As much as he wasn't fond of the concept of being forced into a death trap and dying in various spectacular ways over and over for a bunch of strangers to cheer about, it was better than all out war against those who could barely fight back - and won't come back. The arenas were a spectator sport, and they had to bring the tributes back so the sport could continue. But this? There's no coming back from this, not from bombs and snipers and Capitol soldiers taking out everyone in their paths.
But as dire and awful as the situation is, it's one he can help in. In the arenas (the only one he was in,) the most he could do was find a halfway decent hiding spot and hope no one found him. Here, there's people who need help, innocent people - innocent children. Nothing gets to him quite like screaming children.
He can't really call it a house. It's barely a shack. One of the bombs had gone off nearby and sent debris flying everywhere, and a large chunk of something had crashed into the roof of the small, downtrodden building and nearly collapsed it. It's barely being held up on it's supports, but it's the screaming and crying from younger children inside that lead him to the scene, admist all the chaos. A few of them had made it out, but others were trapped inside, and the small gap they were escaping from was closing in fast.
Jeremy hurried over to try and help, holding up the archway as best he could to help the other trapped kids crawl out. He tries his best to be reassuring to the scared children, telling them to stay close and he'll help them all get to safety - other tributes and rebels were helping to evacuate people, they knew the right way to go. But he knows he can't hold up the crumbling ledge for very long.
"Hey! S-Someone, we-- we need h-help here!" he calls out desperately, because damn it, he's got to save these kids. But can anyone else hear him over all the chaos?
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As much as he wasn't fond of the concept of being forced into a death trap and dying in various spectacular ways over and over for a bunch of strangers to cheer about, it was better than all out war against those who could barely fight back - and won't come back. The arenas were a spectator sport, and they had to bring the tributes back so the sport could continue. But this? There's no coming back from this, not from bombs and snipers and Capitol soldiers taking out everyone in their paths.
But as dire and awful as the situation is, it's one he can help in. In the arenas (the only one he was in,) the most he could do was find a halfway decent hiding spot and hope no one found him. Here, there's people who need help, innocent people - innocent children. Nothing gets to him quite like screaming children.
He can't really call it a house. It's barely a shack. One of the bombs had gone off nearby and sent debris flying everywhere, and a large chunk of something had crashed into the roof of the small, downtrodden building and nearly collapsed it. It's barely being held up on it's supports, but it's the screaming and crying from younger children inside that lead him to the scene, admist all the chaos. A few of them had made it out, but others were trapped inside, and the small gap they were escaping from was closing in fast.
Jeremy hurried over to try and help, holding up the archway as best he could to help the other trapped kids crawl out. He tries his best to be reassuring to the scared children, telling them to stay close and he'll help them all get to safety - other tributes and rebels were helping to evacuate people, they knew the right way to go. But he knows he can't hold up the crumbling ledge for very long.
"Hey! S-Someone, we-- we need h-help here!" he calls out desperately, because damn it, he's got to save these kids. But can anyone else hear him over all the chaos?