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Fandom ๐™๐„๐๐ˆ๐“๐‡ - ๐œ๐ฌ

OOC
Here

sollie

Member
Roleplay Availability
Roleplay Type(s)





๐™๐„๐๐ˆ๐“๐‡.


๐—š๐—˜๐—ก๐—˜๐—ฅ๐—”๐—Ÿ
name:
nickname:
age:
gender:
sexuality:
race:
residence: (district # or capitol)
role: (victor/rebel/loyalist)
allegiance: (rebellion/capitol)

๐—ฉ๐—œ๐—ฆ๐—”๐—š๐—˜
hair:
eyes:
height:
body mods:
distinguishing features:
face claim:

PERSONA (those marked with * are optional)
personality:
likes:
dislikes:
strengths:
weaknesses:
fears:
ambitions:

๐—ฉ๐—œ๐—–๐—ง๐—ข๐—ฅ ๐—™๐—œ๐—Ÿ๐—˜ (you may opt to answer one or all of the questions when listed. the more, the merrier.)
game won:
age:
weapons:
skills:
pre-game interview questions: (โ€œwhat are your strengths?โ€ โ€why did you volunteer?โ€ โ€what do you think of the capitol?โ€)
what their game was like: (how did they win? what was their arena like? what was the most difficult moment in their games? are they proud of winning? do they regret anything in the arena? how was it received by the capitol? did they have sponsors? allies?)
mento? (Y/N)
reputation:
can we kill them off?
do you want them in the quarter quell?

HISTORY
childhood:
adolescence:
games:
post-games




a limit of 2 victors per writer will be chosen for the quell. other roles not limited. acceptance on a rolling basis,

 
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willow adler - district 7
















# 67th hunger games




# kelsey chow










โ™กcoded by uxieโ™ก










โ€œI stood looking over my damaged home and tried to forget the sweetness of life on Earth.โ€









  • WILLOW ADLER


    "do you fear me?"
    "no."
    "you should."

    (trigger warning: violence, hunger games gore, death, trauma )​




    enter








ยฉ weldherwings.

 
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Danika Stoneman - District 2
















# victor of the 66th games




# marie avgeropoulus










โ™กcoded by uxieโ™ก










"what kind of heartache turned me into stone?"

DANIKA STONEMAN







  • warning!

    Are you tormented by memories? Burdened by guilt?

    How is it that you go about defining good and evil?

    (tw: death, trauma, hunger games gore)



    continue








ยฉ weldherwings.

 
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Levi Bell - District 8
















# victor of the 55th games




# sebastian stan










โ™กcoded by uxieโ™ก










"if you can't beat them, join 'em."

LEVI BELL







  • warning!

    "Do you miss it?"
    "Miss what?"
    "Your soul."
    "No. I've forgotten I ever had one in the first place."

    (tw: death, trauma, hunger games gore)



    continue








ยฉ weldherwings.

 
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lorelei barlowe-district 11
















# 74th hunger games




# madison bailey










โ™กcoded by uxieโ™ก










"you're an inspiration."
no. i'm just a kid.


LORELEI BARLOWE







  • warning!

    โ€Hope is the only thing stronger than fear.โ€

    โ€œDo you truly believe that?โ€

    โ€œI do.โ€



    i agree








ยฉ weldherwings.

 
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A KING WITH A BROKEN CROWN
















The Slaughterhouse




of the 50th hunger games










โ™กcoded by uxieโ™ก





๐—š๐—˜๐—ก๐—˜๐—ฅ๐—”๐—Ÿ
name: winnipeg rosebloom
nickname: rose, rosebloom, winnie.
age: 40 years old
gender: dmab, genderfluid for the most part. doesnโ€™t really get his own feelings about it, but is just here for the most part.
sexuality: bisexual
race: white (Italian)
residence: lived in the victors village of district 6, but hated being there so he moved to the capitol permanently.
role: victor of the 58th hunger games
aliases: the king of beasts, the slaughterhouse, the devil of district 6, the drug mule.
allegiance: capitol, but recent events have torn holes into it.

๐—ฉ๐—œ๐—ฆ๐—”๐—š๐—˜
hair: dark brown
eyes: hazel green
height: 6โ€™4
body mods: the only tattoo he has is a large back piece of a three headed horse, one that looks sad, one that is angry and one that is indifferent. completely colored in red and gold accents, the background could be described as a dystopian with a sliver of hope.
distinguishing features: exclusively wears gold jewelry, also seems to have four gold crowns on his canine teeth which have been sharpened to give a more menacing appearance. rosebloom has sunken eyes and slight sharp cheekbones, but itโ€™s mostly from how sunken in those dead eyes are.
face claim: matteo martari

PERSONA
personality
:
likes: dogs, lemon poppyseed muffins, wine, pain killers,
dislikes: lavender, smelling salts,
strengths:
weaknesses:
fears: dying before he can make amends with his family, being burned alive
ambitions: at this point in his life, rosebloom doesnโ€™t have any ambitions. he doesnโ€™t care enough to have any, often thinking heโ€™s gonna die sooner then later anyway so what would be the pointโ€” but in all actuality, rosebloom has a burning fire at helping other victors and tributes in aiding them in life, to maybe keep them from ending up like him in a wayโ€ฆ but heโ€™d never admit to any of that.

๐—ฉ๐—œ๐—–๐—ง๐—ข๐—ฅ ๐—™๐—œ๐—Ÿ๐—˜
game won
: 50th
age: 15
weapons: ax, scalpel chain, drowning, train tracks, bare hands and with sheer desperation his teeth
skills: determination, water filtration, hand to hand combat, survival 101 things (building shelter, fire starting, etc.), charisma,
what their game was like: dark and humid, the 50th games were placed deep within a sewer like systemโ€” a had been underground train station that got washed out. it was the first of its kind, stuffed to the brim with traps and mutations. in order for the sewers to hold 48 tributes, the system was made to be hugeโ€” think of a new york train station, but only bigger. it was like some sort of maze, as if there was never an end, but you had to be careful. if you made a wrong turn you would find yourself taking a hard fall down into a bed of spikes or even a pool of train fuel.

for this game they created two cornucopiaโ€™s, one where the bloodbath began and another that you had to findโ€” only 6 tributes were able to find it, rosebloom being one of them. if you were lucky enough to find it you would be blessed to find food and clean water, something that was extremely hard to find as find (a flaw that the game makers had made, how it went unnoticed was never clear.) so many tributes were starved throughout the game, but only two ever died of dehydration and or starvation.

most of the time the sewers would be dead silent, as it was often hard to find other tributes with how many different paths one could takeโ€” but if you were to make a loud sound, those near would for sure find you and pick you off easily. the sewer system was always covered in about an inch or two of water, some having more depending on where you ended up so it was important for tributes to find somewhere dryโ€” trench foot is an awful thing. if you were lucky youโ€™d find an abounded train to reside in, an advantage if your able to defend it well enough as the trains were another rare find. they didnโ€™t run, but they were still sturdy.

the creatures that lurked deep within the sewers were monstrous, but most of them were blind which acted as a disadvantage. there were mutated sewer rats, about as tall as an ostrich and as powerful as a water buffalo. their tails were strong enough to grab you and throw you around like a rag doll, crushing your skull against the brick walls.
how did they win? trust no one, itโ€™s what kept him from feeling anything when he killed the other tributes. faking alliances with strong competitors, learning their weaknesses and one by one ending their life. as sick as it might have been, making himself desirable to sponsors in order to obtain gifts and advantageโ€” its a tv show to them, the more they favor you the more likely you are to get something in return. sheer determination, a lack of that would have killed him long agoโ€” being able to do the unthinkable was the fine line of ice and death.
regret: killing his best friend, one of his biggest regrets. he loved her, but not enough to sacrifice himselfโ€” a result that ended lifelong bonds he had at home, outcasting him from everyone he knew. a promise he broke, keeping her safe but how could they expect him to keep such a promise? was he to end his life just for the safety of another, who was there to protect him huh? there is no winners in this world and rosebloom knew that far to wellโ€” but they didnโ€™t and so they closed their heart to him and left him with nothing but his own broken mind and soon pill addiction.
are they proud of winning: at the time, yes and a few years after that. but as the years went on and the heavy abuse form the capital, the duller his existence became.
did they have sponsors: not at first, but the more kills he got and more it seemed like he would win they began to filter through.
mento? At one point in their life they did, rosebloom taught a handful of tributes throughout his years as a victor and because of him there have been more victors in district 6 then there has ever been. but heโ€™s forced himself into retirement
reputation: a blinding fire, a heat that would not go out. a tumbling boulder that showed no signs of slowing down, rosebloom is someone you donโ€™t want to face head on. those within his game felt a strike of fear when they saw his bloody hammer, the arrogant smirk that plastered his face when he struck the final blow. he was the beast of the 50th hunger games, he had too. the quarter quell was a eat or be eaten world and rosebloom was determined to make it out alive, at any costโ€” which made him even more deadly. a blood soaked hound who was given his crownโ€” his name still invokes a certain type of fear in peoples hearts.
even after the games, rosebloom is still a formidable foe, someone you should pray is on your side. but a light within himself was blown out, after the years of abuse by the hands of the capitol itโ€™s made him even more numb and hateful.
can we kill them off? perhaps,,, but i wouldnโ€™t have em to be the first person to be killed off. i want em to have a dramatic, angst, heart wrenching death if it comes down to it. make it really hurt you know.
do you want them in the quarter quell? yes

HISTORY
childhood
:
the youngest child of four children, winnipeg
adolescence:
games:
post-games:
crowned king of the games, the young child was seen as a miracleโ€” no one thought he would win, posing as some meek kid from a poor district. they thought he would be slaughtered at the blood bath, but as he excelled more and more through the quarter quell the more they realized he was actually the beast they should fear for. by the time he was brought back from the hells of his game, rosebloom had a hard time

 
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warden pruitt - district two
















57th hunger games




charlie cox










โ™กcoded by uxieโ™ก



๐—š๐—˜๐—ก๐—˜๐—ฅ๐—”๐—Ÿ
name: warden pruitt
nickname: ward, pruitt, 'stonefist'
age: thirty-six
gender: male
sexuality: heterosexual
race: white
residence: spent a few years back and forth between district two and the capitol, now resides permanently at capitol
role: victor
allegiance: passive capitol allegiance, due to it being all that he's really had

๐—ฉ๐—œ๐—ฆ๐—”๐—š๐—˜
hair: dark brown
eyes: dark brown
height: six foot one
body mods: n/a
distinguishing features: sunglasses most of the time due to full blindness in one eye (with noticeable light sensitivty in both eyes, as well as farsightedness), scars that can never seem to heal despite medical intervention (this being that they're semi-consistently fresh, healed over from layers and layers of scar tissue), a noticeable gait/limp in his left leg and hip
face claim: charlie cox

PERSONA
personality: With the painted hand of a masochist spent years decorating his own grief and guilt into more palatable tastes, of blood and sweat and pretty smiles, Ward fancies himself a man of two identities. There is not much pride left in someone once so victorious, and without that there are the mere shades of faded glory and stubborn survival. Pain is what keeps him alive, and while medicine may smear the scars over and hide them from the public eye, he likes the way his knuckles sting after a boxing round, or the way that his body aches after a fight. There is something more alive about the senses and nerves burning and tingling than waking up every day, Ward knowing that all that he could have amounted to has passed over a decade now; reaping both the lives lost and his own, really. He is melancholic at times, usually at the behest of a long repressed drink, and thus isn't inclined to do many things that waver his sense of control.

The facade he's moulded to the public eye is one of someone slightly arrogant but not too self-important; at the very least enough to stand his ground in a sea of other judging faces. Charming and ever the bachelor, the Ward that most see has as much depth as his eyes do (that being not much at all). His mentoring he takes seriously, probably the most thing that he would take seriously in front of anyone, and does not hold back from giving it his all.

In private he is keen to keep a tight lip, quieter and more reserved. In a fight he is quite similar to this, not one to gob off or waste time. The quiet and more upkept Warden is less preferable to his enticing exterior, meant to function much like a flashy animal in the wild. He finds tears in his eyes in private, more out of sheer exhaustion of both mental and physical facilities than anything else; but is quick to wipe them away in favour of something more penalizing to the body than the mind.

likes: physical activity, strict regiments, the infrequent and rewarding taste of alcoholic indulgence, early mornings
dislikes: guilt, silence (his tinnitus feels most abundant in these situations), feeling too comfortable, repetitive reminders, smug victors
strengths: resolute, intuitive, charming, introspective
weaknesses: deceitful, aloof, self-sabotaging, melancholic
fears: life without purpose and meaning; to be showcased and front some indomitable persona forever
ambitions: pursing peak body condition, leading tributes he mentors to victory

๐—ฉ๐—œ๐—–๐—ง๐—ข๐—ฅ ๐—™๐—œ๐—Ÿ๐—˜
game won: fifty-seventh
age: eighteen
weapons: fists, debris (rocks), improvised heavy-handed tools, mace
skills: close combat, brute strength, improvisation
pre-game interview questions:"Careers are often tightly wounded with one another in some form or another. Are you two close?" Shared looks with wrinkled eyes pieced into bright smiles, the two exchange the briefest touch between fingertips. "Something of the sort," Ward would say, clearing his throat when the familiar sharp gaze of his partner turned from pretty to acidic on his mouth. "We've been friends since we were children and when we realized that it wasn't just friendship... I guess you could say it brought us closer than most." He's having a hard time keeping the smile in his eyes. He defers to her to continue... until the questions return to him. "We want to know about you, Warden. You're this quiet tough guy, that can't be all can it? Come on, let us in a little. What do YOU bring to the table?" It felt like asking him to cleave a stone in two in one swoop. "Well, I... Iโ€™ve fought all my life to get to where I am. Toothโ€ฆTooth and nail. Whatever comes at me I wonโ€™t get knocked down. I donโ€™t get knocked down." He could remember the biting words back at the Academy from the others, not holding back on demeaning him in whatever shape or form they could. Speaking for himself, however, left Warden even more unsure than heโ€™d believed he was. Still, it was every time he said it that the words seemed to reaffirmโ€ฆ something.
what their game was like: Nicknamed "The Labyrinth", it was a dense configuration of stone walls that changed their orientation, length and direction based on foot traffic and behaviour of the tributes (monitored of course by the Gamemakers), giving creed to the idea that sacrifice was some of the only way to survive, and that both choice and freedom was well and truly out of the tributes hands (a reinforcement of the Capitol's hold). Most of the options for survival were in fact working together, though these tended not to last long in the face of an open path and a quickly closing exit route. Ward's first kill was his partner, leaving her in said section of a closed off path for other tributes to pick her off in her quickly declining state after he'd clubbed her in the back of the head. Banding with the other Careers he managed to last quite a while before it became clear that they were going to turn and target him (ideally, before he targeted them). By sheer will and ability, Ward outlasted most of the Careers until it was him and a District One tribute. In a bareknuckle fight to the death, all it took was Ward reaching the pinnacle of his mental state's decline, and bashing in the other tribute's head with his mace. A particularly gory Games, most remember it as far bloodier than the vids would really capture entirely.
mentor? Yes
reputation: Prior to the games, Ward was about as typical as most Career tributes with little else to distinguish, thus painting the colours of a tribute that would be knocked off later by someone faster or stronger than him. Brute strength and sheer determination kept him alive during the games, during which attention was drawn; he had a callous way of disposing of the other tributes. His first kill was the tribute girl from his district, the theatrics of which earned him a few sponsors. After the games, and by succeeding by his own raw might of mind and bodyโ€” despite the damages to the latter, he spent some time healing and cultivating public sentiments. He maintains a fabricated topside persona, one of a charming and effortless bachelor, attending parties and social events. Notably, Ward has become rather distanced from his home district after his brief return after winning, and in general keeps his ties rather casual and superficial among other victors; a handsome guy with nothing else to say.
can we kill them off? maybee. i would like him to go out with a boom not a whimper (with discretion, I don't want to lose my character right off!)
do you want them in the quarter quell? absolutely

HISTORY (TW: pain/pleasure self-harm ideation-- but he just fights a lot)
childhood: Born in District two meant that there were little outcomes for Warden that weren't predetermined for him. Though his family came from meagre livings, quarry workers for several generations, none had risen very far above said position. He grew up with mineral dust on his palms, feeling the backbreaking work of a young boy put to use as soon as he could. He saw some of the children he'd known be whisked off to the Career Academy, part of him envious as much as nearly glad that he wasn't in that position.

Hard labour was all that Warden knew, with dreams at the very least of being a Peacekeeper if he wasn't ever misfortunate enough to be reaped a year when the Careers for his district weren't at their peak. He idealised the notion of judgement and justice, of being the guiding hand of the nation and the Capitol, and all the satisfaction that came with it.

As a young teen he often sparred and fought with his friends, pummeling each other into dirt and stone like it was any other way of playing. There was joy in this for Warden. He had only a few siblings, most of which were his little sisters, that he cared for deeply. Community among the kids was strong, knowing that as long as there were Careers, they'd be no doubt exempt from the Reaping.

adolescence: By miracle of both circumstance and financial situation, it came upon the Pruitt's that they were able to send one of their children to the Career Academy. With a chance for greatness, and victory, it took little second thought for Warden to volunteer himself above his sisters; both for sake of saving them at least one year in the future, and to avoid the burden of staying forever in the quarries. Perhaps he did want something more than humble, meagre livings of a Peacekeeper; perhaps it was enough to let him turn a selfish eye from his family and plead altruism. Nevertheless, at fifteen he was sent off.

A 'late bloomer' of sorts among the other Careers who had been training their entire lives for this, Ward had much to amount to. He worked twice as hard, fought harder and did what he could to be prominent despite his situation. The other Careers had their opinions on him, most negative and others not paying him much of a second glance. The Career who would end up being his partner was a particularly nasty one, someone that Ward had never met before and held no sentimental attachment to.

Yet, when it came to the Reaping and they both ended up being summoned to volunteer, their misgivings were tossed in favour of a public facing personality.

It would be the first taste of true deceit, as well as protecting his private self, as both he and his partner masqueraded themselves as longtime friends turned lovers bound by duty to compete.

Ward's interviews were full of trying to poke holes in his story, to find out who he really was, but he left most of the talking to his female partner; as she had a far more interesting story to tell, and seemed most captivated by the cameras and interviews. Most of his memories during this time have been obscured by time and trauma, where holes pocket his own recollection of his partner as well as all the camera time. Somehow, just about blacking out through the entirety of it, Ward let himself autopilot all the way to the games. He garnered no extra support for this, much to his mentor's chagrin, but at the very least his partner did her best to keep them relevant.

games: As soon as the tributes were off, Ward figured himself good as dead. He wasn't sure whether he'd last longer than his partner, or if she'd get the edge on him and convince the others to take him out, but by some miracle he found himself in a better position than her. They played on opposite sides, unintentionally furthering the 'burden of lovers' that they'd cultivated prior to the games.

As soon as he had the chance, however, Ward took her out quicklyโ€” a heartless act of her own pleading and begging as he dragged her by her bloodied hair to a corner of the maze, a corner that in due time managed to block itself off as Ward went back to the Careers. For some time after he wondered whether he should have killed her outright, rather than letting her die. It had taken a day for the cannons to sound and her image to blast in the sky, telling him all that he needed.

The emotions he felt were very real in that moment, but it seemed compelling enough to garner some support and sponsors.

It only furthered Ward's own disconnect with himself.

The rest of the games passed in a blur, Ward testing his own ability to survive with others as well as his own instincts. The blood that streaked the Labyrinth's corridors became some sort of beacon of reality for him. By the time the numbers dwindled, fight after fight and passing evenings to early morning hunts, it came to the last few.

Ward had gotten along with a District One Career he'd been working with, and when it was just the two of them left, they'd promised to fight it out as fair as possible to the other. Maybe Ward had gotten too tired, or he'd seen a glint in his fellow tribute's eyes that seemed to paint the picture of deceit, but once they'd gone and left each other bloodied and broken, Ward grabbed his mace and finished the job. Unfair, perhaps, but he wouldn't risk getting shanked in his last minutes.

post-games: Treated for his head injury that brought about a lack of sight in one of his eyes and a plethora of other longstanding problems, Ward only wished to go home after he'd won.

The homecoming had been less spectacular than he'd imagined.

They said he'd changed, that he wasn't the same as he was before. Considering it had been three years and then some since he'd seen his family, perhaps he'd hoped for the warm embrace of familiarity. It all felt unreal to him, especially after the stakes that had compelled his survival in the Games. It became too stagnant, too comfortable, and Ward found no respite from his inner demons.

He returned to the Capitol shortly after, spending less than a year home. There they worked endlessly to restore his grace in the public eye, since he'd gone under since going home. Still, many were quick to redirect their attention to him as a Victor, and Ward preferred the business of Capitol life than anything at home could offer. It became an addiction in itself, the attention. Though, not unlike his inability to stay home, sometime after maintaining his public persona of a man with the life of the party, he grew restless of it too. Ward trained once again, finding that working out provided some relief to the mental stagnancy. After that he started mentoring, finally, working his social niceties as well as his physical skills.

At twenty-six he found himself entangled in an emotional affair with another Victor, and with it came a piece of clarity that he didn't know he wanted or needed. It was a fresh change, though quickly it became clear to him that vulnerabilities were not meant for someone like him.

Around this time as well came a forbidden offer, mentioned under hushed whispers: that there was a group who fancied themselves gamblers, of the sort, spending time between Games fueling their own bloodlust by pitting against each other. A fight club of sorts, made out of honour and the brutal addiction to being beaten and seeing red. Warden had, at first, not known what to think of it. Quickly, however, he did see the thrill of it, and it became a compulsion as much as a hobby.

Kept utterly hush and full of bruises cuts and blood to make up for any substance in his real life, Ward returned to the double life that he'd lived before the games. In a strange, cathartic rhythm it became more familiar to him than anything had. His inability to keep a persistent sense of self sent his relationship down to the gutter, and with it he lost the woman he didn't know he needed.

Further and further Ward sunk himself into physical ability, boxing and whatever pain he could do to stay alive. It wasn't until the Quarter Quell that he realized why he'd wanted to die so much; some sort of karmic revenge from the girl he'd left to die back in the Labyrinth all those years ago. A ghost, maybe, that haunted his mind. He would entertain those sensations, those desires, and submit himself for another fight for his life.
 
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titania vance (dist. 4)
















60th hunger games




{Minka Kelly}










โ™กcoded by uxieโ™ก




Victor of the 60th Hunger Games
Titania Vance
District Four
001
002
003
  • 001
    basics
    agility
    brawn
    cunning
    empathy
    passion
    Nickname(s)
    n/a
    age
    thirty-two
    gender
    female, sexuality ambiguous
    allegiance
    passivise loyalist
    ethnicity
    caucasian
    residence
    District 4, Victors' Village
    appearance
    faceclaim
    minka kelly
    Hair: a cool-toned platinum, dyed as such at the insistence of her escort prior to the 60th Games, to ensure she stood apart in a year where almost all other female contenders were brunettes, as she is naturally. She has since kept the color, seeing as how it has become a staple of her appearance since her initial victory.

    Eyes: Brown

    Height: 5'9"

    Body Mods & Distinguishing Features: a birthmark behind her left ear; a reconstructive rhinoplasty following the Games, though any scarring from the procedure is no longer noticeable.
    personality
    Likes: swimming, the water, close friends, animals, trees, nature, painting

    Dislikes: close spaces, the color red, forced conversation

    Strengths: strategy, agility, swimming, fishing

    Weaknesses: brute force, socializing, networking, empathy

    Fears: enclosed spaces, suffocating

    Ambitions: to lead a quiet life


code by @Nano
 
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scroll








scroll





โ
So I'm cuttin' that branch off the cherry tree, singin' "this will be my victory!"
Then I see them comin' after me.





THRICE
















killer of friends



VICTOR 63.







full name

Nero M. Everend






nicknames

Ender






age

28






residence

District 11






gender

Cisgender Male






sexuality

Homosexual





role

VICTOR





allegiance

The Rebellion
































Black Honey


Thrice




















01.



visage

















height

5"8.5






weight

answer






hair c.

answer






eye c.

answer






faceclaim

answer























02.



psyche









Like a wraith filled with loss and regret, he tears through life ruefully, having a certain grit in his demeanor. He's neither charming nor caring. He's resentful and shrewd, carefully measured in his disdain for being near anyone or making any new connections. And, it's for good reason. He is regretful of his decisions during his turn at the Games, though they gave him the chance to breathe another day's air. He's not cruel, but that's mercurial at best. His past defines him very boldly and he wears his heart on his sleeve about it. A walking ghost of a person, he poisons the air around himself to give others a chance to get away before he commits the same sins all over again.

๐—ฉ๐—œ๐—–๐—ง๐—ข๐—ฅ ๐—™๐—œ๐—Ÿ๐—˜ (you may opt to answer one or all of the questions when listed. the more, the merrier.)
game won: sixty-third
age: 16
weapons: throwing tomahawks, makeshift stake, Molotov cocktails
skills: Natural Herb Knowledge, Water Distilling, Light hand-to-hand combat, melee marksmanship
pre-game interview questions:
"Mr. Nero Everend...are you nervous? You look like you don't want to be here."

"I'm sorry, Mr. Ceasar-"

"No, no. We're friends, sport! Call me Ceasar."

"Well...Ceasar... as much as I love the hospitality that has been shown to me these last few days, I can't help but feel somewhat sad. My birthday was yesterday."

Ceasar flinched slightly, with the crowd reeling from this kind of announcement. It would surely get the boy a few sponsors from the start, having a birthday that falls around the time of the Games. Unable to voice his sympathy for the kid, Ceasar pressed on through the interview.

"Yesterday was your-? Happy Birthday, Nero, from all of us in the Capitol. Now, if you could have one wish on your day, what would it be?"

Nero shuffles his feet a little, thinking of something that could Impress the people of the Capitol, as his mentor coached him to do.

"Well, I've spent most of my birthdays with Calli. That's all I would want, honestly...for things to be the same as they were before."

"Ms. Calliope Rose? You two are friends? So, now the Reaping makes more sense...you two must be inseparable. Thick as thieves!
what their game was like: (how did they win? what was their arena like? what was the most difficult moment in their games? are they proud of winning? do they regret anything in the arena? how was it received by the capitol? did they have sponsors? allies?)
mento? Yes
reputation:
can we kill them off? He'd never forgive himself if he didn't murder Snow himself
do you want them in the quarter quell? Regretfully, yes






likes

answer






dislikes

answer






fears

answer


















03.



history









Nero was the son of the Mayor and his wife, who was a Potts--one of the daughters of the Apothecary. He had the same sharp features as both of them and where one taught him to cure the other taught him how to fight early on. In the world they lived in, he had to learn. His mother was well known for their medicinal concoctions, having a stash of which she kept within their home. People would come daily to get draughts for exhaustion and cures for allergies, both of which were the results of the people working day in and day out during the harvest season. Nero was separate from this cause because of his father's status, so he only worked on the crops and orchards in his own time. Most of his concentration went to schooling and learning his father's trade. It was likely he'd become Mayor in his father's stead, a patriarchal duty within his family. Nero was liked well enough and it was something that was already decided before he was born. In another life, maybe that was his fate. But not this one.

Calliope was his favorite person in the world. They grew up together, with her being the daughter of the Head Peacekeeper. They would spend their time reading old books from before the war of the Old Country. Their favorite pastime was rereading newspaper comic strips: specifically Calvin and Hobbes. The papers were older than the advent of Internet technology, so it was scarce. But, there were enough of the delightful little anecdotes for the amusement of two childhoods at the cost of one. But, it gave two people the opportunity to connect on a very special level. Calli was a sickly girl. Nero's mother said she had anemia, which didn't make sense to him at the time. However, as they grew up, it became clearer what her limitations were. She was often winded by exertion or exposure. And, she was often dehydrated. To remedy that, Nero's mother made him carry a canteen of honey and water, which helped her tremendously since they were always together.

The two eluded the Reaping five times in a row. Five times they watched as an unfortunate duo walked up the steps to meet Ellis Harpenter, the mentor to District Eleven's tributes due to the fact that they hadn't had a victor in 40 years who hadn't...succumbed to the haunting nature of their experience. All their luck seemed to be absent on that blistering summer day. Nero wore his father's old linen suit and had his hair braided back, all but a tendril of hair that curled upward softly. Calli wore her mother's wedding dress. They were both sixteen, within five months and a few days of each other. She was called to the stage first. The crowd was silent enough for an outsider to hear the rustling of the Capitol flags on a spare breeze. It sounded like fabric brushing against bone. The second name called was Habbner Tress, the tailor's son. He took no more than seven steps in the parting of the crowd before Nero said it. A stammer at first, low and guttural before he yelled out against the silence. "I volunteer as the male tribute of District 11!" There was immediate mumbling; whispers & murmurs as he stepped out and past Habbner to step up on the stage. Ellis Harpenter was a sport about it, cheerfully asking for the name of the volunteer tribute that "just couldn't wait to steal away the moment to rise for his country". There was no doubt that this would be his tagline for the media buzz to follow such a valiant act. They could think it was for himself, for all he cared. It was for her, not anyone else. He dared not look in his family's direction. He stood there with a stoic face, prepared to let them remember him as the boy who stared down the flames he stood in.

---

He'd done all he could for her. The result was a nasty gash that tore through the nape of his neck to the back of his ear, from a grazing shot of a thrown knife. It was sheer luck, the lo0ss of footing against the dune he was racing down with Calli behind him. He heard the other two knives hit, but it didn't register. Nero rolled into a crouch, tomahawk flying from his hand just as he'd practiced in the Training Complex. It landed square in the forehead of the District 1 Boy. In His last moments of confusion, the boy swung out with his bladed hand, slicing the throat of his fellow Tribute. They both eventually went down, cannons firing in the distance as blood soaked the sand. Nero sat there for a moment, bewildered and perked around the edges from the battle. He almost didn't hear her call out his name with a whimper.

He cared for her for a day and a half before he did it. She'd gotten a deep wound from one of the knives the Career threw their way--two inches from her heart. They'd gotten a salve to heal the wound, but that didn't help the major blood loss and dehydration she faced as the days went on. They had water from the oasis they'd found, but it was only a little at that time and the oasis was a day's journey. She wouldn't have lasted. Nero didn't even notice the abundance of cannons during the time. He was focused on her: at first, her survival, but then he began to prepare to do it. He used Skrab* stinger poison and what was left of the water, flavoring it with some of the honey he'd gotten at the Cornucopia to hide the taste. Calli drank the sugared poison slowly and smiled, with her breathing becoming more and more ragged before shuddering to a rattling halt altogether. Nero listened to the last cannon go off, tears welling in his eyes as his hands tightened around the hem of his shorts as he knelt next to her. The next sentence from the Gamemakers was a blur. he could only hear the number "63rd" being said before he was approached by the attendees and led away from the Body of his best friend. The procession was swift, being remade to look even more glamorous than he did for either the Opening Ceremony or the Interview. He was silent the whole time, not saying a word from the Victor's Interview to the train ride back to District 11, to his new home in the Victor's Village. It was only when he was alone in his house--away from the cameras and his Prep team and his parents and her parents-- that he closed the door behind himself and let out the cry of a soul bent beyond recognition. He was never going to be the same person he was when he left. This was new territory, and he was new as well. He wanted nothing else but to kill everyone who was the cause of this new pain, everyone who dined on his reluctant malice and wore it like kings and queens. He wanted the rich to heat their own entrails while he stood on their neck.

He wanted to take it all back, even if it meant he'd take her place.

---
Twelve Years Later
Interview leading up to the 3rd Quarter Quell Games Announcement


"So, you escaped the Games, by giving Calliope a dose of poison. A mercy kill... Tell us, what was going on in your head when you found her, wounded behind you during that last attack from Jossep Troy and Mikenna Deevs of District District One? It was a risky move throwing the axe that saved your life. How did it feel not to have to use it on your teammate?"

"I'd have rathered used it on myself. You know, you glamorize the fact that we were all going to die on that game field, one way or another. In a way...I died too. I didn't want...*cough*...I didn't want to win like that."

"True, true. Okay, enough about the Games. Tell us what you've been doing with yourself as of late. You're always so quiet at Capitol events. What's moving you? What's keeping you going after all that loss?"

"I've been...training. The constant exercise with my trainer, Pike, has kept me from thinking about the 'loss' and misery I go through on the daily basis. And, as for my art? No matter how many times it gets stolen from me, it's mine...not for anyone to use to make me look like some weakling who can't keep it together. That's why I choose to lament in silence. Does that answer make you happy, Cesar?"

"We're only concerned for you, Nero. No one can understand what you're going through-"

"You're wrong. Seventy-four other people, living and dead, know what it's like to be me. All seventy-four of us can tell all of you in the Capitol to eat dog shit. And, if I had my way with Snow and his minstrel show of dressed up pigs, no one would ever have to know ever again. Fuck this." *rips microphone out of his suit and storms off*

"Ahem, well...there you have it, folks. No, don't 'boo' him, he's gone through a lot. So much anger, so much ferocity. That's what makes a Champion, whether he likes it or not. The road to victory will be paved once more for the next contenders of the Hunger Games. The Quarter Quell, no less! You've been waiting for it! It's time for the Official Announcement from our beloved President Snow. Stay tuned afterwards to see what the rest of the Victors have to say about this years Quarter Quell Ruling. I'm Ceasar Flickerman, people!

*cheers of adoration and sheep-like devotion fill the room as Nero finds his way out of it*


















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gallery


































05.



connections

















character name



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06.



miscellaneous

















whatever

hello






whatever

hello




















โ™กcoded by uxieโ™ก
 
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filler! ignore







filler! ignore







filler! ignore







filler! ignore





























  • Maybe in the end we are just pieces of chess in this game called life, but while you are a miserable pawn I'll always remain the queen of the game.










    I don't know who to betray












    requisite











    How Villains Are Made






    madalen duke






























    zhang chao-xing










    twenty-eight










    female










    bisexual










    chinese










    capitol










    victor










    whatever keeps her alive

















โ™กdesign by natasha., coded by uxieโ™ก
 
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midas larmanton ; dist. 4
















# victor of the 72nd games




# avan jogia










โ™กcoded by uxieโ™ก








i did it for love.
"i did it for fun."








  • Midas larmanton

    Will your hubris be your downfall, dear Midas? Shall your golden touch pave the paths of destruction? Shine a trail of hope? When will everything be enough?

    (TW: death, violence, a victor's bitter fate, gore)



    i agree








ยฉ weldherwings.

 
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Wren Whitlock | Dist. 12
















#73rd Hunger Games Victor




#Fionn Whitehead










โ™กcoded by uxieโ™ก







"I no longer need sleep to see the nightmare that surrounds me."

Wren Whitlock







  • warning!

    "It wasnโ€™t me these people cared about; it was my capacity to soak up pain like a sponge."

    (Trigger Warning: extreme violence, death, trauma, mentions of disordered eating and starvation, Hunger Games gore)



    i agree







ยฉ weldherwings.

 
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Tarlo Collier | district 12
















# 71st Hunger Games




#Kawennรกhere Devery Jacobs










โ™กcoded by uxieโ™ก








โ€œMy body is a burden.โ€







  • TARLO COLLIER


    "When the sirens sound, you'll hide under the floor but I'm not gonna go down with my hometown in a tornado."

    (trigger warning: violence, hunger games gore, death, trauma )




    enter








ยฉ weldherwings.

 
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Victor Of District #3
































#Rio








# 65th hunger games


















โ™กcoded by uxieโ™ก
















The Peacekeeper
































# โ€œFidoโ€








# >:3




















โ™กcoded by uxieโ™ก


 
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scroll








scroll





โ
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credit
















role role role



let you down.







full name

hello






nicknames

hello






age

hello






d.o.b.

hello






ethnicity

hello






sexuality

hello

































Eat Your Young


Hozier




















01.



visage

















height

answer






weight

answer






hair c.

answer






eye c.

answer






faceclaim

answer























02.



psyche









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likes

answer






dislikes

answer






fears

answer


















03.



history









this scrolls if you add enough content.
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Ut rhoncus libero eu fermentum bibendum. Nullam ac ipsum augue. Donec commodo dui efficitur iaculis venenatis. Mauris a neque pellentesque, faucibus urna vel, dapibus nulla. Sed tincidunt dui sed dictum vestibulum. Ut venenatis urna in elit hendrerit, eu molestie massa efficitur. Nullam sit amet sem ut ligula gravida ultricies. Etiam gravida quis diam at elementum. In dignissim eros ut sapien fringilla, vel lobortis nibh auctor. Sed ut nibh bibendum, tincidunt ex in, mattis odio. Donec egestas facilisis dapibus. Proin varius ornare sapien, at auctor sem lacinia non.


















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gallery


































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06.



miscellaneous

















whatever

hello






whatever

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โ™กcoded by uxieโ™ก
 
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"you're nothing but a pawn in their eyes. irrelevant and easily replaceable. all you can do is play your part well."

ADONIS LAURIER







  • warning!

    โ€œIโ€™ve come too far to stop now. I may be knocked down, but Iโ€™m not knocked out. Iโ€™m going to get back up again. I know Iโ€™m a victor, not a victim.โ€

    (Trigger Warning: extreme violence, death, Hunger Games gore, s*xual content)



    i agree








ยฉ weldherwings.

 
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"the odds are never in our favor."

NIKOLA FRYE







  • warning!

    Hunger Games typical violence, implied SA, death, alcoholism.



    i agree








ยฉ weldherwings.

 
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"evil expects evil from others."
alva kang







  • no longer human

    trigger warning for self-harm, suicidal ideation, alcoholism, trauma, and canon typical violence and death.



    enter hell








ยฉ weldherwings.

 
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Fickhar Hadley- District 2
















# Victor of the 64th Hunger Games




# Daniel Millar










โ™กcoded by uxieโ™ก





https://66.media.tumblr.com/232c090...0344/tumblr_inline_ol4nwhvSwg1uxxza6_75sq.png[/URL]), auto!important;]



"The righteous hand of God, the Devil that you forgot,"

FICKHAR HADLEY







  • warning!

    "I promised I'd make them pay. I intend to keep that promise."

    Following File includes: Death, trauma, Hunger Games gore

    Please continue at your own risk.



    Continue








ยฉ weldherwings.

 
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Fleur Astaret - District Ten
















# 62nd Hunger Games




# Tashi Rodriguez










โ™กcoded by uxieโ™ก









The bitter taste of victory coats my tongue

Fleur Astaret







  • warning!

    Do you ever think that it would've been better if you didn't survive? That someone else deserved the sweet nectar of life and you're only tormented by memories, barely surviving?



    i agree








ยฉ weldherwings.

 
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SAI ESWARA | DISTRICT 1
















# VICTOR OF THE 63RD HUNGER GAMES




# NISHA KUMARI










โ™กcoded by uxieโ™ก



 
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crest shen | district 4




























# victor of the 59th hunger games







# xiao zhan


















โ™กcoded by uxieโ™ก










somewhere in between who i used to be and who i'll be tomorrow (when the champagne blows my mind)

CREST SHEN







  • warning!

    when i die, i will come in fast and low. i will stick the landing. there will be no confusion. the dead will make room for me.

    tw for canon-typical death, violence, addiction.
    [/CENTER]


    proceed.








ยฉ weldherwings.

 
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I have a bone to pick with death.
He still follows me around.









  • the butcher.


    Shot out of the sky.

    Buried underground.



    continue.








ยฉ weldherwings.

 
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Iโ€™m sorry that I did this, the blood is on my hands, I stare at my reflection, I donโ€™t know who I am.

Anson







  • warning!

    The papers say it's doomsday. The button has been pressed, we're gonna nuke each other up boys 'Til old Satan stands impressed. And here it is, our final night alive as the earth burns to the ground.



    i agree








ยฉ weldherwings.

 
Last edited:

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