Tribute Name: Saige Porter
Shelfari Name: Brianna Eliza
Appearence: She is short for her already small enough age of 12 with long, beautiful black flowing hair and deep, inviting gray- blue eyes.
Bio: She lives with her father and sisters.The youngest of three sisters, she works in an electric factory where they produce hovercraft (District 6: Transportation). Her job is to race them down a runway to see if anyone could possibly escape them, given to her for her impeccable ability to run "like the wind."
Reaping Story: I sit on the cold, hard floor of the runway awaiting the end of the workday. The end of anyone's happiness, young or old. My frequent coworker I race from below steps over and sits beside me. "How come you're so blue, Saigey Q?" he asks with that familiar friendliness that you can't help but return, only with today's circumstances, you could. "Lennie, it's reaping day, you know? How can anyone not be at least a little anxious? It's my first year, Hinna's third, and Kraine's fifth. If any of us get picked I don't know what I'd do!" I shoved my face in my hands, thinking of how hysterical father must get on these days. Now that he has my name in the bowl, he has three lives to weep for. Lennie gently pats my back, but quickly stops when he realizes he's gotten dust from his work gloves on my jacket. The buzzer rings, sentencing the end of the workday. "Oops, well you're gonna have to go get changed now. I'll be up on that stage, too, you know. In fact, if you or your sisters get reaped, at least you'll have something reassuring to hold on to... I'll be your mentor since I won my Hunger Games a while back." That's right! I'd almost forgotten he'd pulled it off, hiding in a bush the whole time just letting everyone devour each other. "I remember. And you're right, I have to go put something nice on so at least we walk to the gallows in style." He gave a smile. "That's the spirit. Now go on!"
I get home to a hectic house. Hinna and Kraine are more worried about how their hair looks for the boys that don't get reaped than to even notice me walk in the door. This is normal. Being the youngest, least pretty girl I get the hand-me-down dresses, hair bows, and basically anything else. Father isn't home yet, he works late most nights, but he wouldn't possibly miss reaping, it's illegal. And, not soon enough, he walks through the door with little trinkets for us to assemble into our outfits. They mostly have to do with mom. Her token in The Games was a butterfly ring. He hands Kraine an elegant butterfly necklace, Hinna a beautiful butterfly headband and tells them to go incorporate them. He takes me by the hand onto our narrow front porch. "Saige, I know you're a big girl and I will never let anything happen to you. I want you to add this to your outfit." He hands me the same exact butterfly ring my mother wore to her Games and never came back with. "How did you even get this back, Father? Wouldn't the Capitol have taken it?" He gives me a half stern look, we aren't supposed to mention the Capitol at all ever since the 75th Hunger Games when the Katniss girl tried to overthrow everything. "No, actually one of my good friends in the head of office found it and personally delivered it a couple years ago and I told myself that, no matter what, you would take this ring from me and wear it as a proud symbol of a prosperous life full of love and friendship. Are you willing?" I could not refuse the ring, it was as if I was refusing my mother in her entirety. Plus it was so beautifully jeweled, I felt almost hypnotized just glimpsing at it. Of course I offered my hand. My left. My middle finger. Just like my mother. "Good luck my beautiful little butterfly. Now go get ready!"
We walked, silent as ones condemned to the murder of the century. I kicked stones the whole way there, watching them fly across the ground wondering, if I was to be reaped, what kind of terrain would it be? Desert, Plains, Mountains, Beach? Nothing? Would there be anything at all? How long would it take for the Capitol to realize we're not dying fast enough and set some sort of muttation on us? Just how long? We reach the town square, the sun is already very hot, scorching even. Our Capitol representative, Yvonne Jinx, is "a piece of work," as Father says. He's right. No matter what climate or occasion she wears a set of neon green pumps with florescent purple hair in curls all the way down her back. She always wears some sort of revealing dress as if she's impressing someone. She is the stingiest person, too. Always making haste of the reaping, calling the tributes insulting names, even talking Lennie down. I don't like when people are rude to my friends. She welcomes us all in a very easily detected hint of sarcasm on her voice. "Hello, everyone. Let's get this over with, shall we?" She reaches her hand into the boy's bowl only to pull out the name of 13-year-old pale boy who looks faint, but someone who seems to be his older brother, or just a kind simmaritan, steps up and volunteers for him. Poor boy, his mother falls hopeless weeping on the ground, calling to her son. Finding no response. She'll never forget that pale little boy. Yvonne turns her attention partially to the new tribute boy. "What's your name? Speak up! Carl? Carl Jent? Alrighty then, that's lovely." The boy looks about 17, strong, he could possibly even have a chance to win. Yvonne interupts my train of thought. "Let's get to the girls, then." The worst part for my family is the aching silence just after the boy tribute's name has been called and before, potentially, my own. Strangely enough... "And the tribute from the girls is... Kraine Porter. Yipee- Ky- Yay." My jaw drops with a tremendous crack I'm positive everyone could hear, except they couldn't, not over the sound of a screaming Kraine refusing to walk up the steps to the stage and into certain death. It is such a horrifying sight, the peacekeepers pleading my sister onto the stage. Kraine was 16 and they had to baby her to even stand up. She kept shouting she didn't want to go. I glanced over at my father's beat red, embarrassed face. Though, I could't tell if it was out of her actions or the Capitols. I found myself contemplating a most psychotic thought, and then found mysef screaming it. "I'll volunteer as tribute for her! I'll volunteer!"
I walk up the stage stairs and turn to look at a crying Father. The last words he mouthed to me, "Good luck my beautiful little butterfly."
Strengths (3): Agility, Strategy, Foraging
Weakness (1 major): Strength
Other: Curiosity might have killed the cat, but Saige knows how to sit back and watch when it comes down to it, she can just sit in a tree for days and wait until everyone's gone.
*Sorry I basically wrote a novel... :3