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I doubt I'll get any tribute templates... oh well. Welcome to the 3rd Hunger Games in my series; The Devil Amongst Us! My 2nd Hunger Games is still progressing. These won't start, or at least they won't be the highest priority, until the last cannon sounds in the arena. This is my 2nd games where I'm accepting tributes, I think I'm more experienced this time around so hopefully I'll hold these games to my potential. Hopefully if I don't come with an update every day when these become my first priority, I'll find a way so users are still active.
These games, or at least the twist of these games, are inspired. I don't want to tell you by what, because I want it to stay a bit of a secret. That's why I've only reveal the name of these games. It already gives a massive hint, so you guys can ponder what the twist is. For now, let's start from square 1.
This list may expand, so check here every few updates.
- Be aware of mature language, mild violence, and minor sexual content throughout these games.
- I'm 100% with positive criticism and tips. If there are any grammar errors/typos or anything out of sorts, just let me know in the comments. I believe that all my mistakes I will learn from and will make me a better writer. If absolutely anything is out of sorts, feel free to tell me.
- I'll update a little bit, though my 2nd Hunger Games are my first priority right now. I'll get down a PoV every now and then just to let you know these are still active, though I do need to focus on my older games for the sake of getting them done. I don't want to let the great tributes submitted in them go to waste.
- I haven't decided what I should write yet, though I will accept advice for every single PoV sector except for the actual games, when the tributes enter the arena. There will be different twists throughout the games, so your tributes advice might not follow it. I wouldn't want to waste your time like that. Also, I want to make these filled with drama and suspense, which won't be as effective if you know what is going to happen.
- No bashing others on this blog. No death threats to other users or myself. As long as you don't offend anyone, you can be as dirty and graphic as you want. >:D
Here is the template you must submit while submitting a tribute. Anything in bold must be included in the template, the rest being optional. If you want to add anything else to the template, you are more than welcome to.
Name: (A first name and surname.)
Age: (Ranges from 12 to 18.)
Gender: (Either male or female.)
District: (0-13 + Capitol.)
Personality: (List/describe character traits.)
Weapon(s): (List/type 1 to 3 preferred weapons of choice.)
Physical Appearance: (Written or photos are acceptable.)
Strength(s): (List/type a maximum of 4 strengths.)
Weakness(es): (List/type a minimum of 2 weaknesses.)
- There will be 28 tributes competing this year. Districts 1 through 13 and the Capitol will be sacrificing a male and female tribute into the games. Each user may take two tributes at most. EDIT: The amount of tributes a user can acquire will be raised to 3 on the 30th.
- This time around, I'll be stricter with tribute submissions. A tribute template should have a minimum word count of 200 and a maximum word count of 2000.
- It's first come, first serve! I am accepting reservations this time around. Each reservation will last for 72 hours.
- I don't pay attention to the quantity; I pay attention to the quality. The creativity of a tribute, something that makes me remember the tribute. A tribute with 1999 words in a template may be a lot, though it'll be worthless if you just spammed letters in each category.
- I do not go onto profiles to take tributes. Not because I think it's lazy, but because I'm too lazy to search your profile for your tribute. I will accept links to tribute pages on THGRPW, however.
- Making a successful tribute is only one step into creating a victor. There are also other criteria's that must follow, some of them you'll have no control over. Don't worry about that stuff now, the whole purpose of these are to have fun.
- Also, if I feel that a tribute is too silly, or farfetched, I'll simply reject the tribute. Didn't really have that problem last games, though I'm adding this rule for precaution reasons.
Check if a user has that tribute before reserving/submitting!
|C||Male||Scepter Mist||18||Sickle, Spear, & Knife||Hybrid Shadow|
|C||Female||Nicoline Kyria||16||Knife & Whip||VDA1999|
|0||Male||Astre Celestius||12||Meteor Hammer & Sword||TeenageDream19|
|0||Female||Synthesia "Sylvia" Velonte||16||Bow and Arrow, Scimitar||EHKnight|
|1||Male||Topaz Grace||17||Katana & Knife||Junior ii|
|1||Female||Kayla Rodriguez||16||Axe & Throwing Axes||EmpressOreo|
|2||Female||Jenna Rod||16||Whip & Blowgun and Darts||Beautiful Mistake|
|3||Male||Courage Blitz||14||Sword & Fire||Jabberjay78|
|3||Female||Yuna Besaid||15||Spear & Awl||Annamisasa|
|4||Male||Caspian Devereux||18||Spear, Knife, Sword||St.Berry4evers|
|4||Female||Brooke Bekke||15||Knife||Junior ii|
|5||Female||Xira "Zyra" Cracks||17||Fists & Poisoned Darts||OBUSMD!|
|6||Male||Cygnus Sextant||17||Dual Sword, Sabre||AxedFox|
|6||Female||Emma Grace||13||Throwing Knives, Darts, & Traps||OBUSMD!|
|7||Male||John Massey||17||Axe, Throwing Axes, Throwing Knives||Equestria Gurl|
|7||Female||Themis Asterious||15||Throwing Knives & Throwing Axes||TBWTPT|
|8||Male||Sash Bloodhound||18||Javelin, Throwing Needles, Fire||XxXMIABXxX|
|8||Female||Aurabella Kabel||15||Dagger & Axe||Eleni12|
|9||Male||Milo Amaranth||16||Spear & Throwing Axes||TBWTPT|
|9||Female||Magdalena Moonlock||17||Knife & Bow and Arrows||Eleni12|
|10||Female||Fawn Cloud||15||Sickle & Throwing Spears||Beautiful Mistake|
|11||Male||Kankri Makara||12||Bow and Arrow, Sickle, & Pitchfork||AxedFox|
|11||Female||Cassandra "Koume" Goldensmith||16||Throwing Knives & Dagger||Annamisasa|
|12||Male||Vulcan Fiametta||13||Mace & Trident||VDA1999|
|12||Female||Christa Burnstenn||16||Scythe & Knife||XxXMIABXxX|
|13||Male||Ice Hunts||17||Sickle, War Scythe, & Crossbow||Hybrid Shadow|
|13||Female||Claire Roussaeu||14||Spear & Dual Sword||EmpressOreo|
Alliance adjustments are allowed any time before group training ends and any time after the games commence. If tributes are still left in the undecided category after group training starts, I will make commitments personally, most of the tributes going into any avalible alliance.
Topaz Grace (1), Kayla Rodriguez (1), Legend Mystical (2), Brooke Bekke (4), and Scepter Mist (C) [Pending].
The Fighters; [Open/Private]
John Massey (7), TBA
Alliance 1; [Private]
Nicoline Kyria (C), Synthesia "Silvia" Velonte (0), Fawn Cloud (10), and Claire Roussaeu (13).
Alliance 2; [Private]
Yuna Besaid (3), Vulcan Fiametta (12), and Ice Hunts (13).
Alliance 3; [Private]
Cygnus Sextant (6) and Aurabella Kabel (8)
Jenna Rod (2), Emma Grace (6), Themis Asterious (7), Sash Bloodhound (8), Milo Amaranth (9), and Cassandra "Koume" Goldensmith (11).
Astre Celestius (0), Courage Blitz (3), Caspian Devereux (4), Zac Watt (5), Xira "Zyra" Cracks (5), Magdalena Moonlock (9), Chrome Spade (10), Kankri Makara (11), and Christa Burnstenn (12).
[Open] means that this alliance is open for members, and that you can join freely.
[Private] means that this alliance is private, and you must ask permission from the users in order to enter. Your tribute must get confirmed by at least half of the alliance before you join.
[Open/Private] means that this alliance is open for members, however there is an initiation you must pass in order to proceed into the alliance.
[Pending] means that this tribute requested to be in this alliance, and is seeking permission.
Will be announced as the games progress.
The Capitol - Nicoline Kyria
I rise out of bed to the sniveling of my guardians, who still can't get the recognition of Cashow out of their clenches. After hours of subsequent wailing, my parents never seem to understand that sobbing will not change the fact that he is dead. I scrunch my eyes in anger, after being put through hours of the cruel mockery that my parents desire their dead son over their very well living daughter. I always knew that my parents praised Cashow over me, though I know this "crisis" has gone over the deep end when my parents start to hoard all of Cashow's possessions in his room for the sole purpose of the memory of him.
That brute was a no good senseless beast anyway. I just wished I could have a kind and generous brother, not a brother who would stab me in the spine with his own crimes. If I receive respect, I'll return the favor eagerly. However, once you've purposely tortured me countless amounts of times, I'll hit you back ten times harder. Now, Cashow's dead corpse is buried ten feet underground, imprisoned in a casket, where he may never torment me again. Call me whatever you want; I don't care. I don't negotiate with terrible people like him; whoever has held a sin for too long becomes the servant to the devil.
I unsubstantially tap my bedroom door open, cautiously walking down the corridor, passing the room previously occupied by Cashow, now occupied by my grieving parents. I wonder if they can recall my existence. I slide down the spiral stairs, stretching my arms as I walk into the kitchen. The butler of the house smiles at my presence.
"Good morning, mademoiselle!" He greets me eagerly. "Do you have any requests for breakfast today?" I sit myself at the kitchen table, cupping my palm into my cheek. The family butler has already given me more contemplation than my own parents.
"A bowl of soup will be fine, thank you." I whisper quietly.
"Yes, ma'am." The butler cheerfully answers, disappearing into the kitchen tending to my request. I rest my elbows against the countertop, sighing. I succinctly glimpse towards a clock resting on the wall; I've already overslept and have about 2 hours to arrive to the reaping's. I would've set an alarm if I could locate the date on the calendar; but the page is cluttered with scribbling and arrows pointing to the day when Cashow died, courtesy of my parents.
A humid bowl of soup is placed in front of me. I take a small savor of the fine liquid, although emitting a fine taste upon my taste buds; the dish's appearance is bland and plain. Just as blank and barren as the relationship my parents have with me. I hear a buzzer go off; the family butler rolls up his sleeve and checks his watch.
"Oh! Madam Nicoline, we shall be attending the reaping's soon!" He exclaims. "Run along now, I have a few chores in the house I need to take care of. You'll definitely see me there later." I rush to the restroom, tugging on a drawer knob, giving me a vast selection of make-up products. After applying foundation, eye liner, eye shadow, lipstick, blush, and contouring, I take a curling iron and start curling my hair. After burning myself multiple times, I've finally prepared a look good enough to wear at a wedding.
I arrive at the front entrance, deciding I don't want to catch a ride of some sort. Although building up a family relationship is always a good thing, I would never trust my parents to pay any attention or affection to me. The last thing a daughter wants is to be deprived by a guardian who she can trust, instead focusing their assurance to a deceitful bully. I walk across the sidewalks of the Capitol, observing my surroundings. Some passing bystanders give me a friendly wave as I pass by, though the majority of the crowd just stops to stare. I just keep my head down, not making any form of communication until I arrive to the town square.
I blend in with the crowd already assembled at the plaza, getting my blood drawn. I camouflage myself within my age and gender category, hoping that the reaping's will desist so I can disappear to the confines of my home. Our Capitol escort appears on the stage; his memorable fashion taste is too bizarre to forget. However, the Capitol's fashion trends never suited my style. He doesn't seem like a cruel person, and his appearance compared to other residence doesn't make him stand out too well.
"Hello, everyone! I am pleased to be hosting the Capitol reaping's for another year! My name is Habacuc Mirza and I will be your escort this year." Habacuc hollers. The crowd praises him; I join in the applause just for the sake of being polite and not standing out. I've never really liked these games, though I'm not going to risk my life just to express my feelings.
"There aren't any revealed twists for this year, though I'm sure that may change! Let's start by electing our female tribute!" Habacuc says excitedly, digging his hand into the reaping bowl filled with thousands of ballets. I can't help but feel a little apprehensive, though I know the odds of me being picked are slim to none. I'll fly through the reaping's and I'll be able to continue on with my life.
"Nicoline Kyria!" Habacuc announces, his voice ringing through my eardrums. The agony is indescribable; my limbs are immobilized and my vision is blurred. I can hear the mocking cackle of Cashow from the vault of hell, tauntingly snarling at me, anticipating my death in the arena. After my mind dazes of for a moment, Habacuc announces my name once more, snapping me back to reality. I brush my bangs over my face, slowly approaching the stage with my face staring at the ground. I cannot divulge piteous emotions; I'm stronger than that. I step onto the stage adjacent to Habacuc.
"Our male tribute representing the Capitol is..." Habacuc alleges, sticking his hand into the reaping bowl. "Truman Calogero!" A helpless juvenile looks up in horror, his shining, misty, cerulean eyes glistening in the sun. He tries a similar tactic as mine, hiding his eyes by brushing his shaggy, aqua hair over his face. The little boy is having a hard time dealing with his future until what you could say his martyr comes to his aid.
"I VOLUNTEER!" Two eager eligible residents bellow. Two potential tributes step out from the end of the audience. One pushes another out of their way, stepping forward and walking towards the stage. The audience starts to cheer and clap, though I pay attention to the abandoned volunteer standing at the end of the crowd. He looks down on the ground, a flare burns in his green, snake like iris'. He sprints to his challenger, flipping him over in one instant movement. The audience goes silent, but not in a bad manner. The slightly injured teen stumbles away, while the conquer emerges victorious, revealing an ominous grin. Habacuc grins along with him. He extends the microphone over to his mouth, ready to say something, until the volunteering tribute plucks the microphone out of his grasp.
"My name is Scepter Mist and I am your next victor!" He says confidently, along with the crowd's support of cheering and hollering. Habacuc laughs, taking the microphone away from Scepter, so he can conclude the reaping. Scepter stands alongside me. Scepter undoubtedly towers my size. He has long, grimy, shamrock green hair tied in a short ponytail. He has many scars, noticeably one along the spine and another across his cheek. His left eye is covered by an eye patch and I'd rather not find out why.
"Ladies and gentlemen, our Capitol representatives, Scepter Mist and Nicoline Kyria!" Habacuc cries. The Capitol citizens applaud once more, as Scepter (C) and I are forced into the Justice Building. Immediately after being thrown into the room, a Peacekeeper locks the door behind me. I think of escape, fumbling with a window, only to realize that the window frames have been locked to ensure captivity. There's no use in escaping. If only my martyr had approached to take my place. Not like my life here is already any enjoyable, though once I turned to an adolescent I could have claimed it my own. One thing for sure is I don't want to go down with a fight. I rest on a leather couch provided, waiting for visitors. The only thing is I haven't received any company; the room vacant excluding me. Not even my own parents sacrificed their time to spend what could be final moments with their remaining child.
I clutch my fists together, with an ignited flame of hatred burning in my soul. Once again, I'm left and forgotten. A dead corpse has over ranked me in importance. I guess murder is a bit too drastic, though despite being the victim of everything I would be punished. Not like I murdered him though... I just murdered someone else and placed the blame on him by playing his own game. I've always received the short stick in life, as if I've been put under a cataclysmic curse. I sit alone, letting my mind stress to the brink until I hear the click of a door opening. My senses shoot my head up. A visitor for me?
"Hey, Nicoline." He says casually, trying to brush away the drastic events that occurred. I recognize him immediately. He is the one that has ever bothered to care. We don't talk often, though he is the only one that understood the pain I'm going through without experiencing it. I look up to him as the caring brother I've never had, he is truly the only person I am able to trust.
"Zane!" I cry, running into his arms. He's taking a bit by surprise, though wraps his arms around my shoulders too. I wish I could stay by his side; he offers an aura of protection.
"I don't know what to do..." I admit. I feel a few tears streaming down my eyes, but I don't care.
"Don't give up yet... this isn't the end yet." Zane assures me, setting me down on the leather couch. "You're smart, definitely smart enough to escape." Zane digs into his coat pocket, revealing a golden necklace with a golden chart resembling a heart.
"I bought this as a gift for my mother for her birthday, though I was never able to deliver this to her due to her..." Zane gulps, looking for the right word. "...passing. I've held this very near and dear to me. They allow one token that you can take into the arena to remind you of home. Now, I want you to have it. Would you wear it?" He asks me, adjusting the necklace around my neck. I take a closer look at the necklace. Now having a closer look at the jewelry, the beads are mere pyrite, though the heart charm is solid gold. Nevertheless, the necklace unleashes the confidence I've never had, as if a part of Zane is confined inside of the burnished heart, assisting me with protection.
"It's beautiful." I remark. "I will, I promise." We hug once more, until we're interrupted by a Peacekeeper.
"Time is up." The Peacekeeper sneers, grabbing Zane by the arm. I reach out for Zane, until the door is abruptly slammed shut. Shortly after, another Peacekeeper retrieves me from my room, instructing me to follow him. He leads me out of the Justice Building into a refined limo already occupied by Habacuc and Scepter (C). The car ride was very long and silent, giving me the time to scan my mind for strategy tactics. As the limo turns into the train station, the three of us unload from the vehicle.
The shuttle immediately pulls into the station, the speed of the train making wind blow through my hair. The shuttle doors open, revealing fine luxuries that even surpass the mansion I live in now. I take one look at the necklace Zane had given me, locking in with the golden heart. Looking closely, I can see a mere reflection of Zane's glowing smile, despite not being imprinted into the charm. My smile shines brighter than the sun, knowing that as long as I have this necklace, I will always have the comforting aura of Zane by my side. I step into the compartment; the shuttle doors close and the train speeds away from the station.
District 0 - Astre Celestius
I’m resting at the peak of the summit, with my bonnet tucked over my eyes. The vapors forming in the sky brush against my cheeks, soothing my mind and purifying my soul. The lustrous crystallized water falls between my fingertips. My hand rises into the atmosphere, releasing the snowflakes free to drift through the celestial sphere, slowly evaporating into the various vapors forming in the sky. To me, this is my sauna. The subzero temperatures in the summer tundra is my geothermal heated groundwater from a hot spring.
When District 0 reunited with Panem, our youth is now at risk of the Hunger Games… including me. For now, I’m trying to relax my subconscious and let my troubles soar further into the galaxy. I don’t think the Hunger Games are the absolute best punishment, but since the Capitol is home to the overlords of our nation I’m sure they have the sense to think before dispatch laws. I have faith in the Capitol, that the Hunger Games will just be a phase in an era, slowly forming into a nation of equality and rights. I still show respect for the Capitol and the decisions they’ve made; I have hope that the Capitol will soon keep the violence to a minimum after time and Panem will be known as a welcoming monarchy.
My eyes drown in the light after the light sound of bells alerts me. I pull the millinery from my head to see my mother waving a set of chimes, trying to get my attention from the side of the summit. She is divulging information, though from our distance apart she is inaudible. I sprint down the mountain slope, observing the snowy terrain slowly fades to frigid grass. Luckily, my residence remains in the pinnacle, giving me a vast view of District 0.
“Astre!” My mother hollers as I arrive to the front entrance. “The reaping’s start soon! If we arrive there, maybe you’ll be able to see your father there!” My father is never around, always working. I’ve heard before the second rebellion, civilians from districts were given the day off. However, in order to be forewarned about defiance, laws and jobs have been more punishing than ever. I rarely ever see my father since he works until dusk, immediately setting off to his job early dawn. I’ve always kept my distance away from my parents; nevertheless, seeing him for a mere 5 minutes would make my day.
I rush through my chamber, throwing on my most paramount apparel. Most youth would find the reaping’s petrifying, though being twelve I’ll only have slip in the reaping bowl. My chances of being elected are minuscule, so why distress over something that is impractical? I unhook a necklace I’ve been cherishing for years, keeping alongside me all of my life. I’ve found luck in this pendant for years; all my sensational childhood memories were shared with this very charm wrapped around my neck. Surely, this necklace will provide me with reassuring confidence during the reaping’s. With this, I can believe I nearly guarantee my invulnerability.
My mother summons me to the front entrance once more. With that, we take off to the reaping’s. Living on the side of a mountain results in a tiring, speechless hike, though eventually we reach flat lands where we then fluently traipse to the plaza where the first annual reaping’s will take place. The district square is delirious with citizens crowding the area, blocking visibility of your own two feet. My mother and I agree on a spot to meet once the reaping is brought to a conclusion. Afterwards, we disband and I dig my way through the crowd of District 0 residence.
I reach a counter where a lady with a clipboard and zapper asks for my finger. I reach my index finger out to her, where she riotously stabs my finger with the zapper. Although only poignant for a short period of time, a scar is left where my blood was seized.
I escort myself to my age and gender category, looking up to the stage waiting for our escort to emerge. The escort is somewhat bizarre, though from the rumors spread around at my school I’ve heard of worse fashion sense from the Capitol. He dyed his shaggy, messy hair navy blue with crystal white highlights. His midnight blue eyes swirl in a whirlpool formation. His skin is paste white, making his astronomy themed attire stand out. I guess I can understand why he was elected to be the escort of District 0.
“Welcome District 0, to your first ever reaping’s! I am Corvus Vulpecula and I will be your escort until the next quarter quell. Today, we’ll select one lucky man and woman to compete in this year’s 3rd Hunger Games! With District 0 added into these games, these games will truly be heart throbbing, I can feel it! Let’s start of by reaping our first tribute!” Corvus initiates. Corvus reaches his hand into the bowl, stirring the slips and randomly searching for a slip. After what seems to be a decade, Corvus extracts a ballet from the reaping bowl. He holds the slip up high in the air, leaving us in anticipation and self-preservation.
“Synthesia Velonte!” Corvus cheers. A tough looking girl steps up from near the back of the assembly. She has messy, average lengthen onyx black and dull emerald hair. Her skin is very light, making her pure jade eyes stand out. She looks like someone I would never cause dilemma with, though she also looks like someone I wouldn’t feel troublesome around. She positively will provide dispute in the Hunger Games, I think District 0 already has provided a potential victor. Synthesia steps up to the stage, looking into the cameras bitterly.
Corvus then walks across the stage, extending his arms into the bowl. I can’t help but feel a bit nervous, though I distract myself by trying to locate my father within the crowd of citizens attending the reaping’s. As I finally locate my father, I smile slightly. My grin slowly fades to a frown when Corvus announces the male tribute, modifying my future for eternity.
“Astre Celestius!” Corvus praises. My heart sinks, the residence of District 0 gasp as they see a twelve year old emerge from the crowd. Keep calm; it’s not over yet. I force myself to repeat in my mind. I won’t allow myself to surrender yet, The Hunger Games won’t control my existence on this planet. My mother cries in anguish; my father locates her and attempts to console her, but his struggles are futile. I look down, with my crescent shaped charm around my neck. The silver glimmers once in the sunlight, sending a coat of sheen reflecting off sun rays. I clinch onto my prized possession with all my might as I walk up the stairs and step foot onto the stage.
“Ladies and Gentlemen, Astre Celestius and Synthesia Velonte, our tributes from District 0!” Corvus screams into the microphone. The crowd stays relatively silent, only erupting with a bit of applause just for the sake of it. I reach out to shake Synthesia’s (0) hand, where she hesitatingly does so.
“Nice to meet you, Synthesia!” I greet her, trying to be friendly.
“Call me Sylvia. All my friends call me that”. Synthesia (0) responds somewhat welcomingly.
“What’s wrong with the name Synthesia? I think it’s a lovely name.” I reciprocate.
“No. Call me Sylvia. Synthesia is a stupid name, just like every other name given to the children of District 1.” Synthesia (0) gnarls in a stern tone. A Peacekeeper grabs Synthesia (0) by the arm, informing her to report to the Justice Building. Synthesia (0) rips her arm out of the Peacekeeper’s grasp, though stubbornly follows him into the Justice Building. I’m summoned shortly after into the Justice Building, where I am padlocked in a room, awaiting for my last guests.
My mother comes bursting into the room, with my father trailing behind. She cloaks my body with her arms, shedding tears uncontrollably.
“You have to escape! You have to win!” My mother pleads and begs, clinging onto my ankles in a desperate attempt to prevent me from turning into a proxy under the Capitol's control. Although I share my respect with the Capitol, being subjected to a gladiator crusade doesn't exactly suit my taste. I'd rather accept my fate than commit a sin.
"It's okay. Don't worry about me; I'll be fine. I'll find a way out. I promise." I console her, patting her back. Her sorrow comes to an end; she brushes the remaining tears away with her hands. My father seems to be in a mental state of shock. He rests next to me, his hands are trembling and his face flushes dull pale. It's as if his heart is draining faith, his soul slowly rotting until all hope is lost. My father was a cheerful, soulful man. Now, any pleasure in his body had been charred to cinders.
"Alright, but you have to win. You don't need to be strong to become a victor, you just need good tactics. Run from the bloodbath, don't ever look back. Stay hidden until the games come to a close. You're fast, you can run, just maintain food and water supplies and you're set. Maybe, just maybe, you can win. Please, you're my meaning on this planet. I don't want to lose you..." My mother declares, firm yet pessimistically, erupting in regret and sadness once more.
"I'll try my best. I'll never give up, even when hope is astray." I assure her. "You should do the same. Stay strong; don't let the games break your spirits. Even if I don't come back, that's no reason for you to surrender. No matter what happens, whatever is projected on that screen, you need to fight through it. Don't let my dismay affect you, you still have a purpose-" I'm cut off by the creak of a hinge. The door opens and a Peacekeeper stands in the doorway with a piercing look.
"Time's up." He gnarls with his arms folded. Despite the command, my mother continues to weep on my shoulder and my father stares blankly towards the floor. In a fit of resentment, the Peacekeeper lunges towards my parents, carrying each one of them by the shirt collar.
"Astre!" My mother cries, locking hands with mine. The Peacekeeper forces away the grasp between my mother and I. I'm abruptly left in silence as the Peacekeeper slams the door shut, leaving me in grief. My sanctuary slowly achromatizes into my holding cell, trapped in a never-ending nightmare with no escape, prompting me with misery until I completely lose all humanity I have left. However, I'm unbreakable. There's no sense in feeding the fire, sobbing will only send me plummeting to failure. Rebelling against the Capitol is meaningless; warmongering will only result in the downfall of Panem. I may not be strong, or intelligent, though my mental state will never get the best of me. A confident outlook will get me far; determination is all I'll need. If I'm going to survive, standing for the Capitol is the brightest thing to do. A positive outlook will illuminate the stars, guiding me through the pathway of triumph. And that is exactly what I'll do.
I exit the Justice Building, smiling at the Cameras that monitor my every movement. Synthesia (0) and I hop onto a vehicle along with our escort Corvus designated towards the train station.
"Syn- err, Sylvia?" I say for the purpose of breaking the silence. "I'm sorry for what happened earlier-"
"No, I'm sorry, for snapping at you." Synthesia (0) interrupts, exhaling before continuing. "I just wanted to come across ruthless in front of the Capitol audience. Just a heads up, I'll probably continue the act whenever we're showered by those annoying Capitol paparazzi." She chuckles, as we pull into the terminal. As predicted, a swarm of Capitol reporters. Synthesia (0) stomps out of the car, pushing me aside as she marches towards the train station. I recall what she had said earlier, tagging along behind her.
A shuttle speeds along the train tracks, two sliding doors accelerate through slots. From my angle, I see a bunch of Avox's in fine suits ready to tender to our needs. I feel pity towards them, but who knows what illicit behavior they've committed? I step onto the train, staring out the window as we rapidly race away from District 0. I take one last glimpse of home before returning to my dorm, prepare to settle my fate. My time on this planet has not come to a close; I know I still have a purpose in life. This is my time to prove it.
District 1 - Kayla Rodiguez
I jolt up from my bed, traumatized by my past that has invaded my dreams. All of those years of being bullied have left a permanent blister in my vitality. Even after redeeming my spirits, fragments of reminiscences continue to leave me in an agonizing state. I will sometimes wish that the premonitory memory could evaporate within thin air, disappearing from existence.
I slump out of bed, dragging my feet along the corridor. My only company is the family kitten, who immediately leaps from her bed and leans on my calf's. Both of my parents diligent to their occupations, I never get to see them. I've never built a healthy family relationship with my parents, though I always know they still love me. However, not too long ago I most of my nights sobbing due to the tribulation I receive from the traumas of bullying, hugging a nearby cushion with nobody there to support me. The cat trots away and continues to claw at the den curtains.
The reaping's are taking place today; one of the only good things about District 1 is that I don't have to worry about being sacrificed into a gladiator match for the sole purpose of entertainment. I'll never forgive the Capitol for such an inhuman, savage punishment turned into a yearly event. Luckily, I'll only be eligible for the reaping's for two years after this, then all I will have to regard is showing up and my possible future children's safety. It's impractical to think that in District 1, participating in a violent purge is considered honorable, though at least it insures my safety. I'd never think about volunteering myself, unless the well-being of a friend was at risk.
I don't think about looking spiffy for the reaping's, a quick shower and some decent clothes is all I prepare before heading to the center plaza. Although dressed suitably, I'm still the odd ball out of the various citizens scattering the streets, heading towards the reaping's. Every citizen I spot is caked with make-up, wearing their most expensive outfits and acquiring their most valuable jewelry. I receive awful glares from a handful of people, as if my fashion choice will permanently blemish the district with infamy and disgrace. I hide my face, staring at the ground as I walk towards the reaping's.
As I am heading towards a stand where a lady clenches a zapper, I feel a jolt charging me forwards. I regain my footing, but not until I'm surrounded by the hoodlums that have a crack at tormenting children for laughs. The ringleader of the pack immediately confronts me and evaluates my appearance.
"I see you've dressed for the occasion." She snickers mockingly, flicking my forehead compelling me to stumble backwards. Her clique laughs and snorts hysterically at her arrogant insolence. Their unsophisticated sense of humor still baffles me. I would never excruciate another for the welfare of my prevalence. I don't display emotion to my aggressor; I've learned from my mistakes. I let all despondency wash away from my face, in hopes that my intimidators will eventually lose interest.
"Oh! What a pretty necklace!" The girl exclaims, ripping my pendant from my neck. Before I can acknowledge the current events, the girl restrains my necklace from my grasp.
"Oops..." She snaps sarcastically, purposely slamming my golden charm necklace to the ground. Upon impact, the golden charm rolls into a nearby dirty, smoggy street puddle. I sigh as I reach to retrieve my necklace. A great massive force launches me to the ground, taking in a mouthful of filthy groundwater, designated by no other than the arrogant girl who stands overtop of me.
"Stop it. Right now." A voice barks. "What she wants to wear is her own fashion preference; you don't stand at any level to judge her for it." I look up to see Reyna approaching the menace and her gang with her arms folded. I'm surprised how affective Reyna's technique worked; she is relatively popular though I'd never imagine a simple assertive sentence would be enough to ward away the group. However, judging by the girl's facial gestures I'm sure I haven't seen the last of her yet.
I clear the muck and sludge eyelids, scrubbing away the putrid debris from my face. My denim jeans are clammy and pasty and my blouse is frizzled and drenched. However at the moment, that is the least of my current disputes and I couldn't care less. I just want to get the reaping's done.
"Oh, are you alright?" Reyna asks concerned. "You're covered in muck..." She reaches into her handbag, withdrawing a few linen hand cloths.
"I'm fine." I assure her, rolling up my arm sleeves. "Let's just get to the reaping's." As we both proceed towards the reaping's, the tension on my shoulders evaporates. Despite the circumstances of today, Reyna somehow manages to make me grin. I can commemorate the day we became friends, she fought for my rights against those that tormented me for as long as I could ever remember; I've had a positive outlook since.
We both proceed towards the reaping's, getting our blood drawn and shoving our way through the mob of people. Bystanders distinguish me in particular; all of District 1 has presented themselves in their finest clothes while my blotchy outfit seems to act as a repellant. I'm receiving nasty glares from the audience as if I was a leech to the district; as if my garment would throw the district into shame and disgrace. I ignore the onlookers and stand beside Reyna. We linger for the escort, who eventually emerges behind the curtains. His fashion choice is consubstantial to mine; except by his eagerness it seems he literally dipped himself in groundwater on purpose. Of course, because of his higher rank in authority, nobody bothers to address his ensemble.
"Welcome, District 1!" Digby exclaims in excitement. "It is time to elect two participants to participate in the 3rd Annual Hunger Games! Going by the rule, we'll start with the ladies." The crowd immediately falls silent. Psychologically, we'll have a volunteer; that's the routine every year. However, I can't relieve the anxiety streaming through my veins. The piercing feeling all the other outlying districts feel when reality hits them and they've been reaped. I'm lucky to be living here, in a district where competing in this pageant is an honor. Otherwise, I'd be in much trouble. Even then, I still drive myself to train for these games for the unlikely occurrence I may possibly be reaped. These games strive to bloom the worst in people, I just want to take safety precautions for the impossible to happen.
Digby extends his palms into the reaping bowl; even the Mocking Jays restrain their singing in remembrance of this moment. He twirls and spins his hand through the thousands of ballets. Suddenly, with a sharp movement he plucks a ballet out of the bowl and raises the slip towards the atmosphere. He carefully unravels the slip, pausing before reading the name.
"Reyna Grande!" Digby proclaims. I immediately spin towards Reyna, shock filling her system. Oh no. I'd rather anyone else but this girl. In trepidation, my hand immediately shoots up. I'm not too sure if anyone else volunteered, but I'm not desirous to take risks.
"I VOLUNTEER!" I holler. Digby and I exchange glances before he motions me to join him on the stage. I cautiously traipse past the crowd, planting my feet on the stage. I observe the crowd to locate the bitter and slightly infuriated girl who had tormented me previously. I completely overlooked that she anticipated volunteering this year. I'm assuming she's 18; she won't get another chance like this again. Despite being caught in controversy with her, I wouldn't have volunteer for the purpose of setting her off; she knows that too.
"Now, it's time to select our male counterpart." Digby announces, trotting to the opposite end of the stage. I diverge throughout my thoughts, scanning the crowd. I locate a distraught Reyna, still rubbing her eyes with her shirt sleeve. I can sense this isn't what she wanted, though I'm predisposed to protect her; she's acted as a responsible role model that surpassed my parents.
"And there we have it; our tributes of District 1! Topaz Grace and Kayla Rodiguez!" Digby screams, interrupting my train of thought. Out of nowhere, a tall, mighty guy, who I'm assuming is Topaz, leaps onto the stage. He corrects his posture before reaching out to shake my hand. I squint, doubtful of my next actions until a camera flash blinds my vision. I'm being viewed by an audience of thousands; I'd better make them like me, I think. I return a smirk, reaching out to shake his hand. Suddenly, he tugs my hand forward and plants a kiss on the bottom of my hand. Not knowing how to react, I stay quiescent.
After the crowds praise dies, Peacekeepers hustle me into the Justice Building. They forcibly smash the door hinges shut, leaving me to anguish in melancholy alone. In what feels like a matter of seconds I had made the transition of District 1 citizen to victim on death's row. Despite the circumstances, I'm surprisingly taking my reaping better than perceived. I'm glad my anxiety forced me to train for the games; all that is required is a bit of luck and I'll strive for victor's throne.
My parents burst into the chamber moments after my arrival. They don't insinuate to express despondency, if anything they're beaming with elation.
"Oh, my baby has finally volunteered!" My mother cries, lunging over to me. She integuments my waist with her arms, compressing the humanity from my spine. It's absolutely sensational to see my parents consoling me during a time of need.
"I always knew you'd do it!" My father states confidently, patting my shoulder. "I've always hoped for the day to see my daughter on the Capitol screen!" His propitious pat in my perspective is a condescending strike to my self-conscious.
"You know what to do." My mother lectures me. "Join the career pact. Bring honor to your family and district. You only have one shot at this; you can't let us down now." I struggle to restrain my resentment towards my parents. They aren't the most supportive pair, but I've finer expectations for them. This could likely be my definitive parting and they only accommodate their dearest, idolized desires. During my concluding moments with my "warmhearted" family, I've been preferred over their delusional fantasy.
"Time's up." A Peacekeeper coldly scorns, interrupting my parents arrogant boasting. My parents unenthusiastically comply, not even bestowing a second to deliver their last departing words. Their apathy and insatiableness refrains any acts of compassion from their stone-cold hearts. After nearly a decade of being threatened and persecuted, I manage to retain emotion. I cannot expose tribulation or desolation; sorrow is seen as weakness in the Capitol's perspective.
Reyna bolts into my vault, neither possession negative exterior expressions, seemingly recovering from recent events. She appears pleasant and faithful, unlike my obdurate parents. She greets me eagerly by embracing me tightly.
"You forgot this..." Reyna stammers, as if having secured a predicament. In her palms is the golden charm necklace. I must've abandoned the pendant after that rogue devil confiscated it. She blandly adjust the necklace around my neck. Her arms are discernibly trembling, comparable to an alarm clock erupting on a bedside chiffonier. Afterwards, she proceeds to fiddle with a strand of black, attenuate thread between her fingers.
"You seem better now. After I volunteered, you didn't take it so well." I state, disintegrating the silence.
"Well, that's because I've not lost hope yet." Reyna remarks. "I shouldn't let faith drift away. You still have a chance. You're so strong, so smart, so brave, I know you can do it. I believe in you." Reyna's encouragement flickers an aura of determination and perseverance. Her statements are accurate; I shouldn't relinquish my beliefs. I still serve signifigance to Panem. Now's my time to corroborate my privilages and freedom. Suddenly, a draft blasts throughout the vault. A Peacekeeper impatiently taps his foot by the entrance.
"No!" Reyna bawls, as the Peacekeeper wrenches her by the wrist. "You have to win!"
"I will!" I exclaim, as Reyna vanishes from the hollow chamber reluctantly, pounding the door sealed. "I promise..."
District 2 - Legend Mystical
I'm tampering around in the sewers, where the atmosphere reminisces of The Black Hand, the organization I've devotedly been an assassin. I'm glazing my serrated, ebony horns with a debilitated, begrimed tablecloth. I've deprived over six hundred idiots from their worthless, pathetic existence with my beauties. My essence on this planet frames around vanity and irascibility. I'm a forsaken shadow cast upon an everlasting abyss. Compelling others to stumble into my continuous eclipse brings pure satisfaction. I've found an eternal sanctuary in the Cimmerian shade, where regret nor remorse ceases to prevail.
As I'm recapitulating another horn polish, the clatter of sandals echoes off of the sewer corridor. Soon, excessive wheezing follows as a dim projection of a child descends down the channel. His face flushes with apprehensiveness, as if being hunted. I promptly spring into the shadows, devising a scheme to slaughter my prey. Once he's in arms reach, I lunge towards him, sending him plunging to the stone brick floor. A snap can be noted, followed, developing a crimson sap ooze from his nose. He squeals in terror, extricating the clot and clutching his hip. Decrepit, he crawls away in an imprudent attempt to withdrawal from death. I smoothly yank the boy by his polo collar, striking him into a clay column.
"Please!" The feeble child pleads. "I've already suffered through torture that's indescribable! Please, let me go and I'll never tell anyone about this place!" I quickly examine the pest, to find numerous blisters and scars. If I flounder to defeat him now, he will surely succumb to infected injuries. Beads of sweat trickle his forehead, his steaming face chills.
"Please..." He cries once more. I masquerade a scene and contemplate my actions before driving a horn through his neck. His head gleams violet as he's savagely asphyxiated by his own blood. A viscous rose fluid streams through his lips. He cringes as his tear-stained eyes gradually revolve behind his head. I angle my head, jabbing another horn into his eye socket. The nearly defunct minor refrains from resisting as his skin dulls. I mitigate my grasp from the cadaver, his optic nerve descending from its corpse. His eye droops from its cord, dangling over the foul sewer excrement. A sole, distinct invertebrate slithers into his eye, declining down the optic nerve, leisurely consuming the dead carcass. Gratified, I haughtily march away, vanishing in the depths of the caliginosity.
TBC. Hmm. This will definitely take a while. I'm not too sure what to do. :/
Also, since only the people that actually read the reapings get to know, I may be going on vacation. Really, there are huge gaps inbetween updates anyway xD. However, I'll save all the tribute templates and user comments on a word document, and continue the reapings whenever I have spare time! <3
I forget when I'm leaving though... sometime after Saturday? Meh.
District 3 - Yuna Besaid
Arena - Sarah Ann Island
Sarah Ann Island; the Phantom Island of oracles. Some consider the island to be the Devil's Portal from the underworld to the surface. All information of this island is overall uncovered, surreptitiously concealed in an invisible coat from the world. This island suddenly appeared in the depths of the ocean, in an area unidentified in naval charts. Its discovery was a pure coincidence, was never meant to happen. This island was left vacant, a smart move by the human race. However, during another search for the island to observe an eclipse by astronomers went astray. Luckily, its precipitate evanescence was never thought twice, said island was quietly removed from global maps without a debate nor discussion.
The isle was left untouched after, its mysteries were never disclosed until the global disaster. Tsunamis and Tidal Waves soon lead to evacuation. Several survivors of the epidemic washed up onto the shores of Sarah Ann Island. Nobody knew how this was possible and nobody knew where they were. Little did they know there was a reason for this to be happening. Overall, the castaways abandoned on the island were one of the few survivors of the collapse of civilization.
A democracy was formed; despite the lack of resources the remaining survivors conducted a stable ministry. Great sources of vegetation were available at this haven, rapidly increasing development in their society. After a quarter of a century of progression in humanity, Sarah Ann Island was finally turned into a safe environment. Settlers didn't have great technology like they do in the Capitol and some of the districts, though Sarah Ann Island's pioneers built a tribe with equality and egalitarianism; something Panem has never accomplished.
One of the head rulers of the nation soon settled down and started a wealthy family. He had one daughter named Sarah Ann, named after the very isle. Sarah Ann was a very innocent with a generous, upbeat personality. The perfect daughter most would say, she was familiar by all of the civilians living on the island. She was destined to follower her father's footsteps to be monarch and keep peace and balance to humankind. As she aged and grew, disconnection from other civilians was slightly notable, as she slowly began to isolate herself from others.
The prophecy of Sarah Ann Island being the Devil's Portal from Hell was in reality true. A savage, vulgar creature without any physical shape or form rise from the underworld as a spirit. Despite not having any physical definition, its powers could slowly overrun the whole galaxy given thousands of light-years. However, its soul job was to protect the island from intruders. When the isle was disrupted, the sprite would any immediately annihilate any trespassers. However, firstly, this ghoul needed a host, a body to corrupt into its own. This spirit chose Sarah Ann, giving her a few years to age before taking over.
Brain waves were transmitted into Sarah Ann's mind, causing insanity and delusion. Eventually, she snapped and reached a point to where she became bloodthirsty. She swiftly took the life of her father, concealing his clot and gore into a glass beaker. His death didn't go unnoticed; Sarah Ann was soon convicted of murder and was lynched in the town square, spectated by all civilians chanting for her death. Her corpse was drifted into the sea, letting her carcass rot in sea. The phantom inherited Sarah Ann's body; she reanimated and slowly made her way towards the coastline. With the sprite's added strength, Sarah Ann's corpse became nearly invincible, craving blood at all costs.
Within less than a week, each remaining citizen of Sarah Ann Island became a victim of the massacre. Each villager was slowly and especially painfully slaughtered until nobody remained. Sarah Ann Island was put under a never-ending curse, only put to an end when the corpse was diminished, along with the phantom. Sarah Ann's corpse was carefully preserved and finally put to rest. However, once another outcast steps foot on the island, Sarah Ann's corpse will rise from the dead and obliterate any uninvited visitors.
Soon, with the Capitol's fine technology, Sarah Ann Island was soon rediscovered once more. The Capitol summoned a force field around the isle, preparing the isle to be the arena of the 3rd Annual Hunger Games. The disruption of the spirit took place, now Sarah Ann's carcass resurrected back to life, prepared to show the Capitol the most brutal Hunger Games ever witnessed by Panem.
The beach isn't the greatest source of vegetation, unless you're able to purify the ocean's water. Nevertheless, the beach makes a great campsite. Despite not having the greatest natural resources in this area, this'll cause tributes to repel. However, tributes will be vulnerable to attacks, being visible and out in the open.
Some of the island has signs of human society. A village that makes up about a sixth of the island is near the core of the area. However, the village has shown signs of natural decay, since the suburb hasn't been colonized for years. Most of the supplies remaining in log cabins have been fished out by the gamemakers, to make survival extremely challenging. However, the log cabins do provide a source of shelter, but chances are the majority of tributes who discover this metropolis will immediately settle. Also, tributes who reside in this village will put themselves at a stronger risk of being attacked by the stronger, reanimated corpse of Sarah Ann.
A small stream is located in this arena. The tide is located on the opposite side of the Cornucopia; a day's walk is required to reach the stream. This current will be the only major source of clean, fresh water besides bloodbath supplies, sponsor gifts, and other vegetation in the arena. Those who don't have the knowledge of collecting plants will most likely immediately pursuit for this river.
The island mainly consists of a dense, tropical forest. This will be a main source of nutrition if tributes choose to not loot supplies at the initial bloodbath. Many mammals also claim this jungle as their habitat, which can also supply a source of meat if hunted. Some animals are very vicious as well poisonous, tributes will have to be careful whilst trekking the forest. Some pathways have been cropped to make travelling more accessible.
Finally, the various mountainous terrains complete the island's mysteries; the summit has been forever left undiscovered besides the Capitol. The pillars remain at the center of the island, separating the Cornucopia from the only purified water source in the arena. Tributes may choose to either walk around the mountains, which will further increase their travel time, or risk trekking the mountain ridges. The secrets of the mountain range is left unsolved, whatever lies in the surrounding caverns goes beyond imagination.
In the arena, tributes may not always have supplies in their grasp. Thus, the Capitol has allowed sponsors, where Capitol citizens are given the opportunity to send supplies to a tribute of their choice, which will enhance their chances of surviving. Users will automatically be allowed to sponsor tributes that they own. Any remaining slots can be used to sponsor other tributes of their choice if requested. Each user will be obliged to choose 3 tributes of their choice to sponsor, which will help tributes function throughout the arena.
If you're sponsoring a tribute you don't own that isn't currently dead, users will be allowed to swap between tributes whenever they want. Each user will start off with $500 in sponsoring money, which may vary depending on prize money won. If you run out of sponsoring money for one tribute, than you'll just have to cross your fingers and wait, unless your tribute gets a kill. Each kill your tribute gets will earn them an extra $50, if they're still alive. When switching between tributes, money will transfer; no money will be reduced or added.
Anyone can sponsor; even Wikia Contributors and users without tributes in the games. If you don't have any tributes, that doesn't mean you can't participate! To sponsor, just post in the comments who you would like to sponsor, and when the games commence, what you would like to send your sponsor. There is an items list where you can choose what to give your tribute and its price. If there is an item you'd like to send not in the sponsors list, just request that item being added and I'll consider.
Blanket - $25
Coat - $25
Matches - $25
Tarp - $50
Tent - $100
Food & Water:
Bread - $50
Canteen - $75
Dried Fruit - $50
Dried Meat - $75
Toast - $25
Spile - $125
Soup - $50
Water - $50
Bandages - $25
Adhesive Bandages (50) - $25
Antidote - $75
Burn Cream - $75
Epic Toast (Instant Relief) - $400
Iodine - $75
Rubbing Alcohol - $50
Neosporin - $75
Poison - $75
Sunscreen - $25
Arrows (12) - $50
Axe - $150
Awl - $100
Blowgun - $100
Bow - $150
Crossbow - $250
Cutlass - $175
Dagger - $50
Darts (10) - $25
Death Stars (8) - $100
Dual Sword - $325
Hatchet - $150
Javelin - $150
Knife - $75
Katana - $175
Kopis - $175
Mace - $150
Meteor Hammer - $175
Pitchfork - $150
Sabre - $175
Scimitar - $175
Scythe - $175
Shuriken - $100
Sickle - $100
Slingshot - $100
Spade - $175
Spear - $175
Steel Ball for Slingshot (15) - $25
Sword - $175
Trident - $250
Throwing Axes (3) - $250
Throwing Knives (3) - $150
Throwing Needles (12) - $150
Tomahawk - $150
Inactivated Explosive - $350
War Scythe - $175
Wire - $25
(Empty) Backpack - $25
Compass - $75
Detailed & Labeled Map of the Arena - $200
Fishing Hook - $25
Floatation Belt - $150
Gillnetting - $125
Goggles - $25
Net - $50
Night-Vision Glasses - $200
Plastic - $25
Raft & Paddles - $175
Rope - $25
Sewing Needle - $25
Wire - $25
Italic items cannot be found in the arena.
|User||1st Tribute||2nd Tribute||3rd Tribute|
Cassandra "Koume" Goldensmith
Synthesia "Sylvia" Velonte
Xira "Zyra" Cracks
Bolded tributes belong to the user.
Italic tributes don't belong to the user.
Green tributes are living.
Red tributes are deceased.
Blue tributes emerged as victor.
Yellow tributes evacuated from the arena safely.
In the Capitol, citizens bet on tributes and their positions. Any accurate betters then receive money for their bids. It's a way for the Capitol to get involved with the games and to build anticipation. Here, users will predict the top fifth; any accurate estimations will receive sponsoring money in the next games in the series in return. To bet, post in the comments what you think the top fifth in these games will be.
You don't have to bet your own tributes; you can bet any tribute in these games! However, all sponsoring money won will only be valid in the next games. This was a bit of a situation in my last games, but in the event where there is more than one victor, you'll only have to predict one of the victors to receive sponsoring money. Any co-victor will not be considered as a runner-up. In other words, in the scenario of a joint-victor, you'll only need to guess one of the victor(s). However, it's a common tradition that one victor is crowned, so you can only predict one victor.
In these games, there are a total of 30 tributes. 6 tributes will place in the top fifth; therefore, you must predict the top 6. In the comment section, predict the top 6 tributes. You'll be allowed to switch between tributes whenever you please, until the first cannon in the arena sounds. Afterwards, bids are set and all you can do is cross your fingers and hope for luck. All users and Wikia Contributors will be allowed to place bids, however, Wikia Contributors will not receive any sponsoring money one unless they've a confirmed account. I'm sorry, though I have my reasons.
If a user correctly predicts a tribute that places in the top 6, that user will earn $50 in sponsoring money. If a user correctly predicts the position of a tribute that placed in the top 6, that user will earn $100 in sponsoring money. Overall, $500 can be earned in sponsoring money for the next upcoming games in the series. The record of the greatest percentage of sponsoring money earned so far is 10%, earned by ViniciusDeAssis1999 and ~PopTart~. Let's see if someone can beat that record!
|User||1st Place||2nd Place||3rd Place||4th Place||5th Place||6th Place||Money Earned||Percentage|
|EHKnight||Yuna Besaid||Courage Blitz||Scepter Mist||Themis Asterious||Topaz Grace||Synthesia "Sylvia" Velonte||$0||0%|
|EmpressOreo||Nicoline Kyria||Yuna Besaid||Scepter Mist||Synthesia "Sylvia" Velonte||Kayla Rodriguez||Themis Asterious||$0||0%|
|Hybrid Shadow||Yuna Besaid||Scepter Mist||Themis Asterious||Cygnus Sextant||Topaz Grace||Courage Blitz||$0||0%|
|Jabberjay78||Astre Celestius||Scepter Mist||Aurabella Kabel||Themis Asterious||Caspian Devereux||Vulcan Fiametta||$0||0%|
|Junior ii||Scepter Mist||Topaz Grace||Nicoline Kyria||Themis Asterious||Sash Bloodhound||Brooke Bekke||$0||0%|
|TBWTPT||Themis Asterious||Chrome Spade||Yuna Besaid||Cassandra "Koume" Goldensmith||Scepter Mist||Vulcan Fiametta||$0||0%|
Green tributes are living.
Red tributes are deceased and did not place in the top fifth.
Yellow tributes placed in the top fifth, but not in the accurate position.
Blue tributes were successfully predicted in the accurate position.
Purple user(s) are currently leading in the greatest percentage of points.
Pink user(s) have broken the record of the highest percentage earned by the previous leaders.