Choo Choo g'Joob (D7 Train Thread) BLITZ

uwu
Capitol Resident

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*cries in watermelon*

Choo Choo g'Joob (D7 Train Thread) BLITZ Jan 30, 2017 13:50:03 GMT -5

Post by uwu on Jan 30, 2017 13:50:03 GMT -5

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"GAH. THIS IS SO BORING."I bang my head on the wall. The words were not meant to be heard by anyone, but I would love to have someone hear them. Us tributes have been on the train for who knows how long, and I have nothing to do. I've explored as much as I'm allowed to on the train, ate the amazing food, and laid in my bed for what feels like eternity. This way too long. Why can't we just instantly teleport to the Capitol? I wish I was back in District 7. I wouldn't be as bored. Hell, I would even work. Wait. I have an idea.

I quickly run into the hallway. "ALL DISTRICT 7 TRIBUTES TO THE PLACE WITH THE FOOD! IMPORTANT MEETING HAPPENING NOW!" I quickly run into the dinning car and try to set everything up. I drag up multiple chairs to one table after removing all the excess food off of it. However, I do leave all the drinks. When I finish, I realize I forgot one key element to my plan. Crap, I forgot the cards.

I sprint back into my room and search where I last remember leaving the deck of cards. Where the fuck are they? OH. Here they are. I find them laying under the pillow I was laying on earlier. Snatching it, I spring back to the game coach. By then, I think the rest of the tributes have arrived. How many volunteered again? 5? 6? Dunno. I didn't count. "Hello, everyone! My name is Marcus Fletcher! And I had the wonderful idea to have an icebreaker, specifically poker." I give them a small bow. I really hope this spontaneous plan works. Please in the love of RIpred work.

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Sleepy Fluttershy
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«Success consists of going from failure to failure without loss of enthusiasm». (Winston Churchill)

Choo Choo g'Joob (D7 Train Thread) BLITZ Jan 30, 2017 23:03:17 GMT -5

Post by Sleepy Fluttershy on Jan 30, 2017 23:03:17 GMT -5

Leticia Wheeler

I am leaning on the wall and almost groaning from desperation. Damn. What did I get myself into? And I can't do anything about it. The thought just makes me more and more angry with myself and the world. I can't get rid of my family's voices in my head and they chase me like a damn nightmare.

Suddenly I hear someone yelling someting in the hallway. What was that? Are they trying to murder each other already? We haven't even arrived at the Capitol yet. I begin walking in the direction where the noise came from. Damn. It is just Marcus. Again. Why is it always him when something happens?!

I lean onto the wall of the dining car with my hands crossed and watch him fussing around and looking for cards. Is that what he called everyone here for?

"Hello, everyone! My name is Marcus Fletcher! And I had the wonderful idea to have an icebreaker, specifically poker."

Dammit. He wants to play when we have just been separated from our families and are about to go into the Arena in a few days. But that is Marcus. What else could be expected from him. I still can't help feeling miserable about volunteering, even though he's distracted me from my thoughts a little. He doesn't even know that HE was the damn reason for me volunteering!

"I don't know how to play poker. It's a good thing my ice doesn't need breaking".

(graphics by Kaplan)

☆GABRIELLE☆

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They'll either want to kill you, kiss you, or be you.

Choo Choo g'Joob (D7 Train Thread) BLITZ Jan 30, 2017 23:42:15 GMT -5

Post by * on Jan 30, 2017 23:42:15 GMT -5

"Wood is one color. It all cuts the same way."
-Seth Brogan

In the comfort of my own private room on this train, I've found a few moments to let myself completely relax. I've taken the prosthetic off, letting it lay on the bed nearest to me and for a moment, I'm having a few moments of self reflection.

"Why am I even here. One look at me from the others will give them the most opportunistic reason to hunt me down first. A cripple in the arena. A tribute that is half of what is needed to survive. I've survived though... more than these games will allow." I bring my hands to my face, rubbing furiously to stretch out my mind in this silent room.

Feet patter by the door and I await the moment someone walks in on me. What would they say to see me at my most vulnerable? Even though they are from home, will they still try to put me into an early grave before we get there because they see an advantage?

"Think again." Grumbling, the feet that resound in the hallway comes with a loud badgering voice that I recognize immediately. There is a meeting for some reason and for him to be the bearer of bad news... "GO AWAY."

I groan. After a few moments, I negate my previous decisions and strap the leg back into place, steady myself and limp into the main dining cart where everyone else has already assembled. Marcus appears with a deck of cards, and the girl leaning against the wall nicely bashes the idea. I decide to join in on the idea.

"... Since when did you become a social butterfly, Marcus?" I question, and limp over to a chair, easing to sit down. "What are you trying to do anyways?"

Python
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Choo Choo g'Joob (D7 Train Thread) BLITZ Jan 31, 2017 1:47:06 GMT -5

Post by Python on Jan 31, 2017 1:47:06 GMT -5

castor karmichael

Her head was going to burst. The prospect of death hadn’t been so daunting until her brother entered the picture, proving himself foolish and loyal as always because he refused to leave her side. She appreciated it, if not for the fact that only one person will win, meaning one of them had to die for certain.

One would have to live without the other.

Half of her world was gone already. She couldn’t lose another.

She sat in the confines of her private chamber, head buried in her hands. She didn’t care about the bubbly escorts, the crafted furniture, the plates of Capitol temptation. She had never been one for frivolous things, especially after living in the forest for two years. It all meant nothing if the future was bleak. Accepting fate was not easy. Impossible, even.

Somehow she had to manage. She had put herself into this powerless situation, not considering the weight of all potential outcomes. Panic had seized her conscience. Jano, she didn’t think of Jano’s loyalty. She thought he would understand, not join her in a deathbed. Hope had been stolen from her.

Shouting interrupted her thoughts. Childish things. Who were the people who had volunteered their entire worlds? Their priorities were skewed.

Groaning, she stood up and marched her way into the commotion. She didn’t comprehend the point of an icebreaker – we’ll all forget each other and everything our lives are worth.

Optimists, all of them.

”I can play poker,” she said, plucking a croissant from one of the platters. She didn’t know what to think of this curly-haired extrovert. Friend, foe, a neutral face in the pool of tributes she would have to sort through? What about the other girl, and the boy with the prosthetic leg? Why did you all volunteer to die?

They must’ve all had their own personal Hells.

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— 🥀 —

Choo Choo g'Joob (D7 Train Thread) BLITZ Jan 31, 2017 17:27:23 GMT -5

Post by admin dars on Jan 31, 2017 17:27:23 GMT -5

RAVEN ● BARKER

Cracked knuckles, I remembered being glad my eyes never looked any different after I had cried.

Rowan's grandmother had become something of a mother to me in the years since my own had given up trying-- and maybe seeing her was more of a bad thing than a good one. I hated the idea of my last memory in Seven being her. I hated the idea of remembering District Seven as good, because it wasn't. My life had been no walk in the park. It had been abusive parents and dead brothers and homelessness and that was the reason I had chosen to fight back in the first place.

That was the reason I was here-- to take back the innocent souls the Capitol had stolen from me.

Still, my hands absently played with the eagle-clawed bangle she had given me. When she first slipped it on my wrist, I had laughed. "If we keep this up, you'll be out of jewelry in no time." Three pieces of gold, three souls walking away from her.

Maybe they were parting gifts, regardless of what happened. Maybe she had accepted that, even if any of us had survived-- Gavin, Rowan, or myself, we wouldn't have been the same people. We wouldn't have been innocent children who needed her. (But a part of me figured I would always need her; she was all that I had left.)

A boy-- Marcus Fletcher, apparently, slammed open the doors, demanding a mandatory meeting. I wasn't particularly in the mood for sitting around campfires and singing kumbaya with the very same people who might have tried to kill me in the coming days, and Mr. Fletcher had a most unfortunate nose and very long, untamed hair, but curiosity got the best of me. Most of us, actually.

All of them, sitting around, and I wondered if any of them realized we were all behind enemy lines now. I wondered if any of them realized this was not a game people could win, and making light of it with games where everyone had chances to succeed if they played their cards right was a bit immature, a bit naive. Surely they did.

Still, it was an opportunity to learn more about them, so I followed suit behind a girl who had volunteered with her brother.

"I can play, too."