70th Reaping [D11]

Lulu
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70th Reaping [D11] May 29, 2015 22:58:44 GMT -5

Post by Lulu on May 29, 2015 22:58:44 GMT -5

On a grandiose platform in the Capitol, President Snow stood between two large glass bowls - each twelve times larger than the vessels that bore the names during regular reapings. The 70th Hunger Games, being a quell, were a special occasion: each tribute would be reaped regardless of their district.

This meant that Snow would be drawing each of the twenty-four names personally, and the single reaping would be broadcast to each district, where the twelve-to-eighteen were gathered as usual.

A cold, haughty smile spread across his face as he stepped up to the podium. "It is time," he said, addressing the entire anxious nation, "to select twenty-four tributes to represent their chosen districts in the 70th Hunger Games. Let us begin the Reaping!"

OOC- RPing is allowed. If you wish to volunteer, let the tribute post first either accepting or stepping down from their place for volunteers, and then post. If the tribute doesn't reply by Tuesday, February 10th, a staff member will post saying that volunteering is open. Please do not post until you see this staff message. Volunteering is first-come, first-serve, with the exception of characters who have threaded with the tribute who has stepped down, who will receive precedence within a three-hour window.

Tributes, please do not make your acceptance or denial of your spot in character; instead, please leave an ooc note at the end of your post stating whether they accept or are stepping down for volunteers.

Also, and this is really important: If you have been selected as a tribute and plan on going into the arena, we HIGHLY SUGGEST you take some RP Tutoring lessons ASAP. It doesn't matter what level RPer you are; everyone can use a little help. RPing a tribute is a privilege; if you're not going to put the time and effort into making your posts the best they can be then you can count yourself among the dead.. It's not a requirement, but please please please just consider the lessons. They'll help even the most advanced RPer.

{lulu's cast}

Lulu
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70th Reaping [D11] May 29, 2015 23:26:02 GMT -5

Post by Lulu on May 29, 2015 23:26:02 GMT -5

President Snow carefully selected a strip of paper from one of the glass bowls that flanked him. He cleared his throat and locked eyes with the camera as he unfolded the slip. "Kirito Miristioma" he announced, enunciating each syllable with cold precision, "from District Eleven."

Last Edit: May 31, 2015 11:47:16 GMT -5 by gm bourgeois decadence [aya]

{lulu's cast}

Arrows
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your resident blonde bisexual boy

70th Reaping [D11] May 30, 2015 2:54:59 GMT -5

Post by Arrows on May 30, 2015 2:54:59 GMT -5

Kirito Miristioma

Light fluttered into the shabby shack in which Kirito called a home. Through the dim beams and the constant drizzle of dirt Kirito could see his mother still fast asleep across the room and by the subtle movements his twin made beside him he could tell that he too was lost within his dreams. Dreams that would eventually have to cease as he awoke into a day filled with unknown nightmares.

As quietly as possible, Kirito drifted out of the thin tan sheets of his bed and into the full rays of the morning sun. A gentle breeze from the north danced happily through the leaves of the orchards surrounding him. If he could somehow ignore the Reaping and all the inhumane ways of the world he lived in, Kirito might actual find the scene peaceful. Yet nothing was ever as it seems in Panem. Everything good always seemed to turn out bad and everything bad always seemed to contain twinges of good. It was all reversed, yet somehow it all worked in its own weird way.

With a shake of his head Kirito did what he did this day every single year. He feebly and shakily pulled the metal bathing tub out and dragged it behind the serene shelter of a wall of vines that had gladly made themselves home on the left wall of the dilapidated building. There he carefully filled the tub half way up and looked calmly at his reflection. However he saw the same face he always did. One filled with worry and sadness, along with a permanent frown formed by the chapped logs that were his lips.

Carefully Kirito literally ripped his clothes off of his body which had long since been glued to him by the amount of sweat and dust within them. Only then did Kirito tenderly dip his toes within the semi-cool pool of water. With a sort of excitement Kirito submerged himself as much as possible as he washed himself. It was only on very rare occasions such as the Reaping that he ever got to enjoy the feeling of clean water running like rivers down his back. It was truly blissful.

However Kirito made sure to remove himself from the bath's loving embrace as he hustled back inside. There his already sullen eyes lost even more of their usually optimistic and light glow. Slowly Kirito opened a wooden chest that had sat untouched since the last Reaping. Inside a matching set of the nicest clothes their entirely family owned, however never really used. Each of the outfits had a scarlet button up and black pants in which both Kirito and his brother would wear to every Reaping. With a sigh Kirito slipped the cursed outfit on, yet he did enjoy the smooth feeling of the fresh clothing against his now lighter skin since he must of washed off at least to layers of dust and dirt.

Still Kirito was not done, silently he made his way across the room the the "kitchen" which really was just a worn out stove he used to make food an medicine. Yet it oddly meant so much more than that to him. To him it was his special place, the place where he succeeded in things, where he could create whatever his imagination could possibly want. It was his own little escape. Even on the day of the Reaping just making breakfast made a small grin chizzle across his cheeks.

Surely enough the wafting aromas quickly pulled Kirito's brother and Mother from their wistful dreams. Kirito could feel their eyes prying into his back as their grumbling stomachs longed for a meal. Sternly Kirito spoke out to his brother, "Listun up Ikaia, tha bath is ready for ya an' I laid out your outfit so start gettin' ready for the Reapin'." With that his brother was off and Kirito finished cooking the fried apples.

With a smile Kirito walked a small plate over to his mother along with several medicinal remedies he had made her. "Eat up Ma, I promise everythin' will be okay dontcha worry." He then gently kissed her head before joining his now bathed and dressed twin for his own breakfast.

Before a blink of an eye Kirito found himself side by side with his brother and the bright waves of the sun's grace was beaming upon his face. All around Kirito the children of District Eleven watched as the President selected child after child to compete in the Quell, yet Kirito found his eyes locked on Katelyn Persimmon, the victor who gave hope back to the district. He wondered if she truly could bring another one home.

However Kirito began to wonder as the Reaping dragged on if she would even have to since his district had not had a single name called. That was until the name "Kirito Miristioma." Slithered out of the teeth of President Snow. Of course it had to be him. It had to be the boy who hated violence above all else. The boy who was the biggest coward. The boy who now stood in front of his district entirely alone with not a volunteer in sight. The boy who had been branded with the seal of the 70th Hunger Games. With tears brimming on his eyes he looked towards Katelyn praying silently for her help, since he sure as hell would need it.

Kirito Accepts His Role As Distrct 11's Tribute

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knuckles
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probably flailing over something

70th Reaping [D11] May 30, 2015 8:56:47 GMT -5

Post by knuckles on May 30, 2015 8:56:47 GMT -5

Ikaia Miristioma

Ever since the quell was announced, Ikaia has spent many nights awake pondering the consequences. It rested like a ton of bricks on his mind especially knowing that this was the one reaping the twins could end up in the arena together. And of course it was another sleepless night. Tears rolled down dirt stained cheeks, yet the sobs remained silent as he didn't want to wake his brother. Soon, though, sleep ran throughout his body taking control, and all that was left was the constant nightmares rushing through the mind of a terrified teenager. Only three more reapings he thought over and over. This one, and two more after that, but the reaping wasn't the only nightmares pouring into his fragile brain. All he could think about was loosing his brother like he lost his father.

It was the sweet smell of a fire burning in the kitchen as his twin cooked a meal for the family, along with the lights reflecting vividly through the room that stirred the sleeping boy. Stretching his arms high towards the sky, he allowed himself time to sit for a while thinking about what the day would bring. A fear that nobody understood at this moment. A horrible feeling itched through his skin before sinking far into the depths of his stomach, yet Ikaia threw on a brave face. One without emotion as he was the strong one. Becoming a father figure after his father died changed him. It made him more protective of his family especially when the young boy's mother fell ill. She almost died, and now she's doing better. It truly came from the great works of his twin.

Shifting his gaze towards his brother, he felt a small smile twist across his face. His words were powerful, yet gentle enough not to disturb the thoughts resting deep inside a scattered brain. The same routine on every reaping mourning. Kirito was always up before the rest of the family getting ready for the big day. He worked like a mule. One could say he quickly became the mother figure. Both twins grew up too fas, yet an undying relationship between them grew rapidly. Every time Ikaia faced his brother, his heart leaped inside his chest before dancing around and running circles. Doing an about face, he turned away. "Aight. I make it quick 'cause we don't wanna be late or nothin'."

Beautiful scenes flashed before his eyes. The many orchards spreading across the district. The tickle of a gentle breeze against the leaves. The grass bending underneath it. Birds dancing high in the sky singing a song to one another. Shaggy hair gently lifted from the back of his neck flying with the wind. It was almost like a dream. One that nobody living in Panem would ever experience in a real life setting. It was too good to be true. Dry grass crunches under the teenager's unsteady gait. Wobbling back and forth because of bones that never healed right after falling from a tree made life harder, yet Ikaia never missed a day of work since the little amount of money brought in was barely enough to keep his family alive.

Finally, he reached the small vine wall blocking the view of the metal tub full of water waiting to wipe away the grime plastered against skin. His eyes downcast as he stared into the water for what felt like an eternity. Fear crawled across his skin as he slowly removed the dirt stained clothing and stepped foot into the water. Chills ran up his spine causing him to shiver, but for once it felt amazing. Scrubbing the dirt from his skin, the boy started humming a soft melody. A waterfall stirred as he stood up stepping out of the metal tub. Quickly he wrapped himself with a cloth, and pushed the metal tub back to its rightful place. It was then he saw the clothing his twin laid out. The scarlet button up and black pants may feel welcoming if it wasn't for the reaping.

Then he was with his twin journeying towards the district square as many children gathered around. The screen was alive, and all Ikaia wanted was for this to end so they could all return home together. No words were spoken at first as he stared at the screen watching as name after name was called. In all honesty, he was starting to feel safe until the next name sent bullets through his spine paralyzing him. His chin dropped towards the ground as his twin brother moved from his side slowly heading towards the stage. His knees shook from the weight of his body. His eyes wide as he watched his brother make the death march. A sentence to death. His heart sank far into his stomach, and he couldn't make out any other name announced during the reaping. "Kirito!" His voice cracked as he called his name. His head dropped forward as tears threatened to spew from his eyes at any given second, but he stopped himself.

Ikaia couldn't cry because right now his brother needed him more than ever.

lest we forget [the characters]

credit to Zoe

charade
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Thinking

70th Reaping [D11] May 30, 2015 17:08:18 GMT -5

Post by charade on May 30, 2015 17:08:18 GMT -5

[googlefont="Ubuntu:400"]

Katelyn

Persimmon

Had it truly been a year? Three hundred and sixty-five days since her name had been plucked out of that bowl and Levi Izar-Krane had volunteered for a boy named Adonis. An entire year since she had been subjected to an icy hell where she had made friends and lost them. Ended lives but kept hers. For the first time in forever, the seat next to the mayor was occupied. Katelyn surveyed the people standing around the stage and sighed into her hands.

Within the next few minutes she’d know the names and faces of the two unfortunate tributes who would be the first ever to have the benefit of a mentor’s guidance in eleven; unlike herself or any of the tributes that had come before. It was her hope that she had prepared herself enough to deal with this burden, to impart whatever skills and knowledge she had garnered in the arena.

Which honestly, wasn’t that much.

However, there were certain things she knew to look for, and thus was perturbed to see the absence of the reaping bowls, and that Fintermaelon sat in his seat to her left but hadn’t made to move towards the podium; of course, she knew that it was a quell and the rules would be different, perhaps so different that any advice she could offer would be rendered moot like a decade ago, when the quell had prevented tributes from forming alliances and thus changed everyone’s strategy for survival.

But, five years ago, the quell twist had cut the reaping pool down to only children between the ages of twelve and fourteen, everything else had been business as usual.
The large screens flickered to life with the Capitol seal and the anthem began. A song that made her shiver as it brought back bad memories. The president announced that for the quell, the reaping pool was not constrained by the two by district rule and Katelyn’s jaw dropped. It meant that a district could have more than two tributes.

Or one. Or not at all. Her heart raced as the names began to be called, but as the drawings went on, she dared to start relaxing. Several districts had three tributes. District three only had one. District two had a whopping four tributes, and the thought of tributes having to face not one but potentially four Mason Hammerfells made her blood freeze. And then someone volunteered for a career. It was to be expected as it was a prized position for people in those districts instead of a curse. But what was surprising was that she knew his face. Knew his name.

Throughout the reaping she had been hoping beyond hope that she would not see anyone familiar. Not Marc’s brother. Not Prism’s sister. Not one of Margaret’s friends. The list went on. Please, no one that would remind her of the frozen wasteland she had been the one to conquer. And it hadn’t gone that way. Not until Orion Hammerfell volunteered. The boy from district two that was not a career. The one that told her all life was precious. The one that sincerely seemed to be different. Had those words he spoke during the victory tour been a lie? Was he seeking glory in the games? Katelyn had questions for him when she saw him in the Capitol. The one place she had hoped never to see him, or anyone like him.

Then another name was called. Kirito Miristioma. While she didn’t know the name, when President Snow added “from district eleven” at the end and the boy made his teary walk to the stage, Katelyn was mortified. A few more names and districts were called before the number was complete. Only one tribute for her to mentor, in an arena that would have nine careers and no slice of home.

A life that it was her duty to see come home. Part of her was relieved that her tribute wouldn’t ever be put in a situation where he had to kill his district partner. But she knew she’d still have her work cut out for her. And that wasn’t counting the time she was going to spend screaming at Orion for volunteering. She looked at Kirito and gave him a nod as Finter started to bustle about. While the previous year she had been aggravated by the escort's antics, this time, she was glad to be able to lean on him for moral support.

Hopefully next year, she'd have a fellow victor to do that with.