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Emberly Byrne

"I'm sorry, but it's you or me. I have to do this."

0 · 387 views · located in Panem

a character in “The 25th Hunger Games”, originally authored by AugustArria, as played by RolePlayGateway

Description

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Name: Emberly Amalia Byrne
Nicknames: Em, Embers
Age: 17
Sexuality: Heterosexual
Birthday: March 14
District: Three - Technology

Weapon of choice: Poison Dart Gun: A single shot pneumatic rifle that fires small darts. There is a pump along the barrel that she uses to restore air pressure between shots, it requires approximately ten pumps between each shot. The darts themselves are tipped with a poison. The effects are a near immediate stiffening of the muscles, which intensifies over the course of about twenty seconds. After that point, attempts to use any muscles will cause extreme pain. It effectively paralyzes the target for its duration, which is about five minutes. She carries a knife to finish off paralyzed opponents.
Talent: General Survival (though she is moderately stealthy, and she's fast when she's moving in a straight line.)
Weaknesses: Em is easily startled, and tends to panic when she's frightened, or if she feels she doesn't have the upper hand, causing her to be unable to think straight. Also, she lacks the strength, agility, and endurance to last very long at all in a melee fight. She has to rely on her wits, her stealth, and her gun to survive.
Hobbies: Tinkering with things, playing guitar. Em's an incredibly skilled guitar player, and it's her favorite way of relaxing.
Likes: Quiet places, warmth, her father, inventing things, reading, writing, music in general, her guitar, her friends, dogs.
Dislikes: Being startled, the cold, surprises, obnoxiously loud people, liars.
Fears: Loud, sudden noises, explosives. Em reacts more violently to loud bangs, and they cause her to lose her ability to think straight. She either freezes momentarily, has trouble breathing, or becomes nauseous. Often a mix of the three.
Token: Her bracelet. It was a gift from her father for her sixteenth birthday.

Personality: Em's typically a quiet, introverted girl, especially around strangers, but she opens up really well around those she trusts. Unfortunately, she doesn't trust easily, and has a very good memory, often bringing up slights against her long after they've been forgotten by others. She doesn't forgive or forget easily. She doesn't think other people should forgive so easily, either, and so Em is typically kind to everyone she meets, even if she doesn't plan on becoming steadfast friends with someone. She doesn't think she can afford the luxury of having enemies. She's typically most comfortable when alone, either working on some project, or playing her guitar, which is one of her earlier ways of opening up to people. It's something she's very familiar with, and she readily shares her playing long before she shares her feelings.

When she develops friends, though, Em becomes rather protective over them. She's kind at heart, and will tend to naturally lean towards those she thinks are good people. She selects friends carefully, and subconsciously, but the people she does gravitate towards she does so strongly. She has a quiet kind of determination to her, a strength that occasionally pokes through her soft exterior.

History: Emberly Byrne's mother died giving birth to her, leaving her to be raised by her father, Damon. He handled his wife's death well, all things considered, and devoted himself to raising his daughter. Em proved to be a natural in District Three, as before too long, her room was filled with various gadgets she'd engineered out of useless bits and pieces of other things. Most of her creations did little other than look interesting, but Em enjoyed the tinkering as a hobby. Her relationship with her father was excellent; the two of them lived for each other. Em developed a small, but close circle of friends, and they've stayed friends throughout her life. More than perhaps anything else, Em was loyal to the few friends she chose.

While she was still young, an accident at a factory she'd been passing by caused a major explosion. Dozens of workers had been killed in the blast, and Emberly herself has been severely injured. She pulled through, and the scars of the incident healed, but from that day Em has always been more susceptible to loud noises. Her friends helped her through it as best they could. She went on with life, became a teenager, went through a pair of boyfriends, became an excellent guitar player, and an avid reader and writer. Her father kept on working, and it seemed the routine would never end.

That was until she was selected as a tribute for District Three for the 25th Hunger Games. Her father was crushed, but resolved to do everything he could to see her through it. He handmade her pneumatic rifle, and fashioned her a large supply of the paralysis inducing darts it would use for ammunition. He trained her in its use, and she's become quite a skilled shot. At least, when stationary. Her father's terrified, Em's terrified, but she's determined to make it back. She's got too much to live for to die like this.

Anything else?: She can reliably hit targets with her gun if she's stationary, and the target is no more than seventy-five yards away. If either she or the target is moving, her chances of hitting go down, but she's still capable of pulling the shot off.
Your reaction to being chosen for the Hunger Games: Expression. She was shocked. Em had never really considered the possibility that she could be chosen, she always assumed it would fall to someone else. Once she got over her disbelief, however, she became determined to make it through. She doesn't know what to think about living with her opponents for nine months, though. She's got it in her head that she's going to do whatever it takes to survive, but if she happens to make friends, that attitude will change very quickly.

So begins...

Emberly Byrne's Story

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Yossarian Caulfield Character Portrait: Emberly Byrne
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Yossarian Caulfield


Screw dressing up. It was only a dinner with a bunch of people he was planning to kill, anyway.

And there'd be hundreds more like before the end, right? So who really cared if Yossarian Caulfield was wearing his old red and black plaid hoodie. It was indeed the same hoodie he'd been wearing when that bitch had called out his name at the District Eight reaping. It was old, patched up by his own hand from years of wear and tear. He liked to keep around all the things that had been through everything he had. Those Capitol fucksticks had tried to take it from him on the train, insisting that he be made to look respectable. Of course, there could be no arguing on occasions such as the chariot parade (oh, if only he could have argued that one) and the interview, but other than, Yossarian wore whatever Yossarian damn well felt like wearing. The Capitol be damned, he was going to at least going to wear his own clothes for these last nine months before he died.

But the thought of the clothes debacle, and particularly the chariot attire (if Ashe kept going on about the shaved legs, Yossarian had decided he'd cook up something special for her in the arena) made him feel rather down, and Yossarian hated feeling down. So he'd worked his way to the back of the train, saying an overly cheery hello to anyone he saw along the way, and likely causing something of a disturbance to those tributes who wished to prepare for their second family dinner in utter silence, but hey, that's how he was wired. Eventually he came to a stop at the very back end, and leaned up against the window, taking a moment to marvel at the astounding lights and the remarkable speed at which everything moved by.

If the train hadn't been going so damn fast, Yossarian would have considered an escape attempt, perhaps trying to kick out a window and jump for it. But then he figured there wouldn't really be anywhere to go. He was in the Capitol now, and though District Eight wasn't so far from here (it lay along the Capitol's northern border), he felt no particular urge to return there. Memories from not so long ago came back, of the other eighteen year olds practically shoving him onto the stage when his name was called, even though he was already going. Most people there more or less despised him, and he fully deserved. Yossarian hadn't done anything to help anyone in District Eight but himself since he was twelve. It wasn't exactly the best way to make long term friends.

Although, it was a decent way to make short term ones. And since he didn't plan on getting attached to any of the people here, he figured his usual strategy would work just fine.




Emberly Byrne


It seemed like there was never anything to do but wait.

Emberly Byrne couldn't help but feel that she had terrible luck, for a tribute. The previous years had just been able to get it out of the way, a few days, and then peace. But no, she was going to have to endure this for nine months. Living with the people who were going to try to kill you. There would be so much analyzing going on, so much preparation. Plans would be laid, and then ruined, and then rebuilt, altered, torn down, built back up again. Alliances would form and crumble before they even set foot in the arena. Em herself was hoping to be able to get into one of these alliances. Alone, she stood no chance, and she knew that. But with others... well, Em was crafty, likely more so than anyone gave her credit for. If she could get with the right group, a group of strong, trusting people, she could potentially ride with them to the top.

Of course, then she'd have to turn on them. This thought more than anything would haunt her when she tried to select her allies. Of course she wanted to be with good people, people who deserved to be protected, and people who were worth fighting alongside. But were she to ally with them, she doubted she have the stomach to kill them when the time came. Perhaps it was better she try and work her way in with those she liked less. Keep your friends close and your enemies closer, they said. That was another plan.

But for now, Em would have to wait. There would be plenty of time for analyzing and strategy making later. The District Three girl sat in her private compartment of the train, gazing out the window at the landscape that flashed by so brilliantly quickly. She supposed she'd have to get ready for dinner soon, but truth be told, she wasn't feeling that hungry, nor did she intend to be the first one there. Somewhere in the middle would do. Too much attention was drawn to the earliest birds, and the latest arrivals. And Em wasn't looking to be the center of attention.

Quite the opposite, in fact.