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Hey there, this is the 1300th Hunger Games: The Decoy Games, written by me, SwimmingLion. These are my first games, so I'm gonna see how these go. I hope you enjoy, and please read everything before posting tributes. Good luck, and may the odds be ever in you favour.
Much time went by with no games, after Katniss and Peeta freed Panem from them. Those were times of great joy, wealth, and love. All the people became whatever they pleased, and that is exactly what Henry Pholomore did, who was born 567 years after the death of Peeta Mellark. He became an archaeologist, spending many hours of the day finding out about what Panem was like many, many years ago. And so it happened, he dug up a few objects, only a few feet from where President Snow's house once stood. A video tape (which contained the video that they showed during the reapings), a mysterious bowl with just a few papers left inside it, and a long peice of paper with laws of a society that once stood. No, wait. It was a decree, and it said... wait, what was the Hunger Games? It took a decade for them to finally really know what it was, and how it was done, but once they did, they fell absolutely in love with the idea of districts and children fighting to the death. And so they decreed that the districts be reashtablished, and the games continued. And so, they were done for another 1,299 years, but then the people began getting bored of the games. And it was only another month after the people cried for something new that they heard of this thing that the old society of Panem use to do: A Quater Quell! And so, they decreed that there would be a twist for the next games.
"Everyone," said President Hardling, only three months before the reapings. "We have decided on our twist for this games. Everything will be the same besides one thing. In addition to our 24 tributes, we will be putting a clone, a decoy if you will, for each tribute so that it will be more confusing. You see, when you kill someone, you will not know if they are a decoy or not. And when the sky shows the dead, that person will be included; even if they are alive, and only their decoy is dead. This could be an advantage to tributes as other tributes could think they are dead, when the tribute is in fact alive. Another twist is that even the decoys will not know if someone is a decoy or not. They will be allowed to kill tributes, but not allowed to win. That being said, if the only two people alive are a decoy and a tribute, the tribute is the winner. Also, decoys will know if they are decoys. (If there is anything you don't understand about the twist, ask below in the comments.)
Threefour tributes per person Since I have made the template simple, you will not be allowed to put a link to a tribute. There is nothing hard about the template, so you should be fine. Also, you are welcome to put tributes you have already made, just copy and paste and get rid of any unneeded info.You can put a link now, since everyone is doing it anyway. I'll leave the template JIC, so feel free to do either.
- To prove you read this, say "Dinos chomp with teeth so large" when posting tributes
- Reservations last an hour, you shouldn't need more than that, since the template is easy.
- Stay Active! You'll have a better chance of winning if you're active.
- Don't be upset if your tribute dies.
Name: (First and Last)
District: (No Capital, only 1-12)
Gender: (Male or Female)
Weapon of Choice: (One only Please)
Personality: (Please no description, only adjectives.)
Lunaii: (Inform me if you are not sure how to make one.)
Merciful, nice, quick to joke
|1F||Molta Flare||16||Battle Axe||Nice, caring, stubborn, smart||SirEatAlotSTK|
|2M||Lee Kagene||16||Knife||Intellegent, Anti-Social, bad at manipulating||Skrillsisdroppin|
|2F||Passion Fire||16||Bow and Arrow||Passionate, fiery, loyal||1Echo2|
|3M||Caliban Rweed||17||Sword||Relaxed, chill (only when high); permantley angry, uncontrollably angry (when not high)||Tehblakdeath|
|3F||Luna Tick||18||Sickle||monstourous, wild, easily angered, moody||1Echo2|
Strong, violent, fearless
|4F||Harpy Diadem||18||Sickle||bloodthirsty, evil, loud, rude, aggresive, easily angered||SirEatAlotSTK|
|5M||Wilton Meyers||15||Sword||Honest, serious, phisophical, arrogant, cocky, mocking, sarcastic||Biel1458|
|5F||Isabelle Dion||13||Blowgun||Easily Nervous, scared easily, skittish, adorable, sweet, compassionate, defensive||YourFavoriteSalmon|
likable, trustworthy, morraly sane, intellegent
|6F||Solar Motaris||12||Anything she can find||kind, sweet, secretive, naive, innocent, intellegent||The Targaryen of District 4|
|7M||Ren Almwyne||18||Throwing Knives||Passive, reserved, graceful||Happy Meadows|
|7F||Mary Smith||15||Knife||Aggressive, calm||Owen1998|
|8M||Max Muzzele||17||Sword||Strong headed, athletic, Smart||1Echo2|
|8F||Cherry Blossom||15||Spear||Seems sweet, deadly, manipulative||1Echo2|
|9M||Clover Field||18||Spear||Strict, kind, selfless, honest, brave, intellegent||Skrillsisdroppin|
|9F||Cheyanne Violanta||12||Bow and Arrow||Bubbily, Talented, Smart||Skrillsisdroppin|
|10M||Caesar Sharpclaw||15||Teeth||reckless, untrustworthy, smart, bloodthirsty||SirEatAlotSTK|
|10F||Tiffany Waxler||17||Axe||Smart, Athletic||Bookworm939|
|11M||Blakely Cork||17||Scythe||Reserved, taciturn, harsh, detached, observant||Biel1458|
|11F||Killian Childress||16||Dagger||Confident, fiery, cocky, overwrought, endearing||Happy Meadows|
|12M||Tyson McGee||16||Hidden Blade||Skittish, wary, agressive, tricky||YourFavoriteSalmon|
|12F||C.C. Jackson||18||Knife||Dreamer, annoying, clumsy, anti-social, easily angered||
Careers: Lee Kangene (2M), Passion Fire (2F), Saracen Apocolips (4M), Harpy Diadem (4F)
D1 Alliance: Inter National (1M), Moltra Flare (1F)
D3 Alliance: Caliban Rweed (3M), Luna Tick (3F)
D7 Alliance: Ren Alymwyne (7M), Mary Smith (7F)
The Smart Strong and Sweet Alliance: Max Muzzele (8M), Cherrry Blossom (8F), Clover Field (9M), Tiffany Waxler (10F)
The Big Alliance: Isabelle Dion (5F), Jayson Skeenes (6M), Solar Motaris (6F), Cheyanne Violanta (9F), Killian Childress (11F), C.C. Jackson (12F)
Loners: Wilton Meyers (5M), Caesar Sharpclaw (10M), Blakely Cork (11M), Tyson McGee (12M)
Saracen Apocolips - D4
I look all throughout my beach-side house, but it is no use. Where could the tux be? Mom will kill me if I don't wear it. She's very scary, something I admire her for. "Benny!" I call. Benny is my brother, younger than me by two years. Even though that makes him fourteen, that doesn't stop him from acting two and a half. "BENNY!" I call louder, when he doesn't answer. I hear something from downstairs, though I can't tell who it is or what they are saying. "Come Upstairs!" I yell, guessing it's Benny asking what I want.
Finally, Benny comes upstairs. "What do you want?" He asks, right before I punch him in the gut. He's wearing my tux! "Ow, what was that for?"
"Why are you wearing MY DAMN TUX!" I yell, furious.
He cowers in fear, but responds: "Mom said I should. She said that she bought you a new one. She told me to tell you to come downstairs." I push him aside, glaring at him as I do. I stomp down the stairs.
When I do get downstairs, I see my mom ironing a blue tuxedo with a red rose on the left side of the chest. She doesn't see me at first, but when she does she glares at me meanly. "What did I tell you about screaming indoors?" She scolds.
"Sorry." I mutter. She hands me the tux, and tells me to wear it. I nod, and she nods back very proffesionally. I go to my room to change, and when I come down Benny, Mom, and I head to the square. It's large, and even though it's far from the beach, it's fully covered with sand. The stage, the ground, everywhere really. I go to the check-in table to get my finger pricked, which wouldn't be a big deal except it's so fun looking at Benny sob as he gets his finger pricked. Afterwards, I go to the sixteen-year-old male section, where I stand in between a curly-haired freckled-faced kid with square glasses and a short boy with knee-braces.
I am so ready for this. I am planning to volunteer, because I want to make my mother proud. I won't even have competition because no one here will volunteer. No one has for 20 years. This is because around 21 years ago, during the Hunger Games, the District 4 male was horrifically and brutally murdered so disturbingly, no one has wanted to volunteer in this district since then. Well, until now.
After ten or so minutes, our escort hops on stage (literally) looking like she's had seventy-five cups of coffee and a nose job. Well, she probably did have the latter. She has jewels covering her eyebrows so much that you can't see that she has eyebrows, and she has two different colored contacts in each eye. Her left is hot pink, and her right is blood red. (I actually approve of that fashion choice.) She is wearing a lamb-costume made into a dress, and is wearing a bonnet over her blonde curly hair, which she has put into pigtails.
"Why hello there, District Four! I'm your escort, and my name is Caroline Benvolio. I'm so glad to be here." She clears her throat. "Now, why don't we start with the gals?" She bounces right over to the bowl, where the slips of paper have been plopped into it (hopefully randomly.) Even from here, I can see how carefully and neatly each paper has been folded. She sticks her fingers into the bowl, trying to be graceful. You can tell that this is her first time doing a reaping. She barely shuffles through the papers before she takes her fingers from the bowl, along with a single slip of paper. Again, she clears her throat, though this time the microphone catches it and everyone laughs, including me.
Her face goes blood red, the same color as her right eye.
She sighs, trying to shake it off, then states: "Harpy Diadem!" I hear a angry wail from the females section.
I see a blonde-haired girl kicking her legs in the air as four peacekeepers drag her to the stage. "No, no, NO!" She screeches, "I AM NOT GOING! I WILL KILL YOU!"
I see Caroline's face pale up, and then she says: "Is everything okay?" She just finishes her sentence as Harpy is plopped onto the stage.
"No, everything is definetly NOT okay." Harpy says, angrily.
"Oh, sweetheart," Caroline says, fake sympathy in her voice, "I'm sure tha-" Harpy has punched her in the face: HARD. Caroline has been forced to the floor, where she seems to either be dead or passed out. The crowd gasps. There are a few moments of chaos, but the head peacekeeper, Riley O'Herry, manages to calm them down.
"People, I will be doing the Reapings from here, since our escort, Ms. Benvolio, is unable to." He says, as Caroline is being dragged offstage behind him. Harpy is being held down by two peacekeepers, because she started throwing a fit after the punch.
I'm ready. I'm going to volunteer.
"Alright, the male joining this... er, wonderful lady is," He stuffs his hand into the male bowl, and takes a slip from the very bottom. Lucky guy who's being picked. He's gonna be saved by me. O'Herry pauses for a moment, clearly struggling to pernounce the name, then says, still not very confident, "Sar-uh-cen... Apoc-oh-lips...?" No... no. I WANTED TO VOLUNTEER! This can't be happening. I wanted to look brave! I wanted my mom to be proud! I don't dare look over at her. She's probably rolling her eyes, thinking I'm scared.
I stroll over there confidentally, even though I'm upset. "Ladies and Gentlemen, the tributes for this year!" O'Herry cheers. The crowd cheers back, probably happy that it's not them on the stage. After a few photos, the peacekeepers signal me to get off the stage, then they drag Harpy beside me. Harpy, however, manages to get a hand loose and uses her sharp nails to stab one of the peacekeeper's neck vain. He stumbles backwards. This catches them all off guard, and they let her go in the confusion. In just a second, she's smashed in two of them's heads, killing them, shot the vain guy with his own gun (now he's dead), and then three more with that same gun. All of them dead. All this before they manage to grab her again.
Yikes. I hope they put us on seperate trains.
Solar Motaris - D6
"Can you tie this for me, Solar?" Cleo asked softly. I nod, and as I tie the bow at the back of her dress I look into the mirror to admire how wonderful she looks when she's cleaned up and wearing something that makes her look anything but an orphan. Even though she is one. I swiftly tie it, and then she steps back to check if she looks presentable. Her brown hair has been curled carefully, and it is now flowing gracefully over her shoulders. On the left side of her head, just above the ear, is a bow, colored - only a bit faded - baby blue. It matches her dress perfectly. She is wearing a strapless, baby blue (though it is slightly less faded than the bow) ball gown dress. It use to belong to her mother, before she was sadly killed in a car accident when Cleo was only but ten. I wish I could say I couldn't imagine her grief. Her shoes, which are thankfully not at all covered by the dress, are mine. I have allowed her to borrow them as I am not using them today, but instead my other pair. They match her dress better than mine in any case. They are white, and are high heels, though they seem to be less than even an inch. Nevertheless, if they were high; I'm sure Cleo wouldn't have minded.
"You look very pretty, Cleo," I tilt my head in admiration. She smiles modestly.
"Oh, please, Solar, no one here is as charming and lovely as you," She sighs happily. "I mean, look at you." I looked down at myself. I was wearing a sea green dress, in which the sleeves only went to the end of my shoulders. The skirt part of it was not as poofed out as a ball gown, but it was large compared to some dresses. As for my shoes, they were also green; in fact, almost identical in color to my dress. My black hair is swept to one side, and has been brushed into complete straightness.
"Girls," Madame Loranzia says; sounding blissful as she does, "We must be off to the square if we aren't to be late."
"Of course," Cleo and I chirp back in unison, almost as if we were singing. We march together out of the door to the bathroom, which is filthy beyond explanation. Madame Loranzia attempts to get all 46 of us children into a straight and presentable line, failing miserabaly until she cannot fathom another second of it and omits that idea. Instead, she goes with a two person per row line, which works out pleasantly for Cleo and I. And so, we walk in that line for the ten or so minutes it takes us to walk to the center of the district, where the square has been placed.
The square is roughly the size of six small houses, though what one thinks small is due to their upbringing, but I won't say much more about the square, as I resent such a huge space for something that is used so rarely when our orphanage is so tiny in comparisson.
Cleo and I seperate for the finger pricking, something I don't mind. However, the reason this is done and not, for instance, a signature or perhaps a photo, is beyond my thought-space. I try not to cringe at the pain, though I do admit it is not something I enjoy. Of course, again, I do not mind this process, but it still hurts. Unfotunatley, while I am a young twelve years, Cleo is a year ahead in terms of age. Therefore, she and I are prohibited to stand together during this ceremony.
"My dear people, please take your places, we must begin promptly." I hear booming all around me, which barely startles me, but the very little it does sends me into a small little jump. I am next to a girl I don't know, whom stares at me curiously. I am of normal height, but compared to her; whom is no less than Five foot Five, I am a dwarf, or troll if you wish.
"What's the matter?" She asks me, tilting her head only a little.
"Oh, she just alarmed me." I tell her, being polite and casual.
"What does 'Alarmed' mean? I know what an alarm is, but, how is that an adjective?"
"Verb," I correct her, which makes her squint her eyes. Oh my. I didn't mean to anger the girl. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be rude. And to answer your inquiry - I mean question - it means startle or surprise."
"Oh." She nods, solemnly. Then she shakes her head and in seconds she is joyous once more. "By the way, my name's Tiffany."
"It's very nice to meet you, Tiffany. My name is Solar." I simper at her. She is just about to ask me something, when the sound of the escort speaking interrupts her.
"Okay, now that it has been confirmed that everyone has shown up; let us begin. Now, my name is Coco Lichia, and I am your escort. But you should know that already, since this is my third reapings for this District!" She laughs. "Okay. I'm gonna get on with the girls!" She walks sophistically toward the bowl marked "Females." After inserting her hand betwixt all of the papers, she shuffles through them for no more than two minutes, however, no less than one. Thereafter, she opens the slip with such grace, I cannot help but to envy her. "May I just say that I can't wait to work with the wonderful lady I know that this girl will be." She says, staring at the name with a grin. She sighs, pleased. "The gracious little lady I will be seeing for a while is Cleo Banks." I gasp. No way.
Cleo shuffles through the crowd, trying to make her way to the front. I can't let her do this. She doesn't deserve this. She has been the kindest, most loyal friend that I have ever - well, actually the only friend I've really ever had. I know I must do this to repay her for everything she has given to me, from the beggining to now, the end, as it may seem. I catch a glimpse of her, attempting to make eye contact. When that doesn't occur, I yell for her. "Cleo!" I call. She looks at me then, and I know she's horribly upset. I have to do this, I mouth. She shakes her head, either confused or she disaproves of my descision. Either way, I call, "I volunteer!" Again, "I volunteer in the place of Cleo Banks!"
"Ooh!" Coco shrieks. "We have a volunteer! Come on up, honey!"
"No, Solar. Please don't do this. I got reaped. I have to do this." Cleo pleads.
I shake my head. "I already volunteered."
She looks for an argument. "I'll say... um, I'll say that I thought someone else got called and I wanted to volunteer anyway. It'll make me look good for sponsors."
"Heavens no, my friend. I demand to do this for you, Cleo. You are justified in the right to live life, and you deserve to be content as well as jubilant. You've exceeded the appropriate amount of good deeds for me, and I wish to return the favor in rather large quantities." I do not wait for her to respond, and parade my way to the stage. "I am the lady who volunteered, Ma'am."
Coco smiled. "How lovely! What is your name? How old are you? Why did you volunteer?"
I answer the questions in order of how she asked them. "My name is Solar Motaris, I am twelve, and I volunteered for Cleo, my best friend. She has been through too much already, I cannot allow her to go through much else." I catch my mistake. "You see," I struggle for an excuse until Cleo gives it to me. She points to the camera, and then makes a scared face. "Cleo has stage fright."
"Oh, how noble of you!" Coco screeches in delight. "But now we must get to the boys, we are running low on time!" She skips her way over to the bowl, and then quickly grabs a single slip. "The boy is Jason Skeenes!"
Jason, after a short while, makes his way up the stage. I am unsure whether he is frightened or not. I'll just have to see, because I am in the Hunger Games with him. And this "game" is a very big commitment.
Cheyanne Violanta - D9
A smell warms the air as I wake up. It's intoxicating, and all I want to do is have the thing that makes it. This drive is the only reason I get out of bed, and so it's a good thing that the smell existed. Because as I look at the clock, I realize I have to be at the reapings in only an hour. "Oh my goodness, what-" Then I hear a giggle. Jackson. I think. He's my little brother, only 4 years younger than me, and he is very much a proud and self-claimed prankster. "What did you do this time?" I sigh.
"I turned your alarm clock off." He smirked. I don't even yell at him. I just want to eat that scent, skip all of the getting-ready extras I wanted to do, and get to that reapings. Jackson is already dressed in his jet-black tuxedo, which fits him perfectly.
I sighed again. Then I smiled, "You look nice."
"Now get out." He runs off, leaving me to get ready. My motivation to go fast is that amazing, beautiful smell. Oh, I wonder what it could be! And so, I slip off my pajamas and get my hair out from it's bun. I take a five-minute shower, slip on a robe, brush my hair, and do my makeup. Unfortunatley, I have to skip doing my nails, something I was really looking foward to. Mom says I'm too young for makeup and nails, but she's old and stuff. I giggle at that thought. Anyway, I already have my dress and shoes picked out, so I put those on. I then go brush my teeth and blow dry my hair. After blowdrying it, I decide to straigten it. I have twenty-five minutes left, so I decide not to go down the path of over-accsessorising, and just slip on a fancy watch and bracelet. I stare at my mirror-self.
My dress is purple. It has straps, but no back, and is sparkly in the bodice-area. My shoes are the same color, but are sparkly everywhere on them. They are high heels, opened toed.
I go down stairs, trying to stop myself from drooling on the dress. And the amazing scent is....
My Dad's bread. Well, I should have guessed. He does own a bread making shop, after all. "Hey, Chey-Pie. Want some bread before we go?" Dad asks.
"Sure," I say, still wanting the scent. Maybe it's a new recipe, because I've never smelt bread like that before. I stuff my face into (not literally), and realize that, in fact, it is brand new. Huh. Coolio!
"What do you think?" Dad asks, trying to hide his excitement and anticipation.
"It's amazing!" I squeal in delight. "Mmmm!" Actually, it's better than amazing.
"Well, I'm sorry Chey. We gotta go." He says, just as I'm about to grab another. "You could have more after the reapings." I nod, and we head out. That is, Jackson, Dad, Mom, Victor (my older brother by two years), and Tiffany (my older sister by four years,) and me. Tiffany is on her third to last reapings, Victor was four more including this one, while I, being twelve, am only on my first ever reapings. Jackson hasn't started yet.
We scatter once we get there. I go to have my finger pricked, and then I go to my place. Yikes. My first reapings. I'm scared, but ecstatic, which I find weird. I find myself drifting off in thought, and I don't get out of it until the escort says:
"And the lady is...." Everyone holds their breath. "Cheyanne Violanta."
Oh. It's... me?
This can't be. I don't have tessarae, and since I'm twelve.... well, I have so little compared to the eighteen years olds with tessarae.
It must be a mistake.
It is a mistake, right?
Guess not. I slowly walk over there, hoping for a volunteer, even though I know I'm kidding myself. I look over to Victor, and I can tell he'd volunteer if he could. Jackson is crying. Mom has only a few tears rolling down her face, because she is trying to look strong. Dad is shocked. And Tiffany, well, once I look at her, I know it's was a mistake to. She is having a mental breakdown over in the 16 years olds section. I hear her call, "NO! CHEYANNE!"
It's only after the escort calls, "Clover Field!", That Tiffany realizes she could have volunteered.
"I volunteer as tribute in place of Cheyanne!" Tiffany screeches. But the escort tells her she's too late. She should have done it earlier. Trying my hardest not to cry just makes me want to cry more. And so, to prevent myself from exploding of tears, I allow one single tear to roll down my left cheek. It doesn't make me feel better.
Train Ride to the Capitol
While the tributes are on the train, the President makes a speech:
"My dearest capitol, the tributes are currently on the train to this very city. I hope that you welcome them with open arms and that you are thankful that they are giving you the very first ever quarter quell since those bastards before us abolished this fabulous game! The tributes are our heroes, and don't you ever, ever forget it. You hear me!?" The crowd screams widly. "Yes, yes, yes!!!! To the Hunger Games, and all the joy it brings us! HOORAH!" There is a loud and ferocious applause.
Instead of having POVS, I have decided to draw the outfits for 2 districts, one for each gender. I hope you like them! (Don't forget to look at captions.) :D
The following is the transcript of 1 tribute interveiw.
Jason Skeenes (6M)Edit
Malfiz Leeronee (Interveiwer): Next up is Jason Skeenes of District Six!
Jason Skeenes (Interveiwee) walks up to the stage, and sits on the chair beside Leeronee.
Leeronee: Welcome, Jason! How does it feel to be in the capitol?
Skeenes: Amazing, just amazing, Mr. Leeronee.
Leeronee: *Laughs* Please, Jason. You can call me Malfiz. (Shouting to Audience) Am I right!?
*Audience aplauds* .....'*'Audience quiets*
Leeronee: Anyway, Jason. What is your favorite thing about the capitol?
Skeenes: I'd have to say my favorite thing is to see how much the Capitol actually uses District Six technology. It make me feel so appreciated. *Audience cheers*
Leeronee: How lovely! You really are a wonderful young man, Jason.
Skeenes: Oh, Malfiz! I am only half the man you are. While you are thoughtful, kind, and caring, I am only "nice."
Leeronee: Don't be so modest! You are TWICE that I am.
Skeenes: Me, being modest? No, you are exaggerating, my friend. That is it.
*The buzzer rings, signifying the end of the interveiw.*