A/N: Hello there! This is an idea of mine that I've had for a while, and only now have I found a way to completely make it work. As you have guessed, this is a Battle Royale/Hunger Games crossover. How does this work, you ask? Well, read ahead and see... ;D
I do not own the Hunger Games or Battle Royale; they belong to Suzanne Collins and Koushun Takami, respectively.
Dew, the current head Gamemaker of the Hunger Games, rubbed her temples as she looked at the screen in front of her. She hadn't moved for days, and was suffering from a mild case of sleep deprivation and dehydration, but a vicious smile was growing on her face. She had just finished the virtual model of the next arena for the Hunger Games; a tropical island, complete with a volcano set to explode on the fourth night. It was all going perfectly, and would be her best Games yet.
Then again, it had to, especially after the horrible mishap in the 67th Games. The tributes from District 8 used the jabberjays in the arena to spread anti-Capitol messages throughout the arena, meaning that it was broadcast all over Panem. It meant nothing to those in the districts but a failed attempt at rebellion, but it had resonated something else within the Capitol. Whole schools of students had refused to watch the conclusion of the Games, instead protesting against the way the districts were treated. It was so absurd, that Dew had almost laughed when President Snow told her.
She didn't laugh, however, when half of her team of Gamemakers was executed on the spot for sparking rebellion within the Capitol.
But that was all water under the bridge, and Dew had far more important things to work on, such as Muttations. The only one set in stone was a Mutt that took the form of a tribute's loved one, manipulating them into dying. There were a few other ideas in her head, but she had yet to find convincing ways to implement them into the arena. Sure, a giant spider tearing tributes to shreds would be entertaining, but it wouldn't deliver the message of hopelessness to the districts, even though their reaction to the rebellious actions in the last Games was proof enough that their inner rebels had been crushed brutally. Sighing, Dew returned to the screen, pulling up the file for a toxic mushroom that released deadly spores on contact up, and began to work on it; several adjustments were in order.
Suddenly, light flooded into the room, and Dew shielded her eyes as she adjusted to the change in brightness. It was nearly midnight; who in their right mind would be entering the Gamemakers' chamber? But straight away, the smartly dressed figure in the doorway, with a white rose tucked into his suit, was instantly recognised by Dew. President Coriolanus Snow.
"Good evening, sir," Dew said immediately, without realising she had done it. After all, it was part of her training as a high ranking member of the Games to instantly address the president with boundless respect, "Is there anything I can do for you?"
"Actually, Dew," Snow said softly, but his words had a venomous edge to them. Dew swallowed hard. "There is something I want from you." He paused, reaching into his pocket. He fumbled around for a few moments, before pulling out a neatly folded piece of paper.
"Sir, what is this?" Dew asked, nervously playing with a strand of her deep red hair- the colour of blood- as Snow's snake-like eyes lit up. Even to the hardened Gamemaker, the snake eyes of President Snow instilled fear into her very being.
"This, my dear Gamemaker," Snow said slowly, almost in a patronising tone, as he unfolded the paper, "Is the answer to our problem."
"Which problem?" Dew replied, before clamping a hand over her mouth. Her light brown cheeks went a deep shade of red as she inwardly berated herself. How could she have been so stupid as to ask the president of Panem which problem they were talking about?! Snow was a perfect leader; there were never any problems. In response, Snow shot her a dangerous glare. It only lasted a second, but it was more than enough warning to the young woman.
"The problem that your team of Gamemakers, and a pair of dearly departed District Eight tributes caused." Snow replied coolly, glancing over at the piece of paper in his hands. Reading over something, the president let out an almost sinister chuckle, before handing the piece of paper over to Dew.
As Dew took the paper from President Snow, the leader of Panem cleared his throat, before continuing to speak, "Now, Dew. At first glance, this won't make sense to you," He began, "So I'll give you a bit of background information on the project."
"Okay, sir." Dew replied curtly, to which Snow nodded.
"So," Snow said, slowly pacing around the room, his feet making no sound against the polished hard floor, "As you are aware, the purpose of the Hunger Games is to simultaneously destroy hopes of rebellion in the districts, and entertain the citizens of the Capitol." Dew nodded confidently.
"It was such an inventive and original method of controlling the masses, sir." She said to him, to which Snow lightly shook his head.
"The truth is," Snow began, coughing into a handkerchief, "That the idea for the Games actually originated from the old world, from a country long forgotten by name." Dew's large blue eyes widened. Could that really be true? But the Games seemed like such a modern invention, that she had a hard time wrapping her genius head around it. But it raised yet another question; why would anyone else need the Hunger Games?
Dew was suddenly aware of a chill in the room, and looked at the wide open door, a faint glow from a light further down the hallway outside barely illuminating it a dull yellow. Something felt wrong about this whole situation, but she had no idea what it was. She glanced back at Snow, who was looking at her with a steely glare.
"Sorry," She said apologetically, "But what do you mean by that?"
"Ah, I thought that you would ask that," Snow began, a faint smile growing on his wide lips. Dew nervously swallowed, and wiped a thin layer of sweat from her forehead. "You see, this old world country was in a time of mild crisis; the youth population had completely defied the government, leaving the country's future unstable." He paused, wiping his lips with the handkerchief again, "So the top ranking officials came up with a solution to the problem, in what was perhaps the most controversial aspect of the old world." A grim smirk appeared on Snow's face once more, and Dew nodded. Everything about this was foreboding, but at the same time, she felt anticipation of what he would say next in such a calm manner.
"What was its name, sir?" Dew asked anxiously, her heart rate increasing. But she tried to ignore it; she had to remain calm.
"Battle Royale," Snow replied sharply, the words chilling Dew to the core. It sounded completely foreign, but at the same time, she knew that it was something fear-inducing.
But obviously, whatever this 'Battle Royale' was, it had something to do with solving the problem of the Capitol's youth population's rebellious thoughts.
"So, this Battle Royale, sir," Dew began, looking right into Snow's piercing eyes, "What does it entail?"
"I'll read from the old world law that passed it," Snow said, pulling out another neatly folded piece of paper. After unfolding this one, instead of handing it to Dew, he began to read from it, "In accordance with the Millennial Reform Act," He began, each word sounding cold and calculating, but powerfully vicious, "The BR, or Battle Royale, Program will serve the purpose of reforming the nation's youth." Dew listened intently, ignoring the anxiety that was building with every word. "This will be achieved by a single method; to randomly select a class of students, and send them to fight to the death in which a sole survivor will remain." Dew stiffened up. It sounded similar to the Hunger Games, but on a much more sinister level. A whole class of students killing each other? The mere thought of that sent a chill through her spine. Sure, the Games were similar, but you only really knew one person, so the emphasis was on your own survival, not killing off a friend.
"Sir," Dew began, aware of how loud her breathing was, "That does sound similar to the Games, but how will we use this, exactly?" She had an idea, but she wanted Snow to confirm it for her.
"We have already selected a class," Snow said calmly, a complete contrast to Dew, "And we will broadcast the entire spectacle to every household in the Capitol."
"Why not the districts, as well?" Dew asked without realising. She had been asking a lot of questions, but it was only natural for such a thing as this.
"Because, Dew," Snow replied, looking at her directly, causing the young Gamemaker to involuntarily shudder, "This is a matter within the Capitol. Word of this getting out would not be beneficial to the well being of the rebellious district citizens." Snow paused, looking at one of the monitors, which flashed with the image of a computer rendered ocean, "And this will be a one time operation, Dew, since the citizens of the Capitol aren't as stubborn as the districts. Watching their own turn on one another will be more than enough to quell the embers of rebellion."
Dew nodded in response. The last thing they needed was rebellion within the walls of the Capitol.
"But sir," She began to say, "How will we do this, exactly?"
"We will send the students to one of the old arenas, under the guise of a study trip, and send them out from a hovercraft placed near the Cornucopia." Snow explained, glancing at his wristwatch. It was rather elegant, with tiny little diamonds embedded into the strap, each carved into the shape of a rose.
"Any arenas in mind, sir?" Dew asked curiously, letting out a slight yawn.
"Actually, I do," Snow said, a malicious gleam in his eyes, "We're going to send these children to a fan-favourite of ours. Do you remember your very first arena?" Straight away, Dew's eyes lit up.
"Yes, sir, I do," She replied eagerly, "The sixty sixth annual Hunger Games, am I correct?"
"Indeed you are, Dew." Snow said, a dark chuckle escaping his lips, before he turned away from Dew. "I have to retreat to my mansion for the evening, so I'll leave this in your hands, Dew; do not disappoint me."
As the president of Panem walked out of the door, leaving the large room, Dew stood where she was, clutching the paper in her hand. Looking around to ensure that nobody was watching her, she walked over to the nearest desk, and unfolded the paper, reading over every last detail.
Battle Royale: Survival Program
Modified by Coriolanus Snow II
The Battle Royale, affectionately known as the 'Program', is a survival program designed to deter rebellious behaviour from the youth population. It is done by selecting a class of students randomly, and forcing them to fight to the death until a lone survivor remains.
However, unlike the familiar Hunger Games, the Battle Royale has more rules to follow. Each participant shall receive a tracking collar (Model PN-001) to monitor their activities and vital signs. The key feature of the tracking collar is that each one is fitted with the same level of explosives seen in the launch pads at the Cornucopia in the Hunger Games. These collars can be remotely detonated by the overseers of the Program. In addition, the collars will also detonate if a participant attempts to remove it from their necks. The collars will be disabled at the end of the Program.
As well as this, the Program also has a time limit of 72 hours, and if more than one participant is alive at the end of this time period, all collars will be detonated, and there will be no winner. This will also happen if 24 hours pass with zero deaths. In addition to this, the collars can also be detonated if the participant walks into a danger zone- a restricted area of the playing field, which increases in size every hour. The new danger zones will be announced every six hours, according with the announcements.
The announcements will occur daily at 06:00, 12:00, 18:00, and 00:00, and will announce which participants died, in order of death. This is done to remind the participants of who is still alive on a regular basis.
The participants will be given supplies for the duration of the Program- a large duffel bag with three days' worth of food and water rations, a map of the playing field marked with zone squares and a pencil, a list of the participants, and a randomly assigned weapon. This will be a mixture of old world weapons, weapons commonly seen in the Hunger Games, and a few novelty items for the unlucky. The participants will receive this equipment as they depart from the starting point, as well as receive the tracking collars. The participants will leave the starting point in alphabetical order, in a male-female fashion at two minute intervals. After this, the participants will be left to their own devices for the three days, and will not be able to contact the outside world until the winner emerges, and is treated for their wounds.
The winner shall receive lifetime compensation, and counselling sessions to be reinstated into society once more. The winner will also have the privilege of being granted the offer of the highest status occupations, once they are capable of safely functioning in a social environment.
The list of participants for the Battle Royale Program (Class 10-E, Mixed status high school):
#1 Nero Antonius
#2 Felix Bellicianus
#3 Marius Drusus
#4 Rufus Favonius
#5 Dexter Fidus
#6 Macro Honorius
#7 Maximus 'Max' Hosidius
#8 Castus Libo
#9 Geta Oppius
#10 Donatus 'Don' Platorius
#11 Super Pupius
#12 Verus Septimius
#13 Petra Tadius
#14 Victor Thoranius
#15 Noricus Volteius
#1 Urbana Aelius
#2 Lalla Ammonius
#3 Julia Caelius
#4 Arria Cassius
#5 Sulpicia Eprius
#6 Claudia Ingenuius
#7 Italia Minicius
#8 Lyris 'Lyra' Octavius
#9 Olympia Petillius
#10 Musa Pomponius
#11 Irene Pupius
#12 Rufinus 'Red' Roscius
#13 Quarta Sallustius
#14 Epria Terentius
#15 Posilla 'Posy' Tuccius
Dew grinned at this, despite the nature of it. It was essentially another Hunger Games, only in familiar territory, in which she had even more control over the events. She quickly turned on the nearest computer, and loaded up the control files for the 66th arena. There were several modifications that were in order for this to truly destroy any rebellious thoughts; the odds were not going to be in anyone's favour this time around.