RIBS, the hunger games

interlude, the blonde lockwood

"She looks so..."

"Cute? Adorable? Beautiful?"

"I was going to say she looks like a sack of potatoes," the six-year-old boy muttered under his breath, receiving a soft smack on the back of his head from his older sister.

Felix and Cordelia's mother were currently sleeping, leaving the six-year-old and nine-year-old to look after the newborn.

"You know you looked even worse when you were younger. You looked like Mr Puggles," huffed Cordelia.

"You probably looked like Mr Puggles!"

"No, you looked more like him!"

"No, you looked more like him!"

"No, you did!"

"NO—"

Their back-and-forth arguing only stopped as the baby started crying loudly, drowning out the rest of Felix's retort. Cordelia started pacing, their new sister in her arms as she bounced her up and down, trying to stop the seemingly never-ending tears that streamed down.

"Please, please, please stop crying." Cordelia continued to pace while Felix covered his ears.

"I think she pooped," he commented once he sniffed the air.

"Oh god," bemoaned Cordelia as she placed the still crying, and stinky, baby down on the changing mat.

Cordelia's movements of changing the baby's diaper were swift and careful, while Felix was her helper who had the dreadful job of throwing the soiled diaper away.

"Ew, ew, ew." He held the bag that held the diaper as far away from his body as he could as if it were a bomb about to go off.

"JACOB! GET OUT!"

The baby started crying again and Cordelia sighed, running a hand through her hand as she handed the newborn to her brother, "I'll deal with mum, you deal with her."

Felix nodded and he started playing with the baby. A tuft of blonde hair was on her hair, and she looked up at her brother with big blue eyes. She looked like their late father— the only of the three siblings to look like the man. His sister's appearance set off their mother, who still had night terrors of her husband being blown to bits within the district mines. She hadn't even been able to name the girl when she had seen her blue eyes, only crying for her husband.

Cordelia and Felix were left to name her, and they hadn't figured one out yet. They had figured out a middle name, Imogene, after their grandmother they had only ever seen in photos.

"Hello there," he mumbled, smiling when his sister gurgled and reached up with her little fingers.

"My name is Felix, I hope you'd know that already though. I'm your big brother," he whispered, "And I want you to know that I'll protect you, always. From anyone who tries to bully you, I'll beat their skinny buttholes until they know to never mess with you again."

Though he was still young, Felix knew very well about the Hunger Games. In fact, Cordelia's name would start being submitted in three years, six for Felix. And he couldn't even think of a world where Cordelia was chosen. The very thought made him sick to his stomach. But from the moment she was born, the blonde Lockwood had a timer begin. Counting down until she would turn twelve and be legible to participate in the games.

The noise of struggling and shouting coming from their mother's room eventually stopped and Cordelia returned to the living room.

"I think I have a name for her..." he said, looking up at his older sister.

"Yeah? What?" Cordelia rubbed her eyes, yawning. At nine years old, she not only had to look after Felix, but her mentally-ill mother and newborn sister. Of course, she'd be exhausted.

"Ethel." He shrugged, "She was the princess warrior in a story Mrs Feld read yesterday...had the blonde hair and blue eyes too..."

Cordelia paused, taking the girl from Felix, and examining her face. She laughed when the girl found interest in her hair, and the baby would've stuffed it into her mouth if Cordelia had not stopped her.

"Yeah, Ethel works," she said, misty-eyed, "Hello little Ethel, you've finally got a name!"

They sat there, huddled on the couch. Cordelia wearing one of her mother's blouses and pants that tightly fit around her legs, Felix wearing a shirt four sizes too big, so much so that he had to roll up his sleeves multiple times to even use his hands properly, little Ethel wearing the old baby clothes passed down from Felix, who got them from Cordelia, who got them from Greasy Sae after her daughter outgrew them. Their home fell into slight filth as either child was too short to clean every nook and cranny, their mother a living zombie.

"I told Ethel I'd protect her..." Felix said to fill the silence.

"Good...that's good," nodded Cordelia, "We both will, and I will protect you, and sweet Ethel will love us both, and..and tell her friends stories of her amazing sister and funny brother. I know so,"

"We've completed the trio," he brought up, continuing when Cordelia glanced at him with confusion, "I'm the queen, you're the king, and Ethel's the badass princess warrior!"

"Princess warrior Ethel...much better than Mikey,"

"Oh shut up. Mikey is better than Apple,"

"But Ethel is a name fit for a badass princess warrior,"

Felix nodded, smiling down at his newly named sister. And there was his family, his sisters. It was the three of them against the world.

He was the queen, the dramatic, loud, and sarcastic middle sibling. You would never find Felix without his grin, a rude joke falling from his lips as he wanted everyone to smile, to laugh.

Cordelia was the king, the soft yet strict oldest sibling. She would follow her brother, and now sister, to the end of the world wholeheartedly.

And the youngest Lockwood. Ethel. The appointed princess warrior after a character in a children's book. She would grow up, with two older siblings looking out for her no matter what. She was their new beginning. Their treasure they would protect in the harsh, cruel world.

But little did they know that not all of them would make it in the world...