Post by Ruined, Form Of: Lorenzo on Mar 23, 2017 10:41:50 GMT -5
DORY THE CORAL MOOSE
"Let's kill these things."
Was the newcomer referring to her beautiful aquarium? Dory snorted, sending a gust of wind skyward. The tadpoles flickering around her forehead panicked. They dove for cover wherever they could find it, burrowing into anemones, darting behind her antles. One or two even swam up her nose.
She tried to hold it in. She really did. But the sneeze would not be thwarted. Dory sucked in a massive breath, and then headbutted the nearest newcomer as she expelled the little fishies from her nostrils.
Jezebel felt, more than heard, the sneeze. A wet spray, complete with a few flopping guppies, coated her sunny exterior. She flicked a tentacle at her partner in warning - no funny business. Of course, it was a little funny, watching the newcomer trying to hit her with a bat. What a ridiculous weapon. Maybe if she coiled her tentacles just so around the bat, she could show the newcomer the power of a sting.
Post by Ruined, Form Of: Lorenzo on Mar 22, 2017 12:48:36 GMT -5
DORY THE CORAL MOOSE
Anchored beneath the waves of blinding white, Dory the Coral Moose bided her time. She knew the newcomers by the way they tromped over the plains, trying to walk when they ought to swim. She'd made the same mistake as a calf, stumbling and teetering until she'd found a place to anchor. Now, her life wasn't about adventuring; it was about nurturing. The grand halo of her coral antlers fostered hundreds of small fish, flitting about. The tiniest, no older than the newcomers, darted around her head nervously. "I will keep you safe," she whispered to them, her voice a melody on the wind.
To prove it, when a newcomer strayed too close, she tilted her antlers to him.
[Dory attacks Anarchy; antlers (knife)]
[Shallow Cut on Right Forearm -- 3.5 damage]
JEZEBEL THE SUNBURST JELLY
Unlike her partner, who was too obsessed with mothering her thousand adopted offspring to be any good, Jezebel guarded the paper plains with zeal. She made her rounds every day, circling first the edge, and then tightening each loop until she came back to the place Dory had made her home. She could see the logic in pairing them; Dory would never move and Jezebel would never stop moving. Still, it chaffed. When she was angry enough, she began to vibrate, the separated sacs within her moving dangerously close together.
She was merely waiting for someone to give her an excuse.
Post by Ruined, Form Of: Lorenzo on Mar 21, 2017 13:48:03 GMT -5
The president of Panem stood on the magnificent stage in the City Circle, addressing his people as he had done numerous times before. Another of his prized Hunger Games had come to a close. As usual, they had been an enormous success; enough blood, death, and tragedy to satisfy the viewers, and also to subdue the thoughts of rebellion that the high government official knew were brewing in the minds of some of Panem's citizens.
When the map designers had presented the quaint countryside arena, he’d decided to keep things familiar. Only one of the three Gamemakers had never been at the helm before. He’d put his faith in Reine, Herodotus and King – an easy thing to do after the wild success of the Seventy-Third. He had been sipping brandy, grinning at the television as the final four faced off. That’s when the Games unraveled. The seasoned Gamemakers let both Asha Lumiere and Pillar Fray slip through their fingers, dooming them to a lower district victor.
The President adjusted his lapel, flashing the white rose pin. Todd was more than strange and unqualified (how had he snatched the victory from fan favorite Hyacinth Mortuus?); he was dangerous. He bowed for crosses, not roses. It was a problem. Snow had written off Ten years ago, but with Eleven finally starting to quiet, perhaps it was time to show a renewed interest.
He knew that Ansgar was waiting just below him right now, ready for the platforms to lift him up and out into the light for the first time since he'd left the arena five days ago. The usual upholstered throne was placed in the center of the stage, ready for the victor while he watched a recap of what had been his hell for the past two and a half weeks, including the preparations. It was always torture for the tribute, but the president enjoyed it very much. He wouldn't deny the sadistic delight that he took in watching each victor witness their own atrocities from afar, powerless to change the course of Games, even if they wanted to. Many of them, it seemed, wanted to indeed.
President Snow quieted the crowd and prepared to speak. "Ladies and gentlemen, I'm pleased to welcome you to the victor presentation ceremony of the Seventy Fourth Hunger Games!" As usual, there was the deafening roar of approval that followed. "Tonight we will show a recap video of this year's Games, so be sure to stay tuned!" Like they have a choice, the president thought. The recap video was required viewing for all of Panem.
Snow went on to announce the prep team, stylist, escort, and mentor of the victor; all were received with tremendous applause. But then, the moment they were all waiting for... Snow plastered a smile across his face before speaking once more. "And now, may I present the victor of the 74th Hunger Games... Ansgar Todd!"
OOC- RPing is permitted in this thread by Capitol characters and past victors. This is the place to have your Capitol character react to viewing the recap video, if you planned on doing that. All characters from other districts can create their own threads in the districts, if they wish. Also, apologies for the delay in getting this up!
Post by Ruined, Form Of: Lorenzo on Mar 7, 2017 13:49:43 GMT -5
Ever since Elidor had taken her to the window, she’d had steady contractions. At first they were a quarter hour apart. So, she didn’t tell anyone. She just settled back into her hospital bed and flipped through the same tired magazine, featuring none other than her husband on the cover. At some point, late that same evening, she had one of her cousins drag the phone, coiled wire and all, into the room so she could called Harbinger. He didn’t answer but still, somehow, she felt closer to him.
For awhile, she slept. At midnight, the contractions began to hit every ten minutes, and then every eight, and by two o’clock in the morning they were coming fast and furious, barely enough time between for her to catch her breath. The Peacekeeper doctor was summoned and Navya hoped fervently, between pants, that he would be too deeply asleep to bother.
No such luck. He arrived in the room looked fresh and determined. He shooed everyone out but his staff and only one of Navya’s cousins, who he made wash up methodically and don scrubs. By the time they all turned to her, they looked like blue clad aliens.
Which was the last really clear thought she had before the pain permeated everything. Not just her nether regions, not just her mind. Pain pierced the entire world.
“It’s not time yet, Mrs. Rhodes. Breathe. That’s a girl.”
Later, her cousin would tell her that she didn’t scream at the doctor; she roared.
Short pants. One long exhale. “The pain – please –”
“Almost there. Just another – okay, you can push now.”
It was the only thing she’d ever wanted to do in her whole life.
The first baby punched through her, landing in the arms of the doctor, who quickly turned him over to Navya’s cousin. “First twin is out. A healthy male. Try to take deep breaths while you can.”
“I want to see him. I need to see him.”
“I’m sorry, Mrs. Rhodes, but given all the work we’ve yet to do –”
She felt tears on her cheeks but she wasn’t crying. She was fuming. When the doctor turned to wash up for the next baby, Navya’s cousin wove through the nursing staff and just for a second, tipped the baby’s face towards Navya. The rush she felt brought her back from the brink of total exhaustion and pain. Her son. Their son. He squalled and a nurse snatched him to run more tests.
The next contraction pummeled Navya. And again. And again. She forgot to breathe. She forgot everything.
“Boy Twin B is out!” Someone said, under water and far away. Her ears had gotten huge, her mouth had gone dry. She closed her eyes.
Someone slapped her across the cheek. Hard.
She lifted her IV wound arm to the burning flesh. Her cousin looked absolutely horrified. “Stay with us, Mrs. Rhodes. We’re almost there. Now, breathe, please.”
Navya hissed out the next breath, but this time she was ready. When the contraction rolled over her, she pressed down into it. The bottom half of her body was ragged and ravaged. It no longer felt like a part of her, which strangely made it easier. A few minutes of pushing and pressing, and –
“Baby Girl Rhodes is safely out. Let’s get some measurements on her and oxygen for the mother.”
Navya sank into the bed, barely aware of the oxygen mask, of the stinging needle pulling her back together. Her cousin whispered something, something like, “she’s so small, Navya” but she was gone. She was floating and then flying all the way to the Capitol. She was there, in Harbinger’s apartment, whole and safe in his arms.
While the doctors and nurses cleaned the babies, Navya slept.
Post by Ruined, Form Of: Lorenzo on Mar 6, 2017 12:02:54 GMT -5
Welcome to the site, Tigress! Really love your alias ^^ I'm Kay, one of the admins around here. If you have a chance, sign up for our Slack channel (guide in the sidebar to the left). That's where we do most of our chatting and plotting. Glad you decided to join!
Post by Ruined, Form Of: Lorenzo on Mar 5, 2017 17:53:10 GMT -5
Cigna clucked the moment their head connected with Raven's colorful armor. Oh my, oh my, oh my. They were quite content to stay there; the crown which had inspired their species name even seemed a little stuck. Cigna couldn't blame it. But the tribute had no intention of staying still. Just as Cigna dislodged their beak from Raven's sternum, she sliced open their forehead and little drop of blood fell into their eyes.
Blinking those big, blank bird eyes, Cigna snapped their beak at her.
[Cigna the Crowned Cassoture attacks Raven Barker; beak (knife)]
Post by Ruined, Form Of: Lorenzo on Mar 3, 2017 23:44:18 GMT -5
They'd snatched a thumb! And it tasted better than expected. Maybe the tribute was a little bit trash. Cigna munched happily on their prize, content with suckling the flesh and grinding down the bone. But the tribute wasn't happy. Cigna couldn't exactly blame her for that, but she was so very hungry and there hadn't been anything to eat since she'd been unceremoniously dumped in the arena and well maybe just one more bite -
The tribute clawed her wing, opening up a river of colorful blood.
Cigna screeched. They flapped and danced, trying to reach the wound. But their long elegant neck wasn't made for bending backwards and she couldn't get get there. "But my feathers!" They screamed and lunged.
[Cigna the Crowned Cassoture attacks Raven Barker; beak (knife)]
Post by Ruined, Form Of: Lorenzo on Mar 3, 2017 15:54:14 GMT -5
When we settle down for the night, it's just the strange little girl and the stranger boy and me. It feels like a lifetime since we left the Capitol. We divide our items and work easily together, which surprises me. That is, until the anthem plays. We all watch, silently, and then we aren't as close, somehow. They've lost two people they care about in this arena. So, I give them some space.
I dream of Paige and Lily. They press crayons to every inch of my skin, covering me in a rainbow. In the morning, I wake up clutching the few crayons I have left. I kiss them for good luck and then scramble after Wylla and Lucas.
I knew this would happen, after watching Paige's and Lily's games. If you got close to other tributes, you ended up fighting more often. The spear is heavier than I would have guessed and all I really want to do is reach out, hold their hand, and tell them all it will be okay.
Then Riven smears my pretty armor. I sigh. "I guess this is what we all trained for, right?"
[ made by the all fabu rave ]
[Eva Hope attacks Leticia Wheeler with Middle Red Spear]
Post by Ruined, Form Of: Lorenzo on Mar 3, 2017 13:11:53 GMT -5
Cigna flitted through the reflective water, stretching wings and tail and crown. Today, today, they thought with their tiny bird brain. Today, by which they meant: today is the day I finally get to munch on some trash.
Is there anything better than trash? Cigna did not know such a thing, if it existed. It was true, they'd tired of the lifeless piles of plastic and baubles in the Capitol. Now, they hungered for something a bit more alive. Not too squirmy, just the right of amount of spirit. They'd followed their herd into the arena, amid squawks of soon, soon.
The moment the tributes stepped onto the Salt Falts, soon became today.
Cigna burst through the reflection, paddling lazily. The tribute before them bleated piteously but otherwise seemed in fine health. "Can you rot a little more?" Cigna honked. The tribute seemed to like that because she came closer. Her shiny metal swung wide of Cigna and they chortled, honks sticking in their throat. The second time, though, she found their wing.
"Dinner's on!" Cigna called.
[Cigna the Crowned Cassoture attacks Raven Barker; beak (knife)]
Post by Ruined, Form Of: Lorenzo on Feb 27, 2017 14:38:10 GMT -5
♕ m a c e ♕
❝ one more word, and you won't survive ❞
Mace had watched the Bloodbath with a plate of fried chicken on his lap and not a thought in his head. Over the course of the last few weeks, he'd done the math. All the usual expectations went right out to pasture; they would lose more than twice as many children as they normally did, and for what? Did doubling the deaths somehow double the glory for the Capitol? He ate and he fumed.
His fingers are greasy, his soul is stained, when Eden Turner falls.
He shadows Kieran, numb at first, but by the time he shuts the roof door, his vision is blurry. He hasn't cried in a very long time. He might not be good at it, any more.
"This is what it feels like to truly lose."
Mace approaches slowly, wiping his hands on his sweater and then clearing his eyes. Later. There will be time for himself, for Saffron, for his children, for Lethe later. All they have is time.
"I don't know what to do, Dad."
A few years ago, Mace would have grunted something encouraging, something patently untrue, just to get his son through the grief. It'll be okay or she'll be missed or do you want some ice cream? But his son isn't a child any more; it could have so easily been Mace and Eden on the rooftop, talking about Kieran.
The grease slicks on his cheeks make it too easy for the tears to fall as he grabs Kieran's shoulder and hauls him for a hug. Mace damn near crushes his son. "I don't either," he admits, man to man. But it's too much of a nail in the heart for him to leave it well enough alone. "I'm sorry, son. Maybe - maybe there's somethin' we can do for Lethe."
Post by Ruined, Form Of: Lorenzo on Feb 27, 2017 14:20:11 GMT -5
Her body has become so distorted, so grotesque, that she doesn't even recognize herself. And it isn't like she's looking into a mirror every morning; she hasn't seen a mirror for over a month. No, she just has to look down the swollen length of her hospital gown to know that this bloated body is not her own. Her cousins try to comfort her, to remind her it's the hormones and the sleep deprivation. Soon, this ordeal will be over and she'll be herself again. But it's not soon enough.
The only thing the Peacekeeper attache doctor and her cousins can agree on is that she needs to sleep, to conserve her strength. It's damn near impossible between beeping machines and frrequent check ups and the Braxton Hicks contractions. But for the first time in many days, her body calms, and she rests.
"Please don't take my sunshine away."
She comes around slowly, groggily. She couldn't have slept more than a few hours, but it felt like years. She blinks, shifts her legs and winces. The bed sores won't heal. It's the pain of the sticky open wounds that jolts her back to consciousness, and she realizes it's not Harbinger or her family singing to Vera; it's Elidor Rhodes. No one else is in the room, for once.
"Elidor," she says with a sigh, and it sounds like a prayer. "Vera, dear, can you give me a moment with your uncle? Get one of your books for mommy." Navya carefully manuevers herself into a sitting position. Her stomach is so distended, so heavy that her spine has been compromised. "Elidor, can you help me up? I haven't stood up in a week and I just - I need to see the sunlight. Please." She reaches out a hand, an IV taped to her skinny wrist.