The Hunger Games: Multi-Verse

Scores (Natasha Romanoff)

Late at night in the Marvel floor, the tributes, mentors, and stylists were crowding the living room with their eyes glued to the television screen. Claudius Templesmith and Caesar Flickerman looked back out at them, talking rapidly and charismatically about the various tributes so far before revealing the training scores. 

Natasha was biting her fingernails. Her mentor had told her how many other factors in the Games these scores affected. Her first sponsors would be basically locked in by these scores, and her first impression would be set for all watching and participating in the Games. 

She sat nervously between Clint and Peter on the couch. Killmonger sat in the chair to their left, and the Capitol people were getting buzzed on champagne without a worry in the world. They were only excited for the upcoming events. None of their lives were on the line.

The Marvel scores were the last ones released out of all of them. The lowest scores were for the Tusken Raider from Star Wars, Paylor from Panem, Nymphadora from the Magic community, and Annabeth the demi-god. Some of the highest scores were awarded to Demetri from Twilight, Nico DiAngelo the demi-god, James Potter the wizard, and Kylo Ren from Star Wars. 

Finally the program advanced onto Marvel's scores. 

"First up Clint Barton, also known as Hawkeye!" 

Clint's face flashed across the screen, and the number nine popped up near his name. The stylists began rambunctiously cheering and clapping him on the back. Clint let a modest smile go. Natasha tried to smile and congratulate him, but she was so nervous she couldn't turn her lips upwards. 

Natasha couldn't believe the Games were affecting her to this extent. She had planned on being the cool, collected, unworried woman that she usually was. But this was different, somehow. 

She had never had to kill real people in order to win the fight. She had never had to prove herself to anyone in order to do well. She had been in life-threatening situations, but there was always the option to run away or drop out -- she would've never taken that option in a real fight, but obviously if she could opt out of the Games she would've. The situations she had come upon on Earth could be evil and cruel, but the Hunger Games was on a whole other level of sickness. In this instance, the fighting was for the entertainment of others, not for the salvation or betterment of Earth.

"Next is Erik Killmonger, also known as King Killmonger!" 

Killmonger's tense and tough face flew onto the screen, accompanied by an eight. He got impressed nods and a few handshakes. 

"Peter Parker, also known as Spider-man!" 

Peter earned himself a perfect twelve.

The room went wild with congratulations. The Gamemakers must have loved Peter's moves, his skills, his personality, his looks. The buzzed stylists were hugging him, yelling, a champagne bottle was being popped, Killmonger had just left the room, and the only ones still watching the television avidly were Natasha and Clint. 

Natasha watched her face appear, but the mentors were too busy and loud celebrating Peter that she didn't even hear her name announce. But she did see the five appear next to her name. 

A sinking, crumbling sensation was strong in her chest as Clint immediately placed a hand on her back and comfortingly rubbed. 

The mentors were now pouring champagne into thin glasses for everyone, forcing them into everyone's hands. Clint and Natasha both accepted theirs but took no drinks. 

"We'll make it work, Natasha. It'll be okay."

But she wasn't so sure.

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