( ωαтcн уσυя вαcк - )

[thaliana,]

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

ｑｕｉｔｔｅｒｓ
ｎｅｖｅｒ ｗｉｎ.

ａ ｗｉｎｎｅｒ
ｎｅｖｅｒ ｑｕｉｔｓ;

...name - elliott julius finch.
...age - sixteen years old.
...gender - male.
...district - three [technology].

...preferred weapon - possibly throwing stars, or knives.
...strengths - swiftness and stamina; speed. ingenuity.
...ability to adapt to situations. aim; co-ordination.
...common-sense and strategic skills.
...weaknesses - brute and upper-body strength. force
...no ability to concentrate, hunt, or remain patient.

...personality -not much of a physical character, preferring
...to play with his gadgets and fiddle with wires as opposed
...to hitting the gym. an undeniable focus, but lacks social
...skills. shy, and not the most open, tends to judge before
...he gets to know somebody. determined, but a joker. does
...not take situations seriously enough to succeed. technical
...thinker, seeing mechanics as opposed to organisms.
...items - the green backpack: a pouch of pouch of throwing
...stars, a blanket, bottle of water, and fingerless gloves.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

[glassea]

unfortunately, we've reached our limit of female characters, so if you'd like a character the male gender will have to suffice. we'll begin as soon as we get one more guy. again, if you know anyone who might be interested, please message me or tell them to message me.
oh, and if someone wants to take on that last male so we can start it'd be much appreciated c:

whoops, i lied. we're full! please finish up your forms.
charmey - you're still in. i don't mean to worry you with this message.

[phenomenon]

ＪＡＣＱＵＥＬＹＮ
ＷＯＬＦＥ
• the adventurous girl of district seven •

ＳＫＩＬＬ ＳＴＡＴＵＳ

xxxxw.o.c.: axe, knives or bow
xxxxallies: arlo [city's charrie]
xxxxenemies: everyone, probably.

xxxxclose combat: 5 or 6 if she had a weapon
xxxxxotherwise, she'd be a 3 or maybe a 4
xxxxrange combat: 8 or maybe a 9 if she had a
xxxxxbow or any knife. axe if not too far away.

xxxxstealth: 8 out of 10, in trees = 9
xxxxstrength: 6 out of 10, decent strength
xxxxspeed: 9 at the start, then 4 or 5
xxxxstamina: 9 out of 10, for a long while

xxxxhunting: 9 out of 10, thank you d.7

xxxxworks better solo or teamed up?: she
xxxxxrather work with someone or more. she
xxxxxtends to panic in heated situations if she
xxxxxis alone. 4 to 6 = solo / 8 = teamed

xxxxoverall survival skills: an easy 8. combat
xxxxxunless it's axes, knives, or bows, is not
xxxxxthat great. the forest taught her the rest.

xxxxxxfull name: jacquelyn wolfe
xxxxxxnicknames: "jackie" or "wolf" even
xxxxxxgender: female, girl, lady, etc
xxxxxxage: sixteen years young
xxxxxxlooks: 5'7", lean and athletic. she
xxxxxxxhas brown hair that flows over
xxxxxxxher shoulders and coffee eyes.
xxxxxxxgentle-looking, yet fierce within.

xxxxxxdistrict: district seven
xxxxxxtraining score: she got a decent 6
xxxxxxtoken: a leather braided bracelet
xxxxxxitems: red backpack: gloves +
xxxxxxx3 iyc [ blanket, matches, knife ].
xxxxxxxand a single snare.

xxxxxxtraits: strong-willed, stubborn
xxxxxxxresourceful, and very adventurous
xxxxxxstrengths: knowledge of being in a
xxxxxxxforest, climbs trees like a squirrel,
xxxxxxxstealth, she can run fast in the
xxxxxxxbeginning, but she is better with
xxxxxxxstamina. logical thinking.
xxxxxxweaknesses: close combat. maybe
xxxxxxxif she had a sword/knife. little
xxxxxxxindecisive. gullible sometimes.

[charmey]

═════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════
ＧＡＵＧＥ ＪＡＣＯＢ ＰＥＲＴＨＳＨＩＲＥ
═════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════

→ｔｈｅ ｆｉｒｓｔ ｉｍｐｒｅｓｓｉｏｎ．

-- name;; gauge jacob perthshire.
-- pronounced;; gay-ja | jay-cob | purr-thh-shire.
-- nickname;; g.
-- age;; seventeen years old.
-- gender;; male.
-- district;; two.
-- fc;; garrett clayton.

- - - - →ｔｈｅ ｍｉｒｒｏｒ ｉｍａｇｅ．

-- hair color;; rich chocolate brown.
-- eye color;; hazel.
-- height;; five foot nine.
-- weight;; one hundred sixty eight pounds.
-- skin;; tanned caucasian.
-- body build;; lean and fairly muscular.
-- modifications;; none.

- - - - →ｔｈｅ ｒｅｌａｔｉｏｎｓ．

-- family;; mother briar, father atlas, older brother crucis.
-- pet[s];; none.
-- allies;; district one and four's tributes- the careers.
-- enemies;; everyone who's not a career.
-- crush[es];; n/a.
-- current relationship[s];; n/a.
-- past relationship[s];; aldaina george.

- - - - →ｔｈｅ ｔｒｉｂｕｔｅ'ｓ ｃｈａｎｃｅｓ．

-- good traits;; protective, flamboyant, arrogant, humorous, understanding, determined.
-- bad traits;; predictable, gullible, impatient, insecure appearance-wise, no common sense.
-- dreams;; winning the hunger games.
-- fears;; small spaces.
-- token;; n/a.
-- training score;; eight.
-- weapon(s) of choice;; spears and throwing blades.
-- strengths;; incredible aim, quick to react, close combat, speed and stamina.
-- weaknesses;; claustrophobia, strategic skills, ingenuity. he lacks the brains necessary to make it on his own, therefore he is very dependent on the other careers.
-- items;; he somehow got his hands on a large throwing axe. not ideal, as he would have much appreciated a spear, but he can use it well. he also grabbed a pink backpack which contained a blanket, rope, box of food, and a snare.

[n a v y . blue]

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Ａ --- Ｒ --- Ｌ --- Ｏ

┗━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━┛
a;sdlfja;dfja;sdjfasdfasdf

▂▂▂ --- ▂▂▂ --- ▂▂▂ --- ▂▂▂

asldkfj;asdfasdf


ｄｉｓｔｒｉｃｔ --- ｓｅｖｅｎ

as;fkljas;dfa;sdfka;dfj and thkdk dkadkls idk aldkckci kddad

┏━━━━━━━━━━━━━━┓

name: arlo imm
pronunciation: AHR-low IH-mm
nickname: ar
age: eighteen
gender: male
district: seven - lumber

height: 5 foot 10 inches
weight: 164 lbs
hair: brown
eyes: dark blue
skin: tanned, white
build: muscular from job
extras: none

persona: tough, do whatever
it takes to get the job done,
do it today
strengths: brute force,
strategy, willpower, pain tolerance
grew up in the woods, all kinds
of conditions, quick on his toes
weaknesses: impatient,
doesn't listen well, takes a lot
to knock sense into him,
hard headed, ignorant, cocky

┗━━━━━━━━━━━━━━┛

┏━━━━━━━━━━━━┓

w.o.c.: axe, knives
anything thrown and sharp

┗━━━━━━━━━━━━┛

┏━━━━━━━━━━━━┓

ally: jacquelyn

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score: 3 [on purpose]

┗━━━━━━━━━━━━┛

┏━━━━━━━━━━━━┓

items: silver pack, sleeping bag
fingerless gloves

┗━━━━━━━━━━━━┛

ＩＮ ＴＨＥ ＡＲＥＮＡ

┏━━━━━━━━━━━━┓

stealth: 8 / 10

┗━━━━━━━━━━━━┛

┏━━━━━━━━━━━━┓

strength: 9 / 10

┗━━━━━━━━━━━━┛

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speed: 7 / 10

┗━━━━━━━━━━━━┛

┏━━━━━━━━━━━━┓

stamina: 7 / 10

┗━━━━━━━━━━━━┛

[glassea]

a few things before we begin;
first off, i don't need to start. we'll be beginning at the gong - no training or anything.
anyone is free to make the first post. just reread the arena description for good measure.
all excess items will automatically go the careers. they won't own the items personally, but they will have access to them.
i'm not too sure how we'll orchestrate things like destroying supplies or attacking another tribute. if you'd like to do something along those lines, i suggest you message the roleplayer in question. similarly, it would be cool to have alliances. please pm each other to figure that sort of stuff out.
yep, that's it. my post will be up here later tonight. i hope this lasts!

[glassea]

ＮＥＲＩＳＳＡ
ｍａｙｌｏｒ

┏━━━━━━━━━━━━━━-┓

age: fourteen
district: eight
weapon of choice: knife
health: 10
injuries: none so far
speed: 9
strength: 6
stamina: 8
stealth: 4
intelligence: 10
combat: 5
items: white backpack, 2
knives, blanket, gloves,
wire
allies: calla
location: cornucopia
feeling: paralyzed
doing: running
tagged: calla [thought]

┗━━━━━━━━━━━━━━-┛

you don't wear her chains

nerissa is terrified. up rises her plate. up goes her heartbeat. nerissa is petrified. knowing your death is probably only seconds away is a lot to bear for a fourteen-year-old. but in the games, "i'm too young to die" is no excuse. there are people here far younger than nerissa that she is sure deserve to live just as much as she does. but to win, nerissa will have to kill. there has never been a winner of the hunger games with a blank kill list, for obvious reasons. sweat begins to pour off nerissa's face as she ignores the final lackluster wave of her stylist [she never liked him anyways] but it's not all due to nerves. a good portion of her persperation can be linked to her clothes. nerissa feels ridiculous, like a snowman or something. and her clothing is hot. but then her plate breaks the surface and nerissa decides she's glad for her heavy clothing.

the scene that stretches before her is something that horrifies her. the first thing she notices is the cold. it's freezing, with the wind whipping at her chapped lips and exposed bits of skin. she almost instanly begins shivering. nerissa loathes the cold; has never really felt it in her home district. at least not like this. nerissa looks to her left, seeing calla there. their mentors had made an agreement - the two of them were formal allies. nerissa was fine with that. she likes calla, but not so much that it will be a problem to kill her. the beginning of the countdown startles nerissa, and although her mentors told her to run, nerissa isn't planning to. if she goes out she wants it to be good. nerissa's fast for her age, and a good sprinter. the pent-up strength her limbs possess from a lifetime of heaving slabs of meat around for her father will give her a fast start. and once she gets going, nerissa knows she can mentally encourage herself to keep going. her eyes settle on a white backpack not too far away. that one's mine, she thinks. who knows what could be inside. but nerissa's not leaving with nothing.

the gong rings and nerissa's off, head down, arms pumping. she might be short but the power stored in her limbs can be released at the drop of a pin. around her others are running too - some towards the cornucopia, some into the woods. running through the snow that covers the ground is hard going, but she manages. that is, she manages until she falls on her face. there's no option but to get up and keep going, and nerissa pushes herself up. she doesn't know where calla is now, doesn't know where anyone is, really. her numb fingers catch something that's not snow and she hold it up to her face in order to see. a coil of wire. they learned how to make one of these in training, and nerissa comes from the fabric district. she might be a butcher's daughter but arts and crafts are her thing. wait, wire? she must be closer to the pack then she realizes. nerissa sees it then, almost blending in with the snow. her hands reach and it's finally in her grasp. then nerissa's up and running, brain panicking, in any direction away from here.

[n a v y . blue]

┏━━━━━━━━━━━━━━┓

-- ＩＮ ＴＨＥ ＡＲＥＮＡ

w.o.c.: axe, knives
anything thrown and sharp
ally: jacquelyn
score: 3 [on purpose]
items: silver pack, sleeping bag
fingerless gloves
stealth: 8 / 10
strength: 9 / 10
speed: 7 / 10
stamina: 7 / 10

┗━━━━━━━━━━━━━━┛

--ｄｉｓｔｒｉｃｔ --- ｓｅｖｅｎ

┏━━━━━━━━━━━━━━┓

ＴＡＧＧＥＤ: jacquelyn [via thought]

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Ａ --- Ｒ --- Ｌ --- Ｏ

┗━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━┛
a;sdlfja;dfja;sdjfasdfasdf

▂▂▂ --- ▂▂▂ --- ▂▂▂ --- ▂▂▂

------- It would continue to echo his conscience for a long, long time.
------- he stared at the supplies in his hands, just behind the treeline, stooped low in the snow, in case a career or other bloodthirsty tribute managed to crawl his way. the bloodbath was under way. he could hear the screaming.
------- Arlo's face stung from the cold and bitter wind. this would be a difficult hunger games, and he really could only hope the game makers didn't supply infrared goggles, because it would make all tributes who started a fire so they didn't freeze to death a sitting target. No fun with no fight. the voice boomed over the cornucopia, flashing the numbers. Four ... Three ... Two ... One ... Arlo didn't even have time to look at jacquelyn.
------- Arlo stood, shoved everything inside his backpack, flipped his hood up, shoved his hands in his pockets, and trudged further into the snow-covered woods, trying to leave no trail, but enough signs that jacquelyn could find him later. he wasn't going to make himself an easy target, and if she had been caught, there was nothing he could do. Arlo had a family to make it back to, and he wasn't about to risk it all for a girl from his home district. sure, he would help her to the best of his abilities, but if she was caught, and there was no obvious way for him to escape with her, she would just have to die. it was the unsaid rule of the hunger games.
------- gong! Arlo sprinted [or stumbled, with the boots he was wearing] forward to the nearest supply; fingerless gloves. better than no gloves at all, and it left your fingers able to work. The only downside was you may or may not get frostbite, but that was something he would worry about later. he raced a little further on, keeping tabs on the area around him, making sure no careers got close. the little girl from eight sprinted close by, but she wasn't a killer, and neither was he. at least, she didn't look like one. but she ran fast enough it didn't matter. her best option would be to keep going, because quite frankly, if Arlo had to, he could throw her in front of a career, and boom, she's dead.
------- There's no time to see what he stole from the cornucopia except the spears and the gloves he was wearing. Arlo wanted to find Jacquelyn. He wanted to make sure his ally was safe, because even if he couldn't save her, he wanted to know her fate. he believed in her, however, and knew she would make it out alright.
------- about a foot away from the gloves he picked up is a shimmery glob against the white snow ... something metallic. silver. a silver backpack! he steps towards it, and just in time. a tribute he's only briefly seen in training held out his hands for it and came crashing to the ground just as Arlo yanked it away. did he dare scoot along the edge of the cornucopia's mouth, risking his life for a sleeping bag? or even a weapon?
------- his first thought was to get up as high as he could, but what good would it do? Arlo knew that everything in the arena was booby trapped, and it was only a matter of time before he fell into one. He couldn't decide between burrowing in the snow or climbing ... if only he could find Jacquelyn.
------- Arlo tripped over something silvery ... something with a sharp point, judging by the shape it left in the snow. a ... spear! but as he saw movement from the corner of his eyes, arlo realized he definitely didn't need a spear. he needed a sleeping bag that yet another tribute was moving for. before anybody knew what was happening, Arlo barreled into the faceless child and yanked the chilly bag from the frozen spot in the snow. maybe, just maybe, he could get away with this. before anything else could catch up with him, arlo sprinted towards the woods, hoping he could get away from the other deadly tributes.

[prismatic]

ＢＡＩＬＥＹ Ｆ.
ｄｉｓｔｒｉｃｔ ｆｏｕｒ
┏━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━┓

ＬＩＫＥ Ａ ＦＩＳＨ ＯＵＴ ＯＦ ＷＡＴＥＲ
age: seventeen
district: four
w.o.c: spears

health: ten
strength: nine
stamina: eight
speed: seven
stealth: five
combat: nine
intelligence: six
injuries: small forehead cut
items: a spear, the gray pack:
sleeping bag, knife, matches, w. bottle
allies: corinthia, catherine,
tobias, skylar, gauge

location: cornucopia
doing: fighting and gathering stuff
mood: a mix of several emotions:
anger, sadness, and confidence.
with: all the tributes

tagged: guy from five
guy from nine
arlo [via somewhat action]

┗━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━┛

xxxxxIt was happening. It was finally time. All the preparation he'd had in the past years, as well as the training he had the last few days. It was something he'd always remember. Scoring a ten with the judges was a satisfactory thing for him, a pleasant thing to see. Thia had gotten a seven, which was decent, but a bit lower than a career could have gotten. It was still workable though - a pretty face such as hers was bound to get sponsors regardless of her score. These are probably the only thoughts that flickered through Bailey's mind as his plate rose upward. How well he had done - but not how well he would do. Assuring himself that he was going to win was never even an option, knowing that if he did he'd get cocky about it and there'd be a fatal slip-up.
xxxxxThe gong sounded and in an instant he was off his plate. It was a short distance to a grey pack - something he dug through long enough to find a knife before zipping it back up and slinging it over his shoulders. In that amount of time the tribute from five had rushed at him, nothing but his fists held out to fight with the career. Big mistake. All it took was one swing of the weapon in his hand to the right location to drop the guy. Poor Bailey couldn't catch a break, seeing as the guy from nine attempted to do the same. Maybe it was suppose to be some sort of team-up-on-the-career plan that failed. This time though he had a knife as well. The brunette was counting on his combat in addition for this one, and one kick to the chest and he was knocked to the ground. That wasn't before he got a decent slash at the district four tribute, giving him a medium sized cut on his forehead. Nothing major or not fixable, but it hurt to say the least. It was a matter of seconds before he finished the job completely. A sudden wave of anger and sadness built within him, driving a frustrated puff from his chilled lips. He didn't like killing people - but he had to. He was a career, it was in their nature to battle. To win.
xxxxxHe needed a spear. He really needed a spear. Darting for the mouth of the cornucopia he managed to hop over the fallen bodies and weave around the other careers fighting with the tributes. It was in his sight-line - a silvery spear that was just begging to be put to use. His eyes narrowed as he spotted Arlo only inches from it, an angry huff coming from him in that moment. Bailey charged, a sudden boost of rage and confidence in him. However by the time he reached the spear the kid had taken off, a sleeping bag in hand. Never would Bailey let someone get off so easily. It wouldn't be the last time he saw Arlo. He'd make sure of it.

[charmey]

ＧＥＮＤＥＲ;; male
ＡＧＥ ;; seventeen.
ＤＩＳＴＲＩＣＴ ;; two.
ＬＯＣＡＴＩＯＮ ;; cornucopia.
ＭＯＯＤ ;; anxious, confident.
ＨＥＡＬＴＨ ;; ten.
ＩＮＪＵＲＩＥＳ ;; small cut on cheek.
ＡＬＬＩＥＳ ;; catherine, tobias,
corinthia, bailey, skylar.
ＷＥＡＰＯＮＳ ;; large throwing axe.
ＩＴＥＭＳ ;; pink pack [blanket,
rope, box of food, snare].
ＫＩＬＬＥＤ ;; district ten's boy.
ＴＡＧＧＥＤ ;; ten boy via action.
↠ ｇａｕｇｅ ｐｅｒｔｈｓｈｉｒｅ ↞
____________________________________________________

------>when facing certain death, most people think of their loved ones. the fond memories of childhood. the bittersweet dreams of a yet-lived future. its only natural. as humans we have an unwavering need for relationships. not just in the search for a proper mate, but relationships in general. a mother, a father, freinds, siblings. that's why death is so difficult. to cope with, anyways. i mean its rather easy to kill, wouldn't you say? just a slip of the wrist here, just a bit more pressure there. of course the actual action may be easy, but there's no comparison to the toll that murder, accidental or purposeful, takes on one's sanity. the guilt, the self hatred. this in mind, its curious how the view on murder can be ever so light as it is in panem. its sick, really. but does anyone get queasy? nope. instead they display organized bloodbaths annually and nationally. and any child lucky enough to be apart of it was to be in debt to the capitol.
------>gauge knew this and understood it. now was his time to shine. in this moment, as he was lifted up on a silver platter to be presented to the world, all he could think about was the victor's ceremony; being crowned by president snow himself, being praised by the entire capitol, the victor's parade through all the districts, the fame and fortune he would soon be receiving. now these are not the thoughts one should really be thinking at a time like this. one cocky misstep and you could be dead within the blink of an eye. but this was gauge for you. as far as he knew he'd already won the whole game.
------>he was off as soon as the gong sounded. white kicked up behind him as he ran, or rather fumbled, through the uneven terrain. snow was something gauge was really not equipped for. curses along with spittle spewed from the corners of his mouth. his breath was short and quick, his chest constricted by the freezing air. besides these setbacks he made it fairly quickly to the cornucopia. a pastel pink bag was the only thing he could see clearly through the snow that bombarded his vision. his fingers dug into the creasing fabric as he grabbed it. it never occurred to him there may be a weapon in the bag, as he slung it quickly over his shoulder without a second thought. he cast a wide-eyed look to his surroundings. he could make out a few tributes, as some were already laying in a puddle of red against the white snow, but everyone was wearing thick white trench coats that camouflaged with the white surroundings. the gamemakers sure didn't want to make it easy on them these game's.
------>suddenly he couldn't breath. suddenly he couldn't see. it took a second for him to realize it was a tribute's coat and not snow that was smothering him, as it was the same temperature as the ground he was currently pinned to. gauge dodged the fast blow aimed at his face with a quick move of the head. as the boy from ten's fist plowed into the frozen ground, gauge gripped his shoulder's and kneed him in the stomach. the thick coat easily cushioned the harsh blow, but it was still enough to make the boy grunt in pain as he rolled off of gauge into the snow beside him. in a flash gauge took the tribute's previous position on top of him. the boy fought back well, gauge would admit, but not nearly well enough. close combat was gauge's greatest strength, weapon or no weapon. ten's hand covered gauge's face. the pressure on his eyes made it clear the kid was attempting to gouge them out. adrenaline roared in his ears. gauge could hardly see his hands wrap around the boy's throat. a quick rush of pressure and his thumbs broke into the boy's windpipe. ten's hand slumped to the frozen ground, lifeless. gauge was back on his feet within the moment, completely unfazed by what he had just done. a crescent of silver caught his eye. it was just a few feet away. how had he missed it before he wondered. there was no need to desperately dash for the item. there was no one around for five feet, and apparently that was enough for gauge to be comfortable leisurely walking along in. his grip slid around the black leather band as he lifted the weapon from the snow. his image flickered in the shining metal. and for the first, but certainly not the last, time the tribute paused the fighting, the killing, risked his own bloody safety- all to fix his damned hair.