84th Hunger Games | Semi-Lit | Not Accepting

[reynard]

(( yay for sacrifice charries! XDDDD ))

[Toma.]

Katrina glared at Jace when the knife landed inches from her whiskey. "Now that if a damn good way to gain a completely different nickname. And something broken before you even get into the games." she growled, not happy that he threw the knife near her beloved whiskey. She picked up the glass again and gulped the rest down quickly.

[k i n g]

Cecil hiccuped. They probably had no idea what he meant, but sadly he wasn't in the condition to elaborate. He laid down, closing his blue eyes. He needed sleep. To escape his numb stupor, even if it meant dealing with the nightmaes. He didn't like being vulnerable in front of his tributes. Hated it.

Braden carefully avoided looking at Grant about the tribute question. He couldn't bring up the subject about Hershi. His mind flickered to another. "Well, that District 1 girl was pretty attractive," he blurted, clamling a hand over his mouth as he turned tomato red. Gosh, what a great way to embarrass himself in front of his mentor!

"We both know the odds are not in my favor. My mother died not too long after I was born, then Josslyn won the Games. Too much happiness in the family. The process repeats itself. I'm as goos as dead," Hershi frowns, standing.

[lycr]

Kersey Litster
|District 7|Male|Age 15

He remembered the sharp pricks of pain as the needle had lodged itself firmly into his index finger just under a decade ago. Sure, it was under a decade ago, but the pain had been enough at the time and he cried and wailed and had been hysterical, and now, at this moment, slumped against the rich cushions of the Justice Building’s sofa, he's crying, wailing and becoming hysterical. On the inside, that is.

Oh, screw this- he couldn't go on pretending to be big and brave and funny and witty and all that. He was about to be tossed into an arena and on live television!

He didn't want to focus on his own goodbyes. The fact that they really are happening to him makes him feel endlessly hollow and empty and sort of...this whole thing is unreal, dang it. Dad was sitting numbly, muttering and chanting a mantra under his breath, and mom sits on his right and wails into his shoulders, but he was so numb that he barely feels her clawing at his shoulders. Oh, and on any other time, Kersey would probably just let out a half-hearted laugh, shake his head ever so slightly, telling everyone to brighten up or something. But now? He could barely focus on the world in front of him, horror and disbelief reflected on his, and everyone else around him’s faces.


“Kersey, you have a chance in this. One in twenty-four isn’t so bad.” Finally, Tassel is the one to form a coherent sentence, his hands trembling in his lap, a lopsided little smile forming on his small face. “If you got picked out of ten thousand kids, that’s something special.”

“Besides, it won’t be purely implausible. Miracles are capable of happening any time.” His father had stopped chanting now, his eyes dark as he managed to perk his lip upwards into an acceptable smile. His mother, still clutching his shoulders like a wraith, finally removed her face from his chest, makeup smudged all over.

Kersey allowed himself a smile, although he was losing composure quickly, just screaming on the inside. “I’m going to die, I know it. Just remember to send my stitched-up body some love when it gets sent back to you by air.”

“And maybe you won’t die. Run from that bloodbath of yours and stay alive. Get an axe. We’ll get the whole district to sponsor you.” Saffron, who was usually the first one to break down, was now sitting as pale and quiet as a ghost, one hand raised to dab at her slightly bloodshot eyes.

“Hey, how could you? Many of them couldn’t care less.” With a small, hopeless smile dancing on the edge of Kersey’s lips, he shrugged.

“Kersey!” It was Saffron who snapped at him. “Grow up and stop indulging in your selfish needs! If you don’t want to survive out there-“

“Saffron! How could you?”

Now, to Kersey’s dismay, his family members started to snap at each other. Working at the inside of his cheek with his lip furiously, he finally decided it was to be the last straw before there was a knock at the door.

“It is time for Kersey to make his leave, but I’ll allow another thirty seconds.” The peacekeeper called from outside the door, rapping at it. This one must have had some decency to not barge in like usual peacekeepers would.

“Well, if it is time for me to die-“ Kersey joked, starting to stand up, when his strong, businesslike mother suddenly grabbed his arm, sinking perfectly manicured nails into his skin and gripping at her son like there’s no tomorrow. Kersey bit back a yelp, turning around in alarm.

“-don’t move.” She breathes, her usually beautiful face is absolutely terrifying from the absolute fear that lay in their eyes-people always told him he had his mom’s eyes- “P-please, Kersey. Don’t walk through the door- ignore it... there’s a window right there...we could break it and run-run to the woods and-”

What was left of Kersey’s power was drained from hiding his desperation from his parents and everyone else that came to visit, and he could only turn around, willing her not to kick up a fuss. Now, he was growing just as desperate for her to let go and for him to just go off on his merry way...struggling to keep his cool and explain, Kersey breathed through his teeth. “Mom, please. There’s cameras outside, I have to go-“

“No Kersey! T-they can’t do this to me...I won’t lose another child...I refuse to...we could survive off the land, so what if the security...so what if it doubled during the rebellion...determination can power anything...”

“Marie, you’ll have to let go...you’re becoming delusional...” It seemed like father was going on the same mindframe as Kersey was, as he struggled to pry his desperate wife’s hands off. “The rebellion-“ and here, his voice had lowered an octave- “the rebellion took place a decade away and things...they’re just starting to settle back to normal... you can’t just bring this back up now-“

“NO! NO! Let go of me, LET GO! KERSEY!” Grabbing his arm, her fingers taut over his arm, she pulled him back all too suddenly. Tassel and Saffron stared, petrified and mortified.

The peacekeepers opened the door a peep, and Kersey turned to face them. “Mom, please. I really need to go and they’re waiting-“

“NO! NO! YOU CAN’T DO THIS! HE’S MY SON!”

A pair of peacekeepers rush at them, and one of them forcibly grabbed Kersey’s arms, the other one pulls her backwards, her shrieks nothing but garbled-she can’t even form comprehendible words now.

Well, his games were definitely off towards a rocky start. Hopefully the train ride would improve.

[Peeta Mellark]

○ Tara ○

I sat in a compartment on the train. I had been ignoring my tributes. I haven't even seen them yet. It wasn't that I was shy or unkind.... I was just scared. I had only been a mentor once before last year, and my tributes didn't win... They were killed violently... together. I just couldn't bare the thought of me having to watch two children like that get killed again.
I sighed, knowing I'd have to face the tributes soon.

♣ Aspen ♣

I looked out the window of the train, watching the trees and mountain zoom past me. I wasn't a huge fan of traveling by trains. They made the world go by too fast, not allowing you enough time to enjoy things.
I shifted slightly in my seat, getting a little uncomfortable. I lied my head down on the table. I wonder what my fellow tribute is like.... Kersey. He seemed nice. Perhaps we could make an alliance. My thoughts slowly drifted away as I dozed off.

◘ Thread ◘

I was lying down on a seat on the train. It was very comfy, and it felt good to have a comfortable thing to lay on for once. My bed in District Eight was hard as a rock, but then again it was my bed at home. Home... The place I wanted to be at more than anywhere.
I fumbled around with my jacket pocket, wondering if there was anything I could call a token. Unfortunately, there was nothing. Father must have forgotten about giving me a token because I didn't get one. I shrugged. A token was that important.
I sat up and looked around for the other tribute. She was no where to be seen which was alright with me. She didn't seem very nice, and I knew she wouldn't like a little thirteen year old like me.

[Freedom~Tonight]

"I wasn't going to hit it." He smiled. and then thought to add. "The capitol wouldn't want anything to happen to their precious tributes." He played a game with her, not really meaning anything other than show a small distaste for the games.

[gloaming]

Adrian watched their numb mentor lay down and pass out. Standing up and brushing the crushed glass from his clothes he dumped the last few pieces in the bin. "I'll stay here incase he wakes up. Neither of you have to stic, around."

[Toma.]

Katrina shook her head. "Oh whatever, just don't touch my whiskey." she said and rolled her eyes. She sat down on the bar stool and pulled out her locket that she was given as a token from her mother and her best friend, Tanner. She opened the bent up locket and looked at the picture of her entire family and Tanner inside. She sighed softly and smiled slightly thinking of the times before they were in the games.

[belle reve]

Cecil hiccuped. They probably had no idea what he meant, but sadly he wasn't in the condition to elaborate. He laid down, closing his blue eyes. He needed sleep. To escape his numb stupor, even if it meant dealing with the nightmaes. He didn't like being vulnerable in front of his tributes. Hated it.

Braden carefully avoided looking at Grant about the tribute question. He couldn't bring up the subject about Hershi. His mind flickered to another. "Well, that District 1 girl was pretty attractive," he blurted, clamling a hand over his mouth as he turned tomato red. Gosh, what a great way to embarrass himself in front of his mentor!

"We both know the odds are not in my favor. My mother died not too long after I was born, then Josslyn won the Games. Too much happiness in the family. The process repeats itself. I'm as goos as dead," Hershi frowns, standing.

~Grant Odair~

District 4 | Mentor
Location: Train to Capitol
Feeling: "Well, my head hurts like crap,
I'm worried out of my mind for Josslyn,
"And I feel I need to be somewhat useful."
Status: Dating Josslyn Foxwood
Crush: Josslyn Foxwood
Talking to: Braden and Isla

Grant looked over at Braden, emitting a quiet laugh. "Thanks for letting me know. Be sure not to let her use hotness as a weapon against you." He offered a small smile. After all, Grant felt he was a little too harsh on the tributes at first impression. In fact, he knew he shouldn't have walked out the way he did. It could have worried them in the stability of the man that could very well be the start of the driving force between their life and death. No matter how horrible he felt, for them or Josslyn, the mentor couldn't let on. "Anything else?"

~Grace~

Grace frowned. "The Gamemakers can't kill you directly. They can rive you towards another tribute, but thats about it. Outsmart them. Whatever they throw at you, turn the tables on them." She gave a small, devious smile. "Or, plan B: Join up with the Careers, then slaughter them in the night. The Gamemakers would have to keep a cause of drama around for a while." Honestly, she said this to offer support, and she believed Hershi could pull it off.

[lycr]

Mimosa Tanager
|District 10|Female|Age 18|

Mimosa hunched down at the table, fiddling with the hair tie as she watched the landscape run past them, blurred.

It would be an excellent way to describe how she was feeling presently. Just blurred, and still dizzy on the reality of this situation. Of course, every resident eligible for Reapings, in every district has had at least one nightmare about going into the Games and never coming back, and the nightmares were no where near as pleasant. The last nightmare she had about the Reapings were like last year, she didn’t indulge in such silly, childish things anymore, ever since she came of age.

But then again, getting reaped was not anywhere on her itinerary, so it completely caught her off guard, and was like a bad dream that she couldn’t get rid of.

Chewing compulsively down on her nails, Mimosa hummed between her teeth, recalling the final goodbye she shared with her tearful fiancé before she just had to be dragged here and carted off to the slaughterhouse.

They call the Capitol that, some of the District 10 citizens, because that’s where District 10 children go to get slaughtered like so many of the pigs that District 10 was famous for slaughtering. People have called them heartless for sacrificing such animals, but there was no such thing as heartless. Everyone had their different vary of heartless.

Drumming her fingers against the tabletop and still fiddling and stretching the hair tie she was given, she perched her chin on her free hand, just thinking. She had a shot in the Games, her start was better than most. For one, she was a quick runner. She could also handle a whip-as much as she hated whipping her little ponies and cows, she’s learned over the years that just a quick flick would get them running, and she’ll admit it was more than cruel. Any other weapons? She asked herself. She took a small swordfighting course as part of the research that came with writing the latest adventure drabble, but couldn’t remember much.

Well, this is just swell.