• This section is for roleplays only.
    ALL interest checks/recruiting threads must go in the Recruit Here section.

    Please remember to credit artists when using works not your own.

Fandom [ 𝘂𝗻𝘁𝗶𝗹 𝘄𝗲 𝗴𝗼 𝗱𝗼𝘄𝗻 ]

Characters
Here

natasha.

𝘧𝘭𝘰𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘤𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦
Roleplay Availability
Roleplay Type(s)
[ until we go down ]
neon reverie x natasha
 
Last edited:
  • mood
    feeling way too much to list it all out.
indigo lockhearst
district 8
The spread on the train was the most food Indigo had seen in one place at a given time. A lot of it was unfamiliar to her too. Despite the fact that she'd gone to bed hungry for most of her life, eating was the last thing on her mind. A wide assortment of snacks and desserts were laid out across a table that nearly stretched on to the end of the train car, and the sight of it quickly gained the attention of her fellow District 8 tribute, Felix. Unlike him, all Indigo felt when she looked at it was sick to her stomach. There was far too much going on in her mind for her to think about loading her plate with as much as it could carry.

Indigo had narrowly escaped what she was sure would have been something along the lines of a public execution. Not that the Games was any different, given that it would be televised and shown to all the districts, but there was something different about being given a fighting chance rather than being dealt a sentence with no way out. Many would argue that being reaped more or less meant just that, but Indigo looked at it differently. She sure as hell wasn't about to go thanking people for it, but she did try and look at it from a different angle. She was living on borrowed time, but she had a chance to extend that and make sure she got back to her family. Of course, there was no guarantee that she'd avoid some kind of punishment even if she did survive, but she could think about that later. Provided she even had that luxury, days from now.

Their escort, a rather chirpy woman named Thalia, was prattling on about something that Indigo wasn't really paying attention to. She was still as she had been when she got onto the train — leaning against the back of one of the sofas, fingers curled into the expensive-looking gold frame. The rest of the group had moved past her to settle in. Felix seemed to give in to temptation because he stood with a plate that was half full, and his gaze flickered around the table as if to ensure he didn't miss out on anything. Their mentor, a surprisingly young man named Griffin, had taken a seat close by. He dressed like he had money — which she supposed he did, since he was a victor — but he definitely didn't seem like he was used to it yet. That was understandable. He'd only won two years ago, which meant that Indigo and Felix were the second set of tributes to be mentored by him. At the moment he was far too quiet for her taste, but given how he was watching Thalia speak, Indigo got the feeling that he was just too polite to interrupt.

"The next few days are going to be incredibly busy," Thalia continued, barely missing a beat even as she stopped by the table to pick up a glass of what looked like champagne. Indigo had never had any so she couldn't be sure. "Now, there's going to be a lunch for all the tributes as soon as we arrive so try not to fill yourselves too much." She patted Felix on the shoulder just as he took a bite out of a finger sandwich. "That said, I do hope you enjoy the food." Thalia grinned and almost did a twirl where she stood. "I handpicked each hors d'oeuvre myself. I insisted on nothing but the best for you lovelies."

Felix swallowed what he'd been eating and then scoffed. "How thoughtful of you."

Thalia's smile faltered a bit and Indigo's gaze shot over to the fourteen-year-old boy. "Felix." All she'd said was his name, but the scolding tone of her voice was unmistakable. He looked over at her and his expression softened a bit. He mumbled a halfhearted apology to their escort before going back to eating. While Indigo harboured no love for the residents of the Capitol, she knew Thalia was just doing her job. Her bubbly persona was a bit frustrating, given the circumstances, but Indigo understood that she was trying to make the best out of a nightmarish situation.

And in any case, Felix needed to learn to hold his tongue because it wasn't going to help him with the other tributes, and it wasn't going to help him gain any sponsors. At least, that's what Indigo believed. Their mentor might have more to say about it, but for the time being, Griffin just looked amused. She had a sinking feeling that she was going to have to mentor Felix on her own, regardless of the fact that she likely had no idea what she was talking about. This was as new to her as it was to Felix, and her situation wasn't made any easier when she got on stage only to find out that the person accompanying her was a kid she used to babysit. A kid who idolised her older brother and seemed to pick up his penchant for trouble quite early on. Felix may have a tendency to run his mouth, but he was a good kid. Loyal, caring, and the main breadwinner for his family, which consisted of his mother and younger sister. He reminded Indigo of her brother when he'd been the same age.

Nothing about this whole thing was going to be easy.

The rest of their trip to the Capitol was fairly quiet. Thalia occasionally spoke up to check on both Indigo and Felix, and Griffin disappeared into another compartment till the next morning. He was as silent as ever even when he joined them for breakfast, and while Indigo wanted to yell at him and ask what he was playing at, she refrained from doing so. For now.

The train pulled up at the station in the Capitol early in the afternoon and Thalia, having quickly recovered from the way Felix had answered her the day before, was back to being bright and chatty as she led the two tributes from District 8 into the Training Center. The building itself was huge, and surrounded by well-kept greenery and cobblestone pathways that led to other parts of the city. The plants alone were different from what she was used to. District 8 didn't see a lot of green unless it was in the clothes they made. Factories took up most of the available space they had.

Griffin trailed along behind them as they made their way inside. Thalia smiled at and greeted any and all peacekeepers they came across, only to be met by stone cold expressions and silence. It didn't seem to bother her in the slightest. As much as Indigo wanted to look around at everything that passed them by, she was trying hard to keep up and not get lost. More than once, Felix had to give the sleeve of her dress a gentle tug to bring her distracted mind back to the present. They finally came to a stop outside a set of large, wooden double doors. "Some of the other tributes should already be inside," Thalia told Indigo and Felix, pushing the door open a crack so they could slip inside. "We won't be joining you but when you're done, just take the elevator to the eighth floor. We'll be waiting for you there." The smile on her face and the tone of her voice was encouraging, but it didn't help much.

Their silent mentor decided to choose now to speak up, and before they headed into the room, he stopped them by leaning in. "Don't give away your strengths just yet. Try to find out theirs if you can." Griffin didn't say anything else before he stood up straight again, gave a brief nod, and then turned to follow Thalia upstairs.

"They're putting us in a room with no supervision?" Felix wrinkled his nose and stepped into the room alongside Indigo. "It's like they want the games to begin before we're even in the arena."

There were a few tables and chairs, and the tributes that had arrived before them were all seated in various places. Some seemed to be mingling while others kept to themselves. Indigo caught a glimpse of some of the well-dressed ones and immediately determined that they were likely from one of the first four districts. It caused her to look down at her own dress, which was nothing special. It was her mother's once, and she wore it for every reaping because it was the nicest thing she owned, but it was still nothing when compared to the outfits worn by the careers.

"Come on." Indigo nudged Felix toward an empty table since all the others had at least one person sitting at them. "The longer we stand here and stare, the more we look like fresh meat."
.
coded by natasha.
 
Last edited:
  • mood
    uncomfortable..
ambrose wellvale
district 2

The calm before the storm was relatively short for the district two tributes, the train ride only offering a brief amount of solitude before arriving at the Capitol, which bordered their district. Ambrose had boarded the train with applause still ringing in his ears and adrenaline still pumping the heart. His fellow tribute looked equally thrilled as overwrought, though was soon to be whisked away by the allure of refreshments situated at the end of the train car. He wasn’t so easily lured, a noisy parade of thoughts occupying the mindscape instead. As elated as part of him was for this opportunity, the heavy responsibility attached to it wasn’t far from the mind either. Tasked to weave a golden legacy out of one's true survival, there was little to no freedom in action. It was to win the games and be immortalized in status, or to lose and be known as one of the many fallen tributes; a name of the ashes, meant to be scattered and forgotten by the slightest gust of wind.

Ambrose had always been trained to live for the glory of a fight, knew he treasured winning more than he would hate killing for it. He had been prepared for it too, and more so than the majority of the reaped souls. In another time, the tribute would feel sorry for them, knowing that for most their ending was written by the same hand that got their names in the reaping bowl. Alas, the path of caring was likewise the road to one’s death in these games, so he decided not to. Others could view him as heartless, but as Ambrose was taught to see it; too many people were tied down in the monochrome semantics of good and bad when the upcoming weeks would happen in the grey of it all. It was to kill or to be killed, and he had ample reason for the former. Still, he wondered too; wondered how decaying reality was in comparison to his woven fantasy. Wondered what it would be like to have the world seep into a permanent blank. Determined as he might be to win, he was not completely dauntless. Not when the soul of his tenacity was a ghost.

[They say the living didn’t matter to the dead, yet he still fought for both.]

He didn’t stand in this alone, though. Libentina, a girl who could only be described as a wave of fire wild enough to scorch wherever her emotions might lead, stood by his side. The two had a lot of differences which stood in permanency of the seasons, but their similarities lay buried in the soil and remained the same no matter the weather. They were there both for the same thing, and Ambrose trusted his friend more than anyone in his life. As dooming as both their participating in the Games might be, it brought hope too. Hope that at least one of them could bring victory back home. Hope that the name of Ignis Wellvale could be memorialized once more.

“Hey-!” the brunette shouted as Ambrose took two bread pieces from her plate, before feigning a glare down at him. “Go grab your own food, you lazy ass.”

Smirking, the district two tribute leaned back in his seat and took a bite from the bread. “I’m just helping you Libs, we both know your eyes have always been bigger than your stomach,” he returned.

Libentina huffed, while sitting down across from him. “You’re lucky we’re not in the arena yet. You don’t want to know what messing with a hungry me will bring you.”

“You’re talking as if being hungry isn’t one of your daily moods.” He chuckled, before narrowly avoiding the piece of bread being flung at his head.

“Well, well, aren’t you two chummy...” a sarcastic voice said, snatching the two’s attention. Ambrose turned his head to watch their famed mentor make her appearance. His mentor looked exactly how he’d imagined a victor with seven kills under the belt to look like; a stoic disposition that rarely shows let alone tells, aura like district two’s very own rigid wintry weather. Chilling to the bone.

A silence immediately fell over them as they watched Bellona stalk into the room, taking slow but powerful steps till the woman was standing next to the table. One single glance was enough for Libentina to quickly grab her plate and take the seat to Ambrose, leaving the other side empty. Bellona sat down, back against the wall and feet propped up on the corner of the table, though she remained silent. Both tributes shared a questioning glance with one another and Ambrose wondered if this was just an intimidation ploy or something else. Libentina spoke up first.

“Uh, hi ! My name’s-”

“I know who you are..”
Their mentor cut in, silencing the girl once more. Bellona’s finger pointed to him. “You’re August’s ‘promising’ son.” her gaze traveled towards Libentina,” -and you are the Starling daughter.” the woman crossed her arms, expression unamused. “Listen, I don’t care who you are but what you are. Are you fools? Believing in a naive fantasy....or are you victors like your dear friends and family think you are?”

“I think they are admirable,”
another female voice popped up, belonging to the escort, who had entered the room as well. Nova smiled dreamily at the two, her hand placed over her chest as if she was pulling those words from the heart. Bellona merely snorted in response, her personal distaste towards the capolite’s angel apparent in the following, annoyed mutter; “Of course you do…..” Her gaze returned to them. “So what is it? Victor or Fool?”

Ambrose didn’t know what game the mentor was playing at, but he did not like being labeled as a fool. “Victor.” he replied curtly, returning the daring gaze. The woman didn’t speak for a moment, holding his gaze with a daunting intensity.

“We’ll see…” was the only response that followed, tone apathetic. Bellona disappeared quickly after, leaving a wake of charged silence.

“What do you think she meant by that?” Libentina whispered, as if almost afraid their mentor could hear her question and return to deliver another intimidating speech. Ambrose shook his head. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to know.

The rest of the train ride, he stayed silent. In the backdrop, there was chatter going between Nova and Libentina. Something about fashion. Bellona, he didn’t see again. But her words kept swirling in his head.

Victor or Fool…

What did she mean?

The arrival at the Capitol progressed swiftly. Even though Ambrose had heard tales about the beauty of the Capitol, the grandeur he witnessed at that exact moment of entering the city was something not so easily described in words. It was mesmerizing and overwhelming all the same. Wide eyes gazed upon the grand buildings, its utopian atmosphere beckoning to be beholden. To be respected.

“- and they are holding a lunch for all the tributes. Isn’t that sweet? I wish we could be there too to support you, but unfortunately, we have other duties to tend to as well,” Nova hummed softly, before shaking her head and offering the two a sweet smile. “But I will guide you to the place you need to go. So let’s go,” the blonde woman gestured for them to follow. Ambrose paused in his step, gaze traveling back.

“What about Bel- our mentor?” He quickly corrected himself, not knowing whether their mentor even wanted them to use her first name, despite it being very public knowledge. Better safe than sorry. He didn’t want to summon her ire.

“You probably won’t see her till after the parade.” The escort responded, tone light yet with a tinge of...something. “Best not to dwell on it, though. It’s just how she is.”

Ambrose just slowly nodded, before following Nova into the building. Despite how big the training center was, it did not take long for them to arrive at what he assumed to be the cafeteria. Nova left them with an encouraging ‘good luck’ before disappearing too, leaving them once alone again. Libentina simply crossed her arms and pouted.

“Couldn’t someone have mentioned this lunch earlier?”

“What? Before you stuffed yourself with all those cupcakes you mean?”
Ambrose chuckled, earning a jab in his rib.

“Whatever. Let’s go, loser.” The brunette pushed the doors open, striding into the room. He quickly followed, eyes scanning the place. It seemed like they were earlier than most other tributes, the room counting about twelve people, them included. Ambrose did not have much time to observe the different tributes before being approached himself, eyes catching two figures heading into their direction. Based on the very self-assured body language and the fine clothing, the two could only be one of the career districts.

“District two, right?” was the male’s greeting, lips curved into a smirk too hubristic for Ambrose’s liking. “Name’s Malachite and this is Bijou. We’re district one,” He gestured to the blonde beside him, who seemed to be more engrossed in the pink colour of her nails than lending a greeting to them. Malachite didn’t seem to care, instead continuing;

“Figured it was best to seek each other out and stick together as soon as possible. Especially with the way they are already putting everyone together.”

“Ugh, can you believe they want us to eat lunch together in the same room??”
Bijou complained, nose scrunching up in disgust. “I doubt they even know basic etiquette.”

Ambrose and Libentina shared a telepathic glance. Yeah, these two were grade A Assholes.. Unfortunately, they also knew that forming an alliance with the other career districts was kind of imperative, leaving them with little choice but to endure the pompous attitude of the district one tributes. Pushing back the initial wave of aversion, he just nodded.

“Right… I’m Ambrose and this is Libentina. District 2 as you correctly guessed. And yeah, sticking together seems like a good plan.”

Malachite grinned in response, though it wasn’t the kind of grin that brought any humour with it.

“Smart. I like it. We’ll show everyone what the careers are made of.” The district one tribute turned and gestured with his hand. “Come, sit with us. We already got a table.” Malachite led them to the table in the center of the room, a very conscious choice Ambrose suspected. He sat down at their table, and entertained only a brief moment of silence before Bijou started another rant on having to be near other district’s tributes. It was only throughout the third rant that Malachite interrupted. Ambrose could nearly kiss him for it, regardless how pretentious the guy was.

“Hey-” he nudged Bijou in the arm, earning an annoyed glare from the blonde.

“What?”

“Watch this…”
and there was the smirk again, promising some kind of malignity. And foreboding as the expressionist tale on the district one’s lips was, Malachite promptly stuck out his leg, causing a boy who was walking alongside a blonde girl to trip and fall onto the ground.

“You should be careful where you walk. Wouldn’t want accidents to happen.” He commented, making Bijou giggle behind her hand. Ambrose could not help but frown at the deliberate move, disagreeing with the way the district one tribute acted. While he did not care about the other tributes, starting shit for the hell of it was not his modus operandi either. He knew why Malachite did though. He just hoped the boy was smart enough not to fall for it.

.
coded by natasha.
 
Last edited:
  • mood
    annoyed but also slightly satisfied.
indigo lockhearst
district 8
Indigo's eyes had strayed away from the other tributes and toward all the food on display. Aside from the large buffet table with a variety of different dishes that outdid even the spread Thalia had arranged for them on the train, there were trays and platters full of finger foods kept at each table. Much of it was unrecognisable to her, but that didn't mean she was any less eager to try and sample as much of it as she could. On the train she'd hardly had an appetite but her hunger was slowly bubbling to the surface. In the back of her mind, she knew better than to overindulge. Her body wasn't used to such rich food. She'd end up throwing all of it up if she got too greedy, and she reminded herself to warn Felix of this fact too.

"Should we go get some food first?" Felix asked, nodding to the buffet table as they slowly walked ahead in the direction of the only empty table in the room. "Or sit down first, so nobody takes our table?"

Indigo pursed her lips as she considered the options presented to her. She didn't really mind sitting with other tributes, but there was a difference between joining a table with people already on it and welcoming people to a table they were already sitting at. "Maybe we could sit and try out some of those platters on the table first," Indigo suggested. "Then we can—"

Indigo's sentence came to an abrupt stop when she did. Having been distracted by the food and the question Felix had posed, she hadn't noticed that he'd been seconds away from being tripped. It was only after he fell to the floor that she noticed the leg being drawn back in, and she followed its movement to meet the gaze of a dark-haired male. Judging by his expression and the way he dressed, Indigo deduced that he had to be from either district one or two. Given that he was at a table with three others, she figured she and Felix had the misfortune of running into a majority of the Career Pack.

Anger began to bubble up inside Indigo once she heard the boy's words after he deliberately tripped Felix, and in that moment, Indigo realised that if she was feeling anger, then Felix would be just about ready to explode.

He rose to his feet a bit unsteadily, but the expression on his face was easily recognisable, and if it wasn't, then his body language said it all. The way he stood, hands curled into fists and teeth clenched, made it clear to Indigo that he intended on retaliating. She barely managed to reign him in by placing a hand on his shoulder and giving him a tug. This was exactly what the guy wanted. Indigo wasn't going to give him that satisfaction, and she sure as hell wasn't going to turn Felix into one of the Career's targets by letting him have a go at them.

"Felix." She spoke his name similarly to the way she had on the train, and though the irritation was clear in her tone, Indigo wore a smile. "I'm sure it wasn't intentional," she said, leading Felix to look at her in slight disbelief. She ignored him, instead focusing her gaze on the guy that had tripped him. "No harm done."

Indigo stepped forward, eyeing the platter on the table while appearing as though nothing was wrong with what just happened. As she walked by the table, she made sure to swing her arm out, sliding the tray of food onto the boy's lap in a move that was clearly deliberate — not unlike his decision to trip her district partner. Rather than blame him for it the way he blamed the fall on Felix's clumsiness, Indigo immediately apologised. "I'm so sorry," she replied, raising a hand to her chest in mock disbelief. "I didn't think I needed to be that careful but I guess you were right." As she said the next part, she wore an almost sickly sweet smile. "Accidents can happen."

Beside her, Indigo could practically feel Felix relaxing, even if just a little bit. His expression had since shifted, and he now wore a small smirk while Indigo's fake smile persisted. "I guess by that logic we should all be careful, all the time." To anyone looking beyond the words that sounded so simple, a veiled threat could be found. She didn't want a target on Felix's back, and while her attempt to prevent that might have ensured that she had one on her back instead, Indigo couldn't help but think that it was better for her to be at risk than him.
.
coded by natasha.
 
  • mood
    uncertain.
ambrose wellvale
district 2

Ambrose could see it in the boy’s eyes; fire flickering and dancing, ready to burn. The games was not all about physical capabilities, there were the matters of the mind as well. A weapon could tear through skin or brittle bones but a shattered mind could determine death before you heard the knocks of the reaper on your door. Malachite knew about this, and as someone who bled vices rather than virtues, decided to entertain himself with it. Picking fights that one could easily win was an effective strategy, but this was where Ambrose stood apart from the district one tribute. While both of them fought for the glory of survival, to gain the crown and its prestige, the weight of death on their shoulders differed. Ambrose might be willing to yield his sword and take away lives but never would he treat those deaths as anything other than an inevitable tragedy. Malachite, on the other hand, would probably paint a hero’s tale out of the terror and blood in the games, uncaring about the faces he left cold and lifeless. Death was a mere servant to those vainglorious eyes and this district's-- he guessed either 7 or 8 -- boy an entertaining victim.

Ambrose could see into the future, the look in both Malachite and the boy’s expressions crafting a foreboding picture. But then, suddenly, a new variable entered the equation, unexpected and feminine. His eyes travelled to the girl who was probably the district partner of the boy and he watched as she did what was probably the most stupid yet brave thing he’d seen a non career do. Sliding a whole tray into Malachite’s lap. Her actions were so unanticipated, even Malachite seemed taken back for a second, eyes wide and lips parted. Ambrose could hear a muffled beginning of laughter coming from his side as Libentina quickly covered her lips with her hand, expression switching from baffled amusement to feigned horror. Ambrose could understand her reaction -- because as utterly sentencing as this girl’s action was in all of its lunacy, it was pretty gratifying to have Malachite be put in his place for once, and by a non career nonetheless.

Whoever this girl was, she was both incredibly dauntless and reckless. Although, with the way her voice carried a certain certitude and promise sparked in her eyes, Ambrose could not help but wonder if this girl had more in her arsenal than her willowy appearance let on. It would not be the first time someone from the lesser districts took the games and others by surprise. After all, in the end, all of them were in rebellion against death, their mouths open till the last moment, praising or cursing in a single howl. In momentums between death and life, deadly weapons could be weaved out of starless skies and breathless souls. Survival was a force burning by a myriad of unrequited wants; each sparked with fire and guided one’s life homeward.

Ambrose knew better than to underestimate people. Malachite, however, did not. Humiliated, fury erupted from within and the district one tribute stood up, hands ready to snap that small neck. The game organizers probably would not let death happen before the games, but Ambrose could see them letting Malachite colour that throat purple before intervening. His heart twisted in conflict, rationale battling with emotions. On one hand, it was best to present an united front with the careers but on the other hand, the prospect of not doing anything sat uncomfortably in the pit of his stomach. A tapestry of morals laid there, threads nearly touching his fingertips --- to be grasped or unraveled.

Ambrose put his hand on Malachite’s shoulder, halting the male in its murderous tracks. “Save it for the games.” was all he said to him, tone calm. Malachite looked back at him indignantly, and for a moment, Ambrose thought he might have gotten himself in a fist fight with the guy with the way wrath whirled around him like a wildfire. But as Malachite grew more and more aware of his surroundings; watching eyes locked onto his now besmirched figure, a heavy silence in the air, the fuel started to lose some of its potency. Malachite yerked out of the grip Ambrose had on his shoulder, disgruntled by his action, before turning to the girl once more.

“You’re dead meat.” was his threat, gaze shifting to the smirking other. “you and that weak boy.” He harshly pushed both the girl and the boy aside while storming off between them. Bijou hurried after him, calling out his name in her high pitched voice, leaving the two of them behind. Now, it was only the four of them, an aftermath of silence settling in.

Libentina broke the silence with a slow whistle.

“Damn girl, that was bold.” she commented, abandoning her feigned concern for an amused expression. “Stupid but bold.” her lips were curved into a smile. “I like it. What’s your name?”

“Libentina,” Ambrose spoke, a warning tint to his low inflection. Just because he prevented a fight from happening did not mean it was wise to start fraternizing with people their supposed allies just deemed enemies. Having spent enough time around eachother, Libentina could easily pick out the message hidden underneath the letters. She merely rolled her eyes and waved him off.

“Oh please, Malachite is going to be too busy screaming into his pillow for being bested by a non-career to be focused on a little talk. Besides, you can beat him in a fight.”
She turned her head back to the other two and extended her hand. “ Name’s Libentina and this tall knucklehead is Ambrose. District two… And you guys are....? Six? Seven? Eight??” She shrugged. “Eh it doesn’t matter. But you are free to sit at our table if you want. It’s the least we can do for getting rid of those two for the time being. One more blondie rant and I would have stabbed someone. Probably her, maybe my district partner.”

Ambrose looked at his best friend, “What?”

“You’re sitting closest to me.”
Libentina smiled, before eyeing the hair colour of the other girl. “Also, no offense on the blondie part.”

.
coded by natasha.
 

Users who are viewing this thread

Back
Top