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Hunger Games

Dice System


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@Jannah @fandom-in-reverse @Kimiwriter @Socio @CreativelyPerfect

It’s Reaping day. Everybody dress to impress, it’s required.

When you arrive to the ceremony you are ID’d and told to stand with the rest of your age group. The District Governer, Town Mayor, and your districts escort are already on stage. The Victors are slowly taking their places. Before long the ceremony begins.

Your district escort steps up to the microphone.

“Welcome! Welcome!” Your district escort greets the gathered crowd sounding very upbeat and cheerful. “Happy Hunger Games! And may the odds be ever in your favor. Now, before we begin, we have a very special film brought to you all the way from the capital.”

On a large screen somewhere near the stage a video plays showing pictures of ruins and loss as a faceless male voice delivered a speech to the gathered crowd.

“War. Terrible war. Widows. Orphans. A motherless child. This was the uprising that rocked our land. Thirteen districts rebelled against the country that fed them, loved them, protected them. Brother turned on brother until nothing remained. And then came the peace. Hard fought, sorely won. The people rose up from the ashes and a new era was born. But peace has a cost. When the traitors were defeated we swore as a nation we would never know this treason again. And so it was decreed, the various districts of Panem would offer up in tribute one young man and woman to fight to the death in a pageant of honor courage and sacrifice. The lone victor, bathed in riches would stand as a reminder of our generosity and our forgiveness this is how we remember our past. This is how we safeguard our future.”

When the video cuts off the escort steps back up to the mic.

“I just love that part! Now, the time has come to select one courageous young man and woman for the honor of representing your district in the 74th annual Hunger Games. As usual, ladies first.”

The escort pulls a name out of each the male and the female bowls. Did you get reaped or did you volunteer?
Last edited:


New Member
Valentino Salvatore First Husband Father.jpg

Valentine's day started out as usual, with a hair-of-the-dog Bloody Mary in the wee hours of the morning after waking up from another arena nightmare. He gets nightmares every other time he falls asleep still. Before, in the first few years after his game when they came to him every night he got so afraid of falling asleep that he only way he could was to drink himself stupid and the habit stuck. He does stay sober, or rather perpetually hungover during the day, but the only time he doesn't drink at all is during the games so he can keep a clear head for his tributes. He goes to get dressed after watching the sun rise from his kitchen window, putting on simple but undeniably expensive clothes, linen and silks in natural off white colors and leather shoes and jacket.

When its time to leave he walks out of Victors Village with his wife and youngest son, Farro. Avena, his oldest isn't coming because she's on bedrest with twins on the way and Rye, the middle child, is … well he's been doing his own thing for a while now and doesn't come to visit any more. Val waits with his wife while Farro checks in and then goes to take his place on stage. After the Capital Propaganda is played and the names get called Val is horrified to hear his own son's name on the escort's lips. Before he realizes he's moved he's snatching the paper with his son's name from the escort's hand to verify for himself that its the truth. It is.

And then there was a voice among the boys in the crowd.

HP: 120

Silverius doesn’t look like he’d amount to much physically at the moment. He was skinny and lanky, all knees and elbows, having just hit puberty. But don’t let that fool you, he’s just as strong as anyone else having worked with heavy wood most of his young life. He had a pretty, freckled face, the bane of his existence because people continually comment on how feminine his features are, and kind of shaggy, straight light red hair. He’s due for a haircut but never got around to it before the reaping, so he did his best with a pair of kitchen scissors in the bathroom mirror to clean up around his face. It ended up being slightly uneven but it was no better than his mother could do for him so he accepted his fate of having perpetually slightly uneven hair. He was dressed in a faded and worn green button down that brought out his eyes, off-white pants, and the best shoes he could find in the house that happened to be tan but showed signs of being darker once. The shoes only kind of fit, being a whole size too big for him it was the best he could do. He would rather have his shoes be too big than too small and make him walk funny. They didn’t have the money with so many mouths to feed to buy brand new shoes, or clothes for that matter, for any of the kids when they would no longer fit the same year because they were all growing so fast, so all he had were hand-me-downs from well meaning neighbors.

Once dressed and brushed and cleaned to the best of his ability he stopped in the main room of their small house where his sick brother, Peregrine or Pip for short, usually slept on the old couch. The boy was 6 years old and sleeping now. Sil pet through his hair, Pip was his only sibling who had the same red hair as he did-his father’s red hair, and whispered his goodbye knowing that Pip wouldn’t be able to make it to the town square to see him off. He had been talking with Pip in secret on and off while the boy was awake about his plans and today was the first day he could act on it. He wouldn’t get another chance until next year and by then it might be too late.

He was soon out the door and on his way, walking down to the town square with his mother and some of his siblings, bringing them all would be too much for his mom all by herself. His stepdad couldn't be there because was assigned to work that day. He made sure to hug them each tight before he got his identification verified with a small prick to his finger and a drop of blood on a spreadsheet next to his name. Before he was aware he moved he was standing in amongst the group of other 12 year old boys. He made sure to position himself near the aisle so he could more easily make himself known when the time comes. His palms are sweaty and his shirt collar feels too tight around his neck as he looks around curiously and waits with everyone else for the ceremony to start.

Before long all the victors are present and kids accounted for. He ends up standing with a group that were lottery picked to represent their town a few miles away. When the escort steps up to the mic everyone goes silent. The escort makes their small speech with overly bright words and the video plays. The crowd stays uncomfortably silent the whole time waiting for the names to be called and this all to be over.

The girl that gets called is a name he doesn’t recognize, must be a lottery kid. She looks to be around 16 maybe 17 and is built like a house. His name doesn’t get called, instead a boy, a man really by the looks of him so this must have been his last year, silently walks up to the stage sporting a full beard, white shirt and kaki pants. When the escort asks the obligatory question about volunteers Silverius hesitates a moment, the escort about to move on before he raises his hand. Everything stops. Everyone stops. And then an uncomfortable murmur starts up. District 7 doesn’t get volunteers, especially any so young. It takes him another moment to get his voice to cooperate with him-for the most part- and get the words out as loud as he can manage without screaming wordlessly.

“I volunteer!... I volunteer as tribute!”

His voice cracks half way through the word volunteer, both times. A camera somewhere zooms in on him and throws his face up on the screen. Immediately he can hear his mother’s crying and his siblings’ confused and worried questions over the dull lull of the crowd. No going back now. He doesn’t have to push his way out to the aisle, the other boys part for him in stunned silence as if he were diseased. As soon as he’s in easy reach Peacekeepers flank him and walk him up to the stage. By now most of District 7 has seen and recognized him as his father’s oldest kid, the son of the 54th Hunger Games Victor-Forrester Hamlin, as well as realized his motivation to volunteer. His brother has been sick for over a year. Everyone knew about it but no one was willing to help beyond throwing around hand-me-down clothes. Unbeknown to Sil, the President had told the other victors to shun his family because his fathers death was seen as un-honorable because it was at his own hands. The rest of the district simply followed suit.

Silverius stared accusingly at every victor that meets his eyes. His father was one of them. They could have helped, should have offered help in honor of one of their own. But his family got nothing but scraps after his father passed. Once on the stage he attempted to shake hands with the boy that got reaped but the other didn’t budge, just stood there in shocked silence looking suspiciously close to tears. The Peacekeepers eventually dragged him away and he stood with the escort who was asking him to introduce himself. He did with much less bravado than when he volunteered. It was like the world slowed down for a while. He did it. He had actually volunteered and it worked. He was in. Now he just had to stay alive. "M-My name is Sil-Silverius Hamlin." And now the whole country knew, or would know as soon as the recap was aired with all the commentary by whats-his-face, the announcer guy that does the interviews.

The goodbyes were harder than he expected. After being taken to the train station and given a room and ten minutes to get it over with. His mother slapped him as soon as they were alone for being so stupid and immediately hugged him, apologizing profusely. He hugged each of his siblings that came to the reaping and was given a cedar wood beaded bracelet as his token. Cedar was his favorite aromatic wood. Not long after he was being escorted by Peacekeepers to the train.

Strength: 17
Dexterity: 14
Constitution: 12
Intelligence: 13
Wisdom: 13
Charisma: 13


Thorn Commonhill
District 9

Thorn barely listened as the film played and the escort chattered away into the mic. It wasn't like he needed to see it again, they played the same damn film every year, and his mind was already preoccupied. It was such a simple plan but it could still go wrong. Meadow's name could be called and he would be left to take care of their little girl on his own, which also meant going back on his deal with every family in the district. But they couldn't blame him for that, right? Or it could be his name drawn out and no one would need to take in little Maize. Sure some of them would probably help Meadow out, but they wouldn't need to stick around and give her food or fuel.

He held his breath as the escort read off the girl's name first. Not Meadow. He couldn't bring himself to feel bad for her as she stumbled up on stage; he hadn't even paid too much attention to who she was. Another guilt to worry about later. As the escort moved to the other bowl, Thorn felt his heart pounding against his rib cage, a deafening rush in his ears. He thought he might pass out. What the hell was he thinking? District 9 never volunteered as tributes. He could have worked harder, taken longer shifts, maybe even steal some of the grains from the mill for them to eat. He could have made it work.

The escort took forever to unfold the thin slip of paper, step closer to the mic and read out "Farro Roosa."

His breath rushed out of him. It wasn't him. He was safe. He could keep quiet and deal with the consequences. But favors were important and he couldn't risk not being able to provide for Maize just for another year of safety. Licking his lips, Thorn stepped out from his age group. "I volunteer." The world went quiet around him. A Peacekeeper had to prod him forward to get him moving towards the stage. He didn't resist. Once there, he looked through the crowd to find Maize, wearing a little dress with faded flowers on the skirt, sleeping in the arms of a trusted neighbor. Meadow stood with her age group, a hand over her mouth to keep herself from crying. He'd told her his plan, they'd fought about it, and he'd stubbornly stuck to it. Maybe he should have kept quiet.

Swallowing, he only vaguely realized he'd muttered his name to the escort. He refused to look in the crowd for the boy whose place he'd taken, or to look for the Roosa family. The only thing he could do was focus on Maize who stirred as the reaping came to an end with all its usual fan-fair. They led him away, still in a daze. Maybe all of this was a nightmare and he'd wake up soon. Instead, they put him in a small room to wait.

Meadow and Maize arrived a few minutes later. As soon as they entered, Thorn ran to them and hugged them. He realized he was shaking.

"You idiot. How could you do this? How could you be so freaking stupid?"

Thorn shuddered but tried to force a reassuring smile. "It's going to be okay. The Roosa's are well off; you'll probably get some really good food and some pretty clothes." It all sounded pointless as he said it, but he had to focus on something other than what lay ahead of him. When words failed him, he took Maize in his arms and gently rocked her, kissing the top of her head. "You be good for your mama." He shuddered again. How had everything gone so wrong so quickly? Meadow let him hold her until the ten minutes were nearly up. She took their daughter from him before giving him one final kiss.

"Don't let them see you cry. Don't let them know you're scared." She hesitated before tearing a small strip from the hem of Maize's dress and pressed it into his hands. "Give them hell."

"That's your specialty."

They parted and Thorn was suddenly aware of the crushing sensation in his chest. He closed his eyes, letting his breaths hitch and hiss through clenched teeth as he counted to ten. It was part of the game. Everything from here forward was the game. He didn't open his eyes again until the Peacekeepers come to take him to the train station. Thorn barely nodded to the girl as they were forced onto the train. He glanced back once as he tied the strip of fabric around his wrist.


Hazel Locktree
District 10

Animals didn't care what day it was. Once a routine was established, they expected it to be followed. Feed once the sun came up, fresh water, a quick health check, and then out to pasture to graze the day away until supper. Added to the chores was the egg collecting, milking the cows-- it was easier to keep a few dairy cows ever since the games-- and then cleaning the barns. On any normal day, Hazel would be up and out the door just as the sky turned pink from the rising sun. It was a game between her and her father; who would get out there first, who could complete the most chores first, winner got to choose breakfast and loser had to cook all the meals that day. But today was the reaping. The day that Hazel hated more than any other day. She lay in bed well past sunrise, leaving her father to tend to the animals. He understood. He never complained about it or asked her about the nightmares. He'd watched the games, he knew why.

Finally, Hazel rolled out of bed and moved through her room, still far too big and extravigent for her liking. Why couldn't the Victor's Village have any practical houses? She quickly showered and got dressed, ignoring the stylish gown that had been sent to her for a simple summer dress. Nice but practical and not something that would get more people talking. Her district already talked enough about her, about her chosen isolation, about her trips to the Capital; her clothes could at least remind them that she was one of them.

Once dressed and her hair brushed out-- she skipped the make-up-- Hazel left for the reaping. Part of her was glad she didn't have any siblings. Watching kids be chosen for death year after year was hard enough, she couldn't imagine what it would be like if it was a brother or sister. Taking her place on stage, she chose a spot somewhere above the crowd's head and just listened. It was always the same. Annual Hunger Games, blah blah blah, Capitol propoganda, blah blah blah, odds in your favor, blah blah, yay new tributes. She dispised all of it but she played her part, smiling and clapping when appropriate. It honestly didn't matter what impression the tributes gave during the reaping, she'd get to know them during the train ride, and she already had a pretty good idea of what to expect after. It was all pretty routine by now.


A sinnamon bun

  • Philomena Stal
    District 2
    It was a tradition on reaping day for Philomena to watch the sunrise from her bedroom window. As child it was in pure excitement for what the day would provide, it was barbaric when she really thought back on it but that had been all she knew. Reaping day used to be a day where those in district two would celebrate the brave boy and girl who volunteered their life away for glory. Back then it always seemed like an honor to participate in the games, to celebrate the relative peace the Capitol allows them. Nowadays, she couldn't help but scoff at the idea as she leaned against her window sil. The sunrise no longer meant a day of celebrating the glory that would be brought to the district but mourning the choices that two children who didn't know any better would bring on themselves.

    She had no idea how long she found herself staring before pulling away from the view as she heard voices and laughter downstairs. She smiled to herself as she started to get herself ready, at the very least her children were still blissfully ignorant to the reality.

    It hadn't taken her long enough to shower and brush out her hair, styling her hair in a neat bun as she placed beautiful silver hair comb at the base. She made her way to her closet pulling out the outfit her stylist had sent her a week earlier. She breathed a sigh of relief at the fact that her stylist actually listened to her and finally stopped sending her gowns year after year. It was a bit simpler than normal but it wasn't anything she couldn't make glamorous. She wore a simple yet classy red silk blouse cut in a way that would show off cleavage but not a distracting amount followed by a pair black dress pants and black stiletto heels with red soles. She followed up her look with two silver bracelets on her wrist, a necklace and a pair of earrings. She quickly done her make up before heading down the stairs, finding her children and her husband waiting at base of the steps for her.

    "Took you long enough, I almost started to send Persephone after you," Her husband teased kissing her cheek as she made it down. She couldn't help but chuckle as she brushed past him.

    "Well let's not be late on my account, hm?" Philomena said with a soft smile as she grabbed her daughter's hand and headed out door with her family to the reaping. It took almost no time at all for them to make to district square. She gave both of her children a quick kiss on the cheek, handing Persephone off to her father. She gave them a quick wave as she watched them blend into the crowd with the other spectators. One day she would have to prepare them for their own reaping, and have them trained for the inevitable. One day they would be in the crowd with the rest of the children their age fighting for a chance for glory. At least right now however, her children were safe with their father and that all she could as for.

    She made her way to stand with the other victors, picking a spot where she could somewhat see her family. She stood as the same old propaganda film played again and again with a her most manufactured smile on her face as she listened halfheartedly, only clapping with the crowd as the video ended and the escort announced it was finally time to send two children to their deaths. Philomena straighten up as she watched the crowd with slight interest, which two idiots were throwing away their lives this year?


Crazy Cat Lady
Buck Pitwood, District 10

Year after year it was always the same routine: gather up every child in the District to take in the Capitol's propaganda before two were whisked off to their certain deaths. It was all randomized, but Buck knew that this year the odds were hardly in his favour. He was up to his nose in Tessarae, but what had truly been his options? Simply allowing his large family to starve? Some decisions were difficult, but they were necessary. Life in Panem was full of moral dilemmas. It was simply the way of things. Today was no different as the children of the third poorest District began gathering together in the Square. As was the usual routine of things at least two of them would possibly not be returning home. Buck only hoped to not be among them.

The odds were not in his favour, however. They were rarely in the favour of anybody in District 10. In fact, Buck could hardly even recall the last time they had managed to procure a Victor. Did they even have one present today? The boy began to scan the stage, searching for any signs of their Victor who would soon be doomed to mentor yet two more children to their deaths. It was cruel, but did the Capitol truly put a limit on their cruelty? For most, it was hardly even something that occurred to them at all. Not when it was a reality so ingrained within the daily lives of the average civilian. It was only on Reaping Day when Buck paid it any heed at all himself. The Capitol propaganda hardly helped his case either. It was always the same video, one that left him wondering if anybody actually believed it at all.

At least the Capitol seemed to.

Buck rolled his eyes as the Capitol Escort began to speak. She was a flamboyant woman outfitted in many colours, undoubtedly the latest fashionable pallet back in the Capitol. Rumours suggested they hardly worked at all, leaving it no wonder that they were left with a significant amount of free time to outfit themselves in outrageous fabrics and styles that were not even remotely practical. How the Escort even managed to walk atop the stage in her heels without stumbling was anybody's guess. It certainly left Buck bewildered as he caught sight of her. She approached the first of the transparent glass bowls, the one containing the names of every eligible girl in District 10.

It was the smile the Escort bore as she pulled the first name that left Buck truly sickened. Basking in our deaths. What else is new? He thought as he clenched his fist in anger. Struggling to survive almost daily had made his morality into something rather flexible, but murder of other people's children was a low that even he did not dare sink to.

Murder of other people's children.

The prospect of everything the games entailed had a way of echoing through Buck's head. He knew the routine well after having been forced to view it year after year, but what was it like to actually participate in it? That was a question he hoped he would never have to answer, but it seemed that rarely anybody in Panem ever had their way. No, it was President Snow and his cronies who kept the clockwork running as they saw fit. The Reaping was no exception, only ending in more disappointment and shock as the boy held his breath the moment the Escort drew a male name from the designated bowl.

Buck Pitwood. There was simply no mistaking the wretched slip of paper that had been pulled out of the bowl. There was also probably only one Buck Pitwood in all of District 10, possibly in even all of Panem. The sheer realization of what had just happened left the boy frozen in shock and awe. He desperately wished it was little more than a nightmare, but it was all very real. The nudge from a pair of Peacekeepers behind him was all the confirmation he needed that he was, in fact, very much awake. With volunteers so seldom heard of in his District he was left with no other choice but to mount the stage in front of him. He did exactly that, carefully concealing all emotion he could as the Escort came between himself and his new partner in hell.

"Ladies and gentlemen, our Tributes for District 10!" The Escort announced proudly, but to only minimal applause. It was the surest sign that the citizens of District 10 were about as enthusiastic about the annual death pageant as a sleeping cow was about being awakened.


Crazy Cat Lady
Valour Drazen, District 1

If there was a single day that nearly everybody in District 1 anticipated then it was Reaping Day. Every single year the District Square was crawling with girls and boys all so eager to volunteer for a place in the games. It was a chance at glory and it was no mystery that nearly everybody in Panem's wealthiest District sought after it. It was a feeling that Valour himself could relate to, having sought after it himself just two years previous. He had been so certain that he would succeed, that he would walk out of that arena alive. Sure enough he had, albeit a changed man.

To Valour the games entailed so much more than what his fellow citizens saw them as. For many it was a hard pill to swallow, but it was an important one. Sooner or later whoever it was he was stuck with this year would come to realize it. He only hoped that the big revelation would occur sooner rather than later since adding to the already rather large pool of Victors in District 1 was always a nice bonus. Somebody with no sense of morale or motivation simply would not last long in the arena.

As was routine Valour eagerly took his place atop the stage behind the District's Escort. He stood in anticipation even as the Capitol's usual spiel began. It was a short speech, undoubtedly scripted as the young Victor had long learned, followed by an equally as scripted propaganda video. In most of the Districts it was probably a point of contention, but in District 1 it was eaten up by nearly all the young aspiring volunteers. Just how long did it take to grow out of that childish naïvety? Truth was, the man had not even been sure until he had made it into the arena himself. It had been strenuous, it had been challenging, but most of all it had washed away all that remained of a carefree childhood. Within a matter of weeks the man knew he would be gaining more like-minded company.

Well this is it. Please let them be good. Valour thought as the moment of truth arrived at last. The Escort stepped forward to draw names as was customary, but sure enough it remained as little more than custom as the District produced yet another pair of eager volunteers. The man couldn't help but to smile as they made their way atop the stage. The girl, Sapphire, was admittedly easy on the eyes, yet she was no Aurum. His beautiful precious Aurum. Oh, how he missed her...

"I suppose I'll see you two on the train then." Valour finally uttered to the pair of Tributes as the short ceremony wrapped up. It was the final cue for everybody to exit the stage. While the Tributes were escorted off to say their goodbyes he simply set out immediately to the train. There would no doubt be drinks galore and fine dining available for everybody, and if District 1 thought they were spoiled already then they were definitely in for a pleasant surprise...


Always tired, never asleep
Lex Cronin
District 2

Lex weaved through the streets of District 2, her feet keeping a quick yet steady rhythm as she passed the numerous tan and grey buildings that surrounded her. The sun was just beginning to rise, casting beams of light that slipped through the cracks and splayed onto the road in front of her. She always took the same route for her early morning run and the streets were still empty enough that she didn't have to think much, instead she let her mind drift. It was hard not to, today being the day Lex had awaited her whole life. Lex turned into a smaller alleyway the buildings casting her back into the shadows. She was eighteen now which made it her last year to be eligible for the games, much to her disdain Lex's parents and trainer forbid her from volunteering until her final year wanting her to receive the most training possible before she went into the arena. As she ran past the open square where they would hold the reaping Lex slowed her pace squinting up at the stage where she would soon stand. She gazed at it a moment longer before continuing home, if she was late her mother would throw a fit.

Lex bounded up the stairs to her front porch her chest heaving, after taking a second to catch her breathe she pushed through the door. Heading straight for the bath she smiled as she felt hot water run over her finger. Lex's family was better off than most, her father works making weapons for the Capitol which provides them with a solid income. Of course they spent most of that income on getting Lex the best training possible, an investment, they had always called it. After washing up Lex let herself relax in the tub, the moment being cut short by her mother calling for her. She wrapped herself in a towel and pushed into her room where her mother sat accompanied by a gown.

"Oh Honey! You are going to make us so proud today, I'm just so excited!" Lex's mother exclaimed holding the soft dress out for her to change into.

"I haven't won yet, mom." Lex replied a smug grin tugging at her lips as she looked at the reflection of herself in the dress. A knock came from her door followed by her fathers gruff voice.

"Let's get a move on, don't wanna be late!" he called through the door earning a shared look between Lex and her mother. By the time Lex got to the reaping ceremony she could barely contain her excitement she only half listened through the speech and propaganda video as her mind raced.

"Ladies first." She heard the Escort announce as she reached her bedazzled hand into the glass bowl containing the females names. Lex watched as she pulled a single slip of paper out and unfolded it squinting down at the small writing.

"Wait!" Lex called out suddenly, not bothering to wait for the Escort to begin reading the paper. "I volunteer!" she shouted a confident smile sitting on her lips. Lex jogged up to the stage and stopped at the microphone giving the camera a small wave.

"This really is a huge honour, and I'm going to bring back the victory for District 2!" She gave her sweetest smile and waved once more this time at the cheering crowd in front of her. Lex took a step back as the Escort got on with the ceremony reading out the name of the second tribute. The male tribute was also a volunteer, a boy Lex recognized from training. He was built like a truck and held a mean look on his face even so he was somewhat attractive, a shame he won't make it out of the arena alive Lex thought. From there time flew, she was ushered into a room to say her goodbyes which went as expected. Her parents gushed about how proud they were of her and her trainer gave her one last speech and then they were gone. Lex let out a content sigh, things had gone to plan today but she was eager to get into the Arena.


Physically here, mentally in another world
Axel Zuckerman, District 3

Axel woke up the bleeping of his alarm clock, blaring out beep beep beep. If he didn't know any better, he would have thought that anyone within a few hundred yards could hear that blasted thing. He slammed his hand on the snooze button and laid his head back onto the pillow. Axel let his eyes closed and was about to drift back off to sleep before his mother, Berta, call out from the bottom of the stairs "Axel, get ready! You'll be late for the Reaping!" Her voice had a slight accent to it that Axel could never place on what it sounded similar too. But the Reaping, he was far too familiar with that concept.

The Reaping was an annual pig slaughter, where two tributes from the 12 Districts were chosen and where nothing was ever coincidental. Every year, 23 pigs were slaughtered before all of Panem, 23 that would never see their families again, 23 that would never get past the chopping block. And by pigs, which Axel would commonly refer to the tributes as they were teenagers much like him. From the time you were twelve until you reached 18, you were Reaped out of a crowd of hundreds of children to be slaughtered by other children. Hundreds, Axel thought, more like thousands. Every year for decades, they had to watch that same stinking propaganda film, and every year, that dumb escort drew names from two clear balls.

"Axel!" His mother called once more. Axel could hear her starting to walk up the steps.

"I'm up! God, I'm up, Ma," Axel huffed. He waited for a few seconds before he heard his mother continue back downstairs to wait.

Axel pulled the bedsheets from his body and went into the upstairs bathroom. He was about average height and weight, and eyes that looked to be the muddy green end of a pool. His hair was dark, a trait he got from his mother, and his features were round, something from his father's side. His mother had already laid out an outfit- a beautiful red shirt and a worn pair of black dress slacks. Beneath them were several undergarments and a couple of slightly worn black dress shoes. The shirt, looking as if it was never worn at all, once belonged to Axel's brother, August. August never liked the shirt, only wearing it to Reaping and putting it in the back of his closet. Axel took a shower that was hot enough to melt anyone's face off and quickly changed into the dress clothes to avoid getting chilly. He dried his hair and would brush his teeth. As he came down the stairs, his mother, once she saw his hair, said "Axel, your hair is a complete mess! Couldn't you at least attempt to fix it?"

Axel ran a hand through his hair and looked back at his mother before getting a small nod of approval. "Would you like something to eat before we go?" Berta asked, thoughtfully. Axel shook his head no, and with that, the pair left. Axel's father, Louis, was out of the picture, as he died during a factory incident when Axel was 15. The only advice that Louis would have given him regardless of being in the grave would have been "Chin up, at least a frown could look like you have your eyes set on a prize." But there was a chance that they wouldn't get a prize. Louis, Berta, Axel, and even August all worked in a factory. August had moved out once he hit 19, but Axel was required to stay. He worked in an electronics factory to help the family, but after Louis died, Axel needed to take out tessera. Tessera came monthly, but at a cost- Axel's name was put into the Reaping ball more. He didn't have the odds in his favor.

The day was fair, with sun beating down on everyone's face. The buildings were a slate gray color with no sign of life. Once they made it to the town center, Axel went up to the booth while Berta went to the crowd. Axel's name was taken, as well as a prick of blood to ID him with, and he moved to a group of children in his age group. Many of them looked at him; several were past friends. Those friends had stopped communicating with Axel on the basis that he was blunt. Many of his comments were seen as rude, so who he once called friends turned away after they became of Reaping age- they saw things as getting more serious. Axel didn't care, several of them that were chosen for the games died within the first few days.

The Escort, a snob middle-aged woman in what can only be described as a colorful dress of many colors, came up to the microphone. Several victors stood behind her in a few rows. District 3 had winners of the slaughter, but compared to Districts 1 and 2, the numbers dwarfed in comparison. "Welcome, welcome!" She started and would go on for several minutes until the propaganda film started. It was the same every year, talking about the uprising from years past and briefed everyone on how the Hunger Games came to be. Everyone knew the film by heart, but it didn't matter. Once the film ended, there were a few cheers. Axel never paid attention, instead looked around at the crowds of people in the back, making bets with who was going to get reaped. Axel's expression scowled as they passed wagers back and forth like these were horses instead of children, and the whole Games was like some race. But nothing was worse than the Escort and the people from the Capitol. They didn't even need to say anything as their clothes screamed that they were richer than any of them. The whole idea of them putting children through this made Axel's cheeks flush for one brief second. The Escort went to the girl's bowl to retrieve a name- "Tamera Steele!"

A girl with olive skin and pitch black hair started to walk to the stage. She seemed younger than Axel, but he couldn't tell. She had a small frame and looked to have completely worn out clothes. As she neared the stage, Tamera began to weep softly. She stood by the Escort, silently crying as the camera showed her red, puffy eyes. The Escort coughed politely and continued. "Now, for the boys!" She sang with a wide smile. Her heels tapped the stage as she snatched a name from the boy's bowl. She neared the microphone and unfolded the paper. "Axel Zuckerman!" She sang.

Axel's heart dropped. He stood there wondering and praying that someone would jump up and scream "I volunteer!" but no one did. There was a parting between the boys as they cleared a space for Axel to go through, and Axel pushed through the parting out of spite for what the Capitol was putting these innocent children through. The system had flaws, and he was going to show that even if the Capitol hid them, he was going to act like he didn't care. So, there he stood while District 3 cheered for two more pigs to be slain.

They took Axel and Tamera to different rooms to say their goodbyes. Axel’s mother came and hugged him, saying how sorry she was that he was chosen. Axel didn’t say anything at first but after she let him go, he said “I’ll give them everything I got.”

Berta pinned a small cog that was turned into a pin onto his shirt breast. “Your fathers,” she simply said. And with that, she was ushered away. Now Axel was alone and felt like even more like an animal now that he was in a cage.

Ronan O'Brien, District 7

Ronan walked around the living area of the house while also opening up the paper bag of caramels he had bought from the store the day before. It was very early in the morning, and he didn't sleep well the day before. His insomnia grew worse as the days neared for the annual Reaping. He hated the Reaping, the Games, and the Capitol, not to mention what they put him through. The endless nights of unrest, the nightmares, the struggles with coping. Ronan couldn't stand the thought of the Capitol punishing these young batch of tributes. This was complete and udder madness, and though Ronan was quiet with his beliefs, he would let them rot underneath until he couldn't take it anymore. And today was one of those days. He paced around in the living area, his feet stomping around the room. He guessed his stomping was loud enough, because his nephew, Oakland, came down the stairs still half-asleep in his blue pajamas.

"Uncle Ro?" He asked in a hushed voice, rubbing his eye. Oakland looked exactly like his mother, with light blonde hair and fair features. Unlike Ronan, who had slightly tanned skin and brown hair that was starting to gray.

Ronan jumped at the sound and then sighed. "Oakland, what're-what're you doing up?" He asked, sitting the bag of candies on a coffee table.

"I heard you walking around down here and thought that something," Oakland yawned, "might be wrong." Everything is pretty much shit, Ronan thought but didn't say that. But it was the truth, the truth that someday Ronan hoped he would never experience. There was a chance that his nieces and nephews would have to become tributes, but Ronan would pray that that wouldn't become a reality.

Ronan picked the child up -Oakland was only seven and barely sixty pounds- and replied as he took him back to his room. "No, nothing's wrong. I just had a, uh, bad dream, that's all." Ronan knew that with the child as young as he was would never understand, but at the same time, knew he would learn in the future.

They topped the stairs and Oakland asked again, "What kind of bad dream?" The boy was starting to fall back asleep before he even got back into his room.

Ronan hesitated and answered, "A big ole scary monster was chasing after me, but you know what? You swooped in and saved the day." Ronan gave a faint smile to the child as they neared his room. He laid Oakland back down to sleep, and gently closed the door.

As he sucked on the hard candies, Ronan decided to continue to get ready for the day. Though he hated everything about the Games, he was still expected to show up. His mother and sisters stirred awake as he got dressed. Ronan had told his stylist to essentially screw himself, as he didn't care what he looked like. His stylist had to put up with him regularly and why he stayed, Ronan would never know. What he saw in his closet was a yellow, almost golden blazer, with black trim and matching black pants, turtleneck shirt, and shoes. For once, Ronan thought, he didn't look like a total ass.

His family prepared for the day as well; his sisters and mother dressed in yellow dresses as well, with the dress that Ronan's mother was wearing being more modest; Ronan's nieces -aged 9 and 11 respectively- dressed in black shirts and yellow skirts, and Oakland dressed in the opposite with a yellow shirt and black pants. Ronan continued to think of the nature of the Games on the way to the town center. It was ridiculous for the whole set up, how only one child won the many riches that the Capitol could provide. Instead, it should have been divided up among the citizens, but it was given to a soul winner. Ronan tried his best to help those in need but secretly. A family would get a few loaves of bread here, and another would get a few hundred dollars. What hurt was when the Hamlin family was forced to move out after their father (who was at one point a victor) had died, and Ronan couldn't help. The other victors were told to ignore the needs of their own, but Ronan saw to it that he would watch from afar and see what would happen. Up until now, nothing much had happened, but that may change today.

Ronan's family found their place in the crowd as he took his stance on stage. He saw the young faces of the children in the crowd, wondering on who it would that would be picked. He saw a young man, almost built like a tank, stand among the older teens or a more fox-faced man who was about 15. As the presentation started and continued, with the Escort talking about picking the names, Ronan continued to wonder. He wanted to make sure that these tributes made it through the games, and made it safely through to the end of the line. He may hate the Capitol but the tributes, that was another story.

One young woman was picked, and she seemed like she was well built. As a young man was picked and was about to walk up the steps, a young boy volunteered. His hair was red, and his face seemed to have many freckles splattered on his face. Ronan held his breath as he remembered that little boy from years back and from watching. That was the eldest Hamlin boy, and he volunteered. Ronan sighed as he neared the microphone and squeaked Silverius Hamlin. Ronan knew right then that even if he couldn't save the girl, he needed to save the Hamlin boy out of spite.
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Always tired, never asleep
Tech Ashlock
District 3 - mentor

Tech blearily opened his eyes, the sound of a knock at the door that echoed throughout his house pulling him from his slumber. Rubbing his eyes he rolled over to squint at the alarm clock on his bedside table. "Shit." He muttered pushing himself up off the bed and running his fingers through his messy hair, he had overslept. He fetched the dark suit that his stylist had made for him and hastily got changed. The suit was nothing exciting, in Capitol standards at least, it was black and boring yet still displayed his wealth. Another knock came from the entrance this time louder. Tech sighed and made him way to the door rubbing the last bit of sleep from his eyes before swinging it open.

"You look like shit!" Valora exclaimed pushing past Tech into the house. Tech rolled his eyes shutting the door behind his younger sister.

"Gee, thanks Val." He replied his voice dripping with sarcasm."You nervous for today?" Valora was 18 which made it her last year to be reaped into the games, though with her name only being in seven times the chances were pretty low.

"Not really, more excited for it to be over with." she explained as she raided Tech's kitchen for food. She bit into a piece of bread watching as her older brother attempted to fix his hair in the mirror. She stopped chewing for a moment to point the piece of bread at him, "What about you? Excited to see what kids you're going to have to prepare for their death?"

The question earned another eye roll from Tech. "Who knows, maybe I'll turn one of those kids into a victor, if anyone in this District can, its me." Tech shot a glance over to the clock and swore he gave his reflection one last glance before sighing and turning back towards his sister. "Come on let's get going."

Tech refused to listen to the irritating speeches or propaganda video, he had heard enough of the Capitols bullshit as far as he was concerned. Sure he would be playing a part in this years games but he wasn't happy about it. That being said Tech planned on putting in his best effort to give District 3 another victor, he just hoped he would have something to work with. As the Escort read out the girls name Tech scanned the crowd his gaze landing on the small frame of the weeping girl. Not off to the best start he thought to himself. The Escort then read out the male tributes name her overly enthusiastic smile not faltering once. Watching as the male tribute walked towards the stage Tech tilted his head to the side, this one may be promising, at least he isn''t sobbing yet, Tech considered that a win. The reaping ceremony was soon over and the tributes ushered off to say their goodbyes, Tech was eager to meet them and see what he would be working with, but he would have plenty of time for that later, for now he let them say their goodbyes. For at least one of them it would be their last.


New Member

-Theme song plays- (fades out at 0:30-0:45 couldn't find one shorter. don't have the skills to do it myself)
-on the screen are two men sitting behind a desk, one with blue hair and the other an intricately styled short beard-

" Hello and welcome to the 74th annual Hunger Games Recap here on the Caesar Flikerman Show. I am your host, Caesar Flikerman, and with me today is Head Gamemaker Seneca Crane, here to get the first look at this years tributes with us. Sencea, tell me, what are you hoping to see out of this batch for this year's game?"

"Well Caesar, more than anything I'm looking for diversity. I'd like to see what kind of strengths these kids have and how well they stand up under pressure."

"Right, well with that in mind lets start with District 1, Shall we?"

-The screen behind the pair lights up with the District 1 town square and the escort announcing its time to pick names. Before the Escort can even read out the full name of Amber Harmen another female volunteers and saunters up to the stage introducing herself as Sapphire Dray. The girl is all smiles and waves. The escort makes their way to the bowl of boys names. This time the whole name gets read out with out interruption before Marvel Burke volunteers and just as enthusiastically makes his way up the stairs as well and introduces himself oozing a macho 'i'm the best of the best' attitude.-

The pair take a moment to reflect and comment on District 1's tributes with Caesar doing most on the talking and Seneca barely getting a word in edgewise, a 'yes I agree' or half a critique before getting cut off by Caesar was all he could manage. The more Seneca got interrupted the more tense his posture became and the more aggravated he looked. District 2 goes much the same way, introducing Lex Cronin and Cato Stark and touching on their strength and beauty.

By District 3 it becomes clear that Caesar is purposely trying to get a rise out of Seneca but the other man refuses to budge. "Axel, now there is a tribute I can work with." "Yes, he does seem rather proud of his Reaping doesn't he? Most tributes from 3 get rather emotional like little Tamera Steele."

General highlights of the reel up until District 7 include a female volunteer in 4 followed by a 13 year old boy with no one to volunteer for him. A set of older tributes from 5 and from 6 a 15 and 16 year old.

When they reach 7 and the female name is called, Willow Carver, Caesar wonders if carving willow is the profession her parents wanted for her, making a joke out of it, even though she was built like a lumberjack. Then there was an actual moment of stunned silence from Caesar when Silverius Hamlin volunteered. Seneca, however couldn't help but smile unable to believe his luck.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, it seems we have a second generation tribute in District 7!"

The pair (Caesar) goes on to remind the audience of Forrester Hamlin's games, how he won by killing the district 2 female in single combat-they even played the clip of the event-and his untimely death in a freak woodsman accident. As well as how eager Silverius must be about the games, how he must have grown up to idolize the event to have volunteered so young.

Tangent over, District 8 went over without much fan fair in comparison, but they (Caesar) were soon frenzied again when Farro's name was called, thinking they were going to have a battle of Titians on their hands only to be disappointed when Thorn volunteered. To his credit Seneca pointed out some strong attributes on the boy but with Caesar acting down right defeated with disappointment Thorn's favor in the capitol wasn't looking good.

Seneca made a fuss over Buck Pitwood of District 10 and how he thought the boy would be a strong player. Then they wrapped the lineup with 11 and 12 having a 12 year old girl each and a male volunteer in 12.

D1F Sapphire Dray 17 (Amber Harmon 17)
D1M Marvel Burke 17 (Pearl Klein 15)
D2F Lex Cronin 18 (Rosa Briggs 14)
D2M Cato Stark18 (Mason Norman14)
D3F Tamera Steele 15
D3M Axel Zuckerman 16
D4F Lauren Reilly18 (Mabel Golden 14)
D4M Russel Bentley 13
D5F Foxface Chapman 15
D5M Myles Sharp 18
D6F Gabrielle Phillips 16
D6M Tommy Chavez 15
D7F Willow Carver 16
D7M Silverius Hamlin 12 (Jacob Hodge 18)
D8F Lena Mayer 14
D8M Jeremy Winter 16
D9F Bailey Beck 17
D9M Thorn Commonhill 17 (Farro Roosa 18)
D10F Eva Bright 14
D10M Buck Pitwood 18
D11F Rue Blackburn 12
D11M Thresh Hall 18
D12F Primrose Everdeen 12
D12M Gale Hawthorn 17 (Peta Malark 16)

"You saw it here first folks, the official line up of the 74th annual Hunger Games. May the odds be ever in their favor. Caesar Flickerman and Seneca Crane signing off with a Happy Hunger Games to you all"

Username: 942.2
>logging in

942.2> has entered chat
465> has entered chat
1049>has entered chat
C3P0> has entered chat
837>has entered chat
339> has entered chat
465> I feel for 4M
942.2>you would
339>easy boys
339>bigger fish
942.2>too young
465>biased much?
942.2>very much
942.2>still think its too early for this
C3P0>they pretend too much in the interviews
C3P0>watching while they are off guard is better
C3P0>trust me
942.2>how can we trust you if we've never met you?
C3P0>YOU have never met me
C3P0> and you wont
C3P0>you cant come to the capitol
C3P0>unless you would rather be an avox?
C3P0>it can be arranged
942.2>youd have to find me first.
339> the both of you
C3P0>is that all?
C3P0> ok
C3P0>you all know the drill
C3P0> ill take the list to the boss
C3P0>logged off

The recap is your first look at each other as well as first chance to learn what the capitol thinks of you. Roll for charisma (d20 +charisma stat) for capitol favor. This will come into play alongside the interviews and help to get you sponsor gifts in arena
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New Member

Thorn. Thorn Commonhill. The boy saved Valentine's son from the games. He owes Thorn a life debt and he will do everything in his power to pay the boy back. It wasn't until Val reunited with his wife and son as the crowd dispersed that he was made aware of the deal that Thorn had made with the town. His life for his daughter's well being. Fair enough, Val would have done that anyway. It is after all the least he could do for the boy who saved his son's life. He loves Farro to death but he wouldn't survive one day in the arena. He's glad to not watch his son die for all the world to see, however physically or metaphorically that it could have happened. Farro, if he returned at all, would not have returned the same. With a parting kiss to his wife and bone crushing hug that was returned just as enthusiastically to his kid, Val left for the train station to wait for his tributes to say their goodbyes.

When the escort... escorted the pair into the dinning car where he was waiting he already had two heaping plates of food prepared for them, his own plate had much less food on it, and urged them to sit across from them and eat their fill while he introduced himself. "I'm sure you both know who I am so I'm not going to waste time with a formal introduction. Just call me Val. Now, I'm not here to be your friend. I'm not going to hold your hands. I'm here to tell you the ugly truth about what it takes to survive the Game. The first truth; 24 go in but only one comes out. I have to choose which one of you I'm going to support. I will help the both of you in training but I can only help one in the arena. I have one account for sponsor money for the both of you and the more I use on one, the less the both of you have. Its the smarter move to pick the one with the better chance of survival. Any questions?"

Val sighs and moves the food on his plate around with a fork thinking over his next words. "I think its pretty clear who my choice is but I want to give both of you a fair chance. You need to convince the capitol that you are worth the expense to their funds. If the people of the capitol doesn't like you there is nothing I can do for you. Your first opportunity to do that was your reaping. The Capitol loves a volunteer so Thorn, you already have a leg up. The recap will be on soon and I suggest we watch it to begin to get to know your competition. I want you both to watch carefully and point out to me who you think your biggest threats are." He instructed. Val has noticed over the years giving out tasks in small increments seems to help most tributes learn and stay focused under this new and large stress factor that is their very likely impending death.

HP: 120

Silverius had managed to keep his cool all the way up until the train doors closed behind him. This really was it, wasn't it? He's in the game, he rolled the snowball down the mountain that will quickly become the avalanche that drowns him. Cause and effect. His mother had been trying to scare him about the Games from the time she overheard him talking to Pip about his plans and strategies. It must have worked at least a little because now he is terrified and can no longer hold it back. He had never thought seriously about having to kill someone in order to win, it was always a fact he glossed over so as not to scare Pip. And while he is a little familiar with basic survival skills thanks to his dad and the work load that 7 is under most of the time (sometimes forcing workers to be away from home for days depending on how far out of town they go. All the Reaping ages kids that go with are told not to bring anything with and forced to live off the land. its the closest the district comes to training their children.) he is only familiar with his climate. what if the arena is a desert? or treeless? He's not sure how well he would do in those situations.

He doesn't hide the hand full of tears that occasionally roll down his face, his expression never changed from one of determination, but he just couldn't stop the tears. Instead he focused on keeping his chin up as he watched out the train window as they started moving. He can use his emotions to his favor he knows, he has seen other tributes in the games archive do it with varying levels of success. When he felt the presence of his mentor behind him he only looked up long enough to recognize the man. After a long moment of silence Sil cleared his throat, pulling his thoughts together and addressed the older man with a soft sniffle.

"I remember you. I used to play with your nieces. There was a boy too wasn't there? Oak...something. He was cute. Made be excited about the baby my mom was pregnant with."

Willow, sensing the moment, made herself scarce at the other end of the car.

Strength: 17
Dexterity: 14
Constitution: 12
Intelligence: 13
Wisdom: 13
Charisma: 13
(20+13-33 TOTAL)
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Thorn Commonhill
District 9

Thorn listened to Val and nodded as he shoveled food into his mouth. It was unlike anything he'd ever tasted or would likely taste again. Plus, he would need the calories if he was going to survive in the Games. He knew some common plants and he could fish, so as long as the arena was designed like his district, he could forge for food and take care of himself. Maybe. Mill work didn't always translate well to wilderness survival, probably another thing he should think about during training. He glanced up at the girl, Bailey, when Val mentioned only being able to support one of them. It made sense; the Games were a gamble and you needed a good hand in order to win, but he also felt bad about trying to argue for his own safety. He touched the strip from Maize's dress tied around his wrist.

"I'm sure we both have a desire to survive but," Thorn met Bailey's eyes. "I've got a little girl to get home to, so I respectfully ask that you try to make it on your own." He nodded to Val. He needed to be convincing. "Even with more support, there's no garuntee I'll win. And if I die before you, you'll get the support either way, right?" It sounded so pathetic even to him. Usually he was more eloquent, persuasive, the realization he'd have to fight and kill if he wanted to see Maize again must be throwing him off. Fighting someone his age, he could do. . . survival of the fittest and all that. He just prayed there weren't any young kids among the tributes. Thorn doubted he'd be able to kill a child. "We've got until we reach the Capitol. If we can't agree on this . . . maybe we can come to some arrangement when we're in the Games."

Bailey ate in silence for a few minutes before shrugging. "He was going to help you either way. Might as well put our efforts into one person."

Thorn sighed and nodded his thanks, though he suspected he'd need to avoid her once in the arena if he didn't want a blade in his back. He silently promised himself if he made it he'd do what he could for her family. Turning his attention back to the meal, his mind raced over what he had to do next. Win the support of the Capitol, somehow survive training, murder everyone in order to win, and make it home and hug Maize. It felt like too much. Then Val started giving his instructions: watch the recap and figure out who was a threat. Simple. A good first step. Thorn nodded to the mentor and glanced around the train car. It was unlike anything he'd ever seen. Most of the trains that came through District 9 were filled with the edible grains, animal feed, and flours that the district produced for the Capitol and the other districts. Luxury trains weren't a thing. Honestly, he was nervous to move around or break anything.

Thankfully a screen was set nearby and after a few minutes of fiddling with it, it turned on. The three of them watched the recap of the Reaping. Thorn's stomach knotted as he watched more and more kids being selected, some volunteering and some left to fend for themselves. He frowned at Districts 1 and 2. "The Careers are always a problem," he muttered, partly to himself, "that Cato guy looks like trouble but if he's cocky, we could use that against him." He felt sick when a thirteen-year-old was selected from District 4 and even worse with the twelve-year-olds from 11 and 12. Thorn told himself to focus on getting back to Maize and not pray that someone else took out the kids quickly so he didn't have to do it. They watched the whole clip before Thorn sat back in his seat and looked up at the ceiling. Realistically, he wasn't the strongest, so anyone who looked like they could bench him was a potential threat. "The four careers, especially Cato from two, all the guys from 10, 11, and 12, and Bailey." He cast a joking smile at her. "I'm sure the girls are just as dangerous but all I can picture is one of those guys snapping my neck, which I'd like to avoid. I might be able to strike up a truce between some of the tributes during training or even in the arena, at least until the Careers are taken care of, but that'll depend on them and their strategies." He finally looked at Val.

"So what's step two?"

Int: 8
Str: 9
Con: 13
Dex: 10
Chr: 17
HP: 130​
(11 + 17 = 28)


Hazel Locktree
District 10

Hazel sat on the train, the food placed on the table though she hadn't touched it yet. She'd let the tributes eat first. It was a little kindness she could show them, especially since they weren't likely to make it out alive. Though they also had a tendency to over eat and make themselves sick, but it was a lesson they learned quickly.

The escort ushered the two tributes in, Eva's eyes still puffy from crying while Buck seemed steeled for what was coming. Hazel watched them for a moment before motioning for them to take a seat. "Welcome to hell." She ignored the escort's disapproving frown. Part one of her mentoring was scaring the tributes into realizing exactly what they were in for. "You are going to push yourself to an emotional and physical breaking point-- you might even break-- and you're never going to be the same again. You are going to slaughter twenty three kids your own age, possibly even each other. Realistically, neither of you are going to survive this; there's a reason District 10 doesn't have a lot of victors." She paused to let everything sink in. Eva was too young and looked like she might cry again.

Hazel spooned some of the food onto her plate, careful to only take a little so the kids would have as much as they wanted. While they ate, she pulled up the recap to have on in the background. Another little test for the tributes. If they paid attention, maybe they had a chance.

"Another harsh reality is I'm now supposed to choose between you two who is most likely to survive, the most likely to entertain the people." Her nose wrinkled and her eyes darted to the escort. "From there I get you what you need. I prefer to play it fair and equal but that would mean you will have to work harder if you intend to win. I was young when I won. I made everyone think I was weak. But you'll find I can be ruthless and I do not have time for anyone who isn't willing or able to shut themselves down and do what needs to be done. And I especially do not have time for hotshots who think they're miraculously superior to anyone else entering the Games only to get themselves killed for their stupidity. If either of you think you're capable of winning, show me."


Always tired, never asleep
Tech Ashlock
District 3

"I want you guys to pay close attention to each of the tributes alright? If you want any chance of surviving this shit then you need to know who you're up against." Tech clicked a button stepping back as the video began. He took a seat on the other side of the train car letting his tributes watch in peace. Really though it was just a chance for him to grab a drink. He picked up an unnecessarily fancy cup and poured a couple fingers of whiskey into it. Tech enjoyed drinking but hadn't yet reached the point where one may call it a problem. Like many of the victors did after the games, Tech turned to drugs and alcohol, though for him it was less about blocking out his past and more about celebrating it. Hearing the video come to an end Tech sighed and downed the rest of his drink before making his way back to where the tributes were sitting.

"Alright, so heres what we know so far. District 1 and 2 are essentially killing machines, District 3 girl doesn't look like much of a threat don't know much about the boy though. I assume that District 4 will be a part of the careers as usual and it looks like you'll have the kid of a previous victor in the arena with you. Besides the obvious threat that is the Careers I also think you should watch out for District 9,10, and 11 male tributes, they all seem like strong competitors." Tech paused as he glanced over at Tamera who was sobbing once again. "Look, I'm not going to lie to you it is going to be tough and the odds are definitely not in your favour but it's not impossible, I'm living proof of that. Anyway, how about we get some food into you guys and you can tell me your thoughts on the other tributes."

Tech retreated back to the other side of the train car to fetch another drink while the food was delivered. He walked back to his tributes, fancy cup in hand and took a seat across from them as they ate. "So, the other tributes what do you guys think? Who's your competition?" Tech asked.


A sinnamon bun
Philomena Stal
District 2
Philomena sighed deeply, taking a sip of wine from her glass. Her plate sat empty as she waited for her new tributes, finding it rude to start eating when the guest of 'honor' haven't arrived. Cato Stark and Lex Cronin, her two idiots that she had to get at least one of the home alive. She could only hope that her tributes were smart enough to understand that their situation and if not, they'd learn the hard way like every tribute before them.

As the tributes were escorted in to the room, Philomena took another drink before looking between the two of them. "So you both are here to have the honor and glory of competing in the games, hm?" She couldn't help but scoff as she spoke. "The quicker you get that bullshit idea out of your heads the better. I have no interest being around children that don't understand what this is. You both are here to put on a show and I'm here to make sure one of you get out alive. Just because you're from district 2 and have trained for this does not mean you will be coming home. A handful of times my tributes have died because the underestimated their competition. Don't be stupid in believing that someone from and outer district cant kill you because the can and will if you give them that chance."

Philomena finishes her glass moving to pour herself a second. "As it comes to training, I will train both of you separately unless you both decide otherwise, It's up to you however I've learned it works better this way. I will try my best to be fair and make sure you both get what you need in the arena, however I don't have the patience for children who think they know best and will not listen to me. Each year there is at least one of you that think what I'm saying is nonsense. I've won this thing before and I know what I'm doing, if you want me to help you survive you both will listen and prove to me that you are more than just brawn and childish ideas of glory." She pauses for a moment leaning back in her chair. "After dinner we will watch the recap, I find it's easier to strategize after everyone has eaten."


Crazy Cat Lady
Valour Drazen, District 1

It was another year of the Hunger Games which meant another batch of contenders. Valour himself quickly became curious as to what exactly his own Tribute pair would be up against. He had already begun forming several predictions in his head, but of course there was only a single way to confirm it. Thankfully the train had many tools to utilize. "Sapphire, Marvel. Pay attention." The Mentor began, aiming his filled glass in the direction of his Tribute pair. "We are regularly one of the strongest Districts in these games. We have full possibility of bringing home yet another Victor, provided you two are up for the task." He placed his hand over the button that would replay everything the pair would need to know about their competition. Without further hesitation he pressed it, thus breaking the silence, save the constant whirring along the tracks, that appeared to engulf the compartment of the train.

Valour watched himself as the video began to play. It began with some commentary from Caesar and Seneca themselves, which brought a smile to the young man's face. They appeared particularly pleased by the career pack this year, but that was standard. The man could vividly remember his own reaping just two years previous. He had been received with utmost enthusiasm only to eventually go on and become, alongside his partner, the highest scoring Tributes that year. Could Sapphire and Marvel repeat the feat? Only time would tell.

The footage continued, allowing Valour's gaze to settle on the District 3 pair. The young man remained uncertain what to make of them. In his own games they had not been a particularly significant threat, with at least one of them being killed in the opening minutes. Other years, though, they had worked out to be rather formidable opponents: extremely intelligent and fully capable of outsmarting even the strongest Tributes. District 5 seemed to often play a similar tactic; the man was still at awe about how the District 5 boy in his own games had managed to dominate the arena for a short-time through his usage of electricity. "Strength alone will not save you. You also have to be vigilant and be wary of those who could potentially outsmart you."

Strength, of course, seemed to be the name of the game this year. The outlying Districts in particular appeared to pump out sets of strong contenders. The District 10 boy in particular was toned and looked as if he could smash his opposition. His silence and stoic stance as he stood atop the stage unfortunately made him rather difficult for the Mentor to read at this time.

As the recaps wrapped up Valour took a sip of his drink and allowed the liquid to linger in his mouth momentarily. He briefly savoured the flavour before eyeing his Tributes. "What do you two make of all this? Any questions or concerns? I can certainly answer them to the best of my ability because, between you and I, I am rather determined to continue to show Panem just how strong we are as a District."


Physically here, mentally in another world

  • Axel stepped onto the train with Tamera trailing behind. Her sniffled as she tried to stop crying. Axel noticed that it looked like she had been crying more profusely since her name was drawn. But as Axel's attention was brought to the train car, he noticed how magnificent the train was: it was decorated with the most elegant crystal ornaments and dark colored velvet seating, and the cool gray color complemented the decorum. The trains that came through District 3 were fancy enough, Axel guessed, but they were mainly for transporting computers or electronics and parts for electronics. Axel walked to a seat and touched the velvet padding on the back of the chair. It was the softest thing that he had ever felt, and probably would ever feel, in his lifetime. And the smell! The smell of the food was intoxicating, better than the tessera bread that his mother fixed. That shit could knock out a cow, the tessera bread, Axel thought.

    As Axel and Tamera sat down, their mentor -Axel believed his name was Tech- switched on the television so they could see what they were up against. The Careers, the tributes from District 1, 2, and 4, looked absolute killers, and Tech even commented on it. They looked like the perfect little children that the Capitol love to eat up, always ruthless while wearing their perfect little smiles on their faces. Axel scowled as he watched as the tributes from 1 and 2 were replaced by volunteers- an honor to the respective districts and something that happened every year. Tech commented on the male tributes from 9, 10, and 11, who the male from 11 looked like he could chop down a tree with his bare hands, or at least that's what Axel thought. And the Victor's child from District 7, he looked small and tiny, so Axel initially felt that he wasn't much of a fight.

    Tech offered them food, and Axel complied, as the scent of the food was too rich to pass up. Axel tried some of the soup -it seemed like some chicken soup with chunks of the chicken meat swimming around the bowl and playing catch with the spices and some vegetable- and picked the end of a loaf of bread. Axel felt his stomach growl as he ate some of the soup. In a way, he was glad he skipped breakfast as this was the best meal he had ever eaten.

    Tech asked who they thought was competition. Tamera breathed a wavered breath before saying, "The girl from 7 looks deadly, so th-there's that."

    "She's built like a freakin' house," Axel commented offhandedly as he swallowed his food, "she could lift me with one arm." He finished what was left of his bread before he said anything more. "... I don't know about you, but the guy from 11 looks pretty badass, I'd hate to see him mad. And I'd hate to get in front of the girl from 1."

    Int 16
    Wis 15
    Str 14
    Con 15
    Dex 14
    Chr 8
    Chr [8+11] 19
    HP 150​


Crazy Cat Lady
Buck Pitwood, District 10

The goal was simple: win. Unfortunately it was easier said than done. Winning meant coming out alive only after twenty-three other Tributes were slaughtered. Truth was, Buck was not even sure he was up to the task. Despite his immense physical strength and occasional wrestle with the cattle back home he was yet to ever actually kill another animal, let alone a human being. The entire prospect of doing so was simply disturbing and he was not even certain he could stomach it all. Yet, it was quickly becoming a necessity if he ever wanted to see his family again.

Hazel's own prognoses for the pair were not exactly promising either. Buck could only glance over at his younger partner and sigh. As it currently stood she likely did not have much capability to kill anything herself. Perhaps it would make her easier to slaughter when the time came, but the boy did not want to think about that just yet. No, he had to survive to the end of the games himself. That remained an impossible goal if he was to be struck down in the opening minutes.

"I've never killed anything in my life so I can't exactly say I have experience in that field." Buck admitted to his Mentor with a shrug. "I suppose the most I can do is desensitize myself to what is to come. Fortunately, I've already started." Indifference was what Buck realized would get him through these games. Not antipathy or enthusiasm, but simply apathy. If he simply continued living as if nothing had changed at all then could he get through it all mentally unscathed? A bold theory, but the boy was growing desperate. It wasn't like District 10 was a Capitol favourite that regularly obtained piles of sponsors. He and Eva both would have to put on a spectacular performance if they were to obtain even one. The odds were arguably even worse than that in Districts 11 and 12.

What exactly sort of competition he would have remained the most pressing question to Buck as he stared his Mentor in the eyes. She was admittedly quite beautiful and close to him in age, but he did not dare even imply any of the like. Whatever interest she had in him, if at all, was no doubt strictly professional. She remained a lifeline tasked with a single job and surely she knew it herself. Her advice was hardly reassuring but at least she did not sugarcoat it. That was admirable, producing a firm nod from the boy.

He scooped food onto the plate in front of him as the recaps of the Reaping began playing through. Discovering what exactly he would be facing in the arena was only the first step, prompting him to watch quite closely. Districts 1 and 2 remained pretty standard, strong and eager volunteers who were almost always strong contenders. The boy could vaguely remember the suck-up pretty boy from District 1 who had won just two years previously after rather effortlessly taking down the remainder of his competition. If those were the sorts that the Career Districts regularly produced then he hoped and prayed that they would not produce yet another Victor this year.

District 3 became of minor interest to Buck. The pair seemed to be on the scrawny side, but they were almost definitely intelligent and well-read. It was something to watch out for as District 3 was known for a strong reliance on traps and outsmarting their opponents. It was not exactly the way the boy had initially envisioned himself dying. He at least wanted to go down with a fight if he was to be slaughtered in the Capitol's game.

Many of the other Tributes appeared strong, particularly in the outlying Districts. Buck's eyes lit up. Potential allies perhaps? Granted, no alliance could last forever in the Hunger Games, but there did appear to be a trend of allied Tributes propelling far often. It was a point the boy opted to tuck into the back of his mind for later as the footage finally wrapped up.

"I don't know about Eva here, but I want to at least try to come out of that arena alive. I may have a chance. I am strong and have even wrestled cattle back home. I'm not exactly tiny either like that District 7 boy." He finally spoke up, breaking the silence that seemed to engulf the entire compartment. He, of course, could not get the image of the little District 7 boy out of his head. The poor bastard was probably doomed from the start.



Always tired, never asleep
Lex Cronin
District 2

As lex stepped onto the train she felt her heart pounding in her chest, so long had she imagined just this, but now she was really here. She ran her hand along the velvet seat as they were ushered down the train car Lex gazing around like a kid in a candy shop. Giddy with excitement she turned her gaze back in front of her but her view was blocked by Cato's large frame. Lex definitely planned on being friendly with Cato, she wanted him on her side as long as possible, the guy was built like a truck. As they reached the final car Lex spotted Philomena seated with a glass of wine, she was about to express how excited she was when Philomena spoke.

"What do you mean bullshit idea?" Lex exclaimed furrowing her brow, she wasn't used to a District 2 holding any other opinion than the one she was raised with, especially not from a victor. "I don't know about Goliath over here, but I can put on a show and I can kill anything in my path." Lex was much too cocky for her own good, not that it was her fault, it was just how she was brought up. Ever since she was a child she had always excelled at training and was given high praise by those around her, they also did their best to keep her from thinking rationally about the games, instead pumping her mind with the Capitols propaganda. Lex wasn't aware she was being ignorant, it was just all she knew.

Lex was pulled from her thoughts as the food arrived, the smell alone made her grin. Back home she didn't have it as bad as most in terms of food, she never went hungry and her family always had a meal on their plate everyday but it was nothing compared to this. She took a small sip of the soup in front of her and hummed in delight, she could get used to this. Her mind wavered for a moment dreaming of what her life would look like after she won, it would definitely have this meal in it that was for sure. Finishing up her food Lex prepared to watch the recap, she was looking forward to seeing her competition, if their was any.

Int: 10
Wis: 11
Str: 15
Con: 13
Dex: 14
Chr: 17

(20 + 17 = 37)


New Member

"That's a brilliant idea, don't get me wrong your execution needs a lot of work, but using your daughter to your defense is a very good strategy. Use that in your interview, I'll help you with your delivery later." He stated and then watched the rest of their interaction with interest. When Thorn gave his verdict on the other tributes Valentine nodded along, waiting until he was finished to add his two cents. "All good points, Thorn, especially about Bailey. She stands to gain the most from your death because I don't care enough to hide that I am playing favorites here. Bailey," he started, addressing the girl directly, "I will help you in the training period just as mush as I will Thorn, but when it comes time to chose between the two of you, because Thorn volunteered for Farro, I will choose him. I owe him that. However, if I come across sponsors that want to give money to you specifically I have to honor that lest I incur their wrath, which Thorn will suffer for in the arena. So when your interview comes up you have to schmoose the hell out of the capitol. You will need the fans." After getting confirmation from the girl that she understood Val went back to addressing the both of them together. "Like I said, all good points but I think you missed a few. District 3. They are wicked smart and if the girl can get her shit together it will be double trouble. If they can get their hands of any form of power source you both need to go the other way. Let the Brawn take care of the Brain. District 4 are known careers also. They may not produce volunteers as reliably as 1 and 2 but they are usually gifted with a net and spear regardless because that is part of their livelihood. Same goes for District 5 and 6 as I mentioned with 3. These people work with power sources and mechanics for a living. District 7 isn't to be ignored either. Especially the boy because of his lineage. 7's are built like most outlier districts, they need that strength for their work. Do not dismiss the boy simply because he's lanky after a growth spurt, that is a typical age for that.... Am I overwhelming you guys? My point is they are all threats, especially when given the tools of their trade. With the right weapons and strategy any one of them could win. The odds are more balanced than you think. Its all about knowing what works for you and what your opponent cant handle. just like they all have strengths, they each have weaknesses too. sometimes it is their strengths that makes them weak if you can exploit it. Like the careers. They're trained so they have that to support them but like you said, Thorn, they are cocky because they're trained. Their strength is their weakness. "

Val let that sink in for a moment as he finally took his first bite and washed it down with a glass of water. "Be careful with alliances. They don't typically last long and will only work for you until you are the biggest threat. And don't ever be the leader of a group, it will only put a bigger target on your back. A healthy dose of paranoia could get you a long way in this game."

"step two? Keep eating. Try not to make yourself sick, if you cant recognize it I would suggest leaving it alone lest you have an adverse reaction to something. But eat as much and as often as you can stand. Every bite you take now could mean one more hour in the arena where your stomach isn't eating itself to keep you alive because you cant find food. or there is no food. there were a few years where the only edible food was in the cornucopia or a sponsor gift. There was one year where there was no food at all. So eat what you can while you can."
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New Member
HP: 120

Silverius managed a small smile at the mention of his old friends wishing him luck, he was certainly going to need it, but as soon as the recap was mentioned his mood sobered again into something somber and resigned. He nodded along with Ronan as the older man spoke and scrunched his face up in concentration at the screen, only looking away when the clip of his father was played. He had seen it before in the game archives but he couldn't stomach it then either.

When his mentor started in on what to do while training Silverius had a thought. “What good will training with different weapons do when I won’t even be able to get an axe in the arena? I can’t say Willow will have the same problem but I’m 12 years old, Mr. Ro.” He said using the same honorary for the man as he had when he lived in Victor’s Village. “I’m not going to survive the first hour of the game if I stay anywhere near the cornucopia when the game starts let alone if I try to pick something up. The careers will get me first. And like you said we won’t always be in an alliance. How can I expect that another tribute will get me what I need? Or even survive the bloodbath themself?” Sil asked, honestly concerned. He thinks he would need a knife at the very least, preferably a good one, but he has no idea how he would get one and continue to stay in one piece in the process.

Through all of Silverius’s scheming about the games with his brother he hadn’t actually considered that whatever mentor he got would actually help him when he might need it. They, after all, had done next to nothing to help his family after his father died, he didn’t expect that that would change for him in the arena. He was of half convinced now that Ronan was only saying he would help them both to be nice, that when it counted Willow would get more from their mentor than he would because that’s just how his life had been since his father died. He’s been watching the victors help other families subtly while his got nothing. While Pip got sicker over the past year and change and he got no help.

Strength: 17
Dexterity: 14
Constitution: 12
Intelligence: 13
Wisdom: 13
Charisma: 13


Physically here, mentally in another world
Ronan O'Brien
District 7

Ronan listened as Silverius talked, and he did bring up a few good points that Ronan also needed to bring up. But what struck out to Ronan was how Sil played himself down. He seemed like he was sure at the Reaping, but now he was drawing back. "As for your weapons," Ronan started, preparing to answer the first of Silverius's questions, "the reason I mention training with different weapons is that you two will be training for four days, and at the end, you will have to show off your skills to the Gamemaker and his goons. This will help you get your ax- if you show that your great with an ax, there's a chance that it's going to be in that damn Cornucopia. The guys behind the game give the weapons to the people that have proved themselves. Of course, there will be other weapons as well, and that's why I said train with them. If you end up not getting an ax, you'll have a backup.

And who cares about you being young?" Ronan continued. He's seen some of the victors win at young ages, Finnick Odair came to mind. It wasn't about necessarily about the age on some occasions, it was about how skilled the tribute was regardless. And, of course, who the mentor is. Sometimes the right mentor could change everything- they supplied the tribute with some things while they're inside the games, and this could mean life or death. "You can use that to your advantage too. You're smaller and lighter than most of the tributes out there and more than likely if they have trees, you'll be able to climb them better than anyone! Use that to your advantage as well. You too, Willow." Ronan glanced over to Willow and she gave a small nod.

"The Cornucopia is as dangerous as you say," Ronan thought briefly, "and what you could do is -and I've seen this in several games- they usually have packs scattered around the opening, varying in size. They have an-an assortment of things in them, some good and some worthless. If you grab a pack and maybe a weapon quick enough, you might be good." Then there was the problem with the alliance.

Ronan was one of the few that managed to stay within an alliance that didn't turn up sour. Many others weren't as lucky- there had been times where the Careers would team up, and they were a powerhouse; but after a few days and the numbers dwindled, they started to turn on each other. They would slaughter people they had known for days and do it gleefully. "Talk to some of the tributes that you seem more attracted with- maybe you can break even, but hope that when the time comes," Ronan leaned against the table and glanced between Willow and Silverius, "they get killed before you."
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Always tired, never asleep
Tech Ashlock
District 3 mentor

Tech nodded along to the comments made from his tributes trying to ignore the hiccup in Tamera's voice as she held back tears. In a perfect world both of the kids that sat in front of him would make it out alive, but that wasn't possible and Tech knew he had to focus his energy on just one of them to even stand a chance. He shifted his gaze from Tamera over to Axel who was shoving a piece of bread into his mouth. Axel was interesting, while he wasn't going to win any points for his bubbly personality ,his sarcasm and quick witted responses may interest the Capitol. Tech leaned back in his seat drumming his fingers against the table.

"All very good points." Tech mentioned before taking another sip of his drink. "Now we have a lot to cover but before I start training you for the Arena we need to prepare you for the things that come first. Opening ceremony, the interview, anytime you are in public you will be acting, you understand? Cause this?" Tech pointing his finger at the two of them, " This is not going to get you guys the help that you will need." Tech waited for the table to be cleared before he continued.

"Tamera, I know this is scary but if there is any chance of getting you out of this alive the crying cannot happen outside of this train. There is three 12 year olds in that arena with you, that means the pity card is already gone, you're gonna need a new angle. I want you to be all smiles out there, act like you just won the damn lottery, the Capitol isn't used to seeing eager contestants outside of the Career districts, maybe that will make you stand out to them." Tech then turned his gaze to Axel. "Axel there is no way you'd pull of smiling and waving, no offence. You've got an attitude and you're smart, use that to your advantage. You can keep your cynical and sarcastic demeanour just throw in some humour, even if its dark. The Capitol should find you interesting and mysterious."

Finishing his speech Tech slid out of his seat to go grab a refill but paused glancing back at the two. "Any questions?"


Thorn Commonhill
District 9

Nodding, Thorn added a bit more to his plate. Playing the concerned, young father shouldn't be too difficult; it was the whole reason he was on this train in the first place. But the idea of using his daughter for his own gain wasn't too appealing, maybe he'd keep most of the details to himself. "So besides gaining the Capitol's favor, what should we expect in there? Anything they don't show the spectators?" With some coaching, he suspected he could win a few sponsors, it was the arena he was worried about.

Every year he'd been forced to watch the games, he'd wondered what he would do in the arenas. Hiding and letting the others do most of the killing sounded like a good idea, but now that he had to live it, he wasn't so sure waiting for the strongest to hunt him down was ideal. People talked about the safety in numbers but if Val thought an alliance was more dangerous than useful, then that wouldn't be an option for him. Though a pack of Careers versus a pack of outliers would be interesting to see. He'd just wait and see what the others were like before making any final judgements on that idea. And if an alliance did form, he'd just need to leave before people started turning on each other.

"And is there any specific training we should focus on, like any specific weapons or survival things? And is there anything we should just ignore?" The more he talked the sicker he felt. Sure the odds might be balanced but if a Career got a hold of a weapon, which they always did, then his rate of survival would just drop. He stirred the food on his plate, some kind of noodle and creamy sauce he wasn't familiar with but tasted amazing. He didn't like how many 'maybes' were running through his head. Back home, he would plan, he would talk with the neighbors and find what they wanted in exchange for what he needed. Deals, favors, trades, that was the world he was better suited for, not acting or smiling or going Grim Reaper on someone with a sickle. And other than caring Dad, what angle did he have that no one else would use? Maybe keeping quiet and getting a lower score was a better idea, at least then the Careers were less likely to target him right away. "So parade, training, interview, and arena. Do we have a plan besides don't die in the blood bath?"

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