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Okay, so I
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Hunger Games RP - Please Join!
Okay, so I...
Okay, so I have read the Hunger Games! And AMAZING!!!! Anyway, I would like to make an RP since the last one died and at the time I knew little about the books.
I read the books in German so I need some English words. In the German books Katniss calls the day when the tributes are chosen "Ernte" meaning harvest. Is it the same in English?
And the second one: Are those scientifically changed Mockingbirds called Mutations?
Here's my character.
Name: Laurel Alvarez
Age: 12
District: 12
Family: Father, Mother, Lamar (18), Cayenne (13), Coriander (5)
Appearance: Thick chocolate brown hair that falls to her waist; mysterious dark grey eyes; very thin and small for her age; olive colored skin
Personality: Very shy and loves animals
Other: Her father works in the mines where her brother will also start soon.
If your character dies then you can take the part of the other tribute from your district (if not already taken), your mentor, someone in the stands or a family member or friend. We will decide who the winner is later.
submitted by Elizabeth M. , age 12, Germany
(September 12, 2011 - 8:33 am)
(September 12, 2011 - 8:33 am)
@E.M.: No prob and oh! So you do live in Germany but are American! Oh! *headdesk* I am so not-so-smart sometimes. And yes I am a Canuck. ;)
Sorry I haven't been posting much. I've been distracted by theory homework *groan* the other HG RP and TNO's HP fic.
//Calico// not in first person
Calico's family came in to see her first. Her older sister gave her a ribbon made of calico fabric.
"For a token," she said.
Then came Mizz, Tartan, and a bunch of other people from the school. They gave her advice.
"Aim straight." "Go for the kill." "Don't be sympathetic."
Then the escort came and she was led onto the train, headed straight for the Capitol.
Bleh. That was terrible. Sorry! The plot bunnies are on vacation.
(September 18, 2011 - 8:31 am)
//Vaviar//
We were both led into the dining cart, where we were told to sit while Avox's delivered our food. Giving them the Avox who set a bowl full of long, creamy white noodles a smile, which caused her to run off into the room ajar. I lifted my spoon, glancing at Laurel, whose entire face was englufed in the soup. Chuckling, I spooned the broth, catching a few noodles, and ate it all. Two of the courses were soon done, along with half a dozen bread rolls and little pieces of bread with creamy liquid inside it. With a full stomach, I excused myself from the table, walked towards my room with a removable plaque that said "Vaviar Lemenson" on it. I changed into slilky white linens and crawled silently into bed. For hours I sat awake, imagining that I was actually at home, that the wafty air around was full of the scent of fresh herbs and medicine, I was going to wake up and go to school, and it would be a normal after-Reaping day, with two families that weren't mine were depressed, and that night I would be watching the begining of the Hunger Games with Ma, and Besty and Minsia and Arson. A single, quiet tear fell down my cheeck, and I felt better. I just needed to let that out. I had no time before, with all those bug-like cameras. There was noise from next door, and I remembered that my room was between our mentor, Loyanda, and Laurel. They were probably the ones making all the noise. I walked out of my room and knocked on Laurel's door. "Laurel?"
Also, should we either make Vaviar younger or Laurel older? Because I just think that either they should both be in the same age group or closer to the same age, if we're going to continue with them have a romance.
(September 18, 2011 - 6:50 pm)
Well, I can make her older if you want. I mean that doesn't exactly work with the beginning I did, but whatever. Laurel's new age is fourteen, okay?
(September 19, 2011 - 9:03 am)
Cooliosness :)
(September 19, 2011 - 6:21 pm)
Will post asap. I have to get some homework done.
(September 20, 2011 - 10:23 am)
LaurelAlvarez-
Before we got in the train, I had promised myself not to touch any food that came from the hands of the capitol. But I did. I ate everything. And surprisingly, it helped me forget; but only for a little while.
In the evening, I am led to my room which has a small note with my name scrawled onit.
I open the door and am engulfed in plump pillows, perfectly painted white walls, silky red covers and fluffy red carpet that feels so very smooth and watery on my feet.
Even though all of this is there, the room is empty and horrifically scary for all chairs, floors and bedspreads are red. Red as blood.
I feel nausea come over me and rush into the gigantic bathroom. The shower is the size of my shared bedroom at home, the sink is polished marble. But everything, bathmats, towels, facecloths are red.
I sink down on the floor and cover my face in my hands, letting a tear drip down my cheek.
Then I grab the nearest thing I can get to- a vase of red roses- and throw it at the wall. It hits with a loud crack and crashes to the floor in a hundred little splinters. Roses fly everywhere.
And again, and again. I throw everything I can get, too. Glass, soaps, canisters of bath salts… It all ends up breaking at my feet.
My hands and feet are cut and bleeding the color of the bedspread. I don’t care.
I hear a thumping on the door, yet I keep throwing.
A loud crash and Loyanda races in, her eyes wild. I keep throwing.
She grabs me by the shoulders and drags me into the bedroom. She shuts the door. I make a grab for a lamp, but she’s too fast. She briskly corners me on the wall.
Her face is an inch from mine. I can smell the stale smell of alcohol in her breath.
I try to break free, but her grasp is like an invisible iron bar. I don’t stop the struggle.
Loyanda strikes me across the face. It burns more than the glass splinters on my feet. Another slap and another. By the fourth, I begin to scream. “MAMA! DADDY!” It sounds like a witch’s shrill screech. Another slap.
“LAMAR!” Someone pulls Loyanda away from me and I sink to the floor. “Cayenne, Ben,” I say the last words almost as a whisper. Then I scream shrilly again. Someone is pulling me towards them. Then a hand covers my mouth.
“Laurel,” Vaviar’s bright eyes hover over me. “Laurel? Are you okay?”
“I’m going to die,” I whisper, my voice muffled by his hand.
Then I feel his arms around me. His strong arms feel like a circle protecting me from the world and I hold on tighter. I hold on to my protector.
(September 21, 2011 - 10:17 am)
//Vaviar//
Her breathing is short and shaky. Her face is still sore and bright red. Her hands are dripping with foul-smelling blood. And yet still, I grasp her, and she holds on to me, until after a while she lets go, and I wish she hadn't because in a few days I'll be trying to kill her and she'll be trying to kill me and this moment will be forgotten. She sniffled, breathed in one last, shaky breath, then said, "Thanks, Vaviar. You better get down to your room." "Yup, of course." I nodded, disappointed. I walked back out of the room and across the hall into my own. After showering and settling into bed, I lay there, awake for hours, thinking about how horrible my life is.
(September 21, 2011 - 7:45 pm)
Eva-
I hadtold Vaviar to go. But why? His arms around me felt so comforting and good butnow he was gone and I was surrounded by the nightmare I had conjured up.
Myhands still bled when I finally made up my mind to get into the bed. Before myhead even hit the pillow I was already asleep.
***
“Laurel?Laurel!” I feel someone shaking me and open my eyes. Lena is standing wideawake with perfect gold rimmed eyes and dark gold lipstick.
“Nowdeary, it’s time for breakfast. Get on up.” She exits and I walk into thebathroom. There I undress and step into the shower. It is different than athome. The water turns from cold to hot in seconds.
Whenthe hot water hits my hands and feet, they burn. I turn the palm of my righthand so that it is facing me. Long red scars are everywhere. I gasp,remembering the darkness, glass and blood.
Then Iremember Vaviar. Vaviar who had held me while I cried. Vaviar who had let myblood stain his clothes. Vaviar… Vaviar who I would have to kill in the arena.
Thethought reminded me of the time Lamar had given me a foul nut as a child. I hadtaken it, hungry and grateful as I was. I had shelled it and stuffed it in mymouth all at once. The taste had been purely awful and all Lamar had done, wasto roll on the ground, laughing.
I drymy hair and put it up in a ponytail without bothering to brush. I put a freshshirt and pair of skin fitting cordoroys on.
Thewaft of breakfast fills my nose as I enter. Loyanda is no where to be seen.Vaviar is sitting in the corner and Lena at the head of the table.
“Thereyou are, Laurel. We’ll be in the Capitol soon, sweetie. Eat up.”
I sitdown and a dark haired Avox serves me a bowl of fruit salad with a steamingplatter of bagels with butter, cream cheese and jam.
Breakfastgoes on in almost silence. Of course, Lena tries to lighten it all up.
“Andwhat do you think it will be like?” “Won’t it be exciting?” “Have you ever beento the Capitol before?” “It will be fascinating for you!”
The trainpulls in and I get my first glimpse of the Capitol.
(September 22, 2011 - 10:37 am)
//Vaviar//
A knock on my door. It's Lena. "Wake up Vaviar! It's going to be an exxxciting day!" Even though her words are over-excited, the tone is curt and rude. It's obvious she's just itching to be promoted to a 'better' district. I roll off my bed and flop onto the floor, last night still engraved in my mind. After a minute or so, I pushed my self up and put some clothing on, exitting my plush capitol-style room and into the hall way. The windows were already tinted black. I walked down the narrow train hallway and into the dining hall. Laurel, Lena, and a woman whom I'd never seen before. Lena stood up, but Laurel avoided my gaze. Her hands were still covered withs scars, and I'm sure her feet looked the same. "Vaviar, I've been waiting for you and Laurel both to be here. This is your mentor, Caliona." She was twirling her hair in her finger. "Yeah, I am. You two better stay alive, I got a rep to build." She was chewing something that added a tang to her voice. I immediately hated her. It looked like Laurel was the same, she was staring her down with a vicious look of detestment. I sat down beside her, and picked up the fork, stabbing the breakfast with a bit more strength than ususal. "So, what're your strengths?" Caliona asked. "I'm strong. Can identify plants. Know how to heal. Run. A bit of catching. A bit of climbing. Figure I can live for a while." "Okay, look, what's your name?" "Vaviar," I said curtly. "Okay, Vaviar, if you're so fast, then you're going to run to the Cornucopia. Get food, backpacks, as many weapons you can reach. Then get out of there. Find water. Don't do anything until you have a good source of water. Then learn how to use those weapons. You squeamish at blood?" I shook my head. "Good. You'll be seeing a lot of it soon."
(September 22, 2011 - 8:27 pm)
I would write more, but I forgot something. Are the Tributes led to the place they're staying first or do they have the parade through the streets? What about the interview? Sorry, I'm so mixed up.
LaurelAlvarez-
Caliona turns to me with a smirk on her face. She takes a long time studying me. The smirk on her face adjusts to a sneer. I know what she’s thinking.
This girl won’t last through the cornucopia. And if she does, she won’t get far. So bony and weak.
“And you?” I nervously avoid her penetrating gaze. “Are you deaf? WHAT ARE YOUR SKILLS?” Her voice is suddenly so terrible and vicious that I begin to shake.
“If you’re scared of me, then don’t even think about the arena,” she spits.
A bomb of anger and pride shoots through me. I couldn’t just let this woman bombard me with insults. “NO!” I yell a little too loudly.
“What?”
“I can throw knives. I’ve had practice.” I still remember how Mother had screamed when she’d seen all the kitchen knives stuck in the wall. “And I can climb easily. Even to the highest branches. I am small and light. I can run at a medium pace.” I lean back to show that I’m done.
“So, so. You can do something.” She sneers again. “My advice to you. Run. Don’t even think about the Cornucopia. You would die, nothing more, nothing less. You find a place to hide and you stay there. Find water. You can starve. You’re from District 12. You’re used to that. That’s all my advice to you. You are useless… What’s your name?”
I have the urge to strike the woman across the face. She must have seen my hands twitch for a malicious smile crosses her lips.
“Laurel,” I whisper.
“I would be careful if I were you, Laurel." She then pushes her chair back and walks out of the room.
(September 23, 2011 - 10:08 am)
@E.M.: First they're brought to the Training Centre, then they have the parade, then the interviews. ;)
//Calico//
The mentor- Sanda- looked Calico up and down shrewdly before moving onto Van.
"Name," Sanda demanded sharply.
"Calico Downy."
"Van Alem." Sanda snorted.
"You lot have such laughable names," she stated airily, smirking coldly. She looked at Calico. "Skills?"
"Spears, swords- basically anything sharp- hand-to-hand combat, and running."
"Van?"
"Strong, fast, strong, and strong." Van smiled haughtily. Sanda smirked.
"Well you two are obnoxious," she stated, much to Van and Calico's chagrin. "Go eat, then the preps'll take you. Do. Everything. They. Tell. You. Two. Or I will personally make sure you get hung from the rafters by your eyelids, kay?"
Calico sighed but nodded and Van shifted his head jerkily in a movement that was perceived as a nod.
"Good. The table's over there. Try not to eat too much."
(September 24, 2011 - 2:42 pm)
//Vaviar//
My prep team had just ripped off whatever little hair I had above my lip, which I've been trying to grow out for years. My lip was raw and throbbing, and they were conditioning my hair until it was was glossy and clean. Then they rubbed a moisterizer on me, which smelled like raspberries and mint. Then they escaped out of the room, leaving me unclothed and cold. Then a...well, a person isn't the best word to describe him. He had pure black skin, short black hair, silvery clothing, and black eyes with silver eye liner. He eyed me up and down. "Great, I get a Twelve again. I'm Androc. Come in here to get dressed." Ugh. As usual, our costume was a coal miner's uniform. I slipped into the body suit, fixed the light on my head, and stood still as Androc joyfully splattered me head to toe in coal powder. I walked out of the now black bathroom, to see Laurel dressed in the same thing. Yeah, this'll get us sponsors, for sure, now.
(September 25, 2011 - 2:53 pm)
Wait, ZB! I think you skipped Station 1: Training Center. If I remember right, they get to sleep before the Training Center and then they go to the Training Center so we need to go to the Training Center first. I had another idea other than miner's suits, by the way, but we can do the usual if you want to... :)
(September 26, 2011 - 10:24 am)
So. Tired. I. Have. Horrible. Swimming. Endurance.
@E.M.: They're in the TC already; it's where they were taken after the train ride. And what I said earlier was wrong; the parade's before the Tribute training. I remember Katniss saying something about how in the Training Centre, they didn't have much of an advantage over the others unlike in the parade where they had the best costumes. Or something like that. ;)
And excuse the mistakes in this, I'm tired as said earlier, and my brain is too from piano. *gah*
//Calico//
Fried. Halibut.
Fried. Halibut.
Fried. Halibut.
With fried potatoes.
"Stop eating like a pig," Sanda snapped at me. I rolled my eyes and continued to gorge myself on the fried halibut and potatoes. I was probably on Plate #9. The plates were big.
"If you go on like this, you'll be too fat to walk," Van remarked. I glared at him but reluctantly finished the rest of the fish before grabbing a nice and "healthy" orange.
It tasted like District 11.
Nice and sunny and hot and full of underfed, wimpy little Tribute-children who will be easy to kill.
Yes, I'm very optimistic.
***
My prep team...
...didn't look like a flock of painted geese. Instead, they looked like normal people. Albeit one of them had orange-tainted skin and another had diamonds for pupils, but otherwise, they weren't too bad.
The orange one--she was fairly plump with black hair that was piled high on her head--grabbed my cheeks with both of her hands and brought my face down to her eye-level. Her mouth was pursed as she studied me.
"I want the hot wax set and the Simmering set," she ordered. The diamond-eyed one nodded and left. She was back in a matter of minutes.
Wax.
Peel.
Ow.
Sit.
Simmer.
Ow.
Finally it was done and the preps disappeared. The minute they left, another person entered. He had spiky silver hair and large yellow eyes. He eyed me up and down.
"I have just the thing," he said. He left the room, beckoning me to follow.
His expert hands quickly assembled the multiple pieces of clothing on me, before addressing my hair and makeup. When everything was all finished, I looked in the mirror and smiled smugly.
(A/N: Below is an onslaught of fluff)
My high-necked blouse was made of soft white chiffon and the delicate folds trailed up to my neck. The ends of the short sleeves slightly resembled butterfly wings and the collar had three small flowers, made of a thin, wispy fabric. In the middle of the petals were diamonds.
The blouse was tucked into a long, straight skirt that ended a few inches past my knees. The skirt was made of a thick, rough material with two zippers running down it. The belt at my stomach was white and made of seemingly the same material.
My shoes were odd, starting where my skirt ended. Made of canvas, they were buttoned, with the laces criss-crossing across the narrow opening. The actual shoe part started at my feet, with a buckle on each foot. The platform shoes were dangerously high.
Finally, I had on a pair of white, satin gloves that went several inches past my elbows. My hair was also gelled back and tied in a tight bun, while a large, flat silver clip sat in the middle of the top of my head.
My makeup was minimal, with only a few splashes of foundation, a bit of eyeshadow and eyeliner, and peach-coloured lipstick.
(A/N: The onslaught ends)
"I look amazing," I remarked. I looked at my stylist. "It'll definitely pull in more sponsors. Thank you." He nodded.
"Don't smile," he advised curtly. "Don't look happy. Look like a hunter about to kill the prey." I nodded. "Your escort should be here soon to bring you to the parade," he said, before walking out.
I continued to look at myself in the mirror.
I looked like a warrior. Strong, defiant-
The definite winner of the Games.
That... took long. Got distracted. ANYWAY, Calico's outfit is from Alexander McQueen's Fall/Winter 2011 Collection. It's in the lookbook thing on his website, and is the fourth last one if you're interested. ;)
So, um, what's the arena going to be like?
(September 26, 2011 - 8:18 pm)
Oh no, let's go with your idea! I can't post right now, I have to do other stuff, but I'll post soon!
(September 26, 2011 - 8:07 pm)