[74th] The Reaping - District Six

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gm bourgeois decadence [aya]
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[74th] The Reaping - District Six Sept 30, 2016 23:15:23 GMT -5

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Post by gm bourgeois decadence [aya] on Sept 30, 2016 23:15:23 GMT -5

"It is time," he said as he stood over the impatient people of the District, "To once again send two of our own children to the Capitol to compete in the Hunger Games. Let us begin the Reaping!"

He did not look to see the reaction of his district before reaching into the glass ball that held the names of the female children. "Ladies first," he announced, pulling out a slip of paper. He unfolded it and read out to the crowd, "Maye Talliago!" He then reached into the other ball. "Jackson Samuels!"

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, October 4th, a staff member will post saying that volunteering is open. Please do not post until you see this staff message. FIRST COME, FIRST SERVE.

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.

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[74th] The Reaping - District Six Oct 1, 2016 17:39:37 GMT -5

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Post by charade on Oct 1, 2016 17:39:37 GMT -5

Maye

“Stop squirming, you little bastard!” she griped as she wrestled with a brush.

The reaping day was always the same. Trying to wrangle the younger ones into the bathroom and getting them to look presentable. Boys. They never wanted to do their hair and always managed to get something on their faces. They might be orphans, but shit, they didn’t have to look the part, especially on the one day out of the year they had to be around people.

As for herself, she looked stunning, or at least she liked to think so. Not many people wore heels to the reaping. Or a skirt that was far too short, but still long enough to have a pocket built into it, a shirt cut low in the front, but not baring her midriff or any part of her back; she couldn’t afford to let anyone see the burn scars or the lacerations.

Stuff like that brought the wrong kind of attention. And then the questions.

And then He might get wind of it and figure out where she’d gotten to.

Maye always looked her best. Always wore the best make-up she could steal.

Had to.

She was a fricking tree at 5’11 with legs that went on for days.

Some might have taken offence at her reaping outfit, or thought she was one of those girls that walked the street at night, but thankfully doing her part to earn money to keep the kids alive never went quite that far, and it didn’t need to when she had the fastest hands out of all of them. The head-turning outfits were meant to be a distraction so they didn’t notice that their wallets or whatever the hell else they had in their pockets had gone missing. Sure she could talk that talk if she needed to but it never went that far. Keep ‘em wanting more, never actually give it to them.

Words to live by. And I have a lot of those.
---
Reaping day was the only day that she managed to keep a lid on her motormouth, and only during the part where they were gathered in front of the stage. And even then, it was only because no one ever felt like talking and it was probably the best time and place in the district to acquire things. She’d already stumbled into a couple guys and walked with some loose change, a pen, and a pocketwatch; and she didn’t even remember grabbing the third one. It seemed that sometimes her hands were faster than her brain.

As the video played reminding them that tributes killing and dying was supposed to be awesome and not a suckfest of death, she looked straight ahead but her fingers found their way into the back pocket of the girl in front of her. If anyone noticed, they didn’t say anything. It felt like a comb of some sort, but she didn’t look at it, and stuck it into her own pocket, waiting for the unlucky girl to get called already so she could hurry up and get going; there were more important things to do, and if she wanted to get any good deals at the pawn, she’d have to get there early.

“Maye Talliago.”

Or not.

Her eyes widened.

That’s…that was…my name? No. Nooo. That couldn’t have been my name. If it was, then it means that I’m reaped. I'm screwed. Like Marc. And then, we’re running out of older teens in the house so who’s going to…I’m reaped?
…
Thatohmygodnonoononnothiscan’tbehappeningMarcdidn’tcomebackhesaidhewouldhewasthestrongestoneinthehousewhatchancedoIhaveohmygodkeepittogethermayenononononononononono

She barely heard the escort say the male’s name as the sea of girls around her started to part. She was walking, she realized belatedly. Her feet had started moving. Why did I pick heels today? When had that happened? It was always going to happen, Maye reminded herself as the stage drew nearer. Nobody cared about an orphan on the cusp of adulthood. No parents, no siblings, just some kids that she shared a house with. Her life had been shit this far, why should she have expected it to get better? Jan was a fuckin liar. Everyone in their little makeshift family either died (godammit Marc) or ran out of them eventually. (and fuck the rest of you for leaving. You know who you are.)

Maye sighed and pulled the comb out of her pocket. It was the kind meant to be worn in hair, silver, ornate and probably older than President Snow. Might have fetched a decent price. She used to know a peacekeeper that liked to trade rations for pretty things to send home to his mistress. Maye had liked him. He’d been a decent sort. He’d also been reassigned a couple months ago, and his replacement was a dick.

But that was her life. Nobody ever stuck around, and nobody could be trusted.

Everyone left.

Looks like it’s my turn. She thought grimly, nodding intently at the camera.

She stuck the comb in her hair, hoping it looked nice. It’d have to do as her token; she didn’t have anything of her own worth bringing. Maye tried to smile, tried to look like she okay, even though her knees were threatening to give out underneath her. She spotted Marzo in the crowd, and gave him a small wave, thinking of his brother. After getting reaped, Marc had partnered up with that nurse chick and The Bachelorette. (Gag me with a spoon, anyone watching could tell she had the hots for the chef, but that show was sooo scripted.)

That had been his mistake, because once he ceased to be useful those bitches had left him behind.

Maye wouldn’t make the same mistake. She was going to the arena, there was no doubt about that, and if she wanted to live, she had to do better than district six had ever done.

Trust no one.

The escort asked her if she had anything to say and she thought hard about it.

There were a multitude of things she wanted to say, most of them extremely unladylike. (Not that I've ever come close to being one.) She could have cursed Jan out, if he was even in the crowd somewhere and not dead or wandering the wilderness. She briefly considered begging someone, anyone to volunteer for her. Nothing seemed right. After a moment she leaned forward, and decided to say that she’d win for her fellow orphans, even if district six’s track record with no mentor said otherwise. Even if it was a blatant lie and what she wanted to say was that odds were she was going to die, so take care of each other.

But regardless, what wound up coming out and into the microphone was a crisp and sarcastic –

“Well, fuck.”

Maye accepts

16 Jul 12, 23:43
GB: I bet you just sit at your computer with a tea cup and a monocle

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[74th] The Reaping - District Six Oct 2, 2016 14:32:10 GMT -5

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Post by uwu on Oct 2, 2016 14:32:10 GMT -5

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Reaping day. Best day ever, just as long as I don't get reaped. You got this, Jackson. This reaping marks my final reaping date for the rest of my life. As long as the escort doesn't choose my name. It makes me happy knowing I'll be safe next year. It'll be one less thing to worry about afterwards. Speaking of afterwards, what am I going to do? Shit. I reset my mind. Today is not a day to worry about that right now. Just worry about not causing a scene in front of everyone, and praying I won't get reaped. It'll suck if my best friend gets reaped as well... Ha. He wouldn't. I'd volunteer for him if he was, and I'm sure he'd volunteer for me as well.

I got my nice slacks and a short-sleeve collared shirt. Like usual, my mother fussed over how hot it is to wear long pants before my family and I left. Like the other successful times, I convinced her that I would be okay. Luckily, today was a day my dad got to be with us, so we were able to be together as a complete family. Noticing we had left earlier than expected, we head on over to grab a bite to eat before heading over. Sitting around talking with family had never felt so good, even with my father's silence. Why am I feeling so happy today? Is something bad gonna happen soon? Am I gonna be reaped?[ Nah, I wouldn't be reaped. I'm just happy. I can be happy. I don't even know if I've been reaped yet.

My doubts subdue a little, but are silently sitting in the back of my mind. I leave my family behind, hugging everyone before I head out with my friend with everyone else my age. Seeing him helped calm me a little, as I was able to talk to him which distracted me. We talk about what we might be doing after this was over. I'm in the middle of stating that we should hang out near the shopping district before a silent hush crosses the crowd as the escort crosses the stage.

Panic starts to rise a little, but I suppress it. It'll be okay. You haven't been reaped in the past 6 years. You don't have any extra tesserae. You'll be fine. The escort talks about whatever the Capitol says is necessary about the games. Why do they do this? Everyone's seen it a shit ton of times before.[/font] My friend and I made eye contact and synchronized our eye rolls. We wanted to be free men.

What felt like a short eternity, it was finally time for the actual reaping to begin. The escort person heads on over to the girls side because you just gotta always be ladies first, right? I don't mind, just would wish if it could move faster. When he got to the boys side, time seemed to freeze. Please don't be me, please don't be me. "Jackson Samuels!" Everything goes numb. I turn to my friend in a dazed look. His jaw was a little open. I pointed to myself. "That's... that's my name. That's my name. Oh. Okay. I guess... I guess I'll see you later? Hopefully? Maybe? You'll definitely see me." Before I go, he gives me a penny. "I found this earlier today, face up. Supposed to bring the user good luck. I think you'll need it more than I would." His voice shook a little as he said that. I nod and give him a brotherly hug. "Thank you."

My legs didn't want to obey me as I walked up to the stage to accept my place. I don't thin any part of my body wanted to go up there. At least I knew my heart worked as I could feel it running at 200mph. As I finally made it, I could feel everyone looking at me along with my body shaking. For whatever stupid reason, I decide to wave at the people. Looking around, I make eye contact with my family. I mouth "I'm sorry." I try to find my friend as well, but I couldn't see him. Where'd he go? I probably can't see him. That's all. I'll see him later. I'll win. I have to win. I can't die. I won't die. I need to live. I have to live. I feel a tear start to roll down my face. I stiffen up straight. I take a deep breath. Be strong. You'll be okay.

Jackson Samuels accepts

Last Edit: Oct 3, 2016 13:59:04 GMT -5 by uwu

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