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Pip Pypin

::ON HOLD:: I promise you, kid, I give so much more than I get.

0 · 512 views · located in Panem

a character in “The 25th Hunger Games”, as played by missjmiles

Description

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Name: Amaranth Iota Pypin
Nicknames: Pip
Age: 16
Sexuality: Bisexual
Birthday: May 3rd
District: 9 - Grain

Weapon of choice: Throwing Knives

Talent: General Survival, especially good at climbing

Weaknesses: Can sleep through practically anything (which could easily be her demise).

Hobbies: Eating! Anything and everything! Pip also really enjoys laughing and having a good time. She never really had to work hard, having grown up in a rather rich family. Pip really enjoys telling jokes and making people laugh. She's obsessed with how unique each person's laugh and smile is and made it her life goal at a young age to be very funny. She really enjoys bad jokes. She surprisingly really enjoys sewing, however "boring" it may seem to others. She's also big on cooking and cleaning, Pip maintains it's the only time her mind is ever really calm.

Likes:
~Chocolate!
~Hugs
~Laughter
~Puns
~Being Naked
~Sleep
~Boys
~Awkward Situations
~Cooking

Dislikes:
~Outdoors
~Muttations
~Alarm Clocks
~Buzzing Insects
~Clothes
~Boring People
~Being Treated Like a Child

Fears: Buzzing insects terrify Pip, as does deep water when she can't see the bottom. She is convinced there are muttations around every turn outdoors as well.

Token: A small, antique ring that was her mother's wedding ring.

Personality: Amaranth Iota Pypin doesn't do anything half-assed. She laughs hard, loves hard, hates hard, plays hard, lives hard, cries hard. Extremely outgoing and bubbly, most people would describe Pip as a breath of fresh air. She walks into a room and it generally lights up. If it doesn't, she makes it. She thrives on awkward situations and tends to coerce such awkwardness out of any encounter she's in. She loves a good pun, and never lets one pass her by. Pip will flutter from one conversation to the next with ease and leaves most people she's talked to wanting more. She loves life and enjoys all the thrills that come with it. Not fond of hard labor, she was always more content to be indoors. While she's an extremely social butterfly, she also has her quiet moments where she can be found sewing or cross-stitching. She's very talented at it and has made grand murals before that she has sold through her father at market. She also has a love of cleaning and cooking. It calms her ever-running mind down, which she is extremely grateful for. It's when she does her thinking. Besides, she loves eating, so may as well make a hobby out of it! Otherwise, she's constantly a-buzz with energy and exuberance. She is also fiercely loyal. It's not hard to become her friend, but to become her ally is a whole other task. Once you are, though, she's thick as a thief and won't ever let go. Beneath the surface, she's quite intelligent and thoughtful, but mostly she's quirky, witty, clever and just plain fun!

History: Pip was born to Parker Pypin and Isabelle Graintin. Their only child, she was showered with love and devotion. She wasn't spoiled though, she was taught how to save money and spend it wisely. Her family was very well-off, yes, but it was because of good money management skills. Due to Paker Pypin's high standing with the Capitol, he had known about The Games before they had officially begun. He hadn't had a hand in them, but he hadn't done anything to stop them either. After Pip had been born, the true horror of the games sank into him, and he began her training as soon as her mother deemed she was old enough. Pip began her training in throwing knives when she was only 6 years old, but quickly excelled. Her father had turned it into a game of it's own to be able to hit the target's bulls-eye, and Pip had queued in on the fun of it immediately. Every afternoon you could find her with her father, giggling and chucking knives like it was nothing. She became very good at it and developed a very keen, sharp eye.

In school, Pip was a joy to have in class. She constantly participated, even if she didn't have the right answer. Sometimes because she didn't have the right answer. Enjoying being in the spotlight, she grew to become a type of class clown. It brought her great pleasure to make others laugh, especially as times grew harder and the Capitol became more feared than when it was in it's younger ages. She made many friends, but only two extremely close ones: Jesh and Lua. Pip didn't care one bit that Jesh was poor and Lua would have been considered middle-class. She could make them laugh, and their laughs warmed her, so she decided to get to know them and did. The three became inseparable, an unholy trinity, they constantly played pranks on one another and on other people in the school. They loved each other as brother and sisters. Pip would make massive feasts and the three of them would sit and shoot the shit for hours, generally leading way to more introspective conversations about life and the world they lived in. They came up with new governments, old governments, ways to beat the government, ways to join the government, but all in theories. Regardless, Pip felt so strongly for her friends that she couldn't imagine a world without them. The Pypin's eventually became very close friends with Jesh and Lua's families, and great family 'reunion'-type get togethers eventually started happening bi-annually, the discrepancies between income brackets ignored.

Jesh and Pip would hold hands at every reaping, Lua standing as near to them on the "boys" side as possible. Each year, they'd celebrate not being taken by holding a memorial for their district, in private. There was yet to be a winner from 9, and they didn't see one coming any time soon. When the three of them were 15, Jesh's name was called into the Games. Pip had felt her blood run cold as Jesh squeezed her hand, kissed her cheek, then moved to the platform. Pip looked to Lua, who silently shook his head at her. They had all agreed, at a very young age, that if they had ever been called, they would go with pride and do the best they could. They would make sure that someone worthy of winning would win, whether it would be themselves or not, and they would make their families and one another proud. Lua and Pip had watched the Games in earnest that year as Jesh had made it through to the final 4. It was obvious that she had decided to favor the District 5 Male Tribute that year, and with good reason. He had been honest, caring, and had a large family waiting for him to come home. In the end, she took an arrow to the temple for him. Lua had held Pip as she cried until her eyes had swollen shut. It was the single hardest moment in her life.

With extra resolve, Pip had thrown herself at life. It now hit home how easy it was to lose. Making her father have Lua begin to train with her on throwing knives, she has become extremely honed in on her skill, and Lua has started to do well too. Late one night, she forced her father to promise he would continue to help Lua learn the skill if she would ever be taken into the games and not make it back herself. She has since thrown all caution to the wind, fully giving herself over to the person she chooses to be: the happy-go-lucky, "no sense in crying over spilled milk" type who loves passionately and lives fiercely.

Your reaction to being chosen for the Hunger Games: Expressionand then. Wait, what? Pip had actually begun to turn around and leave, confident she wouldn't be called. Just as she was leaving her name was called and she turned around, slightly confused. Then smiled, blew a kiss at the camera, and moved to the platform. It wasn't until, when saying goodbye to Lua in the private room, that Pip lost it. They talked it through, and while neither are 100% sure whether she can win The Games or not, they're both confident in her skills with throwing knives. She is excited about the idea of the Quarter Quell. She didn't tell Lua, but she's determined to keep whoever she feels deserves to win alive, whether it's her or not, staying true to the pact her trifecta made when they were 11. What better way to find out who it should be than 9 months living with your opponents?

Stylist:Matt Crow

So begins...

Pip Pypin's Story

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Lor Pellet Character Portrait: Magna Aerosta Character Portrait: Pip Pypin Character Portrait: Saffron Lockhearst Character Portrait: Keeth Diggett Character Portrait:
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I find it an extremely out-of-body experience, the knowledge that I'm hurtling past outdoor objects at a speed which would (in any other contraption) be considered ludicrous and yet, surprisingly, I feel as though I sit still. The scenery explodes and implodes from view so quickly my eyes barely have time to focus before shifting to the next onslaught of foliage. This is frustrating and makes looking out of any window quite pointless. So I sit, confined to this tiny compartment. All the riches that can be fathomed and they choose to waste it by inventing trains that move so quickly one cannot enjoy the natural beauty of our world. The luxury that is wasted... If even the smallest amount of what they spend on their grand balls and dinners could be put towards the outlying districts! I've lamented on that too much though, and what good would another entry in this journal about the disparities of our world really do? Nothing. Just the hateful musings of a young man destined for doom.


Lor sighed and leaned back, away from his desk. He tucked the pencil he'd been using behind his ear and stretched, yawning. Against his better judgement he was thankful that the pencil existed, his left hand had finally stopped carrying the signs of his writing. In Nine he'd always had to use charcoal or ink on a stick, anything that would leave a mark on a page. His penmanship was better due to this crazy luxury, true, but it was the fact that his hand remained clean that he didn't mind. He glanced out the window out of habit and a new scowl crossed his face. He'd wanted to watch the country-side, see the sights, out of sheer curiosity. The damn train moved so fast you could barely keep yourself from creating a headache if you even tried to look outside for longer than a minute. Disgusted, he pulled the pencil from his ear and tossed it onto the desk. Rising, he shut the blinds. The light outside had been beginning to darken, and it occurred to Lor that the tribute's dinner would be starting soon. He pursed his lips and looked about his room. It was the last night he'd have a room completely to himself. Sitting on his bed, he let his shoulders sag as he stared hard at the floor, going over the past few days in his head.

Lor knew he'd killed his interview, was confident that he did, but so had many of the other tributes. He wondered briefly just how many sponsors there actually were and, guessing at a number, tried to divvy them up to different tributes. He felt confident that he had a fair chance, but fair didn't keep you alive. He knew that he'd have to keep up appearances and (no matter what) never let anyone know about his deeper feelings on the Capitol and most of Panem. He looked at his journal then. If the wrong person read it... He shook his head to stop his mind from thinking that way. It was his possession, his "trinket" as it were. No one would be allowed to read it, even in the event that he was killed right off. He'd made sure to bring a new journal with him, one that didn't mention any of his family's views, but he'd been writing in it since his first train ride to the Capitol in the first place. Many of his rants about the people in the Capitol and the Games in general had already been rehashed in the first couple of pages, and could be incriminatory if found under any other circumstances. As it was, Lor felt comfortable knowing that there wasn't much worse they could do to him, he'd already been sentenced to death.

Standing, he walked over to his desk and picked up the journal. Tying it closed he tucked it into the pouch he kept around his waist, under his shirt. From now on, it was where he'd always carry the journal. Then, moving over to his closet, he looked in. A suit bag with the word "Dinner" printed on it was in the front of a row of clothing that had been tailored for him. He took it out and unzipped it. Inside he found a charcoal suit that fit snugly, but comfortably, a pair of combat boots, and an undershirt. Confused, he checked the rest of the bag. No tie, no collared shirt. His brow wrinkled and he cocked his head slightly, hadn't Silver said that all suits must be worn with collared shirts? Then he noticed a note in one of the shoes. Grabbing it, he flicked it open. He smiled as he read the four words that were scrawled on the page in such a no-nonsense hand that there was no room for a question of who'd left it:

No shirt. More Masculine.


Once again struck by how grateful he was for his stylist, he finished dressing, messed wit his hair a bit, then stood back to take in the final product. Approvingly, he nodded, then moved the blinds to get a bearing on what time it was. It was late. Time to go. He took one last moment to compose himself, then stepped out into the hallway, turning towards the dining car.

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Pip laughed boisterously as she burst from the dining car into the lounge car, a large piece of chocolate in her hand. She'd made sure to befriend the Avoxes as soon as possible, and so far had not been let down. Not only had she come to love the fact that they pretended to not listen to her (even though their silent gurgles indicated laughter at her jokes) but over the short amount of time the tributes had been on the car she'd already had 5 chocolate bars, 2 cookies, and at least a dozen fruits she didn't know the name of but was already addicted to. She plopped down onto a lush couch in the middle of the room and kicked her feet up over the back of it. Biting into the bittersweet dark chocolate again, a contented sigh bubbled it's way up and out of her system.

"Yes, this. This is defffffinitely the life!" She drawled quietly to no on in particular, seeing as no one was in the room with her. She lay there for a while, lounging. Half-sleeping and half awake as she relished in the chocolate bar, eating slowly. She finally finished it and lay, hands on her stomach for quite some time, staring at the ceiling. She was having such a good time already, and still nine months awaited! She drifted then, into a light slumber. She didn't rest for very long, though, because as her eyes had drifted closed her mind had drifted back to Nine and Lua. Jerking up-right she nearly toppled off the couch as the sadness washed over her. Lua... he'd been left behind. By Jesh and now her... And he knew that she'd do anything in her power to help the right person win, whoever that turned out to be. She felt the familiar tingle/burn in the upper portion of her nose, the warning sign that tears would soon follow.

Shaking her head, she smiled and rolled off the couch. Bouncing up to a standing position she stared at the door to the dining cart... "Hmmm do I want a donut?" Pip thought aloud, then noticed the clock hanging on the left wall of the train. "Aw! 5:30 already?" She stomped her small foot and pouted prettily, "Guess I'll wait then! It's almost dinner time..." Her eyes widening, she looked down at herself. "Woooopsie!" Giggling she took two steps backwards, then turned and began moving back towards the hallway where all the rooms were situated. Matt would have her head on a platter if she showed up to the televised dinner in her bright pink bath towel. Hurrying towards her door she nearly bumped into Saffron as was standing in front of one of the guy's doors. "Sorry!" She trilled over her shoulder, bouncing past, "Gotta get all hot and sexy for dinner tonight. You know how it goes!" Then she turned into her room.

Shutting the door behind her she went to work. She'd already successfully destroyed the room by creating different piles of "stuff" for lack of a better term when she'd first boarded the train. Really, she'd just been interested in what all the compartment could hold, so she'd gone through everything, the downfall being that Pip didn't have time nor want to put anything away herself. Thus, piles of clothing, shoes, books, things she'd never seen before were strewn across her floor and bed. Her desk was covered with all sorts of things she'd seen her stylists use on her hair and face and her bed was already torn to shreds because she'd jumped in immediately and wiggled around in it, reveling in how soft the sheets were. At the memory, she giddily tore her bathrobe off, revealing her nude body and slid into the bed again. Rolling around in the sheets she stretched and smiled, making a mental note of how wonderful this sensation would feel with another human body involved.

Catching sight of the clock on the wall Pip rolled her eyes. "6 already?" She mumbled impertinently. "Looks like I'm late, again!" She sighed, took a few more minutes to enjoy the sheets, then stood and began to get dressed for the dinner. She rummaged around in the dress pile until she found a powder blue soft thing that looked like it'd be pretty cute and still help her come off as one of the "young ones." Putting it on, she mussed with her hair, found some shoes in that pile, then knocked everything on her desk onto the floor in her mad search for lipstick to finish off her attire. Biting her lip she realized that she was now at least 15 minutes late for the dinner and decided that another couple minutes wouldn't hurt, so she ran over and snuggled up in her bed one more time, letting her hands run back and forth across the silk.

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Magna blew the bangs out of her face as she lay on her back on the floor in the middle of her compartment, her hands linked across her stomach and her legs crossed. It had been a long few days and now began the longest nine months of her life for certain. She sat listening to the lack of sound the luxurious train made and stared at the ceiling. To her surprise, her eyes focused on a black dot in one of the ceiling corners. A spider? She could almost laugh at the absurdity, I didn't know the Capitol allowed things like... oh, wait. Standing, she grabbed the desk chair and moved it over. Stepping on it she moved closer to the 'spider' and rolled her eyes. Of course. The creature had all eight limbs and the abdomen of a spider, but instead of the multitude of eyes Magna had grown accustomed to seeing on normal spiders there was one, large, subtly glowing orb in their place. She smiled ferally into it then, "Hey President Argent! Gonna watch me change?" She quickly smooshed the tiny muttation with her bare hand. "Pathetic."

Jumping off the chair, she turned and looked at her room. After unceremoniously dumping her onto the train earlier they'd stationed a Peacekeeper outside of her cabin door. A little while ago he'd knocked on it to tell her they were moving at fast enough speeds that she was allowed to leave the room, but she chose not to. Not long after, she'd listened as his boots had clunked away, probably bored with guarding a girl who wouldn't try anything. She couldn't say that she would have done things differently in her interview had she known she'd spend her last couple days in the Capitol locking herself into her room to avoid Keeth's expectant and worried stares, it wasn't in her nature to lie, but she had pondered what more tact might have bought her. Shrugging it off, she opened her door curiously and looked out. She'd only seen Keeth when getting on the train and he'd given her a look that reeked of pity and remorse. Well, he could save that for another time. In the arena maybe. No... not even there. There won't be time for remorse there and it's going to be hard enough for Keeth to stay alive anyway. She pursed her lips as fire grew in her eyes, then, thinking better of it, breathed out and let the emotion go again. Turning, she wandered off to the left, unsure of what she'd find.

Some way down the cars of the train she'd passed a clothing car, (Ridiculous), what seemed to be a car for the nail things (Mani-cures? Pedi-cures?) that the Capitol so loved, and a car full of boxes. She became aware that she was heading towards the back of the train and decided to change direction and come back. She knew what these trains entailed. She thought back to what Mr. Diggett always used to say, something about the tiniest crack in the railway causing the train to derail... or explosions due to poorly manufactured engines. For a millisecond she was worried, then realized it didn't really matter and shrugged to herself, That'd be alright.

Magna returned to the car with all the living quarters and was moving toward her door, overly bored with the train already, when a giant pillow monster exploded from the door to her left. She sidestepped quickly as a reflex and stared at the pillows. Suddenly, from behind them a head popped out with disheveled hair and wide, terrified eyes. Keeth. You idiot. Pillows won't save you against a train explosion. She rolled her eyes and pushed a finger into one of the pillows. It gave way as if it were made of clouds.

She looked at him then with disinterested eyes, "You do realize that no one's allowed to kill you before we get into the arena, right?" She watched as the fear spread afresh over his face and squelched the tiny bud of remorse before it even began in her stomach. No time or need for emotions, she turned and moved into her room, listening as he scurried off down the hall with his cumbersome load.

Sitting on her bed, she looked out the window. Her eyes unfocused and she sat for a moment, just letting the world blur by her vision. She knew she'd have to get dressed soon, show up for the pomp and circumstance of the dinner, but it was the last thing she wanted to do. The knock on the door broke her from her trance on the landscape. "Miss Aerosta, I'm here to take you to dinner." It was that idiot Peacekeeper again. She didn't respond, just stood and started to de-robe.

"Miss...?" Another knock on the door, this time a little louder. Instead of a response, she locked the door. She knew he'd wait outside, it was his Capitol duty, but at least he'd know she was in there now instead of rattling her door every five seconds. Taking her time, she mustered the energy to get dressed and do her make up. If anything, she'd at least look pretty at the dinner. What was two hours in front of a camera compared to nine months anyway? Gritting her teeth, she opened her door and looked up at him. He smiled, she stared blankly, he turned, she followed after.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Solara Brinx Character Portrait: Pip Pypin Character Portrait: Zyker Lintsy Character Portrait: Saffron Lockhearst Character Portrait: Character Portrait:
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Solara Brinx


Don't throw up. Don't thr- Solara leaned against the toilet seat as she pulled her hair from her face. This was the result of nerves that had now started taking over her body. Her mind had been to so many places on the train ride since the Capitol that she now knew that this was the start of the end. Her mother seemed to be the only thing to upset her in her thoughts, so she tried to keep her mother's face a distant memory from here on out. As she seemed to throwing up the acid from her empty stomach, she pushed the bottom at the top to wash away the disgust. Breathe, Sol. Breathe. She was becoming a hot mess. She needed to get out of this room.

Peeling herself off the floor, Sol found herself looking into the mirror that now showed a girl that could easily be broken. Be strong. The phrase seemed to repeat itself several times silently until she spoke the words aloud. It only took a few minutes to fix the make-up that had taken her stylist hours to do, but she was thankful that Hiva wouldn't notice. Now time to grab the dress that was hanging on the back of the door, she hadn't even looked at the dress long enough to know if she liked it. She had began to trust her stylist Hiva a lot. so when she had finally saw her final look, she was more than pleased. You couldn't even tell that she'd been in the floor most of the night.

Pinching her cheeks to bring color back into her face, Solara grabbed the small purse that went with the outfit and headed to the door. Feeling the cold knob underneath her hand tensed a majority of her body until she final turned it, pulling it into her room. With the door open you could only see the other side of the hall, so until she stepped out she didn't realize that she wasn't alone. Saffron. She guess that the girl had to be waiting for her other half because she was clearing in front of one of the boy's rooms. This would be a mood bringer-upper.

Slamming the door closed behind her to make her presence known, Sol spoke up towards the District Twelve girl. "Let me guess. You want to get in a quick fuck before the cameras start rolling?" Approaching the girl was the easy part, but leaving the girl was definitely the harder of the two. Solara wanted to stay to hear the girl's response, but she could honestly not care what the twelve had to say to her. Brushing past Saffron, Sol leaned in to the girl's ear so only she could hear the words that came from her mouth. "Sweetheart, they're already on. Just ask Zyker how we found out." She gave the sound of a kiss at the end, departing from the hall. She threw up a hand as a farewell, showing a little respect at least.

Making it into the room that seemed to be the destination for the dinner, Solara found herself making a straight shot for a window view. She hadn't even bothered to look around the room for fellow tributes, but she did know that quiet a few Avoxes and chefs were hard at work. Stepping up into one of the chairs, Solara crossed her legs to get comfortable because she didn't know how long it'd be before one of her tribute friends came walking in. She was ready to get in the house because in moments like this she could just go outside and get some air. Instead, she was stuck looking out the window until she was saved by conversation.





Zyker Lintsy


Zyker had been in his attire for what seemed like hours now. Winque, his stylist, had been very precise with the look he was trying to give Zyker, so when he mentioned shaving his head, it went a little too far. Now that he stood in his room though, Zyker started liking the new do that was only given to him by command that he'd get more sponsors with an arena ready look.

Zyker rubbed his head back-and-forth feeling what was left. This is how the whole Capitol will now see me as. He shook his hand as he turned on the water, rinsing his face several times. "Time to socialize." He slipped on the most comfortable shoes he'd ever worn (which wasn't saying much for a twelve), taking a last glance at his look. He was more impressed that his stylist could manage to scrub off all the dirt that had been built up from years of living in twelve. Just as he reached for the doorknob, a knock came through the door. He took a step back, hearing her voice. Saffron was just on the other side of the door. He would have normally just welcomed in her, but things were different now.

Zyker returned to the mirror for one more look over to make sure that his new hairdo would be accepted by Saffron. She had always played with his hair, so now that it was all gone he wondered what she'd think. Opening the door to Saffron, he didn't give her time to respond because he just wrapped her up in his arms. "Saffy." He whispered into her hair before moving it aside, so he could plant a kiss on her forehead. "My fellow twelve. How are you today?" He joked as he wrapped his arm around her waist, guiding her in the direction of the dinner.





OOC: I didn't mean to tag Pip.