Rules[]
- No cussing
- 2 tributes/user
- Links,profiles and templates are accepted
- No yelling when your tribute is killed.
Tributes[]
1[]
Female:
Male:
2[]
Female: Hope Vicuna
Male:
3[]
Female: Ajax Emerson
Male:
4[]
Female: Mew Windlass
Male:Delta Bourne
5[]
Female:
Male:
6[]
Female: Maco Jerzy
Male: Cario Paradox
7[]
Female:
Male: Zorin Calpe
8[]
Female: Lyra Pluto
Male:
9[]
Female:
Male:
10[]
Female: Harmonia Ava Neptunus
Male:
11[]
Female:
Male:
12[]
Female:
Male:
Alliances[]
Careers[]
Hope Vicuna (2), Zorin Calpe (7)
Anti-Careers[]
Placing[]
24:
23:
22:
21:
20:
19:
18:
17:
16:
15:
14:
13:
12:
11:
10:
9:
8:
7:
6:
5:
4:
3:
2:
VICTOR;
Arena[]
The arena is circular, with various climates, extreme in the middle. In the middle of the extreme terrain is the Cornucopia. The centre is a extremely hot desert, it getting cooler as it moves out, ticking through rainforest, urban, mountainous, a small relief of flat land and then polar. A trouble is triggered by stepping on a mine of sorts, most intense at the centre and least intense at the very edges, although some are permanent. The mines change positions each night.
Beginning: Reapings[]
Hope's POV - D2[]
Light streaks through my window and I sit bolt upright in my bed, as if some instinct had kicked in. Of course it had; today was the day of the reaping, and I was just waiting for my name to be drawn, or to volunteer. For some the games are dreaded, or at least...in the poorer districts. I am not from a poorer district, almost every parent would be proud if their child was a tribute. Thus the sight of mourning, unlike in say, District Twelve, is a rarity.
Getting changed into a flowing, glittery turquoise blue dress took merely a few seconds. My emerald green eyes flicked to it every so often, feasting on its beauty; my mother, being one of those rich people, had chosen it especially for today, just in case I was drawn- even if I wasn't I had already resolved to volunteer, her time was not at all wasted.
Grasping my hairbrush, I quickly made something out of the currently shapeless mess that was my hair. I wasn't preturbed by this, it always looked this way after I had gotten out of bed because I was a restless sleeper. Most likely, I took too long on it, because by the time I had finished with it it looked as good as if a stylist from the Capitol had done it.
After slipping my feet into a pair of tall heels, I walked into the hallway. It was almost two already, and I wondered how the hell I had managed to sleep this long. It shouldn't have been a surprise, it was the same every year. I ate some breakfast hurriedly, my bowl clattering onto the side when I heard the voices outside, racing to be part of the conversation.
The person who reaped us - I could never remember her name, was clawing around for a ball of paper. It didn't matter what it said, I was going in there.
"Yvonne Atalu!" she called. No sooner had she finished introducing her I walked forward.
"I volunteer as tribute!" I called. The woman ushered me forward.
"What's your name?" she asked.
"Hope Vicuna-" I went to continue, but she hurried on, and I felt rather irritated. She had interrupted me!
"Well, bravo for Hope Vicuna, our newest tribute!" she shouted, and as I was moved from the stage I heard raucous applause for me.
Zorin's POV - D7[]
"Zorin!" I hear my mother's voice echoing in my head, but I cannot open my eyes for they are like lead. Could it be fear? No sooner had this occurred to me I pushed it immediately to the back of my mind. It wouldn't be fear, ever. I'm too happy-go-lucky for that.
After what seems like an age whatever it was that held my eyes closed relinquished its grip, and the watery blue eyes I possess blink open. I smile, not confidently, no, just because it was either that or be terrified.
My mother is glaring reproachfully at me from the doorway, suddenly looking at the clock. I wonder what she is implying, it is only ten o clock after all, and it wasn't unusual for me to sleep past that.
A little voice whispers in my head, reminding me it's reaping day. Reluctantly, I rise from the bed, shooting a glance at my mother. That is enough for her to know I am awake and disappear.
I try to comb my hair into an acceptable shape, but to no avail; as defiant as ever to stay a mess. Eventually I managed to comb it back, just barely, a few bits sticking up that nobody would ever notice. After all, I'd given it 100%, hadn't I?
I stepped in the tuxedo my father wore to his first reaping, even though I hated him. I had been granted one more night, before the games, because my mother wanted to see me, thinking I would be turned into an Avox.
I ate the best breakfast I had eaten in a while, even though it was meagre on most people's terms, and had a long emotional talk with my mother, before we walked to the reaping.
Strangely enough it was men first - the poor boy reaped was only twelve. It came to me then, the only way to avoid becoming an Avox. I had taken a life, now I could save one. The Peacekeepers and I would be square then.
My throat was dry. "I volunteer!" I yell hoarsely, waving an arm in the air. No escort to the stage, no applause, just silent solemnity.
I had saved a life.