looks at the screens as the mayor picks the tiniest card. He opens his mouth and there it goes;
"Aonung Te'Tonowari'itan."
Fuck.
Fuck fuck fuck.
Why?
WHY.
WHY!?
Even the crowd of children amongst them were confused. Each face turned now to him. And him only.
Aonung felt evey rage and anger in his whole being be forced to suck in as he tried to hold his frown of anger while stepping out of the crowd.
Washed out brown rainbow colored pants and floral shirt made everyone gossip in the auditorium.
"What is that?" Cascadia asks. "Is he some sort of clown?" Neteyam looks as he walks with a slight strut to the stage. Winced smile while swining his arms.
"Aonung...I'm sorry I-- I didn't think she would--" a man steps out. Pleading to him when Aonung just keeps his head high.
Neteyam sneered as he saw someone from the crowd try to talk to him, some sort of regret in his face? Yet he turned around as soon as he walked by. He grinned.
"Sing your way out of this one Tonowari's boy." A girl his age sneered. Whispered to let out the pettiness she had, as last revenge before his untimely death. Aonung walks the same phase, rolling the snake around his arm and palm.
This is my revenge for you. He thought to himself. As the girl chuckled to herself Aonung turns, puts the snake to her neck, crawling underneath her sweet sweet dress; bought by daddy's money.
The mayor yells "daughter!"
His sweet sweet daughter! Oh my help her! What a tragedy! How sad.
Neteyam stands unexpected, looking at the screen now more intensly. Oh how those blue eyes have gotten his attention now.
How amusing.
And the guards do so, yet the snake had crawled away. Just in time as Aonung smiled briefly; walking those stairs up to the mayor--
And he was in the ground. Groans of pain as the slap was hard. Even the peacekeepers had to drag him away as he was going for another one. Aonung laid there, catching his conciousness as well as his dignity. They tried to help him but he refused. Spreading his fingers to "wait". And so they did. He looked at the dusty stage he now layed on. If only death was swifter. End him there and now.
Yet he heard a song.
A melody.
Voices from the crowd of their song.
Of the covey.
He looked as his sister sang loud and sad. The people around her starting to cry as they joined her.
You could take my pa but his name's a history...
He looked at her tears as he tried to pick up his own.
"Nothing you could take..." He sniffled. " -- was ever worth keeping.
He stood up. Dusting himself off like a victor should. Singing. More judgement from Neteyam's fellow classmates as well.
"Singing... is he out of his mind?"
Oh if only Cascadia could shut her mouth Neteyam thought.
He will show them. Oh he will show them.
Sing what he has to say.
"You can't take my charm." He spitted.
"You can't take my humour." He stands up out of spite. A guard tries to go and stop him but another one stops him. Keep it low. Keep it cool.
Soldiers putting a gun to the cameramen's heads. "Capitol says keep going." But it was entertaining. Aonung spins around. He will scream it to your faces. Seeing the mic as he walks around it, taking a hold onto it.
"...Nothing you can take -- was ever worth keepin'."
You can't take my sass!
Singing on live television. Can this boy amuse Neteyam any more? He sang throughout his heart, grabbing the mic.
Maybe he has a chance at this.....
You can't take my talkin'..
Aonung waited a bit as he sneered at the crowd.
"And you can kiss my ass!" He yelled so loud that he knew the capitol would hear him.
...Or not.
He stared at the lense as he dropped the mic to the ground like it was nothing. Bowing to the people as his last performance. There you go, have fun with out your little songbird.
And so he stands up again, flailing his hands out as he goes out first.
"Let's go." He said to his fellow soldiers.
And the reaping was over after that.
Neteyam picking up the cookies he saved as he ate alone in the back exit. Feeding them to himself as he thought of his chancesnnow. Would he win? Maybe but it was less unlikely due to the treatment they get in twelve. He swallowed as hearing footsteps close by. He turned and there he was;
Dean Highbottom of course. Why was he smiling?
"Look at you... future of Panem. You look alot like your parents, did you know that?"
Neteyam puts the cookie back inside his trousers.
"Alot of people have told yes."
Highbottom nodded in agreement as he strolled around him. Thinking.
"Enlighten me... Mr. Sully... if you would win this prize money what then?"
Neteyam looked like he was confused at the question. "I would go on to University, sir. Naturally."
"And.. if not?"
Now he was actually confused.
"If not what--"
"If you were not to win it, what then?"
Oh I see. Neteyam thought. He was playing the game.
"I would pay the tuitions myself of course?" He said proudly. And Highbottom only snickered.
"Look at you..." He started, eyes looking down at his... attire.
"With your.. too tight shoes and unmatching shirt, and your fathers strong ego." He paused, as if holding a chuckle.
"When I know the Sully's don't have a pot to piss in." Letting out the quarter of the amusement he so badly tried to hide. Neteyam bit the inside of his cheek and clenched his jaw. This was certainly not his day. He looked elsewhere as if now trying to deminish Highbottoms existence, like he was never even there. The blaimed man left soon enough. And there was left Neteyam in the exit, wiggling his toes for the sudden tightness in the front of his shoe.
Fuck these games.
"He's sabotaging us. You saw him, he has no chance of winning these games." Neteyam said as he circled around his room, Kiri listening to him as the rest had gone to bed. They whispered in the politeness against their other family members.
"But Dean said it's not about winning--"
"Everything is about winning, these games, the winner of the prize; everything." He said, biting his nails out of stress. Kiri gets up and takes his hand to hers.
"Don't bite them again." She scolded. He stopped and sighed of exhaustion.
"I just need to get for him to sing again, that could win their hearts." Determined face as he looks back at his sister. She only sighs, gets up and starts leaving the room. Yet stopping at the entryway.
"I wouldn't sing a note for you if I was him. At the very least only trust you if you could symphatize what I feel in that moment."
Neteyam looks puzzled.
"Kiri--"
"No 'Teyam. Imagine it was your name that they pulled and suddenly ripped from your home!" Louder than expected as she pointed him to make the point across. Kiri fixes her use of volume quick.
"Or know that there would be someone who still cared about me out here... just because he's district doesn't mean you two couldn't have something in common." Her last words as the hand supporting her body takes off while she goes to rest. Saying last good nights to eachother as the next day awakening.
Meeting your tributes.