I'll do it! Last one I joined I RP'ed a girl from District 1 and it was so fun . . . I may have to resurrect her XD If I can remember her name . . . it started with a C or an A, I think. Excuse me while I go search for the thread.

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Sure.  I'd like to claim the girl from District 4 before anyone else does.

Name:  Anemone 'Anna' Leighton

Age: 15

Appearance: Blond hair, almost white from being in the sun so much, that goes halfway down her back, tan skin (the sun thing), really tall

Personality:  Really tough, sarcastic, basically like Clarisse from Percy Jackson, very belligerent, but reluctant to kill humans

Weapon of choice: Triton, spear, and net 

Status at the end of the games: I don't mind being Victor if no one else claims it, but I don't mind dying at all.

Other: When she's not at school, she's a freelance fisher.  Not because she needs to, because her dad's fish-packing-management job pays enough to support the three of them (her dad, her mom, and Anemone), but because it's fun to her and helps her clear her mind.  

I might make a boy Tribute too, once we  

Can there be twist? Like, riots have started again and to calm the people, two kids from the capital are being sent.

Awesome! I call making a kid from the capital!

Lafiett Bejarnim

17

She has gold skin and jet black hair that always in stays in perfect form, making her appear vaguely robotic. Her body is *Cough, Cough* "fully mature," and her eyes are a sharp, piercing shade of green. She is a tiny bit taller than average.

Out of all the capital she is a good choice. She is confident, strong, and a tiny bit arrogant. She is extremely loyal and trustworthy, but will probably stab you if you get to close.

She prefers a dagger or sword and pretty much any sharp objects they have.

I call being third to last.

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Tobin, a boy from the Capitol. He is not arrogant as many people from the Capitol are but is mysterious indeed. He is strong and fast and prefers evading over killing. He has shaggy black hair and huge black eyes. 

I'm joining.

Name: Lyra 

Age: 14, might change to 15 last minute

District: 1

Appearance: Brown hair usually in pigtails, semi-fashionable clothing, normally. Blue eyes.

Personality: Mischevious at best. She's devious, traitorious, and loves money and power. Her peersonal motto is pretty much "What's in it for me?"

Other: She runs a business called "Revenge, Inc." (cheesy name, I know) that specializes in blackmailing and taking revenge on people. They are found of causing scandels, scaring people, and cheating people for money.

Skills: Excellent with disguises and stealth. She's very adept at programming and hacking computers and is good at forging documents and signatures. She's good at getting out of trouble, keeping track of details, and knows many ways to kill someone easily with a variety of tools. She's great at manipulating people and does it as much as possible.

Chip Rodgers~

I guess I'm just I kind of unlucky guy. It doesn't worry me much, I can handle almost anything thrown at me in life.

Of course, when I said that, I wasn't thinking of the games.

My name was in there so many times because my uncle needed money for our pizza bakery. The bakery was his life, and at least half of mine. Of course, I should've known that not that many people in district five would enter more than one slip, power and electricity produced pretty constant money.

I really didn't think I would be called on. Of course, I remembered the conversation my uncle and I had had.

"Chip," he had said. "You're probably going to the games because I made you put in the last slip for pepperonni."

"Don't worry about me!" I grinned. "Some other unlucky dude will get picked! Plus, pepperoni is my favorite!"

My uncle had just shook his head. "I hope you're right."

"Charles Rodgers." That was the name they called when the drew the boy tribute. I frowned. Well, I guess I was the unlucky dude who got picked.

I walked up to the front, not to concerned, because as I said, I can pretty much handle anything. The girl tribute was already up front. She looked terrified, and I smiled at her, trying to tell her, It's okay, I can handle this and so can you even though we might end up slaughtering each other!

She shot a very flat, non impressed look back. My face said "WHAT?!" She gave up. 

I frowned momentaritly, and turned back to the crowd, still smiling.

"THE TRIBUTES FOR THE EIGHTITH HUNGER GAMES!!!"

Okay... so if we don't want it to be eighith, we can change it, but the whole uprising capital thing suggests it's before the next quarter quell. I can't get Chip's character right.... so he might have 17 some personas by the end of this RP.

Oh, I've been looking forward to writing as Lyra.

Today was a slow day, which meant I had my feet up on the desk and a video game on the computer. I steered my witch back and forth to avoid the projectiles coming from the ice fairy. This boss was on her last legs and would give out soon. (Note: If you can identify what game Lyra is playing or get a close enough guess, I'll give you a virtual pastry of your choice.) Just then, the shop door opened with the tinny clanging of the sensor. I pressed pause, slid my feet off the desk, and looked up to see one of my informants sailing in. I didn't know her true name or age. She looked roughly to be eighteen or so but could have been anywhere from sixteen to twenty-two. "Afternoon, Green," I said, placing my hands on the counter. "How may I help you?" 

She opened up her purse and slammed an envolope onto the counter. I opened the envolope and surveyed its contents with a practiced eye. Three high quality photos of rather uninportant people doing rather naughty things. "20 bucks each," I said and hunted in the cash drawer for the bills. 

"They're good quality!" Green protested.

"Which is why they're worth twenty, not ten. Honestly, though, there's no gurantee someone's gonna want any of these. I may not be able to sell 'em." 

She humphed but counted all six of the ten dollar bills I handed over. "Is that all?" I asked. She nodded. "Then scoot." She left.

I had quite a few scouts all over the district providing me with quality scandels. Photos, documents, voice recordings- you name it. They brought me all that stuff and I just sold it and exacted revenge on people. Not bad for a kid.

I scanned the photos and stored them in the computer's vast database. I labeled each photo with the name of the people involved and a few other keywords then locked the photos in a massive trash can behind the desk. I didn't want them getting around so other people could use them. I returned to my game and beat the boss and continued on. I nearly made it to the gate of the enormous red mansion when the door opened again. 

Sighing, I paused the game and leaned over the desk to see a sobbing young woman with bright pink hair. Pink. Ay. "How can I help you, ma'am?" I asked.

The woman plopped herself into the chair in front of the desk and began to wail. "My- my- boyfriend is such a jerk! I h-h-h-hate him! I want you to ruin him!" 

I patted her arm sympethetically. "There, there. you'll be okay. Now, are you sure you want me to do what everything I can? There's no taking this back, you know. It'll ruin his entire reputation."

The hysterical lady sobbed, "Yes! Yes! Get him in trouble! He's a jerk, a complete jerk, he never treats me properly-"

"Mmmhmm. And what's his name?"

"Iridium Thompson. I hate him so much! He never pays for me when we-" 

I blocked her out as I put his ridiculous name into the computer. Five photos came up. "He was cheating on you, too." I said.

"What?" the woman looked up, startled.

"Unless you can turn yourself into half a dozen girls, I'd call that cheating. Now, I need to know what his parents are like."

"Horribly conservative, they never-"

"Perfect. That'll be $200." (Note: I just realized I don't know what the currency is. If it's not dollars, sorry, it'll be the equivalent amount of that money.) 

I handed the woman a tissue as she handed me the money and then I shooed her out. I printed up the five photos on high quality photo paper and placed them in a shiny white envolope. A quick search gave me his adress and then I was off. I grabbed my large cap, locked up the shop, and jumped on an old bycicle that I pedelled along at frightening speeds. I hopped off shortly before I arrived at the house of the offender's parents. I hid my bike in a nearby bush and walked up the street to the house. I rang the doorbell and waited for a woman to open the door.

"Hello, miss. I'm from the Lockhart Photo Society (I made the name up on the spot.) and I have some photos of your son. Does he have a girlfriend, by any chance?"

"Yes, she's an absolute ruffian, that pink-haired Amanda-"

"Pink?" I aksed innocently. "I though she was blond."

I left as the woman opened the photos with an incredulous shriek. I laughed quietly to myself as I made my way back to the bike. I love my job.

As I flew back to the shop on my bike, I passed several posters advertsing the grand event coming tomorrow. Reaping Day...

Reaping Day is supposed to be a big day for the whole city, but I've never particularly noticed it. I got up quietly, ate breakfast, and then slipped out to the office to get dressed for "the big day". Every year, I dress up in a different costume. My father probably wouldn't be able to recognise me unless I was picked and my name blared out loud enough for him to hear. Maybe he wouldn't even care.

This year, I knew exactly what I wanted to wear. Someone had dumped an enormous dress at the shop and I'd been dying for a chance to use it. I hunted in one of the cabinets in the back until I found a bottle of blond hair dye. Half an hour later, you would have been hard pressed to tell that I'm normally a brunette. I tied up my hair in a bun with a black lacy ribbon and stuck in a hairpin shaped like a black rose. Fancy. Next came the monstrous dress. It was a soft white fabric over the shoulders, but the majority of the dress was bright yellow. The sleeves were filled with lace and an enormous orange bow was over the chest. More orange ribbons cascaded down the front of the skirt. An enormous white underskirt covered my feet and a yelow overskirt was draped over that. I made a yellow ribbon collar and attached a pair of sapphire earrings (clip-ons) to my ears. A faux gold and ruby necklace completed the look. Still, I didn't have anything to hold. I rummaged through a couple of drawers and suddenly grabbed what I wanted. I flicked a black rose-patterened fabric and wooden fan with a long tassell open and fanned it in front of my face. I peered over my face in the mirror. Perfect. 

I promenaded through the streets on my way to the enormous city square. People were dressed grandly today, but my outfit took the cake. I attracted more than one jealous stare. 

In the huge pavilion where the Reaping was held, I waited with the other fourteen year olds. "Who asked for the queen to come?" one boy sneered. I smiled at him deviously over my fan.

"Aren't you sad you can't wear such a pretty outfit like mine without attracting unwelcome looks?" I asked and then promptly turned around and ignored him.  

Before too long, a brightly dressed woman began the program. Her usual call of "Ladies first" caused the crowd to pull in its breath. She pulled out of her glittry silver ball the name. In her usual peppy voice, she read triumphantly, "Lyra Crest!" 

For a few seconds, I was completely overwhelmed but I regained composure quickly and said to the mass around me, in my politiest voice possible, "Excuse me, but I do believe I am wanted up at the podium." The nearest kids backed away with gasps and I began to walk through the crowd. The masses stepped back as I drew near and it seemed, as I walked slowly and steadily. The cameras were trained on the girl who looked and walked like a queen. My mind was whirling. This could be my last great charade. I didn't want to die. Nope. I didn't. I hadn't had that much training when it came to fighting, but I had very good instincts and enough determination to accomplish anything. I could kill if the price was great enough and this was a very big price. 23 heads for the Capitol, coming right up. Your little Lyra loves to serve, I thought.

Holding onto the ends of my dress, I climbed the stairs daintly and slowly and curtsied to the Reaping woman. She looked flustered. "I'd be happy to accept my positon as tribute," I said.

"Ah, well, yes. And for the gentlemen!" She pulled out some enormous hulk of a seventeen year old who looked slow. I could take him down easily. I curtsied to him as well and he stupidly tried to shake my hand. I let him know he could kiss my hand. He clumsily did. Ha. Toying with him was so fun. Guards led us into nearby buildings so we could have a chance to see our families. 

Family? What family? My dear father most likely didn't recognise the girl walking up to the stage, assumed there were multiple girls named Lyra Crest, and forgot all about me.