Introduction
Information:
The Capitol
Style and fashion are very important to the aristocratic citizens of the Capitol. It is common for them to tattoo and dye their bodies, as well as undergo plastic surgery to alter their appearances. Some are whiskers, dyed skin, talons, and more outrageous fashions not mentioned. Some people of the Capitol also have gems implanted in their skin. Capitol residents also frequently wear wigs in a multitude of colors. The other districts think the people from the Capitol are different and odd. In order to have a good time at a party and eat as much as they want, Capitol residents drink a special liquid (like ipecac), that causes them to vomit, thus providing room for more food. The residents seem almost oblivious to the fact that, although they go through lots of food and still have plenty left over, many of the district's residents are starving. The food Capitol residents eat is extremely rich.
The people who live in the Capitol speak with strange accents; their voices are high pitched, their jaws barely open when talking, and the ends of their sentences going up as if they're asking a question. They have odd vowels, clipped words, and tend to hiss the letter "s."
President Snow
Reaping
Every year, each district holds a reaping ceremony. Two large glass balls contain slips of paper with each child's first and last name. A child's name is entered each year for every year that they are eligible. The entries are cumulative, and each year another slip is added to the glass ball for the child's aging. Ex: At age 12 one slip has their name, at 13 two slips are added, and so on. By the time each child is 18, they must have a minimum of 7 entries in the glass ball. However, they can choose to add their name more times in exchange for tessera, which is a small ration of oil and grain. Each tessera has enough oil and grain to supply one family member with food for one year.
The district's representative/escort picks a name out of the balls, one of which is for girls and one for boys. The tributes whose names are chosen are then entered into the Games, unless someone is willing to volunteer - a normally quite rare phenomenon unless it is in one of the "Career Districts" (1, 2, and 4), districts in which children have been training their whole lives to enter the Games.
When a victor comes home, they are no longer be eligible to participate in the Games even if they are still young enough to have their name drawn in the reaping. The exception to this rule is the Quarter Quell. The reaping ceremony is also treated like a celebration to all districts. The children dress up and sometimes given gifts to each other. They also tend to celebrate after the reaping is over, except of course for the children who are chosen who are busy saying their goodbyes.
Reaping Day
Mentoring
Each living victor from each district is given the task of mentoring the next tributes for the Games. If there is only one living victor, he/she will be mentor for both tributes. Any living victor is invited to the Capitol to come alongside the tributes and to watch the Games live. Mentors are expected to come in order to sort out the complications of sponsors and sending the gifts into the arena.
Tokens
Each tribute is allowed one token from their district, to represent and remind them of home. They must not be able to be used as weapons. They are very carefully examined and checked for any hidden triggers.
Sponsors
As tributes battle in the arena, quite often they can become helpless. This is simply because of the Cornucopia bloodbath since the tributes are fighting over the items they need to win the Hunger Games. Many of the tributes are left with limited or no items they wanted from the Cornucopia. Wealthy viewers or groups of people can pool their funds and send items into the arena should a tribute need something, such as food, shelter, weapons, or medicine.
Bloodbaths
The bloodbath is what starts the excitement in the Games. On average, roughly half of the tributes die at the initial battle that takes place at the Cornucopia, near the starting point of the games. Spilling from the Cornucopia and strewn on the ground among the tributes are various items including weapons, food, water, and other supplies. Some tributes venture into the opening scramble for these valuable items, while others use it as part of their strategy for slaughter.
Feasts
If the Gamemakers feel that there has not been enough bloodshed recently, they will invite all of the tributes to the Cornucopia for a feast. Normally this feast features something desirable to the tributes, like food, armor, medicine, etc. so they will be more likely to go. Some still choose not to because these feasts usually result in a bloodbath. Attendance is not mandatory.
Gamemakers
The Gamemakers design and control The Hunger Games. They design the arena, the outfits, and a number of the deaths. From the tiniest detail to the biggest bloodbath, the Gamemakers are in charge of entertaining the Capitol to the fullest. A dry and boring Hunger Games means that the head Gamemaker's life is in peril. A bloody and fantastic Games that keeps the crowd on the edge of their seats brings the Gamemakers fame and fortune.
Training Center
The Training Center is a skyscraper located in the Capitol where the tributes live and train in preparation for the Hunger Games. Their mentor, escort, stylist, and prep team stay with them during this time. The tributes will have individual training sessions in the end, and be evaluated with a score of 1 through 10 by the gamemakers. This will prove a prediction of how long they can stay alive.
Interviews
The night before the start of each Hunger Games, there is an interview with each of the tributes. Such as, their life back home, time in the Capitol so far, training scores, and the Reaping. It is is noted to try to help all the tributes through their interview. The interviews are in order of districts with the female preceding the male tribute. Each interview is alloted three minutes per tribute. The main purpose of the interviews is to show the rest of the Capitol a little about each tribute to help them choose their favorite. There is always an interview with the tributes before each Hunger Games, and another with the victor after the Games are over.
Stylists
A stylist is a key member of a tribute's team along with their mentor and escort. Although they do not join the team until the tributes arrive in the Capitol, stylists play a key role in preparing the tributes for the Hunger Games as they are responsible for their public image. They create the entire wardrobe of the Tributes during their stay in the Captiol prior to the Games. This makes a stylist the most publicly known and visible member of the tribute's team and many of them are familiar to the viewers as they have worked with multiple tributes.
Chariot Rides
When entering the training center, tributes were required to enter via chariot rides that would show the audience what to expect from the districts' tributes. The chariots would be decorated according to which district they belonged and the district's industry. Most of the time the audience would cheer for what they liked and do nothing for things they did not. The chariot rides were very important because it was a chance for the tributes to make an impression and gain sponsors.
Cornucopia
The Cornucopia is giant, golden (silver) horn shaped like a cone with a curved tail. In each year's Hunger Games, the tributes launch into the arena and start off in a circular formation, equidistant to the Cornucopia. Its mouth is at least 20 feet high and is filled with items that could help the tributes survive in the Games such as weapons, clothing, fire starters, supplies, containers, water, food, blankets, and medicine. The closer an object is to the Cornucopia, the more valuable it is. In an unidentified Hunger Games, the Cornucopia was filled with only spiked maces with which the tributes had to bludgeon each other to death with. However, both forms of media have this in common: the Cornucopia is the death of many tributes due to the large amount of desirable items.
[/quote]TRIBUTES
(We can't have everyone leaving in the bloodbath! This is why I have created limited spots. The tributes not listed, will die in the games from your cause, or natural causes.)
District 1
District 1 is one of the wealthiest districts of Panem. Its primary industry is manufacturing luxury items for the Capitol. Some of them include diamonds and most likely other precious gems. It seems that parents name their children after the names of precious items and their attributes, which may be a reflection on their "glamorous" nature. Children in District 1 almost always seem to take pride in competing in the Games, and are among the group of tributes that band together to pick off the weak, called the Careers.
District 1 Female- OPEN
District 1 Male- OPEN
District 4
District 4 is one of the wealthier districts of Panem. Its industry is fishing, which is useful for tributes in the Games as they have experience in using nets and tridents, making fishhooks from scratch, swimming, and identifying edible sea life. Being one of the wealthier districts, District 4 tends to produce Career Tributes who volunteer to participate in The Hunger Games. This is also the case for Districts 1 and 2. These children are raised to win the Games, making them stronger and much more capable of winning than the average tribute.
District 4 Female- TAKEN
District 4 Male- OPEN
District 12
District 12 is the poorest district in the nation of Panem.
Located in the mountains, and with a population of around 8,000 people, District 12 specializes in coal mining. Some jobs include Coal miner, Geologist, Blaster, Surveyor and, Metallurgist.
Located in the mountains, and with a population of around 8,000 people, District 12 specializes in coal mining. Some jobs include Coal miner, Geologist, Blaster, Surveyor and, Metallurgist.
District 12 Female- OPEN
District 12 Male- OPEN
CHARACTER SHEET (Change it up how you'd like, just keep the required information listed below.)
- Code: Select all
[center][font=PICK ONE][size=220][u]Name here[/u][/size]
[img]picture%20or%20gif%20or%20something%20of%20your%20face%20claim ONLY HUMAN PICTURES, NO anime please.[/img]
(Put a quote that describes your character here, without the parentheses optional)
[size=160][u]The Basics[/u][/size]
[b]District:[/b]
[b]Full Name[/b]:
[b]Age[/b]: 12-18
[b]Birthdate[/b]:
[b]Gender[/b]:
[b]Height[/b]:
[b]Weight[/b]:
[size=160][u]Personality[/u][/size] (Please, 2 paragraphs or more. Here type a small paragraph (and that does not mean one line) about your character's personality, how they interact with others, their general behavior, any quirks they have, that kind of thing, and make sure to give your character some traits and characteristics- not optional)
[b]Hobby[/b]:
[size=160][u]History[/u][/size] (Please, 2 paragraphs or more.)
[b]Code:[/b] Read the rules...-_-"
[b]Preferred weapon/ Skills:[/b]
[b]Likes:[/b]
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-
-
-
- (At least five, explaining each one in a sentance)
[b]Dislikes:[/b]
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-
-
-
- (At least five, explaining each one in a sentance)
[b]Other:[/b]
[b]Writing Sample: [/b](One paragraph, please.)[/font][/center]
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The Story So Far... Write a Post » as written by 8 authors
"Nicholas White!" Clattice actually had to look to see the boy's face. He was older than her, but also quiet. She didn't know him very well. He was scared, just has Clattice was. The Capitol lady presented them to their District one more time before Peacekeepers dragged them to separate rooms. This was where they would see any family members for the last time. Kia and Brine came in, still crying slightly from earlier. Clattice still held the bunny from before. The twins didn't say much. Brine just looked around the room while Kia stared at Clattice. "I love you both, remember that." Clattice gave them one more hug before they were dragged out. Clattice was then transferred to the train, where she met her "helpers".
She silently sat in a seat. None of the others talked either. Nick entered shortly after her. Clattice waved, but still didn't say anything. "Now that everyone's here," said the spokeswoman from earlier. Her name escaped Clattice's memories at the moment. "This is your mentor, Kish Jakenberg." Kish scared Clattice, he had deep, orangish scars covering the left side of his face. Kish's dark eyes (it was impossible to tell the color exactly) also looked...distant. Clattice looked over at Nick. The kid still looked scared, with good reason. "Hey, it'll be okay..." Clattice whispered to him in the same voice she used with her younger siblings: kind and soothing.
She silently sat in a seat. None of the others talked either. Nick entered shortly after her. Clattice waved, but still didn't say anything. "Now that everyone's here," said the spokeswoman from earlier. Her name escaped Clattice's memories at the moment. "This is your mentor, Kish Jakenberg." Kish scared Clattice, he had deep, orangish scars covering the left side of his face. Kish's dark eyes (it was impossible to tell the color exactly) also looked...distant. Clattice looked over at Nick. The kid still looked scared, with good reason. "Hey, it'll be okay..." Clattice whispered to him in the same voice she used with her younger siblings: kind and soothing.
As Nick entered the carriage, the first thing he saw was a small blonde girl, sat un-moving on one of the many seats. She waved somewhat uneasily when she saw him, and so he gave her an equally uneasy smile in return.
He looked around the rest of the carriage, to see a few "helpers", whom he assumed would be prepping them for their ordeal, and of course, Kish Jakenberg. Famous in Four for winning the games. His eyes still seemed as cold and harsh as they always had. Nick couldn't help but think, in a few months, he would either be dead, or as cold and destroyed as Kish. He wasn't sure which outcome he preferred. Nick took a seat near the girl, wary that he shouldnt try to befriend her. She was probably afraid of him, anyway. He was competition, after all.
"Hey... It'll be okay" He heard her say. For a moment, he locked eyes with her, and gave her a tiny nod. He didn't know what to say.
What could he say to that? 'no it wont' ? 'we might die!' ? ' we WILL die!' ? No. There was no correct response. He was certain of it.
The capitol woman introduced us to Kish, who still sat in complete silence.
Nick cleared his throat. And spoke up.
"So..." He began, his voice quivering slightly. "What's next?" He asked.
The capitol woman rolled her eyes slightly, and gave a slight chuckle. She opened her mouth, as if to begin to speak, but Kish cut her off, with his icy voice.
"Next. You eat. " He said, gesturing to the delicious looking food on the table in front of them. "And then, we must get you ready. Your chariot awaits you, at the Capitol."
-------------------
The next hour sped by, as the train sped onwards, and everyone ate. The helpers and the capitol woman spoke idly about things like our outfits, and the "fishing" theme they wanted to deploy.
Of course. We were from Four. We were both lowly fisherman. And nothing else.
Nick winced slightly, as Kish dropped his knife to his plate with a loud shatter, which broke the quiet atmosphere. He was staring out of the window over Nicks shoulder.
Without missing a beat, Nick twisted himself in his seat, and felt the air get sucked out of him lungs. Looming ever closer was the grand city of the Capitol. Its buildings reaching high in the sky, it's lights bright and powerful. It was, in it's own way, both beautiful and mysterious. And most likely the place Nick would die. He looked over to the girl. who's name he had learned was Clattice. She looked younger than him. And innocent. Her eyes, too, were lit up at the sight of the Capitol.
For the first time, Nick felt a pang of emotion. It was so sad that they would probably both die here. That neither of them would ever get a chance to know one another. That two people should ever have to meet in such a scenario as this.
"Come on, Fisherman." One of the helpers said, "We have to get you ready."
He looked around the rest of the carriage, to see a few "helpers", whom he assumed would be prepping them for their ordeal, and of course, Kish Jakenberg. Famous in Four for winning the games. His eyes still seemed as cold and harsh as they always had. Nick couldn't help but think, in a few months, he would either be dead, or as cold and destroyed as Kish. He wasn't sure which outcome he preferred. Nick took a seat near the girl, wary that he shouldnt try to befriend her. She was probably afraid of him, anyway. He was competition, after all.
"Hey... It'll be okay" He heard her say. For a moment, he locked eyes with her, and gave her a tiny nod. He didn't know what to say.
What could he say to that? 'no it wont' ? 'we might die!' ? ' we WILL die!' ? No. There was no correct response. He was certain of it.
The capitol woman introduced us to Kish, who still sat in complete silence.
Nick cleared his throat. And spoke up.
"So..." He began, his voice quivering slightly. "What's next?" He asked.
The capitol woman rolled her eyes slightly, and gave a slight chuckle. She opened her mouth, as if to begin to speak, but Kish cut her off, with his icy voice.
"Next. You eat. " He said, gesturing to the delicious looking food on the table in front of them. "And then, we must get you ready. Your chariot awaits you, at the Capitol."
-------------------
The next hour sped by, as the train sped onwards, and everyone ate. The helpers and the capitol woman spoke idly about things like our outfits, and the "fishing" theme they wanted to deploy.
Of course. We were from Four. We were both lowly fisherman. And nothing else.
Nick winced slightly, as Kish dropped his knife to his plate with a loud shatter, which broke the quiet atmosphere. He was staring out of the window over Nicks shoulder.
Without missing a beat, Nick twisted himself in his seat, and felt the air get sucked out of him lungs. Looming ever closer was the grand city of the Capitol. Its buildings reaching high in the sky, it's lights bright and powerful. It was, in it's own way, both beautiful and mysterious. And most likely the place Nick would die. He looked over to the girl. who's name he had learned was Clattice. She looked younger than him. And innocent. Her eyes, too, were lit up at the sight of the Capitol.
For the first time, Nick felt a pang of emotion. It was so sad that they would probably both die here. That neither of them would ever get a chance to know one another. That two people should ever have to meet in such a scenario as this.
"Come on, Fisherman." One of the helpers said, "We have to get you ready."
They were back behind the doors, away from the screaming crowd. Avalons energetic stylist was thrilled with their performance and even Ostro gave a sly nod of approval. Slade seemed impressed too, his calculating mind ticking over. But despite it all, Vit felt wrong. Like he had betrayed his mother, like he had fallen into the Capitols trap. An angry scowl contorted his face, but it wasn't anyone around him that triggered it, but his own growing hatred of himself. The Capitol was already winning. But then he looked to Avalon, she seemed so innocent, she didn't deserve to die and Vit decided, she didn't have to. If that was something he could do to destroy some of the Capitols control in the Games, then he would do everything in his power to keep her alive.
She was strong, she would be able to survive. On the chariot ride, she had stood tall, rising to the occasion and that is what proved to Vit that she could be the Victor. He looked down at her, his features softening slightly and noticed that she was staring off into the distance. He followed her gaze and noticed the cause of her distraction. The arrogance oozed off the boy, from his get up it was clear that he was the District 2 tribute. He looked like the perfect psychopath, exactly the person that Vit needed to protect Avalon from. He felt her lean against him, urging them to leave. The others turned in his direction, saw the malicious glare and began to move in the direction of the elevators that would take them back up to the sanctuary of their room.
Back upstairs the others were still chattering about their amazing display, but Vit felt sick to the core and couldn't bear hearing any more. Everyone headed straight to the dinning table that was beautifully laden with food in celebration. Vit followed slowly behind and as everyone took his seat he stood, looking into the distance, a sudden need to be alone overwhelming him. He dashed away and as Monsharia protested he called over his shoulder.
"Not hungry."
He slammed the door of his room, anger fuelling him, causing him to shake. The Games were destroying him, like a helpless doll in the hands of a cruel child, they were pulling him apart. He was like an erupting volcano, the fury welling up inside of him, ready to explode. He stormed over to the beside where his mothers embroidery was delicately placed. With blurry sight he gently picked up the stitched phoenix. Why him? Why had his mother died? Why had his father abused him so? Why had he been chosen? So many terrible things and now he was being offered a chance for his death to be shown for all to see. He was lost in the darkness, being beaten from all sides and there was no escape. But he did have a purpose. Avalon. She didn't deserve to die, he on the other hand did. There was nothing left for him.
She was strong, she would be able to survive. On the chariot ride, she had stood tall, rising to the occasion and that is what proved to Vit that she could be the Victor. He looked down at her, his features softening slightly and noticed that she was staring off into the distance. He followed her gaze and noticed the cause of her distraction. The arrogance oozed off the boy, from his get up it was clear that he was the District 2 tribute. He looked like the perfect psychopath, exactly the person that Vit needed to protect Avalon from. He felt her lean against him, urging them to leave. The others turned in his direction, saw the malicious glare and began to move in the direction of the elevators that would take them back up to the sanctuary of their room.
Back upstairs the others were still chattering about their amazing display, but Vit felt sick to the core and couldn't bear hearing any more. Everyone headed straight to the dinning table that was beautifully laden with food in celebration. Vit followed slowly behind and as everyone took his seat he stood, looking into the distance, a sudden need to be alone overwhelming him. He dashed away and as Monsharia protested he called over his shoulder.
"Not hungry."
He slammed the door of his room, anger fuelling him, causing him to shake. The Games were destroying him, like a helpless doll in the hands of a cruel child, they were pulling him apart. He was like an erupting volcano, the fury welling up inside of him, ready to explode. He stormed over to the beside where his mothers embroidery was delicately placed. With blurry sight he gently picked up the stitched phoenix. Why him? Why had his mother died? Why had his father abused him so? Why had he been chosen? So many terrible things and now he was being offered a chance for his death to be shown for all to see. He was lost in the darkness, being beaten from all sides and there was no escape. But he did have a purpose. Avalon. She didn't deserve to die, he on the other hand did. There was nothing left for him.
Avalon Shire
Step after step. She had witnessed everything set into its place, falling in love with the Capitol's trap, playing their games, the distress she had felt before began to encroach over her body again. The alarm she had been experiencing followed her everyday, morning and night, day after day, beginning when her name flourished out of Monsharia's throat. Her breath became quick, faster and faster before each short moment. Avalon noticed she would never be able to process what was happening in her simple life.
Simple wasn't a word anymore. What was simple? Avalon didn't even know.
Confusion, terror, fear, hatred, love. The expressions that filled her mind throughout the moments that passed her with a violent embrace. The lump in her throat became larger, now blocking her breathing. Will it ever stop? She paused in her thoughts. No. Avalon was falling, falling into a distance of reality. Was reality a skit now? Was Avalon playing the assigned part? What was real...?
"Oh goodness, I can't believe how amazing that was! Avalon and Vittorio, geniuses of time!" Monsharia chirped in her melodic tone, turning towards Slade in a chatter of agreements. Avalon just stood there, staring at her reflection across the elevator's glass doors. The pit in her stomach enlarged, causing an excrutiating pain that furnished inside of her skin. She wanted to scream, the Capitol's disease wouldn't terminate her yet,
though she knew she was breaking.
But there comes you,
to keep me safe from harm.
There comes you,
to take me in your arms.
Avalon's eyes amplified. She heard her mother's voice fill her mind, the sweet rhythm burning like fire in her ears. Her hands tightend, curling each finger into a dense clasp until the pressure burned. She wanted to go home.
"Daddy, where did mommy go?" The child curved her arms around her father's leg, binding her hands to meet each other. The man stared at the mantle, studying the picture intensly with a stern grasp. Avalon was frightened, she had never seen him so serious before. The woman in the frame was truly beautiful, with long bown hair like her daughter's. The child let out a smile, "Daddy, why are you staring at mama's picture like that?"
"Because, Avalon, " He still observed the picture. "She's going away for a while. You're all I have left now."
______________________________________________________________
Over the course of the past few minutes, Avalon had taken an oath to silence. The fork she was now twirling was now being taken in by her mind. The lining of the utensil had green edges with curls that curved to the bottom, and the many circles floating around the fork contained multiple colors. She let out a small sigh to herself. Anything to keep me away from this conversation... She looked up from the polished bread structure that spiraled across her plate. She wasn't in the mood for eating, nor conversation. She propped her elbow against the table, ignoring the once respected manners Monsharia had graciously given her, different from District 8's lucid set of manners. Slade raised his eyebrows towards Avalon with a slight smirk. His hair was not as perfected today, she realized it was probably caused from the stress that encircled the situation. He took the wine glass that sat next to him, and gracefully raised it in the air, still staring at Avalon, and drank. Was he congratulating her? No need for that... She rolled her eyes, looking towards Monsharia, with her now yellow shaded baldness. She went on about how training began tomorrow, and how her "wonderful tributes" would need to be prepared. Avalon couldn't help but overhear her and the obnoxious tone that came along with it her voice, Felica wasn't helping either. Ostro just sat there, eating.
"Vittorio where are you going?-" Monsharia stopped her chatter to watch Vit leave from the celebration.
"Not hungry."
Avalon watched him leave. A pang of sadness whipped through her. She wanted to run to him, take away all of his pain and fill it in her body instead. Her hands slightly gripped the tablecloth, pressing against it.
The door slammed.
Somehow, Vittorio made Avalon feel safe. He filled her with comfort, lead her to a place where District 8 still lingered. She shook.
She had to be there for him too.
"Maybe I should bring him back-" Ostro stood up from his chair, pressing his weight against his hand on the elegant table.
"No." Avalon spoke.
"No?" Monsharia turned towards Avalon, pausing with a shift of her seat. "Avalon, you don't have authority over Vittorio-"
"No."
An awkward silence captivated the room. Avalon stared at the opposite wall across from her, taking in it's features.
"Avalon..." Felica growled under her breath, now showing the seriousness Avalon had once observed before.
"No!" Avalon stood up from her chair, pounding her fist next to the plate, causing the bread structure to slightly crumble. "He has complete authority over himself! You do not, nor do I!"
She pressed her palm against the chair, pushing it back before it met the mantle above her. She quickly paced towards her room, making sure she didn't meet the disgust on everyone's faces.
______________________________________________________________
She screamed. Inside of her pillow, of course.
"Damn it!" Swapping her body to turn the opposite direction, Avalon forced her foot down into a fretful kick. As always, no emotion had met her face. She didn't care what they had to say anymore, how could it become any worse? "Just go to sleep." Avalon usually slept when something horrible had occured, she didn't like thinking directly about the event.
So, she drifted of.
Step after step. She had witnessed everything set into its place, falling in love with the Capitol's trap, playing their games, the distress she had felt before began to encroach over her body again. The alarm she had been experiencing followed her everyday, morning and night, day after day, beginning when her name flourished out of Monsharia's throat. Her breath became quick, faster and faster before each short moment. Avalon noticed she would never be able to process what was happening in her simple life.
Simple wasn't a word anymore. What was simple? Avalon didn't even know.
Confusion, terror, fear, hatred, love. The expressions that filled her mind throughout the moments that passed her with a violent embrace. The lump in her throat became larger, now blocking her breathing. Will it ever stop? She paused in her thoughts. No. Avalon was falling, falling into a distance of reality. Was reality a skit now? Was Avalon playing the assigned part? What was real...?
"Oh goodness, I can't believe how amazing that was! Avalon and Vittorio, geniuses of time!" Monsharia chirped in her melodic tone, turning towards Slade in a chatter of agreements. Avalon just stood there, staring at her reflection across the elevator's glass doors. The pit in her stomach enlarged, causing an excrutiating pain that furnished inside of her skin. She wanted to scream, the Capitol's disease wouldn't terminate her yet,
though she knew she was breaking.
But there comes you,
to keep me safe from harm.
There comes you,
to take me in your arms.
Avalon's eyes amplified. She heard her mother's voice fill her mind, the sweet rhythm burning like fire in her ears. Her hands tightend, curling each finger into a dense clasp until the pressure burned. She wanted to go home.
"Daddy, where did mommy go?" The child curved her arms around her father's leg, binding her hands to meet each other. The man stared at the mantle, studying the picture intensly with a stern grasp. Avalon was frightened, she had never seen him so serious before. The woman in the frame was truly beautiful, with long bown hair like her daughter's. The child let out a smile, "Daddy, why are you staring at mama's picture like that?"
"Because, Avalon, " He still observed the picture. "She's going away for a while. You're all I have left now."
______________________________________________________________
Over the course of the past few minutes, Avalon had taken an oath to silence. The fork she was now twirling was now being taken in by her mind. The lining of the utensil had green edges with curls that curved to the bottom, and the many circles floating around the fork contained multiple colors. She let out a small sigh to herself. Anything to keep me away from this conversation... She looked up from the polished bread structure that spiraled across her plate. She wasn't in the mood for eating, nor conversation. She propped her elbow against the table, ignoring the once respected manners Monsharia had graciously given her, different from District 8's lucid set of manners. Slade raised his eyebrows towards Avalon with a slight smirk. His hair was not as perfected today, she realized it was probably caused from the stress that encircled the situation. He took the wine glass that sat next to him, and gracefully raised it in the air, still staring at Avalon, and drank. Was he congratulating her? No need for that... She rolled her eyes, looking towards Monsharia, with her now yellow shaded baldness. She went on about how training began tomorrow, and how her "wonderful tributes" would need to be prepared. Avalon couldn't help but overhear her and the obnoxious tone that came along with it her voice, Felica wasn't helping either. Ostro just sat there, eating.
"Vittorio where are you going?-" Monsharia stopped her chatter to watch Vit leave from the celebration.
"Not hungry."
Avalon watched him leave. A pang of sadness whipped through her. She wanted to run to him, take away all of his pain and fill it in her body instead. Her hands slightly gripped the tablecloth, pressing against it.
The door slammed.
Somehow, Vittorio made Avalon feel safe. He filled her with comfort, lead her to a place where District 8 still lingered. She shook.
She had to be there for him too.
"Maybe I should bring him back-" Ostro stood up from his chair, pressing his weight against his hand on the elegant table.
"No." Avalon spoke.
"No?" Monsharia turned towards Avalon, pausing with a shift of her seat. "Avalon, you don't have authority over Vittorio-"
"No."
An awkward silence captivated the room. Avalon stared at the opposite wall across from her, taking in it's features.
"Avalon..." Felica growled under her breath, now showing the seriousness Avalon had once observed before.
"No!" Avalon stood up from her chair, pounding her fist next to the plate, causing the bread structure to slightly crumble. "He has complete authority over himself! You do not, nor do I!"
She pressed her palm against the chair, pushing it back before it met the mantle above her. She quickly paced towards her room, making sure she didn't meet the disgust on everyone's faces.
______________________________________________________________
She screamed. Inside of her pillow, of course.
"Damn it!" Swapping her body to turn the opposite direction, Avalon forced her foot down into a fretful kick. As always, no emotion had met her face. She didn't care what they had to say anymore, how could it become any worse? "Just go to sleep." Avalon usually slept when something horrible had occured, she didn't like thinking directly about the event.
So, she drifted of.
The carriage rides couldn't have been worse. Literally, if anything had happened, it probably would have been better. She now officially hated her stylist. They had dressed her up like a farmer. Sure, that sort of makes sense, because, well, they were farmers after all. But the costume was awful. They had her wear denim overalls and rubber boots with a funny looking hat. They had her hold a basket of fruit and vegetables! zucchini, squash, tomatoes, fruit! It was horrible. It wasn't even memorable at all. It was humiliating. Absolutely terrible. She wanted to die right then and there. At this rate, she wouldn't have any sponsors. None. Zip. Zero. Zilch.
Lucy sighed and looked out the window of her room. 11th floor. it was a nice view. She could hear the loud parading of the capitol below. She wondered how training would go. She probably wouldn't make any allies. After all, who would want to ally with someone from district 11? She was a worthless piece of crap. Who was she fooling? She wasn't going to win this! In the end, there would be a fight. Sure, she could dodge. They would have a hard time killing her, but she wouldn't be able to kill the other person. She would die.
She turned around to head off to bed, but was again startled by the sudden appearance of her mentor. Drake, she had finally remembered was his name. "You really should be taking a sleeping pill. Do you get any sleep?" Drake asked, sitting in chair. Lucy smiled and walked over to him, settling into another chair opposite of him. "night time is the only time I can think. Because normally I am alone," Lucy responded, with a raise of her eyebrows. "I am sorry about your stylist. The carriage ride couldn't have gone worse," Drake continued, running his finger along the rim of the glass he was drinking from. "I'll say," she responded, remembering the horrible outfit she had one.
"But, do you know what is good about that outfit?" He asked, setting the glass on the table and leaning in. Lucy shrug."I get free tomatoes?" she asked, remembering the food in the basket. Drake chuckled. "No. It means that now you can prove them wrong. When you go out there and win, it will be a shock. They will say, 'isn't she the one that was dressed horribly in the carriage ride? Didn't that lower our expectations? She must really be something then, since she won.' They will be astounded if you win. You will prove them wrong. You will win." He leaned back in his chair and tossed something toward Lucy. Lucy caught it and Drake placed the glass in Lucy's hands. "Now go to bed. Get some rest." Drake said before walking off towards his bedroom.
Lucy examined what had been thrown to her. She grinned and popped it in her mouth. A sleeping pill. She took a sip of the water in the glass, washing it down. Lucy placed the glass on the counter and walked back to bed, sleep already claiming her.
Lucy sighed and looked out the window of her room. 11th floor. it was a nice view. She could hear the loud parading of the capitol below. She wondered how training would go. She probably wouldn't make any allies. After all, who would want to ally with someone from district 11? She was a worthless piece of crap. Who was she fooling? She wasn't going to win this! In the end, there would be a fight. Sure, she could dodge. They would have a hard time killing her, but she wouldn't be able to kill the other person. She would die.
She turned around to head off to bed, but was again startled by the sudden appearance of her mentor. Drake, she had finally remembered was his name. "You really should be taking a sleeping pill. Do you get any sleep?" Drake asked, sitting in chair. Lucy smiled and walked over to him, settling into another chair opposite of him. "night time is the only time I can think. Because normally I am alone," Lucy responded, with a raise of her eyebrows. "I am sorry about your stylist. The carriage ride couldn't have gone worse," Drake continued, running his finger along the rim of the glass he was drinking from. "I'll say," she responded, remembering the horrible outfit she had one.
"But, do you know what is good about that outfit?" He asked, setting the glass on the table and leaning in. Lucy shrug."I get free tomatoes?" she asked, remembering the food in the basket. Drake chuckled. "No. It means that now you can prove them wrong. When you go out there and win, it will be a shock. They will say, 'isn't she the one that was dressed horribly in the carriage ride? Didn't that lower our expectations? She must really be something then, since she won.' They will be astounded if you win. You will prove them wrong. You will win." He leaned back in his chair and tossed something toward Lucy. Lucy caught it and Drake placed the glass in Lucy's hands. "Now go to bed. Get some rest." Drake said before walking off towards his bedroom.
Lucy examined what had been thrown to her. She grinned and popped it in her mouth. A sleeping pill. She took a sip of the water in the glass, washing it down. Lucy placed the glass on the counter and walked back to bed, sleep already claiming her.
Clattice could hear the roar of the Capitol as they pulled up. Clattice tried to hide her fear. She had to get out of here alive...at any cost. As the train stopped, Kish rushed her out. "We have to get you as many sponsors as possible, so hurry and get dressed." Kish basically dragged her by the wrist to the dresser. She had a pale face and a theme of blues covered her face. Clattice didn't catch her name, but did as she was told. Soon, Clattice was in a white-blue dress (more like a kimono, because Clattice IS Japanese) decorated with the waves of the sea and the life that inhabits it. For once, Clattice's hair was down and the dresser curled it. Soon enough, it was time to present herself to the audience.
Placing herself on the carriage, she waited for Nick.
Placing herself on the carriage, she waited for Nick.
Face down on the bed, he was close to unconsciousness, but then he heard the faint sounds of someone yelling. Through the thick door it was muffled but he could just make it out as Avalon. What had happened? He propped himself up on his elbows, eyes still bleary, and turned to face the door. He couldn't make out the words but whatever she was saying, she said it passionately. As the room settled back in to silence, so did he lay back down. A sudden wave of exhaustion engulfed him and soon he couldn't even keep his eyes open. Soon was drifting off into a restless slumber, thoughts filled on what Avalon had said.
They were in a room, in was pitch black but they glowed like they were standing in the sun. He felt weightless, floating helplessly trying to reach for her. He kept trying to move forward, paddling and thrusting himself, anything to simply move him. His stretched out his arm, fingers extended, millimeters away he could feel the tips of her fingers. Looking into her face, he saw her screaming something, warning him. It seemed so important, like her life depended on him hearing her message, but he was deaf. No words left her mouth that reached his ears. It tortured him to no end. Then, an eruption from the blackness and President Snow stood like a giant before them, his unnaturally white teeth glowing in the blackness, and his crooked fingers, swooped up Avalon like she was nothing more than a doll and despite Vit's furious thrashings he couldn't move, couldn't do anything to stop Snow from dropping her into his ghastly maw.
________
He was exhausted, he had struggled to get out of bed but it was only Slade barging in and physically pushing him out that moved him. The nightmare had taken a lot out of him. Standing there now listening to the trainer addressing them all was taxing, he couldn't concentrate. His eyes drifted around the group, surveying each tribute, something to put his mind to. They were all threats, all potentially killers. That was his task in these training sessions, not only honing his own fighting skills but watching and learning about the others. The woman had finally stopped talking and Vit's attention drifted back to her. Her words seemed unimportant. Instead, the tension he felt inside of him was building up and causing his muscles to burn. He needed to hit something. A clenched fist wasn't good enough, he needed something hard that he could take out his anger and frustration. Avalon was still beside him, he hadn't spoken to her all morning and while it made him slightly guilty he already found it hard enough to stop from getting attached to her. If he was going to protect her and ensure her the victory then that would mean he had to die and if she had feelings for him then that would prove only more difficult to do so. He wanted to create distance, so as the group dispersed he went straight to the punching bags without a word to her. He had to be strong, he had to be fast and most importantly he had to be cunning.
At the punching bags there was a trainer who gave him a silent nod. He handed him some white bandage to wrap around his hands. As he was doing so, Vit turned his head slightly, eyes scanning to look at the others but mostly to find Avalon. His guilt grew as he caught her eye but in a moment he was already turning away. Hands bound he began to punch, left, right, left, right. With each beat his punches grew harder and faster. All his anger, his hatred and his guilt poured into beating the bag. He was so focused on the task that it wasn't until the trainer who had been holding the bag released it so he could grab onto Vit's wrists to make him stop. Vit gazed down at his hands and found that red was seeping through the white bandages, his knuckles bloody. And it hadn't even been ten minutes. He sighed and began to unwind the material. The trainer told him that he should instead go work on swords instead. There was a strange look in the trainers eyes and Vit glared at him, it was all he could do from spitting an accusation at the harmless man. Another glance around to make sure that he didn't go near where Avalon was training and so deemed safe he headed over to where there was a trainer helping a district six girl. He looked younger than him but seemed natural at wielding a sword. So for the rest of training Vit sparred a bit with the girl and the trainer, before moving onto weights and some survival techniques. Somehow he had managed to avoid Avalon who ever so often he caught sight of, her expression filled with confusion and a hint of worry.
It had been a long day and Vit was thoroughly worn out. Unfortunately on the way back to their rooms there was no way to avoid Avalon, but he wouldn't be the first to talk. He couldn't do it and he would much prefer her to hate him that have her break her heart when he died.
They were in a room, in was pitch black but they glowed like they were standing in the sun. He felt weightless, floating helplessly trying to reach for her. He kept trying to move forward, paddling and thrusting himself, anything to simply move him. His stretched out his arm, fingers extended, millimeters away he could feel the tips of her fingers. Looking into her face, he saw her screaming something, warning him. It seemed so important, like her life depended on him hearing her message, but he was deaf. No words left her mouth that reached his ears. It tortured him to no end. Then, an eruption from the blackness and President Snow stood like a giant before them, his unnaturally white teeth glowing in the blackness, and his crooked fingers, swooped up Avalon like she was nothing more than a doll and despite Vit's furious thrashings he couldn't move, couldn't do anything to stop Snow from dropping her into his ghastly maw.
________
He was exhausted, he had struggled to get out of bed but it was only Slade barging in and physically pushing him out that moved him. The nightmare had taken a lot out of him. Standing there now listening to the trainer addressing them all was taxing, he couldn't concentrate. His eyes drifted around the group, surveying each tribute, something to put his mind to. They were all threats, all potentially killers. That was his task in these training sessions, not only honing his own fighting skills but watching and learning about the others. The woman had finally stopped talking and Vit's attention drifted back to her. Her words seemed unimportant. Instead, the tension he felt inside of him was building up and causing his muscles to burn. He needed to hit something. A clenched fist wasn't good enough, he needed something hard that he could take out his anger and frustration. Avalon was still beside him, he hadn't spoken to her all morning and while it made him slightly guilty he already found it hard enough to stop from getting attached to her. If he was going to protect her and ensure her the victory then that would mean he had to die and if she had feelings for him then that would prove only more difficult to do so. He wanted to create distance, so as the group dispersed he went straight to the punching bags without a word to her. He had to be strong, he had to be fast and most importantly he had to be cunning.
At the punching bags there was a trainer who gave him a silent nod. He handed him some white bandage to wrap around his hands. As he was doing so, Vit turned his head slightly, eyes scanning to look at the others but mostly to find Avalon. His guilt grew as he caught her eye but in a moment he was already turning away. Hands bound he began to punch, left, right, left, right. With each beat his punches grew harder and faster. All his anger, his hatred and his guilt poured into beating the bag. He was so focused on the task that it wasn't until the trainer who had been holding the bag released it so he could grab onto Vit's wrists to make him stop. Vit gazed down at his hands and found that red was seeping through the white bandages, his knuckles bloody. And it hadn't even been ten minutes. He sighed and began to unwind the material. The trainer told him that he should instead go work on swords instead. There was a strange look in the trainers eyes and Vit glared at him, it was all he could do from spitting an accusation at the harmless man. Another glance around to make sure that he didn't go near where Avalon was training and so deemed safe he headed over to where there was a trainer helping a district six girl. He looked younger than him but seemed natural at wielding a sword. So for the rest of training Vit sparred a bit with the girl and the trainer, before moving onto weights and some survival techniques. Somehow he had managed to avoid Avalon who ever so often he caught sight of, her expression filled with confusion and a hint of worry.
It had been a long day and Vit was thoroughly worn out. Unfortunately on the way back to their rooms there was no way to avoid Avalon, but he wouldn't be the first to talk. He couldn't do it and he would much prefer her to hate him that have her break her heart when he died.
Avalon Shire
The piercing screams began to unfoil through Avalon's ears. Her movements were slow to fit the now disinclined motion that filled the apprehensive situation. Her eyes drifted upon the arrow that sped above her shoulder; she took in each ripple of air, hoping it wouldn't pulse through her aching skin. Her pupils were vast, gathering the surroundings around her while her heart throbbed against her tense chest. The sweet smell of pine turned into a scent of burning air, creating a crisp sense to everything in the area. Her shoe pressed against the breaking ground beneath her, jolting her body with each step into the ambience above. The thoughts of adrenaline skipped across her mind when she started running faster with each pace. Darkness began to swarm aginst her sore body, wrapping her into a bed of endless slumber. Her knees hit the ground as a sharp tingle of pain ran against her spine. Her eyes closed, accepting the fate that overtook her. No more darkness.
The turmoil inside of Avalon created a shrieking wail that escaped her lungs. Pressing her palms against the sheets, she jolted upward, now breathing laboriously. Sweat coated her face, indicating the inner horror that bursted from the nightmare. The rise and fall of her chest faded when she realized her setting was now reality, not a place of fear. Her eyelids shut when short breaths of air folded across her lips. Her head turned, revolving her eyes to examine the room. It was still the same, white drapes were slung above the gleaming windows, and the elegant fragrance still lingered in the air. Her fingers contracted the soft textured blankets below her in an action of worry.
It was going to be a long day.
______________________________________________________________
"This is an underground gymnasium filled with training stations and obstacle courses where the you prepare and practice for the challenges in the arena. The training stations spaced throughout the center are based on different skills that may be useful in the arena, including knot tying, identifying edible plants and insects, camoflauge, and practicing with weapons. Experts are placed at each station to instruct and serve as training partners to the tributes, but you are forbidden to fight each other before the Games actually begin." The nimble woman stood there, explaining the view of the training center. Avalon observed her, she was a dark-skinned woman with black hair tied back in a loose ponytail and dark eyes. Her training outfit has the Capitol seal visible. Unlike most Capitol citizens, she looked normal to a modern or district-oriented perspective. Avalon studied the gymnasium, eyeing each of its features now. It was a modern area, like most in the Capitol, but with a quiet function in the air. Avalon stood, standing tall without character. She didn't want to look interesting, but strided for intimidation against her enemies, though, she shook within herself. Her attention was now aimed towards the actual tributes, who stood there with pride and glory marked across their faces.
She was a snack.
"23 of you will be dead soon enough," The woman went on, jolting Avalon back to focus. "Most of you will die of natural causes, or stupid mistakes. Don't ignore the skills in order to-" Avalon ignored the woman, still watching the tributes. The careers were in a cluster, likely ignoring the woman as she was. The District 2 male stood there, his eyes crossing the rest of his prey. Beside him stood the District 2 female tribute along with the District 1 male and District 3 female, smiling with each other. Avalon's heart began to beat quicker, then she tried to calming herself. All efforts didn't seem to be working.
"Remember to be strong Avalon, you look like a weakling compared to the rest of the tributes." Avalon had remembered Slade's wonderful comment this morning in the elevator on the way to the training center. She now realized he was right, and tried to stay as focused as possible.
"Good luck." The woman turned, heading towards the gamemakers that would now be observing each of the tributes. Avalon stood there while many of the other tributes dispersed amongst the gymnasium. Her chest tightened.
Vittorio.
She wanted to watch him, make sure he was alright, protect him in any possible way. A different feeling bursted inside of her each time she saw him- and she couldn't explain why. Confusion was the usual emotion when she thought of Vittorio, especially today. Why is he avoiding me? He had kept a distance from Avalon all throughout the day, making sure he wouldn't connect through her path of thoughts. Somehow she wanted to guard him from harm, make sure he was always there. He was the only one she cared about in the Capitol, one of the few she actually cared about anywhere. She watched him pace his way towards a punching bag that hung from and iron rack. Maybe I did something... Avalon bit her lip. She always did something. The pressure pounded against her heart as heaviness approached it. Avalon decided she would stay away from him, make him feel alright and safe away from her confusing moods.
He didn't need her, she needed him.
The thought shocked her. She instantly ignored it, now targeting what was really happening outside of her mind.
______________________________________________________________
The strokes of the paint brush flowed across Avalon's hand in tiny circles. Painting helped Avalon think, one of the few things that actually helped her think. It reminded her of District 8 because of the designs she used to create for many weaving patterns. She smiled to herself, looking content for once. The muddy mixture as a substitute for paint cracked above her hand as she flexed it, making it actually resemble dried dirt.
"District 8?"
Avalon whipped her head around, meeting the emerald eyes before her. Words tried to escape her throat, but it felt dry, reminding her of the dirt that lined her hand.
"What?" There was a pause. "Are you- a mute?" A smile was plastered onto the girl's face. She was quite beautiful, with flowing blond hair and a long, lanky body. Her full lips pursed into a frown as her eyes met Avalon's hand. "You think you'll win with some dainty painting skills?" The girl folded her arms. Avalon recognized her as the girl from the career pack earlier. Great, She thought, This is going to cause trouble. The blond girl gave a slight wink and turned away from her, wiping the braid across her back in a swishing motion. She whispered over her shoulder, "Good luck with that, District 8." The girl walked towards the rest of her group, who were now exchanging quiet chuckles of laughter. Avalon bit her lip, now forcefully grabbing the handle connected to the sink, washing her hand quickly. She eyed the girl who was smirking towards her. You're on my list first, weakling. Avalon imagined her saying. Vittorio stood there, punching his anger and frustation out on a punching bag, causing his knuckles to be bloody.
Avalon couldn't take this any longer. They were better than them.
She hurridly walked towards the throwing knife station. When she reached it, the silver blades rubbed against her skin, making a small opening of blood. Avalon observed it, now raising it to a normal position. I still have this in me. The targets above her stood still, waiting for her to throw. With a small flick of her wrist, the blade flew past her eyelids with a ripple of air, just like in the nightmare. Each hit was a success for Avalon when they pierced through the foam of the targets. She gave a slight smile and turned to the career girl who stood there, arms folded with a stern look across her face. Avalon couldn't believe what had just unfolded in the course of a few minutes. Had she really gotten the courage to do that?
Good luck, District 2.
______________________________________________________________
The elevator ride back to their quarters was awkward. Avalon hadn't muttered a word when she stood beside Vittorio. She avoided him, as he did, though she fretfully wanted to say in truth what she was feeling.
Would it ever happen?
The piercing screams began to unfoil through Avalon's ears. Her movements were slow to fit the now disinclined motion that filled the apprehensive situation. Her eyes drifted upon the arrow that sped above her shoulder; she took in each ripple of air, hoping it wouldn't pulse through her aching skin. Her pupils were vast, gathering the surroundings around her while her heart throbbed against her tense chest. The sweet smell of pine turned into a scent of burning air, creating a crisp sense to everything in the area. Her shoe pressed against the breaking ground beneath her, jolting her body with each step into the ambience above. The thoughts of adrenaline skipped across her mind when she started running faster with each pace. Darkness began to swarm aginst her sore body, wrapping her into a bed of endless slumber. Her knees hit the ground as a sharp tingle of pain ran against her spine. Her eyes closed, accepting the fate that overtook her. No more darkness.
The turmoil inside of Avalon created a shrieking wail that escaped her lungs. Pressing her palms against the sheets, she jolted upward, now breathing laboriously. Sweat coated her face, indicating the inner horror that bursted from the nightmare. The rise and fall of her chest faded when she realized her setting was now reality, not a place of fear. Her eyelids shut when short breaths of air folded across her lips. Her head turned, revolving her eyes to examine the room. It was still the same, white drapes were slung above the gleaming windows, and the elegant fragrance still lingered in the air. Her fingers contracted the soft textured blankets below her in an action of worry.
It was going to be a long day.
______________________________________________________________
"This is an underground gymnasium filled with training stations and obstacle courses where the you prepare and practice for the challenges in the arena. The training stations spaced throughout the center are based on different skills that may be useful in the arena, including knot tying, identifying edible plants and insects, camoflauge, and practicing with weapons. Experts are placed at each station to instruct and serve as training partners to the tributes, but you are forbidden to fight each other before the Games actually begin." The nimble woman stood there, explaining the view of the training center. Avalon observed her, she was a dark-skinned woman with black hair tied back in a loose ponytail and dark eyes. Her training outfit has the Capitol seal visible. Unlike most Capitol citizens, she looked normal to a modern or district-oriented perspective. Avalon studied the gymnasium, eyeing each of its features now. It was a modern area, like most in the Capitol, but with a quiet function in the air. Avalon stood, standing tall without character. She didn't want to look interesting, but strided for intimidation against her enemies, though, she shook within herself. Her attention was now aimed towards the actual tributes, who stood there with pride and glory marked across their faces.
She was a snack.
"23 of you will be dead soon enough," The woman went on, jolting Avalon back to focus. "Most of you will die of natural causes, or stupid mistakes. Don't ignore the skills in order to-" Avalon ignored the woman, still watching the tributes. The careers were in a cluster, likely ignoring the woman as she was. The District 2 male stood there, his eyes crossing the rest of his prey. Beside him stood the District 2 female tribute along with the District 1 male and District 3 female, smiling with each other. Avalon's heart began to beat quicker, then she tried to calming herself. All efforts didn't seem to be working.
"Remember to be strong Avalon, you look like a weakling compared to the rest of the tributes." Avalon had remembered Slade's wonderful comment this morning in the elevator on the way to the training center. She now realized he was right, and tried to stay as focused as possible.
"Good luck." The woman turned, heading towards the gamemakers that would now be observing each of the tributes. Avalon stood there while many of the other tributes dispersed amongst the gymnasium. Her chest tightened.
Vittorio.
She wanted to watch him, make sure he was alright, protect him in any possible way. A different feeling bursted inside of her each time she saw him- and she couldn't explain why. Confusion was the usual emotion when she thought of Vittorio, especially today. Why is he avoiding me? He had kept a distance from Avalon all throughout the day, making sure he wouldn't connect through her path of thoughts. Somehow she wanted to guard him from harm, make sure he was always there. He was the only one she cared about in the Capitol, one of the few she actually cared about anywhere. She watched him pace his way towards a punching bag that hung from and iron rack. Maybe I did something... Avalon bit her lip. She always did something. The pressure pounded against her heart as heaviness approached it. Avalon decided she would stay away from him, make him feel alright and safe away from her confusing moods.
He didn't need her, she needed him.
The thought shocked her. She instantly ignored it, now targeting what was really happening outside of her mind.
______________________________________________________________
The strokes of the paint brush flowed across Avalon's hand in tiny circles. Painting helped Avalon think, one of the few things that actually helped her think. It reminded her of District 8 because of the designs she used to create for many weaving patterns. She smiled to herself, looking content for once. The muddy mixture as a substitute for paint cracked above her hand as she flexed it, making it actually resemble dried dirt.
"District 8?"
Avalon whipped her head around, meeting the emerald eyes before her. Words tried to escape her throat, but it felt dry, reminding her of the dirt that lined her hand.
"What?" There was a pause. "Are you- a mute?" A smile was plastered onto the girl's face. She was quite beautiful, with flowing blond hair and a long, lanky body. Her full lips pursed into a frown as her eyes met Avalon's hand. "You think you'll win with some dainty painting skills?" The girl folded her arms. Avalon recognized her as the girl from the career pack earlier. Great, She thought, This is going to cause trouble. The blond girl gave a slight wink and turned away from her, wiping the braid across her back in a swishing motion. She whispered over her shoulder, "Good luck with that, District 8." The girl walked towards the rest of her group, who were now exchanging quiet chuckles of laughter. Avalon bit her lip, now forcefully grabbing the handle connected to the sink, washing her hand quickly. She eyed the girl who was smirking towards her. You're on my list first, weakling. Avalon imagined her saying. Vittorio stood there, punching his anger and frustation out on a punching bag, causing his knuckles to be bloody.
Avalon couldn't take this any longer. They were better than them.
She hurridly walked towards the throwing knife station. When she reached it, the silver blades rubbed against her skin, making a small opening of blood. Avalon observed it, now raising it to a normal position. I still have this in me. The targets above her stood still, waiting for her to throw. With a small flick of her wrist, the blade flew past her eyelids with a ripple of air, just like in the nightmare. Each hit was a success for Avalon when they pierced through the foam of the targets. She gave a slight smile and turned to the career girl who stood there, arms folded with a stern look across her face. Avalon couldn't believe what had just unfolded in the course of a few minutes. Had she really gotten the courage to do that?
Good luck, District 2.
______________________________________________________________
The elevator ride back to their quarters was awkward. Avalon hadn't muttered a word when she stood beside Vittorio. She avoided him, as he did, though she fretfully wanted to say in truth what she was feeling.
Would it ever happen?
Nick boarded the carriage after Clattice, and was vaguely aware of the sounds of a crowd. Some cheers, some jeers, some hissing, too. But to be honest, None of it really registered properly in his mind. Everything was whizzing past him in a blur. He barely even noticed the booming voice of President Snow, as he welcomed each district to the games. And of course, wished them well, and that the odds be ever in their favor.
Nick glanced down at the golden "Merman" like armour he had been dressed in, and the fake golden trident in his left hand. How he longed for this to be his trusty fishing spear. He looked up at Snow on that balcony, around 60 feet above the chariots. He was pretty certain he could make the throw with his spear. Send it hurtling straight through Snow's chest. He deserved it. He deserved to be gutted, like a trout. He was the one orchestrating these terrible games.
Before he knew it, they were being shuttled into a building, everyone. All the tributes were gathered together for the first time, before being hastily shown to their rooms. District four had a room on the fourth floor, as always. And Nick didn't sleep a wink in the gigantic sea-blue bed that had been laid out for him.
--------------------------------------
The following morning, Kish woke both Clattice and Nick up for training. They were told to put on the training uniforms provided, and head downstairs in 20 minutes. There was a delicious feast laid out on the table in their room. Nick looked at it with disdain, and picked some grilled salmon up with his bare hands, tearing it along the flaky separations, before placing chunk after chunk in his mouth and savoring the taste. He absolutely loved fish, especially salmon. But back at home, where this very salmon would have been farmed, they weren't entitled to taste the fish very often. It was for the Capitols tastes only. Pathetic.
"Well," Nick said, washing his food down with a goblet of water. "I guess we should go and prepare. Right?" He said to Clattice.. And for the first time, he smiled.
Nick glanced down at the golden "Merman" like armour he had been dressed in, and the fake golden trident in his left hand. How he longed for this to be his trusty fishing spear. He looked up at Snow on that balcony, around 60 feet above the chariots. He was pretty certain he could make the throw with his spear. Send it hurtling straight through Snow's chest. He deserved it. He deserved to be gutted, like a trout. He was the one orchestrating these terrible games.
Before he knew it, they were being shuttled into a building, everyone. All the tributes were gathered together for the first time, before being hastily shown to their rooms. District four had a room on the fourth floor, as always. And Nick didn't sleep a wink in the gigantic sea-blue bed that had been laid out for him.
--------------------------------------
The following morning, Kish woke both Clattice and Nick up for training. They were told to put on the training uniforms provided, and head downstairs in 20 minutes. There was a delicious feast laid out on the table in their room. Nick looked at it with disdain, and picked some grilled salmon up with his bare hands, tearing it along the flaky separations, before placing chunk after chunk in his mouth and savoring the taste. He absolutely loved fish, especially salmon. But back at home, where this very salmon would have been farmed, they weren't entitled to taste the fish very often. It was for the Capitols tastes only. Pathetic.
"Well," Nick said, washing his food down with a goblet of water. "I guess we should go and prepare. Right?" He said to Clattice.. And for the first time, he smiled.
((Sorry if this OOC message in the role-play bothers you. To the characters I tag: Don't feel like you have to respond right away. Catch up if you have to, just know that I tagged you.))
Training. Breath in. Breath out. Her mentor had told her not to show how fast she was, to leave them guessing. It was a good idea, but now everyone would view her as week. She must be the youngest one here. Literally, she remembered the watching the reaping tape. She was the youngest, and most likely to die first, that is, unless she made some friends. She shook the thought away. Friends she would just end up killing, killing her, or watch being killed. She glanced around at the rest of the tributes. There was district four, the fishers, careers, she presumed, as that is what they were every year. She sized them up, maybe not careers, but still just as easy to outrun. She blinked. She shouldn't have to think about this. She was only 12. But you have to be strong. Then there was district eight, both so much older than her. She was dead meat.
Surprisingly enough, she walked to the knife rack, and spent a good hour learning how to defend herself. SHe couldn't be completely helpless, you know? After working up a great deal of sweat she wandered over to the plant station, sitting down and listening to a lecture about what plants are poisonous or not. Like she didn't already know. Growing up in a farming family had its benefits. Even the most confused poisonous plants never tricked her. Glancing around at the other tributes, she felt....small. She breathed in heavily. Yep, she was dead meat.
Training. Breath in. Breath out. Her mentor had told her not to show how fast she was, to leave them guessing. It was a good idea, but now everyone would view her as week. She must be the youngest one here. Literally, she remembered the watching the reaping tape. She was the youngest, and most likely to die first, that is, unless she made some friends. She shook the thought away. Friends she would just end up killing, killing her, or watch being killed. She glanced around at the rest of the tributes. There was district four, the fishers, careers, she presumed, as that is what they were every year. She sized them up, maybe not careers, but still just as easy to outrun. She blinked. She shouldn't have to think about this. She was only 12. But you have to be strong. Then there was district eight, both so much older than her. She was dead meat.
Surprisingly enough, she walked to the knife rack, and spent a good hour learning how to defend herself. SHe couldn't be completely helpless, you know? After working up a great deal of sweat she wandered over to the plant station, sitting down and listening to a lecture about what plants are poisonous or not. Like she didn't already know. Growing up in a farming family had its benefits. Even the most confused poisonous plants never tricked her. Glancing around at the other tributes, she felt....small. She breathed in heavily. Yep, she was dead meat.
Ethan sat quietly, slowly turning the ring his family had given him over between his fingers, absently concentrating on how the cold smooth metal was beginning to grow warm in his grasp. He stared blankly at the door through which the peacekeepers had ushered his family only a few minutes earlier. His stony emotionally void expression was back in place though his cheeks were still damp from crying and his eyes held less of the feverishly fearful spark they had had when he was chosen. Now they held a resigned agony and profound despair that made it hard for Ethan to think, let alone devise any sort of strategy for the games. Soon the peacekeepers came again and called for him to follow him to the carriage so they could be on their way to the train. he didn't move. The second command to get up and follow the peacekeepers resulted similarly in very little action, only the brief flicker of his eyes moving to look at them for a moment ensued. finally the head peacekeeper took him roughly by the shoulders and lead him out towards the carriage. climbing in he sat in the far seat and waited for Aster to join him.
As soon as he was within earshot Effie their capitol mentor began speaking to him rapidly. None of what she said registered, Ethan turned his limited attention to Heymitch the only person to ever have won the games from his district. Silently he let his gaze pour over the drunken mentor. His unblinking unfocused gaze did not falter.
As soon as he was within earshot Effie their capitol mentor began speaking to him rapidly. None of what she said registered, Ethan turned his limited attention to Heymitch the only person to ever have won the games from his district. Silently he let his gaze pour over the drunken mentor. His unblinking unfocused gaze did not falter.
Aster's mind was a turmoil of thoughts as she was ushered onto the train carriage, but none of this showed on her face which was nothing but blankness.
"Oh, there she is!" cried Effie excitedly at the sight of Aster. Aster just blinked at her slowly, for a moment, before she glanced around to take in her surroundings. She couldn't hide the amazed look on her face, her eyes widening slightly as she saw just how luxurious it all was.
"Quite lovely, isn't it? Yes, really quite excellent, actually!" With a too-wide grin on her face, Effie gave a small, delighted clap and then got up and made her way across the train carriage, over to Aster. "Thank you fellas, but I'll take it from here." the woman told the peacekeepers with a smile before she took Aster by the arm and led her over to the area where her district partner was sitting, as well as a man who she only assumed to be Haymitch, her mentor.
"Certainly you've met Ethan already, yes? Good." said Effie, not even waiting for Aster's answer. Aster glanced over at Ethan for a brief moment as Effie talked, but then looked away almost immediately so she wouldn't risk making eye contact.
A few long moments passed with no one saying a word, and of course it was Effie who dove in to break the silence, "Well Aster, have a seat." Effie patted on a plump looking chair and Aster sat down on it quietly, keeping her gaze down towards the floor.
"Well you two, I'm sure you've heard of him before, but this is Haymitch, and of course, he will be your mentor in this years games. And might I say, you two are in excellent hands with him." Effie had the same overly large smile plastered on her face the entire time she spoke. Aster looked up at Haymitch, blinking a few times. He looked different than she had imagined him, and even though she didn't like to judge people at a first glance, she had to wonder if what Effie said was true.
"W-well..." said Effie, obviously starting to feel a little ill-at-ease with all the silence. We'll be getting to the capitol quite soon... How about you two talk, get to know each other, yes? You're district partners! Certainly it will be to your advantage if you're familiar with each other, won't it?" Effie's gaze darted between them, and Aster found it quite amusing how uncomfortable she seemed to be, finally realizing how she had just been chirping on and on and on. "Oh yes, and of course, you can talk with Haymitch as well, maybe start planning how your training will go. He is here to help you, after all." Aster noticed Effie give him a look that she thought almost seemed like a warning. She furrowed her brows in thought as she looked down at the floor.
"O-oh yes, and help yourself to some food as well... As much as your heart desires!" Effie added lastly. Then she took a few steps back before turning and prancing off somewhere else. Aster watched her leave and then turned around again. She lowered her head slightly as if she was looking at the floor, but she brought her gaze up to look between Ethan and Haymitch, back and forth between them, waiting for one of them to say something. She certainly knew it she wouldn't be the first to crack.
"Oh, there she is!" cried Effie excitedly at the sight of Aster. Aster just blinked at her slowly, for a moment, before she glanced around to take in her surroundings. She couldn't hide the amazed look on her face, her eyes widening slightly as she saw just how luxurious it all was.
"Quite lovely, isn't it? Yes, really quite excellent, actually!" With a too-wide grin on her face, Effie gave a small, delighted clap and then got up and made her way across the train carriage, over to Aster. "Thank you fellas, but I'll take it from here." the woman told the peacekeepers with a smile before she took Aster by the arm and led her over to the area where her district partner was sitting, as well as a man who she only assumed to be Haymitch, her mentor.
"Certainly you've met Ethan already, yes? Good." said Effie, not even waiting for Aster's answer. Aster glanced over at Ethan for a brief moment as Effie talked, but then looked away almost immediately so she wouldn't risk making eye contact.
A few long moments passed with no one saying a word, and of course it was Effie who dove in to break the silence, "Well Aster, have a seat." Effie patted on a plump looking chair and Aster sat down on it quietly, keeping her gaze down towards the floor.
"Well you two, I'm sure you've heard of him before, but this is Haymitch, and of course, he will be your mentor in this years games. And might I say, you two are in excellent hands with him." Effie had the same overly large smile plastered on her face the entire time she spoke. Aster looked up at Haymitch, blinking a few times. He looked different than she had imagined him, and even though she didn't like to judge people at a first glance, she had to wonder if what Effie said was true.
"W-well..." said Effie, obviously starting to feel a little ill-at-ease with all the silence. We'll be getting to the capitol quite soon... How about you two talk, get to know each other, yes? You're district partners! Certainly it will be to your advantage if you're familiar with each other, won't it?" Effie's gaze darted between them, and Aster found it quite amusing how uncomfortable she seemed to be, finally realizing how she had just been chirping on and on and on. "Oh yes, and of course, you can talk with Haymitch as well, maybe start planning how your training will go. He is here to help you, after all." Aster noticed Effie give him a look that she thought almost seemed like a warning. She furrowed her brows in thought as she looked down at the floor.
"O-oh yes, and help yourself to some food as well... As much as your heart desires!" Effie added lastly. Then she took a few steps back before turning and prancing off somewhere else. Aster watched her leave and then turned around again. She lowered her head slightly as if she was looking at the floor, but she brought her gaze up to look between Ethan and Haymitch, back and forth between them, waiting for one of them to say something. She certainly knew it she wouldn't be the first to crack.
Only one more day of training and then they would be assessed. He needed to score high, without it the others wouldn't view him as a threat. But then again, if he scored too low he would be considered weak and would be singled out. No, he them to come after him so that he could kill them on his own terms. So that Avalon wouldn't be put in danger, so that she would have the best chance of winning. He hadn't spoken to her all day, nor just before when they were sitting at dinner. Slade and Monsharia had tried to make conversation but he ignored them, pretending to focus on his food. In his mind he was reviewing the day of training. Of course the career tributes had skills in everything but a he had tried to take not of what they excelled at. If he found their strength then it would be easy to exploit it and find a way so that they couldn't use it. Unfortunately as his mind was on the other tributes he thought of one that had really tweaked a nerve inside of him. The district 11 girl. She looked barely 12 years old. It was probably her first year of having her name in and look at her luck. How could the Capitol people bear to watch a child be murdered by other children? But he couldn't go down that path of thought again. It would only end up with him losing it and most likely doing something drastic in his maddened state.
The evening passed with nothing special. He left as soon as he had eaten his fill. He had only been in there long enough to get changed before there was a light knock on the door. Fearing it was Avalon he didn't answer straight away, but the distinct sound of Slade's deep voice somehow persuaded him to get the door. He didn't open it fully, only shoulder width, so that there was still some sort of barrier and it showed Slade that he wasn't interested in talking.
"What is it?" He grunted.
"I get that this is the shittiest way to go. This whole situation is hell and heck the Capitol is full of psychopaths. I know what you're doing. I was in your position once too. Just be careful."
_______
Another day of training. The final day before he would show them what he could do. Still avoiding Avalon he made sure to constantly move around, observing all of the other tributes. He noticed the young girl again. She was so small, it crushed his heart to think that she would most likely die. But he would not be the one to encounter her in the arena. He watched her for a little longer. It was clear that she was very determined. His eyes drifted away again, focusing on the towards that he was practising on. The deadly piece of metal felt surprisingly natural in his hand, he weaved it and twirled it with some skill. It was just like a large needle. He and the trainer sparred for a bit, working up quite a bit of sweat. Moving on from the physical exertion he went to brush up on general survival skills. Near that station a district 2 girl was going through the different types of plants. He noted that she seemed to be having trouble remembering. That could come in handy. She also seemed to get very frustrated. He was still gazing at her, watching her struggle when she noticed him. Her face turned to a cruel scowl.
"What are you looking at?"
He ignored her and turned to the task at hand. But he could feel her sharp gaze on his back. She would be a danger.
The evening passed with nothing special. He left as soon as he had eaten his fill. He had only been in there long enough to get changed before there was a light knock on the door. Fearing it was Avalon he didn't answer straight away, but the distinct sound of Slade's deep voice somehow persuaded him to get the door. He didn't open it fully, only shoulder width, so that there was still some sort of barrier and it showed Slade that he wasn't interested in talking.
"What is it?" He grunted.
"I get that this is the shittiest way to go. This whole situation is hell and heck the Capitol is full of psychopaths. I know what you're doing. I was in your position once too. Just be careful."
_______
Another day of training. The final day before he would show them what he could do. Still avoiding Avalon he made sure to constantly move around, observing all of the other tributes. He noticed the young girl again. She was so small, it crushed his heart to think that she would most likely die. But he would not be the one to encounter her in the arena. He watched her for a little longer. It was clear that she was very determined. His eyes drifted away again, focusing on the towards that he was practising on. The deadly piece of metal felt surprisingly natural in his hand, he weaved it and twirled it with some skill. It was just like a large needle. He and the trainer sparred for a bit, working up quite a bit of sweat. Moving on from the physical exertion he went to brush up on general survival skills. Near that station a district 2 girl was going through the different types of plants. He noted that she seemed to be having trouble remembering. That could come in handy. She also seemed to get very frustrated. He was still gazing at her, watching her struggle when she noticed him. Her face turned to a cruel scowl.
"What are you looking at?"
He ignored her and turned to the task at hand. But he could feel her sharp gaze on his back. She would be a danger.
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View All » Add Character » 14 Characters to follow in this universe
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Nicholas White
A fisherman's son from District 4. A possible dark horse.
Katarina Bird
District 6 (Transportation) Trubute
Ethan Wilson Grey
District 12 Tribute
Ruby Crowe
"I'm going to win. Simple as that."
Seneca Crane - Caesar Flickerman
"You know who we are..."
Avalon Shire
"Don't touch me... You can't break me anymore..."
Vittorio Delegarce
"Even if the Capitol thinks they can crush us, we'll rise from the ashes."
Trending
Katarina Bird
District 6 (Transportation) Trubute
Seneca Crane - Caesar Flickerman
"You know who we are..."
Ruby Crowe
"I'm going to win. Simple as that."
Nicholas White
A fisherman's son from District 4. A possible dark horse.
Avalon Shire
"Don't touch me... You can't break me anymore..."
Vittorio Delegarce
"Even if the Capitol thinks they can crush us, we'll rise from the ashes."
Ethan Wilson Grey
District 12 Tribute
Most Followed
Seneca Crane - Caesar Flickerman
"You know who we are..."
Vittorio Delegarce
"Even if the Capitol thinks they can crush us, we'll rise from the ashes."
Nicholas White
A fisherman's son from District 4. A possible dark horse.
Katarina Bird
District 6 (Transportation) Trubute
Ruby Crowe
"I'm going to win. Simple as that."
Ethan Wilson Grey
District 12 Tribute
Avalon Shire
"Don't touch me... You can't break me anymore..."
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The 70th Annual Hunger Games
1, 2, 3, 4by ItsViolet on Wed Aug 22, 2012 7:16 pm
- 76 Replies
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- Last post by akjadestar
on Sat Oct 27, 2012 9:35 pm
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The 70th Annual Hunger Games
Most recent OOC posts in The 70th Annual Hunger Games
Re: The 70th Annual Hunger Games
Hey! Didn't notice your post until tonight, I will definitely post tomorrow! I really hope this continues- its so awesome!
Re: The 70th Annual Hunger Games
I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry !!!
I would have posted a while ago, but I got stuck for ideas and then I got a bit busy... So I'll try and get that up either today or within a couple of days. Hopefully before Friday because I will be incredibly busy over the weekend.
Again I am so so so sorry. I just wanted to let you know that I'm still around and interested in this and I too miss posting in this!
I would have posted a while ago, but I got stuck for ideas and then I got a bit busy... So I'll try and get that up either today or within a couple of days. Hopefully before Friday because I will be incredibly busy over the weekend.
Again I am so so so sorry. I just wanted to let you know that I'm still around and interested in this and I too miss posting in this!
Re: The 70th Annual Hunger Games
I'll wait a couple days for mistsong to post and if she doesn't I'll just keep going solo I guess... It's not fair for me to hold you guys all up :(
Re: The 70th Annual Hunger Games
Kagerou wrote:Is this still going? I've had a ton of shit going on...
Yep, still running! And Adantas, I can't wait for you to post! I've missed posting on this. :(
Re: The 70th Annual Hunger Games
I am back!!
And what is this?!?! No more posties :( I'll try to get a post up soon, but at the moment I am exhausted :P
And what is this?!?! No more posties :( I'll try to get a post up soon, but at the moment I am exhausted :P
Re: The 70th Annual Hunger Games
definitely will post tonight, need to finish up some home work and head home then I can write!
Re: The 70th Annual Hunger Games
Ohhh so that's why! I understand, haha. Do you think you'll be able to do a post tomorrow maybe before you go to school? Then I could reply when I get back from school. If we each post at least once a day we could hopefully catch up, and maybe in your next post you should have us arrive at the capitol, maybe after a bit of interaction though!!
Re: The 70th Annual Hunger Games
AHHHHH! Tonight I PROMISE! tonight! its my night school! it gets in the way of everything fun! :(
Re: The 70th Annual Hunger Games
I'm gonna do a post for the train ride today... I wanted Aster and Ethan to be able to interact a bit before getting to the capitol and training but if mistsong doesn't post in the next few days then I'll do another post that will get me caught up with you guys
Re: The 70th Annual Hunger Games
Argh! Sorry! Been super-busy. I'll post now and try to catch district four up with the rest of you!
Re: The 70th Annual Hunger Games
Okay! Just a heads up that on Sunday I will be flying to NZ for a ski holiday for ten days! I won't have access to internet so sorry! Hopefully by the time I come back, we will all be on the same page :)
Re: The 70th Annual Hunger Games
You guys should all come to the Training days now, I want to interact with other peoples!!! ;) Om nom nom... I won't post until everyone else is on the same page.
Re: The 70th Annual Hunger Games
Did not even cross my mind when I was writing the post but I mention the girl from six and I just realised that she is in fact one RPed!! XD
Re: The 70th Annual Hunger Games
It's fine mistsong, I've been quite busy myself, it happens sometimes :) No worries at all. Anyways, I think I'm gonna make a post right now with Aster getting on the train, that way when you do your post later, we can finally have them interact a bit and stuff!