Title: To Find a Mockingjay (SYOT)
Subtitle: Rainbows, Unicorns, Puppies, Cotton Candy, and the 75th Hunger Games (SYOT)
Description: The rebels need a victor—a Mockingjay, to lead them all—now.
Summary: President Coriolanus Snow's face slightly drops in disappointment. "No flying pigs?"/ "I rather doubt it, sir."/ "Fire breathing octopi?"/ "Not necessarily."/ He sighs. "You Gamemakers need to take some creativity lessons." (SYOT OPEN)
Rating: T for Terrific, Terrible, Terrified Tributes
Main Characters/Pairings: SYOT OPEN (ugh I'm getting tired of this word already.)
Genre: Adventure, Horror, Hurt/Comfort, Friendship (?), Angst (?), Comedy (?)
Disclaimer: Do I look like Suzanne Collins to you?
A/N: This is an SYOT (cue the groans and eye rolls). Forms of submission can be found in my profile.
Huge thanks to my wonderful beta: Amber1015
"And I thought that Everdeen might've actually had a chance," she said, tossing a can of cheap beer at the drunken mentor from District 12.
Of course, Haymitch, being too drunk for fast reflexes, got hit on the head with the can, making a dull, swishing, thunk!
Johanna winced at the sound. "My bad."
"Yeah, yeah, at least the boy survived…whatever—doesn't matter," Haymitch slurred, not even lifting a hand to examine the injury. He reached over the table for the beer that had rolled away after hitting his head. He picked it open with a satisfying click and began gulping down the substance, not bothering to stop for breath.
"Where's the boy anyway?" Cecelia interceded in with her soft, motherly voice in an attempt of a conversation.
Haymitch kept chugging down the beer, and the victors surrounding the table observed, not interrupting, as he emptied the can.
"He's still healing. Got an operation a few days ago. Left leg."
"Ah," said Cecelia, and decided to say no more with Chaff at the table.
Finnick reached over to Johanna and plucked the bottle from her hands, earning an infuriated "hey!". He took a gulp, and smiling charmingly, he said, "I guess we'll have to find another Mockingjay, then."
Silence loomed over the table as Finnick finally stated the inevitable.
Beetee decided to speak up. "Well, we always have Johanna."
It was an old joke, kept going by the victors since the 71st Hunger Games. Still, that fact didn't stop Johanna from crying out an annoyed "What?" at the old inventor. A few of the victors chuckled lightly.
"Naw," Finnick grinned good naturally, putting an arm around Johanna's chair as she scoffed at him. "Wouldn't have worked with Jo here as the Mockingjay. We're the only ones who like her, much less can tolerate her."
"Finally, someone who's on my side," Johanna muttered sarcastically, rolling her brown eyes to the heavens.
"But, seriously," Cashmere lowly said. "We're running out of time. We need a Mockingjay…now." Pausing, she thought for a moment, before adding, "I'm guessing Peeta Mellark's not exactly the Mockingjay type, huh?"
"Boy will snap like a twig," Beetee told her dismissively.
"At least people like him," Finnick stated a little too innocently and earned Johanna's sharp elbow in his ribs.
"Guess we'll have to wait for another year then," she said, watching Finnick with a satisfied smirk as he doubled over in pain. "How's 13 holding up?"
"Well, that's the problem. They don't have much time. They'll be ready soon—very soon—and by then, we need to have a Mockingjay. Next year will be perfect, but if our Mockingjay doesn't show up by then, we're done," Beetee informed them solemnly, and suddenly the temperature in the room seemed to drop several degrees. The light, joking mood was gone; the victors all wore grim, severe expressions. Even Haymitch set his can down on the table, trying to wrap his drunken mind around the situation.
"Yeah, but this year's the Quell," Gloss's voice cut through the silence. When Cecelia raised an inquiring eyebrow, he explained, "That's a plus for us. Plutarch can bend and change the rules of the game without raising too much suspicion. Also, he can set the arena so that only the person with the traits we want in the Mockingjay can survive."
"But what if there's no one with the qualities we want in the Mockingjay?" Chaff gruffly asked, only feebly trying to mask his concern.
"There must be a few in the country," Beetee said grimly, pushing his glasses far up his nose. His fingers tapped the table rapidly. "Plutarch can always make up a decent lie to change the way the reapings go, so those few will get reaped."
Finnick frowned. "Well, that sounds like rather the risky bet."
Chaff nodded. "I'm guessing that we'll have to take the chance?"
Haymitch surprised everyone by nodding grimly, his features sober. "We'll have to make sure the worthiest, most rebellious of Panem get reaped and win."
~.~.~
"—the worthiest, most rebellious of Panem get reaped—and win."
President Coriolanus Snow's face drops slightly in disappointment.
"Ah, I suppose that's rather a good idea, Heavensbee, but I was thinking more along the lines of something more—ah—creative."
Plutarch's lips upturn the slightest bit. "What do you mean, exactly, sir?"
Snow's eyes twinkle in excitement. "Well, for example, a boy with the initials A. A. gets reaped for District One. A girl with the initials B. B. shares the same fate, and so on."
Plutarch shakes his head ever so slightly. "I don't think that would work, sir."
Ignoring the protest coming out of the old man's mouth, the Head Gamemaker stubbornly continues, "There are 12 Districts and 26 letters. Doesn't divide perfectly. And as you know, the Quarter Quell's all about perfection. Also, I doubt that there'll be someone with the initials X. X. anyway."
Snow sighs. He'd thought that his idea had been a pretty good one.
"Oh!" he cries out suddenly when another wonderful idea hits him. "How about we reap the same number of tributes as the number of the District they represent?"
Plutarch is shaking his head even before Snow finishes his statement, which makes the President scowl in displeasure.
"That's a pretty great idea, sir, however, it won't be great for you politically. We want to stay on good terms with One, and mostly, Two. However, they might think it's a disadvantage for them if only one or two tributes are reaped from them and twelve from the other districts. And trust me, you don't want any more districts turning against the Capitol at this point."
"At this rate, I suppose that you're going to say no to snow made out of blood?"
"Your last name is Snow, sir, you don't want the Capitol to relate you to blood in any way. Plus, you don't want anything unoriginal for this Quell."
"No flying pigs, then?" Snow asks hopefully.
"I rather doubt it, sir," Plutarch answers with a small smile.
"Fire breathing octopi?"
"Not necessarily."
Snow sighs. "You Gamemakers need to take some creativity lessons."
"If that pleases you, sir, then I will arrange it."
"Oh well…whatever," Snow mutters grudgingly in defeat. He sighs. "Alright then, what was your very original idea? The worthiest or something? Yeah, whatever."
"Sir, let me explain why this is a brilliant idea to you before you disagree. This idea will help you with almost all of your problems."
The president's eyebrows shoot up in intrigue. Will the game somehow help him with his hair problems? He was losing a lot of hair lately.
"The rebellion, sir," Snow's face darkens at the statement, from both the thought of the uprising districts and the fact that Plutarch did not carry any solution to his hair problem.
"What about it, Heavensbee?" he asks reluctantly.
"Well, sir, we—and possibly the majority of the districts—know that there has been a…shift…in the atmosphere. Little talks of defiance, not pledging for the flag of Panem—little things, only little things, however, put together, deadly."
Snow curls his lips. He, of course, knows this and isn't very grateful that Plutarch is reviewing it. However, he trusts his Head Gamemaker enough not to interrupt; Plutarch Heavensbee isn't one of those fools who thought that they were clever.
"Some districts are as good as having declared rebellion, like—as you already know—Districts One, Three, Four, Seven, Eight, and Eleven. And their victors too are speaking up against the Capitol. Although there hasn't been a direct uprising yet, it's only a matter of time." Plutarch pauses to clear his throat.
"Your point, Heavensbee?" Snow interrupts, slightly miffed at Plutarch's calm attitude when speaking of such a treacherous subject.
Plutarch patiently continues in the same tone, as if he is just retelling a completely irrelevant fact. "My point is, the most talented, worthiest of Panem are usually the first to join the rebellion when it happens." Snow doesn't like it at all when Plutarch said when and not if. "So why not finish them off first? Before they're any trouble? Why not reap them and put them in the arena? And why not save the worthiest of them all and use them as our very own puppet?
"Plus, what if we punish the rebellious districts first? When we put them in the arena, why not let them fall in traps while the districts that are loyal to the Capitol stay safe from the arena's dangers? Of course, we can do nothing about the interactions between the tributes, but the Capitol-sided-arena will both warn the districts and punish them."
Snow's puffy lips slowly curl into a smile as the thought is digested.
He nods. "Very nice, very nice. Heavensbee, I owe you one."
Plutarch smiles back. "I'll immediately go and change the envelope, sir," and he dismisses himself.
~.~.~
"It was never tribute against tribute, district against district. It had always been us against them, the Capitol," Johanna said, reaching over to the middle of the table where a pile of sugar cubes sat in a pyramid.
"To hell with them," Finnick said curtly, raising his glass of vodka as if toasting.
As if they had rehearsed this, the other seven victors sitting around the table also raised their glass.
"Whoever the Mockingjay becomes," Cecelia said solemnly, "I desperately hope that the odds will be forever in their favor. And ours too."
"And may the odds ever be in favor of the people's liberty and rights," Beetee added flatly.
The eight leaders of the rebellion faced each other with tight expressions, and after some unspoken communication was held between them, they nod; a spontaneous, curt little thing, barely visible, but carrying so much more meaning than words could ever carry.
A/N: So, this was the first chapter. Let me know what you guys think of it.
The form of the submission will also be on my profile, but please read the notes and rules below. (Nothing big and complicated, just the basics.) Feel free to PM me if you have any questions, or if you're simply bored and want to communicate with someone.
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Rule 1| Half-assed forms are not welcome. The form doesn't need to be an entire thesis or something, but seriously, elaboration, people. You can't just give me a name and a few personalities and hope for me to work out the rest of the form. (Twenty-four people exceed my limits. NO BULLET LISTS. End of the story.)
Rule 2| Preferably submit an original and unique character. It doesn't matter if they're normal – yes cliché tributes are also welcome, but think about submitting someone different if you have some time left. However, no Mary Sues will be accepted.
Rule 3| You can submit up to three tributes. I don't know what's up with that number, but apparently, a lot of SYOT writers think that three is a great number limit for submitting tributes. It won't be first come first serve, though I will accept most of the tributes.
Rule 4| I have the right to change anything about your tributes, but being the lazy, go-with-the-flow person I am, I doubt I'll modify anything. But just in case your tribute overlaps with another submission, I might PM you so we can work something out.
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Note 1| This SYOT can end in four or more different ways. I really don't want to spoil it for you, but based on the tribute who wins, the rebels might not be able to get a Mockingjay and start a rebellion. That will also be an interesting ending… What I'm trying to say is that the story plot doesn't really have anything to do with who gets to win. So don't sweat over making your character a perfect figure for the Mockingjay, or worse, Katniss Everdeen. I don't need one of those.
Note 2| I recommend writing out the form in a separate document and copying it. I've submitted some SYOTs before, and it's really annoying if you've filled out all the long forms and then it expires (cue the hair-ripping). If you wish to send in the form by PM instead, just contact me, and I'll send you the form.
Note 3| In this story, the districts are divided into two categories; the Capitol Side and the Rebel Side. The Capitol Sides are the Districts 2, 5, 6, 9, 10, and 12, and the Rebel Sides are the Districts 1, 3, 4, 7, 8, 11.The Capitol Side districts have the arena advantage—their tributes won't necessarily die directly because of the arena. However, only the Rebel Side districts can earn sponsors. But don't sweat over this, every 5 days in the story, a random Capitol district (except for District 2) will turn into a Rebel district, applying the rule above. So I recommend you to choose the district you want, not the district you think will be the best for survival.
Note 4| The tributes must excel in the industry of their districts. It doesn't matter how old, how smart, and what kind of personality they have—they must be way above average in their district's industry. Again, that does not mean that your tribute has to be smart and old. Also, your tribute has to have one other skill—it seriously doesn't matter what it is, from singing to making perfect apple pies (I doubt it) to building a model of the Eiffel Tower with any kind of material. It can be anything, (except for superpowers of course) but it is required.
Note 5| I've already got the whole arena planned out, so I won't be making up traps and playing favorites as the story goes on. Therefore, the tribute's skills and personalities that will help them in the arena, not vice versa (*Hint: The tributes' names are going to play an essential part in the arena).
Note 6| The District 7 female tribute cannot choose her chariot outfit. I know, it sounds incredibly odd, but I already got something planned out. Sorry (not really) for your inconvenience.
Note 7| Please don't abandon the story after submitting a tribute. The creator of the tribute may have to make choices in the story once in a while.
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I'll write these notes and rules on my profile too. PMs, comments, questions, and criticism are more than welcome. I'd be really grateful if you decide to submit a tribute.